Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia
Quel sereno fulgor d'amabil nero,
Parole adorne di lingua piu d'una,
E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemispero
Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna,

E degli occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoco
Che l'incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco.

V.

PER certo i bei vostr' occhi, Donna mia
Esser non puo che non sian lo mio sole
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole
Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,

Mentre un caldo vapor (ne sentì pria)
Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole,
Che forse amanti nelle lor parole
Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia :
Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela

Scoffo mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco
Quivi d' attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela;
Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco
Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose
Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose.

VI.

GIOVANE piano, e simplicetto amante

Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono,

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Madonna a voi del mio cuor l'humil dono

Faro divoto; io certo a prove tante

L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante,
De pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono;
Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono,
S'arma di se, e d' intero diamante,

Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro,
Di timori, e speranze al popol use
Quanto d'ingegno, e d'alto valor vago,
E di cetta sonora, e delle muse:
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
Ove Amor mise l'insanabil ago.

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VII. ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO THE AGE
OF TWENTY-THREE.

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three and twentieth year!
My hasting days fly on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom show'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, 5
That I to manhood am arriv'd so near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits indu'th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,

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It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of HeaAll is, if I have grace to use it so, As ever in my great task-master's eye.

[ven;

VIII. WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED

TO THE CITY.

CAPTAIN or Colonel, or Knight in arms,

Whose chance on these defenceless doors may If deed of honour did thee ever please, [cease, Guard them, and him within protect from harms.

5

He can requite thee, for he knows the charms
That call fame on such gentle acts as these,
And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas,
Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms.
Lift not thy spear 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 sad Electra's poet had the pow'r
To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.

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IX. TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY.

LADY, that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the hill of heavenly truth,

The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chosen thou hast; 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

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To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, 10 And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,

Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.

Χ. ΤΟ THE LADY MARGARET LEY.

DAUGHTER to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,

Till sad the breaking of that Parliament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,

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Kill'd with report that old man eloquent. Though later born than to have known the days Wherein your father flourish'd, yet by you, Madam, methinks I see him living yet; So well your words his noble virtues praise, That all both judge you to relate them true, And to possess them, honour'd Margaret.

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XI. ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES.*

A BOOK was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,
And woven close, both matter, form, and style;
The subject new: it walk'd the town a while,
Numb'ring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.
Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on 5
A title-page is this! and some in file
Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile-
End Green. Why is it harder, Sirs, than Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?

Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek,

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