On the Picture of a F AIR

A

YOUTH,

Taken after he was Dead.

S gather'd flowers, while their wounds are new, Look gay and fresh, as on the stalk they grew; Torn from the root that nourish'd them a while (Not taking notice of their fate) they fmile; And, in the hand which rudely pluck'd them, show Fairer than those that to their autumn grow:

So love and beauty still that visage grace :

Death cannot fright them from their wonted place.
Alive, the hand of crooked Age had marr'd
Thofe lovely features, which cold Death has fpar'd.
No wonder then he sped in love so well,
When his high paffion he had breath to tell;
When that accomplish'd soul, in this fair frame,
No business had, but to perfuade that dame;
Whofe mutual love advanc'd the youth fo high,
That, but to heaven, he could no higher fly.

On a BREDE of divers Colours, woven by Four Ladies.

WICE twenty flender virgin-fingers twine

Tw

This curious web, where all their fancies shine:
As nature them, fo they this fhade have wrought;
Soft as their hands, and various as their thought.
Not Juno's bird, when, his fair train dis-spread,
He wooes the female to his painted bed ;

No, not the bow, which fo adorns the skies,
So glorious is, or boasts fo many dyes.

A

TO MY

PANEGYRIC

LORD

PROTECTOR,

Of the prefent Greatness, and joint Interest,
of his HIGHNESS and this Nation.

W

HILE with a ftrong, and yet a gentle, hand,
You bridle faction, and our hearts command;

Protect us from ourfelves, and from the foe,
Make us unite, and make us conquer too :

Let partial spirits still aloud complain :
Think themselves injur'd that they cannot reign:
And own no liberty, but where they may
Without controul upon their fellows prey.

Above the waves as Neptune fhew'd his face
To chide the winds, and save the Trojan race :
So has your Highness, rais'd above the rest,
Storms of ambition, toffing us, represt.

Your drooping country, torn with civil hate,
Reftor'd by you, is made a glorious state;
The feat of empire, where the Irish come,
And the unwilling Scots, to fetch their doom.

all nations greet,

The fea's our own: and now,
With bending fails, each veffel of our fleet:

Your power extends as far as winds can blow,
Or fwelling fails upon the globe may go.

Heaven (that hath plac'd this island to give law,
To balance Europe, and her states to awe)
In this conjunction doth on Britain smile
The greatest Leader, and the greatest Isle!
Whether this portion of the world were rent,
By the rude ocean, from the continent;
Or thus created; it was fure defign'd
To be the facred refuge of mankind.

Hither th' oppreffed fhall henceforth resort,
Juftice to crave, and fuccour, at your Court;
And then your Highness, not for ours alone,
But for the world's Protector fhall be known.
Fame, fwifter than your winged navy, flies
Through every land that near the ocean lies;
Sounding your name, and telling dreadful news
To all that piracy and rapine use.

With fuch a Chief the meanest nation bleft,
Might hope to lift her head above the reft:
What may be thought impoffible to do
By us, embraced by the Sea and You?

Lords of the world's great wafte, the ocean, we
Whole forefts fend to reign upon the fea;
And every coaft may trouble, or relieve:
But none can visit us without your leave.
Angels, and we, have this prerogative,
That none can at our happy feats arrive:
While we defcend at pleafure, to invade
The bad with vengeance, and the good to aid.

Our little world, the image of the great,

Like that, amidst the boundlefs ocean fet,
Of her own growth hath all that nature craves;
And all that 's rare, as tribute from the waves.
As Egypt does not on the clouds rely,

But to the Nile owes more than to the sky;
So, what our earth, and what our heaven, denies,
Our ever-constant friend, the fea, fupplies.

The taste of hot Arabia's fpice we know,
Free from the fcorching fun that makes it grow :
Without the worm, in Perfian filks we shine;
And, without planting, drink of every vine.

To dig for wealth, we weary not our limbs;
Gold, though the heaviest metal, hither fwims:
Ours is the harvest where the Indians mow,
We plough the Deep, and reap what others fow.
Things of the noblest kind our own foil breeds;
Stout are our men, and warlike are our steeds :
Rome, though her eagle through the world had flown,
Could never make this island all her own.

Here the third Edward, and the Black Prince too,
France-conquering Henry flourish'd; and now You:
For whom we stay'd, as did the Grecian state,
Till Alexander came to urge their fate.

When for more worlds the Macedonian cry'd,
He wist not Thetis in her lap did hide
Another yet a world referv'd for you,
To make more great than that he did fubdue.

He

He fafely might old troops to battle lead,
Against th' unwarlike Persian and the Mede;
Whofe hafty flight did, from a bloodless field,
More spoils than honour to the victor yield.
A race unconquer'd, by their clime made bold,
The Caledonians, arm'd with want and cold,
Have, by a fate indulgent to your fame,
Been from all ages kept for you to tame.
Whom the old Roman wall fo ill confin'd,
With a new chain of garrisons you bind:
Here foreign gold no more shall make them come;
Our English iron holds them fast at home.

They, that henceforth must be content to know
No warmer region than their hills of fnow,
May blame the fun; but must extol your grace,
Which in our fenate hath allow'd them place.
Prefer'd by conqueft, happily o'erthrown,
Falling they rife, to be with us made one:
So kind Dictators made, when they came home,
Their vanquish'd foes free citizens of Rome.

Like favour find the Irish, with like fate,
Advanc'd to be a portion of our state:
While by your valour, and your bounteous mind,
Nations divided by the fea are join'd.

Holland, to gain your friendship, is content
To be our out-guard on the Continent:
She from her fellow-provinces would go,
Rather than hazard to have you her foe.