THE WAITING-MAID.

BY ABRAHAM COWLEY, ESQ.*

THY Maid? Ah, find some nobler theme,
Whereon thy doubts to place;
Nor, by a low fufpect, blafpheme
The glories of thy face.

Alas, the makes thee shine so fair,

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So exquifitely bright,

That her dim lamp must disappear

Before thy potent light.

Three hours each morn in dreffing thee,

Maliciously are spent ;

And make that beauty tyranny,

That's else a civil-government,

Th' adorning thee with fo much art

Is but a barb❜rous skill;

'Tis like the pois'ning of a dart,

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Too apt before to kill.

✦ Born 1618; dyed 1667.

The miniftring angels none can fee;

"Tis not their beauty or face,

For which by men they worship'd be;

But their high office, and their place. 20 Thou art my goddess; my faint, she;

I pray to her, only to pray to thee.

THE EPICURE.

[FROM ANACREON.}

BY THE SAME.

UNDER

NDERNEATH this myrtle shade,

On flow'ry beds fupinely laid,

With od❜rous oyls my head o'erflowing,

And around it roses growing,

What should I do but drink away

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The heat, and troubles of the day?

In this more than kingly state,
Love himself shall on me wait.
Fill to me, Love; nay, fill it up;
And mingled caft into the cup
Wit, and mirth, and noble fires,

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.

The wheel of life no lefs will stay
In a smooth, than rugged way:
Since it equally doth fly,

Let the motion pleasant be.

Why do we precious ointments fhow'r,
Nobler wines why do we pour,
Beauteous flowers why do we spread,
Upon the mon❜ments of the dead? .
Nothing they but duft can show,
Or bones that haften to be fo.
Crown me with rofes whilft I live,

Now your wines and ointments give:
After death I nothing crave,
Let me alive my pleasures have,
All are ftoicks in the grave,

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20

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}"

CLAUDIANS OLD MAN OF VERONA.

BY THE SAME.

HAPPY the man, who his whole time doth bound,

Within th' enclosure of his little ground.

Happy the man, whom the same humble place, (Th' hereditary cottage of his race)

From his firft rifing infancy has known,

And by degrees fees gently bending down
With natural propenfion to that earth,

Which both preferv'd his life, and gave him birth.
Him no false distant lights, by Fortune fet,
Could ever into foolish wandrings get.

He never dangers either faw or fear'd:
The dreadful ftorms at fea he never heard.
He never heard the fhrill alarms of war,
Or the worse noises of the lawyers bar.
No change of confuls marks to him the year, 15
The change of seasons is his calendar.

The cold and heat winter and summer shows,
Autumn by fruits, and spring by flow'rs, he knows.
He measures time by land-marks, and has found
For the whole day the dial of his ground.
A neighb'ring wood born with himself he fees,
And loves his old contemporary trees.

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H' as only heard of near Verona's name,

And knows it like the Indies, but by fame,

Does with a like concernment notice take

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Of the Red-fea, and of Benacus lake.

Thus health and strength he to a third age enjoys, And fees a long pofterity of boys.

About the fpacious world let others roam,

The voyage life is longeft made at home.

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PRAYER.

[ FROM HIS OWN LATIN. ]

BY THE SAME.

For the few hours of life allotted me,

Give me (great God) but bread and liberty;
I'll beg no more: if more thou'rt pleas'd to give,
I'll thankfully that overplus receive:

If beyond this no more be freely fent,

I'll thank for this, and go away content.

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