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Sol troverete in tol parte men duro Ove Amor mise l'insanabil ago.
On his being arriv'd to the age of 23. How foon hath Time, the subtle 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 bloffom fhew'th. Perhaps my femblance might deceive the truth, 5 That I to manhood am arriv'd fo near,
And inward ripeness doth much less appear, That some more timely-happy spirits 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 HeaAll is, if I have grace to use it so, As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.
When the affault was intended to the City.
Whose chance on these defenfelefs doors may seise,
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,
Whatever clime the fun'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 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 those few art eminently seen, That labor up the hill of heav'nly truth, The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chosen thou haft; and they that overween, And at their 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. X.
To the Lady Margaret Ley. Daughter to that good Earl, once President Of England's Council, and her Treasury,
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
Kill'd with report that old man eloquent. Though later born than to have known the days Wherein father florifh'd, yet by you, your
Madam, methinks I see him living yet?
On the detraction which follow'd upon my writing certain treatifes.
A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,
And woven close, both matter, form and ftile; The fubject new: it walk'd the town a while, Numbering good intellects; now seldom por❜d on. Cries the stall-reader, Bless us! what a word on 5
A title page is this! and fome in file
Stand spelling falfe, while one might walk to MileEnd Green. Why is it harder Sirs than Gordon, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow fleek, That would have made Quintilian ftare and gasp. Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
Hated not learning worse than toad or asp,
I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs
When straight a barbarous noise environs me
Which after held the fun and moon in fee. But this is got by cafting pearl to hogs; That bawl for freedom in their fenfeless mood, g And ftill revolt when truth would fet them free. Licence they mean when they cry Liberty; For who loves that, must first be wife and good; But from that mark how far they rove we fee 'For all this wafte of wealth, and lofs of blood. XIII.
To Mr. H. LAWES on his Airs. Harry, whose tuneful and well-meafur'd fong First taught our English music how to span Words with juft note and accent, not to fcan With Midas ears, committing fhort and long; Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, With praise enough for envy to look wan; 6 To after age thou fhalt be writ the man, That with smooth air couldft humour beft our
Thou honor'st verse, and verse must lend her wing
Than his Cafella, whom he woo'd to fing
On the religious memory of Mrs. CATHARINE THOMSON, 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 resign 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 best Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, 11 And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest And drink thy fill of pure immortal ftreams.