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On the new Forcers of Conscience under
the Long PARLIAMENT,
you have thrown off your Prelate Lord
From them, whose lin ye envy'd, not abhorrid;
ye for this adjure the Civil Sword
Taught ye by meer A. S. and Rotherford?
Would have been held in high Efteem with Paul,
Must now be nam'd and printed Hereticks,
That so the Parliament
And fuccour our juft Fears;
The fifth ODE of Horace, Lib. I.
Rendered almost word for word without Rhyme,
according to the Latin Measure, as near as the Language will permit.
Hat slender Youth, bedew'd with liquid odours,
Courts thee on Roses in some pleasant Cave,
Plain in thy neatness? O how oft shall he
Rough with black winds and storms
Who now enjoys thee credulous, all Gold,
Hopes thee ; of flattering gales
Unmindful! Hapless they,
My dank and dropping weeds
SO N N E T S.
To the Nightingale.
Nightingale, that on yon bloomy Spray
first heard before the sallow Cuccoo's bill,
Have link'd that amorous pow'r to thy soft lay, Now timely fing, ere the rude Bird of Hate
Foretel my hopeless doom in fome Grove nigh;
As thou from year to year hait sung too late For my relief; yet hadīt no reason why: Whether the Mufe, or Love call thee his mate,
Both them I serve, and of their train am I.
On his being arriv'd to his 2 3d Year.
Ow soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth,
Stol'n on his wing my three and twentieth year! My haiting days flie on with full career,
But my late spring no bud or blossom fhew'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 lefs or more, or foon or flow,
It shall be still in strictest measure .ev'n
To that same lot, however mean or high, Tow'rd which Time leads me, and the will of Heavin ; All is, if I have grace to use it fo, As ever in my great Talk master's eyes.
7 SONNET III.
To the Soldier, to spare bis Dwelling-place. C
Aptain, or Colonel, or Knight in Arms, -
Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize, If ever deed of honour did thee please,
Guard them, and him within protect from harms.
Thit call Fame on fuch gentle acts as these,
What-ever clime the Sun's bright circle warms.
The great Emathian Conqueror bid spare
Went to the ground: And the repeated air
To save th’ Athenian Walls from ruin bare.
To a Lady.
and the greeng And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the Hill of Heav'nly Truth.
Chofen thou hast, and they that overween,
find in thee, but pity and ruth.
To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light,
And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure
Paffes to bliss at the mid-hour of night,
SON N E T V.
To the Lady Margaret Lee Daughter to the
Earl of Marlborough.
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,
And left them both more in himself content,