Lift not thy fpear against the Muses' bower :
The great Emathian conqueror bid fpare

The house of Pindarus, when temple' and tower
Went to the ground: and the repeated air

Of fad Electra's poet had the power

To fave th' Athenian walls from ruin bare.

IX.

To a virtuous young Lady.

Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth
Wifely hath fhunn'd the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently feen,
That labor up the hill of heav'nly truth,
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chofen thou haft; 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 fhame. Therefore be fure Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends Paffes to blifs at the mid hour of night,

Haft gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wife and pure.

X.

To the Lady Margaret Ley.

Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,
Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee.

ΤΟ

5

IO

And

And left them both, more in himself content,

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.

Though later born than to have known the days

Wherein father florish'd, yet by you,

your

Madam, methinks I fee him living yet;
So well your words his noble virtues praife,
That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to poffefs them, honor'd Margaret.

XI.

10

On the detraction which followed upon my writing

certain treatises.

A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,
And woven close, both matter, form and ftile
The subject new; it walk'd the town a while,
Numbering good intellects; now feldom por'd on.
Cries the ftall-reader, Blefs us! what a word on
A title-page is this! and fome in file

Stand spelling false, while one might walk to MileEnd Green. Why is it harder, Sirs, than Gordon, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galafp?

Those rugged names to our like mouths grow fleek, That would have made Quintilian ftare and grafp. Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,

Hated not learning worse than toad or afp,
When thou taught'ft Cambridge, and king Edward

Greek.

XII. Or

XII.

On the fame.

I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs
By the known rules of ancient liberty,
When strait a barbarous noife environs me
Of owls and cuckoos, affes, apes, and dogs:
As when thofe hinds that were transform'd to frogs 5
Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,

Which after held the fun and moon in fee.
But this is got by cafting pearl to hogs;
That bawl for freedom in their fenfelefs mood,

And ftill revolt when truth would fet them free. 10
Licence they mean when they cry Liberty;

For who loves that, must first be wife and good;
But from that mark how far they rove we fee
For all this wafte of wealth, and loss of blood.

XIII.

To Mr. H. LAWES on his Airs.

Harry, whofe tuneful and well-measur'd song
First taught our English mufic how to span
Words with just note and accent, not to scan
With Midas' ears, committing fhort and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng, 5
With praise enough for envy to look wan;

To after-age thou shalt be writ the man,

That with smooth air could'st humour beft our tongue.

Thou

Thou honor'st verse, and verse must lend her wing
To honor thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire,
That tun'ft their happiest lines in hymn, or story.
Dante shall give fame leave to set thee higher
Than his Casella, whom he woo'd to fing,
Me tin the milder fhades of purgatory.

XIV.

On the religious memory of

10

Mrs. CATHARINE THOMSON, my christian friend, Deceas'd 16 Decem. 1646,

When faith and love, which parted from thee never, Had ripen'd thy just foul to dwell with God, Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load

Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth fever.
Thy works and alms and all thy good endevor
Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod ;
But, as faith pointed with her golden rod,
Follow'd thee up to joy and bliss for ever.

Love led them on, and faith, who knew them best,
Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams >>
And azure wings, that up they flew so 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 streams.

VOL. III.

N

XV. T.

XV.

To the Lord General FAIRFAX.

Fairfax, whofe name in arms through Europe rings,
Filling each mouth with envy or with praise,
And all her jealous monarchs with amaze
And rumors loud, that daunt remotest kings,
Thy firm unfhaken virtue ever brings

Victory home, though new rebellions raise
Their Hydra heads, and the falfe North displays
Her broken league to imp their serpent wings.
O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand,

(For what can war, but endlefs war ftill breed?) 10 Till truth and right from violence be freed,

And public faith clear'd from the shameful brand
Of public fraud. In vain doth valor bleed,
While avarice and rapin fhare the land.

XVI.

To the Lord General CROMWELL.

Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloudNot of war only, but detractions rude,

Guided by faith and matchlefs fortitude,

To peace and truth thy glorious way haft plough'd, And on the neck of crowned fortune proud

Haft rear'd God's trophies, and his work pursued, While Darwen ftream with blood of Scots imbrued, And Dunbar field refounds thy praises loud,

5

And