To that fame lot, however mean or high,

Toward which Time leads me,and the will of Heav'n,

All is, if I have grace to use it so,

As ever in my great Task-master's eye.

SONNET VIII.

To the Soldier to spare his Dwelling-pláce. Captain, or Colonel, or Knight in Arms,

Whose chance on these defenceless doors may If deed of honour did thee ever please, [sease, Guard them, and him within protect from harms. He can requite thee, for he knows the charms That call Fame on fuch gentle acts as these; And he can spread thy name o'er Lands and Seas, Whatever clime the Sun's bright circle warmsLift not thy fpear against the Mufes Bowre. The great Emathian Conqueror did spare The house of Pindarus, when Temple and Went to the ground: And the repeated air [Towre Of fad Electra's Poet had the power To fave th' Athenian Walls from ruin bare.

SONNET IX.

To a Lady.

Lady that in the prime of earliest youth,
Wifely, haft fhun'd the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the Hill of Heav'nly Truth,
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chofen thou haft; and they that overween,
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Thy care is fixt, and zealously attends

C

To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light,
And Hope that reaps not fhame. Therefore be

fure

Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends Paffes to blifs at the mid hour of night,

Haft gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wife and pure.

SONNET X.

To the Lady Margaret Lee, Daughter to the Earl of Marlborough.

Daughter to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,

Who liv'd in both, unstain'd with gold or fee,

And left them both, more in himself content, 'Till the fad breaking of that Parliament Broke him; as that dishonest victory At Charonea, fatal to Liberty,

Kill'd with report that old man eloquent, Though later born, than to have known the days Wherein your Father flourisht, yet by you, Madam, methinks I fee him living yet: So well your words his noble virtues praise, That all both judge you to relate them true, And to poffefs them, Honour'd Margaret.

On the Reception his Book of Divorce met with. A Book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon,

And woven clofe, both matter, form and ftile; The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while, Numb'ring good intellects; now seldom por❜d on. Cries the stall-reader, Blefs us! what a word on

A title page is this! and fome in file

Stand spelling falfe, while one might walk to MileEnd Green. Why it is harder Sirs than Gordon, Col

Y 4

Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galafp?

[fleek, Those rugged Names to our like mouths grow That would have made Quintilian ftare and gasp. Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek, Hated not Learning worse than Toad or Asp; When thou taught'ft Cambridge and King Edward [Greek

SONNET XII.

On the fame.

I did but prompt the Age to quit their clogs
By the known rules of ancient Liberty,
When strait a barbarous noise environs me
Of Owls and Cuckoes, Affes, Apes and Dogs:
As when those Hinds that were transform'd to Frogs
Rail'd at Latona's twin-born Progenie,

Which after held the Sun and Moon in fee.
But this is got by cafting Pearl to Hags;
That bawle for freedom in their senseless mood,
And still revolt when truth would fet them free.
Licence they mean, when they cry Liberty;
For who loves that, must first be wife and good,
But from that mark how far they roave we fee
For all this waste of wealth, and lofs of blood.

SONNET XIII.

To Mr. H. Lawes, on his Aires.

Harry, whose tuneful and well-measur❜d Song
First taught our English Musick how to span
Words with juft note and accent, not to scan
With Midas' Ears, committing fhort and long;
Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng,
With praise enough for Envy to look wan:
To after age thou shalt be writ the man, [tongue.
That with smooth aire couldft humour beft our
Thou honour'st Verfe; and Verfe must send her wing

To honour thee, the Priest of Phebus' Quire,
That tun'ft the happiest lines in Hymn or Story.
Dante fhall give Fame leave to set thee higher
Than his Cafella, whom he woo'd to fing,
Met in the milder fhades of Purgatory.

SONNET XIV.

An Elegy.

When Faith and Love,which parted from thee never, Had ripen'd thy juft Soul to dwell with God, Meekly thou didst refign this earthy load

Of Death,call'd Life,which us from life doth fever.