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Covering the Earth with odours, fruits, and Aocks,
Thronging the Seas with spawn innumerable,
But all to please, and fate the curious taste ?
And set to work millions of spinning Worms, [filk,
That in their green shops weave the smooth-hair'd
To deck her Sons; and that no corner might
Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins
She hutcht th’all-worshipt Ore, and precious Gems,
To store her chilldren with? If all the world
Should in a pet of temperance feed on Pulse,
Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but Frieze,
Th’All-giver would be unthank’d,would be unprais’d
Not half his riches known, and yet defpis'd,
And we should serve him as a grudging Master,
As a penurious Niggard of his wealth,
And live like Nature's bastards not her fons,
Who would be quite surcharg'd with her own weight,
And strangl'd with her waste fertility; (plumes,
Th'earth cumber'd, and the wing'd air darkt with
The herds would over-multitude their Lords,
The Sea o'erfraught would swell, and th' unfought

Diamonds
Would fo emblaze the forehead of the Deep,
And so bestud with Stars, that they below
Would grow inur'd to light, and come at last
To gaze upon the Sun with fhameless brows,
List, Lady; be not coy, and be not cosen'd
With that same vaunted name Virginity:
Beauty is Nature's coin, must not be hoarded,
But must be current, and the good thereof
Consists in mutual and partaken bliss,
Unfavoury in th' injoyment of itself;

If you let flip time, like a neglected rose,
It withers on the stalk with languish'd head.
Beauty is Nature's brag, and must be shown
In Courts, at Feasts, and high Solemnities,
Where most may wonder at the workmanship:
It is for homely features to keep home,
They had their name thence; coarse complexions,
And cheeks of sorry grain will serve to ply
The sampler, and to teize the housewife's wooll.
What need a vermil-tinctur'd lip for that,
Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the Morn?
There was another meaning in these gifts,
Think what, and be advis'd ; you are but young yet,

La. I had not thought to have unlockt my lips
In this unhallow'd air, but that this Jugler
Would think to charm my Judgment, að mine Eyes,
Obtruding false Rules, prankt in Reason's garb.
I hate when vice can bolt her arguments,
And virtue has no tongue to check her pride.
Impostor, do not charge most innocent Nature,
As if the would her children should be riotous
With her abundance ; me, good caterers,
Means her provision only to the good,
That live according to her sober laws,
And holy dictate of spare Temperance.
If every just man, that now pines with want,
Had but a moderate and beseeming Tare
Of that, which lewdly-pamper'd Luxury,
Now heaps upon some few with vast excesi,
Nature's full blessings would be well dispens’d,
In unsuperfluous even proportion,

And

K4

And the no whit encumber'd with her ftore ;
And then the giver would be better thank'd,
His praise due paid: for swinish gluttony
Ne'er looks to Heav'n amidst his gorgeous feast,
But with befotted base ingratitude
Crams, and blafphemes his feeder. Shall I go on?
Or have I said enough to him that dares
Arm his prophane tongue with contemptuous words -
Against the Sun-clad power of Chastity?
Fain would I something say, yet to what end?
Thou hast nor Ear, nor Soul to apprehend
The sublime notion, and high mystery
That must be utter'd to unfold the fage
And serious doctrine of Virginity,
And thou art worthy that thou Should'st not know
More happiness than this thy present lot.
Enjoy your dear Wit, and gay Rhetorick,
That hath so well been taught her dazling fence,
Thou art not fit to hear thyself convinc'd;
Yet Tould I try, the uncontrouled worth
Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits
To such a flame of sacred vehemence,
That dumb things would be mov'd to fympathize,
And the brute Earth would lend her nerves, and shake,
Till all thy magick structures, rear'd so high,
Were shatter'd into heaps o'er thy false head.
· Co. She fables not; I feel that I do fear
Her words set off by some superior power :
And tho' not mortal, yet a cold hudd'ring dew
Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove
Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus

T.

To some of Saturn's crew. I must diffemble,
And try her yet more strongly. Come, no more ;
This is mere moral babble, and direct
Against the Canon Laws of our Foundation ;
I must not suffer this, 'tis but the lees
And settlings of a melancholy blood :
But this will cure all streight, one fip of this
Will bathe the drooping fpirits in delight,
Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wife and taste.---
The Brothers, ruß in with Swords drawn, wres

bis Glass out of bis band, and break it against
the ground; bis Rout make fign of refftance,
but are all driven in. The attendant Spiris.

comes in, Spir. What, have you let the false Enchanter fcape? Oye mistook, ye rould have snatch'd his wand, And bound him faft; without his rod revers’d, And backward.mutters of diflevering power, We cannot free the Lady that fits here In ftony fetters fixt, and motionless : Yet stay, be not disturb'd, now I bethink me, Some other means I have which may be us’d, Which once of Melibæus old I learnt, The foothest Shepherd that e'er pip'd on Plains.

There is a gentle Nymph, not far from hence ; That with moist curb fways the smooth Severn Sabrina is her name, a Virgin pure ; [ftream, Whilom the was the daughter of Lacrine, That had the Scepter from his Father Brute : She, guiltless damfel, fiying the mad pursuit

Of her enraged Stepdame Guendolen,
Commended her fair innocence to the food,
That stay'd her fight with his cross-flowing course ;
The water Nymphs, that in the bottom play'd,
Held up their pearled wrists and took her in,
Bearing her streight to aged Nereus' Hall ;
Who piteous of her woes, rear'd her tank head,
And gave her to his daughters to imbathe
In nectar'd lavers strew'd with Asphodil ;
And through the porch and inlet of each sense
Dropt in Ambrosial Oyls till the reviv’d,
And underwent a quick immortal change,
Made Goddess of the River : ftill the retains
Her maiden gentleness, and oft at Eve
Visits the herds along the twilight meadows,
Helping all Urchin blast, and ill-luck signs
That the shrewd medling Elfe delights to make,
Which me with precious viol'd liquors heals.
For which the Shepherds at their Festivals
Carrol her goodness loud in rustic lays,
And throw fweet garland wreaths into her stream
Of Pansies, Pinks and gaudy Daffadils.
And, as the old Swain faid, mecan unlock
The clasping charm, and thaw the numbing spell,
If the be right invok'd in warbled Song ;
For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift
To aid a Virgin, such as was her felf,
In hard-besetting need : 'this will I try,
And add the pow'r of some adjuring verse,

SONG,

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