Buch guard and comfort the diftreffed find From her large pow'r, and from her larger mind, That whom ill Fate would ruin it prefers, For all the miserable are made her's. So the fair tree whereon the eagle builds, 45 55 Poor sheepfrom tempests, and their fhepherds, fhields: A brave romance who would exactly frame, 60 65 The man to whom great Maro gives fuch fame t, VI. THE APOLOGY OF SLEEP. For not approaching the lady who can do any thing but fleep when he pleafeth. My charge it is thofe breaches to repair Which Nature takes from forrow, toil, and care: On troubled minds; but nought can add to her And not his mother with more hafte obeys. 10 15 Should I with lightning fill her awful hand, And make the clouds feem all at her command, Or place her in Olympus' top, a guest Among th' immortals, who with nectar feast, That pow'r wou'd feem, that entertainment, fhort Of the true fplendour of her prefent court, Where all the joys, and all the glories, are Of three great kingdoms, fever'd from the care. zo 1, that of fumes and humid vapours made, Afcending, do the feat of fenfe invade, No cloud in fo ferene a manfion find, 73 Which holds resemblance with thofe fpotlefs fkies, 25 Where flowing Nilus want of rain supplies; That crystal heav'n, where Phœbus never shrouds His golden beams, nor wraps his face in clouds. But what fo hard which numbers cannot force; So ftoops the moon, and rivers change their course.30 The bold Mæonian † made me dare to steep Jove's dreadful temples in the dew of sleep; And fince the Mufes do invoke my pow'r, I fhall no more decline that facred bow'r Where Gloriana their great mistress lies, But gently taming those victorious eyes, Charm all her senses, till the joyful sun Without a rival half his course has run; Who, while my hand that fairer light confines, May boast himself the brightest thing that shines.40 VII. 35 PUERPERIUM. You gods that have the pow'r To trouble and compofe All that's beneath your bow'r, Calm filence on the feas, on earth impose. + Homer. Volume I G Fair Venus! in thy soft arms 'The God of Rage confine; For thy whispers are the charms Which only can divert his fierce defign. What tho' he frown, and to tumult do incline? Kindled in his breast canft tame With that snow which unmelted lies on thine. Great Goddess! give this thy facred ifland rest; That no ftorm disturb us while Thy chief care, our halcyon, builds her neft. Great Gloriana! fair Gloriana! Bright as high heav'n is, and fertile as earth, Whofe beauty relieves us, Whofe royal bed gives us, Both glory and peace, Our present joy, and all our hopes increafe. VIII. THE COUNTESS OF CARLISLE IN MOURNING. WHEN from black clouds no part of sky is clear, Heav'n then would feem thy image, and reflect 20 22 A fpark of virtue by the deepest shade Nor lefs advantage doth thy beauty get, 5 15 Such was th' appearance of new-formed Light, Grief in thy prefence can lay hold on none. Of that great Mercury of our mighty Jove, 25 Who, by the pow'r of his enchanting tongue, 30 |