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Unto thy constant love, to which 'tis paid :
And on his love he rais'd his dying head: I strait will meet thee in the pleasant shade Where, striving long for breath, at last, said he, Of cool Elysium ; where we, being met,
“ Thisbe, I am hasting to the dead, Shall taste those joys that here we could not get.” And cannot heal that wound my fear hath bred :
Farewell, sweet Thisbe! we must parted be, Then through his breast thrusting his sword, life hies From him, and he makes haste to seek bis fair:
For angry Death will force me soon from thee.” And as upon the colour'd ground he lies,
Life did from him, he from his mistress, part, His blood had dropt upon the mulberries ;
Leaving his love to languish here in woe. With which th' unspotted berries stained were, What shall she do? How shall she ease her heart?
And ever since with red they colour'd are, Or with what language speak her inward smart? At last fair Thisbe left the den, for fear
Usurping passion reason doth o'erflow,
She vows that with her Pyramus she 'll go : Of disappointing Pyramus, since she Was bound by promise for to meet him there : Then takes the sword wherewith her love was slain, But when she saw the berries changed were
With Pyramus's crimson blood warm still; From white to black, she knew not certainly And said, “Oh stay, blest soul, awhile refrain, It was the place where they agreed to be.
That we may go together, and remain With what delight from the dark cave she came,
In endless joys, and never fear the ill Thinking to tell how she escap'd the beast!
Of grudging friends !”—Then she herself did kill. But, when she saw her Pyramus lie slain,
To tell what grief their parents did sustain, Ah! how perplex'd did her sad soul remain ! Were more than my rude quill can overcome ;
She tears her golden hair, and beats her breast, Much did they weep and grieve, but all in vain, And every sign of raging grief exprest.
For weeping calls not back the dead again. She blames all-powerful Jove ; and strives to take
Both in one grave were laid, when life was done; His bleeding body from the moisten'd ground.
And these few words were writ upon the tomb: She kisses his pale face, till she doth make It red with kissing, and then seeks to wake
ÈPITAPH. His parting soul with mournful words; his wound | UNDERNEATH this marble stone, Washes with tears, that her sweet speech con
Lie two beauties join'd in one. found.
Two, whose loves deaths could not sever; But afterwards, recovering breath, said she,
For both liv'd, both dy'd together. “ Alas! what chance hath parted thee and I ? O tell what evil hath befall’n to thee,
Two, wbuse souls, being too divine
For earth, in their own sphere now shine,
And their earth to earth again.
S Y L V A:
DIVERS COPIES OF VERSES,
MADE UPON SUNDRY OCCASIONS.
DE FELICI PARTU REGINÆ MARIÆ.? A te sic vinci magnus quàm gau leat ille!
Vix hostes tanti vel superâsse fuit.
Jam tua plus vivit pictura; at proxima fiet Quinta beat nostram soboles formosa Mariam :
Regis, et in methodo te peperisse juvat. Pere iterum nobis, læte December, ades.
O bona conjugii concors discordia vestri !
O sancta hæc inter jurgia vetus amor!
Tam populo (et notum est quàm placet ille) Ipsa dies novit vix sibi verba dari.
avari ; Cum corda arcanâ saltant festiva choreâ,
Da veniam, hic omnes nimium quòd sim Cur perle vel tellus trita frequente sonet ?
Da veniam, hic animos quòd satiare nequis. Quidve bibat Regi, quam perdit turba, salutem ?
Cúmque (sed ô nostris fiat lux serior annis)
In currum ascendas læta per astra tuum,
Natorum in facie tua viva et mollis imago
Non minus in terris, quàm tua sculpta, regat. Quæ fiunt pompå gaudia vera sua. Vicisti tandem, vicisti, casta Maria;
AbrahamUS COWLEY, T[rin). C[oll]. Cedit de sexu Carolus ipse suo.
7 From the EYNDAIA, sive Musarum Cantabrigiensium Consentus et Congratulatio, ad serenissimum Britanniarum Regem Carolum, de quinta sua sobole (Princess Anne), clarissima Principe, sibi nuper felicissimmè nata. Cantabrigiæ, 1637. I doubt not but it will prove a pleasing amuseinent to the curious reader, to trace the first dawnings of genins in some of our first-rate poetic characters; and to compare thein with the eminence they afterwards attained to, and the rank they at last held among their brethren of the laurel. Some early specimens of Dryden's genius may be seen in the first volume of his poems. Those of Cowley, here printed, abound with strokes of wit, some true, but the far greater part false ; which thoroughly characterise the writer, and may be justly pronounced to point out his genius and manner, in miniature. K.-This species of entertainment the kind attention of Mr. Kynaston (the friend to whom I owe these remarks) enabl-s me considerably to extend, by furnishing the earliest poetical productions of some writers who are now universally looked up to as excellent; none of which are to be found in any edition of their respective works. In such juvenile performances, it is well observed by an admirable critic, “the absurd conceits and extravagant fancies are the true seeds and germs, which afterwards ripen, by proper culture, into the most luxuriant harvests.” See Annual Register, 1779, p. 130. J. N.
IN FELICISSULAM REGINE MARIE, Leave off then, London, to accuse the starres
For adding a worse terrour to the warres;
Nor quarrel with the lleavens, 'cause they beginne Naturæ faciés renovatur quolibet anno,
To send the worst effect and scorge of sinne, Et sese mirùm fertilis ipsa parit.
That dreadfull plague, which wheresoe're't abide, Sic quoque Naturæ exemplar Regina, decusque, Devours both man and each disease beside. In fætu toties se videt ipsa novam,
For every life which from great Charles does flow, Penè omnem signas tam sæpè puerpera mensem, And 's female self, weighs down a crowd of low Et cupit à partu nomen babere tuo.
And vulgar souls : Fate rids of them the Earth, Quæque tuos toties audit Lucina labores,
To make more room for a great prince's birth. Vix ipsa in proprio sæpiùs Orbe tumet.
So when the Sunne, after his watrie rest, Fæcundam semper spectabis Jane, Mariam, Comes dancing from his chamber of the east, Sive hâc sive illâ fronte videre voles.
A thousand pettie lamps, spread ore the skie, Discite, subjecti, officium : Regina Marito Shrink in their doubtfull beams, then wink, and die: Anua jam toties ipsa tributa dedit.
Yet no man grieves; the very birds arise, Dum redit à sanctis non fessus Carolus aris,
And sing glad notes in stead of elegies : Principis occurit nuntia fama novi.
The leaves and painted flowers, which did erewhile Non mirum, existat cùm proximus ipse Tonanti,
Tremble with mournfull drops, beginne to smile.
The losse of many why should they bemone,
Who for them more than many have in one?
How blest must thou thy self, bright Mary, be, Factura ô longùm nobis jejunia frstum !
Who by thy wombe can'st blesse our miserie? O magnas epulas exhibitura fames !
May 't still be fruitful! May your offspring too En fundunt gemitum et lacrymarum flumina; tur- Spread largely, as your fame and virtues do !
Fill Cum Reginâ ipsam parturiisse putes. [bam
every season thus: Time, which devours Credibile est puerum populi sensisse dolores;
It's own sonnes, will be glad and proud of yours. Edidit hinc mastos flebilis ipse sonos.
So will the year (though sure it weari'd be
With often revolutions) when 't shall see
Joy to return into it self again.
A. Cowley, A. B. T[rin). C[oll}, UPON THE HAPPIE BIRTH OF THE
LORD CARLETON, VISCOUNT DORCHESTER, LATE The sererall shires their various forces lend,
PRINCIPAL SECRETARY OF STATE.
Of all the fiends, to the black Stygian hall;
Of their accursed meeting, thither caine. When a new sonne doth his blest stock adom, Revenge, whose greedy mind no blood can fill, Then to great Charles is a new armie born.
And Envy, never satisfy'd with ill: In private births lopes challenge the first place: Thither blind Boldness, and impatient Rage, There's certaintie at first in the king's race ; Resorted, with Death's neighbour, envious Age. And we may say, Such will his glories be,
These, to oppress the Farth, the Furies sent': Such bis great acts, and, yet not prophesie. The counc:l thus dissolv’d, an angry Fever, I see in him bis father's boundlesse sprite,
Whose quenchless thirst by blood was sated never, Powerfullas flame, yet gentle as the light.
Envying the riches, honour, greatness, love, I see him through an adverse battle thrust, And virtue (load-stone, that all these did move) Bedeck'd with noble sweat and comely dust. Of noble Carleton, him she took away, I see the pietie of the day appeare,
And, like a greedy vulture, seiz'd her prey. Joyo'd with the heate and valour of the yeare, Weep with me, each who either reads or hears, Which happie Fate did to this birth allow : And know his loss deserves his country's tears! I see all this; for sure’tis present now.
The Muses lost a patron by his fate,
Virtue a husband, and a prop the State. • From the Voces Votivæ ab Academicis Can- Sol's chorus weeps, and, to adorn his hearse, tabrigiensibus pro novissimo Caroli et Mariæ Prin- Calliope would sing a tragic verse. sipe Filio, emissæ. Cantabrigiæ, 1640.
And, had there been before no spring of theirs, 9 Henry, who was declared by his father duke of They would have made a Helicon with tears. Gloucester in 1641, but not so created till May 13,
ABR. COWLEY. 1659. He died September 13, 1660.-The Verses are taken from the Yoces Votivæ, &c. 1640. * Something is here wanting, as appears from J. N.
the want both of rhyme and connection. J. N.
ON THE DEATH OP THE RIGHT HONOURABLE DUDLEY
Distilling honey; here doth nectar pass,
With copious current, through the verdant grass : ON THE DEATH OF MY LOVING FRIEND AND COUSIX
Here Hyacinth, his fate writ in his looks,
Once lovely boys! and Acis, now a fower,
Are nourish'd with that rarer herb, whose power It was deerred by stedfast Destiny
Created thee, War's potent god! here grows (The work from chaos turn') that all should die, The spotless lily and the blushing rose; He sho durst fearless pass black Acheron,
And all those divers ornaments abound, And dangers of th' infernal region,
That variously inay paint the gaudy groand. leading Hell's triple porter captirate,
No willow, Sorrow's garland, there hath room, Was overcome hinself by conquering Fate.
Nor cypress, sad attendant of a tomb. The Roman Tully's pleasing eloquence,
None but Apollo's tree, and th’ivy twine Which in the cars did lock up every sense
Embracing the stout vak, the fruitful vine, Of the mapt hearer; bis mellifluons breath
And trees with golden apples loaded down, Could not at all charm unreinorseless Death;
On whose fair tops sweet Philomel alone, Nor Solon, so hy Greece admir'd, could save
Unmindful of her former misery, Himself, with all his wisdom, from the grave.
Tunes with her voice a ravishing harmony; Stern Fate brought Maro to his funeral tlaine, Whilst all the murmuring brooks that glide along, And would bave ended in that fire his faine;
Miake up a burthen to her pleasing song. Burning those lofty lines, which now shall be No screech-owl, sad companion of the night; Time's conquerors, and out-last eternity.
No hideous raven with prodigions flight, Even so lov'd Clarke from death no’scape could find, Presaging future ill; nor, Progne, thee, Though arm’d with great Alcides' valiant mind. Yet spotted with young Itis' tragedy, He was adorn'd, in years though far more young,
Those sacred bowers receive. There's nothing there With learn'd Cicero's, or a sweeter tongue.
That is not pure; all innocent and rare, And, could dead (irgil hear his lofty strain,
Turning my greedy sight another way, He would condemn his own to fire again.
Under a ruw of storm contemning bay, His youth a Solon's wisdom did presage,
I saw the Thracian singer with his lyre Had envious Time but givin him Solou's age.
Teach the deaf stones to hear him and admire. Who would not therefore now, if Learning's friend, Him the whole poets' chorus compass'd round, Bewail his fatal and untimely end ?
All whom the oak, all whom the laurel crown'd. Who hath such hard, such unrelenting eyes,
There banisb’d Ovid had a lasting home,
Better than thou could'st give, ungrateful Rome! As not to weep when so much virtue dies? The god of poets doth in darkness shrowd
And Lucan (spite of Nero) in each vein His glorious face, and weeps behind a cloud. Had every drop of his spilt blood again: The dolefiu Muses thinking now to write
Homer, Sol's first-born, was not poor or blind, Sad elegics, their tears confound their sight:
But saw as well in body as in mind. But bin t'Elysium's lasting joys they bring,
Tully, grave Cato, Solon, and the rest
Of Greece's admir'd wise-men, bere possest
By these the valiant heroes take their place;
For Virtue's cause. Great Alexander there Pyebus, expelld by the approaching night, Laughs at the Farth's small empire, and did wear Blush'd, and for shame clos'din his bashful light, A nobler crown than the whole world could give: While I, with leaden Morpheus overcome,
There did Horatius, Cocles, Sceva, live, The Muse whom I adore enter'd the room :
And valiant Decius; who now freely cease Her hair with looser curiosity
From war, and purchase an eternal peace. Did on her comely back dishevellid lie:
Next them, beneath a myrtle bower, where dores Her eyes with such attractive beauty shone, And gall-less pigeons build their nests, all Love's As might have wak'd sleeping Endymion.
True faithful servants, with an amorous kiss She bade me rise, and promis'd I should see And soft embrace, enjoy their grcediest wish, Those fields, those mansions of felicity,
Leander with his beauteous Hero plays, We mortals so admire at: speaking thus,
Nor are they parted with dividing seas: She lifts me up upon wing'd Pegasus,
Porcia enjoys her Brutus ; Death no more On whom I rid; knowing, wherever she
Can now divorce their wedding, as before: Did go, that place must needs a temple be.
Thisbe her Pyramus kiss'd, his Thisbe he No sooner was my flying courser come
Embrac'd, each bless'd with t'other's company: To the blest dwellings of Elysium,
And every couple, always dancing, sing
How near to evening is Delight's short day!
Strait crowd ; and all these vanish'd from my sight: How many objects charın my wandering eye, My very Muse herself forsook me too. And bid my soul gaze there etrrnally!
Me grief and wonder wak'd : what should I do? Here in full streams, Baichus, thy liquor flows, Oh ! let me follow thee (said I) and go Nor knows to ebb; here Jove's broad trec bestows From life, that I may dream for ever so.
RETURN OUT OF SCOTLAND.
With that my flying Muse I thought to clasp Yet he returns, and with his light
Expels what he hath caus'd--the night.
Yet his new-birth will soon restore
What its departure took before.
What though we miss'd our absent king GREAT Charles !—there stop, ye trumpeters of And with his presence makes us know
Awhile ? great Charles is come again; Fame !
The gratitude to Heaven we owe. For he who speaks his titles, his great name,
So doth a cruel storm impart Must have a breathing time our king :-stay there ;
And teach us Palinurus' art: Speak by degrees ; let the inquisitive ear
So from salt floods, wept by our eyes,
A joyful Venus doth arise.
I durst not but in secret murmurs pray ; From the three Sisters' weeping bark a tear:
To whisper in Jove's ear Let spotted lynxes their sharp talons fill
How much I wish that funeral, With crystal, fetch'd from the Promethean hill :
Or gape at such a great one's fall; Let Cytherea's birds fresh wreaths compose,
This let all ages hear, Knitting the pale-fac'd lily with the rose:
And future times in my soul's picture see
What I abhor, what I desire to be.
Can preach two hours, and yet his sermon be
But half a quarter long; Each wall, each pillar, gratulations bear: Though, from his old mechanic trade, And yet, let no man invocate a Muse;
By vision he's a pastor made, The very matter will itself infuse
His faith was grown so strong> A sacred fury: let the merry bells
Nay, though he think to gain salvation (For unknown joys work unknown miracles) By calling th' pope the Whore of Babylon. Ring without help of sexton, and presage
I would not be a school-master, though he A new-made holy-day for future age!
His rods no less than fasces deems to be ; And, if the ancients us'd to dedicate
Though he in many a place A golden temple to propitious Fate,
Turns Lilly oftener than his gowns, At the return of any noble men,
Till at the last he make the nouns. Of heroes, or of emperors, we must then
Fight with the verbs apace; Raise up a double trophy; for their fame
Nay, though he can, in a poetic heat,
Figures, born since, out of poor Virgil beat.
I would not be justice of peace, though he
Can with equality divide the fee, Snatch'd from Bellona's hand; him Luxury
And stakes with his clerk draw; In peace debilitates : whose tongue can win
Nay, though he sits upon the place Tully's own garland, Pride to him creeps in.
Of judgment, with a learned face On whom (like Atlas' shoulders) the propt state
Intricate as the law; (As he were primum mobile of Fate)
And, whilst he mulcts enormities demurely, Solely relies ; him blind Ambition moves ;
Breaks Priscian's head with sentences securely. His tyranny the bridled subject proves.
I would not be a courtier, though he But all those virtues which they all possest Makes his whole life the truest comedy, Divided, are collected in thy breast,
Although he be a man Great Charles ! Let Cæsar boast Pharsalia's fight, In whom the taylor's forming art, Honorius praise the Parthian's unfeign'd fight : And nimble barber, claim more part Let Alexander call himself Jove's peer,
Than Nature herself can;
Though, as he uses men, 'tis his intent
From lawyer's tongues, though they can spin with
The shortest cause into a paraphrase; Who is most near, most like, the Deity,
(case From usurers' conscience
(For swallowing up young heirs so fast, SONG,
Without all doubt, they'll choak at last)
Make me all innocence, Hence, clouded looks; hence, briny tears,
Good Heaven ! and from thy eyes, O Justice ! keep; Hence eye that Sorrow's livery wears !
For though they be not blind, they're oft asleep. What though awhile Apollo please
From singing-mens' religion, who are To visit the Antipodes?
Always at church, just like the crows, 'cause there
ON THE SAME.