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FINCH, Earl of WINCHILSEA (?-1634); THOMAS

FLATMAN (1637-1688); THOMAS

GRAHAM, Marquis of MONTROSE (1612-1650); JAMES.

HABINGTON (1605-1654); WILLIAM

HALL (1627-1656); JOHN

HEATH (c. 1650); ROBERT

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KING, Bishop of CHICHESTER (1592-1669); HENRY

LAWES (1595-1662); HENRY

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LOVELACE (1618-1658); Colonel RICHARD
MARVELL, M.P. (1621-1678); ANDREW.

MAYNE (1604-1672); JASPER

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PHILIPS, the matchless ORINDA (1631-1664); Katharine
QUARLES (1592-1644); FRANCIS

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SACKVILLE, Earl of DORSET (1638-1706); CHARLES
SHERBURNE (1618-1702); Sir EDWARD.

SHIRLEY (1596-1666); JAMES .

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WALTON (1593-1683); ISAAK.

WASHBOURNE, D.D. (1607-1687); Rev. THOMAS .

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301-306

307-312

THE

MILTON

ANTHOLOGY.

1638-1674 A.D.

WHEN I consider, how my light is spent

Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide; And that one talent, which is death to hide, Lodged with me, useless: though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account; lest He returning chide, 'Doth GOD exact day-labour? light denied!' I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, 'GOD doth not need Either Man's work, or his own gifts. Who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best! His State Is kingly. Thousands, at his bidding, speed And post o'er land and ocean without rest. They also serve, who only stand and wait.'

O, NIGHTINGALE! that, on yon bloomy spray,
Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still;
Thou, with fresh hope the Lover's heart dost fill,
While the jolly Hours lead on propitious May.
Thy liquid notes, that close the eye of day,
First heard, before the shallow cuckoo's bill,
Portend success in love. O, if Jove's will
Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay,
Now, timely sing! ere the rude bird of hate

Foretell my hopeless doom, in some grove nigh: As thou, from year to year, hast sung too late For my relief; yet hadst no reason Why? Whether the Muse, or LOVE, call thee his mate: Both them I serve; and of their train am I!

Danger to that good Earl, once President
Of England's Council, and her Treasury,
Who lived in both, unstained with gold or fee;
And let them both, more in himself content:
Fill the sad breaking of that Parliament

Broke him; as that dishonest victory
At Cheronea, fatal to liberty,

Killed, with report, that old man eloquent.
Though later born, than to have known the days
Wherein your father flourished; yet, by you,
Madam, methinks, I see him living yet:
So well your words, his noble virtues praise,
That all both judge you to relate them true,

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