« السابقةمتابعة »
Ne treccio d'oro, ne guancia vermiglia
M'abbaglian fi, ma sotto nova idea
Portamenti alti honefti, e nelle ciglia
Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una,
E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemisfero
E degli ocsbi suoi auventa si gran fuoco
S O N N E T V.
Per certo i bei vnfr'occhi, Donna mid
Eser non puo che non fian bo mio fole
Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,
Da quel late fi spinge ove mi duole,
Chiaman sospir; io non so che fi fia:
Scuffo mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco
Quivi d'attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela;
Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose.
SON N E T VI.
Giovane piano, e semplicetto amante
Poi che fuggir me fteffo in dubbio sono,
Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante
De penfieri lezgiadro, accorto, e buono ;
S'arma di se, e d'intero diamante,
Di timori, e speranze al popol use
Quanto d'ingegno, e d'alto valor vago,
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
SO N N E T VII.
On his being arriv'd to bis 234 Year. How soon hath Time, the suttle chief of youth,
Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year! My hafting days flie on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'th. Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arriv'd so near,
Yet be it less or more, or soon or Now,
It shall be still in ftri&test measure ev'n,
To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heav'a;
All is, if I have grace to use it so,
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,
What ever clime the Sun's bright circle warms. Lift not thy spear against the Muses Bowre,
The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Towie Went to the ground : And the repeated air
Of sad EleEtra's Poet had the power
S O N N E T IX.
To a Lady. Lady that in the prime of earliest youth, Wisely haft fhun’d the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the Hill of Heav'nly Truth,
Chosen thou hast, and they that overweca,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruch.
To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light,
And Hope that reaps not hame. Therefore be sure Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends
Palles to bliss at the mid hour of night,
SON N E T X. To the Lady Margaret Lee, Daughter to the Earlof
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,
And left them both, more in himself content, Till the sad breaking of that Parliament
Broke him, as that dishoneft victory
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 see him living yet ; So well your words his noble virtues praise, That all both judge you to relate them trucs nd to poftels them, Honour’d Margares.
S O N N E T XI.
And woven close, both matter, form and stike;
Numb’ring good intellects; now seldom por'd ok.
A title page is this! and some in file
End Green. Why is it harder Sirs than Gordon,
Those rugged Names to our like mouths grow sleek,
That would have made Quintilian ftare and gasp.
Hated not Learning worse than Toad or Afp;
(Greek SONNET XIL
On the same.
By the known rules of ancient Liberty,
Of Owls and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Dogs.
Rail'd at Latona's twin-bora Progenie