My spirit some transporting cherub feels To bear me where the towers of Salem stood, Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless blood. 40 There doth my soul in holy vision sit, In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit. VII. Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock For sure so well instructed are my tears VIII. Or, should I thence, hurried on viewless wing, 50 Might think the infection of my sorrows loud Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud. This Subject the Author finding to be above the years he had when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished. SONG ON MAY MORNING. Now the bright morning-star, Day's harbinger, Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire VOL. I. L 146 ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER. Thus we salute thee with our early song, IC WHAT needs my Shakespeare for his honoured bones The labour of an age in pilèd stones? Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid Under a star-ypointing pyramid ? Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, What need'st thou such weak witness of thy name? Thou in our wonder and astonishment Hast built thyself a livelong monument. For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, ΙΟ ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER. Who sickened in the time of his Vacancy, being forbid to go to London by reason of the Plague. HERE lies old Hobson. Death hath broke his girt, Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull. ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER. 147 And surely Death could never have prevailed, In the kind office of a chamberlin IC Showed him his room where he must lodge that night, Pulled off his boots, and took away the light. If any ask for him, it shall be said, "Hobson has supped, and's newly gone to bed." ANOTHER ON THE SAME. HERE lieth one who did most truly prove While he might still jog on and keep his trot; Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime Too long vacation hastened on his term. ΙΟ Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quickened. “Nay,” quoth he, on his swooning bed outstretched, "If I mayn't carry, sure I'll ne'er be fetched, But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers, For one carrier put down to make six bearers." Ease was his chief disease; and, to judge right, He died for heaviness that his cart went light. 20 148 MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER. His leisure told him that his time was come, That even to his last breath (there be that say't), He had been an immortal carrier. Linked to the mutual flowing of the seas; Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase. Only remains this superscription. 30 AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER. THIS rich marble doth inter The honoured wife of Winchester, A Viscount's daughter, an Earl's heir, Added to her noble birth, More than she could own from Earth. After so short time of breath, To house with darkness and with death! Yet, had the number of her days In giving limit to her life. Her high birth and her graces sweet ΤΟ MARCHIONESS OF WINCHESTER. 149 He at their invoking came, But with a scarce well-lighted flame; And now with second hope she goes, Gentle Lady, may thy grave After this thy travail sore, 20 30 40 Sweet rest seize thee evermore, 50 That, to give the world increase, Shortened hast thy own life's lease! Here, besides the sorrowing That thy noble house doth bring, |