Mary Masters

Mary Masters (1694?—1759?) is a working class poet born in Otley, which is now part of the city of Leeds. She is referred to in Boswell’s Life of Samuel Johnson, where it’s said she occasionally visited Dr. Johnson, who revised her writings and "illuminated them here and there with a ray of his own genius." It is also known that she sometimes stayed at the home of Edward Cave, the editor of the Gentleman’s Magazine, when visiting London.

Her Poems on Several Occasions was published in London in 1733. Her second book Familiar Letters and Poems on Several Occasions appeared in 1755. One brief poem from that book, which has been expanded into a hymn, is as follows:
------'Tis religion that can give
------Sweetest pleasures while we live.
------'Tis religion must supply
------Solid comfort when we die.

Masters included expanded versifications of Psalm 29, Psalm 37, Psalm 90, and Psalm 137 in her first collection. More faithful psalm versifications had already become a popular form of Christian poetry years earlier, including those from Sir Philip Sidney, and continued by his sister Mary Sidney Herbert. The following poem is Masters’ versification and expansion on Psalm 90, which according to tradition was written by Moses.

Psalm 90

------Verse I
Monarch of Heav’n, and Earth, and Sea,
Patron of Israel’s Progeny;
In every Clime from Age to Age
Our Line survives all hostile Rage,
With thy Divinity immur’d
As in a Dome of Rock secur’d.
------Verse II
Ancient of Days! Ere this wide Earth
With all her Hills disclos’d, to birth
Arose; ere you bright Lamps on high
Were kindled thro’ the boundless Sky;
Thou hadst a Life Eternal pass’d
That with Eternity shall last
------Verse III
But what is Man? thy sov’reign Doom
Soon hurls the Mortal to a Tomb:
“Return to dust,” thy voice commands,
Death hears, and sweeps off half the Lands.
------Verse IV
While so immense, thy Life appears,
That, ev’n a thousand rolling Years,
Diminish, in thy vast Survey,
To an elaps’d, forgotten Day:
Whole Ages vanish in thy fight
Like the short Portion of a Night.
------Verse V
How oft (amazing to behold!)
Destruction has her Torrents roll’d!
Born headlong down the violent Stream,
The Mighty perish, like a Dream!
Sad Devastation! Swift and wide!
Thus blooms at Morn, the Meadows Pride,
------Verse VI
At Morn, in lusty Verdure gay,
At Eve, the Sickle’s hapless Prey
A wide-extended Ruin lies
On the bare Waste, and with’ring dies.
------Verse VII
O’er-whelm’d with Terror and Amaze,
We fee thy Wrath, around us, blaze.
Consum’d by thine avenging Ire
With copious Death our Hosts expire.
------Verse VIII
Thy Face, by its own Beams, descries
All our conceal’d Iniquities
Stern Justice every Crime arraigns;
And lays of each its Load of Pains.
------Verse IX
All our sad Days, thy Frowns we mourn;
Sickly, and weak, with Sorrow worn;
And mounting to our Noon a-pace,
And quickly finishing the Race,
The Measure of our Years is run,
Spent like a Tale.
------Verse X
------------------------The deathless Sun
Scarce seventy Springs renews his round,
Ere w lie mould’ring in the Ground:
Or should the vig’rous and the strong
Ten winters more drag Life along,
‘Tis a Reprieve, devoid of Rest,
Harrass’d with Toils, with Fears opprest,
And in our Strength cut off at last,
We vanish: thus a sudden Blast,
When fatal Shears the Fleece divide,
Whirls out of fight the falling Pride.
------Verse XI
Dread Sov’reign when thy Vengeance glows,
Who its full Force and Fury knows?
Great as our Fears, and unconfin’d
As thy own vast Almighty Mind.
------Verse XII
Make us, O make us, Father wise
To mark the Moment, as it flies,
Keep the small Sum of Life in view
And, whither Wisdom leads, pursue.
------Verse XIII
Return, offended Pow’r, we pray,
How long ———? O torturing Delay!
Pity the Pains thy Servants feel,
At length the stern Decree repeal.
Bid the auspicious Morning smile,
That finishes our Years of Toil.
------Verse XIV
Let Mercy then prepare a Feast,
And let our Nation be the Guest:
Till in full Tides our Joys arise,
Our Acclamations rend the Skies;
------Verse XV
Till in full Tides our Joy o’erflows,
Lasting and great, as now , our Woes.
------Verse XVI
Before our steps, thy Pow’r display,
With Wonders mark the shining Way:
O let thy Patronage Divine
Diffuse a Glory round our Line,
------Verse XVII
Thy Patronage Divine proclaim,
Thro’ ev’ry Land our honour’d Name.
Secure of thy Almighty Aid,
On that Eternal Basis laid,
May all our Plans of Conquest stand,
And all the Labours of our Hand.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the author of five poetry collections including Angelicus (2021, Poiema/Cascade), and three anthologies — available through Wipf & Stock. His new book The Role of the Moon, inspired by the Metaphysical Poets, is forthcoming from Paraclete Press.

Guillaume de Salluste du Bartas

Guillaume de Salluste du Bartas (1544—1590) is a French Huguenot, who served in the court of Henri IV, from well before he came to the French throne.

Du Bartas’ divine poetry was appreciated across Europe during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. At the turn of that century he was still the most esteemed poet in France, although literary fashions changed later in the 1600s. Because of his Protestant views, his influence was felt much longer in England — where he had made a significant impression on Philip Sydney, Edmund Spenser, and John Milton. James VI of Scotland’s enthusiasm for du Bartas’ verse also spread the poet’s fame.

He also made an impact on the Metaphysical poets. C.S. Lewis wrote in English Literature in the 16th Century, “…no one can point to a moment at which poetry began to be Metaphysical nor to a poet who made it so; but of all poets perhaps Guillaume de Salluste du Bartas… comes nearest to that position.”

The following is from Joshua Sylvester's translation, which appeared in editions from 1608 to 1641, and is part of the first poem from The Divine Weeks (Part 1—Building The World)

from The First Day

No sooner said He, “Be there light,” but lo!
The formless lump to perfect form ‘gan grow,
And all illustred with light’s radiant shine,
Doffed mourning weeds and decked it passing fine.
All hail, pure lamp, bright, sacred and excelling;
Sorrow and care, darkness and dread repelling;
The world’s great taper, wicked men’s just terror,
Mother of truth, true beauty’s only mirror—
God’s eldest daughter! O, how thou art full
Of grace and goodness! O, how beautiful!
Since thy great Parent’s all-discerning eye
Doth judge thee so, and since His Majesty—
Thy glorious Maker—in His sacred lays
Can do no less than sing thy modest praise.

This post was suggested by my friend Burl Horniachek.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. His latest poetry collection is Ampersand (2018, Cascade). His books are available through Amazon, and Wipf & Stock, including the anthologies The Turning Aside, and Adam, Eve, & the Riders of the Apocalypse.

Philip Sidney

Sir Philip Sidney (1554—1586) may be considered the father of English literary criticism. In his "The Defence of Poesy", Sidney argued that poetry, by which he meant literature, was able to rouse its readers to virtue. Although this is not the intent of many writers today, this was Sidney's focus and purpose. In 1583 he began his project of versifying the Psalms, which was interrupted by his death. His sister, Mary Sidney Herbert, completed the project in 1599.

He was involved politically in the cause of uniting Protestant Europe against the Roman Catholics of Spain. In 1581 he became a member of parliament, and in 1584 Queen Elizabeth I appointed him governor of Flushing (in the Netherlands). In fighting against the Spanish at the Battle of Zutphen, a musket-shot broke his thighbone; twenty three days later he died.

Psalm 93

Clothed with state, and girt with might,
Monarch-like Jehovah reigns,
He who earth's foundation pight—
Pight at first, and yet sustains;
He whose stable throne disdains
Motions shock and age's flight;
He who endless one remains
One, the same, in changeless plight.

Rivers,—yea though the rivers roar,
Roaring though sea-billows rise,
Vex the deep, and break the shore,—
Stronger art thou, Lord of skies!
Firm and true thy promise lies
Now and still as heretofore:
Holy worship never dies
In thy house where we adore.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. His new poetry collection, Conspiracy of Light: Poems Inspired by the Legacy of C.S. Lewis, is available from Wipf & Stock as is his earlier award-winning collection, Poiema.

Mary Sidney Herbert

Mary Sidney Herbert (1561—1621) the Countess of Pembroke, is one of the first English women to be acknowledged as a significant writer. She was influential in many aspects of the society of her day. She established “The Wilton Circle” — a literary group which included Edmund Spenser and her brother, Sir Philip Sidney. She was also accomplished as a poet and theologian.

Her brother had been working on a verse translation of the Psalms at the time of his death (1586) — having completed the first 43 Psalms. Mary continued the project, translating Psalms 44 to 150. Her Psalm translations became very influential on the subsequent generation of British poets — particularly on John Donne and George Herbert.

In 1601, King James I visited her at Wilton, where he was entertained by Shakespeare’s company The King’s Men. Shakespeare’s first folio (1623) was dedicated to two of her sons.

Psalm 52

Tyrant, why swell'st thou thus,
------Of mischief vaunting?
Since help from God to us
------Is never wanting.

Lewd lies thy tongue contrives,
------Loud lies it soundeth;
Sharper than sharpest knives
------With lies it woundeth.

Falsehood thy wit approves,
------All truth rejected:
Thy will all vices loves,
------Virtue neglected.

Not words from cursed thee,
------But gulfs are poured;
Gulfs wherein daily be
------Good men devoured.

Think'st thou to bear it so?
------God shall displace thee;
God shall thee overthrow,
------Crush thee, deface thee.

The just shall fearing see
------These fearful chances,
And laughing shoot at thee
------With scornful glances.

Lo, lo, the wretched wight,
------Who God disdaining,
His mischief made his might,
------His guard his gaining.

I as an olive tree
------Still green shall flourish:
God's house the soil shall be
------My roots to nourish.

My trust in his true love
------Truly attending,
Shall never thence remove,
------Never see ending.

Thee will I honour still,
------Lord, for this justice;
There fix my hopes I will
------Where thy saints' trust is.

Thy saints trust in thy name,
------Therein they joy them:
Protected by the same,
------Naught can annoy them.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the award-winning author of the poetry collections Poiema (Wipf & Stock) and So The Moon Would Not Be Swallowed (Rubicon Press). They are both available at: www.dsmartin.ca

Edmund Spenser

Edmund Spenser (1552–1599) is best known for his epic poem The Faerie Queene. Spenser himself described it as an allegory, with the knights which appear in the various books symbolizing various Christian virtues. The Redcrosse Knight in Book 1, for example, represents holiness, and also suggests the patron saint of England — St. George. It was the C.S. Lewis book The Allegory of Love (1936) which helped to re-establish the importance of The Faerie Queene.

Spenser was not born to an influential family, but gained attention with the assistance of such contemporaries as Sir Philip Sidney and Sir Walter Raleigh.

The spelling in his poetry traditionally is not standardized since he often deliberately wrote in an archaic style, partly in tribute to Chaucer. He was an influential innovator in poetic forms, including what is called the Spenserian sonnet (with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-b-c-b-c-c-d-c-d-e-e) as exemplified in the following poem.

Sonnet #68

Most glorious Lord of lyfe, that on this day,
---Didst make thy triumph over death and sin:
---And having harrowd hell, didst bring away
---Captivity thence captive us to win:
This joyous day, deare Lord, with joy begin,
---And grant that we for whom thou diddest dye
---Being with thy deare blood clene washt from sin,
---May live for ever in felicity.
And that thy love we weighing worthily,
---May likewise love thee for the same againe:
---And for thy sake that all lyke deare didst buy,
---With love may one another entertayne.
So let us love, deare love, lyke as we ought,
---Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.

This is the first Kingdom Poets post about Edmund Spenser: second post.

Entry written by D.S. Martin. He is the award-winning author of the poetry collections Poiema (Wipf & Stock) and So The Moon Would Not Be Swallowed (Rubicon Press). They are both available at: www.dsmartin.ca