Imatges de pàgina
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Who the pursuit of churlish beasts
Preferr'd to fleeping on her breasts.

Love makes so many hearts the prize
Of the bright Carlisle's conqu'ring eyes,
Which the regards no more than they
The tears of leffer beauties weigh.
So have I feen the loft clouds pour
Into the fea an useless show'r,

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And the vex'd failors curfe the rain,

For which poor fhepherds pray'd in vain.
Then Phyllis, fince our paffions are

Govern'd by chance, and not the care,
But sport of Heav'n, which takes delight

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UPON THE DEATH OF HIS LADY.

To this great dofs a sea of tears is due,
But the whole debt not to be paid by you:

Charge not yourself with all, nor render vain
Thofe fhow'rs the eyes of us your fervants rain.
Shall grief contract the largeness of that heart
In which nor fear nor anger has a part?

Virtue would blush if time should boaft (which dries
Her fole child dead, the tender mother's eyes)
Your mind's relief, where reafon triumphs fo
Over all paffions, that they ne'er could grow
Beyond their limits in your noble breast,
To harm another, or impeach your reft.
This we obferv'd, delighting to obey

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One who did never from his great felf ftray;
Whofe mild example feemed to engage

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Th' obfequious feas, and teach them not to rage.

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The brave Æmilius, his great charge laid down, (The force of Rome, and fate of Macedon) In his loft fons did feel the cruel stroke Of changing fortune, and thus highly spoke Before Rome's people; "We did oft' implore, "That if the Heav'ns had any bad in store "For your Æmilius, they would pour that ill "On his own house, and let you flourish still.” You on the barren arren feas, my Lord, have spent Whole fprings and fummers to the publick lent; Sufpended all the pleasures of your life, And fhorten'd'the fhort joy of fuch a wife; For which your country's more obliged than For many lives of old lefs happy ment", 7":

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You that have facrific'd so great a párt
Of youth, and private blifs, ought to impart
Your forrow too, and give your friends a right
As well in your affliction as delight.

Then with Æmilian courage bear this cross,
Since publick perfons only publick lofs
Ought to affect. And tho' her form and youth,
Her application to your will and truth,

That noble sweetness, and that humble state,
(All fnatch'd away by such a hafty fate!)
Might give excufe to any common breast,
With the huge weight of so just grief oppreft;
Yet let no portion of your life be ftain'd
With paffion, but your character maintain'd
To the last act. It is enough her stone
May honour'd be with fuperfcription
Of the fole lady who had pow'r to move

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The great Northumberland to grieve and love. 48

VII.

TO MY LORD ADMIRAL,

OF HIS LATE SICKNESS AND RECOVERY.

WITH joy like ours the Thracian youth invades
Orpheus, returning from th' Elysian shades;
Embrace the hero, and his stay implore;
Make it their publick fuit, he would no more

Defert them fo, and for his spouse's fake,
His vanish'd love, tempt the Lethean lake.
The ladies, too, the brightest of that time,
(Ambitious all his lofty bed to climb)
Their doubtful hopes with expectation feed,
Who shall the fair Eurydice fucceed :
Eurydice! for whom his num'rous moan

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Makes lift'ning trees and favage mountains groan :
Thro' all the air his founding strings dilate
Sorrow like that which touch'd our hearts of late.
Your pining fickness, and your restless pain,
At once the land affecting and the main,
When the glad news that you were Admiral
Scarce thro' the nation fpread, 't was fear'd by all
That our great Charles, whose wisdom shines in you,
Would be perplexed how to chufe a new.

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So more than private was the joy and grief,
That at the worst it gave our fouls relief,
That in our age such sense of virtue liv'd,
They joy'd so justly, and so justly griev'd.

Nature (her faireft lights eclipsed) seems
Herself to fuffer in those Tharp extremes;

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While not from thine alone thy blood retires,
But from those cheeks which all the world admires.
The ftem thus threaten'd, and the sap in thee,

Droop all the branches of that noble tree!

Their beauty they, and we our love fufpend;
Nought can our wishes, fave thy health, intend.

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As lilfes overcharg'd with rain, they bend

Their beauteous heads, and with high heav'n contend;

Fold thee within their fnowy arms, and cry

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He is too faultlefs and too young to die.

So like immortals round about thee they
Sit, that they fright approaching Death away.
Who would not languish, by so fair a train
To be lamented and restor❜d again?

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Or, thus withheld, what hafty foul would go,
Tho' to the bleft? O'er young Adonis fo

Fair Venus mourn'd, and with the precious fhow'r
Of her warm tears cherish'd the springing flow'r.
The next fupport, fair hope of your great name,
And fecond pillar of that noble frame,
By lofs of thee would no advantage have,
But ftep by step purfue thee to the grave.

And now relentless Fate, about to end
The line which backward does fo far extend

That antique flock, which fill the world fupplies
With braveft fpirits and with brightest eyes,

Kind Phoebus, interpofing, bid me say,

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Such ftorms no more shall shake that houfe but they, Like Neptune, and his feaborn niece *, shall be

The dining glories of the land and fea;

With courage guard, and beauty warm, our age,
And lovers fill with like poetick rage.

* Venus:

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