He fees thee gentle, fair and gay,

And trufts the faithlefs April of thy May.

COWLEY.

Upon a paper written with the juice of lemon, and read by the fire:

Nothing yet in thee is feen,

But when a genial heat warms thee within,
A new-born wood of various lines there grows;
Here buds an L, and there a B,

Here fprouts a V, and there a T,
And all the flourishing letters stand in rows.

AS

COWLEY.

S they fought only for novelty, they did not much enquire whether their allufions were to things high or low, elegant or grofs; whether they compared the little to the great, or the great to the little.

Phyfick and Chirurgery for a Lover.

Gently, ah gently, madam, touch

The wound, which you yourself have made;

That pain must needs be very much,

Which makes me of your hand afraid.

Cordials of pity give me now,

For I too weak for purgings grow.

COWLEY.

The

The World and a Clock.

Mahol, th' inferior world's fantastic face,
Through all the turns of matter's maze did trace;
Great Nature's well-fet clock in pieces took;
On all the springs and finalleft wheels did look
Of life and motion; and with equal art
Made up again the whole of every part.

COWLEY.

A coal-pit has not often found its poet; but that it may not want its due honour, Cleiveland has paralleled it with the Sun :

The moderate value of our guiltless ore
Makes no man atheift, and no woman whore;
Yet why fhould hallow'd veftal's facred fhrine
Deserve more honour than a flaming mine?
These pregnant wombs of heat would fitter be
Than a few embers, for a deity.

Had he our pits, the Perfian would admire
No fun, but warm's devotion at our fire:
He'd leave the trotting whipfter, and prefer
Our profound Vulcan 'bove that

waggoner.

For wants he heat, or light? or would have

ftore

Or both? 'tis here: and what can funs give

more?

Nay, what's the fun but, in a different name,

A coal-pit rampant, or a mine on flame!

4.

Then

Then let this truth reciprocally run,

The fun's heaven's coalery, and coals our fun.

Death, a Voyage:

No family

Ere rigg'd a foul for heaven's discovery,
With whom more venturers might boldly dare
Venture their stakes, with him in joy to share.

TH

Donne.

HEIR thoughts and expreffions were fometimes grofsly abfurd, and fuch as no figures or licence can reconcile to the understanding.

A Lover neither dead nor alive:

Then down I laid my head,

Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead,

And my freed foul to a strange somewhere fled :
Ah, fottish foul, faid I,

When back to its cage again I saw it fly :
Fool to refume her broken chain!

And row her galley here again!

Fool, to that body to return

Where it condemn'd and deftin'd is to burn!

Once dead, how can it be,

Death fhould a thing so pleasant seem to thee,

That thou shouldft come to live it o'er again in

me?

COWLEY.

A Lover's

A Lover's heart, a hand grenado.

Wo to her ftubborn heart, if once mine come Into the felf-fame room,

"Twill tear and blow up all within,

Like a grenado fhot into a magazin.

Then shall Love keep the afhes, and torn parts,

Of both our broken hearts:

Shall out of both one new one make;

From her's th' allay; from mine, the metal

take.

COWLEY.

The poetical Propagation of Light:

The Prince's favour is diffus'd o'er all,

From which all fortunes, names, and natures

fall;

Then from those wombs of stars, the Bride's

bright eyes,

At every glance a conftellation flies,

And fowes the court with stars, and doth prevent In light and power, the all-ey'd firmament: First her eye kindles other ladies' eyes,

Then from their beams their jewels luftres rife; And from their jewels torches do take fire, And all is warmth, and light, and good defire.

DONNE.

THEY

THE

HEY were in very little care to clothe their notions with elegance of drefs, and therefore mifs the notice and the praise which are often gained by thofe, who think lefs, but are more diligent to adorn their thoughts.

That a mistress beloved is fairer in idea than in reality, is by Cowley thus expreffed :

Thou in my fancy doft much higher stand,
Than women can be plac'd by Nature's hand;
And I muft needs, I'm fure, a lofer be,
To change thee, as thou'rt there, for very thee.

That prayer and labour fhould co-operate, are thus taught by Donne :

In none but us, are fuch mixt engines found,
As hands of double office: for the ground
We till with them; and them to heaven we
raife;

Who prayerless labours, or without this, prays,
Doth but one half, that's none.

By the fame author, a common topick, the danger of procraftination, is thus illuftrated:

-That which I fhould have begun

In my youth's morning, now late must be done;
And I, as giddy travellers must do,