He was a shepherd, and no mercenary, which is the only warrant the text afforded for these beautiful lines in the paraphrase of Dryden: The prelate for his holy life he prized; The worldly pomp of prelacy despised. His Saviour came not with a gaudy show, Nor was his kingdom of the world below. Patience in want, and poverty of mind, } These marks of church and churchmen he designed, } And living taught, and dying left behind. } The crown he wore was of the pointed thorn; In purple he was crucified, not born. They who contend for place and high degree, Are not his sons, but those of Zebedee. Having gained so much from the masculine and buoyant genius of Dryden, the newly fashioned tales took their rank as independent works, and were rather valued for their want of resemblance to Chaucer than because they were a true reflection of him. There are defects in the modern version. The language is sometimes too colloquial, and there are many careless lines; but in the main the verse bounds and dances along with equal strength, facility, and grace, exhibiting one of the most wonderful specimens in literature of the power, spirit, and abundance of the simplest English when moulded by a master. The Flower and the Leaf, which might have been written in the fairy land it describes, is pre-eminent above the rest for its bright unceasing flow of delicious poetry, for its chaste yet luxuriant diction, for its sustained and various melody, for its lovely pictures both earthly and ethereal, for its pure, refined, and elevating sentiment.