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To fetch him hence, and folemnly attend
His uncontrollable intent;
His fervants he with new acquist
Of true experience from this great event
THE EN D.
Compos'd at feveral times,
Mr. JOHN MILTON.
Cingite, ne vati noceat mala lingua futuro. Virgil, Eclog. 7.
To the first edition of the author's poems printed in 1645 was prefixed the following advertisement of The STATIONER to the READER.
T is not any private respect of gain, gentle Reader, for the flightest pamphlet is now adays more vendible than the works of learnedeft men; but it is the love I have to our own language, that hath made me diligent to collect and set forth fuch pieces both in profe and verfe, 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 applaufe of the learnedeft Academics, both domestic and foreign; and amongst thofe of our own country, the unparallel'd atteftation of that renowned Provost of Eton, Sir Henry Wotton. I know not thy palate how it relishes fuch daintics, nor how harmonious thy foul is; perhaps more trivial airs may please thee better. But howfoever thy opinion is fpent upon thefe, that encouragement I have already received from the most ingenious men in their clear and courteous entertainment of Mr. Waller's late choice pieces, hath once more made me adventure into the world, prefenting it with thefe ever-green, and not to be blafted laurels. The Author's more peculiar excellency in thefe ftudies was too well 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 fhall deferve of the age, by bringing into the light as true a birth, as the Mufes have brought forth fince our famous Spenfer wrote; whofe poems in these English ones are as rarely imitated, as sweetly excell'd. Reader, if thou art eagle-ey'd to cenfure their worth, I am not fearful to expose them to thy exacteft perufal. Thine to command, HUMPH, MOSELEY,
On the death of a fair Infant, dying of a cough,
Fairest flow'r no fooner blown but blasted, Soft filken primrose fading timeleЛly, Summer's chief honor, if thou hadft out-lafted Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry; For he being amorous on that lovely dye
That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kifs, But kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal blifs.
For fince grim Aquilo his charioteer
Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, [held.