IV. CO W L E Y. The GARDEN. AIN would my Muse the flow'ry Treasures fing, F 10 Where opening Roses breathing sweets diffuse, 15 20 Where Daphne, now a tree as once a maid, WEEPING W! HILE Celia's Tears make forrow bright, Proud grief fits swelling in her eyes; The Sun, next those the fairest light, Thus from the Ocean first did rise : And thus thro' Mists we see the Sun, Which else we durft not gaze upon. 35 These filver drops, like morning dew, Foretell the fervour of the day: And blasting lightnings burst away. 40 The Baby in that sunny Sphere So like a Phaëton appears, Thought fit to drown him in her Tears: 45 V. E. of ROCHESTER. On SILENCE, I. Thou wert, ere Nature's self began to be, 'Twas one vaft Nothing, all, and all slept fast in thee. II. Thine was the sway, ere heav'n was form’d, or earth, Ere fruitful Thought conceiv'd creation's birth, Or midwife Word gave aid, and spoke the infant forth. III. Then various elements, against thee join'd, In one more various animal combin'd, And fram’d the clam'rous race of bufy Human-kind. IV. The tongue mov'd gently first, and speech was low, 'Till wrangling Science taught it noise and show, And wicked Wit arose, thy most abusive foe, WEEPING. W HILE Celia's Tears make forrow bright, Proud grief sits swelling in her eyes; The Sun, next those the faireft light, Thus from the Ocean first did rise: And thus thro'Mists we see the Sun, 35 Which else we durft not gaze upon. These filver drops, like morning dew, Foretell the fervour of the day: 40 The Stars that fall from Celia's eye, Declare our Doom in drawing nigh. 45 The Baby in that sunny Sphere So like a Phaëton appears, Thought fit to drown him in her Tears : |