9

Make us more Learned, only to depart?
If Merit be Disease, if Vertue Death;
To be Good, Not to be, who'd then be-
queath

Himself to Discipline? Who'd not esteem
Labour a Crime, Study self-murther deem ?
Our Noble Youth now have pretence to be
Dunces securely, Ign'rant healthfully.
Rare Linguist! whose Worth speaks it self;
whose Praise,

Though not his Own, all Tongues Besides do raise:

Then Whom Great Alexander may seem less,

Who conquer'd Men, but not their Languages. In his Mouth Nations speak; his Tongue might be

Interpreter to Greece, France, Italy.

20

His native Soyl was the four parts o' th' Earth;

All Europe was too narrow for his Birth.

UPON THE DEATH OF THE LORD HASTINGS. Text from the original in Lachrymae Musarum, 1650. The text has never been correctly reprinted in England.

19 speak] English editors give spake This reading makes the passage easier, but it is not likely to be right.

A young Apostle; and (with rev'rence may
I speak 'it) inspir'd with gift of Tongues, as
They.

Nature gave him, a Childe, what Men in vain
Oft strive, by Art though further'd, to obtain.
His body was an Orb, his sublime Soul
Did move on Vertue's and on Learning's
pole:

Whose Reg'lar Motions better to our view, Then Archimedes Sphere, the Heavens did shew.

30

Graces and Vertues, Languages and Arts, Beauty and Learning, fill'd up all the parts. Heav'ns Gifts, which do, like falling Stars,

appear

Scatter'd in Others; all, as in their Sphear, Were fix'd and conglobate in's Soul, and thence

Shone th❜row his Body with sweet Influence;
Letting their Glories so on each Limb fall,
The whole Frame render'd was Celestial.
Come, learned Ptolomy, and tryal make,
If thou this Hero's Altitude canst take; 40
But that transcends thy skill; thrice happie
all,

Could we but prove thus Astronomical. Liv'd Tycho now, struck with this Ray, (which shone

More bright i' th' Morn then others Beam at Noon)

He'd take his Astrolabe, and seek out here What new Star 't was did gild our Hemisphere.

24 'it] English editors give it Perhaps 't should be read. 35 fix'd and] Editors till Christie wrongly omit and

Recall'd it; rapt its Ganymede from us.
Was there no milder way but the Small
Pox,

The very filth'ness of Pandora's Box?
So many Spots, like næves, our Venus soil?
One Jewel set off with so many a Foil?
Blisters with pride swell'd, which th'row's
flesh did sprout

Like Rose-buds, stuck i' th' Lilly-skin about.
Each little Pimple had a Tear in it,
To wail the fault its rising did commit:
Who, Rebel-like, with their own Lord at
strife,

60

With_none_but Ghostly Fathers in the Street?

Grief makes me rail; Sorrow will force its way;

And Show'rs of Tears, Tempestuous Sighs best lay.

90

The Tongue may fail; but over-flowing Eyes

Will weep out lasting streams of Elegies.

But thou, O Virgin-widow, left alone, Now thy Beloved, Heaven-ravisht Spouse is gone,

(Whose skilful Sire in vain strove to apply Med'cines, when thy Balm was no remedy) With greater than Platonick love, O wed His Soul, tho' not his Body, to thy Bed : Let that make thee a Mother; bring thou forth 99

Th' Ideas of his Vertue, Knowledge, Worth;
Transcribe th' Original in new Copies: give
Hastings o' th' better part: so shall he
live

In's Nobler Half; and the great Grandsire be
Of an Heroick Divine Progenie :
An Issue which t' Eternity shall last,
Yet but th' Irradiations which he cast.
Erect no Mausoleums: for his best
Monument is his Spouses Marble brest.

Art she had none, yet wanted none,
For Nature did that Want supply:
So rich in Treasures of her Own,

She might our boasted Stores defy : Such Noble Vigour did her Verse adorn, That it seem'd borrow'd, where 'twas only born.

Her Morals too were in her Bosom bred

By great Examples daily fed,

What in the best of Books, her Father's Life, she read.

And to be read her self she need not fear; Each Test, and ev'ry Light, her Muse will bear, 81

Though Epictetus with his Lamp were there. Ev'n Love (for Love sometimes her Muse exprest),

Was but a Lambent-flame which play'd about her Breast:

Light as the Vapours of a Morning Dream, So cold herself, whilst she such Warmth exprest,

'Twas Cupid bathing in Diana's Stream.

67 atone] attone 1686.

77 Bosom Bosome 1686.

84 Breast] Brest 1686.