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,
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 in 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 shine
Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine.

VI.

Resolve me then, oh soul most surely blest,
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear ;)
Tell me, bright Spirit, where'er thou hoverest,
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,
And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy flight?

VII.

Wart thou some star which from the ruin'd roof
Of shak'd Olympus by mischance didst fall;
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof
Took up, and in fit place did reinstall?

Or did of late earth's sons besiege the wall

Of sheeny Heav'n, and thou some Goddess fled Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head?

VIII.

Or wert thou that just Maid, who once before
Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth,
And cam'st again to visit us once more;

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Or wert thou that sweet-smiling Youth?

Or that crown'd matron sage white rob'd Truth?

Or any other of that heav'nly brood

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Let down in clondy throne to do the world some good?

As if to show what creatures Heav'n doth breed;

Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire

To scorn the sordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire?

X.

But oh! why didst thou not stay here below
To bless us with thy heav'n-lov'd innocence,

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To slake his wrath, whom sin hath made our foe,

To turn swift rushing black perditition hence,
Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence,

To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart?
But thou canst best perform that office where thou art.
Vol. III.

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XI.

Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child,
Her false-imagin'd loss cease to lament,
And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild;
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,
And render him with patience what he lent;
This if thou do, he will an offspring give,

That till the world's last end, shall make thy name to live.

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H.

ANNO ÆTATIS 19.

At a vacation Exercise in the college, part Latin, part English. The Latin speeches ended, the English thus began.

HAIL, native language, that by sinews weak
Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,
And mad'st imperfect words with childish trips,
Half unpronounced, slide through my infant-lips,
Driving dumb Silence from the portal door,
Where he had mutely sat two years before!
Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask,

That now I use thee in my latter task:

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Small loss it is that thence can come unto thee,

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I know my tongue but little grace can do thee:
Thou needst not be ambitious to be first,
Believe me I have thither pack'd the worst:
And, if it happen as I did forecast,

The daintiest dishes shall be serv'd up last.
I pray thee then deny me not thy aid

For this same small neglect that I have made: