And what may quiet us in a death fo noble. 1725
Let us go find the Body where it lies

Şok'd in his enemies blood, and from the stream
With lavers pure and cleanfing 'herbs wash off
The clodded gore. I with what speed the whîle
Gaza is not in plight to fay us nay)
Will fend for all my kindred, all my friends
To fetch him hence and folemnly attend
With filent obfequie and funeral train

1730

Home to his father's houfe: there will I build him,
A Monument, and plant it round with fhade 1735.
Of Laurel ever green, and branching Palm,
With all his Trophies hung, and Acts enroll'd
In copious Legend, or fweet Lyrick Song.
Thither fhall all the valiant youth refort,
And from his memory inflame their breafts 1749
To matchlefs valour, and adventures high:
The Virgins alfo fhall on feaftful days
Vifit his Tomb with flowers, only bewailing
His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice,
From whence captivity and lofs of eyes.
Chor. All is beft, though we oft doubt,
What th' unfearchable difpofe
Of higheft wifdom brings about,
And ever best found in the clofe.

Oft he seems to hide his face,

But unexpectedly returns

And to his faithful Champion hath in place
Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns

1745

1750

And all that band them to refift

His uncontroulable intent,

His

fervant he with new acquift

Of true experience from this great event
With peace and confolation hath difmift,
And calm of mind all paffion fpent.

The EN D.

1755

LYCIDA S.

In this Monody the Author bewails a learned Friend, unfortunately drown'd in his paffage form Chefer on the Irish Seas, 1637. And by occafion foretells the ruin of our corrupted Clergy then in their height.

Et once more, Oye Laurels, and once more

YE

Ye Myrtles brown, with Ivy never-fear,
I come to pluck your Berries harsh and crude,
And with forc'd fingers rude,

Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year.
Bitter constraint, and fad occafion dear,
Compells me to disturb your season due:
For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime,
Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer:
Who would not fing for Lycidas? he knew
Himself to fing, and build the lofty thyme.
He must not flote upon his watry bear
Unwept, and welter to the parching wind,
Without the meed of fome melodious tear.
Begin then, Sifters of the facred well,
That from beneath the feat of Jove doth spring,
Begin, and fomewhat louder fweep the string,

H