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The rayes of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn;

pud DO 1931 Nor all the Gods beside, Longer dare abide,

I Not Typhon huge ending in snaky twinc.'s dz:'3 Our Babo, to new his Godhead truc, 1011)1 0. Can in his swadling bands controul the damned archi

XXVI. So when the Sun in bed,

PT Curtain'd with cloudy red,

Pillows his chin upon an Orient wave,
The flocking hadows pale,
Troop to th'infernal Jail,

Each fetter'd Ghost Nips to his several grave,
And the yellow-skirted Fayes,
Fly after the Night-steeds, leaving their Moon-lov'd

maze. But see the Virgin blen Hath laid her Babe to, reft,

7 Time is our tedious Song fhould here have ending: Heav'ns yquogest teemed Star Hath fix'd her polish'd Carg ""Her sleeping Lord with Handmaid Lamp attending: And all about the Courtly Stable, Bright-harnest Angels fit in order serviceable.

Anno ætatis 17.

On the Death of a fair Infant,

Nepbew of bis, dying of a Cough.

I. O

Faires Aower no sooner blown but blasted,

Soft lilken Primrose fading timelefly, Summer's chief Honour, if thou hadft out. Iafted Bleak winter's force that made thy bloffom dric; For he being amorous on that lovely die

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

For since grim Aquilo his charioteer
By boiftrous rape th' Athenian damsel got,
He thought it toucht his Deity full ncar,
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 III.

(held. So mounting up in ycie-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 cealt his care. Down he descended from his Snow-soft chais,

But all unwares with his cold.kind embrace
Unhous'd thy Virgin Soul from her fair biding place.

Yer art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
For so Apollo, with voweeting hand,
Whilom did say his dearly-loved mate
Young Hyacinth born on Eurota's strand,
Young Hyasinth the pride of Spartan land;

But then transform'd him to a purple flower,
Alack that foto change thee winter had no power.

Yet can I not perswade me chou art dead,
Or that thy coarse corrupts in carth's dark womb,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormie bed,
Hid from the World in a low delved tomb;
Could Heav'n for pity thee so strictly doom?

Oh no! for something in thy face did mine
Above mortality, that thew'd thou walt divine.

Refolve me then, oh Soul most surely blest,
(If fe it be that thou these plaints doft hear)
Tell me bright Spirit where ere thou hoverett,
Whether above that high first-moving Sphere,
Or in she Elisian fields (if such there were.)

0. say me true, if thou 'wert mortal wight,
And why from us so quicklythou didit take thy flight.

VII. Wert thou some Star which from the ruin'd roof of bak’t Olympus by mischance didft falli

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Which careful Jove in Nature's true behoof
Took up, and in fit place did teinital: od As.iT
Or did of late earth's Sons befiege

of heenie Heaves, and thou rothe godders Hed Amongft us here below to hide thy nedard head.

Or wert thou that jult Maid who once before
Fotlook the hated earth, Otell me footh,
And cam'ff again to visit us once more ?
Or were chod that sweet filing Youth?
Or that crown'd Matron fage white-robed Truth?"

Or any other of that Heav'nly brood Let down in clowdie throne to do the World fome ix.

[goodt Or wert thou of the golden-winged hoaft, Who having clad thy felf in hamare weed, To earth from thy præfixed feat didft poast,And after thort abode flie back with Tpeed, As if to few what creatures Heav'n doth breed, 1

Thereby to fet the hearts of men on fire
To scorn the fordid world, and into Heav'o afpits.

But oh why didit thou for Atay here below
To bless us with thy Heav'n-lov'd innocence,
To flake his wrath whom fin hath made our foe,
To turn swift-rukking black perdition hente,
Or drive away the flaughtering peftilence,

To ftand'twixt us and our dererved fmart ? cami But thou canst beft perform that office where thou at a

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sur indgang Jarak Then thou the Mother of so sweet a Childr XoT Her false imagin?d, loss.cease to lament, ' 19 01510) And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild, , 3 trong Think what a present thou to God haft fentemth And render him with patience what he lent;

This if thou do, he will an off-Spring give, ***.5 10 That till the World's faft end fhall make thy name to

[liver A

Anno Ætatis. 19. At a Vacation Exera

cise in the College, part Latin, part: English. The Latin Speeches ended, she: English thus began.

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Ail native Language, that by finews wcak

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And mad't imperfe&t words with

childifts trips,

Half unpronounc'd lide through my infant-lips,
Driving dumb filence from the portal door,
Where he had mutely fate two years before ;
Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask,
That now. I use thee in my latter cask:
Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee;
Iknow my congue bur little Grace can do theça:
Thou need'At not be ambitious to be first,
Believe me I have thither packt the worst:


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