For we, by rightful doom remediless, Were lost in death, till he, that dwelt above And that great covenant which we still transgress And the full wrath beside Of vengeful justice bore for our excess; And seals obedience first, with wounding smart, This day; but O! ere long, Huge pangs and strong Will pierce more near his heart. ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, DYING OF A COUGH. I. O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted, Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry; For he, being amorous on that lovely dye That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss, But kill'd, alas! and then bewail'd his fatal bliss, II. For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer, By boisterous rape the Athenian damsel got, Of long-uncoupled bed and childless eld, Which, 'mongst the wanton Gods, a foul reproach was held. III. So mounting up in icy-pearled car, But, all unwares, with his cold kind embrace Unhous'd thy virgin soul from her fair biding place. IV. Yet art thou not inglorious in thy fate; V. Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, Hid from the world in a low-delved tomb; Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom? Oh no! for something in thy face did shine Above mortality, that show'd thou wast divine. VI. Resolve me then, oh Soul most surely blest, VII. Wert thou some star which from the ruin'd roof Of sheeny Heaven, and thou, some Goddess fled, Amongst us here below to hide thy nectar'd head? VIII. Or wert thou that just Maid, who once before Or wert thou Mercy, that sweet-smiling youth? Or that crown'd matron sage white-robed Truth? Or any other of that heavenly brood Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some good? IX. Or wert thou of the golden-winged host, X. But oh! why didst thou not stay here below To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? XI. Then thou, the Mother of so sweet a Child, Her false-imagin❜d loss cease to lament, |