And all the way, like them, thou shalt rehearse The Birth of things, how they from nothing rofe, By that Almighty Word which shall inspire thy Verfe, And help thee all its Wonders to difclofe.

No Storm upon thy Maft fhall reft,

Or any Gales but Vernal blow;

[show.

The Sea it self, to my great Service preft, In Plains of liquid Glass shall lye below, And its Obedience to my Rule in dancing Billows only And when thou Home return'd fhalt be,

And of thy native Earth once more take hold, My felf thy Bark will confecrated fee;

And for this new World thus found out by thee, Make it a heav'nly Sign, near that which fav'd the old.

IT

CUPID's PASTIME.

By Sidney Godolphin, Efq;

T chanc'd of late a Shepherd Swain
That went to seek his wander'd Sheep,
Within a Thicket, on a Plain,

Efpy'd a dainty Nymph afleep.

II.

Her Golden Hair o'er-fpread her Face,
Her careless Arms about her caft:
Her Quiver had her Pillow's Place,

Her Breaft lay bare to ev'ry Blast.

III.

The Shepherd ftood and gaz'd his fill;

Nought durft he do, nought durst he say
While Chance, or else perhaps his Will,
Guided the God of Love that way.
IV.

The crafty Boy thus fees her fleep,

Whom if the wak'd he durft not fee:

Behind her clofely feems to creep,

Before her Knap fhould ended be....

V.

There come, he steals her Shafts away,
And puts his own into their place :
Nor dares he any longer ftay,

But, e'er fhe wakes, hies thence apace.
VI.

Scarce was he gone, but the awakes;
And fpies the Shepherd gazing by.
Her bended Bow then up she takes,
And at the fimple Swain lets fly.

VII.

Forth flew the Shaft and pierc'd his Heart,
That to the Ground he fell, with pain

Yet foon he up again did start,

And to the Nymph he ran amain.
VIH.

Amaz'd to fee fo ftrange a Sight,

She fhot, and fhot, but all in vain:
The more his Wounds, the more his Might,
Love yielding Strength amidst his Pain

IX.

Her angry Eyes were big with Tears;

She blames her Hand, fhe blames her Skill The Bluntnefs of her Shafts she fears,

And try them on her felf the will.

X.

Take heed, fair Nymph, try not thy Shaft,
Each little touch will pierce thy Heart.
Alas! thou know'ft not Cupid's Craft,
Revenge is Joy, the end is Smart.

XI.

Yet fhe will try, and pierce fome bare:

Her Hands were glov'd, but next to Hand Was that fair Breaft, that Breaft fo rare,

That made the Shepherd fenfelels ftand.
XII.

That Breaft the pierc'd, and thro' the Breaft:
Love found an Entry to her Heart :.

At feeling of this new-come Guest,

Lord, how this Gentle Nymph did start..

XIII.

She runs not now, She shoots no more:
Away fhe throws both Shaft and Bow,
She feeks for what the fhunn'd before,

She thinks the Shepherd's Hafte too flow.

XIV.

Tho' Mountains meet not, Lovers may;
What others did, juft fo did they.
The God of Love fat on a Tree,

And laught, the pleafing Sight to fee.

A POEM dedicated to the Bleffed Me-mory of her late Gracious Majefty Queen MARY.

By Mr. STEPNEY.

Ο

NCE more, Mufe,--
my

,--we must an Altar raise ;--

May it prove lafting, as Maria's Praise; And, the Song ended, be the Swan's thy Doom; Reft ever filent, as Maria's Tomb.

But whence fhall we begin? or whither fteer? Her Virtues like a perfect Round appear, Where Judgment lies in Admiration loft, Not knowing which it fhould distinguish moft. Some Angel, from your own, defcribe her Frame, (For fure your Godlike Beings are the same :) All that was Charming in the Fairer Kind, With Manly Senfe, and Refolution join'd; A Mein compos'd of Mildness and of State, Not by Conftraint, or Affectation, Great; But form'd by Nature for Supream Command; Like Eve just moulded by the Maker's Hand;

1

Yet fuch her Meeknefs, as half-vail'd the Throne,
Left being in too great a Luftre shown,
It might debar the Subject of Access,

}

And make her Mercies, and our Comforts lefs.
So Gods, of old, descending from their Sphere
To vifit Men, like Mortals did appear::
Left their too Awful Prefence should affright
Those whom they meant to blefs, and to delight,
Thus to the Noon of her high Glory run,
From her bright Orb, diffufive like the Sun,
She did her healing Influence display,
And cherish'd all our nether World that lay
Within the Circle of her radiant Day:
Reliev'd not only those who Bounty fought,
But gave unask'd, and as she gave, forgot;
Found modeft Want in her obfcure Retreat,
And courted tim'rous Virtue to be Great.
The Church, which William fav'd, was Mary's Care,
Taught by her Life, and guarded by her Prayer;
What her Devotions were, you Cherubs, tell,
Who ever round the Seat of Mercy dwell;
(For here She wou'd not have herGoodness known)
But you beheld how She address'd the Throne,
And wonder'd at a Zeal fo like your own.
Since She was Form'd, and Lov'd, and Pray'd like you,
She fhou'd, alas! have been Immortal too.

A Mind fo good, in beauteous Strength aray'd,
Affur'd our Hopes She might be long obey'd,
And we, with heightned Reverence, might have seen
The hoary Grandure of an Aged Queen;
Who might, with William, jointly Govern here,
As that bright Pair which Rules the heav'nly Sphere.
Grace and mild Mercy beft in her were shown,
In him the rougher Virtues of the Throne;
Of Justice She at home the Ballance held,
Abroad, Oppreffion by His Sword was quell'd;
The gen'rous Lion, and the peaceful Dove;
The God of Battel, and the Queen of Love,

Did in Their happy Nuptials well agree;
Like Mars, He led our Armies out; and She
With Smiles prefided o'er Her Native Sea!

}

Such too Their Meetings, when our Monarch came With Laurels loaden, and Immortal Fame; As when the God on Hamus quits his Arms, Softning his Toils in Cytherea's Charms : Then with what Joy did She the Victor meet? And lay the Reins of Empire at his Feet? With the fame Temper as the Latian Hind Was made Dictator, conquer'd, and refign'd; So Pallas from the dufty Field withdrew, And when Imperial Jove appear'd in View, Refum'd her Female Arts,the Spindle and the Clew: Forgot the Scepter fhe fo well had fway'd, And with that Mildness, the had Rul'd, Obey'd; Pleas'd with the Change, and unconcern'd as Jove, When in Difguife he leaves his Pow'r above, And drowns all other Attributes in Love:---Such, mighty Sir, (if yet the facred Ear Of Majefty in Grief vouchfafe to hear) Was the Lov'd Confort of thy Crown and Bed, Our Joy while living; our Defpair now Dead. Yet tho' with Mary one Supporter fall,

Thy Virtue can alone fuftain the Ball.

· Of Sibyll's Books, that Volume which remain'd
The perfect Value of the whole retain'd.
When in the fiery Carr Elijah fled,
His Spirit doubi'd on his Partner's Head:
So will thy Peoples Love, now Mary's gone,
Unite both Streams, and flow on Thee alone.
The grateful Senate with one Voice combine
To breath their Sorrows, and to comfort Thine
By bringing to thy View how Europe's Fate
Does on thy Counfels, and thy Courage wait:
But when the vaftness of thy Grief they fee,
They own 'tis juft, and melt in Tears with thee.

* Lucius Quintius.