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On the death of a fair Infant, dying of a cough.


FAIREST flow'r no sooner blown but blafsted,
Soft filken primrose fading timelesly,

Summer's chief honor, if thou hadft out-lafted
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry;
For he being amorous on that lovely dye

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, But kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal blifs. II.

For fince grim Aquilo his charioteer

By boiftrous rape th’Athenian damsel got,
He thought it touch'd his deity full near,
If likewise he fome fair one wedded not,
Thereby to wipe away th'infamous blot



Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, (held. Which 'mongst the wanton Gods a foul reproach was

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So mounting up in icy-pearled car,

Through middle empire of the freezing air
He wander'd long, till thee he fpy'd from far;
There ended was his quest, there ceas'd his care.
Down he defcended from his fnow-foft chair,


But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace Unhous'd thy virgin foul from her fair biding place.


Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
For fo Apollo, with unweeting hand,
Whilome did flay his dearly-loved mate,
Young Hyacinth born on Eurota's strand,
Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;


But then transform'd him to a purple flower: Alack that fo to change thee Winter had no power.


Yet can I not perfuade me thou art dead,

Or that thy corfe corrupts in earth's dark womb, 30
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,

Hid from the world in a low delved tomb;
Could Heav'n for pity thee so strictly doom?

Oh no! for fomething in thy face did fhine
Above mortality, that show'd thou waft divine.

Resolve me then, oh Soul most surely blest,
(If fo it be that thou these plaints dost hear)
Tell me bright Spirit where'er thou hoverest,



Whether above that high first-moving sphere,
Or in th'Elysian fields (if fuch there were)


Oh fay me true, if thou wert mortal wight,
And why from us fo quickly thou didst take thy flight.

Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof,
Of shak'd Olympus by mischance didst fall;
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof
Took up,
and in fit place did reinstall?
Or did of late earth's fons befiege the wall

O fheeny Heav'n, and thou some Goddess fled Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head?


Or wert thou that just Maid who once before
Forfook the hated earth, O tell me footh,
And cam'ft again to visit us once more?

Or wert thou that sweet smiling Youth?

Or that crown'd matron sage white-robed Truth? Or any other of that heav'nly brood




Let down in cloudy throne to do the world fome good?


Or wert thou of the golden-winged hoft,
Who having clad thyfelf in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post,
And after short abode fly back with speed,
As if to show what creatures Heav'n doth breed,

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire


To scorn the fordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire?

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But oh why didst thou not stay here below
To bless us with thy heav'n-lov'd innocence,
To flake his wrath whom fin hath made our foe,

To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence,
Or drive away the flaughtering peftilence,

To ftand 'twixt us and our deserved fmart?



But thou canst best perform that office where thou art.


Then thou the Mother of fo fweet a Child
Her false imagin'd lofs cease to lament,
And wifely learn to curb thy forrows wild;
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,
And render him with patience what he lent;
This if thou do, he will an ofspring give,
That till the world's laft end shall make thy name to live.



Anno AEtatis 19. At a Vacation Exercife in the college, part Latin, part English. The Latin speeches ended, the English thus began.


A IL native Language, that by finews weak

Didst move my firft endevoring tongue to speak, And mad'ft imperfect words with childish trips, Half unpronounc'd, flide through my infant-lips, Driving dumb filence from the portal door, Where he had mutely fat two years before: Here I falute thee, and thy pardon ask,

That now I use thee in my

latter task:



Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,
I know my tongue but little grace can do thee:
Thou need'st not be ambitious to the first,
Believe me I have thither packt the worst:
And, if it happen as I did forecast,
The daintieft difhes fhall be ferv'd up laft.
I pray thee then deny me not thy aid



For this same small neglect that I have made:
But hafte thee ftrait to do me once a pleasure,

And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefeft treasure,
Not those new fangled toys, and trimming flight
Which takes our late fantastics with delight,
But cull those richest robes, and gay'st attire
Which deepest spirits, and choiceft wits defire:
I have some naked thoughts that rove about,
And loudly knock to have their passage out;
And weary of their place do only stay
Till thou haft deck'd them in thy best array;
That so they may without fufpect or fears
Fly swiftly to this fair affembly's ears;
Yet I had rather, if I were to chufe,

Thy service in fome graver subject use,

Such as may make thee search thy coffers round,
Before thou clothe my fancy in fit found:
Such where the deep transported mind may foar
Above the wheeling poles, and at Heav'n's door
Look in, and fee each blissful Deity

How he before the thunderous throne doth lie,

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