VENUS.

he måze of fools, thou shalt no treasure spend,
by charge to immortality shall tend;
aise palacés, and temples vaulted high;
ivers o'erarch; of hospitality

The Acidalian queen amidst thy bays nd sciences the ruin'd inns restore;

Shall twine her myrtles, grant thee pleasant days; Vith walls and ports encircle Neptune's shore; She did make clear thy house, and, with her light, o new-found worlds thy fleets make hold their Of churlish stars put back the dismal spight; course,

The Hymenean bed fair brood shall grace, nd find of Canada the unknown source ;

Which on the Earth continue shall their race; 'eople those lands which pass Arabian fields While Flora's treasure shall the meads endear; a fragrant woods, and musk wbich zephyr yields. While sweet Pomona rose-cheek'd fruits shall bear; 'hou, fear'd of none, shalt not thy people fear, While Phæbus' beams her brother's emulates : 'hy people's love thy greatness shall up-rear: Thus Heavens decree, so have ordain'd the Fates. till rigour shall not shine, and mercy lower ; Vbat love can do, thou shalt not do by power ; Jew and vast taxes thou shalt not extort,

MERCURY. vad heavy those thy bounty should support; Thou shalt not strike the hinge nor master-beam

GREAT Atlas' nephew shall the works of peace, Df thine estate, but errours in the same,

The springs of plenty, tillage, trade, increase ; By harmless justice, graciously reform;

And arts, in time's gulphs lost, again restore Delighting more in calm than roaring storm,

To their perfection; nay, tind many more, Thou shalt govern in peace, as did thy sire; More perfect artists : Cyclops in their forge Keep safe thine own, and kingdoms new acquire

Shall mould those brazen Typhons, which disgorgo Beyond Alcides' pillars, and those bounds

From their hard bowels metal, flame, and smoke, Vhere Alexander gain'd the eastern crowns, Muffling the air up in a sable cloke. Till thou the greatest be among the greats: Geryons, harpies, dragons, sphinges strange, Thus Heavens ordain, so have decreed the Fates. Wheel, where in spacious gires the fume doth range;

The sea shrinks at the blow, shake doth the ground,

The world's vast chambers doth the sound rebound; MARS.

The Stygian porter leaveth off to bark, Son of the lion ! thou of loathsome bands

Black Jove, appallid, doth shroud him in the dark; Shalt free the Earth, and whate'er thee with Many a Typhis, in adventures toss'd,

By new-found skill shall many a maiden coast stands

With thy sail-winged Argoses find out,
Thy noble paws shall tear; the god of Thrace
Shall be thy second; and before thy face,

Which, like the Sun, shall run the Earth about; To Truth and Justice whilst thou trophies rears,

And far beyond his paths score wavy ways,

To Cathay's lands by Hyperborean seas;
Armies shall fall dismay'd with panic fears.

He shall endue thee, both in peace and war,
As when Aurora in sky's azure lists
Makes shadows vanish, doth disperse the mists,

With'wisdom, which than strength is better far;

Wealth, honour, arms, and arts shall grace thy states: And in a twinkling with her opal light Night's horrours checketh, putting stars to flight:

Thus Heavens ordain, so do decree the Fates. More to inflame thee to this noble task, To thee he here resigns his sword and casque.

THE MOON. A wall of flying castles, armed pines, Shall bridge thy sea; like Heaven with steel that | how the fair queen with the golden maids, shines

The sun of night, thy happy fortunes aids! To aid Earth's tenants by foul yokes opprest, Though turban'd princes for a badge her wear, And fill with fears the great king of the west: To them she wains, to thee would full appear; To thee already Victory displays

Her hand-maid Thetis daily walks the round Her garlands twin'd with olive, oak, and bays; About thy Delos, that no force it wound; Thy triumphs finish shall all old debates:

Then when thou left'st it, and abroad didst stray, Thus Heavens decree, so have ordain'd the Fates.

Dear pilgrim, she did strew with flowers thy way;
And, turning foreign force and counsel vain,

Thy guard and guide return'd thee home again;
SUN.

To thee she kingdoms, years, bliss did divine,

Quailing Medusa's grim snakes with her shine. Wealth, wisdom, glory, pleasure, stoutest hearts,

Beneath thy reign Discord (fell mischief's forge, Religion, laws, Hyperion imparts

The bane of people, state and kingdom's scourge,) To thy just reign, which shall far, far surpass Of emperors, kings, the best that ever was: Pale Envy (with the cockatrice's eye, Look how he dims the stars; thy glories' rays

Which seeing kills, but seen doth forth with die,)

Malice, Deceit, Rebellion, Impudence, So darken shall the lustre of these days :

Beyond the Garamants shall pack them hence, For in fair Virtue's zodiac thou shalt run, And in the Heaven of worthies be the Sun.

With every monster that thy glory hates :

Thus Heavens decree, so have ordain'd the Fates.
No more contemn'd shall hapless Learning lie;
The maids of Pindus shall be raised high;
For bay and ivy which their brows enroll’d,

ENDYMION.
Thou shalt 'em deck with gems and shining gold;
Thou open shalt Parnassus' crystal gates;

Tyat heretofore to thy heroic mind
Thus Heavens ordain, so do decree the fates. Hopes did not answer as they were design'd,

A

O do not think it strange: times were not come, Why should not he, since of more pure a frame,
And these fair stars had not pronounc'd their doom. Return to us again, and be the same ?
The Destinies did on that day attend,

But, wretch! what wish I ? to the winds I send When on this northeru region thon shouldst lend These plaints and pray'rs: Destinies cannot lend Thy cheerful presence, and, charg'd with renown,

Thee more of time, nor Heavens consent will thus Set on thy brows the Caledonian crown.

Thou leave their starry world to dwell with us; Thy virtues now thy just desire shall grace,

Yet shall they not thee keep amidst their spheres Stem chance shall change, and to desert give place. Without these lamentations and tears. Let this be known to all the Fates admit

Thou wast all virtue, courtesy, and worth ; To their grave counsel, and to every wit

And, as Sun's light is in the Moon set forth, That courts Heaven's inside: this let Sybils know, World's supreme excellence in the did shine: And those mad Corybants who dance and glow

Nor, though eclipsed now, shalt thou decline, On Dindimus' bigh tops with frantic fire :

But in our memories live, wbile dolphins streams Let this be knowu to all Apollo's choir,

Shall haunt, while eaglets stare on Titan's beams, And people: let it not be hid from you,

Whilst swans upon their crystal tombs shall sing, What mountains noise, and floods proclaim as true. Whilst violets with purple paint the spring. Wherever fame abroad his praise shall ring, A gentler shepherd docks did never feed All shall observe, and serve this blessed king. On Albion's bills, nur sing to oaten reed.

While what she found in thee my Muse would blaze, The end of king Charles's entertainment Grief doth distract her, and cut short thy praise. at Fdinburgh, 1633.

How oft haye we, environ'd by the throng
Of tedious swains, the cooler shades among,
Contemn'd Earth's glow-worm greatness, and the
Of Fortune scorned, deeming it disgrace

(chace To court inconstancy! How oft have we

Some Chloris' name grav'o in each virgin tree ;
PASTORAL ELEGY

And, finding favours fading, the next day

What we had carr'd we did deface away.
ON THE DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM ALEXANDER. Woful remembrance! Nor time nor place

Of thy abodement shadows any trace;
In sweetest prime and blooming of his age, But there to me thou shin'st: late glad desires,
Dear Alcon, ravish'd from this mortal stage, And ye once roses, how are ye turn'd briars!
The shepherds mourn’d, as they bim lov'd before. Contentments passed, and of pleasures chief,
Among the rout, bim Idmon did deplore;

Now are ye frightful horrours, hells of grief!
Idmon, who, whether Sun in east did rise,

When from thy native soil love had thee driven, Or dive in west, pour'd torrents from his eyes (Thy safe return prefigurating) a Hearen Of liquid crystal; under hawthorn shade,

of Hattering hopes did in my fancy move; At last to trees and flocks this plaint he made : Then little dreaming it should atoms prore. “ Alcon ! delight of Heaven, desire of Earth, These groves preserve will I, these loved woods, Off-spring of Phæbus, and the Muses' birth, These orchards rich with fruits, with fish these The Graces' darling, Adon of our plains,

floods,
Flame of the fairest nymphs the Earth sustains ! My Alcon will return, and once again
What pow'r of thee bath us bereft? what fate, His chosen exiles he will entertain;
By thy untimely fall, would ruinate

The populous city holds him, amongst harms
Our hopes ? o Death! what treasure in one hour Of some fierce Cyclops, Circe's stronger charms.
Hast thou dispersed ! how dost tbon devour “These banks," said i," he visit will, and streams;
What we on Earth hold dearest! All things good, These silent shades, ne'er kiss'd by courting beams,
'Too envious Heavens, how blast ye in the bud ! Far, far, off I will meet him, and I first
The corn the greedy reapers cut not down

Shall him approaching know, and first be blest
Before the fields with golden ears it crown; With his aspect; I first shall hear his voice,
Nor doth the verdant fruits the gardener pull; Him find the same he parted, and rejoice
But thou art cropt before thy years were full. To learn his passed perils; know the sports

With thee, sweet youth! the glories of our fields of foreign shepherds, fawns, and fairy courts.
Vanish away, and what contentments yields. No pleasure like the fields, an happy state
The lakes their silver look, the woods their shades, | The swains enjoy, secure from what they hate :
The springs their crystal want, their verdure meads, Free of proud cares they innocently spend
The years their early seasons, cheerful days; The day, nor do black thoughts their ease offend;
Hills gloomy stand, now desolate of rays:

Wise Nature's darlings, they live in the world Their amorous whispers zephyrs not us bring, Perplexing not themselves how it is burl'd. Nor do air's choristers salute the spring;

These hillocks Phæbus loves, Ceres these plains,
The freezing winds our gardens do deflow'r. These shades the Sylvans ; and here Pales strains
Ah Destinies, and you whom skies embow'r, Milk in the pails; the maids which hauut the springs
To his fair spoils his spright again yet give, Dance on these pastures; here Amintas sings:
And, like another phenix, make him live! (stems, Hesperian gardens, Tempe's shades, are here,
The herbs, though cut, sprout fragrant from their Or what the eastern Inde and west hold dear.
And make with crimson blush our anadems: Come then, dear youth ! the wood-nymphs twine
The Sun, when in the west he doth decline,

thee boughs
Heaven's brightest tapers at his funerals shine; With rose and lily to impale thy brows."
His face, when wash'd in the Atlantic seas, Thus ignorant I mus’d, not conscious yet
Revives, and cheers the welkin with new rays: Of what by Death was done, and ruthless Fate:

Imidst these trances Fame thy loss doth sound, Phil. Learn I pray this, like to thee,
Ind through my ears gives to my heart a wound. And say, I love as I do me.
With stretch'd-out arms I sought thee to embrace, | Dam. Alas! I do not love myself,
But clasp'd, amaz'd, a coffin in thy place;

For I'm split on beauty's shelf.
A coffin, of our joys which had the trust, [dust! | Phil. Like to what, good shepherd, say?
Which told that thou wert come, but chang'd to Dam. Like to thee, fair cruel May.
Scarce, ev'n when felt, could I believe this wrack,
Nor that thg time and glory Heavens would break.
Now, since I cannot see my Alcon's face,
And find nor vows nor prayers to have place
With guilty stars, this mountain shall become

All good hath left this age, all tracks of shame: To me a sacred altar, and a tomb

Mercy is banished, and pity dead; To famous Alcon. Here, as days, months, years

Justice, from whence it came, to Hear'n is fled; Do circling glide, I sacrifice will tears;

Religion, maimd, is thought an idle name. Here spend my remnant time, exil'd from mirth,

Faith to distrust and malice bath giv'n place; Till Death at last turn monarch of my earth.

Envy, with poison'd teeth, hath friendship torn; Shepherds on Forth, and you by Doven rocks,

Renowned knowledge is a despis'd scorn; Which use to sing and sport, and keep your flocks, Now evil 't is. all evil not t' embrace. Pay tribute here of tears! ye never had

There is no life, save under servile bands; To aggravate your moans a cause more sad:

To make desert a vassal to their crimes, And to their sorrows hither bring your mands,

Ambition with avarice joins hands : Charged with sweetest flow'rs, and with pure hands; O ever shameful, 0 most shameless times ! Pair nymphs, the blushing hyacinth and rose

Save that Sun's light we see, of good here tell, Spread on the place his relics doth enclose;

This Earth we court so much were very Hell. Weave garlands to his inemory, and put Over his hearse a verse in cypress cut: Virtue did die, goodness but harm did give, After the noble Alcon ceas d to live:

Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move? Friendship an earthquake suffer'd; losing him

Is this the justice which on Earth we find ?
Love's brightest constellation turned dim.

Is this that firm decree which all doth bind?
Are these your influences, pow'rs above?
Those souls which vice's moody mists most blind,
Blind Fortune, blindly, most their friend doth prove;

And they who thee, poor idol virtue! love,
MISCELLANTES.

Ply like a feather toss'd by storm and wind.
Ah! if a providence doth sway this all,
Why should best minds groan under most distress?

Or why should pride bumility make thrall,
A PASTORAL SONG.

And injuries the innocent oppress?

Heav'ns! hinder, stop this fate; or grant a time PHILLIS AND DAMON.

When good may have, as well as bad, their prime,
Pail. SHEPHERD, dost thou love me well ?
DAM. Better than weak words can tell.
Puik. Like to what, good shepherd, say?

A REPLY.
Dam. Like to thee, fair cruel May.
Phil. O how strange these words I find !

Who do in good delight,
Yet to satisfy my mind,

That sov'reign justice ever doth reward;
Shepherd, without mocking me,

And though sometime it smite,
Have I any love from thee?

Yet it doth them regard :
Like to what, good shepherd, say?

For ev'n amidst their grief
Dam. Like to thee, fair cruel May.

They find a strong relief,
Phil. Better answer had it been,

And death itself can work them no despite.
To say thou lov'st me as thine eyne. Again, in evil who joy,
Dam. Wo iş me! these I love not,

And do in it grow old,
For by them love entrance got.

In midst of mirth are charg'd with sin's annoy,
At that time they did behold,

Which is in conscience scrollid;
Thy sweet face and locks of gold.

And when their life's frail thread is cut by time, Pall. Like to what, dear shepherd, say?

They punishment find equal to each crime.
DAM. Like to thee, fair cruel May.
Phil. Once, dear shepherd, speak more plain,

And I shall not ask again;
Say, to end this gentle strife,
Dost thou love me as thy life?

Look how in May the rose,
DAM. No, for it is turn'd a slave

At sulphur's azure fumes,
To sad annoys, and what I have

In a short space her crimson blush doth lose,
Of life by love's stronger force

And, all amaz'd, a pallid white assumes.
Is 'reft, and I'm but a dead corse.

So time our best consumes,
Phil. Like to what, good shepherd, say?

Makes youth and beauty pass, Dam. Like to thee, fair cruel May,

And what was pride turns horrour in our glass.

DAPHNIS.
TO A SWALLOW

Now Daphnis' arms did grow

In slender branches; and her braided hair, BUILDING NEAR THE STATUE OF MEDEA.

Which like gold waves did flow, Fond Progne, chattering wretch,

In leafy twigs was stretched in the air;

The grace of either foot
That is Medea ! there

Transform'd was to a root;
Wilt thou thy younglings hatch?
Will she keep thine, her own who could not spare? | He who did cause her ill

A tender bark enwraps her body fair.
Learn from her 'frantic face
To seek some fitter place.

Sore wailing stood, and from his blubber'd eyne What other may'st thou hope for, what desire,

Did show'rs of tears upon the rind distil,

Which, water'd thus, did bud and turn more green. Save Stygiau spells, wounds, poison, iron, fire?

O deep despair! O heart-appalling grief!
When that doth woe increase should bring relief.

VENUS ARMED.

THE BEAR OF LOVE. To practice new alarms

IN woods and desert bounds
In Jove's great court above,

A beast abroad doth roam;
The wanton queen of love
Of sleeping Mars put on the horrid arms;

So loving sweetness and the honey-comb,
Where gazing in a glass

It doth despise the arms of bees and wounds: To see what thing she was,

I, by like pleasure led, To mock and scoff the blue-eyed maid did move;

To prove what Heav'ns did place
Who said, “Sweet queen, thus should you have of sweet on your fair face,
been dight

Whilst therewith I am fed,
When Vulcan took you napping with your knight.” Rest careless (bear of love) of bellish smart,

And how those eyes afflict and wound my heart.

THE BOAR'S HEAD.

FIVE SONNETS FOR GALATEA.

a

Amidst a pleasant green

1. Which Sun did seldom see, Where play'd Anchises with the Cyprian queen,

Srrepion, in vain thou bring'st thy rhymes and songs, The head of a wild boar hung on a tree:

Deck'd with grave Pindar's old and wither'd flow'rs; And, driven by Zephyrs' breath,

In rain thou count'st the fair Europa's wrongs, Did fall, and wound the lovely youth beneath ;

And her whom Jove deceird in golden show'rs. On whom yet scarce appears

Thou hast slept never under myrtle's shed; So much of blood as Venus' eyes shed tears. Or, if that passion hath thy soul oppress'd, But, ever as she wept, her authem was,

It is but for some Grecian mistress dead,

Of such old sighs thou dost discharge thy breast;
“ Change, cruel change, alas!
My Adon, whilst thou liv’d, was by thee slain ; How can true love with fables hold a place?
Now dead, this lover must thou kill again?”

Thou who with fables dost set forth thy love,
Thy love a pretty fable veeds must prove:
Thou suest for grace, in scorn more to disgrace.
I cannot think thou wert cbarm’d by my looks,

O no! thou learn'st thy love in lovers' books.
TO AN OWL.

II. ASCALAPHUS, tell me,

No more with candid words infect mine ears; So may night's curtain long time cover thee, Tell me no more bow that you pine in anguish; So ivy ever may

When sound you sleep, no more say that you lanFrom irksome light keep thy chamber and bed;

guish; And, in Moon's liv'ry clad,

No more in sweet despite say you spend tears. So may'st thou scorn the choristers of day

Who hath such hollow eyes as not to see, When plaining thou dost stay

How those that are hair-brain'd boast of Apollo, Near to the sacred window of my dear,

And bold give out the Muses do them follow, Dost ever thou her hear

Though in love's library, yet no lovers be. To wake, and steal swift hours from drowsy sleep? If we, poor souls! least favour but them show, And, when she wakes, doth e'er a stolen sigh creep That straight in wanton lines abroad is blaz'd; Into thy listening ear?

Their names doth soar on our fame's overthrow; If that deaf god doth yet her careless keer, Mark'd is our lightness, whilst their wits are prais'd. In louder notes my grief with thine express, In silent thoughts who can no secret cover, Till by thy shrieks she think on my distress. He may, say we, but not well, be a lover.

III.

TO THAUMANTIA, SINGING,
Ye who with curious numbers, sweetest art,
Frame Dedal nets our beauty to surprise,

Is it not too, too much

Thou late didst to me prove
Telling strange castles builded in the skies,

A basilisk of love,
And tales of Cupid's bow and Cupid's dart;
Well, howsoe'er ye act your feigned smart,

And didst my wits bewitch ?
Molesting quiet ears with tragic cries,

Unless, to cause more harm, When you accuse our chastity's best part,

Made syren too thou with thy voice me charmi Nam'd cruelty, ye seem not half too wise;

Ah ! though thou so my reason didst controul, Yea, ye yourselves it deem must worthy praise,

That to thy looks I could not prove a mole;
Beauty's best guard ; that dragon, which doth keep | As not to let me turn asp to thy song,

Yet do me not that wrong,
Hesperian fruit, the spur in you does raise,
That Delian wit that otherways may sleep:
To cruel nymphs your lines do fame afford,
Oft many pitiful, not one poor word.

UPON A GLASS.
If thou wouldst see threads purer than the gold,

Where love bis wealth doth show,
IV.

But take this glass, and thy fair hair behold.
If it be love, to wake out all the night,

If whiteness thou wouldst see more white than snow, And watchful eyes drive out in dewy moans, And read on wonder's book, And, when the Sun brings to the world his light, Take but this glass, and on thy forehead look. To waste the day in tears and bitter groans; Wouldst thou in winter see a crimson rose, If it be love, to dim weak reason's beam

Whose thorns do hurt each heart? With clouds of strange desire, and make the mind Look but in glass how thy sweet lips do close. In hellish agonies a Hear'n to dream,

Wouldst thou see planets which all good impart, Still seeking comforts where but griefs we find; Or meteors divine ? If it be love, to stain with wanton thought

But take this glass, and gaze upon thine eyne. A spotless chastity, and make it try

No-planets, rose, snow, gold, cannot compare More furious flames than his whose cunning wrought with you, dear eyes, lips, brows, and amber hair! That brazen bull, where he intomb’d did fry; Then sure is love the causer of such woes, Be ye our lovers, or our mortal foes.

OF A BEE.

As an audacious knight, v.

Come with some foe to fight,
AND would you then shake off Love's golden chain, His sword doth brandish, makes his armour ring;
With which it is best freedom to be bound?

So this proud bee, at home perhaps a king,
And, cruel! do you seek to heal the wound Did buzzing fly about,
Of love, which hath such sweet and pleasant pain? And, tyrant, after thy fair lip did sting.
All that is subject unto Nature's reign

O champion strange as stout !
In skies above, or on this lower round,

Who hast by nature found When it its long and far-sought end hath found, Sharp arms, and trumpet shrill, to sound and wound, Doth in decadens fall and slack remain. Behold the Moon, how gay her face doth grow Till she kiss all the Sun, then doth decay ! See how the seas tumultuously do flow Till they embrace lov'd banks, then post away:

O do not kill that bee So is 't with love: unless you love me still,

That thus hath wounded thee!
O do not think I 'll yield unto your will!

Sweet, it was no despite,
But hue did him deceive:
For when thy lips did close,

He deemed them a rose.
SONNET.

What wouldst thou further crave?
CARE's charming sleep, son of the sable night,

He wanting wit, and blinded with delight, Brother to death, in silent darkness born,

Would fain have kiss'd, but mad with joy did bile,
Destroy my languish ere the day be light,
With dark forgetting of my care's return;
And let the day be long enough to mourn

OF A KISS.
The shipwreck of my ill-adventur'd youth;
Let wat’ry eyes suffice to wail their scorn,

Ah! of that cruel bee
Without the troubles of the night's untruth. Thy lips have suck'd too much;
Cease, dreams, fond image of my fond desires ! For when they mine did touob,
To model forth the passions of to morrow;

I found that both they hurt and sweeten'd me:
Let never rising Sun approve your tears,

This by the sting they have,
To add more grief to aggrarate my sorrow: And that they of the honey do receive:
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain, Dear kiss! else by what art
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

Couldst thou at once both please and wound myheart? VOL. V.

OF THE SAME.

Y y