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Nay, and, if from a deity
Some do but their youth allow me,
Had I the power of creation, As I have of generation, Where I the matter must obey, And cannot work plate out of clay, My creatures should be all like thee, "Tis thou shouldst their idea be : They, like thee, should thoroughly hate Business, honour, title, state; Other wealth they should not know, But what my living mines bestow; The pomp of kings, they should confess, At their crownings, to be less Than a lover's humblest guise, When at his mistress' feet he lies. Rumour they no more should mind Than men safe landed do the wind; Wisdom itself they should not hear, When it presumes to be severe; Beauty alone they should admire, Nor look at Fortune's vain attire,
| Nor ask what parents it can shew;
Till my Anacreon by thee fell,
It grieves me when I see what fate
TAKEN OUT OF A GREEK ODE, WRITTEN BY MR.
MASTERS, OF NEW-COLLEGE IN OXFORD.
Exough, my Muse! of earthly things,
Of the great crucified King.
Till Earth thou joinest with the skies!
To be half seen by mortal eye!
How shall I grasp this boundless thing? What shall I play; what shall I sing? I'll sing the mighty riddle of mysterious love, Which neither wretched men below, nor blessed
spirits above, With all their comments can explain; How all the whole world's life to die did not dis
dain! l'll sing the searchless depths of the compassion
Divine, The depths unfathom'd yet By reason's plummet and the line of wit; Too light the plummet, and too short the line!
How the eternal Father did bestow
I'll sing aloud, that all the world may hear
Sound from the top of Calvary ;
Oh, how unlike the others he! Look, how he bends his gentle head with blessings
from the tree! His gracious hands, me'er stretch'd but to do good,
Are nail'd to the infamous wood!
And sinful man dues fondly bind The arms, which he extends t' embrace all human
All this as patient as he?
Through all thy bleeding bowels move. Dost thou not see thy prince in purpie clad all o'er, Not purple brought from the Sidonian shore,
But made at home with richer gore?
The thorny garland by him worn ?
* These verses were not included among those which Mr. Cowley himselt styled Miscellanies; but were classed by Bishop Sprat under the title by which they are here distinguished. N.
If yet thou feelest not the smart
Where'er I see an excellence,
I must admire to see thy well knit sense,
Thy numbers gentle, and thy fancies high; Look on his hands, look on his feet, look on his side! Those as thy forehead smooth, these sparkling as Open, oh ! open wide the fountains of thine eyes,
'Tis solid, and 'tis manly all,
Or rather 'tis angelical ;
For, as in angels, we
Do in thy verses see 'Twould all, alas ! too little be, Though thy salt tears come from a sea.
Both improv'd sexes eminently meet; Canst thou deny him this, when he
They are than man more strong, and inore than wo
They talk of Nine, I know not who,
Female chimeras, that o'er poets reign;
But have invok'd them oft, I'm sure, in vain:
They talk of Sappho; but, alas ! the shaine!
Ill-manners soil the lustre of her fame;
That, like a lantern's fair enclosed light,
| It through the paper shines where she does write.
Honour and friendship, and the generous scorn
Of things for which we were not born
(Things that can only by a fond disease, Ah ! cruel sex, will you depose us too in wit?
Like that of girls, our vicious stomachs please) Orinda ? does in that too reign ;
Are the instructive subjects of her pen; Does man behind her in proud triumph draw,
And, as the Roman victory
Taught our rude land arts and civility,
At once she overcomes, enslaves, and betters, men.
But Rome with all her arts could ne'er inspire In Beauty's campit was not known ;
A female breast with such a fire : Too many arms besides that conqueror bore:
The wailike Amazonian train, 'Twas the great cannon we brought down
Who in Elysium now do peaceful reign,
And Wit's mild enspire before arms prefer,
Hope 'twill be settled in their sex by her.
Merlin, the seer, (and sure he would not lye,
In such a sacred company)
Does prophecies of learn’d Orinda show,
Which he had darkly spoke so long ago;
Ev'n Boadicia's angry ghost
Forgets her own misfortune and disgrace,
And to her injur'd daughters now does boast,
That Rome's o'ercome at last, by a woman of her Th’abortive issue never liv'd.
UPON OCCASION OF A COPY OF VERSES OF MY LORS
Be gone (said I) ingrateful Muse! and see
What others thou canst fool, as well as me.
Since I grew man, and wiser ought to be,
My business and my hopes I left for thee:
For thee (which was more hardly given away)
I left, even when a boy, my play. This, thy no less immortal progeny ;
But say, ingrateful mistress! say, And in their birth thou no one tonch dost find,
What for all this, what didst thou ever pay?
Thou ’lt say, perhaps, that riches are
Not of the growth of lands where thou dost trade, It neither travail is nor labour of the brain :
And I as well my country might upbraid
Because I have no vineyard there.
Well : but in love thou dost pretend to reign; Ip the unexhausted and unfathom'd womb,
There thine the power and lordship is; That, like the Holland countess, thou may'st bear
Thou bad'st me write, and write, and write again; A child for every day of all the fertile year.
'Twas such a way as could not miss. Thou dost my wonder, wouldst my envy, raise, . I, like a fool, did thee ubey: , If to be prais'd I lov'd more than to praise :
I wrote, and wrote, but still I wrote in vain;
For, after all my expense of wit and pain, 2 Mrs. Catharine Phillips
A rich, unwriting hand, carried the prize away.
Thus I complain'd, and strait the Muse reply'd, | Instead of my own likeness, only find
| The Lright idea there of the great writer's mind) Bounty immense! and that too must be try'd When I myself am nothing but a name.
Who now, what reader does not strive
MR. COWLEY'S BOOK PRESENTING ITSELF TO THE All draw upon him, all around,
UNIVERSITY LIBRARY OF OXFORD. And every part of him they wound,
HAIL, Learning's Pantheon ! Hail, the sacred ark Happy ihe man that gives the deepest blow:
Where all the world of science does embark! And this is all, kind Muse! to thee we owe,
Which ever shall withstand, and hast su long with. Then in rage I took,
stood, And out at window threw,
Insatiate Time's devouring flood. Ovid and Horace, all the chiming crew;
Hail, tree of knowledge! thy leaves fruit! which Homer himself went with them too ;
well Hardly escap'd the sacred Mantuan book :
Dost in the midst of Paradise arise, I my own offspring, like Agave, tore,
Oxford ! the Muse's Paradise, And I resolv'd, nay, and I think I swore,
From which may never sword the bless'd expel ! That I no more the ground would till and sow,
Hail, bank of all past ages! where they lie
Hail, Wit's illustrious galaxy !
Where thousand lights into one brightness spread; Inst to the work for which he is assign'd)
Hail, living University of the dead !
The mighty linguist, Fame, or Time, the mighty “ Lo! thy reward ! !ook, here and see
traveller, What I have made” (said she)
That could speak, or this could hear.
Embalm'd in verse ; exalted souls which now
Enjoy those arts they wood so well below; Who rant and challenge all men that have writ,
Which now all wonders plainly see, Will dare l' oppose thee, when
That have been, are, or are to be,
The beatific Bodley of the Deity ;
Will you into your sacred throng admit
The meanest British wit?
You, general-council of the priests of Fame,
Will you not murmur and disdain,
That I a place among you claim,
The chain of ornament, which here 'Tis the best cordial, and which only those
Your noble prisoners proudly wear; Who have at home th' ingredients can compose;
A chain which will more pleasant seem to me A cordial that restores our fainting breath,
Than all my own Pindaric liberty!'
Will ye to bind me with those mighty names submit, The only danger is, lest it should be
• Like an Apocrypha with Holy Writ? Too strong a remedy ;
Whatever happy book is chained here,
No other place or people need to fear;
His chain's a passport to go every where.
As when a seat in Heaven
Is to an unmalicious sinner given,
Who, casting round his wondering eye, To be o'er-heat with praise!
Does none but patriarchs and apostles there espy; But I within me bear, alas! too great allays.
Martyrs who did their lives bestow, 'Tis said, Apelles, when he Venus drew,
And saints, who martyrs liv'd below; Did naked women for his pattern view,
With trembling and amazement he begins And with his powerful fancy did refine
To recollect his frailties past and sins; Their human shapes into a form divine :
He doubts almost his station there; Nune who had sat could her own picture see,
His soul says to itself, “ How came I here?»
It fares no otherwise with me,
Amidst this purify'd elected company.
With hardship they, and pain,
Did to this happiness attain : Yet what have I to boast, or to apply
No la'your I, nor merits, can pretend; To my advantage out of it; since I
| I think prcdestination only was my friend.
Ah, that my author had been ty'd like me
Than those bave done or scen, To such a place and such a company!
Ev'n since they goddesses and this a star has been) Instead of several countries, several men,
As a reward for all her lalwur past, And business, which the Muses hate,
Is made the seat of rest at last. He might have then improv'd that small estate
Let the casc now quite alter'd be, Which Nature sparingly did to him give;
And, as thou wentest abroad the world to see, He might perhaps have thriven then,
Let the world now come to see thee ! And settled upon me, his child, somewhat to live.
The world will do 't ; for curiosity "T har happier been for him, as well as me; Does, no less than devotion, pilgrims make; For when all, alas! is done,
And I myself, w'lo pow lure quiet too. We Books, I mean, you Books, will prove to be As much almost as any Cha'r can do, The best and noblest conversation;
Tould yet a journey tale, For, though some errours will get in,
An old wheel of that chariot to sce, Like tinctures of original sin;
Which Phacton so rashly brake : Yet sure we from our fathers' wit
Yet what could that say more than these remains of Draw all the strength and spirit of it,
Drake? Leaving the grosser parts for conversation,
Great Relie! thou too, in this port of case,
The breath of Fame, like an auspicious gale
(The great trade-wind which ne'er does fail)
| Shall drive thee round the world, and thou shalt run, SITTING AND DRINKING IN THE CHAIR MADE OUT OF As long around it as the Sun.
THE RELICS OF SIR FRANCIS DRAKE'S SHIP. The streights of Time too narrow are for thee; Cheer up, my mates, the wind does fairly blow,
Launch forth into an undiscover'd sea, Clap on more sail, and never spare;
And steer the endlest course of vast Eternity ! Farewell all lands, for now we are
Take for thy sail this verse, and for thy pilot me!
I'PON THE DEATH OF
We round the world are sailing now.
By living mortals, of th' inimortal dead,
And I'ın afraid they laugh at the rain tears we shed. Such countries and wonders, as I do!
'lis as if we, who stay behind But prythee, good pilot, take heed what you do,
In expectation of the wind, And fail not to touch at Peru !
Should pity those who pass'd this streight before, · With gold there the vessel we'll store,
And touch the umiversal shore. And never, and never be poor,
Ah, happy man! who art to sail no more! No, never be poor any more.
And, if it seem ridiculous to grieve What do I mean? What thoughts do me misguide? |
Because our friends are newly come from sea, As well upon a staff may witches ride
Though ne'er so fair and calm it be;
What would all sober men beliere,
If they should hear us sighing say, 'Tis true; but yet this Chair which here you
" Balcarres, who but th' other day
Did all our love and our respect command; see, For all its quiet now, and gravity,
At whose great parts we ali amaz'd did stand; Has wander'd and has travell’d more
Is from a storm, alas! cast suddenly on land ?” Than ever beast, or fish, or bird, or ever tree, be-/ If you will say—“Few persons upon larth fore:
Did, more than he, deserve to have In every air and every sea 't has been,
A life exempt from fortune and the grave; "T has compass'd all the Earth, and all the Heavens . Whether you look upon his birth It has seen.
And ancestors, whose fame's so widely spread Let not the pope's itself with this compare, But ancestors, alas! who long ago are dead This is the only universal Chair.
Or whether you consider more The pious wanderer's feet, sav'd from the flame
The vast increase, as sure you ought, (Which still the relics did of Truy pursue,
Of honour by his labour bought, And took them for its due),
And added to the former store :" A squadron of immortal nymphs became :
All I can answer, is, “ That I allow Still with their arms they row about the seas,
The privilege you plead for; and arow And still make new and greater voyages:
That, as he well deserv'd, he doth enjoy it now.” Nor has the first poetic ship of Greece
Thongh God, for great and righteous ends, (Though now a star she so triumphant show,
Which his unerring Providence intends And guide her sailing silccessors below,
Erroneous mankind should not understand, Bright as her ancient freight the shining fleece) Would not permit Balcarres' hand, Yet to this day a quiet harbour found;
(That once with so much industry and art The tide of heaven still carries her around;
Had clos'd the gaping wounds of every part) Only Drake's sacred vessel (which before
To perfect his distracted nation's cure, Had done and had seen more
Or stop the fatal bondage 'twas t' endure;