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Then, Phyllis, fince our paffions are
Govern'd by chance; and not the care,
But fport of Heaven, which takes delight
To look upon this Parthian fight
Of Love, ftill flying, or in chase,
Never encountering face to face;
No more to Love we'll facrifice,
But to the best of Deities:

And let our hearts, which Love disjoin'd,
By his kind mother be combin'd.

To my Lord of NORTHUMBERLAND, upon the Death of his Lady.


O this great lofs a fea of tears is due:

But the whole debt not to be paid by you.
Charge not yourself with all, nor render vain
Those fhowers, the eyes of us your fervants rain.
Shall grief contract the largenefs of that heart,
In which nor fear, nor anger, has a part?

Virtue would blush, if time should boast (which dries,
Her fole child dead, the tender mother's eyes)
Your mind's relief; where reason triumphs fo
Over all paffions, that they ne'er could grow
Beyond their limits in your noble breast,
To harm another, or impeach your rest.
This we obferv'd, delighting to obey

One, who did never from his great self stray:
Whofe mild example feemed to engage

Th' obfequious feas, and teach them not to rage.


The brave Æmilius, his great charge laid down, (The force of Rome, and fate of Macedon) In his loft fons did feel the cruel stroke

Of changing Fortune; and thus highly spoke
Before Rome's people; “ We did oft implore,
"That if the heavens had any bad in ore
"For your Æmilius, they would pour that ill ̧
"On his own house, and let you flourish still."
You on the barren feas, my Lord, have spent
Whole springs; and fummers to the public lent:
Sufpended all the pleasures of your life,
And shorten'd the short joy of such a wife:
For which your country's more obliged, than
For many lives of old, lefs happy, men.
You, that have facrific'd so great a part
Of youth, and private bliss, ought to impart
Your forrow too; and give your friends a right
As well in your affliction, as delight.

Then with Æmilian-courage bear this cross,
Since public perfons only public lofs

Ought to affect. And though her form, and youth,

Her application to your will, and truth;

That noble sweetness, and that humble state,
(All snatch'd away by fuch a hafty fate!)
Might give excuse to any common breast,
With the huge weight of so just grief opprest:
Yet let no portion of your life be stain'd
With paffion, but your character maintain'd
To the last act: it is enough her stone
May honour'd be with fuperfcription

Of the fole Lady, who had power to move
The great Northumberland to grieve, and love.

To my LORD ADMIRAL, of his late Sickness and Recovery.

WITH joy like ours, the Thracian youth invades

Orpheus, returning from th' Elyfian shades;

Embrace the Hero, and his stay implore;

Make it their public fuit, he would no more
Defert them fo; and for his fpoufe's fake,
His vanish'd love, tempt the Lethean lake:
The Ladies too, the brightest of that time,
(Ambitious all his lofty bed to climb.)
Their doubtful hopes with expectation feed,
Who fhall the fair Eurydice fucceed:
Eurydice! for whom his numerous moan
Makes liftening trees and favage mountains groan :
Through all the air his founding ftrings dilate
Sorrow, like that which touch'd our hearts of late.
Your pining fickness, and your restless pain,
At once the land affecting, and the Main :
When the glad news that you were Admiral
Scarce through the nation spread, 'twas fear'd by all'
That our great Charles, whose wisdom shines in you,
Would be perplexed how to chufe a new.

So more than private was the joy, and grief,
That at the worst it gave our fouls relief,
That in our age fuch sense of virtue liv'd;
They joy'd fo juftly, and so justly griev'd.


Nature (her fairest lights eclipsed) seems
Herself to fuffer in those fharp extremes :
While not from thine alone thy blood retires,
But from thofe cheeks which all the world admires.
The ftem thus threaten'd, and the fap in thee,
Droop all the branches of that noble tree!
Their beauty they, and we our love suspend,
Nought can our wishes, fave thy health, intend.
As lilies over-charg'd with rain, they bend
Their beauteous heads, and with high Heaven contend:
Fold thee within their fnowy arms, and cry
He is too faultlefs, and too young, to die.
So like Immortals round about thee they
Sit, that they fright approaching Death away.
Who would not languish, by so fair a train
To be lamented, and restor'd again?
Or thus with-held, what hafty foul would go,
Though to the Bleft? O'er her Adonis fo
Fair Venus mourn'd, and with the precious shower
Of her warm tears cherish'd the springing flower.
The next fupport, fair hope of your great name,
And fecond pillar of that noble frame,

By loss of thee would no advantage have,
But step by step pursue thee to the grave.
relentless Fate about to end
The line, which backwards does fo far extend

And now,

That antique stock, which still the world supplies
With bravest spirits, and with brightest eyes;
Kind Phoebus interpofing, bid me fay

Such storms no more shall shake that house; but they


Like Neptune, and his fea-born Niece, fhall be
The fhining glories of the land and sea :

With courage guard, and beauty warm, our age;
And lovers fill with like poetic rage.


TAY, Phoebus, stay!


The world to which you fly so fast,

Conveying day

From us to them, can pay your hafte
With no fuch object, nor falute your rife
With no fuch wonder, as De Mornay's eyes.

Well does this prove

The error of those antique books,
Which made you move

About the world: her charming looks
Would fix your beams, and make it ever day,
Did not the rolling earth fnatch her away.

On my Lady DOROTHY SIDNEY'S Picture.


UCH was Philoclea, and fuch † Dorus' flame;

The matchlefs Sidney, that immortal frame
Of perfect beauty, on two pillars plac'd :
Not his high fancy could one pattern, grac'd
With fuch extremes of excellence, compofe;
Wonders fo diftant in one face difclofe!

* Venus. + Pamela.

Sir Philip Sidney.


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