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XII.

Hated not learning worse than toad or asp,
Whenthou taught'sCambridge, and kingEdward

(Greek. On the same. I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs

By the known rules of ancient liberty,
When straight a barbarous noise environs me

Of owls and cuccoos, asses, apes and dogs : As when those hinds that were transform’d to frogs 5

Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny,
Which after held the sun and moon in fee.

But this is got by casting pearl to hogs;
That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, 9

And still revolt when truth would set them free.

Licence 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 fee
For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood.

XIII.
To Mr. H. LAWES on his Airs.
Harry, whose tuneful and well-measur'd song

First taught our English music how to span
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 enough for envy to look wan; 6 To after age thou shalt be writ the man, i That with smooth air couldst humour best our tongue.

M m

Thou

Thou honor'lt 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.

XIV. On the religious memory of Mrs. CATHARINE

THOMSON, my Christian friend, deceasd

16 Decem. 1646. When faith and love, which parted from thee never,

Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God, Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load

Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth sever. Thy works and alms and all thy good endevor 5

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'erwith purple beams

And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, 11 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.

XV.
To the Lord General FAIRFAX.
Fairfax, whose 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 unshaken virtue ever brings

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

(For what can war, but endless war still breed?)

Till truth and right from violence be freed, II And public faith clear’d from the shameful brand ·

Of public fraud. In vain doth valor bleed,
While avarice and rapin share the land.

XVI.
To the Lord General CROMWE L L.
Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud

Not of war only, but detractions rude,
Guided by faith and matchless fortitude,

Topeaceand truth thy glorious way hast plough’d, And on the neck of crowned fortune proud 5

Hast rear'dGod's trophies, and his work pursued, WhileDarwen stream with blood of Scotsimbrued,

And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, And Worcester's laureat wreath. Yet much remains M m 2

To

To conquer still; peace hath her victories 10 No less renown'd than war: new foes arise Threatning to bind our souls with secular chains :

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

XVII.
To Sir HENRY VAN E the younger.
Vane, young in years, but in fage counsel old,

Than whom a better senator ne'er held
The helm of Rome, when gowns not arms repell’d

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

5 The drift of hollow states hard to be spellid, Than to advise how war may best upheld Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold, In all her equipage: besides to know

9 Both spiritual pow'r and civil, what each means, What severs each, thou hast learn’d, which few have Thebounds of eithersword to theewe owe: (done: Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son.

XVIII. On the late massacre in PIEMONT. Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughter'd saints, whose bones

Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold; Ev’n them who kept thy truth so pure of old,

When

When all our fathers worshipt stocks and stones, Forget not: in thy book record their groans. 5

Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piemontese that rollid Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills, and they To Heav'n. Their martyr'd blood and alhes sow 10

O’er all th' Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple Tyrant; that from these may grow

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

XIX.

On his BLIND N E S S. When I consider how my light is spent

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide, Lodg’d with me ufeless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present 5

My true account, left he returning chide;
Doth God exact day-labor, light deny’d,

I fondly ask : But patience to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need

Either man's work or his own gifts; who best 10

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him beft: his state Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed,

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

To

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