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Think on the mercy freed thee, think upon Rich Nature's store (which is the poet's treasure) Her virtues, graces, beauties, one by one ;

I'll spend to dress So shalt thou relish all, enjoy the whole

Your beauties, if your mine of pleasure Delights of her fair body and pure soul :

In equal thankfulness
Then boldly to the fight of love proceed;

You but unlock, so we each other bless.
Tis mercy not to pity, though she bleed.
We'll strew no nuts, but change that ancient form,
For till to morrow we'll prorogue this storm,
Which shall confound with its loud whistling noise
Her pleasing shrieks, and fan thy panting joys.


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The golden age returns;

Love's bow and quiver useless lie;

His shaft, his brand, nor wounds nor burns;

And cruelty
Is sunk to Hell : the fair shall all be kind;

Who loves shall be belov'd ; the froward mind Now you have freely given me leave to love,

To a deformed shape shall be confin'd.
What will you do?
Shall I your mirth, or passion more,

Astræa hath possest
When I begin to woo?

An earthly seat, and now remains
Will you torment, or scorn, or love me too ?

In Finch's heart; but Wentworth's breast
Each petty beauty can disdain, and I,

That guest contains :
Spite of your hate,

With her she dwells, yet hath not left the skies, Without your leave can see and die :

Nor lost her sphere; for, new-enthron'd, she cries, Dispense a nobler fate;

" I know no Heaven but fair Wentworth's eyes." T is easy to destroy, you may create. Then give me leave to love, and love me too;

Not with design
To raise, as Love's curst rebels do,
When puling poets whine,

TO A. D.
Fame to their beauty from their blubber'd eyn.

UNREASONABLY DISTRUSTFUL OF HER OWN BEAUTY, Grief is a puddle, and reflects not clear Your beauty's rays :

Fair Doris, break thy glass; it hath perplext, Joys are pure streams, your eyes appear With a dark comment, Beauty's clearest text ; Sullen in sadder lays;

It hath not told thy face's story true,
In cheerful numbers they shine bright with praise; But brought false copies to thy jealous view:

No colour, feature, lovely air, or grace,
Which shall not mention, to express you fair,

That ever yet adorn'd a beauteous face,
Wounds, flames, and darts,

But thou may'st read in thive, or justly doubt, Storms in your brow, nets in your hair,

Thy glass hath summon'd been to leave it out. Suborning all your parts, Or to betray or torture captive hearts. I'll make your eyes like morning suns appear, "This was written on the occasion of lord chiet As mild and fair;

justice Finch paying his addresses to lady Anne Your brow, as crystal smooth and clear; Wentworth, the favourite lady whose marriage And your dissheveld hair

(with lord Lovelace) our poet celebrates in another Shall flow like a calm region of the air.

part of his works.

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But if it offer to thy nice survey

You are afflicted that you are not fair, A spot, a stain, a blemish or decay,

And I as much torinented that you are : It not belongs to thee; the treacherons light What I admire you scorn; what I love, hate; Or faithless stone abuse thy credulous sight. Through different faiths both share an equal fate: Perhaps the magic of thy face hath wrought Fast to the truth, which you recounce, I stick; Upon th’ enchanted crystal, and so brought I die a martyr, you an heretic. Fantastic shadows to delude thine eyes With airy, repercussive sorceries: Or else th' enamoured image pines away For love of the fair object, and so may Wax pale and wan; and though the substance grow

TO MY FRIEND, G, N. Lively and fresh, that may coasuine with woe. Give thou no faith to the false specular stone, But let thy beauties by th' effects be known: Look, sweetest Doris, on my love-sick heart; I BREATHE, sweet Ghibs, the temperate air of Wrest, In that true mirror see how fair thou art

Where I, no more with raging storms opprést, There, by Love's never-erring pencil drawn, Wear the cold nights out by the bauks of Treed, Shalt thou behold thy face, like th' early dawn, On the bleak mountains where fierce tempests breed, Shoot through the shady covert of thy hair, And everlasting winter dwells; where mild Enam’ling and perfuming the calm air

Pavonins and the vernal winds, exild, With pearls and roses, till thy suns display Did never spread their wings: but the wild north Their Jids, and let out the imprison'd day.

Brings sterile fern, thistles, and brambles fortb. Whilst Delphic priests (enlighten'd by their theme) Here, steep'd in balmy dew, the pregnant Earth In amorous numbers court thy golden beam, Sends from her teeming womb a flow'ry birth; And from Love's altars clouds of sighs arise And, cherish'd with the warm Sun's quick’ning heat, In smoking incense to adore thine eyes:

Her porous bosom doth rich odours sweat; If then love flow from beauty as th' effect, Whose perfumes through the ambient air diffuse How canst thou the resistless cause suspect ? Such native aromatics, as we use Who would not brand that fool that should contend, No foreign gums, nor essence fetch'd from far, There were no fire where smoke and flames ascend? No volatile spirits, nor compounds that are Distrust is worse than scorn; not to believe Adulterate ; but, at Nature's cheap expense, My harms, is greater wrong than not to grieve. With far more genuine sweets refresh the sense. What cure can for my fest'ring sore be found, Such pure and uncompounded beauties bless Whilst thou heliev'st thy beauty cannot wound? This mansion with an useful comeliness Such humble thoughts more cruel tyrants prope, Devoid of art; for here the architect Than all the pride that e'er usurp'd in love ; Did not with curious skill a pile erect For Beauty's herald here denounceth war,

Of carved marble, touch, or prophecy, There her false spies betray me to a snare. But built a house for hospitality. If fire disguis'd in balls of snow were hurld, No sumptuous chimney-piece of shining stone It unsuspected might consume the world :

Invites the stranger's eye to gaze upon, Where our prevention ends, danger begins; And coldly entertain his sight; but clear So wolves in sheeps', lions in asses' skins

And cheerful flames cherish and warm him here. Might far more mischief work, because less fear'd ; | No Doric nor Corinthian pillars grace Those, the whole flock, these might kill all the herd. With imagery this structure's naked face: Appear then as thou art, break through this cloud, The lord and lady of this place delight Confess thy beauty, though thou thence grow proud: Rather to be in act, than seem, in sight. Be fair, though scornful; rather let me find Instead of statues to adorn their wall, Thee cruel, than thus mild and more unkind. They throng with living men their merry ball, Thy cruelty doth only me defy,

Where, at large tables fill'd with wholsome meats, But these dull thoughts thee to thyself deny. The servant, tenant, and kind neighbour eats : Whether thou mean to barter or bestow

Some of that rank, spun of a finer tbread, Thyself, 't is fit thou thine own value kuow. Are with the women, steward, and chaplain, fed I will not cheat thee of thyself, nor pay

With daintier cates; others of better note, Less for thee than thou’rt worth; thou shalt not say, whom wealth, parts, office, or the berald's coat That is but brittle glass which I have found Have sever'd from the common, freely sit By strict inquiry a firm diamond.

At the lord's table, whose spread sides admit I'll trade with no such Ind an fool as sells

A large access of friends to fill those seats Gold, pearls, and precious stones, for beads and bells'; of his capacious sickle, fillid with meats Nor will I take a present from your hand,

Of choicest relish, till his oaken back Which you or prize not or not understand.

Under the load of pild-up dishes crack. It not endears your bounty that I do

Nor think, because our pyramids and high Esteem your gift, unless you do so too.

Exalted turrets threaten not the sky, You undervalue me, when you bestow

That therefore Wrest of narrowness complains, On me what you nor care for, nor yet know. Or straighten'd walls; for she more numerous trains No, lovely Doris, change thy thoughts, and be Of noble guests daily receives, and those In love first with thyself, and then with me. Can with far more conveniency dispose,

Than prouder piles, where the vain builder spent Alluding to the ignorance of the Indian tribes More cost in outward gay embellishinent in South America, who used to barter their riches Than real vse; which was the sole design for the toys and trinkets of the Europeans. Of our contriver, who made things not fine,


But fit for service. Amalthea's horn ?
Of plenty is not in effigy worn

Without the gate; but she within the door
Empties her free and unexhausted store.

Nor crown'd with wheaten wreaths doth Ceres

Look back, old Janus, and survey, In stone, with a crook'd sickle in her hand :

From Time's birth till this new-born day, Nor on a marble tun, his face besmear'd

All the successful seasons bound With grapes, is curld, uncizard Bacchus rear'd.

With laurel wreaths, and trophies crown'd; We offer not, in emblems, to the eyes,

Turn o'er the anuals past, and, where But to the taste, those useful deities:

Happy auspicious days appear,

Mark'd with the whiter stone that cast
We press the juicy god, and quaff his blood,
And grind the yellow goddess into food.

On the dark brow of th' ages past
Yet we decline not all the work of Art;

A dazz'ling lustre, let them shine But where more bounteous Nature bears a part,

In this succeeding circle's twine, And guides her handmaid, if she but dispense

Till it be round with glories spread; Fit matter, she with care and diligence

Then with it crown our Charles his head, Employs her skill; for where the neighbour source

That we th’ ensuing year may call Pours forth her waters, she directs her course,

One great continu'd festival. And entertains the flowing streams in deep

Fresh joys in varied forms apply And spacious channels, where they slowly creep

To each distinct captivity. In snaky windings, as the shelving ground

Season his cares by day with nights Leads them in circles, till they twice surround

Crown'd with all conjugal delights. This island mansion, which, i th' centre plac'd,

May the choice beauties that inflame Is with a double crystal Hearen embracd;

His royal breast be still the same, In which our wat’ry constellations float,

And he still think them such, since more Our fishes, swans, our waterman and boat,

Thou canst not give from Nature's store: Envy'd by those above, which wish to slake

Then as a father let him be Their star-burnt liinbs in our refreshing lake;

With numerous issue blest, and see But they stick fast nail'J to the barren sphere,

The fair and god-like off-spring grown Whilst our increase, in fertile waters here,

From budding stars to suns full blown. Disport, and wander freely where they please

Circle with peaceful olive boughs Within the circuit of our narrow seas.

And conquering bays his regal brows: With various trees we fringe the water's brink,

Let his strong virtues overcome, Whose thirsty roots the soaking moisture drink,

And bring him bloodless trophies home: And whose extended boughs in equal ranks

Strew all the pavements where he treads Yield fruit, and shade, and beauty to the banks.

With loyal hearts or rebels' heads: On this side young Vertumnus sits, and courts

But, Byfront', open thou no more,
His ruddy-cheek'd Pomona; Zephyr sports

In bis blest reign, the temple door.
On th' other with lov'd Flora, yielding there
Sweets for the smell, sweets for the palate here.
But did you taste the high and mighty drink
Which from that luscious fountain flows, you 'd

The god of wine did his plump clusters bring, Thou great commandress, that dost move
And crush the Falern ' grape into our spring; Thy sceptre o'er the crown of Love,
Or else, disguis'd in wat’ry robes, did swim

And through his empire, with the awe
To Ceres' bed, and make her beg of him,

Of thy chaste beams, dost give the law;
Begetting so himself on her: for know,

From his profaner altars we
Our vintage here in March doth nothing owe Turn to adore thy deity.
To theirs in autumn; but our fire boils here He oply can wild lust provoke;
As lasty liquor as the Sun makes there,

Thou those impurer flames canst choke:
Thus I enjoy myself, and taste the fruit

And where he scatters looser fires,
Of this blest place; whilst, toil'd in the pursuit Thou turn'st them into chaste desires:
Of bucks and stags, th' emblem of war, you His kingdom knows no rule but this,

“ Whatever pleaseth lawful is." To keep the memory of our arms alive.

Thy sacred lord shows us the path
Of modesty and constant faith,

Which makes the rude male satisfy'd
* Amalthea was the daughter of Melissus, king with one fair female by his side;
of Crete. She is fabled to bave fed Jupiter, while | Doth either sex to each unite,
an infant, with the milk of a goat, whose horn the And form love's pure hermaphrodite.
god afterwards made ber a present of, endued with To this thy faith behold the wild
this virtue, that whoever possessed it, should have Satyr already reconcild,
every thing they wished for. Hence it was called
the born of plenty.

* The grape of Palernus is celebrated by all an- Janus, who was painted with two faces. He tiquity. It was produced from vines of a peculiar was worshipped as a god, and had a temple built strength and flavour which grew in the Palernian to him: in time of peace it was shut; in time of fields in Campania.

war it was open.


Who from the influence of thinc eye

Since, having gather'd strength, be dares prefer Hath suck'd the deep divinity.

His steps into the publick theatre, O free them then, that they may teach

The world; 'where he despairs not but to find The centaur and the horseman; preach

A doom from men more able, not less kind. To beasts and birds, sweetly to rest

I but his usher am, yet if my word Each in his proper lare and nest :

May pass, I dare be bound be will afford They shall convey it to the flood,

Things must deserve a welcome, if well known, Till there thy law be understood.

Such as best writers would have wish'd their own So shalt thou, with thy pregnant fire,

You shall observe his words in order meet, The water, earth, and air inspire.

And, softly stealing on with equal feet,
Slide into even numbers with such grace
As each word bad been moulded for that place.

You shall perceive an amorous passion spun

Into so smooth a web, as had the Sun,

When he pursu'd the swiftly-flying maid!,

Courted her in such language, she had stay'd. Give Lucinda pearl nor stone,

A love so well exprest must be the same Lend them light who else have none:

The author felt himself from his fair flame. Let her beauty shine alone.

The whole plot doth alike itself disclose

Through the five acts, as doth the lock that goes Gums nor spice bring from the east,

With letters; for till every one be known, For the phenix in her breast

The lock 's as fast as if you had found none; Builds his funeral pile and nest.

And where his sportive Muse doth draw a thread

Of mirth, chaste matrons may not blush to read. No rich 'tire thou canst invent

Thus have I thought it fitter to reveal Shall to grace her form be sent;

My want of art, dear friend, than to conceal She adorns all ornament.

My love. It did appear I did not mean Give her nothing, but restore

So to commend thy well-wrought comic scene, Those sweet smiles which heretofore

As men might judge my aim rather to be, In her cheerful eyes she wore.

To gain praise to myself, than give it thee;

Though I can give thee none, but, what thou hast Drive those envious clouds away,

Desery'd, and what must my faint breath out-laste Veils that have o'ercast my day,

Yet was this garment (though I skilless be And eclips'd her brighter ray.

To take thy measure) only made for thee;

And if it prove too scant, 't is 'cause the stuff Let the royal Goth inow down

Nature allow'd me was not large enough.
This year's harvest with bis own
Sword, and spare Lucinda's frown.
Janus, if, when next I trace
Those sweet lines, I in her face
Read the charter of my grace ;

Then, from bright Apollo's tree,

MASTER GEORGE SANDS', Such a garland wreath'd shall be

ON HIS TRANSLATION OF THE PSALMS. As shall crown both her and thee.


PRESS not to the choir, nor dare I greet
The holy place with iny unhallowed feet;

My unwasht Muse pollutes not thiogs divine,

Nor mingles her profaner notes with thine:

Here, humbly waiting at the porch, she stays,

And with glad ears sucks in thy sacred lays.

So, devout penitents of old were wont,
The Heir being born, was in his tender age

Some without door, and some beneath the font, Rock'd in a cradle of a private stage,

To stand and hear the church's liturgies, Where, lifted up by many a willing hand,

Yet not assist the solemn exercise:
The child did from the first day fairly stand.

Sufficeth her, that she a lay-place gain,
To trim thy vestments, or but bear thy train:

Though nor in tune, uor wing, she reach thy lark, ! This was Anne, daughter of Edward lord Her lyric feet may dance before the ark. Howard of Escrick, and wife of Charles Howard, first earl of Carlisle.

2 These complimentary verses must be consi- 3 Alludes to the fable of Apollo and Daphne. dered rather as a tribute to friendship' than to · This was Mr. George Sands, son of Edwin arcbgenius; for though May was a competitor with sir bishop of York. Besides the Translation of the Willianı D'Avenant for the royal laurel, his abili- Psalms here mentioned, (which was the delight and ties were much less splendid. He translated the amusement of Charles L. during his imprisonment Georgics of Virgil and Lucan's Pharsalia, and was in the Isle of Wight,) he translated Ovid's Metathe historian of the Oliverian parliament. These morphoses and part of Virgil's Æneis. Drydeu verses were written in 1620.

calls him the best versifier of his time.

Who knows, but that her wand'ring eyes that run, | Requires a satyr. What star guides the soul
Now hunting glow-worms, may adore the Sun: Of these our froward times, that dare controul,
A pure flame may, shot by Almighty pow'r Yet dare not learn to judge? When didst thou fly
Into her breast, the earthly fame devour:

From bence, clear, candid Ingenuity?
My eyes in penitential dew may steep

I have beheld, when perch'd on the smooth brow That brine, which they for sensual love did weep. Of a fair modest troop, thou didst allow So (though 'gainst Nature's course) fire may be Applause to slighter works; but then the weak quench'd

Spectator gave the knowing leave to speak. With fire, and water be with water drench'd ; Now noise prevails, and he is tax'd for drowth Perbaps my restless soul, tir'd with pursuit

Of wit, that with the cry spends not his mouth. Of mortal beauty, seeking without fruit

Yet ask him reason why he did not like; Contentment there, which hath not, when enjoy'd, Him, why he did; their ignorance will strike Quench'd all her thirst, nor satisfy'd, though cloy'd; Thy soul with scorn and pity: mark the places Weary of her vain search below, above

Provoke their smiles, frowns, or distorted faces, In the first fair may find th' immortal love, When they admire, nod, shake the head, they 'll be Prompted by thy example then, no more

A scene of mirth, a double comedy. In moulds of clay will i my God adore ;

But thy strong fancies (raptures of the brain, But tear those idols from my heart, and write Drest in poetic flames) they entertain What his blest spirit, not fond love, shall indite; As a bold, impious reach; for they 'll still slight Then I no more shall court the verdant bay, All that exceeds Red Bull' and Cockpit flight. But the dry leafless trunk on Golgotha;

These are the men in crouded heaps that throng And rather strive to gain from thence one thorn, To that adulterate stage, where not a tongue Chan all the fourishing wreaths by laureats worn. Of th' untun'd kennel can a line repeat

Of serious sense, but the lips meet like meat;
Whilst the true brood of actors, that alone

Keep nat’ral, unstrain'd Action in her throne,

Behold their benches bare, though they rehearse HENRY LORD CARY OF LEPINGTON,

The terser Beaumont's or great Jonson's verse.

Repine not thou then, since this churlish fate UPON HIS TRANSLATION OF MALVEZZI. Rules not the stage alone; perhaps the state

Hath felt this rancour, where men great and good MY LORD,

Have by the rabble been misunderstood. x every trivial work, 't is known,

So was thy play; whose clear, yet lofty strain, ‘rapslators must be masters of their own

Wise men, that govern fate, shall entertain. and of their author's language; but your task \ greater latitude of skill did ask; 'or your Malvezzi first requir'd a man Co teach him speak vulgar Italian:

TO THE READER Lis matter's so sublime, so new his phrase, o far above the stile of Beinbo's days,

OF MR. WILLIAM D'AVENANT'S PLAY'. Old Varchie's rules, or what the Trusca 'yet It hath been said of old, that plays are feasts, 'or current Truscan mintage will admit,

Poets the cooks, and the spectators guests; is I believe your marquis by a good

The actors, waiters: from this simile, 'art of his natives hardly understood.

Some have deriv'd an unsafe liberty 'ou must expect no happier fate; 't is true,

To use their judgments as their tastes, which chuse, le is of noble birth, of nobler you :

Without controul, this dish, and that refuse : w nor your thoughts nor words fit common ears;

But wit allows not this large privilege, le writes, and you translate, both to your peers.

Either you must confess or feel its edge;
Nor shall you make a current inference,

If you transfer your reason to your sense:

3 After the restoration, there were two companies

of players formed, one under the title of the king's PON HIS EXCELLENT PLAY, THE JUST ITALIAN.

servants, the other under that of the duke's com

pany, both by patent from the crown; the first 'll not mispend in praise the narrow room

granted to Mr. Killigrew, and the latter to sir borrow in this leaf; the garlands bloom

William D'Avenant. The king's servants acted From thine own seeds, that crown each glorious page first at the Red Bull in St. John's Street, and afterOf thy triumphant work; the sullen age

wards at the Cockpit in Drury Lane; to which place

our poet here alludes. It seems, by the verses 1 Tuscany, famous for speaking the Italian lan- before us, that though Killigrew's company was uage in its greatest purity.

much inferior to D'Avenant's, it was more success2 This gentleman, who was supposed, but with ful; though the company of the latter, who perhe greatest improbability, to be a natural son of formed at the duke's theatre in Lincoln-inn-Fields, -hakspeare, was one of the first poets of his time. acted the pieces of Shakspeare, Jonson, Beauinont, t was he who barmonized the stage. He first in- and were headed by the celebrated Betterton. roduced scenery, and the order and decorum of the 1 The Just Italian, which did not meet with so French theatre, upon the British one. He succeeded much success as it ought to have bad from a polite en Jonson as poet-laureat to Charles.


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