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And in Times long and dark Prospective Glass
The next Quantity and Quality, spake in Prose, then Relation was call'd
by his Name.
Rivers arise ; whether thou be the Son,
The rest was Prose.
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
Pyrrha for whom bind'st thou
In wreaths thy golden Hair,
Rough with black winds and storms
Unwonted shall admire :
Hopes thee; of flattering gales
Unmindfull. Hapless they
My dank and dropping weeds
[The Latin text follows.]
And wov'n close, both matter, form and stile ;
Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.
A title page is this! and some in file
End Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon,
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.
XII. On the same.
I did but prompt the age to quit their cloggs
By the known rules of antient libertie,
Of Owles and Cuckoes, Asses, Apes and Doggs.
Raild at Latona's twin-born progenie
But this is got by casting Pearl to Hoggs;
And still revolt when truth would set them free.
Licence they mean when they cry libertie;
But from that mark how far they roave we see
To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.
Harry whose tuneful and well measur'd Song
First taught our English Musick how to span
With Midas Ears, committing short and long;
With praise enough for Envy to look wan;
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.
Then his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing
9 send] lend Cambridge Autograph MS.
When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
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;
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Thy hand-maids, clad them o're with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest,
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
On the late Massacher in Piemont.
Avenge O Lord thy slaughter'd Saints, whose bones
Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold,
When all our Fathers worship’t Stocks and Stones,
Who were thy Sheep and in their antient Fold
Mother with Infant down the Rocks. Their moans
To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow
O're all th’Italian fields where still doth sway
A hunder'd-fold, who having learnt thy way
xiv. Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Religious Memory of Mrs. Catherine Thomson, my Christian Friend, deceased 16 Decemb. 1646.
E’re half my days, in this dark world and wide,
Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, least he returning chide,
I fondly ask; But patience to prevent
Either man's work or his own gifts, who best
Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State
And post o’re Land and Ocean without rest :
Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire,
Help wast a sullen day; what may be won
On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire
The Lillie and Rose, that neither sow'd nor spun.
Of Attick tast, with Wine, whence we may rise
To hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice
He who of those delights can judge, and spare
Of Brittish Themis, with no mean applause
Which others at their Barr so often wrench :
In mirth, that after no repenting drawes;