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By this who does not plainly see,
How down our throats at once is hurl'd (Whilst merrily we drinking be)
The quintessence of all the world? Whilst all drink then in land, air, sea, Let us too drink as well as they.
Invocation of Silence.
STILL-born Silence! thou that art
Author of “ Poems, or a miscellany of Sonnets, Satyrs,
“Drollery, Panegyricks, Elegies, &c.” London, 1673, 12mo. a book which sometimes occurs with the title of “ Norfolk “Drollery;" and in 1685 was called “The Wits, or Poems “and Songs on various Occasions.” A different volume of “ Poems by Matthew Stevenson," appeared in 1665, and “ Bellum Presbyteriale," an heroic poem, in 1661. In 1654, he printed a 12mo, miscellany, styled “ Occa“sion's Offspring.” Stevenson seems to have resembled Fleckno as a poet and publisher. The following song from the first mentioned miscellany is tolerable.
Should I sigh out my days in grief,
And, as my beads, count miseries, My wound would meet with no relief
For all the balsam of mine eyes: I'll therefore set my heart at rest, And of bad market make the best.
Some set their hearts on winged wealth,
Others to honour's towers aspire ;
And there's the sum of my desire :
There is no fence against our fate,
Eve's daughters all are born to sorrow; Vicissitudes upon us wait
That laugh to-day, and lower to-morrow. Why should we then, with wrinkled care, Deface what nature made so fair ?
To his Mistress.
(From “ Wit restored," a poetical miscellany, 1658, 12mo.]
Phillada flouts me.
(From the same Collection.]
How shall I bear it ?
I greatly fear it.
That my strength faileth,
And wavers with the wind,
As a ship that saileth ;
Phillada flouts me!
All the fair yesterday
She did pass by me;
And would not spy me.
But could not get her. Will had her to the wine;
He might entreat her, With Daniel she did dance, On me she look'd askance, Oh, thrice unhappy chance!
Phillada flouts me!
Fair maid, be not so coy,
Do not disdain me! -.
Sweet, entertain me!
All that is fitting;