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His uncontrollable intent;
His fervants he with new acquist
Of true experience from this great event
To the first edition of the author's poems printed in 1645 was prefixed the following advertisement of The STATIONER to the READER.
Tis not any private respect of gain, gentle Reader, for
the flightest pamphlet is now a days more vendible than the works of learnedest men; but it is the love I have to our own language, that hath made me diligent to collect and fet 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 spent upon thefe, that encouragement I have alreadyreceived from the most ingeniousmen in their clear and courteous entertainment of Mr.Waller's late choice pieces, hathonce more made me adventure into the world, prefenting it with these ever-green, and not to be blafted laurels. The Author's more peculiar excellency in thefe 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; whose poems in these English ones are as rarely imitated, as fweetly 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,
On the death of a fair Infant, dying of a cough.
Faireft flow'r no fooner blown but blasted, Soft filken primrose, fading timelesly, Summer's chief honor, if thou hadft out-lafted Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom 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
By boiftrous rape th' Athenian damfel got,
Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, (held. Which 'mongst the wanton Gods a foul reproach was
So mounting up in icy-pearled car,
Through middle empire of the freezing air
But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace 20 Unhous'd thy virgin foul from her fair biding place. IV.
Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
Yet can I not perfuade me thou art dead,
Hid from the world in a low delved tomb;
Oh no! for something in thy face did shine Above mortality, that show'd thou waft divine. 35
Resolve me then, oh Soul most surely bleft,