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I. TO THE NIGHTINGALE.
O NIGHTINGALE, that on yon bloomy spray
First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill,
Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh; As thou from year to year hast too late sung d For my relief, yet hadst no reason why: Whether the Muse or Love call thee his mate, C Both them I serve, and of their train am I.
II. ON HIS BEING ARRIVED AT THE AGE OF
How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, a
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
It shall be still in strictest measure even
III.-WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS INTENDED TO THE
CAPTAIN, or colonel, or knight in arms, [seize,
The great Emathian conqueror bid spare
To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.
IV. TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY.
LADY, that in the prime of earliest youth [green,
And with those few art eminently seen, That labour up the hill of heavenly truth; The better part with Mary and with Ruth Chosen thou hast; and they that overween, And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. Thy care is fix'd, and zealously attends
To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure,
Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night, [friends Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.
V.-TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY.
DAUGHTER to that good earl, once president
Who lived in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.
VI. ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES.
A BOOK was writ of late, call'd "Tetrachordon,"
Thy age, like ours, O soul of Sir John Cheek, Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward, Greek.
VII. ON THE SAME.
I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs
Which after held the sun and moon in fee.
License they mean when they cry liberty; For who loves that, must first be wise and good; But from that mark how far they rove we see, For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood.
VIII. TO MR H. LAWES, ON THE PUBLISHING
HARRY, whose tuneful and well-measuring song
That with smooth air couldst humour best our [wing Thou honour'st verse, and verse must lend her To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire, That tunest their happiest lines in hymn or story. Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher Than his Casella, whom he woo'd to sing Met in the milder shades of purgatory.
IX. ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF MRS CATHERINE THOMSON, MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND, DECEASED DEC. 16, 1646.
WHEN Faith and Love, which parted from thee
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load [sever. Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth