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The STATIONER to the READER. him. Let the event guide itself which way it will, I shall deserve of the age, by bringing into the light as true a birth, as the Muses have brought forth fince our famous Spenfer wrote; whofe poems in these English ones are as rarely imitated, as fweetly excell'd. Reader, if thou art eagle-ey'd to cenfure their worth, I am not fearful to expose them to thy exactest perusal.

Thine to command,

HUMPH. MOSELEY.

POEMS on feveral OCCASIONS..

I.

ANNO ETATIS

17.

On the Death of a fair Infant, dying of a cough*.

I.

Faireft flower no fooner blown but blafted, Soft filken primrofe fading timelefly, Summer's chief honor, if thou hadst out-lafted Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry; For he being amorous on that lovely dye

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kifs, But kill'd, alas, and then bewail'd his fatal bliss.

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* This elegy was not inferted in the first edition of the author's poems printed in 1645, but was added in the fecond edition printed in 1673. It was compos'd in the year 1625, that being the 17th year of Milton's age. In fome editions the title runs thus, On the death of a fair Infant, a nephew of his, dying of a cough: but the fequel fhows plainly that the child was not a nephew, but a niece, and confequently a daughter of his fifter Philips, and probably her first child.

II.

For fince grim Aquilo his charioteer
By boiftrous rape th' Athenian damsel got,
He thought it touch'd his deity full near,
If likewife he fome fair-one wedded not,
Thereby to wipe away th' infamous blot

Of long-uncoupled bed, and childless eld,

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[held.

Which 'mongst the wanton Gods a foul reproach was III.

So mounting up in icy-pearled car,

Through middle empire of the freezing air

He wander'd long, till thee he spy'd from far:
There ended was his queft, there ceas'd his care.
Down he defcended from his fnow-foft chair,

But all unwares with his cold kind embrace
Unhous'd thy virgin foul from her fair biding-place.
IV.

Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate;
For fo Apollo, with unweeting hand,
Whilome did flay his dearly-loved mate,
Young Hyacinth born on Eurotas' strand,

Young Hyacinth the pride of Spartan land;

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But then transform'd him to a purple flower :

Alack that fo to change thee Winter had no power.

V.

Yet can I not perfuade me thou art dead,

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Or that thy corfe corrupts in earth's dark womb,
Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed,

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Hid from the world in a low delved tomb;

Could Heav'n for pity thee so strictly doom ?

Ok

ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT. Oh no! for something in thy face did shine Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine.

VI.

73

35

Resolve me then, oh Soul most surely blest,
(If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear)
Tell me bright Spirit where'er thou hoverest,
Whether above that high first-moving sphere,
Or in th' Elyfian fields (if fuch there were)
Oh fay me true, if thou wert mortal wight,
And why from us fo quickly thou didft take thy flight.

VII.

Wert thou fome ftar which from the ruin'd roof
Of flak'd Olympus by mifchance didit fall;.
Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof.
Took up, and in fit place did reinftall?
Or did of late earth's fons befiege the wall

Of heeny Heav'n, and thou fome Goddefs fled
Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head?

VIII.

Or wert thou that just Maid who once before.
Forfook the hated earth, O tell me footh,
And cam'ft again to vifit us once more?

Or wert thou that sweet smiling Youth?

Or that crown'd matron fage white-robed Truth?
Or any other of that heav'nly brood

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Let down in cloudy throne to do the world fome good?

IX. Or

IX.

Or wert thou of the golden-winged hoft,
Who having clad thyself in human weed,
To earth from thy prefixed feat didst post,
And after fhort abode fly back with speed,
As if to fhow what creatures Heav'n doth breed,
Thereby to fet the hearts of men on fire

To fcorn the fordid world, and unto Heav'n aspire?

X.

But oh why didst thou not stay here below

To bless us with thy heav'n-lov'd innocence,

To flake his wrath whom fin hath made our foe,
To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence,
Or drive away the flaughtering peftilence,

To ftand 'twixt us and our deferved smart?

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But thou canst best perform that office where thou art

XI.

Then thou the Mother of fo fweet a Child
Her falfe imagin'd lofs cease to lament,
And wifely learn to curb thy forrows wild.
Think what a present thou to God hast sent,

And render him with patience what he lent!

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This if thou do, he will an offspring give, That till the world's laft end fhall make thy name

to live.

II. Anno