But whether by mischance or blame
Atropos for Lucina came ;
And with remorseless cruelty
Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree :
The hapless babe before his birth
Had burial, yet not laid in earth,
And the languifh'd mother's womb
Was not long a living tomb.
So have I feen fome tender flip,
Sav'd with care from winter's nip,
The pride of her carnation train,
Pluck'd up by fome unheedy swain,
Who only thought to crop the flow'r
New fhot up from vernal fhow'r ;
But the fair bloffom hangs the head
Side-ways, as on a dying bed,
And thofe pearls of dew she wears,
Prove to be prefaging tears,
Which the fad morn had let fall
On her haft ning funeral.
Gentle Lady, may thy grave
Peace and quiet ever have ;
After this thy travel fore
Sweet reft feife thee evermore,
That to give the world increase,
Shortned haft thy own life's lease.
Here, befides the forrowing
That thy noble houfe doth bring,
Here be tears of perfect moan
Wept for thee in Helicon,
And fome flowers, and fome bays,
For thy herfe, to ftrow the ways,
Sent thee from the banks of Came,
Devoted to thy virtuous name;

Whilft thou, bright Saint, high fitst in glory,
Next her much like to thee in story,
That fair Syrian fhepherdefs,
Who after years of barrenness,
The highly favor'd Jofeph bore
To him that ferv'd for her before,
And at her next birth much like thee,
Through pangs fled to felicity,
Far within the bosom bright
Of blazing Majesty and Light :
There with thee, new welcome Saint,
Like fortunes may her foul acquaint,
With thee there clad in radiant sheen,
No Marchionefs, but now a Queen.

IX.

N

65

SONG, On MAY MORNING.

OW the bright morning ftar, day's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the eaft, and leads with

P

70

her

The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow cowflip, and the pale primrofe.
Hail bounteous May that doft infpire
Mirth and youth and warm defire;
Woods and groves are of thy dreffing,
Hill and dale doth boaft thy blefling.
Thus we falute thee with our early fong,
And welcome thee, and with thee long.

10

30

X.

On SHAKESPEAR. 1630.

W

HAT needs my Shakespear for his honor'd
The labor of an age in piled ftones, [bones
Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid
Under a star-ypointing pyramid ?

Dear fon of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'st thou fuch weak witness of thy name?
Thou in our wonder and astonishment
Haft built thyself a live-long monument.
For whilft to th' fhame of flow-endevoring art
Thy eafy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued book
Thofe Delphic lines with deep impression took,
Then thou our fancy of itself bereaving,
Doft make us marble with too much conceiving;
And fo fepulcher'd in fuch pomp doft lie,
That kings for fuch a tomb would wish to die.

15

XI.

10

On the University Carrier, who ficken'd in the time of his vacancy, being forbid to go to London, by reafon of the plague.

ERE lies old Hobfon; Death hath broke his

Or elfe the ways being foul, twenty to one,
He's here stuck in a flough, and overthrown.
"Twas such a shifter, that if truth were known, 5
Death was half glad when he had got him down;
For he had any time this ten years full,
Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.

And

And furely Death could never have prevail'd,
Had not his weekly course of carriage fail'd;
But lately finding him fo long at home,
And thinking now his journey's end was come,
And that he had ta'en up his latest inn,
In the kind office of a chamberlin

XII.

Another on the fame.

10

Show'd him his room where he must lodge that night,
Pull'd off his boots, and took away the light:
If any ask for him, it shall be said,
Hobfon has fupt, and's newly gone to bed.

H

ERE lieth one, who did most truly prove
That he could never die while he could move;
So hung his deftiny, never to rot
While he might still jogg on and keep his trot,
Made of sphere-metal, never to decay
Until his revolution was at ftay.
Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
'Gainft old truth) motion number'd out his time:
And like an engin mov'd with wheel and weight,
His principles being ceas'd, he ended strait.
Reft that gives all men life, gave him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath ;
Nor were it contradiction to affirm

10

15

Too long vacation haften'd on his term.
Merely to drive the time away he ficken'd,
Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quicken'd;
Nay, quoth he, on his fwooning bed out-ftretch'd,
If I mayn't carry, fure I'll ne'er be fetch'd,
But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers,
For one carrier put down to make fix bearers.
P 2

20

Eafe

Eafe was his chief difeafe, and to judge right,
He dy'd for heavinefs that his cart went light:
His leifure told him that his time was come,
And lack of load made his life burdenfome,
That even to his laft breath (there be that fay't) 25
As he were prefs'd to death, he cry'd more weight 3
But had his doings lafted as they were,
He had been an immortal carrier.
Obedient to the moon he spent his date
In courfe reciprocal, and had his fate
Link'd to the mutual flowing of the feas,
Yet (ftrange to think) his wain was his increase:
His letters are deliver'd all and gone,
Only remains this fuperfcription.

XIII.

L'ALLEGRO.

30

ENCE loathed Melancholy,

H

Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn

[holy,

'Mongft horrid fhapes, and shrieks, and fights unFind out fome uncouth cell,

5

Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings, And the night raven fings;

There under ebon shades, and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks,

In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell.
But come thou Goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrofyne,
And by men, heart-eafing Mirth,
Whom lovely Venus at a birth
With two fifter Graces more
To ivy-crowned Bacchus bore ;

10

15

"

Or