People those lands which pass Arabian fields
In fragrant woods, and musk which zephyr yields.
Thou, fear'd of none, shalt not thy people fear,
Thy people's love thy greatness shall up-rear:
Still rigour shall not shine, and mercy lower;
What love can do thou shalt not do by power;
New and vast taxes thou shalt not extort,
Load heavy those thy bounty should support.
Thou shalt not strike the hinge nor master-beam
Of thine estate; but errors in the same,
By harmless justice, graciously reform.
Delighting more in calm than roaring storm,
Thou shalt govern in peace, as did thy sire;
Keep, save thine own, and kingdoms new acquire
Beyond Alcides' pillars, and those bounds
Where Alexander gain'd the eastern crowns,
Till thou the greatest be among the Greats:
Thus heavens ordain, so have decreed the fates.

William Drummond.

ON HIS MAJESTY'S RETURN OUT OF

SCOTLAND.

ELCOME, great sir, with all the joy that's due
To the return of peace and you.

Two greatest blessings which this age can know ; For that to thee, for thee to heaven we owe.

Others by war their conquests gain,

You like a god your ends obtain.

Who when rude chaos for his help did call,
Spoke but the word, and sweetly order'd all.
This happy concord in no blood is writ,

None can grudge heaven full thanks for it;

No mothers here lament their children's fate,
And like the peace, but think it comes too late;
No widows hear the jocund bells,

And take them for their husbands' knells;
No drop of blood is spilt which might be said
To mark our joyful holiday with red.

'Twas only heaven could work this wondrous thing,
And only work't by such a king.

Again the northern hinds may sing and plough,
And fear no harm but from the weather now.
Again may tradesmen love their pain

By knowing now for whom they gain.
The armour now may be hung up to sight,
And only in their halls the children fright.
The gain of civil wars will not allow

Bay to the conqueror's brow.

At such a game what fool would venture in,
When one must lose, yet neither side can win?
How justly would our neighbours smile
At these mad quarrels of our isle

Swell'd with proud hopes to snatch the whole away,
Whilst we bet all, and yet for nothing play?

No blood so loud as that of civil war;
It calls for dangers from afar.

Let's rather go and seek out them and fame;
Thus our forefathers got, thus left a name.

All their rich blood was spent with gains,

[ 1 st.

But that which swells their children's veins.

Why sit we still, our spirits wrapt up in lead?
Not like them whilst they lived, but now they're dead.
This noise at home was but Fate's policy

To raise our spirits more high.

So a bold lion, ere he seeks his prey,

Lashes his sides, and roars, and then away.
How would the German eagle fear

To see a new Gustavus there?

How would it shake, though, as 'twas wont to do
For Jove of old, it now bore thunder too!

Sure there are actions of this height and praise
Destined to Charles his days.

What will the triumphs of his battles be,
Whose very peace itself is victory?

When heaven bestows the best of kings,
It bids us think of mighty things.

His valour, wisdom, offspring, speak no less;
And we, the prophets' sons, write not by guess.

Abraham Cowley.

THE PERFECT LOVER.

ONEST lover whatsoever,

If in all thy love there ever

Was one wav'ring thought, if thy flame

Were not still even, still the same;

Know this,

Thou lov'st amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If when she appears i' th' room,

Thou dost not quake, and art struck dumb,
And in striving this to cover

Dost not speak thy words twice over,

Know this,

Thou lov'st amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If fondly thou dost not mistake,
And all defects for graces take,

Persuad'st thyself that jests are broken,
When she hath little or nothing spoken,
Know this,

Thou lov'st amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.
If when thou appearest to be within,
Thou lett'st not men ask and ask again;
And when thou answerest, if it be
To what was ask'd thee properly,
Know this,

Thou lov'st amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.
f when thy stomach calls to eat,
Thou cutt'st not fingers 'stead of meat,
And with much gazing on her face,
Dost not rise hungry from the place,
Know this,

Thou lov'st amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

If by this thou dost discover

That thou art no perfect lover,

And desiring to love true,

Thou dost begin to love anew,

Know this,

Thou lov'st amiss,

And to love true,

Thou must begin again, and love anew.

Sir John Suckling.

THE CARELESS LOVER.

EVER believe me if I love,

Or know what 'tis or mean to prove;
And yet in faith I lie, I do,

And she's extremely handsome too :
She's fair, she's wondrous fair,

But I care not who knows it,

Ere I'll die for love, I'll fairly forego it.

This heat of hope, or cold of fear,

My foolish heart could never bear:
One sigh imprison'd ruins more
Than earthquakes have done heretofore:
She's fair, &c.

When I am hungry I do eat,

And cut no fingers 'stead of meat;
Nor with much gazing on her face
Do e'er rise hungry from the place:
She's fair, &c.

A gentle round fill'd to the brink
To this and t'other friend I drink ;
And when 'tis named another's health,
I never make it hers by stealth:
She's fair, &c.

Blackfriars to me, and old Whitehall,
Is even as much as is the fall
Of fountains on a pathless grove,
And nourishes as much my love:
She's fair, &c.