Nature's too prodigal to Woman-kind,

Ev'n where she does neglect t'adorn the mind;
Beauty alone bears such resistless sway,

As makes Mankind with Joy and Pride obey.
But oh! when Wit and Senfe with Beauty's joyn'd,
The Woman's fweetness with the manly mind;
When Nature with so just a hand does-mix
The most engaging Charms of either Sex;
And out of both that thus in one combine
Does fomething form not Humane but Divine,
What's her Command, but that we all adore
The noblest Work of her Almighty Power!
Nor ought our Zeal thy Anger to create,
Since Love's thy Debt, nor is our Choice but Fate.

Where Nature bids, worship I'm forc'd to pay,
Nor have the Liberty to disobey.

And whenfoe'er fhe does a Poet make,

She gives him Verfe but for thy Beauty's fake.

Had

Had I a Pen that could at once impart

Soft Ovid's Nature and high Virgil's Art,
Then the immortal Sachariffa's Name

Should be but fecond in the Lift of Fame;

Each Grove each Shade fhould with thy praise be fill'd,

And the fam'd Penshurst to our Windfor yield.

Spoken to the QUEEN in TrinityCollege New-Court in Cambridge.

T

HOU equal Partner of the Royal Bed,

That mak'ft a Crown fit foft on Charles's

Head;

In whom with Greatness, Virtue takes her Seat; Meeknefs with Power, and Piety with State;

Whofe

Whofe Goodness might even Factious Crouds re

Win the Seditious, and the Savage tame;

[claim,

Tyrants themselves to gentlest Mercy bring,
And only useless is on such a King;

See, mighty Princess, see how every Breast,
With Joy and Wonder, is at once poffeft:
Such was the Joy, which the first Mortals knew,
When Gods defcended to the People's View,
Such devout wonder did it then afford,
To fee those Pow'rs they had unfeen ador'd,
But they were Feign'd: nor if they had been true,
Could shed more Bleffings on the Earth than you:
Our Courts enlarg'd, their former Bounds disdain,
To make Reception for fo great a Train;
Here may your facred Breast rejoice to see,
Your own Age strive with Ancient Piety,
Soon now, fince bleft by your aufpicious Eyes,
To full perfection shall our Fabrick rise.

Lefs

Lefs powerful Charms than yours of old could call, The willing Stones into the Theban Wall,

And ours which now its rise to you shall owe, More fam'd than that by your great Name shall

grow.

FLORIANA,

A Pastoral upon the Death of her Grace the Dutchefs of SOUTHAMPTON.

T

DAMON.

ELL me my Thyrfis, tell thy Damon, why

Does my lov'd Swain in this fad posture lye?

What mean these Streams still falling from thine

Eyes,

Faft as thofe Sighs from thy fwoln Bosom rise?

Has

Has the fierce Wolf broke thro' the fenced ground? Have thy Lambs ftray'd? or has Dorinda frown'd?

Thyrfis. The Wolf? Ah! let him come, for now

he may:

Have thy Lambs stray'd? let 'em for ever ftray:
Dorinda frown'd? No, She is ever mild;
Nay, I remember but just now she fmil'd:
Alas! fhe fmil'd; for to the lovely Maid
None had the fatal Tidings yet convey'd :
Tell me then Shepherd, tell me, canst thou find
As long as thou art true, and fhe is kind,
A Grief fo great, as may prevail above

Even Damon's Friendship, or Dorinda's Love? Damon. Sure there is none. Thyrs. But, Damon, there may be:

What if the charming Floriana die?

Dam. Far be the Omen! Thyr. But fuppofe it true. Dam. Then should I grieve, my Thyrfis, more

than you.

She