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ON CHLORIS WALKING IN THE SNOW.

I saw fair CHLORIS walk alone,
When feathered rain came softly down;
Then Jove descended from his Tower,
To court her in a silver shower.

The wanton snow flew to her breast,
Like little birds into their nest;
But overcome with whiteness there,
For grief, it thawed into a tear :
Then falling down her garment hem,
(To deck her) froze into a gem.

WHEN THIRSIS did the splendid eye
Of Phillis, his fair Mistress, spy,
•Was ever such a glorious Queen,'
Said he, ‘unless above 'twere seen!'

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Fair PHILLIS, with a blushing Air,
Hearing those words, became more fair.
‘Away!' says he, You need not take
Fresh beauty, you more fair to make!'

Then, with a winning smile and look,
His candid flattery she took.
"O stay!' said he, 'tis done, I vow!
THIRSIS is captivated now!'

FINE young Folly! though you were
That fair Beauty I did swear ;
Yet you ne'er could reach my heart !

For we, Courtiers, learn at school,

Only with your Sex to fool!
Y' are not worth the serious part!

When I sigh, and kiss your hand
Cross my arms, and wond'ring stand,
Holding parley with your eye;

Then dilate on my desires,

Swear, the sun ne'er shot such fires : All is but a handsome lie!

When I eye your curl, or lace,
Gentle Soul ! you think your face
Straight some murder doth commit!

And your virtue doth begin

To grow scrupulous of my sin : When I talk, to show my wit!

Therefore, Madam, wear no cloud !
Nor, to check my love, grow proud!
For, in sooth, I much do doubt

'Tis the powder in your hair,

Not your breath, perfumes the air ! And your clothes, that set you out!

Yet though truth hath this confest;
And I vow, I love in jest !
When I next begin to court,

And protest an amorous flame;

You will swear I, in earnest am ! Bedlam! This is pretty sport!

VERSES

WRITTEN AT THE TIME OF THE EXECUTION OF

THOMAS WENTWORTH, EARL OF STRAFFORD;

AND IN HIS NAME.

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Go, empty joys,

With all your noise;
And leave me here alone,
In sweet sad silence, to bemoan

Your vain and fleet delight!
Whose danger, none can see aright;
Whilst your false splendour dims his sight.

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Go, and insnare,

With your false ware,
Some other easy wight;
And cheat him, with your flattering light!

Rain on his head, a shower
Of Honours, Favour, Wealth, and Power!
Then, snatch it from him in an hour!

Fill his big mind
With gallant wind

Of insolent applause!
Let him not fear all-curbing Laws !

Nor King! nor people's frown !
But dream of something like a crown;
Then, climbing towards it, tumble down!

Let him appear,

In his bright Sphere,
Like CYNTHIA in her pride;
With star-like troops on every side!

Such, for their number and their light,
As may, at last, o'erwhelm him quite;
And blend us both in one dead night.

Welcome, sad Night;

Grief's sole delight! Your mourning best agrees With Honour's funeral obsequies !

In Thetis lap he lies, Mantled with soft securities; Whose too much sunshine blinds his eyes!

Was he too bold,

That needs would hold, With curbing reins, the Day; And make Sol's fiery steeds obey ?

Then, sure, as rash was I ! Who, with ambitious wings, did fly In CHARLES his Wain too loftily!

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