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CLAD ALL IN WHITE.

FAREST thing that shines below,

Why in this robe dost thou appear !
Would'st thou a white most perfect show,
Thou must at all no garment wear :
Thou wilt seem much wbiter fo,
Than winter when 'tis clad with snow,

'Tis not the linen shews so fair;
Her skin shines through, and makes it bright:
So clouds themselves like suns appear,
When the sun pierces them with light:
So, lilies in a glass inclose,
The glass will seem as white as those.

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Thou now one heap of beauty art;,
Nought outwards, or within, is foul:-
Condensed beams make every part ;
Thy body's cloathed like thy soul
Thy soul, which does itself displaya.
Like a star plac’d i'th' milky-way.
Such robes the saints departed wear,
Woven all with light divine;
Such their exalted bodies are,
And with such full glory shine ;
But they regard not mortals' pain;
Men

pray, I fear, to both in vain,

Vety

Yet, seeing thee fo gently pure,
My hopes will needs continue still ;
Thou would it not take this garment, sure,
When thou hadít an intent to kill !
Of peace and yielding who would doubt,
When the white flag he sees hung out?

LEAVING ME, AND THEN LOVING MANY. Son

O men, who once have cast the truth away,

Forsook by God, do strange wild lufts obey ; So the vain Gentiles, when they left t'adore One Deity, could not stop at thousands more : Their zeal was senseless strait, and boundless, grown ; They worship'd many a beast and many a stone. Ah, fair apostate ! couldst thou think to fee From Truth and Goodness, yet keep unity ? I reign'd alone ; and my blest self could call The universal monarch of her all. Mine, mine, her fair East-Indies were above, Where those suns rise that chear the world of Love ; Where beauties shine like gems of richest price ; Where coral grows, and every breath is fpice : Mine too her rich Welt-Indies were below, Where mines of gold and endless treasures grow. But, as when the Pellæan conqueror dy'd, Many small princes did his crown divide; So, since my love his vanquish'd world forfook, Murder'd by poisons from her falsehood took, An hundred petty kings claim each their part, And rend that glorious empire of her heart.

MY MY HEART DISCOVERED.

HER body is so gently bright,

E

Clear and transparent to the sight
(Clear as fair crystal to the view,
Yet soft as that, ere stone it grew)
That through her flesh, methinks, is seen
The brighter soul that dwells within :
Our eyes the subtile covering pass,
And see that lily through its glass.
I through her breast her heart espy,
As fouls in hearts do souls defcry :
I fee 't with gentle motions beat;
I see light in 't, but find no heat.
Within, like angels in the sky,
A thousand gilded thoughts do fly ;
Thoughts of bright and noblest kind,
Fair and chaste as mother-mind.
But oh! what other heart is there,
Which sighs and crouds to her's so near ?
'Tis all on flame, and does; like fire,
To that, as to its heaven, aspire !
The wounds are many in ’t and deep ;
Still does it bleed, and still does

weep

!
Whose-ever wretched heart it be,
I cannot choose but grieve to see :
What pity in my breast does reign!
Methinks I feel too all its pain.

So

So torn, and so defac’d, it lies,
That it could ne'er be known by th' eyes ;
But oh! at laid I hard it

groan,
And knew by th' voice that 'twas mine own.
So poor Alcione, when the law
A hipwreck'd body tow'rds her draw,
Beat by the waves, let fall a tear,
Which only then did pity wear :
But, when the corpse on shore were cast,
Which Nie her husband found at last,
What should the wretched widow do ?
Grief chang’d her strait ; away she flew,
Turn'd to a bird : and so at last shall I
Both from my murder'd heart and murderer fly.

ANSWER TO THE PLATONICKS.

Swangels love; fo let them love for me ;

0

When I 'm all soul, such shall my love too be :
Who nothing here but like a spirit would do,
In a short time, believe 't, „will be one too.
But, shall our love do what in beasts we see?
Ev'n beasts eat too, but not so well as we :
And you as justly might in thirst refuse
The use of wine, because beasts water use :
They taste those pleasures as they do their food;
Undress’d they take, 't, devour it raw and crude :
But to us men, Love cooks it at his fire,
And adds the poignant sauce of sharp desire.

Beafts,

Beasts do the same : 'tis true ; but ancient Fame
Says, Gods themselves turn'd beasts to do the same.
The Thunderer, who, without the female bed,
Could Goddesses bring-forth from out his head,
Chose rather mortals this way to create ;
So much he' esteem’d his pleasure ’bove his state.
Ye talk of fires which shine, but never burn;
In this cold world they 'll hardly serve our turn;
As useless to despairing lovers grown,
As lambent flames to men i'th' frigid zone.
The sun does his pure fires on earth bestow
'With nuptial warmth, to bring-forth things below;
Such is Love's noblest and divinest heat,
That warms like his, and does, like his, beget.
Luft
you

call this ; a name to your's more just,
If an inordinate desire be luft :
Pygmalion, loving what none can enjoy,
More luftful was, than the hot youth of Troy.

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Loving one first because she could love Nobody,

afterwards loving her with Desire.

W

HATnew-found witchcraft was in thee,

With thine own cold to kindle me?
Strange art! like him that should devise
To make a burning-glass of ice :
When winter so, the plants would harm,
Her snow itself does keep them warm.
• VOL. I.

R

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