Heav'n fends, quoth I, this difcord for our good;
To warm, perhaps, but not to waste our blood:
To raise our drooping fpirits, grown the scorn
Of our proud neighbours; who e'er long shall mourn
(Though now they joy in our expected harms)
We had occafion to refume our arms.

A lion fo with felf-provoking smart,
(His rebel tail fcourging his nobler part,)
Calls up his courage; then begins to roar,
And charge his foes, who thought him mad before.

L

For drinking of HEALTHS.

ET brutes, and vegetals, that cannot think, So far as drought, and nature, urges, drink: A more indulgent mistress guides our spirits, Reason, that dares beyond our appetites : She would our care, as well as thirst, redress ; And with Divinity rewards excess. Deferted ARIADNE, thus fupply'd, Did perjur'd THESEUS' cruelty deride: BACCHUS embrac`d, from her exalted thought Banifh'd the man, her paffion, and his fault. BACCHUS and PHOEBUS are by Jove ally'd, And each by other's timely heat fupply'd: All that the grapes owe to his rip'ning fires, Is paid in Numbers which their juice infpires. Wine fills the veins, and healths are understood, To give our friends a title to our blood: Who, naming me, doth warm his courage fo, Shews for my fake what his bold hand would do.

C

SONG.

I.

HLORIS farewel! I now must go :
For if with thee I longer stay,

Thy eyes prevail upon me fo,

I fhall prove blind, and lose my way.

II. Fame

II.

Fame of thy beauty, and thy youth,
Among the reft, me hither brought :
Finding his fame fe fall fhort of truth,
Made me stay longer than I thought.

III.

For I'm engag'd by word, and oath,
A fervant to another's will:
Yet, for thy love, I'd forfeit both,
Could I be fure to keep it ftill.
IV.

But what affurance can I take?

When thou, foreknowing this abuse, For fome more worthy lover's fake, May'st leave me with so just excufe.

V.

For thou may'ft fay, 'twas not thy fault
That thou didst thus inconftant prove;
Being by my example taught

To break thy oath, to mend thy love.
VI.

No, CHLORIS, no: I will return,
And raife thy story to that height,
That ftrangers fhall at diftance burn;
And the diftruft me reprobate.

VII.

Then shall my love this doubt difplace,
And gain fuch truft, that I may come
And banquet fometimes on thy face,
But make my conftant meals at home.

Of my Lady ISABELLA playing on the lute. UCH moving founds, from fuch a careless touch! founder and we fa much

What art is this, that with fo little pains
Transports us thus, and o'er our fpirits reigns?
The trembling string about her fingers crowd,
And tell their joy for ev'ry kiss aloud :

E 2

Small

Small force there needs to make them tremble fo;
Touch'd by that hand, who would not tremble too ?
Here Love takes ftand, and while fhe charms the ear,
Empties his quiver on the lift'ning deer:
Mufic fo foftens, and difarms, the mind,
That not an arrow does refiftance find.
Thus the fair tyrant celebrates the prize,
And acts her felf the triumph of her eyes:
SO NERO once, with harp in hand, furvey'd
His flaming ROME, and as it burn'd he play'd.

To a LADY finging a Song of his compofing.
CHLORIS, yourself you fo excel,

When you vouchsafe to breathe my thought,

That, like a spirit with this spell

Of my own teaching I am caught.

That eagle's fate and mine are one,

Which, on the shaft that made him die,

Efpy'd a feather of his own,

Wherewith he wont to foar fo high. Had ECHO, with fo fweet a grace, NARCISSUS' loud complaints return'd,

Not for reflection of his face,

But of his voice, the boy had burn'd.

BE

Of Mrs. ARDEN.

EHOLD, and liften, while the Fair
Breaks in fweet founds the willing air:
And, with her own breath, fans the fire
Which her bright eyes do first inspire.
What reafon can that love controul,
Which more than one way courts the foul?
So, when a flash of light'ning falls
On our abodes, the danger calls
For human aid; which hopes the flame
To conquer, tho' from heav'n it came :
But, if the winds with that confpire,
Men strive not, but deplore the fire.

of

Of the Marriage of the DWARFS.

DESIGN, not chance, make others wive;

But nature did this match contrive:

EVE might as well have ADAM fled,
As the deny'd her little bed

To him, for whom heav'n feem'd to frame,
And measure out, this only dame.

Thrice happy is that humble pair,

Beneath the level of all care!
Over whofe heads thofe arrows fly
Of fad diftruft, and jealousy :
Secured in as high extreme,

As if the world held none but them.
To him the fairest nymphs do fhow
Like moving mountains top'd with fnow:
And ev'ry man a POLYPHEME

Does to his GALATEA feem :

None may prefume her faith to prove ;
He proffers death that proffers love.

Ah, CHLORIS! that kind nature thus
From all the world had fever'd us:
Creating for our selves us two,
As love has me for only you!

TR

LOVE'S FAREWELL.

READING the path to nobler ends,
A long farewell to love I gave :
Refolv'd my country, and my friends,
All that remain'd of me fhould have.

And this refolve no mortal dame,

None but thofe eyes could have o'erthrown:
The nymph, I dare not, need not name,
So high, fo like herself alone.

Thus the tall oak, which now aspires
Above the fear of private fires;

Grown, and defign'd, for nobler use,
Not to make warin, but build the house;
Tho' from our meaner flames fecure,
Muft that which falls from heav'n indure.

From a CHILD.

MADAM, as in fome climes the warmer fun

Makes it full fummer, e'er the spring's begun : And with ripe fruit the bending boughs can load, Before our violets dare look abroad:

So, measure not by any cominon use,

The early love your brighter eyes produce.
When lately your fair hand in woman's weed
Wrap'd my glad head, I wifh'd me fo indeed,
That hafty time might never make me grow
Out of thofe favors, you afford me now:
That I might ever fuch indulgence find;
And you not blush, or think yourself too kind.
Who now, I fear, while I thefe joys exprefs,
Begin to think how you may make them lefs:
The found of love makes your foft heart afraid,
And guard itself, tho' but a child invade
And innocently at your white breast throw
A dart as white, a ball of new-fall'n fnow.

TH

On a GIRDLE.

HAT which her flender waist confin'd,
Shall now my joyful temples bind :
No monarch but would give his crown,
His arms might do what this has done.

It was my heav'ns extremeft fphere,
The pale which held that lovely deer;
My joy, my grief, my hope, my love,
Did all within this circle move!

A narrow compafs! and yet there Dwelt all that's good, and all that's fair : Give me but what this riband bound, Take all the reft the fun goes round.

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