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Down on cold earth; and for a while was

dead, And my freed foul to a strange fome

where fled : Ah sottish foul, said I, When back to its cage again I saw it

fly : Fool to resume her broken chain ! And row her galley here again!

Fool, to that body to return Where it condemn’d and destin'd is to

burn! Once dead, how can it be, Death should a thing so pleasant seem

to thee, That thou shouldst come to live it o'er again in me?

Cowley,

A lover's

A lover's heart, a hand grenado. Wo to her stubborn heart, if once mine

come
Into the self-fame room, ni

'Twill tear and blow up all within, Like a grenado fhot into a magazin. Then shall love keep the ashes, and torn

parts,
Of both our broken hearts :

Shall-out of both one new one make; From her’s th’allay ; from mine, the metal take.

• COWLEY.

The poetical Propagation of Light The Prince's favour is diffus'd o'er all, From which all fortunes, names and na. tures fall;

Then

rma.

Then from thofe wombs of stars, the

Bride's bright eyes, i At every glance, a constellation flies, And fowes the court with stars, and doth :- prevent 0 , ... : In light and power, the all-ey'd firma

ment; First her eye kindles other ladies' eyes,

Then from their beams their jewels: . Juftres rise ; And from their jewels torches do take

fire, ; ita i And all is warmth, and light, and good · desire. . . . .

DONNE.

THEY were in very little care to clothe their notions with elegance of dress,

and therefore miss the notice and the praise which are often gained by those, who think less, but are more diligent to adorn their thoughts.

That a mistress beloved is fairer in idea than in reality, is by Cowley thus expressed : Thou in my fancy dost much higher

stand, Than women can be plac'd by Nature's

hand; And I must needs, I'm sure, a loser

be, To change thee, as thou’rt there, for

very thee.

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That prayer and labour should cooperate, are thus taught by Donne :

In none but us, are such mixt engines

found, As hands of double office : for the

ground We till with them; and them to

heav'n we raise; Who prayerless labours, or without

this, prays, Doth but one half, that's none.

By the same author, a common topick, the danger of procrastination, is thus illustrated :

-- That which I should have begun In my youth's morning, now late must

be done; And I, as giddy travellers must do,

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