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Looks tow'ard Namancos and Bayona's hold; Look homeward Angel now, and melt with ruth: And, O ye Dolphins, waft the hapless youth.

Weep no more, woeful Shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, 166

Sunk though he be beneath the watry floor;
So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed,
And yet anon repairs his drooping head,
And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore
Flames in the forehead of the morning sky: 171
So Lycidas funk low, but mounted high,
Through the dear might of him that walk'd the waves,
Where other groves and other streams along,
With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 175

And hears the unexprefsive nuptial song,
In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love.
There entertain him all the Saints above,
In solemn troops, and sweet societies,
That sing, and singing in their glory move, 180
And wipe the tears for ever from his eyes.
Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more;
Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore,
In thy large recompense, and shalt be good
To all that wander in that perilous flood. 185

Thus fang the uncouth swain to th' oaks and rills, While the still morn went out with sandals gray, He touch'd the tender stops of various quills, ■ With eager thought warbling his Doric lay:


And now the sun had stretch'd out all the hills, 190
And now was dropt into the western bay;
At last he rose, and twitch'd his mantle blue:
.To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new.


The Fifth ODE of Horace, Lib. I. Quis multa gracilis te puer in rqfa, rendred almost word for luord without rime, according to the Latin measure\ as near as the language will permit.

WHAT flender youth bedew'd with liquid odors Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave,

Pyrrah? for whom bind'st thou

In wreaths thy golden hair, Plain in thy neatness? O how oft shall he 5

On faith and changed Gods complain, and seas

Rough with black winds and storms

Unwonted shall admire! Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold, Who always vacant always amiable 10

Hopes thee, of flattering gales

Unmindful. Hapless they Towhom thou untry'dseem'st fair. Me inmyvow'd Picture the sacred wall declares t' have hung

My dank and dropping weeds 15

To the stern God of sea.



Horatius ex Pyrrlue illecebris tanquam e naujragio enataverat, cujus amore irretitos affirmat ejfe miferos.

QUIS multa gracilis te puer in rosa , Perfusus liquidis Urget odoribus,

Grato, Pyrrha, sub antro?

Cui flavam religas comam. Simplex munditiis? heu quoties fidem c

Mutatosque deos flebit, et aspera

Nigris æquora ventis

Emirabitur insolensi Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aurea, Qui semper vacuam semper amabilem 10

Sperat, nescius auræ

Fallacis. Miseri quibus Intentata nites. Me tabula facer Votiva paries indicat uvida

Suspendisse potenti 15

Vestimenta maris Deo.

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On the new forcers of conscience under the

BEcause you have thrown off your Prelate Lord,
And with stiff vows renounc'd his Liturgy,
To seise the widow'd whore Plurality
From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorr'd,

Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword 5

To force our consciences that Christ set free,
And ride us with a classic hierarchy
Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford?

Men whose life, learning, faith and pure intent
Would have been held in high esteem with Paul,
Must now be nam'd and printed Heretics n

By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call: But we do hope to find out all your tricks, Your plots and packing worse than those of Trent,

That so the Parlament

May with their wholsome and preventive shears 16

Clip your phylacteries, though bauk your ears,

And succour our just fears,

When they shall read this clearly in your charge,

New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large. 20





O Nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still, Thou with fresh hope the lover's heart dost fill, While the jolly hours lead on propitious May.

Thy liquid notes that close the eye of day, 5

First heard before the shallow cuccoo's bill,
Portend success in love; O if Jove's will
Have link'd that amorous pow'r to thy soft lay,

Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate

Foretel my hopeless doom in some grove nigh; 10 As thou from year to year hast sung too late

For my relies, yet hadst no reason why:

Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate, Both them I serve, and of their train am I,


Donna leggiadra il cui bel nome honora
L'herbosa val di Rheno, e il nobil varco,
Bene e colui d'ogni valore scarco
Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora,

Che dolcemente mostra si di suora 5

De sui atti soavi giamai parco,

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