From her fayre head her fillet she undight,
And layd her stole aside: her angels face,
As the great eye of Heaven, shyned bright,
And made a sunshine in the shady place;
Did never mortal eye behold such heavenly grace.

B. I. c. 3. st. 4.


6. In Spenser we see the brightest and purest form of that nationality
which was so common a characteristic of our elder poets. There is
nothing unamiable, nothing contemptuous of others, in it. To glorify
their country--to elevate England into a queen, an empress of the
heart--this was their passion and object; and how dear and important an
object it was or may be, let Spain, in the recollection of her Cid,
declare! There is a great magic in national names. What a damper to all
interest is a list of native East Indian merchants! Unknown names are
non-conductors; they stop all sympathy. No one of our poets has touched
this string more exquisitely than Spenser; especially in his chronicle
of the British Kings (B. II. c. 10.), and the marriage of the Thames
with the Medway (B. IV. c. 11.), in both which passages the mere names
constitute half the pleasure we receive. To the same feeling we must in
particular attribute Spenser's sweet reference to Ireland:--


Ne thence the Irishe rivers absent were;
Sith no lesse famous than the rest they be, &c.

Ib.