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Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce;
And to our high-rais’d phantasy present

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That undisturbed song of pure concent,
Aye sung before the sapphire-colour'd throne
To Him that sits thereon,
With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee;
Where the bright Seraphim, in burning row, 10
Their loud up-lifted angel-trumpets blow;
And the cherubic host, in thousand quires,
Touch their immortal harps of golden wires,
With those just spirits that wear victorious palms,
Hymne devout and holy psalms Llove

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Singing everlastingly:
That we on earth, with undiscording voice,
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportion'd sin
Jarr'd against nature's chime, and with harsh din 203
Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway

In perfect diapăşon, whilst they stood
zlea. In first obedience, and their state of good.
0, may we soon again renew that song,

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And keep in tune with heav'n, till God ere long
To his celestial concert us unite,
To live with him, and sing in endless morn of light!

tears

Capa

AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS

OF WINCHESTER.
THIS rich marble doth inter
The honour'd wife of .Winchester,
A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir,
Besides what her virtues fair
Added to her noble birth,

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More than she could own from earth.
Summers three times eight save one
She had tola; alas! too soon,
After so short time of breath,
To house with darkness, and with death.

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Yet had the number of her days
Been as complete as was her praise,
Nature and Fate had had no strife
In giving limit to her life.
Her high birth and her graces sweet

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Quickly found a lover meet;
The virgin quire for her request
The god that sits at marriage feast;
He at their invoking came,
But with a scarce well-ligted flame;

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And in his garland, as he stood,
Ye might discern a cypress bud,
Once had the early matrons run
To greet her of a lovely son,

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And now with second hope she goes,
And calls Lucina to her throes;
But, whether by mischance or blame,
Atropos for Lucina came;
And with remorseless cruelty
Spoil'd at once both fruit and tree:
The hapless babe, before his birth,
Had burial, yet not laid in earth;
And the languish'd mothers' womb
Was not long a living tomb.

So have I seen some tender slip,
Sav'd with care from winter's nip,
The pride of her carnation train,
Pluck'd up by some unheedy swain,
Who only thought to crop the flow'r
New shot up from vernal show'r;
But the fair blossom hangs the head
Side-ways, as on a dying bed,
And those pearls of dew she wears,
Prove to be presaging tears,
Which the sad morn had let fall
On her hast’ning funeral.

Gentle Lady, may thy grave
Peace and quiet ever bave;
After this thy travail sore
Sweet rest seize thee evermore,
That, to give the world increase,
Shorten'd hast thy own life's lease.
Here, besides the sorrowing
That thy noble house doth bring,
Here be of perfect moan
Wept for thee in Helicon;
And some flowers, and some bays,
For thy hearse, to strew the ways,
Sent thee from the banks of Came,
Devoted to thy virtuous name;
Whilst thou, bright Sant, high sitt’st in glory,
Next her, much like to thee in story,
That fair Syrian shepherdess,
Who, after years of barrenness,
The highly favour'd Joseph bore,
To him that serv'd for her before,
And at her next birth, much like thee,
Through pangs fled to felicity,
Far within the bosom bright
Of blazing Majesty and Light:
There with thee, new welcome Saint,
Like fortunes may her soul acquaint,
With thee there clad in radiant sheen,
No Marchioness, but now a Queen.

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SONG ON MAY MORNING. NOW the bright Morning-star, day's harbinger,

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Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her
The flow'ry May, who from her green lap throws
'The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.

Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire
Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;
Woods and groves are of thy dressing,

Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.
Thus we salute thee with our early song,
And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

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MISCELLANIES.

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ANNO AETATIS XIX.
At a Vacation Exercise in the College, part Latin, part

English. The Latin speeches ended, the English thus

began :
HAIL, native language, that by sinews weak
Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,
And mad'st imperfect words with childish trips,
Half-unpronounc'd, slide through my infant lips,
Driving dumb silence from the portal door,

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Where he had mutely sat two years before:
Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask,
That now I use thee in my latter task:
Small loss it is that hence can come unto thee,
I know my tongue but little grace can do thee : 10
Thou need’st not be ambitious to be first,
Believe me, I have thither pack'd the worst:
And, if it happen as I did forecast,
The daintiest dishes shall be serv'd up last.
I pray thee then deny me not thy aid,

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For this same small neglect that I have made:
But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure,
And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefest treasure,
Not those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight
Which takes our late fantasties with delight; 20
But cull those richest robes, and gay'st attire,
Which deepest spirits and choicest wits desire:
I have some naked thoughts which rove about,
And Joudly knock to have their passage out;
And, weary of their place, do only stay

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Till thou hast deck'd them in thy best array ;
That so they may, without suspect or fears,
Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears;
Yet I had rather, if I were to choose,
Thy service in some graver subject use,
Such as may make thee search thy coffers round,
Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound:
Such where the deep transported mind may soar

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Above the wheeling poles, and at heav'n's door
Look in, and see each blissful deity,

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How he before the thundrous throne doth lie,
List'ning to what unshorn Apollo sings
To th’ touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings
Immortal nectar to her kingly sire:
Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire, 40
And misty regions of wide air next under,
And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder,
May tell at length how green-ey'd Neptune raves,
In heav'n's defiance mustering all his waves;
Then sing of secret things that came to pass

45 When beldam Nature in her cradle was; And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old, Such as the wise Demodocus once told In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast, While sad Ulysses' soul, and all the rest,

50 Are held, with his melodious harmony, In willing chains and sweet captivity. But fie, my wand'ring Muse, how thou dost stray! Expectance calls thee now another way; Thou know'st it must be now thy only bent

55 To keep in compass of thy predicament: Then quick about thy purpos'd business come, That to the next I may resign my room. Then Ens is represented as father of the Predicaments his

two sons, whereof the eldest stood for Substance with his

canons, which Ens, thus speaking, explains : GOOD luck befriend thee, Son; for, at thy kirth, The faery ladies danc'd upon the hearth;

60 Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie, And, sweetly singing round about thy bed, Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head. She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst still 65 From eyes of mortals walk invisible: Yet there is something that doth force my fear; For once it was my dismal hap to hear A Sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age, That far events full wisely could presage,

70 And in tim’es long and dark prospective glass Foresaw what future days should bring to pass ; *Your son,' said she, "(nor can you it prevent) Shall subject be to many an accident. O'er all his brethren he shall reign as king,

75 Yet every one shall make him underling; And those, that cannot live from him asunder, Ungratefully shall strive to keep hiin under; In worth and excellence he shall out-go them, Yet, being above them, he shall be below them; 80 From others he shall stand in need of nothing, Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing. To find a foc it shall not be his hap, And peace shall lull him in her flow'ry lap;

Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door

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Devouring war shall never cease to roar;
Yea, it shall be his natural property
To harbour those that are at enmity.
What pow'r, what force, what mighty spell, if not
Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot? 90
The next antity and Qua spake in prose; then Re-

lation was called by his name.
RIVERS, arise; whether thou be the son
Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulfy Dun,
Or Trent, who, like some earth-born giant, spreads
His thirty arms along th' indented meads;
Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath;

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Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death ;
Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee,
Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallow'd Dee;
Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name;
Or Medway smooth, or royal-tower'd Thame. 100

[The rest was prose.]

AN EPITAPH On the admirable Dramatic Poet, William Shakspeare. WHAT needs my Shakspeare, for his honour'd bones, The labour of an age in piled stones ? Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame,

5 What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name! Thou, in our wonder and astonishment, Hast built thyself a livelong monument. For whilst, to th’ shame of slow-endeavouring art, Thy easy numbers flow; and that each heart

10 Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book, Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving, Dost make us marble with too much conceiving; And , so sepulcher'd , in such pomp dost lie,

15 That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die.

ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER, Who sickened in the time of his vacancy, being forbid to

go to London, by reason of the plague. HERE lies old Hobson; Death hath broke his girt, And here, alas! hath laid him in the dirt; Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one, He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 'Twas such a shifter, that, if truth were known, 5

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