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To the first edition of the author's poems printed in 1645 was prefixed the following advertisement of The STATIONER to the READER.

I

T is not any private refpect of gain, gentle Reader, for the flightest pamphlet is now adays more vendible than the works of learnedeft men; but it is the love I have to our own language, that hath made me diligent to collect and set forth fuch pieces both in profe and verse, as may renew the wonted honor and esteem of our English tongue and it's the worth of thefe both English and Latin poems, not the florish of any prefixed encomiums that can invite thee to buy them, though these are not without the highest commendations and applause of the learnedeft Academics, both domeftic and foreign; and amongst thofe of our own country, the unparallel'd atteftation of that renowned Provost of Eton, Sir Henry Wotton. I know not thy palate how it relishes fuch dainties, nor how harmonious thy foul is; perhaps more trivial airs may please thee better. But howfoever thy opinion is fpent upon thefe, that encouragement I have already received from the most ingenious men in their clear and courteous entertainment of Mr. Waller's late choice pieces, hath once more made me adventure into the world, prefenting it with thefe ever-green, and not to be blafted laurels. The Author's more peculiar excellency in these ftudies was too well known to conceal his papers, or to keep me from attempting to folicit them from him. Let the event guide itself which way it will, I fhall deferve of the age, by bringing into the light as true a birth, as the Mufes have brought forth fince our famous Spenfer wrote; whofe poems in thefe English ones are as rarely imitated, as sweetly excell'd. Reader, if thou art eagle-ey'd to cenfure their worth, I am not fearful to expofe them to thy exacteft perufal. Thine to command,

HUMPH, MOSELEY,

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On the death of a fair Infant, dying of a cough,

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I.

Faireft flow'r no fooner blown but blasted, Soft filken primrose fading timelefly, Summer's chief honor, if thou hadft out-lasted Bleak Winter's force that made thy bloffom dry; For he being amorous on that lovely dye

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

II.

For fince grim Aquilo his charioteer
By boiftrous rape th' Athenian damfel got,
He thought it touch'd his deity full near,
If likewife he fome fair one wedded not,
Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot

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Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld, [held. Which 'mongst the wanton Gods a foul reproach was

III.

So mounting up in icy-pearled car,
Through middle empire of the freezing air
He wander'd long, till thee he fpy'd from far;
There ended was his queft, there ceas'd his care,
Down he descended from his fnow-soft chair,

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But all unwares with his cold-kind embrace, 20 Unhous'd thy virgin foul from her fair biding place. IV.

25

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
For fo Apollo, with unweeting hand,
Whilome 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 fo to change thee Winter had no power,

V.

Yet can I not perfuade me thou art dead,

Or that thy corfe corrupts in earth's dark womb, 30
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,

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

Oh no! for fomething in thy face did shine Above mortality, that fhow'd thou waft divine. 35

VI.

Refolve me then, oh Soul moft furely bleft,
(If fo it be that thou these plaints doft hear)
Tell me bright Spirit where'er thou hovereft,
Whether above that high first-moving sphere,
Or in th' Elyfian fields (if fuch there were)

40

Oh fay me true, if thou wert mortal wight, And why from us fo quickly thou didst take thy flight.

Wert

VII.

Wert thou fome star which from the ruin'd roof
Of fhak'd Olympus by mifchance didst fall;
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall ?
Or did of late earth's fons befiege the wall

45

Of theeny Heav'n, and thou fome Goddess fled Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head? VIII.

Or wert thou that juft Maid who once before
Forfook the hated earth, O tell me footh,
And cam'ft again to visit us once more?
Or wert thou that sweet smiling Youth?

50

Or that crown'd matron fage white-robed Truth? Or any other of that heav'nly brood

55

Let down in cloudy throne to do the world fome good?

IX.

60

Or wert thou of the golden-winged hoft,
Who having clad thyself in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixed feat didft poft,
And after fhort abode fly back with speed,
As if to fhow what creatures Heav'n doth breed,
Thereby to fet the hearts of men on fire
Tofcorn the fordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire?

X.

But oh why didst 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-rufhing black perdition hence,
Or drive away the flaughtering peftilence,

65

To ftand 'twixt us and our deferved fmart? But thou canst best perform that office where thou art.

N 3

Then

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