"About the hour that Cynthia's filver light
"Had touch'd the pale meridies of the night,"
At laft the various fupper being done,
It happen'd that the company was gone
Into a room remote, fervants and all,
To please their noble fancies with a ball.
Our hoft leads forth his ftranger, and does find
All fitted to the bounties of his mind.
Still on the table half-fill'd dishes stood,
And with delicious bits the floor was ftrow'd.
The courteous Moufe prefents him with the best,
And both with fat varieties are blefs'd:
Th' induftrious peafant ev'ry where does range,
And thanks the gods for his life's happy change.
Lo! in the midst of a well-freighted pie
They both at last, glutted and wanton lie:
When, fee the fad reverfe of profp'rous fate,
And what fierce ftorms on mortal glories wait;
With hideous noise down the rude fervants come,
Six dogs before run barking into the room;
The wretched gluttons fly with wild affright,
And hate the fulnefs which retards their flight.
Our trembling Peasant wishes now, in vain,
That rocks and mountains cover'd him again.
Oh how the change of his poor life he curs'd!
This of all lives faid he, is fure the worst.
Give me again, ye Gods! my cave and wood;
With peace, let tares and acorns be my food.

Doctiffimo, Graviffimoque Viro

DOMINO D. COMBER,

Decano Carleolenfi colendiffimo, et Collegii SS. et Individua Trinitatis Magiftro vigilantiffimo.

SISTE gradum : quónam temeraria pagina tendis,
Auratâ nimium facta fuperba togâ?
Subdita Virgifero te volvat turba Tyranno;
Et tamen, ah, nucibus ludere pluris erit.
I, pete follicitos quos tædia docta Scholarum,
Et Logica pugno carmina fcripta tenent.
Poft ea, vel Hip. Qualis? ne. vel, af. un. Quanta?
par. infin.

Deftruit Edictum, deftruit Ique modum.
Tum tu grata aderis, tum blandiùs ore fonabit;
Setonus, dicent, quid velit ifte fibi?

I, pete Caufidicos: poteris fic culta videri,
Et benè Romanis fundere verba modis.
Fallor: poft Ignoramum gens cautior illa eft;
Et didicit Mufas, Granta, timere tuas.
I, pete Lectorem nullum; fic falva latebis;
Et poteris Criticas fpernere tuta manus.
Limine ab hoc caveas: Procul ô, procul ito pro-
fana.

Diffimile hic Domini nil decet effe fuo.
Ille facri calamo referat myfteria verbi,
Non alia illius fanéta lucerna videt.
Talis in Altari trepidat Fax pæne timenda,
Et Flavum attolit fic veneranda caput.
At fcio, quid dices: Noftros Academia lufus
Spectavit; nugæ tum placuere meæ.
Pagina fulta nimis! Granta cft Hic altera folus;
Vel Grante ipfius non Caput, at Cerebrum.

Sed fi authore tuo, pergas, audacior, ire:
(Audacem quemvis candidus ille facit.)
Accedas tanquam ad numen formidine blanda
Triftis, et hæc illi paucula metra refer.
Sub veftro aufpicio natum bonus accipe carmen,
Viventi aufpicium quod fibi vellet idem.
Non peto ut ifta probes: tantùm, Puerilia, dicas,
Sunt, fateor; Puerum fed fatis illa decent.
Collegii nam qui noftri dedit ista Scholaris,
Si Socius, tandem fit, meliora dabit.

Inter Mufus Cantabrigienfes extant Carmina fequentia ab Auctore A. Cowley confcripta, quæ ne deperdantur dum in Chartulis latitant, bis adnectere vifum ef.

De felici partu Reginæ Mariæ.

Duм more antiquo jejunia festa coluntur,

UM

Et populum pafcit relligiofa fames;
Quinta beat noftrum foboles formofa Mariam ;
Penè iterum nobis, late December, ades.
Ite, quibus lufum Bacchúfque Ceréfque mini-
ftrant,

Et rifum vitis lachryma rubra movet.
Nos fine lætitiæ ftrepitu, fine murmure læti:
Ipfa dies novit vix fibi verba dari.

Cùm corda arcanâ faltant veftiva choreâ,
Cur pede vel tellus trita frequente fonet?
Quidve bibat Regi, quam perdit turba, falutem?
Sint mea pro tanto fobria vota viro.

Crede mihi, non funt, non funt ea gaudia vera,
Quæ fium pompâ gandia vera fuâ.
Vicifti tandem, vicifti, cafta Maria;
Cedit de fexu Carolus ipfe fuo.

A te fic vinci magnus quàm gaudeat ille!
Vix hoftes tanti vel fuperâffe fuit.
Jam tua plùs vivit pictura; at proxima fiet
Regis, et in methodo te perperiffe juvat.
O bona conjugii concors difcordia veftri!
O fancta hæc inter jurgia verus amor!
Non Caroli puro refpirans vultus in auro
Tam populo (et notum eft quàm placet ille) placet.
Da veniam, hîc omnes nimiùm quòd fimus avari;
Da veniam, hîc animos quòd fatiare nequis.
Cùmque (fed ô noftris fiat lux ferior annis)
In currum afcendas læta per aftra tuum,
Natorum in facie tua viva et mollis imago
Non minùs in terris quam tua fculpta, regat.

Ob pac ferum Sereniffimi Regis Caroli e Scotia reditum.
ERGO redis, multa frontem redimitus Oliva,
Captivæque ingens laurea pacis adeft.
Vicerunt alii bellis et Marte cruento;
Carole, Tu folus vincere belia potes.
Te fequitur volucri mitis Victoria penna,
Et Fama pennas prævenit ipfe fuæ.
Te voluere fequi couvulfis Orcades undis,
Sed retinent fixos frigora fæva pedes.
Te propè viderunt, o terris major Apollo,
Nafcentem, et Delo plus licuifle dolen.

Tanta decent Carolum rerum miracula? Tecum,
Si pelago redeas, Infula navis eat,

Si terra, veftri comitentur plauftra Bootæ ;
Sed rota tarda gelu, fed nimis ipfe piger.
Compofitam placidè jam lætus defpicit Arcton,
Horrentefqué novo lumine adornat equos.
Ah! nunquam rubeat civili fanguine Tueda,
Nec petat attonitum decolor unda mare!
Callifto in vetitum potiùs defcenderet æquor,
Quàm vellet tantum mæsta videre nefas.
Conveniffe feris inter fe noverat Urfis,
Et generi ingenium mitius effe fuo.

Nos gens una fumus; De Scoti nomine et Angli
Grammatici foli prælia rauca gerant.
Tam bene cognatos compefcit Carolus enfes,
Et pacem populis fundit ab ore fuis.
Hæc illi laudem virtus immenfa minorem
Eripuit: nunquam bella videre poteft.
Sic gladios folvit vaginis fulgur in ipfis;
Effectùque poteft vix priús ire fuo.
Sic vigil æterno regnator Phoebus Olympo
Circumfert fubitam, quà volat ipfe, diem.
Nil illi prodeft ftellarum exercitus ingens;
Ut poffit tenebras pellere, folus adeft.

To the Duke of Buckingham, upon bis marriage with the Lord Fairfax his daughter,

I.

BEAUTY and strength together came,
Ev'n from the birth, with Buckingham;
The little active feeds which fince are grown
So fair, fo large, and high,

With life itfelf were in him fown:

Honour and Wealth ftood like the midwives by, To take the birth into their happy hands,

And wrapt him warm in their rich fwaddling bands.

To the great stock the thriving infant foon
Made greater acquifitions of his own :
With beauty gen'rous goodness be combin'd,
Courage to ftrength, judgment to wit he join'd:
He pair'd and match'd his native virtues right,
Both to improve their use and their delight.

II.

O blefs'd conjunction of the fairest stars
That fhine in human nature's sphere!

But, O what envious cloud your influence bars!
Ill Fortune! what doft thou do there?
Hadft thou the least of modefty,

'Thou'dst be afham'd that we should fee

Thy deform'd looks, and drefs, in fuch a company.
'Thou wert deceiv'd, rash Goddess! in thy hate,
If thou didst foolishly believe

That thou couldft him of ought deprive
But, what men hold of thee, a great estate.
And here indeed thou to the full didft fhew
All that thy tyrant deity could do:
His virtues never did thy pow'r obey:
In diffipating forms and routed battles they
Did clofe and conftant with their captain stay;
They with him into exile went,
And kept their home in banishment.
The noble youth was often forc'd to flee
From the infatiate rage of thee,

Difguifed and unknown.

In all his fhapes they always kept their own;
Nay, with the foil of darkness brighter fhone,
And might unwillingly have done,

But that juft Heav'n thy wicked will abhorr'd, What virtues moft deteft, might have betray'd their Lord.

Ah! flothful Love! couldst thou with patience fee
Fortune ufurp that flow'ry fpring from thee,
And nip thy rofy season with a cold,

That comes too foon when life's fhort ear grows old:

Love his grofs error faw at last,

And promis'd large amends for what was paft;
He promis'd, and has done it, which is more
Than I, who knew him long, e'er knew him do
before.

He 'as done it nobly, and we must confefs
Could do no more, tho' he ought to do no less.
What has he done? he has repaid

The ruins which a lucklefs war did make :

And added to it a reward

Greater than Conqueft for its fhare could take : His whole eftate could not fuch gain produce, Had it lain out a hundred years at ufe.

For in the middle acts and turnings of the play,
Alas! we gave our hero up for loft,
All men I fee this with applaufe receive;
And now let me have leave,

A fervant of the perfon and the art,
To fpeak this prologue to the fecond part,

To the Duchefs of Buckingham.

Is I should say that in your face were feen
Nature's best picture of the Cyprian queen;
If I fhould fwear, under Minerva's name,
Poets (who prophets are) foretold your fame;
The future age would think it flattery,
But to the prefent, which can witness be,
"Twould feem beneath your high deferts as far
As you above the reft of women are.

When Manners' name with Villers' join'd I fee,
How I do rev'rence your nobility!
But when the virtues of your stock I view,
(Envy'd in your dead lord, admir'd in you)
I half adore them: for what woman can,
Befides yourself, (nay, I might say, what man)
By fex, and birth, and fate, and years, excel
In mind, in fame, in worth, in living well?
Oh how had this begot idolatry,
If you had liv'd in the world's infancy,
When man's too-much religion made the best
Or deities, or femi-gods at least ?
But we, forbidden this by piety,
Or if we were not, by your modefty,

Will make our hearts an altar, and there pray
Not to, but for, you; nor that England may
Enjoy your equal, when you once are gone,
But, what's more poilible, t' enjoy you long.

COME, Poetry and with you bring along
A rich and painted throng

Of nobleft words into my fong:
Into my numbers let them gently flow,
Soft and pure, and thick as fnow,
And turn thy numbers full to prove
Smooth as the fmootheft sphere above,
And like a sphere harmoniously move.

II.

Little doft thou, vain Song! thy fortune know, What thou art deftin'd to,}

To the Lord Falkland, for his fafe return from the northern expedition against the Scots.

GREAT is thy charge, O North! be wife and juft,
England commits her Falkland to thy truft:
Return him fafe: Learning would rather choose
Her Bodly or her Vatican to lose.

All things that are but writ or printed there,
In his unbounded breast engraven are :
There all the Sciences together meet,
And ev'ry art does all her kindred greet,
Yet joftle not, nor quarrel, but as well
Agree as in fome common principle.
So in an army, govern'd right, we fee
(Though out of fev'ral countries rais'd it be)
That all their order, and their place maintain,
The English, Dutch, the Frenchmen, and the Dane,
So thousand divers fpecies fill the air,
Yet neither crowd nor mix confus'dly there;
Beafts, houses, trees, and men together lie,
Yet enter undisturb'd into the eye.

And this great prince of knowledge is by Fate
Thrust into th' noife and bus'nefs of a state.
All virtues, and fome cuftoms, of the court,
Other men's labour are at least his fport.
Whilft we who can no action undertake,
Whom Idlenefs itself might learned make,
Who hear of nothing, and as yet scarce know
Whether the Scots in England be or no,
Pace dully on, oft' tire, and often stay,
Yet fee his nimble Pegasus fly away.
'Tis Nature's fault, who did thus partial grow,
And her cftate of wit on one bestow:
Whilft we, like younger brothers, get at best
But a small stock, and muft work out the rest.
How could he anfwer 't, fhould the ftate think fit
To question a monoply of wit?

Such is the man whom we require, the fame We lent the North, untouch'd as is his fame.. He is too good for war, and ought to be As far from danger, as from fear he's free. Those men alone (and thofe are useful too) Whofe valour is the only art they know, Were for fad war and bloody battles born; Let them the ftate defend, and he adorn.

To the Bifoop of Lincoln, upon his enlargement out of the Tower.

PARDON, my Lord! that I am come fo late
T'exprefs my joy for your return of Fate.
So when injurious Chance did you deprive
Of liberty, at firft I could not grieve;
My thoughts a while, like you, imprison'd lay;
Great joys, as well as forrows, make a stay ;
They hinder one another in the crowd,
And none are heard, whilft all would speak aloud.
Should ev'ry man's officious gladness hafte,
And be afraid to fhew itfelf the last,

The throng of gratulations now would be
Another lofs to you of liberty.

When of your freedon men the news did hear,
Where it was wifh'd for, that is every where,
'Twas like the speech which from your lips does
As foon as it was heard it ravish'd all. [fall,
So eloquent Tully did from exile come;
Thus long'd-for he return'd, and cherifh'd Rome,
Which could no more his tongue and counfels mifs:
Rome, the world's head! was nothing without his.
Wrong to this facred afhes I fhould do,
Should I compare any to him but you;
You to whom Art and Nature did difpenfe
The confulfhip of wit and eloquence.
Nor did your fate differ from his at all,
Because the doom of exile was his fall;
For the whole world without a native home,
Is nothing but a prif'n of larger room:
But like a melting woman fuffer'd he,
He, who before outdid humanity :

Nor could his fp'rit conftant and stedfast prove,
Whofe art it had been, and greatest end, to move.
You put ill Fortune in fo good a dress,
That it outfhone other men's happiness.
Had your profper'ty always clearly gone
As your high merits would have led it on,
You 'ad half been loft, and an example then
But for the happy, the least part of men.
Your very fuff'rings did fo graceful shew,
That some strait envy'd your affliction too :
For a clear confcience and heroic mind
In ills their buf'nefs and their glory find.
So though lefs worthy ftones are drown'd in night,
The faithful di'mond keeps his native light,
And is oblig'd to darkness for a ray

That would be more opprefs'd than help by day. Your foul then moft fhew'd her unconquer'd pow'r,

Was itronger and more armed than the Tow'r. Sure unkind Fate will tempt your sp'rit no more; She 'as try'd her weakness and your strength be fore.

T' oppofe him ftill who once has conquer'd so, Were now to be your rebel, not your foe. Fortune, henceforth, will more of Prov'dence have And rather be your friend than be your slave.

To a lady who made pofies for rings.

I.

I LITTLE thought the time would ever be That I should wit in dwarfish pofies fec.