But now 'tis done, O let me know
Where those immortal colors grow,
That could this deathlefs piece compofe? -
In lillies? or the fading rofe?
No; for this theft thou haft climb'd high'r,
Than did PROMETHEUS for his fire.
AD DOROTHEA liv'd when mortals made
Choice of their Deities, this facred shade
Had held an altar to her pow'r, that
gave
The peace, and glory, which these alleys have:
Embroider'd fo with flowers where she stood,
That it became a garden of a wood.
Her prefence has fuch more than human grace,
That it can civilize the rudeft place:
And beauty too, and order can impart,
Where nature ne'er intended it, nor art.
The plants acknowledge this, and her admire,
No less than those of old did ORPHEUS' lyre:
If fhe fit down, with tops all tow'rds her bow'd,
They round about her into arbors crowd:
Or if the walk, in even ranks they stand,
Like fome well-marshal'd and obfequious band.
AMPHION fo made stones and timber leap
Into fair figures, from a confus'd heap:
And in the fymmetry' of her parts is found
A pow'r, like that of harmony in found.
Ye lofty beeches, tell this matchlefs dame,
That if together ye fed all one flame,,
It could not equalize the hundredth part,
Of what her eyes have kindled in my heart!
Go, boy, and carve this passion on the bark
Of yonder tree, which stands the facred mark
Of noble SIDNE Y's birth; when fuch benign,
Such more than mortal-making stars did shine
That there they cannot but for ever prove
The monument, and pledge, of humble love:
His humble love, whose hope fhall ne'er rife high'r,
Than for a pardon that he dares admire.
To my Lord of LEICESTER.
OT that thy trees at P EN S-HURST groan,
Oppreffed with their timely load;
And feem to make their filent moan,
That their great Lord is now abroad:
They to delight his tafte, or eye,
Would spend themselves in fruit, and dye.
Not that thy harmless deer repine,
And think themselves unjustly flain
By any other hand than thine,
Whose arrows they would gladly ftain:
No, nor thy friends, which hold too dear
That peace with FRANCE, which keeps thee there.
All these are lefs than that great cause,
Which now exacts your prefence here;
Wherein there meet the divers laws
Of public, and domeftic, care.
For one bright Nymph our youth contends,
And on your prudent choice depends.
Not the bright shield of * THETIS' fon,
(For which fuch stern debate did rise,
That the great AJAX TELAMON
Refus'd to live without the Prize)
Thofe ACHIVE Peers did more engage,
Than the the gallants of our age.
That beam of beauty, which begun
To warm us fo, when thou wert here,
Now fcorches like the raging fun,
When SIRIUS does firft appear.
O fix this flame; and let despair
Redeem the reft from endless care!
Of the LADY who can fleep when he pleases.
O wonder S LE EP from careful lovers flies,
As fair ASTEA once from earth to heav'n,
By ftrife, and loud impiety, was driv'n:
So with our plaints offended, and our tears,
Wife SOMNUS to that paradife repairs;
Waits on her will, and wretches does forfake,
To court the Nymph, for whom those wretches wake,
More proud than PHOEBUS of his throne of gold
Is the foft God, those fofter limbs to hold:
Nor would exchange with Jove, to hide the skies
In dark'ning clouds, the pow'r to close her eyes:
* Achilles.
Eyes, which fo far all other lights controul,
They warm our mortal parts, but these our foul!
Let her free spirit, whose unconquer'd breast
Holds fuch deep quiet, and untroubled rest,
Know, that tho' VENUS, and her Son, fhou'd spare
Her rebel heart, and never teach her care;
Yet HYMEN may in force his vigils keep;
And, for another's joy, suspend her sleep.
Of the Mif-report of her being Painted.
S when a fort of wolves infeft the night,
A with their wild howlings at fair CYNTHIA's light;
The noise may chase sweet slumber from our eyes,
But never reach the mistress of the skies:
So, with the news of SAC HARIS SA's wrongs,
Her vexed fervants blame those envious tongues :
Call LOVE to witness, that no painted fire
Can fcorch men fo, or kindle fuch defire:
While, unconcerned, fhe feems mov'd no more
With this new malice, than our loves before;
But, from the height of her great mind, looks down
On both our paffions, without fmile or frown.
So little care of what is done below
Hath the bright dame, whom heav'n affecteth so!
Paints her, 'tis true, with the fame hand which spreads
Like glorious colors thro' the flow'ry meads;
When lavish nature with her beft attire
Cloaths the gay spring, the season of defire:
Paints her, 'tis true, and does her cheek adorn,
With the fame art wherewith she paints the morn:
With the same art, wherewith the gildeth fo
Those painted clouds which form THAU MANTIAS' bow.
Of her paffing through a Crowd of People.
S in old CHAOs (heav'n with earth confus'd,
And ftars with rocks together crush'd and bruis'd:) The Sun his light no further could extend
Than the next hill, which on his fhoulders lean'd:
So in this throng bright SAC HARIS SA far'd,
Oppress'd by those who strove to be her guard:
As fhips, tho' never fo obfequious, fall
Foul in a tempeft on their Admiral.
A greater favor this disorder brought
Unto her fervants, than their awful thought
Durft entertain, when thus compell'd they preft
The yielding marble of her fnowy breast.
While LOVE infults, disguised in the cloud,
And welcome force, of that unruly crowd.
So th' amorous tree, while yet the air is calm,
Juft distance keeps from his defired Palm:
But when the wind her ravish'd branches throws
Into his arms, and mingles all their boughs;
Tho' loth he seems her tender leaves to prefs,
More loth he is that friendly ftorm should cease;
From whose rude bounty he the double use
At once receives, of pleasure, and excufe.
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