His chief poem is called _St. Peter's Complaint_. It is of considerable
length--a hundred and thirty-two stanzas. It reminds us of the Countess
of Pembroke's poem, but is far more articulate and far superior in
versification. Perhaps its chief fault is that the pauses are so measured
with the lines as to make every line almost a sentence, the effect of
which is a considerable degree of monotony. Like all writers of the time,
he is, of course, fond of antithesis, and abounds in conceits and
fancies; whence he attributes a multitude of expressions to St. Peter of
which never possibly could the substantial ideas have entered the
Apostle's mind, or probably any other than Southwell's own. There is also
a good deal of sentimentalism in the poem, a fault from which I fear
modern Catholic verse is rarely free. Probably the Italian poetry with
which he must have been familiar in his youth, during his residence in
Rome, accustomed him to such irreverences of expression as this
sentimentalism gives occasion to, and which are very far from indicating
a correspondent state of feeling. Sentiment is a poor ape of love; but
the love is true notwithstanding. Here are a few stanzas from _St.
Peter's Complaint_:

Titles I make untruths: am I a rock,
That with so soft a gale was overthrown?
Am I fit pastor for the faithful flock
To guide their souls that murdered thus mine own?
A rock of ruin, not a rest to stay;
A pastor,--not to feed, but to betray.

Parting from Christ my fainting force declined;
With lingering foot I followed him aloof;
Base fear out of my heart his love unshrined,
Huge in high words, but impotent in proof.