JO X. Of England's Council, and her Treasury, And left them both, more in himself content, 5 Kill'd with report that old man eloquent. Though later born than to have known the days Wherein your father florilh’d, yet by you, That all both judge you to relate them true, XI. certain treatises. And woven cloie, both matter, form and itile i Numb'ring good intellects; now feldon por'd on, End Green. Why is it harder Sirs than Gordon, Those rugged names to ourlikemouths grow sleek, That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp, Hated not learning worse than toad or alp, [Greek, XII. ΧΙΙ. On the fame. By the known rules of ancient liberty, Of owls and cuccoos, asses, apes and dogs: As when those kinds that were transformd to frogs Which after held the sun and moon in fee. But this is got by casting pearl to hogs ; That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, And still revolt when trutht would set them free. 10 Licence they mean when they cry Liberty ; For who loves that, must first be wise and good; Bnt from that mark how far they rove we fee For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood, XIII. Hairy, whose tuneful and well measur'd fong First taught our English music how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scani With Midas ears, committing short and long i Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, s With praise enough for envy to look wan ; To after age thou shalt be writ the man, [tongue. That with sinooth air could'st humour best our Thou honor'st verse, and verse must lend her wing To honor thee, the priest of Phcbus quire, That tun'st their happiest lines in hymn, or story. Dante shall give fame leave to let thee higher Than his Calella, whom he woo'd to sing XIV, On the religious memory of Mrs. Catharine Thom, fon, my christian friend, deceas'd 16 Decem, 2646. 3 When faith and love, which parted from thee never, Had ripend thy just soul to dwell with God, Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth sever. Thy works and alms and all thy good endevor 5 Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod; But as faith pointed with her golden rod, Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever. Love led them on, and faith who knew them beft Thy hand-maids,clad them o'erwith purple beams And azure wings, that up they few so drest, 11 Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest XV. To the Lord General FAIRFAX, Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, And all her jealous monarchs with amaze And rumors loud, that daunt remotest kings, Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings S Victory home, though new rebellions raise Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays Her broken league to imp their ferpent wings. (For what can war, but endless war ftill breed?) And And public faith cleard from the shameful brand Of public fraud. In vain doth valor bleed, XVI. Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud Not of war only, but detractions rude, To peace and truth thy glorious way haft ploughid, And on the neck of crowned fortune proud Haft rear'd God's trophies, and his work pursued, While Darwen stream with blood of Scots imbrued, And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, And Worcester's laureat wreath. Yet much remains To conquer ftill ; peace hath her victories No less renown'd than war : new foes arise Threatning to bind our fouls with secular chains : Help us to save free conscience from the paw Of hireling wolves, whose gospel is their mas. 10 XVII. Vane, young in' years, but in sage counsel old, Than whom a better senator ne'er held The fierce Epirot and the African bold, S The drift of hollow states hard to be fpellid, Then to advife how war may best upheld Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, In all her equipage: besides to know Both fpiritual pow'r and civil, what each means, so What What severseach, thou hast learn'd, which few have The bounds of either sword to thee we owe: [done: Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans XVIII. Svenge, O Lord, thy ffaughter'd saints, whose bones Lie fcatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold When all our fathers worshipt stocks and stones, Forget not : in thy book record their groans 5 Who were thy theçp, and in their ancient fold Slain by the blaody Piemontese that rollid Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and ashes fow 19 D'er all th' Italian fields, where still doth fway The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way Early may fly the Babylonian woe, XIX. When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul more bent To ferve therewith my Maker, and present S My true account, left he returning chide; I fondly ask : But patience to prevent Eithes |