Imatges de pÓgina
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And in Times long and dark Prospective Glass
Fore-saw what future dayes should bring to pass,
Your Son, said she, (nor can you it prevent)
Shall subject be to many an Accident.
O're all his Brethren he shall Reign as King,
Yet every one shall make him underling,
And those that cannot live from him asunder
Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under,
In worth and excellence he shall out-go them,
Yet being above them, he shall be below them;
From others he shall stand in need of nothing,
Yet on his Brothers shall depend for Cloathing.
To find a Foe it shall not be his hap,
And peace shall lull him in her flowry lap;
Yet shall he live in strife, and at his dore
Devouring war shall never cease to roare ;
Yea it shall be his natural property
To harbour those that are at enmity.
What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not
Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot?

90

The next Quantity and Quality, spake in Prose, then Relation was call'd

by his Name.

Rivers arise ; whether thou be the Son,
Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulphie Dun,
Or Trent, who like some earth-born Giant spreads
His thirty Armes along the indented Meads,
Or sullen Mole that runneth underneath,
Or Severn swift, guilty of Maidens death,
Or Rockie Avon, or of Sedgie Lee,
Or Coaly Tine, or antient hallowed Dee,
Or Humber loud that keeps the Scythians Name,
Or Medway smooth, or Royal Towred Thame.

The rest was Prose.

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The Fifth Ode of Horace. Lib. I. Quis multa gracilis te puer in Rosa, Rendred almost word for word without Rhyme according to the Latin Measure, as near as the Language will permit.

What slender Youth bedew'd with liquid odours
Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,

Pyrrha for whom bind'st thou

In wreaths thy golden Hair,
Plain in thy neatness ;. O how oft shall he
On Faith and changed Gods complain: and Seas

Rough with black winds and storms

Unwonted shall admire :
Who now enjoyes thee credulous, all Gold,
Who alwayes vacant, alwayes amiable

Hopes thee; of flattering gales

Unmindfull. Hapless they
To whom thou untry'd seem'st fair. Me in my vow'd
Picture the sacred wall declaresť have hung

My dank and dropping weeds
To the stern God of Sea.

[The Latin text follows.]

IO

SONNETS.

XI
A Book was writ of late callid Tetrachordon;

And wov'n close, both matter, form and stile ;
The Subject new : it walk'd the Town a while,

Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.
Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on

A title page is this! and some in file
Stand spelling fals, while one might walk to Mile-

End Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?

Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek

That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,

Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp; When thou taught st Cambridge, and King Edward Greek. xi. Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Detraction which followed upon my writing certain Treatises.

IO

XII. On the same.

I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs

By the known rules of antient libertie,
When strait a barbarous noise environs me

Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs.
As when those Hinds that were transform'd to Froggs

Raild at Latona's twin-born progenie
Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee.

But this is got by casting Pearl to Hoggs;
That bawle for freedom in their senceless mood,

And still revolt when truth would set them free.

Licence they mean when they cry libertie;
For who loves that, must first be wise and good;

But from that mark how far they roave we see
For all this wast of wealth, and loss of blood.

IO

To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.

XIII

Harry whose tuneful and well measur'd Song

First taught our English Musick how to span
Words with just note and accent, not to scan

With Midas Ears, committing short and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,

With praise enough for Envy to look wan;
To after age thou shalt be writ the man,

That with smooth aire couldst humor best our tongue. Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must send her wing

To honour thee, the Priest of Phæbus Quire

That tun'st their happiest lines in Hymn, or Story.
Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher

Then his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing
Met in the milder shades of Purgatory.

IO

9 send] lend Cambridge Autograph MS.

XIV

When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,

Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load

Of Death, callid Life ; which us from Life doth sever. Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour

Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But as Faith pointed with her golden rod,

Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Love led them on, and Faith who knew them best

Thy hand-maids, clad them o're with purple beams

And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,
And speak the truth of thee on glorious Theams

Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.

Ιο

On the late Massacher in Piemont.

XV

Avenge O Lord thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones

Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold,
Ev'n them who kept thy truth so pure of old

When all our Fathers worship’t Stocks and Stones,
Forget not: in thy book record their groanes

Who were thy Sheep and in their antient Fold
Slayn by the bloody Piemontese that rollid

Mother with Infant down the Rocks. Their moans
The Vales redoubl'd to the Hills, and they

To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow

O're all th’Italian fields where still doth sway
The triple Tyrant: that from these may grow

A hunder'd-fold, who having learnt thy way
Early may fly the Babylonian wo.

IO

xiv. Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Religious Memory of Mrs. Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, deceased 16 Decemb. 1646.

XVI
When I consider how my light is spent,

E’re half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide,

Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present

My true account, least he returning chide,
Doth God exact day-labour, light deny'd,

I fondly ask; But patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need

Either man's work or his own gifts, who best

Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State
Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed

And post o’re Land and Ocean without rest :
They also serve who only stand and waite.

IO

XVII
Lawrence of vertuous Father vertuous Son,

Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire,
Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire

Help wast a sullen day; what may be won
From the hard Season gaining : time will run

On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire
The frozen earth; and cloth in fresh attire

The Lillie and Rose, that neither sow'd nor spun.
What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,

Of Attick tast, with Wine, whence we may rise

To hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice
Warble immortal Notes and Tuskan Ayre?

He who of those delights can judge, and spare
To interpose them oft, is not unwise.

10

XVIII
Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench

Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause
Pronounc't and in his volumes taught our Lawes,

Which others at their Barr so often wrench :
To day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench

In mirth, that after no repenting drawes;
Let Euclid rest and Archimedes pause,

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