Stand with thy graces forth, brave man, and rise High with thine own auspicious destinies: Nor leave the search, and proof, till thou canst find These, or those ends, to which thou wast design'd....
Nor is my number full till I inscribe Thee, sprightly Soame, one of my righteous tribe; A tribe of one lip, leaven, and of one Civil behaviour, and religion; A stock of saints, where ev'ry one doth wear...
Or look'd I back unto the times hence flown To praise those Muses and dislike our own-- Or did I walk those P'an-gardens through, To kick the flowers and scorn their odours too--...
Touch but thy lyre, my Harry, and I hear From thee some raptures of the rare Gotiere; Then if thy voice commingle with the string, I hear in thee rare Laniere to sing;...
My Muse in meads has spent her many hours Sitting, and sorting several sorts of flowers, To make for others garlands; and to set On many a head here, many a coronet. But amongst all encircled here, not one...
I will be short, and having quickly hurl'd This line about, live thou throughout the world; Who art a man for all scenes; unto whom, What's hard to others, nothing's troublesome....
Charm me asleep, and melt me so With thy delicious numbers; That being ravish'd, hence I go Away in easy slumbers. Ease my sick head, And make my bed, Thou Power that canst sever...
Whene'er I go, or whatsoe'er befalls Me in mine age, or foreign funerals, This blessing I will leave thee, ere I go: Prosper thy basket and therein thy dough. Feed on the paste of filberts, or else knead...
Fold now thine arms and hang the head, Like to a lily withered; Next look thou like a sickly moon, Or like Jocasta in a swoon; Then weep and sigh and softly go, Like to a widow drown'd in woe,...
Live, live with me, and thou shalt see The pleasures I'll prepare for thee: What sweets the country can afford Shall bless thy bed, and bless thy board. The soft sweet moss shall be thy bed,...
What fate decreed, time now has made us see, A renovation of the west by thee. That preternatural fever, which did threat Death to our country, now hath lost his heat,...
Command the roof, great Genius, and from thence Into this house pour down thy influence, That through each room a golden pipe may run Of living water by thy benizon;...
As is your name, so is your comely face Touch'd every where with such diffused grace, As that in all that admirable round, There is not one least solecism found; And as that part, so every portion else...
Never my book's perfection did appear Till I had got the name of Villars here: Now 'tis so full that when therein I look I see a cloud of glory fills my book. Here stand it still to dignify our Muse,...
When to thy porch I come and ravish'd see The state of poets there attending thee, Those bards and I, all in a chorus sing: We are thy prophets, Porter, thou our king.
Welcome, most welcome to our vows and us, Most great and universal genius! The drooping West, which hitherto has stood As one in long-lamented widowhood, Looks like a bride now, or a bed of flowers...
This day is yours, great Charles! and in this war Your fate, and ours, alike victorious are. In her white stole now Victory does rest Ensphered with palm on your triumphant crest....
Welcome, great C'sar, welcome now you are As dearest peace after destructive war: Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of ease After our long and peevish sicknesses. O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and come...