With admiration! for a pitch fo high
(Save facred Charles's) never love durst fly.
Heaven, that prefer'd a scepter to your hand,
Favor'd our freedom more than your command:
Beauty had crown'd you, and you must have been
The whole world's miftrefs, other than a Queen.
All had been rivals, and you might have fpar'd,
Or kill'd, and tyranniz'd, without a guard.
No power atchiev'd, either by arms or birth,
Equals Love's empire, both in heaven and carth:
Such eyes as yours, on Jove himself have thrown
As bright and fierce a lightning as his own:
Witness our Jove, prevented by their flame
In his fwift paffage to th' Hefperian Dame :
When, like a lion, finding in his way
To fome intended fpoil, a fairer prey;
The Royal Youth, purfuing the report
Of beauty, found it in the Gallic Court:
There public care with private passion fought
A doubtful combat in his noble thought:
Should he confefs his greatness and his love,
And the free faith of your † Great Brother prove;
With his Achates, breaking through the cloud
Of that disguise which did their Graces shroud;
And mixing with those Gallants at the Ball,
Dance with the Ladies, and outshine them all?
Or on his journey o'er the mountains ride?-
So, when the fair Leucothoë he espy'd,

+ Lewis XIII. K. of France. D. of Buckingham.

Το

To check his steeds impatient Phœbus yearn'd,
Though all the world was in his courfe concern'd.
What may hereafter her meridian do,

Whose dawning beauty warm'd his bofom fo?
Not fo divine a flame, fince deathlefs Gods
Forbore to vifit the defil'd abodes

Of men, in any mortal breast did burn ;
Nor fhall, till Picty and They return.

OF THE QUEEN.

HE lark, that shuns on lofty boughs to build

THer humble neft, lies filent in the field:

But if (the promise of a cloudless Day)
Aurora fmiling bids her rise and play;

Then ftrait the fhews, 'twas not for want of voice,
Or power to climb, she made so low a choice :
Singing the mounts, her airy wings are stretch'd
Tow'rds heaven, as if from heaven her note the fetch'd.
So we, retiring from the bufy throng,

Ufe to reftrain th' ambition of our fong;

But fince the light which now informs our age,
Breaks from the Court, indulgent to her rage;
Thither my Mufe, like bold Prometheus, flies,

To light her torch at Gloriana's eyes.

Thofe fovereign beams, which heal the wounded foul, And all our cares, but once beheld, control! There the poor lover that has long endur'd Some proud nymph's fcorn, of his fond paffion cur'd, Fares like the man who first upon the ground A glow-worm fpy'd; fuppofing he had found

A moving

A moving diamond, a breathing ftone;
For life it had, and like thofe jewels fhone:
He held it dear, till, by the fpringing day
Inform'd, he threw the worthlefs worm away.
She faves the lover, as we gangrenes stay,
By cutting hope, like a lopt limb, away:
This makes her bleeding patients to accuse
High Heaven, and these expoftulations use.
"Could nature then no private woman grace,
"Whom we might dare to love, with fuch a face,
"Such a complexion, and fo radiant eyes,
"Such lovely motion, and fuch sharp replies ?
Beyond our reach, and yet within our fight,
"What envious Power has plac'd this glorious light?".
Thus, in a starry night fond children cry
For the rich spangles that adorn the sky;
Which, though they fhine for ever fixed there,
With light and influence relieve us here.
All her affections are to one inclin'd;

Her bounty and compaffion, to mankind :
To whom, while fhe fo far extends her grace,
She makes but good the promise of her face:
For mercy has, could mercy's self be seen,
No fweeter look than this propitious Queen.
Such guard, and comfort, the diftreffed find
From her large power, and from her larger mind,
That whom ill fate would ruin, it prefers;
For all the miferable are made her's.

So the fair tree, whereon the eagle builds,

Poor fheep from tempefts, and their fhepherds, fhields:

The

The royal bird poffeffes all the boughs,
But fhade and shelter to the flock allows.

Joy of our age, and safety of the next!
For which fo oft thy fertile womb is vext:
Nobly contented, for the public good,
To waste thy fpirits, and diffuse thy blood:
What vaft hopes may these islands entertain,
Where Monarchs, thus descended, are to reign !
Led by commanders of so fair a line,

Our feas no longer shall our power confine.

A brave romance who would exactly frame
First brings his knight from fome immortal dame :
And then a weapon, and a flaming shield,
Bright as his mother's eyes, he makes him wield;
None might the mother of Achilles be,

But the fair pearl, and glory of the sea :

The man † to whom great Maro gives fuch fame,
From the high bed of heavenly Venus came :
And our next Charles, whom all the stars defign
Like wonders to accomplish, fpring from thine.

THE APOLOGY OF SLEEP,

For not approaching the Lady, who can do any thing but fleep when the pleaseth.

M

Y charge it is thofe breaches to repair,

Which nature takes from forrow, toil, and care:

Reft to the limbs, and quiet, I confer

On troubled minds: but nought can add to her,

* Thetis.

† Enæas.

Whom

Whom Heaven, and her transcendent thoughts, have
Above thofe ills which wretched mortals taste. [plac'd

Bright as the deathless Gods, and happy, she
From all that may infringe delight is free :
Love at her royal feet his quiver lays,

And not his mother with more hafte obeys.
Such real pleasures, fuch true joys fufpenfe,
What dream can I prefent to recompense ?

Should I with lightning fill her awful hand,
And make the clouds feem all at her command:
Or place her in Olympus' top, a guest
Among th' Immortals, who with Nectar feast:
That power would feem, that entertainment, short
Of the true fplendor of her present court :
Where all the joys, and all the glories, are
Of three great kingdoms, fever'd from the care,
I, that of fumes and humid vapors made,
Afcending do the feat of fense invade,
No cloud in fo ferene a manfion find,
To over-caft her ever-fhining mind:

Which holds resemblance with those spotless skies,
Where flowing Nilus want of rain supplies;
That crystal heaven, where Phoebus never shrouds
His golden beams, nor wraps his face in clouds.
But what fo hard which Numbers cannot force?
So ftoops the moon, and rivers change their courfe.
The bold* Mæonian made me dare to steep

Jove's dreadful temples in the dew of fleep.