Thus he addreffes his Miftrefs:

Thou who, in many a propriety,

So truly art the fun to me,

Add one more likeness, which I'm sure you can, And let me and my fun beget a man.

Thus he represents the meditations of a Lover:

Though in thy thoughts scarce any tracts have been

So much as of original fin,

Such charms thy beauty wears as might

Defires in dying confest saints excite.

Thou with ftrange adultery

Doft in each breast a brothel keep;
Awake, all men do luft for thee,
And some enjoy thee when they fleep.

The true taste of Tears.

Hither with cryftal vials, lovers, come,
And take my tears, which are love's wine,

And try your mistress' tears at home;

For all are falfe, that tafte not just like mine.

This is yet more indelicate:

As the sweet sweat of roses in a still,

As that which from chaf'd mufk-cat's pores doth trill,

As the almighty balm of th' early East;

Such are the sweet drops of my mistress' breaft.

And on her neck her fkin fuch luftre fets,

They seem no fweat drops, but pearl coronets: Rank, fweaty froth thy mistress' brow defiles.

DONNE.

THEIR expreffions sometime raise horror, when they intend perhaps to be pathetic:

As men in hell are from difeafes free,
So from all other ills am I,

Free from their known formality:
But all pains eminently lie in thee.

COWLEY.

THEY were not always ftrictly curious, whether the opinions from which they drew their illustrations were true; it was enough that they were popular. Bacon remarks, that fome falfehoods are continued by tradition, because they supply commodious allufions.

It gave a piteous groan, and fo it broke:
In vain it something would have spoke :
The love within too strong for't was,
Like poifon put into a Venice-glass.

COWLEY.

IN forming defcriptions, they looked out not for images, but for conceits. Night has been a common fubject, which poets have contended to adorn. Dryden's Night is well known; Donne's is as follows:

Thou seeft me here at midnight, now all rest:
Time's dead low-water; when all minds divest
To-morrow's business, when the labourers have
Such reft in bed, that their last church-yard grave,
Subject to change, will scarce be a type of this,
Now when the client, whose last hearing is
To-morrow, fleeps; when the condemned man,
Who, when he opes his eyes, must shut them then
Again by death, although fad watch he keep,
Doth practise dying by a little fleep,
Thou at this midnight feeft me.

IT must be however confeffed of thefe writers, that if they are upon common fubjects often unneceffarily and unpoetically fubtle; yet where fcholaftick fpeculation can be properly

E 3

properly admitted, their copiousness and acuteness may justly be admired. What Cowley has written upon Hope fhews an unequalled fertility of invention:

Hope, whose weak being ruin'd is,
Alike if it fucceed, and if it miss;
Whom good or ill does equally confound,
And both the horns of Fate's dilemma wound;
Vain shadow! which doft vanquish quite,
Both at full noon and perfect night!
The ftars have not a poffibility

Of bleffing thee;

If things then from their end we happy call,
'Tis Hope is the most hopeless thing of all.

Hope, thou bold tafter of delight, [it quite!
Who, whilft thou should'ft but tafte, devour'st
Thou bring'ft us an eftate, yet leav'ft us poor,
By clogging it with legacies before!
The joys which we entire fhould wed,
Come deflower'd virgins to our bed;
Good fortunes without gain imported be,
Such mighty custom's paid to thee:
For joy, like wine kept clofe, does better taste;
If it take air before its fpirits waste.

To the following comparison of a man that travels, and his wife that stays at home, with a pair of compaffes, it may be doubted

whe

whether abfurdity or ingenuity has the bet

ter claim ;

Our two fouls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,

Like gold to airy thinnefs beat.
If they be two, they are two fo
As ftiff twin-compaffes are two;
Thy foul the fixt foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.
And though it in the centre fit,

Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,

And grows erect, as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th' other foot obliquely run.

Thy firmness makes my circle juft,
And makes me end, where I begun.

DONNE.

In all these examples it is apparent, that whatever is improper or vitious, is produced by a voluntary deviation from nature in purfuit of fomething new and ftrange; and that the writers fail to give delight, by their defire of exciting admiration.