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Giovane piano, e femplicetto amante
Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono,
Madonna á voi del mio cuor l'humil dono
Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante
L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, coftante,
De penfieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono ; Quando rugge il gran mondo, e fcocca il tuono, S'arma di fe, e d'intero diamante, Tanto del forfe, e d' invidia ficuro,
Di timori, e fperanze al popol use
Quanto d'ingegno, e d' alto valor vago,
E di cetra fonora, e delle mufe :
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
Ove Amor mise l'infanabil ago.
On his being arriv'd to the
How foon hath Time, the fubtle thief of youth,
Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hafting days fly on with full carreer,
But my late fpring no bud or blossom fhew'th.
Perhaps my femblance might deceive the truth, 5
That I to manhood am arriv'd so near,
And inward ripenefs doth much lefs appear,
That fome more timely-happy fpirits indu'th.
Yet be it lefs or more, or foon or flow,
It fhall be ftill in ftricteft measure even
To that fame lot, however mean or high,
Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven
All is, if I have grace to ufe it fo,
As ever in my great Talk-Mafter's eye.
When the affatilt was intended to the City.
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in arms,
Whofe chance on these defenfeless doors may feife,
If deed of honor did thee ever please,
Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee, for he knows the charms That call fame on fuch gentle acts as these, And he can spread thy name o'er lands and feas, Whatever clime the fun's bright circle warms. Lift not thy fpear against the Muses bow'r :
The great Emathian conqueror bid spare The house of Pindarus, when temple' and tow'r Went to the ground: And the repeated air Of fad Electra's poet had the pow'r To fave th' Athenian walls from ruin bare.
To a virtuous young Lady.
Lady that in the prime of earliest youth
Wifely haft fhunn'd the broad way and the green, And with thofe few art eminently feen, That labor up the hill of heav'nly truth, The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chofen thou haft; and they that overween, And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, No anger find in thee, but pity' and ruth. Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends
To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, 10 And hope that reaps not fhame. Therefore be fure Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends Paffes to blifs at the mid hour of night, Haft gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wife and pure.
To the Lady Margaret Ley.
Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council, and her Treafury,
Who liv'd in both, unftain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till fad the breaking of that Parlament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Charonea, fatal to liberty,
Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.
Though later born than to have known the days
Wherein father florifh'd, yet by you,
Madam, methinks I fee him living yet;
So well your words his noble virtues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to poffefs them, honor'd Margaret.
On the detraction which followed upon my writing certain treatifes.
A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,
And woven close, both matter, form and file;
The fubject new: it walk'd the town a while,
Numb'ring good intellects; now feldom por`d on,
Cries the ftall-reader, Blefs us! what a word on`s
A title page is this! and fome in file
Stand spelling false, while one might walk to MileEnd Green. Why is it harder Sirs than Gordon, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galafp?
Thofe rugged names to our like mouths grow fleek,
That would have made Quintilian ftare and gafp.
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
Hated not learning worfe than toad or afp, [Greek,
When thou taught it Cambridge, and kingEdward
On the fame.
I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs
By the known rules of ancient liberty,
When ftrait a barbarous noise environs me
Of owls and cuccoos, affes, apes and dogs:
As when thofe hinds that were transform'd to frog's
Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,
Which after held the fun and moon in fee.
But this is got by cafting pearl to hogs;
That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood,
And still revolt when truth would fet them free. 10
Licence they mean when they cry Liberty;
For who loves that, must first be wife and good;
Bnt from that mark how far they rove we fee
For all this waste of wealth, and lofs of blood.
To Mr. H. LAWES on his Airs.
Harry, whofe tuneful and well meafur'd fong
First taught our English music how to span
Words with just note and accent, not to scan
With Midas ears, committing fhort and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, s
With praise enough for envy to look wan;
To after age thou shalt be writ the man, [tongue. That with fmooth air could'ft humour beft our Thou honor'ft verfe, and verfe muft lend her wing To honor thee, the priest of Phoebus quire, That tun'ft their happiest lines in hymn, or story. Dante shall give fame leave to fet thee higher Than his Cafella, whom he woo'd to fing Met in the milder fhades of purgatory.
On the religious memory of Mrs. Catharine Thomfon, my chriftian friend, deceas'd 16 Decem, 1646.
When faith and love, which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy juft foul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst refign this earthly load
Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth fever.
Thy works and alms and all thy good endevor 5
Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod;
But as faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and blifs for ever.
Love led them on, and faith who knew them beft
Thy hand-maids,clad them o'er with purple beams
And azure wings, that up they flew fo dreft, 11
And fpake the truth of thee on glorious themes
Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams,
To the Lord General FAIRFAX,
Fairfax, whofe name in arms through Europe rings,
Filling each mouth with envy or with praife,
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze
And rumors loud, that daunt remotest kings,
Thy firm unfhaken virtue ever brings
Victory home, though new rebellions raise
Their Hydra heads, and the falfe North displays
Her broken league to imp their ferpent wings.
O yet a nobler tafk awaits thy hand,
(For what can war, but endless war still breed?)
Till truth and right from violence be freed,