Beauty and Fear did her create,
Younger than Love, elder than Hate.
Sister to both, by Beauty's side
To Love, by Fear to Hate ally'd.
Despair her issue is, whose race
Of fruitful mischief drowns the space
Of the wide earth in a swoln flood
Of wrath, revenge, spite, rage, and blood.

SONG.

A LOVER, IN THE DISGUISE OF AN AMAZON, IS DEARLY BELOVED OF HIS MISTRESS.

CEASE, thou afflicted soul, to mourn,

Whose love and faith are paid with scorn;

For I am starv'd that feel the blisses,
Of dear embraces, smiles and kisses,
From my soul's idol, yet complain
Of equal love more than disdain.

Cease, beauty's exile, to lament
The frozen shades of banishment,
For I in that fair bosom dwell,
That is my Paradise and Hell;
Banish'd at home, at once at ease
In the safe port, and tost on seas.

Cease in cold jealous fears to pine,
Sad wretch, whom rivals undermine

For though I had lock'd in mine arms
My life's sole joy, a traitor's charms
Prevail; whilst I may only blame
Myself, that mine own rival am.

AN HYMENEAL DIALOGUE.

BRIDE AND GROOM.

GROOM.

TELL me (my love) since Hymen ty'd
The holy knot, hast thou not felt
A new infused spirit slide

Into thy breast, whilst thine did melt?

BRIDE.

First tell me (sweet) whose words were those?
For though your voice the air did break,
Yet did my soul the sense compose,

And through your lips my heart did speak.

UPON MR. W. MONTAGUE

HIS RETURN FROM TRAVEL.

LEAD the black bull to slaughter, with the boar
And lamb; then purple with their mingled gore
The Ocean's curled brow, that so we may
The sea-gods for their careful waftage pay:

Send grateful incense up in pious smoke
To those mild spirits that cast a curbing yoke
Upon the stubborn winds, that calmly blew
To the wish'd shore our long'd-for Montague:
Then, whilst the aromatic odours burn
In honour of their darling's safe return,

The Muse's quire shall thus with voice and hand
Bless the fair gale that drove his ship to land.

Sweetly-breathing vernal air

That with kind warmth do'st repair
Winter's ruins; from whose breast
All the gums and spice of th' east
Borrow their perfumes; whose eye
Gilds the morn, and clears the sky;
Whose disshevel'd tresses shed
Pearls upon the violet bed;

On whose brow, with calm smiles dress'd,
The halcyon sits snd builds her nest;

Beauty, youth, and endless spring,
Dwell upon thy rosy wing.
Thou, if stormy Boreas throws

Down whole forests when he blows,
With a pregnant flow'ry birth
Canst refresh the teeming earth:
If he nip the early bud,
If he blast what's fair or good,
If he scatter our choice flowers,
If he shake our hills or bowers,
If his rude breath threaten us;
Thou canst stroke great Eolus,
And from him the grace obtain
To bind him in an iron chain.

Thus, whilst you deal your body 'mongst your

friends,

And fill their circling arms, my glad soul sends
This her embrace: thus we of Delphos greet;
As lay-men.clasp their hands, we join our feet.

TO A LADY,

THAT DESIRED I WOULD LOVE HER.

Now you have freely given me leave to love,
What will you do?

Shall I your mirth or passion move,
When I begin to woo?

Will you torment, or scorn, or love me too?

Each petty beauty can disdain, and I,
Spite of your hate,

Without your leave can see and die :
Dispense a nobler fate;

'Tis easy to destroy, you may create.

Then give me leave to love, and love me too;
Not with design

To raise, as Love's curst rebels do,

When puling poets whine,

Fame to their beauty from their blubber'd eyn.

Grief is a puddle, and reflects not clear
Your beauty's rays:

Joys are pure streams, your eyes appear
Sullen in sadder lays;

In cheerful numbers they shine bright with praise;

VOL, IV.

LI

Which shall not mention, to express you fair,
Wounds, flames, and darts,

Storms in your brow, nets in your hair,
Suborning all your parts,

Or to betray or torture captive hearts.

I'll make your eyes like morning suns appear,
As mild and fair;

Your brow, as crystal smooth and clear;
And your disshevel'd hair

Shall flow like a calm region of the air.

Rich Nature's store (which is the poet's treasure)
I'll spend to dress

Your beauties, if your mine of pleasure
In equal thankfulness

You but unlock, so we each other bless.

TO MY FRIEND G. N.

FROM WREST.

I BREATHE, Sweet Ghibs, the temperate air of Wrest, Where I, no more with raging storms opprest, Wear the cold nights out by the banks of Tweed, On the bleak mountains where fierce tempests breed, And everlasting winter dwells; where mild Favonius and the vernal winds, exil'd,

Did never spread their wings: but the wild north Brings sterile fern, thistles, and brambles forth. Here, steep'd in balmy dew, the pregnant Earth Sends from her teeming womb a flow'ry birth;