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An universal consternation :
His bloody eyes he hurls round, his sharp paws
Tear up the ground; then runs he wild about,
Lashing his angry tail and roaring out.
Beasts creep into their dens, and tremble there ;
Trees, though no wind is stirring, thake with fear;
Silence and horror fill the place around;
Echo itself dares scarce repeat the sound.

COWLEY:

THEIR fictions were often violent and unnatural.

Of his Mistress bathing.
The fish around her crowded, as they do
To the false light that treacherous tilhers shew,
And all with as much ease might taken be,

As she at first took me:
For ne'er did light so clear
Among the waves appear,
Though every night the fun himself set there.

COWLEY

The poetical effect of a lover's name upon glass :

My name engrav’d herein
Doth contribute my firmness to this glass ;

Which, ever since that charm, hath been
As hard as that which grav'd it was.

Donne. THEIR conceits were sentiments fight and trifling.

On an inconftant woman : He enjoys the calmy sunshine now,

And no breath stirring hears, In the clear heaven of thy brow,

No smallest cloud appears.

Не.

-He sees thee gentle, fair and gay,
And trusts the faithless April of thy May.

Mayo Cowley.

Upon a paper written with the juice of lemon, and read by the fire :

Nothing yet in thee is seen,
But when a genial heat warms thee within,
A new-born wood of various lines there grows;

Here buds an L, and there a B,

Here spouts a V, and there a T,
And all the flourishing letters stand in rows.

Cowley.

As they fought only for novelty, they did not much enquire whether their allusions were to things high or low, elegant or gross : whether they compared the little to the great, or the great to the little.

Phyfick and Chirurgery for a Lover.
Gently, ah gently, madam, touch
The wound, which you yourself have made ;

That pain muft needs be very much,
Which makes me of your hand afraid.

Cordials of pity give me now,
For I too weak of purgings grow.

Cowley.

The World and a Clock.
Mahol th’inferior world's fantastic face

Thro' all the turns of matter's maze did trace ;
Great Nature's well-set clock in pieces took ;
On all the springs and smallest wheels did look
Of life and motion, and with equal art
Made up the whole again of every part.

COWLEY.
A coal-

A coal-pit has not often found its poet ; but, that it may not want its due honour, Cleiveland has paralleled it with the Sun:

The moderate value of our guilıless ore
Makes no man atheist, and no woman whore;
Yet why should hallow'd vertal's sacred Thrine
Deserve more honour than a flaming mine?
These pregnant wombs of heat would fitter be,
Than a few embers, for a deity.
Had he our pits, the Persian would admire
No sun, but warm 's devotion at our fire :
He'd leave the trotting whipster, and prefer
Our profound Vulcan 'bove that waggoner.
For wants he heat, or light? or would have store,
Or both ? 'tis here : and what can suns give more?
Nay, what's the sun but, in a different name,
A coal-pit rampant, or a mine on flanie !
Then let this truth reciprocally run,
The sun's heaven's coalery, and coals our sun.

Death, a Voyage :

No family
E’er rigg'd a soul for Heaven's discovery,
With whom more venturers might holdly dare
Venture their stakes, with bim in joy to share.

Donne.

THEIR thoughts and expressions were sometimes grossly absurd, and such as no figures or licence can reconcile to the understanding.

A Lover neither dead nor alive :
Then down I laid my head
Down on cold earth ; and for a while was dead,
And my freed soul to a strange somewhere fled;

Ah,

Ah, sottilh soul, said I,
When back to its cage again I saw it fly;
Fool to resume her broken cliain,
And row her galley here again!

Fool, to that body to return
Where it condemn’d and destin'd is to burn!
Once dead, how can it be,
Death should a thing so pleasant seem to thee,
That thou should'It come to live it o'er again in me?

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A Lover's heart, a hand grenado:

Wo to her stubborn heart, if once mine come

Into the self fame room;
'Twill tear and blow up all within,
Like a grenado shot into a magazin.
Then shall Love keep the ashes, and torn parts,

Of both our broken hearts :

Shall out of both one new one make :
From her's th' allay, from mine the metal take.

COWLEY. .

The poetical Propagation of Light:
The prince's favour is diffus'd o'er all,
From which all fortunes, names, and natures fall:
Then from those wombs of stars, the Bride's bright eyes,

At every glance a constellation flics,
And sowes the court with stars, and doth prevent,

In light and power, the all-ey'd firmament:
First her eye kindles other ladies' eyes,

Then from their beams their jewels' lustres rise :
And from their jewels torches do take fire,
And all is warmih, and light, and good desire.

Doxxe.

Vol. IX.

THEY.

THEY were in very little care to clothe their notions with elegance of dress, and therefore miss the notice and the praise which are often gained by those who think less, but are more diligent to adorn their thoughts.

That a Mistress beloved is fairer in idea than in reality, is by Cowley thus expressed : Thou in my fancy doft much higher stand, Than woman can be plac'd by Nature's hand; And I must needs, I'm sure, a loser be, To change thee as thou’rt there, for very thee.

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. That prayer and labour should co-operate, are thus taught by Donne : In none but us are such mix'd engines found, As hands of double office; for the ground We till with them; and them to heaven we raise; Who prayerless labours, or, without this, prays, Doth but one half, that's none.

By the same author, a common topick, the danger of procrastination, is thus illustrated :

That which I should have begun In my youth's inorning, now late must be done ; * And I, as giddy travellers must do, Which stray or sleep all day, and having lost Light and strength, dark and tir'd, must then ride poft.

All that man has to do is to live and die; the sum of humanity is comprehended by Donne in the following lines :

· Think in how poor a prison thou didst lie;

After enabled but to suck and cry,

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