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Ah, Love forbid! the noblest of thy train
Should not survive to let her know his pain;
Who nor his peril minding, nor his flame,
Is entertain'd with some less serious game,
Among the bright nymphs of the Gallic court,
All highly born, obsequious to her sport;
They roses seem, which in their early pride
But half reveal, and half their beauties hide;
She the glad morning, which her beams does throw
Upon their smiling leaves, and gilds them so;
Like bright Aurora, whose refulgent ray
Foretells the fervour of ensuing day,

And warns the shepherd with his flocks retreat
To leafy shadows from the threaten'd heat.

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From Cupid's string, of many shafts that fled Wing'd with those plumes which noble Fame had shed, As through the wond'ring world she flew, and told Of his adventures, haughty, brave, and bold, Some had already touch'd the royal maid, But Love's first summons seldom are obey'd; Light was the wound, the Prince's care unknown, She might not, would not, yet reveal her own. His glorious name had so possess'd her ears, That with delight those antique tales she hears Of Jason, Theseus, and such worthies old, As with his story best resemblance hold. And now she views, as on the wall it hung, What old Musæus so divinely sung; Which art with life and love did so inspire, That she discerns and favours that desire, Which there provokes th' advent'rous youth to swim, And in Leander's danger pities him;

Whose not new love alone, but fortune, seeks

To frame his story like that amorous Greek's.

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For from the stern of some good ship appears
A friendly light, which moderates their fears;
New courage from reviving hope they take,
And climbing o'er the waves that taper make,
On which the hope of all their lives depends,
As his on that fair Hero's hand extends.

The ship at anchor, like a fixed rock,

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Breaks the proud billows which her large sides knock; Whose rage restrained, foaming higher swells,

And from her port the weary barge repels,

Threat'ning to make her, forced out again,
Repeat the dangers of the troubled main.
Twice was the cable hurl'd in vain; the Fates
Would not be movèd for our sister states;
For England is the third successful throw,
And then the genius of that land they know,
Whose prince must be (as their own books devise)
Lord of the scene where now his danger lies.

Well sung the Roman bard, 'All human things
Of dearest value hang on slender strings.'
Oh, see the then sole hope, and, in design
Of Heaven, our joy, supported by a line!
Which for that instant was Heaven's care above
The chain that's fixed to the throne of Jove,
On which the fabric of our world depends;
One link dissolved, the whole creation ends.

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OF HIS MAJESTY'S RECEIVING THE NEWS
OF THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM'S DEATH.1

So earnest with thy God! can no new care,
No sense of danger, interrupt thy prayer?
The sacred wrestler, till a blessing given,
Quits not his hold, but halting conquers Heaven;
Nor was the stream of thy devotion stopp'd,
When from the body such a limb was lopp'd,
As to thy present state was no less maim,
Though thy wise choice has since repair'd the same.
Bold Homer durst not so great virtue feign
In his best pattern: 2 of Patroclus slain,
With such amazement as weak mothers use,
And frantic gesture, he receives the news.
Yet fell his darling by th' impartial chance
Of war, imposed by royal Hector's lance;
Thine, in full peace, and by a vulgar hand
Torn from thy bosom, left his high command.
The famous painter 3 could allow no place
For private sorrow in a prince's face:
Yet, that his piece might not exceed belief,
Ile cast a veil upon supposed grief.
'Twas want of such a precedent as this

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Made the old heathen frame their gods amiss.
Their Phoebus should not act a fonder part
For the fair boy, than he did for his heart;
Nor blame for Hyacinthus' fate his own,
That kept from him wish'd death, hadst thou been known.

''Buckingham's death': Buckingham was murdered by Felton at Portsmouth, on the 23d of August 1628, while equipping a fleet for the relief of Rochelle. Lord Lindsey succeeded him. The king was at prayers when the news arrived, and had the resolution to disguise his emotion till they were over.-2 Pattern': Achilles.- Painter': Timanthes in his picture of Iphigenia.Fair boy': Cyparissus.

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He that with thine shall weigh good David's deeds, Shall find his passion, nor his love, exceeds:

He cursed the mountains where his brave friend died,
But let false Ziba with his heir divide;

Where thy immortal love to thy bless'd friends,
Like that of Heaven, upon their seed descends.
Such huge extremes inhabit thy great mind,
Godlike, unmoved, and yet, like woman, kind!
Which of the ancient poets had not brought
Our Charles's pedigree from Heaven, and taught
How some bright dame, compress'd by mighty Jove,
Produced this mix'd Divinity and Love?

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ON THE TAKING OF SALLÈ1

OF Jason, Theseus, and such worthies old,
Light seem the tales antiquity has told;
Such beasts and monsters as their force oppress'd,
Some places only, and some times, infest.

Salle, that scorn'd all power and laws of men,

Goods with their owners hurrying to their den,
And future ages threat'ning with a rude
And savage race, successively renew'd;
Their king despising with rebellious pride,
And foes profess'd to all the world beside;
This pest of mankind gives our hero fame,
And through the obliged world dilates his name.
The prophet once to cruel Agag said,

'As thy fierce sword has mothers childless made,
So shall the sword make thine;' and with that word
He hew'd the man in pieces with his sword.

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''Sallè': Sallè, a town of Fez, given to piracy, was taken and destroyed in 1632 by the army of the Emperor of Morocco, assisted by some English vessels.

Just Charles like measure has return'd to these
Whose Pagan hands had stain'd the troubled seas;
With ships they made the spoiled merchant mourn;
With ships their city and themselves are torn.
One squadron of our winged castles sent,
O'erthrew their fort, and all their navy rent;
For, not content the dangers to increase,
And act the part of tempests in the seas,
Like hungry wolves, those pirates from our shore
Whole flocks of sheep, and ravish'd cattle bore.
Safely they might on other nations prey-
Fools to provoke the sovereign of the sea!
Mad Cacus so, whom like ill fate persuades,
The herd of fair Alcmena's seed invades,
Who for revenge, and mortals' glad relief,
Sack'd the dark cave and crush'd that horrid thief.
Morocco's monarch, wond'ring at this fact,

Save that his presence his affairs exact,
Had come in person to have seen and known
The injured world's revenger and his own.
Hither he sends the chief among his peers,
Who in his bark proportion'd presents bears,
To the renown'd for piety and force,

Poor captives manumised, and matchless horse.1

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UPON HIS MAJESTY'S REPAIRING OF
ST PAUL'S.2

THAT shipwreck'd vessel which th' Apostle bore,
Scarce suffer'd more upon Melita's shore,

Horse': the Emperor of Morocco, in gratitude to Charles, sent him a present of Barbary horses, and three hundred manumitted Christian slaves.2St Paul's': these repairs commenced in the spring of 1633.

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