To the first edition of the author's poems printed in 1645 was prefixed the following advertisement of The STATIONER to the READER. I T is not any private refpect of gain, gentle Reader, for the flightest pamphlet is now adays more vendible than the works of learnedeft men; but it is the love I have to our own language, that hath made me diligent to collect and set forth fuch pieces both in profe and verse, as may renew the wonted honor and esteem of our English tongue and it's the worth of thefe both English and Latin poems, not the florish of any prefixed encomiums that can invite thee to buy them, though these are not without the highest commendations and applause of the learnedeft Academics, both domeftic and foreign; and amongst thofe of our own country, the unparallel'd atteftation of that renowned Provost of Eton, Sir Henry Wotton. I know not thy palate how it relishes fuch dainties, nor how harmonious thy foul is; perhaps more trivial airs may please thee better. But howfoever thy opinion is fpent upon thefe, that encouragement I have already received from the most ingenious men in their clear and courteous entertainment of Mr. Waller's late choice pieces, hath once more made me adventure into the world, prefenting it with thefe ever-green, and not to be blafted laurels. The Author's more peculiar excellency in these ftudies was too well known to conceal his papers, or to keep me from attempting to folicit them from him. Let the event guide itself which way it will, I fhall deferve of the age, by bringing into the light as true a birth, as the Mufes have brought forth fince our famous Spenfer wrote; whofe poems in thefe English ones are as rarely imitated, as sweetly excell'd. Reader, if thou art eagle-ey'd to cenfure their worth, I am not fearful to expofe them to thy exacteft perufal. Thine to command, HUMPH, MOSELEY, On the death of a fair Infant, dying of a cough, I. Faireft flow'r no fooner blown but blasted, Soft filken primrose fading timelefly, Summer's chief honor, if thou hadft out-lasted Bleak Winter's force that made thy bloffom dry; For he being amorous on that lovely dye That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kifs, But kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal bliss. II. For fince grim Aquilo his charioteer Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, [held. Which 'mongst the wanton Gods a foul reproach was III. So mounting up in icy-pearled car, But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace, 20 Unhous'd thy virgin foul from her fair biding place. IV. 25 Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate; V. Yet can I not perfuade me thou art dead, Or that thy corfe corrupts in earth's dark womb, 30 Hid from the world in a low delved tomb; Oh no! for fomething in thy face did shine Above mortality, that fhow'd thou waft divine. 35 VI. Refolve me then, oh Soul moft furely bleft, 40 Oh fay me true, if thou wert mortal wight, And why from us fo quickly thou didst take thy flight. Wert VII. Wert thou fome star which from the ruin'd roof 45 Of theeny Heav'n, and thou fome Goddess fled Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head? VIII. Or wert thou that juft Maid who once before 50 Or that crown'd matron fage white-robed Truth? Or any other of that heav'nly brood 55 Let down in cloudy throne to do the world fome good? IX. 60 Or wert thou of the golden-winged hoft, X. But oh why didst thou not stay here below 65 To ftand 'twixt us and our deferved fmart? But thou canst best perform that office where thou art. N 3 Then |