But true flames my poor heart pierc❜d, For my counterfeited look. None who loves not, then, make shew: Love's as ill deceiv'd as fate; Fly the boy, he'll cog and woo, Mock him, and he wounds thee straight. Ah! who dally boast in vain; False love wants not real pain, LOVE ONCE, LOVE EVER. SHALL I, hopeless, then pursue A fair shadow that still flies me? Shall I still adore and woo A proud heart that does despise me? I a constant love may so, But, alas! a fruitless, shew. Whilst these thoughts my soul possess, Reason passion would o'ersway, Bidding me my flames suppress, That So a pilot, bent to make Search for some unfound-out land, Does with him the magnet take, Sailing to the unknown strand; But that (steer which way he will) To the loved north points still. [Extract from "the Sun-rise."] THOU youthful goddess of the morn, Too much of time the night devours; The cock's shrill voice calls thee again: Then quickly mount thy golden wain, Drawn by the softly-sliding hours, And make apparent to all eyes With what enamel thou dost paint the skies. Ah, now I see the sweetest dawn! Thrice welcome to my longing sight! Hail, divine beauty, heavenly light; I see thee through yon cloud of lawn Appear, and as thy star does glide, Blanching with rays the east on every side! Dull silence, and the drowsy king The darkest shadows vanquishing: The owl, that all the night did keep A hooting, now is fled, and gone to sleep. But all those little birds, whose notes Praising, to which thou art but harbinger. With holy reverence inspir'd, The earth, at so divine a sight, Reeking with perfumes to the skies, Which she presents, her native sacrifice. The humble shepherd, to his rays The bee through flowery gardens goes, Buzzing, to drink the morning's tears, And, like a wary messenger, Whispers some amorous story in her ear.* The remainder of this poem would now be thought forced and unnatural. SIR FRANCIS KINASTON, Author of "Leoline and Sydanis," and "Cynthiades," 1641, son of Sir Edward Kinaston, knt. of Otely in Shropshire, became gentleman-commoner of Oriel College, 1601, took his master's degree in Cambridge, and returned to Oxford 1611. Thence he went to Court, was knighted in 1618, and afterwards made esquire of the body of Charles I. He was the first regent of the academy called the Museum Minerva, 1635. He printed this year two books of a Latin translation of Chaucer's Troilus and Cresseid; and died 1642, or there. abouts, says Wood, who adds: "This is the person who 66 by experience falsified the alchymist's report, that a hen "being fed for certain days with gold, beginning when Sol 66 was in Leo, should be converted into gold, and should 66 lay golden eggs; but indeed became very fat." Do not conceal thy radiant eyes, Do not conceal those tresses fair, |