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was prefixed the following advertisement of

THE STATIONER TO THE READER. It is not any private respect of gain, gentle Reader, for the slightest pamphlet is nowadays more vendible than the works of learnedest men ; but it is the love I have to our own language that hath made me diligent to collect and set forth such pieces, both in prose and verse, as may renew the wonted honour and esteem of our English tongue: and it's the worth of these both English and Latin poems, not the flourish of any prefixed encomiums that can invite thee to buy them, though these are not without the highest commendations and applause of the learnedest academics, both domestic and foreign; and amongst those of our own country, the unparalleled attestation of that renowned Provost of Eton, Sir Henry Wotton. I know not thy palate how it relishes such dainties, nor how harmonious thy soul is ; perhaps more trivial airs may please thee better. But howsoever thy opinion is spent upon these, that encouragement I have already received from the most ingenious men in their clear and courteous entertainment of Mr. Waller's late choice pieces, hath once more made me adventure into the world, presenting it with these ever-green, and not to be blasted laurels. The Author's more peculiar excellency in these studies was too well known to conceal his papers, or to keep me from attempting to solicii them from him. Let the event guide itself which way it will, I shall deserve of the age, by bringing into the light, as true a birth, as the Muses hare brought forth since our famous Spenser wrote ; whose poems in these English ones are as rarely imitated, as sweetly excelled. Reader, if thou art eagle-eyed, to censure their worth, I am not fearful to erpose them to thy exactest perusal.

Thine to commund,

HUMPH, MOSELEY.

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POEMS

ON

SEVERAL OCCASIONS.

I.

ANNO ÆTATIS, 17.
ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, DYING

OF A COUGH.

I.

O FAIREST flow'r, no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly,
Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst outlasted
Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry;
For he, being amorous on that lovely dye

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss,
But kill'd, alas ! and then bewail'd his fatal bliss,

II.
For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer,
By boistrous rape th’ Athenian damsel got,
He thought it touch'd his deity full near,

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If likewise he some fair one wedded not,
Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot
Of long uncoupled bed, and childless eld,
Which, 'mongst the wanton Gods, a foul reproach was held,

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III.
So, mounting up in icy-pearled car,
Through middle empire of the freezing air
He wander'd long, till thee he spy'd from far ;
There ended was his quest, there ceas'd his care :
Down he descended from his snow-soft chair,

But all unwares, with his cold-kind embrace,
Unhous'd th yvirgin soul from her fair biding place.

IV.
Yet art thou not inglorious iu thy fate;
For so Apollo, with unweeting hand,
Whilom did slay his dearly-loved mate,
Young Hyacinth, born on Eurotas' strand;
Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land ;

But then transform'd him to a purple flower :
Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no power;

V.
Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead,
Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,
Hid from the world in a low delved tomb;
Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom?

Oh no! for something in thy face did shinc
Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine.

VI.
Resolve me then, oh sonl most surely blest,
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear ;)
Tell me, bright Spirit, where'er thou boverest,
Whether above that high first-moving sphere,
Or in th’ Elysian fields, (if such there were ;)
Oh say me true, if thou wert mortal wight,

why from us so quickly thou didst take thy fight?

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