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Pillows his chin upon an orient wave, The flocking fhadows pale,

Troop to th' infernal Jail;

Each fetter'd Ghoft flips to his feveral grave; And the yellow-skirted Fayes

[maze. Fly after the Night-steeds, leaving their Moon-lov'd XXVII.

But fee! the Virgin bleft

Hath laid her Babe to reft;

[ing:

Time is our tedious Song fhould here have endHeav'n's youngest teemed Star

Hath fix'd her polish'd Car,

[ing:

Her fleeping Lord with Handmaid Lamp attend

And all about the Courtly Stable,

Bright-harneft Angels fit in order serviceable.

Anno ætatis 17.

On the Death of a Fair Infant, a Nephew of his, dying of a Cough.

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I.

Faireft flower, no fooner blown but blasted,
Soft filken Primrofe fading timeleЛly,

Summer's chief Honour, if thou hadft out-lafted
Bleak Winter's force that made thy bloffom drie;
For he being amorous on that lovely die,

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kifs, But kill'd, alas! and then bewail'd his fatal blifs. II. For

II.

For fince grim Aquilo his charioteer
By boift'rous rape th' Athenian damfel got,
He thought it toucht his Deity full near,
If likewife he fome fair one wedded not,
Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot
Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld,
Which 'mongst the wanton Gods a foul reproach
[was held.

III.

So mounting up in icy-pearled carr,

Through middle empire of the freezing air
He wander'd long, till thee he spy'd from far,
There ended was his quest, there ceas'd his care:
Down he defcended from his Snow-foft chair;

But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace Unhous'd thy Virgin Soul from her fair biding-place. IV.

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
For fo Apollo, with unweeting hand,
Whilom did flay his dearly-loved mate,
Young Hyacinth born on Eurota's strand,
Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land;

But then transform'd him to a purple flower: Alack! that so to change thee Winter had no power. V.

Yet can I not perfuade me thou art dead,
Or that thy coarse corrupts in earth's dark womb,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormie bed,

Hid from the World in a low delved tomb;
Could Heav'n for pity thee fo ftrictly doom?

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Oh

Oh no! for fomething in thy face did fhine
Above mortality, that fhew'd thou waft divine.
VI.

Refolve me then, oh Soul most surely bleft,
(If fo it be that thou these plaints dost hear)
Tell me bright Spirit where-e'er thou hoverest,
Whether above that high first-moving Sphere,
Or in th' Elysian fields (if fuch there were;)
O fay me true, if thou wert mortal wight,
And why from us fo quickly thou didst take thy
[Alight.
Wert thou fome Star, which from the ruin'd roof
Of shak'd Olympus by mischance didst fall;
Which careful Jove in Nature's true behoof
Took up, and in fit place did reinstal?
Or did of late earth's Sons befiege the wall

VII.

Of fheenie Heav'n, and thou some goddess fled, Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head? VIII.

Or wert thou that juft Maid, who once before
Forfook'ft the hated earth, O tell me footh,
And cam'ft again to vifit us once more?
Or wert thou that fweet smiling Youth?
Or that crown'd Matron, fage white-robed Truth?
Or any other of that Heav'nly brood,

Let down in cloudy throne to do the World fome

IX.

Or wert thou of the golden-winged hoft,
Who, having clad thy felf in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixed feat didft poft,
And after short abode fly back with speed,

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As

As if to fhew what creatures Heav'n doth breed ;
Thereby to fet the hearts of men on fire
To fcorn the fordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire?

X.

But oh! why didft thou not stay here below
To bless us with thy Heav'n-lov'd innocence,
To flake his wrath, whom fin hath made our foe,
To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence,
Or drive away the flaughtering peftilence,

XI.

To ftand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? But thou canft beft perform that office where thou [art. Then thou, the Mother of fo fweet a Child, Thy falfe imagin❜d loss cease to lament, And wifely learn to curb thy forrows wild; Think what a prefent thou to God haft fent, And render him with patience what he lent; This if thou do, he will an offspring give, That till the World's laft end fhall make thy name [to live.

Anno Ætatis 19. At a Vacation Exercife in the College, part Latin, part English. The Latin Speeches ended, the English thus began.

H

AIL, native Language, that by finews weak
Didft move my first endeavouring tongue to

fpeak,

L 3

And

And mad ft imperfect words with childish trips,
Half unpronounc'd, flide through my infant lips,
Driving dumb filence from the portal door,
Where he had mutely fat two years before:
Here I falute thee, and thy pardon ask,
That now I ufe thee in my latter task:
Small lofs it is that thence can come unto thee,
I know my tongue but little grace can do thee:
Thou need'ft not be ambitious to be first,
Believe me I have thither packt the worft:
And, if it happen as I did forecast,

The daintiest dishes fhall be ferv'd up laft.
I pray thee then deny me not thy aid
For this fame small neglect that I have made :
But hafte thee ftrait to do me once a Pleasure,
And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefeft treasure;
Not those new fangled toys, and trimmings flight,
Which take our late fantafticks, with delight;
But cull thofe richest Robes, and gay'st Attire,
Which deepest Spirits and choiceft Wits defire.
I have fome naked thoughts that rove about,
And loudly knock to have their paffage out;
And weary of their place do only stay,
Till theu haft deck'd them in thy beft array}
That fo they may without fufpect or fears
Fly swiftly to this fair Affembly's ears,
Yet I had rather, if I were to chufe,
Thy fervice in fome graver fubje&t use,

Such as may make thee search thy coffers round,
Before thou clothe my fancy in fit found:
Such where the deep tranfported mind may foar
Above the wheeling poles, and at Heav'n's door

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