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OW foon hath time the futtle theef of youth, Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth yeer!
My hasting dayes flie on with full career, But my late spring no bud or bloffom fhew'th. Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, That I to manhood am arriv'd so near,
And inward ripenes doth much less appear, That som more timely-happy spirits indu'th. Yet be it lefs or more, or foon or flow,
It shall be still in ftricteft measure eev'n, To that fame lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of All is, if I have grace to use it so, As ever in my great task Masters eye.
APTAIN or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,
If deed of honour did thee ever please,
He can requite thee, for he knows the charms That call Fame on fuch gentle acts as these, And he can spred thy Name o're Lands and Seas, What ever clime the Suns bright circle warms. Lift not thy spear against the Muses Bowre,
The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Towre Went to the ground: And the repeated air Of fad Electra's Poet had the power
To fave th' Athenian Walls from ruine bare.
ADY that in the prime of earliest youth, Wifely haft fhun'd the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently feen, That labour up the Hill of heav'nly Truth, The better part with Mary and with Ruth,
Chofen thou haft, and they that overween, And at thy growing vertues fret their spleen, No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. Thy care is fixt and zealously attends
To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light, And Hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be fure [friends Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feaftfull Paffes to blifs at the mid hour of night, Haft gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and
AUGHTER to that good Earl, once President Of Englands Counsel, and her Treasury, Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee. And left them both, more in himself content, Till the fad breaking of that Parlament Broke him, as that dishonest victory At Charonea, fatal to liberty
Kill'd with report that Old man eloquent, Though later born, then to have known the dayes Wherin Father flourisht, yet by you, Madam, me thinks I fee him living yet; So well your words his noble vertues praise, That all both judge you to relate them true, And to poffefs them, Honour'd Margaret.
BOOK was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon ; And wov❜n close, both matter, form and stile; The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while, Numbring good intellects; now seldom por❜d on. Cries the stall-reader, blefs us! what a word on
A title page is this! and fome in file
Stand fpelling fals, while one might walk to MileEnd Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp? [fleek Those rugged names to our like mouths grow That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek, Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp; When thou taught'ft Cambridge, and King Edward Greek.
XII. On the fame.
DID but prompt the age to quit their cloggs By the known rules of antient libertie, When strait a barbarous noise environs me Of Owles and Cuckoes, Affes, Apes and Doggs. As when thofe Hinds that were transform'd to Raild at Latona's twin-born progenie [Froggs Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee. But this is got by cafting Pearl to Hoggs; That bawle for freedom in their fenceless mood, And still revolt when truth would fet them free. Licence they mean when they cry libertie;
For who loves that, must first be wife and good; But from that mark how far they roave we fee For all this waft of wealth, and lofs of blood.
XIII. To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.
ARRY whofe tuneful and well measur'd Song First taught our English Musick how to span Words with just note and accent, not to scan
With Midas Ears, committing fhort and long; Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, With praise enough for Envy to look wan; To after age thou shalt be writ the man,
That with smooth aire couldft humor beft our
Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must send her wing
WHEN Faith and Love which parted from
Had ripen'd thy just foul to dwell with God,
Thy Works and Alms and all thy good Endeavour
And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, And speak the truth of thee on glorious Theams Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams.