So though the beauty do appear

No beauty, which amaz'd me. so ; Yet from my breast I cannot tear

The passion which from thence did grow; Nor yet out of my fancy rase The print of that supposed face.

A real beauty, though too near,

The fond Narcissus did admire; I dote on that which is no where;

The sign of beauty feeds my fire. No mortal flame was e'er so cruel As this, which thus survives the fuel !


Not caring to observe the wind,

Or the new sea explore,
Snatch'd from myself, how far behind

Already I behold the shore !

May not a thousand dangers sleep
In the smooth bosom of this deep?
No: 'tis so rockless and so clear,
That the rich bottom does appear
Pav'd all with precious things; not torn
From shipwreck'd vessels, but there borne.

Sweetness, truth, and every grace,

Which time and use are wont to teach,

The eye may in a moment reach, And read distinctly in her face.

Some other nymphs with colours faint,
And pencil slow, may Cupid paint,
And a weak heart in time destroy;
She has a stamp, and prints the Boy;
Can with a single look inflame
The coldest breast, the rudest tame.


It is not that I love you less,

Than when before your feet I lay; But to prevent the sad increase

Of hopeless love, I keep away.

In vain, alas ! for every thing,

Which I have known belong to you, Your form does to my fancy bring,

And makes my old wounds bleed anew.

Who in the spring, from the new sun,

Already has a fever got,
Too late begins those shafts to shun,

Which Phæbus through his veins has shot :

Too late he would the pain assuage,

And to thick shadows does retire ; About with him he bears the rage,

And in his tainted blood the fire.

But vow'd I have, and never must

Your banish'd servant trouble you ; For if I break, you may mistrust

The vow I made to love you too.


As lately I on silver Thames did ride,
Sad Galatea on the bank I spied:
Such was her look as sorrow taught to shine,
And thus she grac'd me with a voice divine.

GAL. You that can tune your sounding strings so Of ladies' beauties and of love to tell, (well, Once change your note, and let your lute report The justest grief that ever touch'd the Court.

TAYR. Fair nymph! I have in your delights no Nor ought to be concerned in your care; [share, Yet would I sing if I your sorrows knew, And to my aid invoke no Muse but you.

GAL. Hear then, and let your song augment our Which is so great as not to wish relief. [grief,

She that had all which Nature gives, or Chance, Whom Fortune join'd with Virtue to advance To all the joys this island could afford, The greatest mistress and the kindest lord; Who with the royal mixt her noble blood, And in high grace with Gloriana stood; Her bounty, sweetness, beauty, goodness, such That none e'er thought her happiness too much; So well-inclin'd her favours to confer, And kind to all, as Heav'n had been to her! The virgin's part, the mother, and the wife, So well she acted in this span of life, That though few years (too few, alas !) she told, She seem'd in all things but in beauty old. As unripe fruit, whose verdant stalks do cleave Close to the tree, which grieves no less to leave

The smiling pendent which adorns her so,
And until Autumn on the bough should grow ;
So seem'd her youthful soul not eas’ly forc'd,
Or from so fair, so sweet, a seat divorc'd :
Her fate at once did hasty seem and slow;
At once too cruel, and unwilling too.

THYR. Under how hard a law are mortals born!
Whom now we envy, we anon must mourn :
What Heav'n sets highest, and seems most to prize,
Is soon removed from our wondering eyes !
But since the Sisters ' did so soon untwine
So fair a thread, I'll strive to piece the line.
Vonchsafe, sad nymph! to let me know the dame,
And to the Muses I'll commend her name :
Make the wide country echo to your moan,
The listening trees and savage mountains groan.
What rock's not moved when the death is sung
Of one so good, so lovely, and so young? [fore,

GAL. 'Twas Hamilton!-whom I had nam'd be. But naming her, grief lets me say no more.


So we some antique hero's strength
Learn by his lance's weight and length;
As these vast beams express the beast,
Whose shady brows alive they drest.
Such game, while yet the world was new,
The mighty Nimrod did pursue.
What huntsman of our feeble race,
Or dogs, dare such a monster chase?

1 Parcæ.

Resembling, with each blow he strikes,
The charge of a whole troop of pikes.
O fertile head! which every year
Could such a crop of wonder bear!
The teeming earth did never bring,
So soon, so hard, so huge a thing ;
Which might it never have been cast,
(Each year's growth added to the last)
These lofty branches had supplied
The earth's bold sons' prodigious pride:
Heav'n with these engines had been scald,
When mountains heap'd on mountains fail'd.



Balls of this metal slack'd Atlanta's pace,
And on the amorous youth' bestow'd the race:
Venus, (the nymph's mind measuring by her own)
Whom the rich spoils of cities overthrown
Had prostrated to Mars, could well advise
The' adventrous lover how to gain the prize.
Nor less may Jupiter to gold ascribe,
For when he turn'd himself into a bribe,
Who can blame Danae, or the brazen tow'r,
That they withstood not that almighty show'r?
Never till then did love make Jove put on
A form more bright and nobler than his own;
Nor were it jnst, would he resume that shape,
That slack devotion should his thunder scape.

| Hippomenes.

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