In this way it happened that Daniel, whom at the outset his
contemporaries had praised with wide consent, and who never wrote a
loose or unscholarly line, came to pen, in the dedicatory epistle
prefixed to his tragedy of "Philotas," these words--perhaps the most
pathetic ever uttered by an artist upon his work:

"And therefore since I have outlived the date
Of former grace, acceptance and delight.
I would my lines, late born beyond the fate
Of her[A] spent line, had never come to light;
So had I not been tax'd for wishing well,
Nor now mistaken by the censuring Stage,
Nor in my fame and reputation fell,
Which I esteem more than what all the age
Or the earth can give. _But years hath done this wrong,
To make me write too much, and live too long_."


Ease of his verse.

I said just now that Daniel had done much, though quietly, to train
the growth of English verse. He not only stood up successfully for
its natural development at a time when the clever but less largely
informed Campion and others threatened it with fantastic changes. He
probably did as much as Waller to introduce polish of line into our
poetry. Turn to the famous "Ulysses and the Siren," and read. Can
anyone tell me of English verses that run more smoothly off the
tongue, or with a more temperate grace?

"Well, well, Ulysses, then I see