823. TO THE KING, UPON HIS TAKING OF LEICESTER.

This day is yours, great Charles! and in this war Your fate, and ours, alike victorious are.

In her white stole now Victory does rest _Ensphered with palm on your triumphant crest_.

Fortune is now your captive; other Kings _Hold but her hands; you hold both hands and wings_.

824. TO JULIA, IN HER DAWN, OR DAYBREAK.

By the next kindling of the day, My Julia, thou shalt see, Ere Ave-Mary thou canst say I'll come and visit thee.

Yet ere thou counsel'st with thy gla.s.s, Appear thou to mine eyes As smooth, and nak'd, as she that was The prime of paradise.

If blush thou must, then blush thou through A lawn, that thou mayst look As purest pearls, or pebbles do When peeping through a brook.

As lilies shrin'd in crystal, so Do thou to me appear; Or damask roses when they grow To sweet acquaintance there.

825. COUNSEL.

'Twas Caesar's saying: _Kings no less conquerors are By their wise counsel, than they be by war._

826. BAD PRINCES PILL THE PEOPLE.

Like those infernal deities which eat The best of all the sacrificed meat; And leave their servants but the smoke and sweat: So many kings, and primates too there are, Who claim the fat and fleshy for their share And leave their subjects but the starved ware.

827. MOST WORDS, LESS WORKS.

In desp'rate cases all, or most, are known Commanders, few for execution.

828. TO DIANEME.

I could but see thee yesterday Stung by a fretful bee; And I the javelin suck'd away, And heal'd the wound in thee.

A thousand thorns and briars and stings, I have in my poor breast; Yet ne'er can see that salve which brings My pa.s.sions any rest.

As love shall help me, I admire How thou canst sit, and smile To see me bleed, and not desire To staunch the blood the while.

If thou, compos'd of gentle mould, Art so unkind to me; What dismal stories will be told Of those that cruel be?

_Admire_, wonder.

830. HIS LOSS.

All has been plundered from me but my wit: Fortune herself can lay no claim to it.

831. DRAW AND DRINK.

Milk still your fountains and your springs: for why?

The more th'are drawn, the less they will grow dry.

833. TO OENONE.

Thou say'st Love's dart Hath p.r.i.c.ked thy heart; And thou dost languish too: If one poor p.r.i.c.k Can make thee sick, Say, what would many do?

836. TO ELECTRA.

Shall I go to Love and tell, Thou art all turned icicle?

Shall I say her altars be Disadorn'd and scorn'd by thee?

O beware! in time submit; Love has yet no wrathful fit: If her patience turns to ire, Love is then consuming fire.

837. TO MISTRESS AMY POTTER.

Ay me! I love; give him your hand to kiss Who both your wooer and your poet is.

Nature has precompos'd us both to love: Your part's to grant; my scene must be to move.

Dear, can you like, and liking love your poet?

If you say "Aye," blush-guiltiness will show it.

Mine eyes must woo you, though I sigh the while: _True love is tongueless as a crocodile_.

And you may find in love these different parts-- _Wooers have tongues of ice, but burning hearts_.

838. UPON A MAID.

Here she lies, in bed of spice, Fair as Eve in Paradise: For her beauty it was such Poets could not praise too much.

Virgins, come, and in a ring Her supremest requiem sing; Then depart, but see ye tread Lightly, lightly, o'er the dead.

_Supremest_, last.

839. UPON LOVE.

Love is a circle, and an endless sphere; From good to good, revolving here and there.

840. BEAUTY.

Beauty's no other but a lovely grace Of lively colours flowing from the face.

841. UPON LOVE.

Some salve to every sore we may apply; Only for my wound there's no remedy.