DEFUNCTO FRATRL. THINK (if thou canst) how mounted on his sphere, In Heaven now he sings : thus sung he here.

Phix. FLETCHER. Regal.

QUID quid Veneres, Cupidinesque,
Turturesque, jocósque, passerésque
Lascivi capitis greges, poetæ ?
Et jam languidutos amantum ocellos,
Et mox turgidulas sinu pupillas
Jam fletus teneros cachinnulosque,
Mox suspiria, morsiunculásque,
Mille basia: mille, mille nugas?
Et vultus pueri, puellulæve
(Heu fusci pueri puellulæque!)
Pingitis nivibus, rosunculisque,
(Mentitis nivibus, rosunculisque)
Quæ vel primo hyemis rigore torpents
Vel Phoebi intuitu statim relanguent.
Heu stulti nimiùm greges poetæ !
Ut quas sic nimis, (ah!) nimis stupetis,
Nives candidulæ, et rosa pudentes :
Sic vobis pereunt statim labores;
Et solem fugiunt severiorem,
Vel saltem gelidå rigent senectå.

At tu, qui clypeo haud inane nomen
(Minerva clypeo Jovisque) sumens
Victrices resonas Dci triumphos,
Triumpbos lacrymis metúque plenos,
Plenos lætitiæ, et spei triuinphos,
Dum rem carmine, Pieróque dignam
Plenos militia, labore plenos,
Tuo propitius parat labori
Quin ille ipse tuos legens triumphos,
Plenos militia, labore plenos,
Tuò propitius parat labori
Plenos lætitiæ, et spei triumphos.

Phis. FLETCHER. Regal.

Quæ vitæ dederisque inire vitam;
Et Luci dederis videre lucem;
Quæ fastidia, morsiunculasque
Passa es quas gravidæ solent, nec unquain
Audebas propior viro venire :
Dum clausus penetralibus latebat
Matricis tunica undique involutus,
Quem se posse negant tenere cæli:
Quæ non virgineas premi papillas
Passa, virgineas tamen dedisti
Lactandas puero tuo papillas.
Etu, dic age, dic, beata virgo,
Cur piam abstineas manum timesque
Sancta tangere, sanctariumque
Insolens fugias. An inquinari
Contactu metuis tuo sacrata?
Contuctu metuis suo sacrata
Pollui pia: cernis (en!) ferentem.
Lenimenta Dei furentis, illa
Fædatas sibi ferre que jubebat.
Sis felix nova virgo-mater opto,
Quæ mollire Deum paras amicum,
Quin hic dona licet licet relinquas,
Agnellumque repone Turturemque,
Audax ingrediare inanis ædes
Dei, tange Deo sacrata, tange.
Quæ non concubitu coinquinata
Agnellum peperitque, Turturemque
Exclusit, facili Deo litabit
Agno cum Deus insit, et columbæ.

Nor can I so much say as much I ought,
Nor yet so little can I say as nought,
In praise of this thy work, so hear'nly penn'd,
That sure the sacred dove a quill did lend
From her high soaring wing: certes I know
No other plumes, that makes man seem so low
In his own eyes, who to all others' sight
Is mounted to the highest pitch of height:
Where if thou seem to any of small price,
The fault is not in thee but in bis eyes.
But what do I thy flood of wit restrain
Within the narrow banks of my poor vein ?
More I could say, and would, but that to praise
Thy verses, is to keep them from their praise.
For them who reads, and doth them not advance,
Of envy doth it, or of ignorance.

F. NETHERSOLE.

Η Μαριάμ.

Μη μιαρά. Beatissima virginum Maria; Sed matérque simul beata. Perquam, Qui seinper fuit, ille cæpit esa;

There is a place beyond that flaming hill
From whence the stars their thin appearance shed,
A place, beyond all place, where never ill,
Nor impure thought was ever harboured;
But saintly heroes are for ever su'd

To keep an everlasting Sabbath's rest ;
Still wishing that, of what th' are still possest;
Enjoying but one joy, but one of all joys best.
Here, when the ruin of that beauteous frame,
Whose golden building shin'd with every star
Of excellence, deform'd with age became :
Mercy, rememb'ring peace in midst of war,
Lift up the music of her voice, to bar

Eternal fate; lest it should quite erase [grace,
That from the world, which was the first world's
And all again into their (nothing) chaos chase.
For what had all this all, which man in one
Did not unite the earth, air, water, fire,
Life, sense, and spirit, nay, the pow'rful throne
Of the divinest essence did retire,
And his own image into clay inspire:

So that this creature well might called be
Of the great world the small epitomy,
Of the dead world the live and quick anatomy.
But Justice had no sooner Mercy seen
Smoothing the wrinkles of her father's brow,
But up she starts, and throws herself between ;
As when a vapour from a moóry slough,
Meeting with fresh Eous, that but now

Open'd the world which all in darkness lay,
Doth Heav'n's bright face of his rays disarray;
And sads the smiling orient of the springing day.
She was a virgin of austere regard:
Not as the world esteems her, deaf and blind;
But as the eagle, that hath oft compar'd
Her eye with Heav'n's, so, and more brightly shin'd
Her lamping sight: for she the same could wind

Into the solid heart, and with her ears,

The silence of the thought loud speaking bears, And in one hand a pair of even scales she wears. No riot of affection revel kept Within her breast, but a still apathy Possessed all her soul, which softly slept, Securely, without tempest; no sad cry Awakes her pity, but wrong'd poverty,

Sending his eyes to Heav'n swimming in tears, With hideous clamours ever struck her ears, Whetting the blazing sword that in her hand she bears.

The winged lightning is her Mercury,
And round about her mighty thunders sound:
Impatient of himself lies pining by

Pale Sickness, with her kercher'd head up wound,
And thousand noisome plagues attend her round.
But if her cloudy brow but once grow foul,
The fiints do melt, and rocks to water roll,
And airy mountains shake, and frighted shadows
howl.

Famine, and bloodless Çare, and bloody War,
Want, and the want of knowledge how to use
Abundance, Age, and Fear, that runs afar
Before his fellow Grief, that aye pursues
His winged steps; for who would not refuse
Grief's company, a dull, and raw-bon'd spright,
That lanks the cheeks, and pales the freshest
sight,
Unbosoming the cheerful breast of all delight?

Before this cursed throng goes Ignorance,
That needs will lead the way he cannot see:
And, after all, Death doth his flag advance,
And in the midst, Strife still would roguing be,
Whose ragged flesh and clothes did well agree:
And round about, amazed Horrour flies,
And over all, Shame veils his guilty eyes, [lies.
And underneath, Hell's hungry throat still yawning
Upon two stony tables, spread before her,
She lean'd her bosom, more than stony hard,
There slept th' impartial judge, and strict restorer
Of wrong, or right, with pain, or with reward,
There hung the score of all our debts, the card
Where good, and bad, and life, and death, were
painted:

Was never heart of mortal so untainted, But when that scroll was read, with thousand terrours fainted.

Witness the thunder that mount Sinai beard,
When all the bill with fiery clouds did flame,
And wand'ring Israel, with the sight afear'd,
Blinded with seeing, durst not touch the same,
But like a wood of shaking leaves became.

On this dead Justice, she, the living law,
Bowing herself with a majestic awe,

All Heav'n, to hear her speech, did into silence draw.
"Dread Lord of spirits, well thou didst devise
To fling the world's rude dunghill, and the dross
Of the old chaos, farthest from the skies,
And thine own seat, that here the child of loss,
Of all the lower heav'n, the curse, and cross,
That wretch, beast, captive, monster man, might
spend,

(Proud of the mire, in which his soul is pen'd) Clodded in lumps of clay, his weary life to end. "His body dust: where grew such cause of pride? His soul, thy image: what could he envy?) Himself most happy, if he so would bide: Now grown most wretched, who can remedy? He slew himself, himself the enemy.

That his own soul would her own murder wreak, If I were silent, Heav'n and Earth would speak; And if all fail'd, these stones would into clamours break.

"How many darts made furrows in his side, When she, that out of his own side was made, Gave feathers to their flight? where was the pride Of their new knowledge? whither did it fade? When running from thy voice into the shade,

He fled thy sight, himself of light bereav'd,
And for his shield a heavy armour weav'd,
With which, vain man, he thought God's eyes to
have deceiv'd?

"And well he might delude those eyes that see,
And judge by colours; for who ever saw
A man of leaves, a reasonable tree?
But those that from this stock their life did draw,
Soon made their father godly, and by law

Proclaimed trees almighty: gods of wood, Of stocks, and stones, with crowns of laurel stood, [blood. Templed, and fed by fathers with their children's "The sparkling fanes, that burn in beaten gold, Aad, like the stars of Heav'n in midst of night, Black Egypt, as her mirrors doth behold, Are but the dens where idol-snakes delight Again to cover Satan from their sight:""

Yet these are all their gods, to whom they vie The crocodile, the cock, the rat, the fly, Fit gods, indeed, for such men to be served by. "The fire, the wind, the sea, the Sun, and Moon, The fitting air, and the swift-winged hours, And all the watchmen, that so nimbly run, Anl sentinel about the walled towers Of the world's city, in their heavenly bowers. And, lest their pleasant gods should want delight, Neptune spues out the lady Aphrodite, [light. And but in Heav'n proud Juno's peacocks scorn to "The senseless earth, the serpent, dog, and cat, And worse than all these, man, and worst of men Usurping Jove, and swelling Bacchus fat, And drunk wth the vine's purple blood, and then The fiend himself they conjure from his den,

Because he only yet remain'd to be

Worse than the worst of men, they flee from
thee,
[knee.

And wear his altar-stones out with their pliant
"All that he speaks (and all he speaks are lies)
Are oracles; 'tis he (that wounded all)
Cures all their wounds; he (that put out their eyes)
That gives them light; he (that death first did call
Into the world) that with his orisal,

Inspirits earth: he Heav'n's all-seeing eye,
He Earth's great prophet, he, whom rest doth fly,
That on salt billows doth, as pillows, sleeping lie.
"But let him in his cabin restless rest,
The dungeon of dark flames, and freezing fire,
Justice in Heav'n against man makes request
To God, and of his angels doth require
Sin's punishment: if what I did desire,

Or who, or against whom, or why, or where,
Of, or before whom ignorant I were,

Then should my speech their sands of sins to mountains rear.

"Were not the Heav'ns pure, in whose courts I sue,
The judge, to whom I sue, just to requite him,
The cause for sin, the punishment most due,
Justice herself, the plaintiff to endite him,
The angels holy, before whom I cite him,
He against whom, wicked, unjust, impure;
Then might he sinful live, and die secure,
Or trial might escape, or trial might endure.
"The judge might partial be, and over-pray'd,
The place appeal'd from, in whose courts he sues,
The fault excus'd, or punishment delay'd,
The parties self-accus'd, that did accuse,
Angels for pardon might their prayers use:

But now no star can shine, no hope be got. Mest wretched creature, if he knew his lot, [not. And yet more wretched far, because he knows it "What should I tell how barren Earth has grown, All for to starve her children? didst not thou Water with heav'nly show'rs her womb unsown, And drop down clods of flow'rs? didst not thou Thine easy ear unto the ploughman's vow? [bow Long might he look, and look, and long in vain Might load his harvest in an empty wain, [grain. And beat the woods, to find the poor oak's hungry "The swelling sea seethes in his angry waves, [rish;

And smites the earth that dares the traitors nouYet oft his thunder their light cork outbraves, Mowing the mountains, on whose temples flourish Whole woods of garlands; and, their pride to cherish,