Thomas
died soon after the Restoration; Henry outlived the Revolution.
Henry Vaughan was then nearly thirty years younger than George Herbert,
whom he consciously and intentionally imitates. His art is not comparable
to that of Herbert: hence Herbert remains the master; for it is not the
thought that makes the poet; it is the utterance of that thought in
worthy presence of speech. He is careless and somewhat rugged. If he can
get his thought dressed, and thus made visible, he does not mind the
dress fitting awkwardly, or even being a little out at elbows. And yet he
has grander lines and phrases than any in Herbert. He has occasionally a
daring success that strikes one with astonishment. In a word, he says
more splendid things than Herbert, though he writes inferior poems. His
thought is profound and just; the harmonies in his soul are true; its
artistic and musical ear is defective. His movements are sometimes grand,
sometimes awkward. Herbert is always gracious--I use the word as meaning
much more than _graceful_.
The following poem will instance Vaughan's fine mysticism and odd
embodiment:
COCK-CROWING.
Father of lights! what sunny seed,
What glance of day hast thou confined
Into this bird? To all the breed
This busy ray thou hast assigned;
Their magnetism works all night,
And dreams of Paradise and light.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263