Amor lo volfe, ed io a l'altrui peso Seppi ch Amor cofa mai volse indarmo. Deh! fofs' il mio cuor lento e'l duro feno A chi pianta dal ciel fi buon terreno.

CANZONE.

R Idonfi donne e giovani amorefi

M' accoftandofi attorno, e perche fcrivi,
Perche tu fcrivi in lingua ignota e frana
Verfeggiando d'amor, e come t'ofi?
Dinne, fe la tua speme fia mai vana,
E de penfieri lo miglior t'arrivi ;
Cofi mi van burlando, altri rivi
Altri lidi t'aspettan, & altre onde
Nelle sui verdi fponde

Spuntari ad her, ad hor a la tua chioma
L'immortal guiderdon d'eterne frondi
Perche alle spalle tue foverchia foma?
Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi
Dice mia Donna, e'l fuo dir, e il mio cuore
Questa e lingua di cui fi vanta Amore.

SONNET IV.

Diodati, e te'l dirò con maraviglia,

Quel ritrafo io ch'amor spregiar filea

E de fuoi lacci fpeffo mi ridea

Gia caddi, ov'huom dabben talhor s'impiglia.

Ne treccie d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia
M'abbaglian fi, ma fotte nova idea
Pellegrina bellezza che'l cuor bea,
Portamenti alti honefti, e nelle ciglia
Quel fereno fulgor d'amabil nero,
Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una,
El cantar che di mezzo l'hemifpero
Traviar ben può la faticofa Luna,
E degli occhi fuoi auventa fi gran fuoco
Che l'incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco.

SONNET V...

Per certo i bei voftr'occhi, Donna mik
Effer non puo che non fian lo mio fole
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei fuale
Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,
Mentre un caldo vapor (ne fenti pria)
Da quel lato fi fpinge ove mi duole,
Che forfe amanti nelle lor parole
Chiaman fofpir; io non fo che fi fia:
Parte rinchiufa, e turbida fi cela

Scoffo mi il petto, e poi n'ufcendo poco
Quivi d'attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela;
Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loce
Tutte le notti a me fuol far piovofe
Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rofe.

M

SONNET VI.

Giovane piano, e semplicetto amante
Poi che fuggir me ftesso in dubbio fono,
Madonna a voi del mio cuor l'humil done
Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante
L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, coftante,

De penfieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono ;
Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuone,
S'arma di fe, e d'intero diamante,

Tanto del forfe, e d'invidia ficuro,

Di timori, e fperanze al popol ufe
Quanto d'ingegno, e d'alto valor vago,
Edi cetra fonora, e delle mufe:
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
Ove amor mise l'insanabil ago.

SONNET VII.

On his being arriv'd to his 23d Year. How foon hath Time, the futtle thief of youth, Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year! My hafting days flie on with full career, But my late fpring no bud or bloffom fhew'th. Perhaps my femblance might deceive the truth, That I to manhood am arriv'd so near, And inward ripeness doth much less appear, That some more timely happy fpirits indu'th.

1

Yet be it lefs or more, or foon or flow,

It shall be still in ftri&teft measure ev'n, To that fame lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav'n; All is, if I have grace to use it fo,

As ever in my great task-Master's eye.

SONNET VIII.

To the Soldier,to Spare his Dwelling-place. Captain or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,

Whose chance on these defenceless doors may sease, If ever deed of honour did thee please,

Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee, for he knows the charms

That call Fame on such gentle acts as these,
And he can spread thy name o'er Lands and Seas
What ever clime the Sun's bright circle warms.
Lift not thy fpear against the Muses Bowre,
The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Towre
Went to the ground: And the repeated air
Of fad Electra's Poet had the power
To fave th' Athenian Walls from ruin bare,

SONNET IX.
To a Lady.

Lady that in the prime of earliest youth,
Wifely haft fun'd the broad way and the green,

And with those few art eminently feen,
That labour up the Hill of Heav'nly Truth,
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chofen thou haft, and they that overween,
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Thy care is fixt and zealously attends

To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light, And Hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be fuze Thou, when the bridegroom with his feaftful friends Paffes to blifs at the mid hour of night,

Haft gain'd thy entrance Virgin wife and pure.

To the Lady Margaret Lee, Daughter to the Earl of Marlborough.

Daughter to that good Earl, once President

Of England's Council, and her Treasury, Who liv'd in both, unftain'd with gold or fee, And left them both, more in himself content, Till the fad breaking of that Parliament

Broke him, as that dishonest victory

At Charonea, fatal to Liberty,

Kill'd with report that Old man eloquent, Though later born, than to have known the days Wherein your Father flourisht, yet by you, Madam, methinks I fee him living yet; So well your words his noble virtues praise, That all both judge you to relate them true, and to poffefs them, Honour'd Margares.