Thus her Friend's Heart her Country Dwelling was,
A fweet Retirement to a courfer Place:
Where Pomp and Ceremonies enter'd not;
Where Greatness was fhut out, and Bus' nefs well forgot.
This is th' imperfe& Draught; but short as far
As the true Height and Bignefs of a Star
Exceeds the Measures of th' Aftronomer.

She fhines above, we know, but in what place,
How near the Throne, and Heav'ns Imperial Face,
By our weak Opticks is but vainly gueft;
Distance and Altitude conceal the reft.

Tho' all these rare Endowments of the Mind
Were in a narrow Space of Life confin'd,
The Figure was with full Perfection crown'd;
Though not fo large an Orb, as truly round.

As when in Glory, through the publick Place,
The Spoils of conquer'd Nations were to pass,
And but one Day for Triumph was allow'd,
The Conful was conftrain'd his Pomp to crowd;
And fo the swift Proceffion hurry'd on,
That all, though not diftin&tly, might be shown;
So, in the traiten'd Bounds of Life confin'd,
She gave but glimpfes of her glorious Mind :
And Multitudes of Virtues pafs'd along;
Each preffing foremoft in the mighty Throng;'
Ambitious to be feen, and then make Room,
For greater Multitudes that were to come.
Yet unemploy'd no Minute flipt away;
Moments were precious in fo fhort a stay.
The hafte of Heav'n to have her was fo great,
That fome were fingle Acts, though each compleat;
But ev'ry Act food ready to repeat."

Her fellow Saints with buffe Care will look
For her bleft Name, in Fate's eternal Book
And, pleas'd to be outdone, with Joy will fee
Numberless Virtues, endlefs Charity;
But more will wonder at fo fhort an Age;
To find a Blank beyond the thirti'th Fage;

And with a pious Fear begin to doubt
The Piece imperfect, and the reft torn out.
But 'twas her Saviour's time; and, cou'd there be
A Copy near th' Original, 'twas the.

As precious Gums are not for lasting Fire,
They but Perfume the Temple, and expire :
So was the foon exhal'd; and vanish'd hence;
A short sweet Odour, of a vaft Expence.
She vanish'd, we can scarcely say the dy'd;
For but a Now, did Heav'n and Earth divide:
She pass'd serenely with a single Breath, ́

This Moment perfect Health, the next was Death:
One Sigh, did her eternal Bliss affure;

So little Penance needs, when Souls are almoft pure,
As gentle Dreams our waking Thoughts pursue;
Or, one Dream pass'd, we slide into a new;
(So close they follow, fuch wild Order keep,
We think our felves awake, and are asleep :)
So foftly Death fucceeded Life in her;
She did but dream of Heav'n, and he was there.
No Pains the fuffer'd, nor expir'd with Noise;
Her Soul was whisper'd out with God's ftill Voice:
As an old Friend is beckon'd to a Feaft,
And treated like a long familiar Guest;
He took her as he found; but found her so,
As one in hourly Readiness to go.
Ev'n on that Day, in all her Trim prepar'd;
As early Notice the from Heav'n had heard,
And fome descending Courtier, from above
Had giv'n her timely Warning to remove:
Or counsel'd her to drefs the nuptial Room;
For on that Night the Bridegroom was to come.
He kept his Hour, and found her where the lay
Cloath'd all in white, the Liv'ry of the Day:
Scarce had the finn'd, in Thought, or Word, or A&;
Unless Omiffions were to pafs for Fact:
That hardly Death a Consequence cou'd draw,
To make her liable to Nature's Law,

And that the dy❜d we only have to show,
The mortal part of her the left below:
The reft (fo fmooth, fo fuddenly she went)
Look'd like Tranflation, through the Firmament;
Or like the fiery Carr, on the third Errand fent.
O happy Soul! if thou canst view from high,
Where thou art all Intelligence, all Eye,
If looking up to God, or down to us,
Thou find'ft, that any way be pervious,
Survey the Ruins of thy Houfe, and fee
Thy widow'd, and thy Orphan Family;
Look on thy tender Pledges left behind:
And, if thou canst a vacant Minute find
From Heavenly Joys, that Interval afford
To thy fad Children, and thy mourning Lord.
See how they grieve, mistaken in their Love,
And fhed a Beam of Comfort from above;
Give 'em, as much as mortal Eyes can bear,
A tranfient View of thy full Glories there;
That they with mod'rate Sorrow may sustain
And mollifie their Loffes, in thy Gain.
Or elfe divide the Grief, for fuch thou wert,
That fhou'd not all Relations bear a part,
It were enough to break a fingle Heart.

Let this fuffice: Nor thou, great Saint, refuse
This humble Tribute of no vulgar Mufe:
Who, not by Cares, or Wants, or Age depreft,
Stems a wild Deluge with a dauntless Breast:
And dares to fing thy Praises in a Clime
Where Vice triumphs, and Virtue is a Crime;
Where ev'n to draw the Picture of thy Mind,
Is Satyr on the most of Human Kind:
Take it, while yet 'tis Praife; before my Rage,'
Unfafely juft, break loose on this bad Age;
So bad, that thou thy felf hadft no Defence
From Vice, but barely by departing hence.

Be what, and where thou art: To with thy place, Were in the best, Presumption more than Grace,

Thy Reliques (fuch thy Works of Mercy are)
Have, in this Poem, been my holy care.
As Earth thy Body keeps, thy Soul the Sky,
So fhall this Verfe preferve thy Memory;
For thou shalt make it live, because it fings of thee.

RONDELAY.

By the fame Hand.

HLOE found Amyntas lying

Call in Tears, upon the Plain;

Sighing to himself, and crying,
Wretched I, to love in vain!
Kifs me, Dear, before my dying;
Kiss me once, and case my Pain!
II.

Sighing to himself, and crying
Wretched I, to love in vain :
Ever fcorning and denying

To reward your faithful Swain:
Kifs me, Dear, before my dying:
Kiss me once, and ease my pain!

III.

Ever fcorning, and denying
To reward your faithful Swain;
Chloe, laughing at his crying,

Told him that he lov'd in vain:
Kifs me, Dear, before my dying:
Kiss me once, and cafe my pain!
IV.

Chloe, laughing at his crying,
Told him that he lov'd in vain:
But repenting, and complying,
When he kiss'd, the kifs'd again:
Kifs'd him up, before his dying;
Kifs'd him up, and eas'd his pain.

To the Pious Memory of the Accomplish'd Young Lady, Mrs. ANNE KILLIGREW, Excellent in the two Sifter- Arts of Poefie, and Painting. An ОDĘ.

T

By the fame Hand.

Hou youngest Virgin-Daughter of the Skies,
Made in the laft Promotion of the Bleft;
Whofe Palms, new pluckt from Paradise,
In fpreading Branches more fublimely rife,
Rich with Immortal Green above the reft:
Whether, adopted to fome Neighbouring Star,
Thou roll'ft above us, in thy wand'ring Race,
Or, in Proceffion fixt and regular,

Mov'd with the Heav'ens Majestick Pace ;
Or, call'd to more Superiour Bliss,
Thou tread'ft, with Seraphims, the vaft Abyss:
Whatever happy Region is thy place,
Ceafe thy Celestial Song a little space;
(Thou wilt have time enough for Hymns Divine,
Since Heav'ns Eternal Year is thine.)
Hear then a Mortal Mufe thy Praise rehearse,
In no ignoble Verfe;

But fuch as thy own Voice did practise here,
When thy first Fruits of Poefie were giv❜n ;
To make thy felf a welcome Inmate there:
While yet a young Probationer,

And Candidate of Heav'n.

If by Traduction came thy Mind,
Our Wonder is the lefs to find

A Soul fo charming from a Stock fo good;
Thy Father was transfus'd into thy Blood:
So wert thou born into a tuneful strain,
(An early, rich, and inexhausted Vein.)
But if thy Præexifting Soul

Was form'd, at firft, with Myriads more,