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Enter'd the world, now bleeds to give us ease;
Alas, how foon our fin

Sore doth begin

His infancy to feife!

O more exceeding love or law more just ?
Jual law indeed, but more exceeding love!
For we by rightful doom remediless

Were loft in death, till he that dwelt above
High thron'd in fecret blifs, for us frail dust
Emptied his glory ev'n to nakedness;

And that great covenant which we still transgress
Entirely fatisfied,

And the full wrath befide

Of vengeful justice bore for our excess,

And feals obedience firft with wounding smart
This day, but O ere long

Huge pangs and strong

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Will pierce more near his heart.

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VII.

At a SOLEMN MUSIC.

LEST pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy,
Sphere born harmonious fifters, Voice and Verse,
Wed your divine founds, and mix'd pow'r employ
Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce,
And to our high-raised phantasy present
That undisturbed song of pure concent,
Ay fung before the faphir'd-color'd throne
To him that fits thereon

With faintly fhout and folemn jubilee,
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
Their loud up-lifted angel-trumpets blow,

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And the cherubic host in thousand quires
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires,

With thofe juft Spirits that wear victorious palms,
Hymns devout and holy pfalms

Singing everlastingly ;

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That we on earth with undifcording voice

May rightly answer that melodious noife;
As once we did, till difproportion'd fin

Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din
Broke the fair mufic that all creature's made

To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
In perfect diapafon, while they flood

In first obedience, and their state of good.

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O may we foon again renew that song,

And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long
To his celeftial confort us unite,

To live with him, and fing in endless morn of light.

VIII.

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An EPITAPH on the MARCHIONESS of WINCHESTER *.

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HIS rich marble doth inter

The honor'd Wife of Winchester,

A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir,
Befides what her virtues fair

Added to her noble birth,

More than fhe could own from earth,

*This Lady was Jane, daughter of Thomas Lord Vifc. Savage, of Rock-Savage, Cheshire, who by marriage became the heir of Lord Darcy Earl of Rivers; and was the wife of John Marquis of Winchefter, and the mother of Charles first Duke of Bolton. She died in childbed of a fecond fon in the 23d year of her age; and Milton made these verses at Cambridge, as appears by the sequel.

Summers three times eight fave one

She had told; alas too foon,

After fo fhort time of breath,

To houfe with darknefs, and with death.
Yet had the number of her days
Been as complete as was her praise,
Nature and fate had had no ftrife
In giving limit to her life.

Her high birth, and her graces fweet
Quickly found a lover meet;
The virgin quire for her requeft
The God that fits at marriage feast ;
He at their invoking came
But with a fcarce well lighted flame;
And in his garland as he stood,
Yet might difcern a cypress bud.
Once had the early matrons run
To greet her of a lovely fon,

And now with fecond hope she goes,
And calls Lucinda to her throws;.
But whether by mifchance or blame
Atropos for Lucina came;
And with remorseless cruelty
Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree:
The hapless babe before his birth
Had burial yet not laid in earth,
And the languish'd mother's womb
Was not long a living tomb..
So have I seen some tender flip,
Sav'd with care from winter's nip,
The pride of her carnation train
Pluck'd up by fome unheedy fwain,

22. a cyprefs bud.] An emblem of a funeral.

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28. Atropos for Lucina came;] One of the Fates, inftead of the

Goddefs, who brings the birth to light.

Who only thought to crop the flow'r

New fhot up from vernal show'r;
But the fair bloffom hangs the head
Side-ways, as on a dying-bed,
Ana those pearls of dew she wears,
Prove to be presaging tears,
Which the fad morn had let fall
On her haft'ning funeral.
Gentle Lady, may thy grave
Peace and quiet ever have;
After this thy travel fore
Sweet reft feife thee evermore,
That to give the world increase,
Shortened haft thy own life's leafe.
Here, befides the forrowing
That thy noble house doth bring,
Here be tears of perfect moan
Wept for thee in Helicon,

And fome flowers, and fome bays,
For thy herfe, to ftrow the ways,.

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Sent thee from the banks of Came,

Devoted to thy virtuous name;

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Whilft thou, bright Saint, high fitft in glory,

Next her much like to thee in ftory,

That fair Syrian fhepherdess,

Who after years of barrenness,

The highly favor'd Jofeph bore

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To him that ferv'd for her before,

And at her next birth much like thee,
Through pangs fled to felicity,

63. That fair Syrian fhepherdefs,] Rachael, the daughter of Laban the Syrian, kept her father's fheep. Gen. XXIX. 9.. And after her first fon Jofeph, died in childbed of her fecond fon Benjamin.

Far within the bosom bright

Of blazing Majesty and Light:
There with thee, new welcome Saint,
Like fortunes may her foul acquaint,
With thee there clad in radiant sheen,

No Marchioness, but now a Queen.

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IX.

SONG. On MAY MORNING.

OW the bright morning star, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her

The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowflip, and the pale primrose,
Hail bounteous May that doft inspire
Mirth and youth and warm defire ;
Woods and groves are of thy dreffing,
Hill and dale doth boast thy bleffing.
Thus we falute thee with our early fong,
And welcome thee, and with thee long.

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X.

On SHAKESPEAR. 1630.

WHAT needs my Shakespear for his honor'd bones

The labor of an age in piled ftones,

Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid

Under a ftarry-pointing pyramid ?

Dear fon of memory, great heir of fame,

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What need'st thou fuch weak witnefs of thy name?

Thou in our wonder and astonishment

Haft built thyfelf a live-long monument.

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