When thy rosy cheek thus checks

My offence,

I could sin with a pretence; Through that sweet chiding blush there breaks So fair, so bright an innocence.

Thus your very frowns entrap

That

My desire,

And inflame me to admire

eyes dress'd in an angry shape

Should kindle as with amorous fire.

ODE.

Laura sleeping.

WINDS, whisper gently whilst she sleeps,
And fan her with your cooling wings,
Whilst she her drops of beauty weeps
From pure, and yet-unrivall'd springs!

Glide over beauty's field, her face,
To kiss her lip and cheek be bold,
But with a calm and stealing pace,
Neither too rude, nor yet too cold.

Play in her beams and crisp her hair,
With such a gale as wings soft love;

And with so sweet, so rich an air,

As breathes from the Arabian grove.

A breath as hush'd as lover's sigh,
Or that unfolds the morning's door;
Sweet as the winds that gently fly

To sweep the spring's enamell'd floor.

Who is troubled with a wife!
Be she ne'er so fair or comely,
Be she ne'er so foul or homely,
Be she ne'er so young and toward,
Be she ne'er so old and froward,
Be she kind with arms infolding,
Be she cross and always scolding,
Be she blithe, or melancholy,
Have she wit, or have she folly,
Be she wary, be she squandering,
Be she staid, or be she wandering,
Be she constant, be she fickle,
Be she fire, or be she ickle;

Be she pious, or ungodly,

Be she chaste, or what sounds oddly:

Lastly, be she good or evil,

Be she saint, or be she devil ;-
Yet, uneasy is his life

Who is married to a wife.

*

ODE.

Laura weeping.

CHASTE, lovely Laura 'gan disclose,
Drooping with sorrow, from her bed;
As with ungentle showers the rose,
O'ercharg'd with wet, declines her head.

With a dejected look and pace
Neglectingly she 'gan appear:

When, meeting with her tell-tale glass,
She saw the face of Sorrow there :

Sweet Sorrow dress'd in such a look
As Love would trick to catch Desire;

A shaded leaf in Beauty's book,

Character'd with clandestine fire.

Then a full shower of pearly dew
Upon her snowy breast 'gan fall,

As in due homage to bestrew
Or mourn her beauty's funeral.

So have I seen the springing Morn
In dark and humid vapours clad,
Not to eclipse, but to adorn

Her glories by that conquer'd shade.

Spare, Laura, spare those beauty's twins,
Do not our world of beauty drown!
Thy tears are balm for others' sins,
Thou know'st not any of thine own.

Then let them shine forth, to declare
The sweet serenity within.
May each day of thy life be fair,

And to eclipse one hour be sin!

MARTIN LLUELLYN

Is mentioned by Winstanley as having been bred a student at Christ-church, and having practised physic. According to Wood (Fasti, II. 103) he took the degree of M.D. in 1653. His poem called "Men-Miracles," was published, with a few smaller pieces, in 1646, 12mo again in 1656, and reprinted in 1661, under the title of " Lluellin's Marrow of the Muses." The work is a good satire on travellers, written in what is now called Hudibrastic

verse.

SONG.

Celia in Love.

I FELT my heart, and found a flame
That for relief and shelter came;
I entertain❜d the treacherous guest,
And gave it welcome in my breast.
Poor Celia! whither wilt thou go ?
To cool in streams, or freeze in snow?
Or gentle Zephyrus intreat

To chill thy flames, and fan thy heat?
Perhaps a taper's fading beams

May die in air, or quench in streams: