Yet on the soften'd quarry would I score For sure so well instructed are my tears, Or should I thence, hurried on viewless wing, Might think the infection of my sorrows loud Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud. 50 This subject the author finding to be above the years he had when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished. III. UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. YE flaming powers, and winged warriors bright, Burn in your sighs, and borrow Seas wept from our deep sorrow: He, who with all heaven's heraldry whilere Sore doth begin His infancy to seize! O more exceeding love, or law more just ? For we, by rightful doom remediless, And that great covenant, which we still transgress, And the full wrath beside Of vengeful justice bore for our excess; And seals obedience first, with wounding smart, Huge pangs and strong Will pierce more near his heart. IV. ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, DYING OF A COUGH. O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted, That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer, By boisterous rape the Athenian damsel got, Thereby to wipe away the infamous blot Of long uncoupled bed and childless eld, 20 ΙΟ [held. Which, 'mongst the wanton gods, a foul reproach was So, mounting up in icy-pearled car, Through middle empire of the freezing air He wander'd long, till thee he spied from far ; There ended was his quest, there ceased his care: Down he descended from his snow-soft chair, Yet thou art not inglorious in thy fate; But then transform'd him to a purple flower: Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no power! Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, 20 Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 30 Hid from the world in a low-delved tomb; Resolve me, then, O soul most surely blest 40 Oh, say me true, if thou wert mortal wight, Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof Took up, and in fit place did reinstal? Or did of late Earth's sons besiege the wall Of sheeny heaven, and thou, some goddess, fled Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head? Or wert thou that just maid, who once before 50 Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some good? Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire, To scorn the sordid world, and unto heaven aspire ? But, oh! why didst thou not stay here below бо 69 To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? But thou canst best perform that office where thou art. Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child, V. ON TIME. FLY, envious Time, till thou run out thy race; Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace; So little is our loss, So little is thy gain! For when as each thing bad thou hast entomb'd, Then long eternity shall greet our bliss With an individual kiss; And joy shall overtake us as a flood, When every thing that is sincerely good And perfectly divine, With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb, Attired with stars we shall for ever sit, IO 20 Triumphing over death, and chance, and thee, O Time! VI. AT A SOLEMN MUSIC. BLEST pair of syrens, pledges of heaven's joy, |