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Where were ye, Nymphs, when the remorseless deep 50 Clos'd o'er the head of your lov'd Lycidas ? For neither were ye playing on the steep, Where your old Bards, the famous Druids, lie, Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high, Nor yet where Deva spreads her wisard-tream:
55 Ay me! I fondly dream. Had
been there, for what could that have done?
Alas! What boots it with incessant care To tend the homely flighted shepherd's trade, And ftri&tly meditate the thankless Muse? Were it not better done, as others use, To sport with Amaryllis in the shade, Or with the tangles of Neæra's hair? Fame is the fpur, that the clear spi'rit doth raise 70 (That last infirmity of noble mind) To fcorn delights and live laborious days ; But the fair guerdon, when we hope to find, And think to burst out into sudden blaze, Comes the blind Fury with th' abhorred shears, 75 And flits the thin-spun life. But not the praise, Phæbus reply'd, and touch'd my trembling ears ; Fame is no plant, that grows on mortal soil, Nor in the glitt'ring foil Set off to the world, nor in broad rumor lies, 80 But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, And perfect witness of all-judging Jove;
As he pronounces lastly on each deed,
O fountain Arethuse, and thou honor'd flood, 85
90 He ask'd the waves, and ask'd the fellon winds, What hard mishap hath doom'd this gentle swain ? And question'd every gust of rugged winds, That blows from off each beaked promontory ; They knew not of his story,
95 And sage Hippotades their answer brings, That not a blast was from his dungeon ftray'd, The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters play'd. It was that fatal and perfidious bark Built in th' eclipse, and rigg'd with curses dark, That-sunk so low that sacred head of thine.
Next Cainus, reverend fire, went footing flow, His mantle hairy, and his bonnet fedge, Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 105 Like to that sanguin flow'r inscrib'd with woe. Ah! Who hath reft (quoth he) my deareft pledge ? Lait came, and last did go, The pilot of the Galilean lake, Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain) He shook his miter'd locks, and stern bespake, How well could I have spar'd for thee, young swain, Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold?
115 Of other care they little reck’ning make,
Than how to scramble at the fearers feast,
Return Alpheus, the dread voice is paft,
135 Ye Valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, On whose fresh lap the swart ftar sparely looks, Throw hither all your quaint-enameld eyes, That on the green turf suck the honied showers, 140 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. Bring the rathe primrose, that forsaken dies, The tufted crow-toe, and pale jesfamine, The white pink, and the pansy freakt with jet, The glowing violet,
145 The musk-rose, and the well-attir’d woodbine, With cow lips wan, that hang the pensive head, And every flow's, that fad embroidery wears : Bid amarantus all his beauty shed, And daffadillies fill their cups with tears,
To Itrow the laureat-herse, where Lycid lies.
Weep no more, woful Shepherds, weep no more, 165
In thy large recompense, and thalt be good
Thus fang the uncouth swain to th' oaks and rills,
gray, He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, With eager thought warbling his Doric lay: And now the sun had ftretch'd out all the hills, 190 And now was dropt into the western bay; At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue; To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new.
On the new forcers of conscience under the Long
have thrown off your Prelate Lord, And with stiff vows renounc'd his Liturgy, To feise the widow'd whore Plurality
From them, whose fin ye envied, not abhorr’d,
To force our consciences that Christ set free,
Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford I?
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,
* This poem
suppos'd to have been made, when the Directory was established, and disputes ran high between the Presbyterians and Independents in 1645, the latter pleading for a toleration, and the former against it.
+ In the Presbyterian form of government there are congregational, classical, provincial, and national aflemblies.
| It is not known who is meant by A. S. Mr. Samuel Rotherford was Professor of Divinity at St Andrew's, and one of the Scotch commissioners to the Westminster assembly,