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Whilst that she (O cruel maid)
Doth me and my love despise,
My life's flourish is decay'd, FOURTH SONG OF THE CHORUS.
That depended on her eyes :
But her will must be obey'd,
And well he ends, for love who dies.
And with the thought of actions past
With innocent and plain simplicity: Are recreated still:
And living here ander the awful hand When pleasure leaves a touch at last
Of discipline and strict observancy,
Learn but our weaknesses to understand.
In lower style the hidden mysteries,
And arts of thrones, which none that are below That 's out of custom bred;
The sphere of action, and the exercise Which makes us many other laws,
Of power, can truly show; thongh men may strain Than ever Nature did.
Conceit above the pitch where it should stand, No widows wail for our delights,
And form more monst'rous figures than contain Our sports are without blood;
A possibility, and go beyond The world we see by warlike wights
The nature of those managements so far,
As oft their common decency they mar: Receives more hurt than good.
Whereby the populace (in which such skill
Is needless) may be brought to apprehend
Notions, that may turn all to a taste of ill
Whatever power shall do, or might intend : These motions of unrest,
And think all cunning, all proceeding one, And these great spirits of high desire
And nothing simple, and sincerely done: Seem born to turn them best :
Yet th' eye of practice, looking down from high To purge the mischiefs, that increase,
Upon such over-reaching vanity, And all good order mar:
Sees how from errour to errour it doth float, for oft we see a wicked peace,
As from an unknown ocean into a gulf:
And how though th' wolf would counterfeit the goat,
And therefore in the view of state t' have show'd Well, well, Ulysses, then I see
A counterfeit of state, had been to light I shall not have thee here;
A candle to the Sun, and so bestow'd And therefore I will coine to thee,
Our pains to bring our dimness unto light. And take my fortune there.
For majesty and power can nothing see I must be won that cannot win,
Without itself, that can sight-worthy be. Yet lost were I not won ;
And therefore durst not we but on the ground, For beauty hath created been
From whence our humble argument hath birth, Tundo or be undone.
Erect our scene, and thereon are we found,
Which if at their first opening they did please,
It was enough, they serve but for a spring,
Is ever wont to vanish with the sound.
But yet your royal goodness may raise new,
Grace but the Muses, they will honour you.
Chi non fa, non falla.
PRESENTED TO HER MAJESTY AND HER LADIES, BY THE
UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD IN CHRIST'S CHURCH, IN AU
VISION OF THE TWELVE GODDESSES.
The graces of society,
Do here with hand in hand conclude
The blessed chain of amity :
For we deserve, we give, we thank,
Thanks, gifts, deserts, thus join in rank. Renown'd empress, to your princely sight :
We yield the splendent rays of light, Is now the offering of their humbleness,
Unto these blessings that descend : Here consecrated to your glorious name;
The grace whereof with more delight, Whose happy presence did vouchsafe to bless
T'he well disposing doth commend;
Whilst gratitude, rewards, deserts,
For worth, and power, and due respect,
Deserves, bestows, returns with grace :
That give the world a cheerful face,
Make virtue move with true delight.
FROM THE SAME.
Now when so many pens (like spears) are charg'd
To chase away this tyrant of the north,
Whose onset made the rest audacious,
Whereby they likewise have so well discharg'd For measur'd notions order'd right,
Upon that hideous beast encroaching thus.
And now must I with that poor strength I have
Resist so foul a foe in what I may: For comforts lock'd up without sound,
And arın against oblivion and the grave, Are th' unborn children of the thought:
That else in darkness carries all away, Like unto treasures never found,
And makes of all an universal prey ; That buried low are left forgot.
So that if by my pen procure I shall,
But to defend me, and my name to save, Where words our glory doth not show,
Then thongh I die, I cannot yet die all. (There) like brave actions without fame : It seems as plants not set to grow,
But still the better part of me will live,
And in that part will live thy rev'rend name,
Who dost with thine own hand a bulwark frame
Against these monsters, (enemies of honour)
As time or they shall never prey upon her.
Which Israel's singer to his God did frame,
Unto thy voice eternity hath given, [came; TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LADY MARY, COUNTESS And makes thee dear to him from whence they OF PEMBROKE.
In them must rest thy venerable name,
So long as Sion's God remaineth honoured ; Lo! here the labour which she did impose,
And till confusion hath all zeal bereaven,
And murther'd faith, and temples ruined.
By this (great lady) thou must then be known, She, whose clear brightness had the power t’ infuse When Wilton lies low levell’d with the ground: Strength to my thoughts, from whence these mo
And this is that which thou may'st call thine owa, tions came, Call'd up iny spirits from out their low repose,
Which sacrilegious time cannot confound.
Here thou surviv'st thyself, here thou art found To sing of state, and tragic notes to frame.
Of late succeeding ages, fresh in fame:
This monument cannot be overthrown,
Where, in eternal brass, remains thy name.
O that the ocean did not bound our style
Within these strict and narrow limits so; (A text from whence my Muse had not digress'd)
But that the melody of our sweet isle Madam, had not thy well-grac'd Antony
Might now be heard to Tyber, Arne, and Po: (Who all alone having remained long)
That they might know how far Thames doth out-go Requird bis Cleopatra's company.
The music of declined Italy ;
Might learn of thee their notes to purify.
Our accents, and the wonders of our land,
That they might all admire and honour as. And I hereafter in another kind,
Whereby great Sidney and our Spencer might, More suiting to the nature of my vein,
With those Po singers being equalled, May peradventure raise my humble mind Enchant the world with such a sweet delight, To other music in this higher strain;
That their eternal songs (for ever read) Since I perceive the world and thou dost deign May show what great Eliza's reign hath bred. To countenance my song, and cherish me,
What music in the kingdom of her peace I must so work posterity may find,
Hath now been made to her, and by her might, My love to verse, my gratitude to thee.
Whereby her glorious fame shall never cease.
But if that Fortune doth deny us this,
The bed of Sin reveald,
[ceald Then Neptune lock up with thy ocean key And all the luxury tbat Shame would have conThis treasure to ourselves, and let them miss Of so sweet riches: as unworthy they
The scene is broken down, To taste the great delights that we enjoy.
And all uncover'd lies, And let our harmony, so pleasing grown,
The purple actors known Content ourselves, whose errour ever is
Scarce men, whom men despise. Strange notes to like, and disesteem our own.
The complots of the wise,
Prove imperfections smok'd: But, whither do my vows transport me now,
And all what wonder gave Without the compass of my course enjoin'd?,
To pleasure-gazing eyes, Alas! what honour can a voice so low
Lies scatter'd, dash'd, all broke. As this of mine expect hereby to find ?
Thus much beguiled have
Poor unconsiderate wights,
These momentary pleasures, fugitive delights. Yet something shall I be, though not the best.
FROM THE SAME.
FROM THE SAME.
BEHOLD what furies still
Which when being most distress'd,
But in himself confind,
And likewise makes us pay
For now is nothing hid,
Oersion, how dost thou molest
Th' affected mind of restless man?
Nor ever shall attain to rest,
Yet lo! that best he finds far wide
Which proves but small, when once 't is try'd.
To draw him still from thought to thought:
Than at the first when he began.
Contriver of our greatest woes,
Dost nurse thyself in thine unrest,
Or what thou in conceit design'st,
Which shows their state thou ill defin'st:
For wbat thou hast, thou still dost lack :
If we unto ambition tend,
Then dost thou draw our weakness on,
Of that which never bath an end.
How doth that pleasant plague infest?
And tellist us that is ever best,
And that more pleasure rests beside,
This Antony can say is true,
And Cleopatra knows 't is so,
She can say, she never knew
And was never satisfyld:
But is it justice that all we, He can say by proof of toil,
The innocent poor multitude, Ambition is a vulture vile,
For great men's faults should punish'd be, That feeds upon the heart of pride,
And to destruction thus pursu'd ? And finds no rest when all is try'd.
O why should th' Heavens us include, For worlds cannot confine the one;
Within the compass of their fall, Th’ other lists and bounds hath none;
Who'of themselves procured all ? And both subvert the mind, the state,
Or do the gods (in close) decree, Procure destruction, envy, hate.
Occasion take how to extrude
Man from the Earth with cruelty ? And now when all this is prov'd vain,
Ab no, the gods are ever just, Yet opinion leaves not here,
Our faults excuse their rigour must, But sticks to Cleopatra near, Persuading now, how she shall gain
This is the period fate set down, Honour by death, and fame attain,
To Egypt's fat prosperity : And what a shame it was to live,
Which now unto her greatest grown, Her kingdom lost, her lover dead :
Must perish thus, by course must die, And so with this persuasion led,
And some must be the causers why Despair doth such a courage give,
This revolution must be wrought; That nought else can her mind relieve,
As born to bring their state to nought: Nor yet divert her from that thought:
To change the people and the crown, To this conclusion all is brought.
And purge the world's iniquity : This is that rest this vain world lends,
Which vice so far hath overgrown,
As we, so they that treat us thus,
FROM THE SAME.
FROM THE SAME.
O fearful frowning Nemisis,
Daughter of Justice most severe,
Eternal Justice, righting wrong:
The prouds' decay, the weaks' redress:
Dost raze the great, and raise the less;
Mysterious Egypt, wonder-breeder,
Strict religion's strange observer,
Fost'ring still intemp'rate feryour :
All religion, law, and order?
Of all lands, that Nilus border?
Where stern Law sat so severely?
Th' eye of Justice looking nearly?
Thou from dark-clos'd eternity,
From thy black cloudy hidden seat,
Which when they swell so proudly great,
Thou giv'st thy all-confounding doom,
Fast chain'd unto necessity,
Ah no, the course of things requireth
Change and alteration ever :
Th' unconstant world yieldeth never.
And not see what doth import us:
Is the thing that most must hurt us.
'T is their fault that should prevent it, for oft they seeing their country sliding,
Take their ease, as thonigh contented.
O how the pow'rs of Heaven do play
With travelled mortality:
In their best prosperity!
They look beyond themselves so far,
Whilst swift confusion down doth lay
Bringing their glory to decay,
Extinguish people, state, and all.