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To the first edition of the author's poems printed in 1645 was prefixed the following advertisement of The STATIONER to the READER.

is 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 these 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 learnedeftAcademics, bothdomestic and foreign; and amongst those of our own country, the unparallel'd attestation of that renowned Provost of Eton, Sir Henry Wotton. Iknow not thy palate how it relishes fuch dainties, nor how harmonious thy foulis ; perhaps more trivial airs may please thee better. But howsoever thy opinion is spent upon these, that encouragement I have alreadyreceived from the most ingeniousmenintheirclear andcourteous entertainment of Mr.Waller'slate choicepieces, hathonce more made me adventure into the world, presenting it with these ever-green, and not to be blasted laurels. The Author's more peculiar excellency in these studies was too welt 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 shall deferve of the age, by bringing into the light as true a birth, as the Muses have brought forth fince our famous Spenser 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 expose them to thy exactest perufal.

Thine to command,

HUMPH. MOSELEY.

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ANNO AETATIS 17.

On the death of a fair Infant, dying of a cough.

I.

Fairest flow'r no sooner blown but blasted, Soft silken primrose fading timelesly, Summer's chief honor, if thou hadst out-lasted Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry; For he being amorous on that lovely dye

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, But kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal bliss.

II.

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For fince grim Aquilo his charioteer
By boistrous rape th' Athenian damsel got,

He thought it touch'd his deity full near,

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If likewife he some fair one wedded not,

Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot

Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, (held. Which 'mongst the wanton Gods a foul reproach was

So

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III.

So mounting up in icy-pearled car,
Through middle empire of the freezing air
He wander'd long, till thee he spy'd from far;
There ended was his quest, there ceas'd his care.
Down he defcended from his snow-foft chair,

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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;
For fo Apollo, with unweeting hand,
Whilome did flay his dearly-loved mate,
Young Hyacinth born on Eurota's strand,
Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;

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But then transform'd him to a purple flower : Alack that so to change thee Winter had no power. V.

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Yet can I not perfuade me thou art dead,
Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,
Hid from the world in a low delved tomb;
Could Heav'n for pity thee so strictly doom?
Oh no! for fomething in thy face did shine
Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine. 35

VI.

Resolve me then, oh Soul most surely blest,
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear)
Tell me bright Spirit where'er thou hovereft,

Whether

Whether above that high first-moving sphere,
Or in th' Elysian fields (if such there were)
Oh say me true, if thou wert mortal wight,
And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight.

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VII..

Wert thou fome star which from the ruin'd roof,
Of shak'd Olympus by mischance didst fall ;
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall?
Or did of late earth's fons besiege the wall

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Of sheeny Heav'n, and thou some Goddess fled Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head?

VIH.

Or wert thou that just Maid who once before 50
Forsook the hated earth, O tell me footh,

And cam'st again to visit us once more?
Or wert thou that sweet smiling Youth?
Or that crown'd matron sage white-robed Truth?
Or any other of that heav'nly brood
Letdown in cloudy throne todo the world some good?

IX.

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Or wert thou of the golden-winged hoft,
Who having clad thyself in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixed feat didst post,
And after short abode fly back with speed,
As if to show what creatures Heav'n doth breed,
Thereby to fet the hearts of men on fire

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To fcorn the fordid world, and unto heav'n aspire?

But

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