Richard Lovelace (1618-58), author of the best known Cavalier lyric, 'Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,) and of the only less perfect 'To Althea, From Prison,' illustrates in his life, as does Montrose, the tragedy that often underlay this graceful verse, but the tragedy is here one of sentiment. He impoverished him self to give his fortune to the King. On return ing from the wars abroad, he was imprisoned, and his 'Lucasta,> Lucy abroad, •believing him dead, married some one else. Lovelace died, worn out by suffering and poverty.
A similarly typical fate was that of Sir John Suckling (1609?-42), who spent his fortune for the King, became an exile and died abroad. He wrote several plays, and the clever 'Session of the Poets,' the model of much later criticism in light verse; his fame, however, is founded on his Cavalier poems. In his life and in his writing he is neither so noble nor so pathetic as Montrose and Lovelace; he is a roisterer at heart, as can clearly be seen even in the ex quisite 'Ballad upon a Wedding.) But he is master of the reckless tone that finally charac terized the school, the tone that had been caught so finely by George Wither (1588-1667)-- who strangely enough lived to be a Roundhead — in his 'Shall I, wasting in despair?) In such lines as 'Out upon it, I have loved three whole days together,) Suckling turns the bravado note into a pretty compliment ; in his best lyric, the song from so pale and wan, fond lover?'" he carries it to its logical conclusion of recklessness.
Among the numerous poets who wrote in the Cavalier manner, though not under strict Cav alier conditions, besides Herrick and Donne, already noticed, should be mentioned Edmund Waller, for his two perfect lyrics of compliment, 'On a Girdle,) and 'Go, lovely rose.) But far more important is Thomas Carew (I598? 1639?), probably the most gifted minor poet of the time, with the exception of Herrick. He came of good family, enjoyed an excellent edu cation and, it seems, led a reckless life. In his verse the Cavalier compliment is most elab orate and most noble, as in the incomparable 'Ask me no more,) and in the epitaphs on Lady Mary Villers, where he is indeed more the scholar than the Cavalier. 'Give me more love or more disdain,) and 'He that loves a rosy cheek,) are other familiar examples of his felicity. He had in full measure the rhetorical grace of the true Cavalier, the secret of splen did openings and cadences — an unacademic art that began not in literary imitation but in courtly conversation, in the fine compliment paid to beauty that need not be abashed by praise.