Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
Ove Amor mise l'infanabil ago.

VII.

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 spring no bud or blossom fhew'th.
Perhaps my femblance might deceive the truth,
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 Heaven;

All is, if I have grace to use it so,

As ever in my great Task-Master's eye.
VIII.

When the affault was intended to the City.
Captain or Colonel, or Knight in arms,

Whose chance on these defenfelefs doors may feise, If deed of honor did thee ever please,

Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee, for he knows the charms

5

That call fame on such gentle acts as these,
And he can spread thy name o'er lands and feas,

What

5

10

Whatever clime the fun's bright circle warms.

Lift not thy fpear against the Muses bow'r:
The great Emathian
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.
IX.

To the Lady Margaret Ley.

Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,

10

To a virtuous young Lady. Lady that in the prime of earliest youth

Wisely 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

Chofen thou haft; 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

10

To fill the odorous lamp with deeds of light, And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be fure Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night, Haft gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wife and pure. X.

5

Who

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
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.

Though later born than to have known the days Wherein father florish'd, yet by you,

5

your

Madam, methinks I fee him living yet;
So well your words his noble virtues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to poffefs them, honor'd Margaret.

XI.

On the detraction which follow'd upon my writing certain treatifes.

10

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,
Numb'ring good intellects; now feldom por'd on.
Cries the fall-reader, Bless us! what a word on 5
A title page is this! and fome in file

Stand spelling false, while one might walk to MileEnd Green. Why is it harder Sirs than Gordon, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galafp?

9

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

Hated not learning worse than toad or afp, (Greek. When thou taught'ft Cambridge, and king Edward XII.

On the fame.

I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs
By the known rules of ancient liberty,

When straight a barbarous noise environs me
Of owls and cuccoos, affes, apes and dogs:
As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs 5
Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,

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,

And ftill revolt when truth would fet them free. 10
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 see
For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood.

XIII.

To Mr. H. LA WES on his Airs. Harry, whose tuneful and well measur'd song First taught our English music how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scan With Midas ears, committing fhort and long; Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, 5 With praise enough for envy to look wan; To after age thou shalt be writ the man,

That

10

That with smooth air couldst humour beft our tongue. Thou honor'st verse, and verse must lend her wing To honor thee, the priest of Phœbus quire, That tun'ft their happiest lines in hymn, or story. Dante shall give fame leave to set thee higher Than his Cafella, whom he woo'd to fing Met in the milder fhades of purgatory.

XIV.

On the religious memory of Mrs. Catharine Thomfon, my Chriflian friend, deceas'd 16 Decem. 1646.

When faith and love, which parted from thee never, Had ripen'd thy just soul 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, And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.

II

Το