Our poet was born at Hindlip, Worcestershire, on the very day of the discovery of the plot, 5th November 1605. The family were Papists, and William was sent to St Omers to be educated. He was pressed to become a Jesuit, but declined. On his return to England, his father became preceptor to the poet. As he grew up, instead of displaying any taste for 'treasons, stratagems, and spoils,' he chose the better part, and lived a private and happy life. He fell in love with Lucia, daughter of William Herbert, the first Lord Powis, and celebrated her in his long and curious poem entitled 'Castara.' This lady he afterwards married, and from her society appears to have derived much happiness. In 1634, he published 'Castara.' He also, at different times, produced 'The Queen of Arragon,' a tragedy; a History of Edward IV.; and 'Observations upon History.' He died in 1654, (not as Southey, by a strange oversight, says, 'when he had just completed his fortieth year,') forty-nine years of age, and was buried in the family vault at Hindlip. 'Castara' is not a consecutive poem, but consists of a great variety of small pieces, in all sorts of style and rhythm, and of all varieties of merit; many of them addressed to his mistress under the name of Castara, and many to his friends; with reflective poems, elegies, and panegyrics, intermingled with verses sacred to love. Habington is distinguished by purity of tone if not of taste. He has many conceits, but no obscenities. His love is as holy as it is ardent. He has, besides, a vein of sentiment which sometimes approaches the moral sublime. To prove this, in addition to the 'Selections' below, we copy some verses entitled-- 'NOX NOCTI INDICAT SCIENTIAM.'--_David_. When I survey the bright Celestial sphere, So rich with jewels hung, that Night Doth like an Ethiop bride appear, My soul her wings doth spread, And heavenward flies, The Almighty's mysteries to read In the large volume of the skies; For the bright firmament Shoots forth no flame So silent, but is eloquent In speaking the Creator's name. No unregarded star Contracts its light Into so small a character, Removed far from our human sight, But if we steadfast look, We shall discern In it, as in some holy book, How man may heavenly knowledge learn. It tells the conqueror That far-stretch'd power, Which his proud dangers traffic for, Is but the triumph of an hour; That, from the furthest North, Some nation may, Yet undiscover'd, issue forth, And o'er his new-got conquest sway,-- Some nation, yet shut in With hills of ice, May be let out to scourge his sin Till they shall equal him in vice; And then they likewise shall Their ruin brave; For, as yourselves, your empires fall, _And every kingdom hath a grave_. Thus those celestial fires, Though seeming mute, The fallacy of our desires, And all the pride of life, confute;