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As when thofe hinds that were transform'd to frogs Victory home, though new rehellions raise
Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,

6 Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays Which after held the sun and moon in fee. Her broken league to imp their serpent wings. But this is got by casting pearls to hogs; O yet a nobler talk awaits thy hand,

9 'That hawl for freedom in their fenfeless mood, (For what can war, but endless war fill breed?)

And still revolt when truth would set them free. Tili truth and right from violence be freed,

Licence they mean when they cry Liberty; II And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand
For who loves that must first be wise and good; Of public fraud. In vain doth valor bleed,

But from that mark how far they rove we fee While avarice and rapin share the land.
For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood.


To Mr. H. Lawes on bis Airs.
CARRY, whose tuneful and well-measur'd song


Words with just note and accent, not to scan

With Midas' ears, committing short and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,

With praise cnough fur envy to look wan; 6
To after-age thou shalt be writ the man,
That with smooth air could's humour best our

Thou honor'it verse, and verse must lend her wing

To honor thee, the priest of Phæbus' quire, 10

That tun'st 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.

To tbe Lord General Gromwell.
ROMWELL, our chief of men, who through

a cloud
Not of war only, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith and matehlefs fortitude,
To peace and truth thy glorious way halt

And on the neck of crowned fortune proud 5

Haft rear'd God's trophies, and his work pursued,
While Darwen itrean with blood of Scots im-

And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud,
And Worcester's laureat wreath. Yet much remains

To conquer still; peace hath her victories

No less renown'd than war : new foes arise 10 Threatning to bind our souls with fecular chains :

Help us to save free conscience from the paw of hireling wolves, whofe gospel is their maw.

To Sir Henry Vane the younger.
ANE, young in years, but in fage counsel old,

On the religious Memory of Mrs. Catharine Thomson,

my Cbriflian Friend, deceas'd 16 Decemb. 1646.
HEN faith and love, which parted from

thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didit resign this earthly load
Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth

Thy works and alms and all thy good endevor 5

Stay'd not hehind, nor in the grave were trod :
But, as foith pointed with her golden rod,

Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.
Love led them un, and faith, who knew them best,
Thy hand-maids, clad them o'a with purple

And azure wings, that up they flew fo drest,
And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes

Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee rest
And drink thy fill of pure immortal fireams.

The helm of Rome, when gowns not arms re

The fierce Epirot and the African bold,
Whether to settle peace, or to unfold

The drift of hollow states hard to be spellid,
'Then to advise how war may best upheld

Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold,
In all her equipage: besides to know

Both spiritual pow'r and civil, what each means,
What fevers each, thou hast learn'd, which few

have done :
The bounds of either sword to thee we owe:

Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans
In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son.



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The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 9| And disapproves that carë, though wise in show,

To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and a fhes low That with superfluous burden loads the day,

O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth (way And when God sends a chearful hour, refrains. The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow

A hundred fold, who having learn'd thy way
Early may fly the Babylonian woe.


To the same.

YRIAC, this three years day these eyes,

, On bis Blindness.

To outward view, of blemish or of spot, HEN I consider how my light is spent Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot,

Nor to their idle orbs doth fight appear wide,

Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, 5 And that one talent which is death to hide, Or man, or woman. Yet I argue not Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more Against Heav'n's hand or will, nor bate a joc bent

Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and sleer To serve therewith my Maker,'and present 5 Right onward. What supports me, doft thou ask? Iy true account, lest he returning chide;

The conscience, Friend, to' have lost them over. Doth God exact day-labor, light deny'd ? I fondly ask : But patience to prevent

In liberty's defence, my noble tak, That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need Of which all Europe talks frona fide to side.

Either man's work or his own gists; who best ro This thought night lead me through the world's Bears his mild yoke, they serve him beit: his state

vain maik, Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, Content though blind, had I no better guide.

And post o'er land and occan without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.


Or bis deceased Wife.

ETHOUGHT I saw my late espoused saint

Brought to me like Alcestis froin the grave, To Mr. Lawrend.

Whom Jove's great fon to her glad husband

gave, Now that the fields are dank, and ways are

Rescued from death by force, though pale and mire,

faint, Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire Mine, as whom wash'd from spot of child-bed taint Help waste-a sullen day, what may be won

Purification in the old Law did save, 6 From the hard feafon gaining ? time will run 5

And such, as yet once more I trust to have On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire

Full fight of her in Heav'n without restraint, The frozen carth, and clothe in fresh attire Came vested all in white, pure as her mind :

The lily' and rose, that neither sow'd nor spun. Her face was veild, yet to my fancied sight 10 What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person thin's

Of Attic talle, with wine, whince we may rise So clear, as in no face with nore delight.

To hear the lute well touch'd, or artful voice But O as to embrace me the incluid, Warble inmortal notes and Tuscan air?

I wak'd, the fied, and day brought back my He who of those delights can judge, and spare

night. To interpose them oft, is not unwisc.


On occafion of ibe Plague in Londoa.

Found on a glass Window at Chalfont, in Buck slas:
To Cyriac Skinner.

Dire, ubere Milton reided during the Coatianst! VYRIAC, whose grandfire on the royal bench of tbat Calamity.

[Fron Birch's Life.] Pronounc'd and in his volumes taught our laws, Which others at their bar fo often wrench; T'AIR mirror of foul times; whose fragile sheen

F To-day deep thoughts refolve with me to drench 5 Shall, as it blazıtlı, break; while Providcace

In mirth, that after no repenting draws; (Aye watching v'er his faints with cye unten; I et Euclid rest and Archimedes paute,

Spreads the red rod of angry pettilence, And what the Swede intends, and what the To sweep the wicked and their counsels herce; French.

Yea, all to break the pride of luftful kings, To nieasure life learn thou betimes, and know Who Heaven's lore reject for brutish fenfe;

Toward solid good what leads the nearest way; As erst he scourg'd Jeflides' fin of yore,
For things mild Heav'n a time ordains, For the fair Hitrite, when, on seraph's wings,

He fent him war, or plague, or famine fore. le




LORD bonapeh ose my focs!

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up stand

Psalm 1. Done into verse, 1653.

Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse

With trembling; kiss the Son, lese he appear 25 RLESS’D is the man who hath not walk'd astray

In anger, and yc perish in the way,

If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.
O finners hath not tlood, and in the seat
Of scorners hath not sat. But in the great

Happy all those who have in him their stay!
Jehovah's law is ever his delight,

5 And in his law he studies day and night. He shall be as a tree which planted grow 3

Psalm 11. Aug. 9, 1653.
By watery streams, and in his season knows

W ben he fled from Abfalom.
To yield his fruit, and his leaf Mall not fall,
And what he takes in hand shall prosper all.

How many those
Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fann'd

That in arnis against me rise! The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand

Many are they In judgment, or abide their trial then,

That of my life distrustsully thus say, 3 Nor finners in th'assembly of just men.

No help for him in God therc lies.
For the Lord knows th' upright way of the juít, 15 But thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory,
And the way of bad men to ruin muft.

Thee through my story
Th' exalter of my head I count;

Aloud I cry'd
Pfalm 11. Done Aug. 8, 1653. Terzelte.

Unto Jehovah, he full soon reply'd THY do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations And heard me from his holy mount. Muse a vain thing, the kings of th' earth I lay and slept, I wak'd again,

For my sustain With power, and princes in their congregations

Was the Lord. Of many millions IS Lay deep their plots together through cach land

The populous rout Against the Lord and his Mesliah dear? 5

I fear not, though incamping round about Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand They pitch against me their pavilions. Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,

Rise, Lord; fave me, my God; for thou Their twisted cords: He who in Heav'n doth

Hast Imote ere now dwell

On the chcek-bonc all my foes, Shall laugh, the Lord thall scoff them, then fe

Of nien abhorr'd

Hast broke the tecth. This help was from the Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell

And fierce ire trouble them; but I, faith hư, Thy blesing on thy people flows.




Anointed have my king (though ye rebel)
On Sion my holy' hill. A firm decree
I will declare; the Lord to me hath said

Pfalm iv. Aug. 10, 1653.
Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee
This day; ask of me, and the grant is made;

God of my righteousness,
As thy posseflion I on thee bestow

In firaits and in distress Th'Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd Thou didst me disinthrall Earth’s utmost bounds : them shalt thou bring full | And let at large; now spare,

5 low

Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayer.
With iron scepter bruis’d, and them disperse 20 Great ones, how long will ye
Like to a potter's veffel shiver’d fo.

My glory have in scorn,
And now be wise at length, ye Kings averse, How long be thus forbora
Be taught, ye Judges of the earth; with fear Still to love vanity;



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