The nort Quantity and Quality spake in prose; the
Relation was called by his name.
RIVERS, arise; whether thou be the son
Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulfy Dun,
Or Trent, who, like some earth-born giant, sprea
His thirsty arms along the indented meads;
Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath;
Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death;
Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee,
Or Coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee;
Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name
Or Medway smooth, or royal-tower'd Thame.
On the admirable Dramatic Poet, William
Shakspeare.
WHAT needs my Shakspeare for his hono
The labour of an age in piled stones ?
Or that his hallow'd relics should be hid
Vnder a starry-pointing pyramid ?
Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou such weak witness of thy na
Thou, in our wonder and astonishment,
Hast built thyself a livelong monument.
For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavou
Thy easy numbers flow; and that each heart
Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book,
Those Delphic lines with deep impression too
Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving,
Dost make us marble with too much conceivi:
And, so sepulchred, in such pomp dost lie,
That kings, for such a tomb. would wish to
ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER,
sickened in the Time of his Vacancy; being rbid to go to London, by reason of the Plague. RE lies old Hobson; death hath broke his girt, I here, alas! hath laid him in the dirt; else the ways being foul, twenty to one, s here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. was such a shifter, that, if truth were known, th was half-glad when he had got him down: he had, any time this ten years full, ag'd with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull. 1 surely Death could never have prevail'd, I not his weekly course of carriage fail'd; lately finding him so long at home, 1 thinking now his journey's end was come, I that he had ta'en up his latest inn, he kind office of a chamberlain,
v'd him his room where he must lodge that night,
1 off his boots, and took away the light: ask for him, it shall be said,
son has supt, and 's newly gone to bed."
lieth one, who did most truly prove
e could never die while he could move;
g his destiny, never to rot
he might still jog on and keep his trot;
f sphere metal, never to decay
is revolution was at stay.
umbers motion, yet (without a crime
old truth) motion number'd out his time:
ke an engine mov'd with wheel and weight,
ciples being ceas'd, he ended straight.
hat gives all men life, gave him his death,
much breathing put him out of breath;
Nor were it contradiction to affirm,
Too long vacation basted on his term.
Merely to drive the time away he sicken'd,
Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quicken'd
"Nay," quoth he, on his swooning bed outstretch'd.
"If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetch'd,
But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers,
For one carrier put down to make six bearers."
Ease was his chief disease; and to judge right,
He died for heaviness that his cart went light:
His leisure told him that his time was come,
And lack of load made his life burdensome,
That even to his last breath, (there be that say't,)
As he were press'd to death, he cried, " More
But had his doings lasted as they were,
He had been an immortal carrier.
Obedient to the moon, he spent his date
In course reciprocal, and had his fate
Link'd to the mutual flowing of the seas,
Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase;
His letters are deliver'd all and gone,
Only remains this superscription.
ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE,
Under the Long Parliament.
BECAUSE you have thrown off your prelate lord,
And with stiff vows renounc'd his Liturgy,
To seize the widow'd whore Plurality
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd;
Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword
To force our consciences that Christ set free,
And ride us with a classic hierarchy
Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford ?
Men, whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent,
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,
Must now be nam'd and printed heretics,
By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye cali = But we do hope to find out all your tricks, Your plots and packing worse than those of
That so the Parliament May, with their wholesome and preventive shears, Cup your phylacteries, though balk your ears,
And succour our just fears When they shall read this clearly in your charge, New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large.
THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE, LIP. I,
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 enjoys thee credulous, all gold,
Who always vacant, always amiable,
Hopes thee, of flattering gales
Unmindful Hapless they,
To whom thou untried seem'st fair! Me, in my
Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung
My dank and drooping weeds
To the stern god of sea.
• FROM GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH.
Brutus thus addresses Diana in the Country of Leogecia.
GODDESS of shades, and huntress, who at will Walk'st on the rolling spheres, and through th
deep; On thy third reign, the earth, look now, and tell What land, what seat of rest, thou bidd'st me seek. What certain seat, where I may worship thee For aye, with temples vow'd and virgin quires.
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