Tho' this seemed a promising omen, to be thus introduced to court, yet he did not instantly reap any advantage from it. He was indeed created poet laureat to Queen Elizabeth, but he for some time wore a barren laurel, and possessed only the place without the pension [2]. Lord treasurer Burleigh, under whose displeasure Spenser laboured, took care to intercept the Queen's favours to this unhappy great man. As misfortunes have the most influence on elegant and polished minds, so it was no wonder that Spenser was much depressed by the cold reception he met with from the great; a circumstance which not a little detracts from the merit of the ministers then in power: for I know not if all the political transactions of Burleigh, are sufficient to counterballance the infamy affixed on his name, by prosecuting resentment against distressed merit, and keeping him who was the ornament of the times, as much distant as possible from the approach of competence. These discouragements greatly sunk our author's spirit, and accordingly we find him pouring out his heart, in complaints of so injurious and undeserved a treatment; which probably, would have been less unfortunate to him, if his noble patron Sir Philip Sidney had not been so much absent from court, as by his employments abroad, and the share he had in the Low-Country wars, he was obliged to be. In a poem called, The Ruins of Time, which was written some time after Sidney's death, the author seems to allude to the discouragement I have mentioned in the following stanza. O grief of griefs, O gall of all good hearts! To see that virtue should despised be, Of such as first were raised for virtue's parts, And now broad-spreading like an aged tree, Let none shoot up that nigh them planted be; O let not these, of whom the muse is scorned, Alive or dead be by the muse adorned. These lines are certainly meant to reflect on Burleigh for neglecting him, and the Lord Treasurer afterwards conceived a hatred towards him for the satire he apprehended was levelled at him in Mother Hubbard's Tale. In this poem, the author has in the most lively manner, painted out the misfortune of depending on court favours. The lines which follow are among others very remarkable. Full little knowest thou, that hast not try'd, What Hell it is in suing long to bide, To dole good days, that nights be better spent, To waste long nights in pensive discontent; To speed to day, to be put back to-morrow, To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow To have thy prince's grace, yet want her peers, To have thy asking, yet wait many years. To fret thy soul with crosses, and with care. To eat thy heart, thro' comfortless despair; To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run To spend, to give, to want, to be undone.