The meads with cowslip, honeysuckle 's dight, One hangs his head, the other stands upright, But both rejoice at th' heaven's clear smiling face, More at her showers, which water them a space. For fruits, my season yields, the early cherry, The hasty pease, and wholesome red strawberry.

Epitaph for Queen ELIZABETH.

HERE sleeps the Queen; this is the royal bed,
O' th' damask rose, sprung from the white and red,
Whose sweet perfume fills the all-filling air,
This Rose is wither'd, once so lovely fair;
On neither tree did grow such rose before,
The greater was our gain, our loss the more.

ANONYMOUS AUTHORESS.

The following extract is made from a small volume in the British Museum, entitled Eliza's Babes, or the Virgin's Offering, being divine poems and meditations—written by a lady, who only desires to advance the glory of God and not her own. London. 12mo. 1652.

To my Husband.

WHEN from the world I shall be taen,
And from earth's necessary pain,
Then let no blacks be worn for me,
Not in a ring, my dear, by thee.
But this bright diamond, let it be
Worn in rememberance of me.
And when it sparkles in your eye,
Think 'tis my shadow passeth by.
For why, more bright you shall me see,
Than that or any gem can be.

Dress not the house with sable weed,

As if there were some dismal deed
Acted to be when I am gone,

There is no cause for me to mourn.

And let no badge of herald be
The sign of my antiquity.

It was my glory I did spring

From heaven's eternal powerful King;
To his bright palace heir am I,
It is his promise, he'll not lie.
By my dear brother pray lay me,
It was a promise made by thee,
And now I must bid thee adieu,
For I'm a parting now from you.

ANN COLLINS

Wrote Divine songs and meditations, 1653.

SONG.

THE Winter being over,

In order comes the Spring, Which doth green herbs discover,

And cause the birds to sing.

The night also expired,

Then comes the morning bright,

Which is so much desired

By all that love the light.

This may learn

Them that mourn,

To put their grief to flight:

The Spring succeedeth Winter,

And day must follow night.

He therefore that sustaineth

Affliction or distress,

Which every member paineth,
And findeth no release :

Let such therefore despair not, But on firm hope depend, Whose griefs immortal are not, And therefore must have end. They that faint

With complaint

Therefore are to blame :

They add to their afflictions,

And amplify the same.

For if they could with patience
Awhile possess the mind,
By inward consolations
They might refreshing find,
To sweeten all their crosses,
That little time they 'dure:
So might they gain by losses,
And sharp would sweet procure.
But if the mind

Be inclined

To unquietness,

That only may be called
The worst of all distress.

He that is melancholy,
Detesting all delight,
His wits by sottish folly
Are ruinated quite.