n to a fault; nor is a Genius wanting, but it's so
unnatural, that an ingenious Person may find much more pleasure in reading
a worse Poet. Besides, his Stanza's often cramp the Sence, and injure many
a noble Thought and Passion. But Mr. Cowley's Davideis is the Medium
between both; it has Gondibert's Majesty without his stiffness, and
something of Spencer's Sweetness and Variety, without his Irregularity:
Indeed all his Works are so admirable, that another Cowley might well be
employ'd in giving them their just Elogy. His Hero is according to the
ancient Model, truly Poetical, a mixture of some Faults and greater
Virtues. He had the advantage of both Love and Honour for his Episodes,
nay, and Friendship too, and that the noblest in History. He had all the
sacred History before him, and liberty to chuse where he pleased, either
by Narration or Prophecy; nor has he, as far as he has gone, neglected any
advantage the Subject gave him. Its a great Loss to the World that he left
the Work unfinish'd, since now he's dead, its always like to continue so.
As for Milton's Paradise Lost its an Original, and indeed he seems rather
above the common Rules of Epic than ignorant of them. Its I'm sure a very
lovely Poem, by what ever Name it's call'd, and in it he has many Thoughts
and Images, greater than perhaps any either in Virgil or Homer. The
Foundation is true History, but the turn is Fable: The Action is very
Important, but not uniform; for one can't tell which is the Principal in
the Poem, the Wars of the Angels or the Fall of Man, nor which is the
Chief Person Michael or Adam. Its true, the former comes in as an Episode
to the latter, but it takes up too great a part thereof, because its
link'd to it. His Discourse of Light is incomparable; and I think 'twas
worth the while to be blind to be its Author. His Description of Adam and
Eve, their Persons and Love, is almost too lively to bear reading: Not but
that he has his inequalities and repetitions, the latter pretty often, as
have, more or less, all other Poets but Virgil. For his antique Words I'm
not like to blame him whoever does: And for his blank Verse, I'm of a
different mind from most others, and think they rather excuse his
uncorrectness than the contraries; for I find its easier to run into it,
in that sort of Verse, than in Rhyming Works where the Thought is oftner
turned; whereas here the Fancy flows on, without check or controul. As for
his Paradise Regain'd, I noth