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From the Sun-rise ; a Poem. THOU youthful goddess of the morn,
Whose blush they in the east adore, Daughter of Phoebus, who before Thy all-enlightening sire art born! Haste, and restore the day to me, That my love's beauteous object I may see. Too much of time the night devours,
The cock's shrill voice calls thee again, Then quickly mount thy golden wain, Drawn by the softly-sliding hours, And make apparent to all eyes With what enamel thou dost paint the skies. Ah, now I see the sweetest dawn!
Thrice welcome to my longing sight!
Hail, divine beauty, heavenly light;
Of sad and melancholy dreams,
Sweetly the listening ear enthral,
With holy reverence inspir'd,
When first the day renews its light,
The earth, at so divine a sight,
Having his humble homage paid,
Buzzing, to drink the morning's tears,
And from the early lily bears
&c. &c. &c.
• The remainder of this poem would now be thought forced and unnatural,
SIR ROBERT HOWARD.
To the inconstant Cynthia. IN thy fair breast, and once fair soul,
I thought my vows were writ alone :
That I no more could read my own.
Our tears as well must be unkind;
And I that did such falseness find. Thus we must unconcern'd remain In our divided joys and pain. Yet we may love, but on this different score, You what I am, I what you were before,
THE RESOLUTION. No, Cynthia,
never think I can Love a divided heart and mind; Your sunshine love to every man,
Appears alike as great as kind. • None but the duller Persians kneel,
And the bright god of beams implore ; Whilst others equal influence feel,
That never did the god adore. Though I resolve to love no more,
Since I did once, I will advise : The love of conquests now give o'er;
Disquiets wait on victories.
To your much injured peace and name,
Love's farewel as a tribute pay ; Grow more reserv'd, and raise your fame
By your own choice, not your decay. She that to age her charms resigns,
And then at last turns votary, Though virtue much the change inclines,
"Tis sullied by necessity.
STANZAS On Clarastella saying she would commit herself to
a Nunnery. STAY, Clarastella, prithee stay !
Recal those frantic vows again!
As well as me, in fond disdain?
If but the cause you could remove
Where beauty is, there will be love. Nature, that wisely nothing made in vain, Did make you lovely to be lov'd again, And, when such beauty tempts, can love refrain? When Heaven was prodigal to you,
And you with beauty's glory stored, He made you like himself for view,
To be beheld and then adored. Why should the gold then fear to see that sun That form'd it pure? Why should you live a nun, And hide those rays Heav'n gave to you alone? Thyself a holy temple art,
Where love shall teach us both to pray; I'll make an altar of my heart,
And incense on thy lips I'll lay. Thy mouth shall be my oracle, and then For beads we'll tell our kisses o'er again, Till they, breath'd from our souls, shall cry, amen.