Selected quad for the lemma: heaven_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
heaven_n	earth_n	know_v	world_n	6,978	5	4.3837	3	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A64333	The temple of death a poem / written by the Marquess of Normanby ...; Temple de la mort. English	Habert, Philippe, 1605-1637.; Buckingham, John Sheffield, Duke of, 1648-1720 or 21.; Horace. Ars poetica. English.; Howard, Robert, Sir, 1626-1698. Duel of the stags.; Roscommon, Wentworth Dillon, Earl of, 1633?-1685. Horace, of the Art of poetry.	1695 (1695)	Wing T663; ESTC R35214	58,282	289

Thunder follows whose resistless Rage None can withstand and nothing can Asswage So oft the Light which those bright flashes gave Serves only to conduct us to our Grave When I had just begun Love's Joys to taste Those full Rewards for Fears and Dangers past A Fever seiz'd her and to nothing brought The richest Work that ever Nature Wrought All things below alas uncertain stand The firmest Rocks are fix'd upon the Sand Under this Law both Kings and Kingdoms bend And no beginning is without an end A Sacrifice to Time Fate dooms us all And at the Tyrant's Feet we daily fall Time whose bold hand alike does bring to dust Mankind and all those Powers in which they trust Her wasted Spirits now begin to faint Yet Patience ties her Tongue from all Complaint And in her Heart as in a Fort remains But yields at last to her resistless pains Thus while the Fever am'rous of his Prey Through all her Veins makes his delightful way Her Fate 's like Semile's the Flames destroy That Beauty they too eagerly enjoy Her charming Face is in its Spring decay'd Pale grow the Roses and the Lilies fade Her Skin has lost that lustre which surpast The Sun's and did deserve as long to last Her Eyes which us'd to pierce the firmest hearts Are now disarm'd of all their Flames and Darts Those Stars now heavily and slowly move And Sickness triumphs in the Throne of Love The Fever every moment more prevails Its rage her Body feels and Tongue bewails She whose disdain so many Lovers prove Sighs now for Torment as they sigh for Love And with loud Crys which rend the neighb'ring Air Wounds my sad heart and wakens my Despair Both Gods and Men I charge now with my loss And wild with Grief my Thoughts each other cross My Heart and Tongue labour in both extreams That sends up slighted Prayers while this blasphemes I ask their help whose malice I defie And mingle Sacriledge with Piety But that which does yet more perplex my mind To Love her truly I must seem unkind So unconcern'd a Face my Sorrow wears I must restrain unruly floods of Tears My Eyes and Tongue put on dissembling forms I shew a Calmness in the midst of Storms I seem to hope when all my hopes are gone And almost dead with grief discover none But who can long deceive a Loving Eye Or with dry Eyes behold his Mistress die When Passion had with all its terrours brought Th' approaching danger nearer to my Thought Off on a sudden fell the forc'd disguise And shew'd a sighing heart in weeping Eyes My apprehensions now no more confin'd Expos'd my sorrows and betray'd my mind The Fair Afflicted Soon perceives my Tears Explains my Sighs and thence concludes my Fears With sad Presages of her hopeless Case She reads her Fate in my dejected Face Then feels my Torment and neglects her own While I am Sensible of hers alone Each does the others burden kindly bear I fear her Death and she bewails my Fear Though we thus suffer under Fortune's Darts 'T is only those of Love which reach our Hearts Mean-while the Fever mocks at all our Fears Grows by our Sighs and rages at our Tears Those vain effects of our as vain desire Like Wind and Oyl increase the fatal fire Almeria then feeling the Destinies About to shut her Lips and close her Eyes Weeping in mine fix'd her fair trembling Hand And with these words I scarce could understand Her Passion in a dying Voice express'd Half and her Sighs alas made out the rest 'T is past this pang Nature gives o'er the strife Thou must thy Mistress Lose and I my Life I die but dying thine the Fates may prove Their Conquest over me but not my Love Thy Memory my Glory and my Pain In spight of Death it self shall still remain Ah! Dear Orontes my hard Fate denys That hope is the last thing which in us dies From my griev'd Breast all those soft Thoughts are fled And Love survives although my Hope is dead I yield my Life but keep my Passion yet And can all thoughts but of Orontes quit My flame increases as my strength decays Death which puts out the light the heat does raise That still remains though I from hence remove I lose my Lover but I keep my Love The Sigh which sent forth that last tender word Up towards the Heav'ns like a bright Meteor soar'd And the Kind Nymph bereft of all her Charms Fell cold and breathless in her Lover's Arms Which shews since Death could deny him relief That 't is in vain we hope to die with grief Goddess who now my Fate has understood Spare but my Tears and freely take my Blood Here let me end the Story of my Cares My Dismal Grief enough the rest declares Judge thou by all this Misery display'd Whether I ought not to implore thy aid Thus to survive reproaches on me draws And my sad wishes have too Just a Cause Come then my only hope in every place Thou visitest Men tremble at thy Face And fear thy Name once let thy fatal hand Fall on a Swain that does the blow demand Vouchsafe thy Dart I need not one of those With which thou dost unwilling Kings depose Thy weakest my desir'd release can bring And free my Soul already on her wing But since all Prayers and Tears are vain I 'll try If spite of thee 't is possible to dy A PARAPHRASE On the CXLVIII PSALM By the Earl of Roscommon OAzure Vaults O Crystal Sky The World 's transparent Canopy Break your long silence and let Mortals know With what contempt you look on things below Wing'd Squadrons of the God of War Who Conquer wheresoe'er you are Let Echoing Anthems make his Praises known On Earth his Foot-stool as in Heaven his Throne Great Eye of All whose Glorious Ray Rules the bright Empire of the Day O praise his Name without whose purer Liglit Thou hadst been hid in an Abyss of Night Ye Moon and Planets who dispence By God's Command your Influence Resign to him as your Creatour due That Veneration which Men pay to you Fairest as well as first of things From whom all Joy all Beauty springs O praise the Almighty Ruler of the Globe Who useth thee for his Empyreal Robe Praise him ye loud harmonious Sphaeres Whose Sacred Stamp all Nature bears Who did all Forms from the rude Chaos draw And whose Command is th' universal Law Ye wat'ry Mountains of the Sky And you so far above our Eye Vast ever-moving Orbs Exalt his Name Who gave its being to your Glorious Frame Ye Dragons whose Contagious Breath Peoples the dark Retreats of Death Change your fierce hissing into joyful Song And praise your Maker with your forked Tongue Praise him ye Monsters of the Deep That in the Seas vast Bosoms sleep At whose Command the foaming Billows roar Yet know their Limits Tremble and Adore Ye Mists and Vapours Hail and Snow And you who through the Concave

But they are all most visibly possest And like a baited Bear when he breaks loose Without distinction seize on all they meet None ever scap'd that came within their reach Sticking like Leeches till they burst with blood Without remorse insatiably they read And never leave till they have read Men dead THE TEMPLE OF DEATH By the Earl of Mulgrave A Translation out of FRENCH IN those cold Climates where the Sun appears Unwillingly and hides his face in tears A dreadful Vale lies in a Desart Isle On which indulgent Heaven did never smile There a thick Grove of Aged Cypress Trees Which none without an awful horrour sees Into its wither'd Arms depriv'd of Leaves Whole Flocks of ill-presaging Birds receives Poysons are all the Plants the Soyl will bear And Winter is the only Season there Millions of Graves cover the spacious Field And springs of blood a thousand Rivers yield Whose streams opprest with Carcases and Bones Instead of gentle Murmurs pour forth Groans Within this Vale a famous Temple stands Old as the World it self which it commands Round is its figure and four Iron-Gates Divide Mankind by order of the Fates There Come in Crouds doom'd to one common Grave The Young the Old the Monarch and the Slave Old Age and Pains which Mankind most deplores Are faithful Keepers of those sacred Doors All clad in mournful Blacks which also Load The sacred Walls of this obscure Abode And Tapers of a pitchy substance made With Clouds of smoak increase the dismal Shade A Monster void of Reason and of Sight The Goddess is who sways this Realm of Night Her Power extends o'er all things that have breath A Cruel Tyrant and her Name is Death The fairest Object of our wond'ring Eyes Was newly offer'd up her Sacrifice Th' adjoining places where the Altar stood Yet blushing with the fair Almeria's Blood When griev'd Orontes whose unhappy flame Is known to all that e'er converse with Fame His mind possest by Fury and Despair Within the Sacred Temple made this Prayer Great Deity Who in thy hands do'st bear That rusty Scepter which poor Mortals fear Who wanting Eyes thy self respectest none And neither spares the Laurel nor the Crown Oh thou whom all Mankind in vain withstands Each of whose Blood must one day stain thy Hands Oh thou who every Eye which sees the Light Closest again in an eternal Night Open thy Ears and hearken to my Grief To which thy only Power can give Relief I Come not hither to prolong my Fate But wish my wretched Life a shorter date And that the Earth would in its Bowels hide A Wretch whom Heaven invades on every side That from the sight of Day I could remove And might have nothing left me but my Love Thou only Comforter of Minds opprest The Port where wearied Spirits are at rest Conducter to Elyzium Take my Life My Breast I offer to thy Sacred Knife So just a Grace refuse not nor despise A Willing though a Worthless Sacrifice Others their frail and mortal State forgot Before thy Altars are not to be brought Without constraint the noise of dying rage Heaps of the Slain of every Sex and Age The blade all reeking in the gore it shed With sever'd Heads and Arms confus'dly spread The Rapid Flames of a perpetual fire The Groans of Wretches ready to expire This Tragick Scene makes them in Terrour Live Till that is forc'd which they should freely give Yielding unwillingly what Heaven will have Their fears eclipse the Glory of their Grave Before thy Face they make undecent moan And feel a hundred Deaths in fearing one The flame becomes unhallow'd in their Breast And he a Murtherer who was a Priest His Hands profan'd in breaking Nature's Chain By which the Body does the Soul detain But against me thy strongest Forces call And on my Head let all the Tempest fall No shrinking back shall any weakness shew And Calmly I 'll expect the fatal blow My Limbs not trembling in my mind no fear Plaints in my Mouth nor in my Eyes a Tear Think not that time our wonted sure relief That universal Cure for every grief Whose aid so many Lovers oft have found With like success can ever heal my wound Too weak's the Power of Nature or of Art Nothing but Death can ease a broken heart And that thou mayst behold my helpless state Learn the extreamest rigour of my Fate Amidst th' innumerable beauteous Train Paris the Queen of Cities does contain The fairest Town the largest and the best So fair Almeria shin'd above the rest From her bright Eyes to feel a hopeless flame Was of our Youth the most ambitious aim Her Chains were marks of Honour to the Brave She made a Prince when e'er she made a Slave Love under whose Tyrannick Power I groan Shew'd me this Beauty e'er 't was fully blown Her tim'rous Charms and her unpractis'd Look Their first assurance from my Conquest took By wounding me she learnt the fatal Art And the first sigh she had was from my Heart My Eyes with Tears moist'ning her snowy Arms Render'd the Tribute owing to her Charms But as I soonest of all Mortals paid My Vows and to her Beauty Altars made So among all those Slaves that sigh'd in vain She thought me only worthy of my Chain Loves heavy burden my Submissive Heart Endur'd not long before she bore her part My violent flame melted her frozen Breast And in soft Sighs her pity she exprest Her gentle Voice allay'd my raging Pains And her fair hands Sustain'd me in my Chains Even Tears of Pity waited on my moan And tender Looks were cast on me alone My hopes and dangers were less mine than hers Those filled her Soul with Joys and these with Fears Our hearts united had the same desires And both alike burn'd in Impatient Fires Too Faithful Memory I give thee Leave Thy wretched Master kindly to deceive Make me not once possessor of her Charms Let me not find her Languish in my Arms Past Joys are now my Fancies mournful Theams Make all my happy Nights appear but Dreams Let not that Bliss before my Eyes be brought Oh! hide those Scenes from my tormenting Thought And in their place Disdainful Beauty shew If thou would'st not be cruel make her so And something to abate my deep Despair Oh let her seem less Gentle or less Fair. But I in vain flatter my wounded Mind Never was Nymph so Lovely or so Kind No cold Repulses my Desires supprest I seldom sigh'd but on Almeria's Breast Of all the Passions which Mankind destroy I only felt excess of Love and Joy Numberless Pleasures charm'd my Sense and they Were as my Love without the least Allay As pure alas but not so sure to last For like a pleasing Dream they all are past From Heav'n her Beauty like fierce Light'ning came Which breaks through Darkness with its Glorious Flame A while it Shines a while our Sight it chears But soon the short-liv'd Comfort disappears And

blow Swift Executors of his holy Word Whirlwinds and Tempest praise the Almighty Lord Mountains who to your Maker's View Seem less than Mole-Hills do to you Remember how when first Jehovah spoke All Heaven was Fire and Sinai hid in Smoak Praise him sweet Off-spring of the Ground With Heavenly Nectar yearly Crown'd And ye tall Cedars celebrate his Praise That in his Temple Sacred Altars raise Idle Musicians of the Spring Whose only cares to Love and Sing Fly thro the World and let your trembling Throat Praise your Creatour with the sweetest Note Praise him each Salvage Furious Beast That on his Stores do daily feast And you tame Slaves of the Laborious Plow Your weary Knees to your Creatour bow Majestick Monarchs Mortal Gods Whose Power hath here no Periods May all Attempts against your Crown be vain But still remember by whose power you Raign Let the wide World his Praises sing Where Tagus and Euphrates spring And from the Danube frosty Banks to those Where from an unknown head great Nilus flows You that dispose of all our Lives Praise him from whom your power derives Be True and Just like him and fear his Word As much as Malefactors do your Sword Praise him old Monuments of Time O praise him in your Youthful prime Praise him fair Idols of our greedy Sence Exalt his Name sweet Age of Innocence Jehovah's Name shall only last When Heaven Earth and all is past Nothing Great God is to be found in Thee But Unconceivable Eternity Exalt O Jacob's Sacred Race The God of Gods the God of Grace Who will above the Stars your Empire raise And with His Glory Recompence your Praise TO ORINDA An Imitation of HORACE By the Earl of Roscommon Integer vitae c. Carm. Lib. 1. Od. 22. I. VIrtue dear Friend needs no defence No Arms but it s own Innocence Quivers and Bows and poison'd Darts Are only us'd by guilty Hearts II. An honest mind safely alone May travel through the burning Zone Or through the deepest Scythian Snows Or where the fam'd Hydaspes flows III. While rul'd by a resistless fire Our Great ORINDA I Admire The hungry Wolves that see me stray Unarm'd and single run away IV. Set me in the remotest place That ever Neptune did embrace When there her Image fills my Breast Helicon is not half so blest V. Leave me upon some Libyan Plain So she my Fancy entertain And when the thirsty Monsters meet They 'll all pay homage to my Feet VI. The Magick of ORINDA's Name Not only can their fierceness tame But if that mighty word I once rehearse They seem submissively to roar in Verse THE GROVE By the same Author AH happy Grove Dark and secure retreat Of Sacred silence Rest's Eternal Seat How well your cool and unfrequented shade Suits with the chaste retirements of a Maid Oh! If kind Heav●n had been so much my friend To make my Fate upon my choice depend All my ambition I would here confine And only this Elyzium should be mine Fond Men by Passion wilfully betray'd Adore those Idols which their fancy made Purchasing Riches with our time and care We lose our freedom in a gilded Snare And having all all to our selves refuse Opprest with Blessings which we fear to use Fame is at best but an inconstant good Vain are the boasted Titles of our Blood We soonest lose what we most highly prise And with our Youth our short-liv'd Beauty dies In vain our Fields and Flocks increase our store If our abundance makes us wish for more How happy is the harmless Country Maid Who rich by Nature scorns superfluous aid Whose modest Cloaths no wanton eyes invite But like her Soul preserves the Native White Whose little store her well-taught Mind does please Not pinch'd with want nor cloyd with wanton ease Who free from Storms which on the Great Ones fall Makes but few Wishes and enjoys them all No care but Love can discompose her Breast Love of all Cares the sweetest and the best Whil'st on sweet Grass her bleating Charge does lie Our happy Lover feeds upon her eye Not one on whom or Gods or Men impose But one whom Love has for this Lover chose Under some favourite Myrtle's shady Boughts They speak their Passions in repeated Vows And whilst a Blush confesses how she burns His faithful heart makes as sincere returns Thus in the Arms of Love and Peace they lie And whilst they Live their flames can never die THE DUEL OF THE STAGS Written by the Honourable Sir ROBERT HOWARD IN Windsor Forest before War destroy'd The harmless Pleasures which soft Peace injoy'd A mighty Stag grew Monarch of the Heard By all his Savage Slaves obey'd and fear'd And while the Troops about their Soveraign fed They watch't the awful nodding of his Head Still as he passeth by they all remove Proud in Dominion Prouder in his Love And while with Pride and Appetite he swells He courts no chosen object but compels No Subject his lov'd Mistress dares deny But yields his hopes up to his Tyranny Long had this Prince imperiously thus sway'd By no set Laws but by his Will obey'd His fearful Slaves to full Obedience grown Admire his strength and dare not use their own One Subject most did his suspicion move That show'd least Fear and counterfeited Love In the best Pastures by his side he fed Arm'd with two large Militia's on his head As if he practis'd Majesty he walk't And at his Nod he made not haste but stalk't By his large shade he saw how great he was And his vast Layers on the bended Grass His thoughts as large as his proportion grew And judg'd himself as fit for Empire too Thus to rebellious hopes he swell'd at length Love and Ambition growing with his strength This hid Ambition his bold Passion shows And from a Subject to a Rival grows Sollicits all his Princes fearful Dames And in his sight Courts with rebellious flames The Prince sees this with an inflamed Eye But Looks are only signs of Majesty When once a Prince's Will meets a restraint His Power is then esteem'd but his Complaint His Head then shakes at which th' affrighted Heard Start to each side his Rival not afear'd Stands by his Mistress side and stirs not thence But bids her own his Love and his Defence The Quarrel now to a vast height is grown Both urg'd to fight by Passion and a Throne But Love has most excuse for all we find Have Passions tho' not Thrones alike assign'd The Soveraign Stag shaking his loaded head On which his Scepters with his Arms were spread Wisely by Nature there together fix't Where with the Title the Defence was mixt The Pace which he advanc'd with to engage Became at once his Majesty and Rage T'other stands still with as much confidence To make his part seem only his defence Their heads now meet and at one blow each strikes As many strokes as if a Rank of Pikes Grew on his Brows as thick their

will seign Though I break my Heart disdain But lest I too unkind appear For ev'ry Frown I 'll shed a Tear And if in vain I court thy Love Let mine at least thy pity move Ah while I scorn vouchsafe to woo Methinks you may dissemble too Streph. Ah Phillis that you wou'd contrive A way to keep my Love alive But all your other Charms must fail When Kindness ceases to prevail Alas No less than you I grieve My dying flame has no reprieve For I can never hope to find Shou'd all the Nymphs I Court be kind One Beauty able to renew Those Pleasures I enjoy in you When Love and Youth did both conspire To fill our Breasts and Veins with fire 'T is true some other Nymph may gain That Heart which merits your Disdain But second Love has still allay The Joys grow aged and decay Then blame me not for losing more Than Love and Beauty can restore And let this truth thy comfort prove I wou'd but can no longer Love THE DIVIDED HEART By the same Author AH Celia that I were but sure Thy Love like mine cou'd still endure That Time and Absence which destroy The Cares of Lovers and their Joy Cou'd never rob me of that part Which you have giv'n me of your Heart Others unenvy'd might possess Whole Hearts and boast that Happiness 'T was Nobler Fortune to divide The Roman Empire in her Pride Than on some low and barb'rous Throne Obscurely plac'd to rule alone Love only from thy Heart exacts The several Debts thy Face contracts And by that new and juster way Secures thy Empire and his sway Fav'ring but one he might compel The hopeless Lover to rebel But shou'd he other Hearts thus share That in the whole so worthless are Shou'd into several Squadrons draw That strength which kept entire cou'd awe Men would his scatter'd Powers deride And conqu'ring Him those spoils divide To Mr. J. N. on his Translations out of French and Italian By the same Author WHile others toil our Country to supply With what we need only for Luxury Spices and Silk in the rich East provide To glut our Avarice and feed our Pride You Foreign Learning prosperously transmit To raise our Virtue and provoke our Wit Such brave Designs your Gen'rous Soul inflame To be a bold Adventurer for Fame How much oblig'd are Italy and France While with your Voice their Musick you advance Your growing Fame with Envy can oppose Who sing with no less Art than they Compose In these Attempts so few have had success Their Beauties suffer in our English Dress By Artless Hands spoil'd of their Native Ayr They seldom pass from moderately fair As if you meant these Injuries to atone You give them Charms more Conqu'ring than their own Not like the dull laborious Flatterer With secret Art those Graces you confer The skilful Painters with slight stroaks impart That subtil Beauty which affects the Heart There are who publickly profess they hate Translations and yet all they Write Translate So proud they scorn to drive a Lawful Trade Yet by their Wants are shameless Pirates made These you incense while you their Thefts reveal Or else prevent in what they meant to steal From all besides you are secure of praise But you so high our Expectation raise A gen'ral Discontent we shall declare If such a Workman only should repair You to the Dead your Piety have shewn Adorn'd their Monuments now build your own Drawn in the East we in your Lines may trace That Genius which of old inspir'd the place The banish'd Muses back to Greece you bring Where their best Airs you so Divinely sing The World must own they are by you restor'd To sacred shades where they were first ador'd Virtue 's Urania By the same Author HOpeless I languish out my Days Struck with Vrania's Conqu'ring Eyes The Wretch at whom she darts these rays Must feel the Wound until he dies Though endless be her Cruelty Calling her Beauties to my Mind I bow beneath her Tyranny And dare not murmur she 's unkind Reason this tameness does upbraid Proff'ring to arm in my defence But when I call her to my aid She 's more a Traytor than my sense No sooner I the War declare But strait her succour she denies And joyning Forces with the Fair Confirms the Conquest of her Eyes SYLVIA By the same Author THe Nymph that undoes me is Fair and Unkind No less than a Wonder by Nature design'd She 's the Grief of my Heart the Joy of my Eye And the cause of a Flame that never can die Her Mouth from whence Wit still obligingly flows Has the Beautiful Blush and the Smell of the Rose Love and Destiny both attend on her Will She wounds with a Look with a Frown she can kill The Desperate Lover can hope no redress Where Beauty and Rigour are both in excess In Sylvia they meet so unhappy am I Who sees her must Love and who Loves her must die TO CELIA By Sir Charles Sedley AS in those Nations where they yet adore Marble and Cedar and their aid implore 'T is not the Workman nor the precious Wood But 't is the Worshipper that makes the God So cruel Fair tho Heaven has giv'n thee all We Mortals Virtue or can Beauty call 'T is we that give the Thunder to your Frowns Darts to your Eyes and to our selves the Wounds Without our Love which proudly you deride Vain were your Beauty and more vain your Pride All envy'd Beings that the World can shew Still to some meaner thing their greatness owe. Subjects make Kings and we the numerous Train Of Humble Lovers Constitute thy Reign This difference only Beauties Realm may boast Where most it favours it enslaves the most And they to whom it is indulgent found Are ever in the rudest Fetters bound What Tyrant yet but thee was ever known Cruel to those that serv'd to make him one Valour 's a Vice if not with Honour joyn'd And Beauty a Disease when 't is not kind THE SUBMISSION By the same Author AH Pardon Madam if I ever thought Your smallest Favours could too dear be bought And the just greatness of your Servant's Flame I did the poorness of their Spirits Name Calling their due attendance Slavery Your power of Life and Death flat Tyranny Since now I yield and do confess there is No way too hard that leads to such a bliss So when Hippomanes beheld the Race Where Loss was Death and Conquest but a Face He stood amazed at the fatal strife Wondring that Love shou'd dearer be than Life But when he saw the Prize no longer staid But through those very dangers sought the Maid And won her too O may his Conquest prove A happy Omen to my purer Love Which if the honour of all Victory In the resistance of the Vanquisht lie Though it may be the least regarded Prize Is not the smallest Trophy of your Eyes CONSTANCY By the same Author FEar not My Dear a

much to blame To blow the fire and wonder at the flame I did converse 't is true so far was mine But that I Lov'd and hop'd was wholly thine Not hop'd as others do for a return But that I might without offending burn I thought those Eyes which every hour enslave Could not remember all the Wounds they gave Forgotten in the Crowd I wisht to lie And of your Coldness not your Anger die Yet since you know I Love 't is now no time Longer to hide let me excuse the Crime Seeing what Laws I to my Passion give Perhaps you may consent that it should live First It never shall a hope advance Of waiting on you but by seeming chance I at a distance will Adore your Eyes As awful Persians do the Eastern Skies I never will presume to think of Sex Nor with gross Thoughts my Deathless Love perplex I tread a pleasant path without design And to thy care my Happiness resign From Heaven it self thy Beauty cannot be A freer Gift than is my Love to Thee TO A Devout Young Woman By the same Author PHillis this mighty Zeal asswage You over-act your part The Martyrs at your tender Age Gave Heaven but half their Heart Old Men till past the Pleasure ne'er Declaim against the Sin 'T is early to begin to fear The Devil at Fifteen The World to Youth is too severe And like a Treacherous Light Beauty the Actions of the Fair Exposes to their sight And yet this World as old as 't is Is oft deceiv'd by 't too Wise Combinations seldom miss Let 's try what we can do SONG By the same Author WHEN Aurelia first became The Mistress of his Heart So mild and gentle was her Reign Thyrsis in hers had part Reserves and Care he laid aside And gave his Love the Reins The headlong course he now must bide No other way remains At first her Cruelty he fear'd But that being overcome No second for a while appear'd And he thought all his own He call'd himself a happier Man Than ever Lov'd before Her Favours still his Hopes out-ran What Mortal can have more Love smil'd at first then looking grave Said Thyrsis leave to boast More joy than all her kindness gave Her Fickleness will cost He spoke and from that fatal time All Thyrsis did or said Appear'd unwelcome or a Crime To the Ungrateful Maid Then he despairing of her Heart Would fain have had his own Love answered such a Nymph could part With nothing she had won On the Lamented DEATH Of the Late Countess of DORSET By N. Tate Servant to Their Majesties HOME Shepherds to your Cottages retire Your Dorset Mourns no more the Pipe inspire Your Mirth is done your Care is vain what need To Tend those Flocks that will no longer Feed Nature her self concern'd for Him appears Sables for his and her lost Darling wears She Sighs in Storms and Weeps in Seas of Tears Ev'n Earth that does the precious Relicks shroud Laments the Treasure that shou'd make her Proud Alone exempted from the gen'ral Care The Skies rejoyce to have regain'd their Star Profane Disease The Crime had been too great In only Batt'ring of so fair a Seat Which spightfully thou quite hast undermin'd Because the bright Remains would still have shin'd So Envious Rome no Method cou'd employ Fair Carthage to Subdue but to Destroy Mute are the Groves where Happy Shepherds sung And Philomel once more has lost her Tongue The Palm and Myrtle Glades no longer please Cypress and Yew are now the only Trees The ruthfull'st Objects most Endearments have The Uncouth Vale Delights and gloomy Cave Can please because it represents the Grave Tears our Refreshment are our sole Relief To give Despair free scope To set the Sluces ope And Rowl with the Impetuous Tide of Grief Let the next Age the costly Tomb prepare To her shrin'd Image come and seek her there The Present rears beyond the Pow'r of Art A breathing Monument in ev'ry Heart What Rhet'rick can divorce what Charms of Verse The Sighing Mother from her Darling's Hearse To trace her Features and her Virtues paint In Form an Angel as in Life a Saint Are Themes ill suited to a Parent 's Grief The Food of Sorrow an unkind Relief One only Sov'raign Balm sick Nature bears A Sympathizing Royal Mourners Tears Though Gods nor Goddesses may Fate reverse Our Goddess Weeping Consecrates the Hearse Behold forlorn the Muses Patron laid With Mourning Cupids in the Cypress shade Of Fate nor cruel Skies he once complains But inwardly the Conflict deep sustains The strugling Tumult in his Breast restrains O DORSET cou'd our Worthless Live pretend Whose Comforts only on thy Smiles depend To Bribe thy Griefs how pleas'd cou'd we resign Our Breaths compounding for one Pang of thine Our Useless Breaths are tender'd now in vain Since Tuneful Notes no more must chear the Plain Let Numbers cease for whom shou'd they relieve That can no Comfort to their Patron give Yet DORSET Live in pity to the Age That to Condole thy Loss forgets its Rage The Impious Age still from one Crime is free Mad with Intestine Strife we all agree As in Admiring in Lamenting Thee Let those dear Pledges Intercede at least The Living Relicks of the Fair Deceas'd Till Infant Beauty to full Bloom arrives The Mother's Virtues and her Charms revives Till Dawning Buckhurst to his Zenith rise And gild like you and warm our Northern Skies Till then Indulge our dearest Wishes scope Next Age's DORSET Britain's second Hope TO CHLORIS By Sir Charles Sedley CHloris I cannot say your Eyes Did my unwary Heart surprize Nor will I swear it was your Face Your Shape or any nameless Grace For you are so entirely Fair To Love a part injustice were No drowing Man can know which drop Of water his last breath did stop So when the Stars in Heaven appear And joyn to make the Night look clear The Light we no one's Bounty call But the united work of all He that both Lips or Hands adore Deserves them only and no more But I Love all and every part And nothing less can ease my Heart Cupid that Lover weakly strikes Who can express what 't is he likes SONG By the same Author AVrelia Art thou mad To let the World in me Envy Joys I never had And censure them in Thee Fill'd with grief for what is past Let us at length be wise And the Banquet boldly taste Since we have paid the price Love does easie Souls despise Who lose themselves for Toys And Escape for those devise Who taste his utmost Joys To be thus for Trifles blam'd Like theirs a Folly is Who are for vain Swearing Damn'd And knew no higher Bliss Love should like the Year be Crown'd With sweet variety Hope should in the Spring be found Kind Fears and Jealousie In the Summer Flowers should rise And in the Autumn Fruit His Spring doth else but mock our Eyes And in a Scoff Salute SONG By the same