And left them both, more in himself content, Kill'd with report that old man eloquent. Though later born than to have known the days XI. 10 On the detraction which followed upon my writing certain treatifes. A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon, 5 Thofe rugged names to our like mouths grow fleek, That would have made Quintilian ftare and grasp. Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek, Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, Greek, XII. On XII. On the fame. I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs Which after held the fun and moon in fee. That bawl for freedom in their fenfelefs mood, And ftill revolt when truth would fet them free. 10 For who loves that, must first be wife and good; XIII. To Mr. H. LAWES on his Airs. Harry, whofe tuneful and well-meafur'd fong To after-age thou shalt be writ the man, That with fmooth air could'ft humour beft our tongue. Thou Thou honor'st verse, and verse must lend her wing XIV. On the religious memory of 10 Mrs. CATHARINE THOMSON, my chriftian friend, Deceas'd 16 Decem. 1646. When faith and love, which parted from thee never, Had ripen'd thy just foul to dwell with God, Meekly thou didst refign this earthly load Of death, call'd life; which us from life doth fever. Thy works and alms and all thy good endevor Stay'd not behind, nor in the grave were trod ; But, as faith pointed with her golden rod, Follow'd thee up to joy and blifs for ever. Love led them on, and faith, who knew them best, Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams And azure wings, that up they flew so drest, And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes Before the Judge, who thenceforth bid thee reft And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams. 5 VOL. III. N XV. To XV. To the Lord General FAIRFAX. Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, Victory home, though new rebellions raise (For what can war, but endless war still breed?) 10 XVI. To the Lord General CROMWELL. Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, To peace and truth thy glorious way haft plough'd, And on the neck of crowned fortune proud Haft rear'd God's trophies, and his work pursued, While Darwen ftream with blood of Scots imbrued, And Dunbar field refounds thy praises loud, 5 And Yet much remains And Worcester's laureat wreath. XVII. To Sir HENRY VANE the younger. Vane, young in years, but in fage counsel old, Than whom a better fenator ne'er held The helm of Rome, when gowns not arms repell'd The drift of hollow ftates hard to be fpell'd In all her equipage: befides to know ΙΟ Both spiritual pow'r and civil, what each means, 10 What fevers each, thou haft learn'd, which few have done : The bounds of either fword to thee we owe : Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans |