To Sir WILLIAM ALEXANDER.
HO' I have twice been at the doors of Death,
And twice found fhut those gates which ever mourn;
This but a lightning is truce ta'en to breath
For late-born forrowes augure fleet return.
Amid thy facred cares, and courtly toils,
Alexis, when thou shalt hear wand'ring Fame
Tell, Death hath triumph'd o'er my mortal fpoils,
And that on Earth I am but a fad name :
If thou e'er held me dear, by all our love,
By all that blifs, those joys, Heaven here us gave;
I conjure thee, and by the Maids of Jove,
To 'grave this short remembrance on my grave;
"Here Damon lies, whofe fongs did fometime grace
"The murmuring Efk-may rofes fhade the place."
LOOK Delia, how w' esteem the half-blown rofe,
The image of thy blush, and Summer's honour!
Whilst yet her tender bud doth undisclofe
That full of Beauty, Time bestowes upon her.
No fooner spreads her glory in the air,
But strait her wide-blown pomp comes to decline
She then is fcorn'd, that late adorn'd the Fair ;
So fade the roses of those cheeks of thine!
No April can revive thy wither'd flow'rs,
Whofe fpringing grace adorns thy glory now:
Swift fpeedy Time, feather'd with flying hours,
Diffolves the beauty of the fairest brow,
Then do not thou fuch treasure waste in vain
But love now, whilst thou may'st be lov'd again.
A Vision upon this conceit of the Fairy Queen.
ETHOUGHT I saw the Grave where Laura lay,
Within that Temple where the Vestal Flame
Was wont to burn; and paffing by that way,
To fee that buryed duft of living fame
Whose tomb fair Love, and fairer Vertue kept,
All fuddenly I faw the Fairy Queen :
At whofe approach, the Soul of Petrarch wept,
And from thenceforth those Graces were not seen.
For they this Queen attended; in whose steed
Oblivion laid him down on Laura's herfe:
Hereat the hardest stones were seen to bleed,
And grones of buried Ghosts the Heavens did perfe.
Where Homer's Spright did tremble all for grief
And curst th' access of that celestial Thief.
LEEP, Silence Child, fweet Father of soft reft,
Prince whose approach peace to all mortalls brings,
Indifferent Hoft to thepheards and to kings,
Sole comforter of minds with griefe oppreft.
Loe, by thy charming rod all breathing things.
Lie flumbring, with forgetfulneffe poffeft,
And yet o'er me to spread thy drowfie wings
Thou fpares (alas) who cannot be thy guest.
Since I am thine, O come, but with that face
To inward light which thou art wont to show,
With fained folace ease a true-felt woe,
Or if, deafe God, thou doe denie that
grace,
Come as thou wilt, and what thou wilt bequeath,
I long to kiffe the image of my death.
Drummond, Edinb. 1616.
LEAR Ankor, on whofe filver-fanded fhore,
My foul-fhrin'd Saint, my fair Idea lies,
O bleffed Brook, whofe milk-white fwans adore
Thy crystal stream refined by her eyes,
Where sweet myrrh-breathing Zephyr in the Spring
Gently diftills his nectar-dropping showers,
Where nightingales in Arden fit and fing
Amongst the dainty dew-impearled flowers;
Say thus, fair Brook, when thou shalt fee thy Queen,.
Lo, here thy Shepherd spent his wand'ring years;
And in these shades, dear Nymph, he oft had been,
And here to thee he facrific'd his tears :
Fair Arden, thou my Tempe art alone,
And thou, Sweet Ankor, art my Helicon.
|