Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
Ove Amor mise l'infanabil ago.
On his being arriv'd to the age of 23.
How foon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full carreer,
But my late spring no bud or blossom shew'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 spirits indu'th.
Yet be it less or more, or foon or flow,
It shall be still in strictest measure even To that fame lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven; All is, if I have grace to use it so,
As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.
When the affault was intended to the City.
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in arms,
Whose chance on these defenseless doors may seise,
If deed of honor did thee ever 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-
Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms.
Lift not thy spear against the Muses bow'r:
The great Emathian conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus, when temple' and tow'r
Went to the ground: And the repeated air
Of fad Electra's poet had the pow'r
To fave th' Athenian walls from ruin bare.
To a virtuous young Lady.
Lady that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the green
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labor 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 fix'd, and zealously attends
To fill the odorous lamp with deeds of light, 10 And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night, Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wife and pure.
To the Lady Margaret Ley. Daughter to that good Earl, once President Of England's Council, and her Treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till fad the breaking of that Parlament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,
Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.
Though later born than to have known the days
Wherein your father florish'd, 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, honor'd Margaret.
On the detraction which follow'd upon my writing certain
A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,
And woven close, both matter, form and stile;
The fubject new: it walk'd the town a while,
Numb'ring good intellects; now feldom por'd on.
Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on
A title page is this! and some in file
Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile-
End Green. Why is it harder Sirs than Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow fleek, That would have made Quintilian stare and gafp. Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, (Greek. When thou taught'st Cambridge, and king Edward
I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs
By the known rules of ancient liberty,
When straight a barbarous noise environs me
Of owls and cuccoos, affes, apes and dogs:
As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs 5
Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,
Which after held the fun and moon in fee.
But this is got by cafting pearl to hogs;
That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood,
And still revolt when truth would fet them free. 10
Licence they mean when they cry Liberty;
For who loves that, must first be wife and good;
But from that mark how far they rove we fee
For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood.
To Mr. H. LAWES on his Airs. Harry, whose tuneful and well measur'd fong First taught our English music how to span Words with just note and accent, not to fscan With Midas ears, committing short and long; Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, 5 With praise enough for envy to look wan; To after age thou shalt be writ the man,
That with smooth air couldsthumour best our tongue.
Thou honor'st verse, and verse must lend her wing
To honor thee, the priest of Phœbus quire,
That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn, or story.
Dante shall give fame leave to fet thee higher
Than his Cafella, whom he woo'd to fing
Met in the milder shades of purgatory.
On the religious memory of Mrs. Catharine Thomson, my
Christian friend, deceas'd 16 Decem. 1646.
When faith and love, which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just foul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load
Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth fever.
Thy works and alms and all thy good endevor
Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But as faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and blifs for ever.
Love led them on, and faith who knew them best
Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,
And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee reft
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.
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