Et substracta sibi quaereret arma dolor,
Nondum scitis, ait, mortem non posse negari,
Credideram satis hoc vos docuisse patrem.
Dixit, et ardentes avido bibit ore favillas.
I nunc, et ferrum turba molesta nega.
IN ENGLISH.
When Portia her dear lord’s sad fate did hear,
And noble grief sought arms were hid from her:
Know you not yet no hinderance of death is,
Cato, I thought, enough had taught you this,
So said, her thirsty lips drink flaming coales:
Go now, deny me steel, officious fools!
TELL me, ALEXIS, what this parting is,That so like dying is, but is not it?Alexis.It is a swounding for a while from blisse,‘Till kind HOW DOE YOU call’s us from the fit.Chorus.If then the spirits only stray, let mineFly to thy bosome, and my soule to thine:Thus in our native seate we gladly giveOur right…
Doctum et grammaticum te, philomuse, putas.Quinetiam cytharas, chordas et barbita conde:Mercator hodie, cras citharoedus, eris.IN ENGLISH.Because with bought books, sir, your study’s fraught,A learned grammarian you would fain be thought;Nay then, buy lutes and strings; so you may playThe merchant now, the fidler, the next day.
Who now her cheerful aromatick headShrinks in her cold and dismal widow’d bed;Whilst the false sun her lover doth him moveBelow, and to th’ antipodes make love.What fate was mine, when in mine obscure cave(Shut up almost close prisoner in a grave)Your beams could reach me through this vault of night,And canton the dark dungeon…
Even and glorious, as the sunne,Gratiana steeres that noble frame,Soft as her breast, sweet as her voyce,That gave each winding law and poyze,And swifter then the wings of Fame.II.She beat the happy pavementBy such a starre-made firmament,Which now no more the roofe envies;But swells up high with Atlas ev’n,Bearing the brighter, nobler Heav’n,And in her,…
The ballance of thy streins,Which seems, in stead of sifting pure,T’ extend and rack thy veins?Thy Odes first their own harmony did break:For singing, troth, is but in tune to speak.II.Nor trus thy golden feet and wings.It may be thought false melodyT’ ascend to heav’n by silver strings;This is Urania’s heraldry.Thy royal poem now we…
Whilst this foot doth the watry mount aspire,That Sinai’s living and enlivening fire,Behold my powers storm’d by a twisted lightO’ th’ Sun and his, first kindled his sight,And my lost thoughts invoke the prince of day,My right to th’ spring of it and him do pray.Say, happy youth, crown’d with a heav’nly rayOf the first…
