Those are the laboured births of slavish brains,
Not the effects of poetry, but pains.
A new and nobler way thou dost pursue,
To make translations, and translators too.
They but preserve the ashes, thou the flame:
True to his sense, but truer to his fame.
His poetical talents, however, are not held in such high estimation, at the present day, as they were by bis contemporaries. His principal performance, the translation of the Lusiad of Camoens, has been entirely superseded by that of Mickle; though he must be allowed the merit, of having been the first, who introduced the Portuguese poet to the English reader.
The occasion of his composing the two little poems, in this Collection, is related in the letter subjoined to them; which was written on the same sheet as the poems. The writer of the letter, was the Honourable Constantia Aston, youngest daughter of the first Lord Aston, and wife of Walter Fowler, Esq. of St Thomas Priory, near Tixall. It was addressed to Herbert Aston, her second brother, who was then at Madrid, with his father, Lord Aston, ambassador to the court of Spain, from King Charles I. The letter, and poems, were probably sent in a parcel, with others, and conveyed to Madrid, by Sir Richard Fan-shaw, who appears to have been very intimate with the Aston family. Among the letters, which I found at Tixall, there are eight very curious and interesting ones, from the same Constantia Fowler, to her brother Herbert Aston. The first is dated, "Colton, the 11th of August, 1636." I shall now give some extracts from it, and from some of the others:—"Wee here Mr Fan-shew is in London, and porpeses to com downe, which I rejoyce at mightyly." Mr Fanshew has made us beleeve a great while he would come downe, but it seemes his bisnes is such it will not permit him, for he has just this day sent us letters of yours from him, which he has kept all this time, thinking to bring them himselfe. I will send your letter safe to Mrs Thimelby."—"You writt me word in your letter by Mr Fanshaw, that heretofore you sent me verses which began (Whilest here Eclipesed) this letter I did never receave, nor verses which I am most truly afflicted att, and if you doe truely love me doe not denye me, but send them me againe; for you knowe not how much I suffer that they
