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 fixed, 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 friends Passes to bliss at the mid-hour of night, Hast gained thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure. X TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY. DAUGHTER to that good Earl, once President Broke him, as that dishonest victory At Chæronea, fatal to liberty, Killed with report that old man eloquent : Though later born than to have known the days Wherein your father flourished, yet by you, Madam, methinks I see him living yet: So well your words his noble virtues praise That all both judge you to relate them true ΧΙ ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED UPON MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES. A BOOK was writ of late called Tetrachordon, And woven close, both matter, form, and style; The subject new it walked the town a while, Numbering good intellects; now seldom pored on. Cries the stall-reader, "Bless us! what a word on A title-page is this!"; and some in file Stand spelling false, while one might walk to MileEnd Green. Why, is it harder, sirs, than Gordon, Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp? Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek, Thy age, like ours, O soul of Sir John Cheek, Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, XII ON THE SAME. I DID but prompt the age to quit their clogs When straight a barbarous noise environs me Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee. And still revolt when Truth would set them free. VOL. I 2 F ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE UNDER THE LONG PARLIAMENT. BECAUSE you have thrown off your Prelate Lord, From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorred, To force our consciences that Christ set free, By shallow Edwards and Scotch What-d'ye-call! May with their wholesome and preventive shears And succour our just fears, When they shall read this clearly in your charge : XIII TO MR. H. LAWES, ON HIS AIRS. HARRY, whose tuneful and well-measured song To after-age thou shalt be writ the man. That with smooth air couldst humour best our tongue. Thou honour'st Verse, and Verse must lend her wing 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 wooed to sing, Met in the milder shades of Purgatory. XIV ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF MRS. CATHERINE THOMSON, MY CHRISTIAN FRIEND, DECEASED DEC. 16, 1646. WHEN Faith and Love, which parted from thee never, XV ON THE LORD GENERAL FAIRFAX, AT THE SIEGE OF COLCHESTER. FAIRFAX, whose name in arms through Europe rings, Victory home, though new rebellions raise O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand (For what can war but endless war still breed?) XVI TO THE LORD GENERAL CROMWELL, MAY 1652, ON THE PROPOSALS OF CERTAIN MINISTERS AT THE COMMITTEE CROMWELL, our chief of men, who through a cloud Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed, And on the neck of crownèd Fortune proud Hast reared God's trophies, and his work pursued, |