For had he not had fuch a greedy love
To entertain his offices too long;
Envy had been unable to reprove
His acted life, unless fhe did him wrong:
But having liv'd fo many years above,
He grieves now to defcend, to be less strong; And kills that fame that virtue did beget; Chofe to be held lefs good, than feen lefs great. Daniel's Civil War.
From whence it proceeds
That the treasure of the city is ingrofs'd
By a few private men; the publick coffers
Hollow with want; and they that will not fpare
One talent for the common good, to feed
The pride and bravery of their wives, confume
In plate, in jewels, and fuperfluous flaves,
What would maintain an army.
Woe to the wordly men, whofe covetous
Ambition labours to join houfe to house;
Lay field to field, till their inclosures edge
The plain, girdling a country with one hedge:
They leave no place unbought; no piece of earth
Which they will not ingrofs; making a dearth
Of all inhabitants; until they ftand
Unneighbour'd, as unblefs'd within the land!
Bishop King.
MORNIN G.
By this, the northern waggoner had fet
His feven-fold team behind the ftedfaft ftar,
That was in ocean waves yet never wet,
But firm is fix'd, and fendeth light from far
To all, that in the wide deep wand'ring are:
And chearfull chaunticleer, with his note fhrill,
Had warned once, that Phœbus' fiery carr
In hafte was climbing up the eaftern hill;
Fall envious that night fo long his room did fill.
At laft, the golden oriental gate
Of greatest heaven 'gan to open fair ; And Phabus, fresh as bridegroom to his mate, Came dauncing forth, fhaking his dewy hair: And hurles his gliftring beams through gloomy air. Spenfer's Fairy Queen. Look! the morn, in ruffet mantle clad, Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.
Shakespear's Hamlet. The glow-worm shews the mattin to be near, And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire.
The grey'd morn smiles on the frowning night;
Check'ring the eaftern clouds with ftreaks of light:
And darkness flecker'd, like a drunkard reels,
From forth day's path, and Titan's burning wheels.
Shakespear's Romeo and Juliet.
That fret the clouds, are meffengers of day.
Shakespear's Julius Cæjar.
1. How bloodily the fun begins to peer Above yon busky hill! the day looks pale At his diftemperature.
- 2. The fouthern wind
Doth play the trumpet to his purposes,
And, by his hollow whistling in the leaves,
Foretels a tempeft, and a bluft'ring day.
Shakespear's First Part of King Henry IV.
See, how the morning opes her golden gates,
And takes her farewel of the glorious fun!
How well refembles it the prime of youth,
Trimm'd like a yonker prancing to his love?
Shakespear's Third Part of King Henry VI.
It is, methinks, a morning full of fate!
It riseth flowly, as her fullen car
Had all the weights of fleep and death hung at it!
She is not rofy-finger'd, but swoln black!
Mer face is like a water turn'd to blood;
And her fick head is bound about with clouds,
As if the threaten'd night ere noon of day!
It does not look as it would have a hail,
Or health wifh'd in it, as on other morns.
Johnfon's Catiline. Yet hath the morning sprinkled through the clouds But half her tincture; and the foil of night
Sticks ftill upon the bofom of the air.
Chapman's Humorous Day's Mirth. Is not yon gleam, the fhudd'ring morn, that flakes With filver tincture, the east verge of heaven?
Marfton's First Part of Antonio and Melida.
See the dapple-grey courfers of the morn,
Beat up the light with their bright filver hoofs,
And chase it through the sky.
Marfton's Second Part of Antonio and Melida.
Stay, O fweet, and do not rife;
The light, that fhines, comes from thine eyes;
The day breaks not, it is my heart,
Because that you and I must part :
Stay, or elfe my joys will die,
And perish in their infancy.
'Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be?
O wilt thou therefore rife from me?
Why should we rife, because 'tis light?
Did we lie down, because 'twas night?
Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,
Should in defpite of light keep us together.
Now 'gins the fair dew-dabling blufhing morn
Το open to the earth heav'n's eastern gates,
Difplaying by degrees the new-born light:
The stars have trac'd their dance; and unto night
Now bid good night :
The young day's centinel, the morning star,
Now drives before him all his glitt'ring flock,
And bids them reft within the fold unfeen;
Till with his whistle Hesperus call them forth.
Now Titan up, and ready, calls aloud,
And bids the rowling hours beftir them quick
And harnefs up his prancing foaming fteeds,
To hurry out the fun's bright chariot :
O now I hear their trampling feet approach!
Now, now I fee that glorious lamp to dart
His nearer beams, and all bepaint with gold
The over-peeping tops of higheft hills.
Hawkins's Apollo Shroving
The mufes friend, grey ey'd Aurora, yet
Held all the meadows in a cooling sweat;
'The milk white gofemores not upwards fnow'd;
Nor was the fharp and ufeful fteering goad
Laid on the ftrong-neck'd ox; no gentle bud
The fun had dry'd; the cattle chew'd the cud,
Low levell'd on the grafs; no flies quick fting
Inforc'd the stone- horfe in a furious ring
To tear the paflive earth, nor lafh his tail
About his buttocks broad; the flimy fnail
Might, on the wainscot, by his many mazes,
Winding meanders, and felf-knitting traces,
Be follow'd, where he fuck; his glitt'ring flime
Not yet wip'd off: It was fo early time,
The careful fmith had in his footy forge
Kindled no coal; nor did his hammers urge
His neighbours patience: Owls abroad did fly,
And day, as then, might plead his infancy;
See Aurora puts on her crimson blush,
And with refplendent rays gilds o'er the top
Of yon afpiring hill! the pearly dew
Hangs on the rofe-bud's top; and knowing it
Must be anon exhal'd, for forrow shrinks
Itfelf into a tear. The early lark,
With other wing'd choirefters of the morn,
Chanting their anthems in harmonious airs.
Lewis Sharp's Noble Stranger.
By this the choirefters o'th'wood did fhake
Their wings, and fing to the bright fun's up-rife,
Whofe new embroidery did gild and make
Rich, houfes tops, and leaves of whistling trees.
Aurora blush'd, 'caufe Sol faw her rife from bed,
As Liber had her cheeks with claret spread.
The rofy finger'd morn did there difclofe
Her beauty ruddy as a blufhing bride,
Gilding the marigold, painting the rofe;
With Indian chry folites her cheeks were dy'd.
The mora begins her glory in the east;
And now the world prepares
To entertain new cares;
Though th'old fuffie'd to hinder all our reft.
Benighted feamen now their courfe reform,
Who coating, were benighted by a form.
Now merchants to imported flowage hafte,
Whilft ploughmen drive from cottages their teams:
The poor in cities rife to toil and fafte;
And lovers grieve to leave their pleasant dreams.
Sir W. Davenant's Play-Houfe to be lett. Now night, by grief neglected, haftes away, And they the morn's officious ufher spy, The clofe attendant on the Lord of day; Who fhews the warmer of the world is nigh.
Sir W. Davenant's Gondibert.
MOTION.
Befides, another motive doth arife
Out of the heart, from whofe pure blood do fpring The vital fpirits; which borne in arteries, Continual motion to all parts do bring.
This makes the pulfes beat, and lungs refpire:
This holds the finews like a bridle's reins;
And makes the body to advance, retire,
To turn, or top, as fhe them flacks, or strains.
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