E'l cantar che di mezzo l'hemispero
Traviar ben puo la faticosa Luna,

E degli occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoco
Che l'incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco.

V.

ER certo i bei vostr' occhi, Donna mia
Esser non puo che non sian lo mio sole
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole
Per l'arene di Libia chi s'invia,
Mentre un caldo vapor (ne sentì pria)
Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole,
Che forse amanti nelle lor parole
Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia:
Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela

Scosso mi il petto, e poi n'uscendo poco
Quivi d' attorno o s'agghiaccia, o s'ingiela;
Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco
Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose
Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose.

ΤΟ

VI.

IOVANE piano, e simplicette amante

Poi che fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono,
Madonna a voi del mio cuor l'humil dono
Farò divoto; io certo a prove tante
L'hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante,

De pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono;

Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono,
S'arma di se, e d' intero diamante,

Tanto del forse, e d' invidia sicuro,

Di timori, e speranze al popol use
Quanto d'ingegno, e d'alto valor vago,
E di cetra sonora, e delle muse:
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
Ove Amor mise l'insanabil ago.

10

VII. ON HIS BEING ARRIVED TO THE AGE OF TWENTY-THREE.

OW soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stol'n on his wing my three and twentieth year!

My hasting days fly on with full career,

But my
late spring no bud or blossom show'th.
Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth,
That I to manhood am arriv'd so near,

And inward ripeness doth much less appear,
That some more timely-happy spirits indu'th.
Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow,

10

It shall be still in strictest measure even To that same lot, however mean or high, Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven. All is, if I have grace to use it so,

As ever in my great task-master's eye.

VIII. WHEN THE ASSAULT WAS

INTENDED TO THE CITY.

APTAIN or Colonel, or Knight in arms,
Whose chance on these defenceless doors
may seize,

If deed of honour did thee ever please,
Guard them, and him within protect from harms.
He can requite thee, for he knows the charms.
That call fame on such gentle acts as these,
And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas,
Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms.
Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bow'r :
The great Emathian conqueror bid spare
The house of Pindarus, when temple and tow'r
Went to the ground: and the repeated air
Of sad Electra's poet had the pow'r

To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare.

10

IX. TO A VIRTUOUS YOUNG LADY.

ADY, that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunn'd the broad way and the

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 friends Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night, Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and

pure.

X. TO THE LADY MARGARET LEY.

AUGHTER to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,

Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,
And left them both, more in himself content,
Till sad the breaking of that Parliament
Broke him, as that dishonest victory
At Chæronea, fatal to liberty,

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent.

Though later born than to have known the days
Wherein father flourish'd, yet by you,

your

Madam, methinks I see him living yet;

So well your words his noble virtues praise,

That all both judge you to relate them true,
And to possess them, honour'd Margaret.

10

XI. ON THE DETRACTION WHICH FOLLOWED

UPON MY WRITING CERTAIN TREATISES.

BOOK was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon, And woven close, both matter, form, and style;

The subject new: it walk'd the town a while, Numb'ring good intellects; now seldom por'd 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,

That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,

Hated not learning worse than toad or asp,

ΤΟ

When thou taught'st Cambridge, and king Edward Greek.

XII. ON THE SAME.

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 cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs: As when those hinds that were transform'd to frogs