who with the sweet goddesses

Ha place shalt have. O haste to he
Pym the's owne pitome,

And when that pair of minor flames,

11

at the t

the

1s Charles and James,

stops of their site,

won the Fates in glorious ire;

Con the Bosphorus shall creep

I dread, as rolls full deep arar of the British name,

}. tea alarm shall shame The Tokish, Crescent other wars,

A:4

has bin Sweet Peace no tears

Still all the bith; and from on high

The flashing of thy modest eye

Shall atter ofer adoring foes

Tiecky Heys of delierus woes,

O, when that tender bloem which now

In time to come with mightier blaze
Shall dart around its pointed rays;
When he, the Cupid now so mild,
No longer but a harmless child,
Shall range in youth's imperious pride
Thy cheeks' fair pastures far and wide,-
O then with what unerring skill,

Borne on proud wings, thy shafts shall kill,
While, where thou bid'st, the honey'd blow
Falls ceaseless midst the exulting foe!
How many god-like breasts shall learn
From thee with Love's rich wounds to burn!

How often shall thy mastering darts
Work their sweet will on princely hearts!
For what may she not do in war,
Whose mother's breast-with each bright star
That rul'd her birth-to her but proves
A storehouse of all-conquering loves?

Hence for thy quiver, Princess Maid,
Take what thou wilt, nor be afraid.
A hundred Cupids be thy prize,
From one of thy bright mother's eyes;
A hundred graces add to these,

And then a hundred Venuses:

A hundred-thousand Cupids still

Are hers; three hundred Graces will,

With Venuses in equal store,

Haunt that pure fount for evermore.

CL.

In time to come with mightier blaze
Shall dart around its pointed rays;
When he, the Cupid now so mild,
No longer but a harmless child,
Shall range in youth's imperious pride
Thy cheeks' fair pastures far and wide,—
O then with what unerring skill,

Borne on proud wings, thy shafts shall kill,
While, where thou bid'st, the honey'd blow
Falls ceaseless midst the exulting foe!
How many god-like breasts shall learn

From thee with Love's rich wounds to burn!

How often shall thy mastering darts
Work their sweet will on princely hearts!
For what may she not do in war,
Whose mother's breast-with each bright star
That rul'd her birth-to her but proves
A storehouse of all-conquering loves?

eyes;

Hence for thy quiver, Princess Maid,
Take what thou wilt, nor be afraid.
A hundred Cupids be thy prize,
From one of thy bright mother's
A hundred graces add to these,
And then a hundred Venuses:
A hundred-thousand Cupids still
Are hers; three hundred Graces will,
With Venuses in equal store,

Haunt that pure fount for evermore.

CL.

IN NATALES MARIAE PRINCIPIS Puree tuo jam, bruma ferox, & parce furori, Pone animos; ô pacata da spiritus aurae, Afflatu leniore gravem demulceat annum.

Res certe et tempus meruit. Licet improbus Auster,
Saeviat, et rabido multum se murmure volvat;
Imbriferis licet impatiens Notus ardeat alis;

Hic tamen, hic certe, modo tu non, saeva, negares,
Nec Notus impatiens jam, nec foret improbus Auster.
Scilicet hoe decuit? dum nos tam lucida rerum
Attollit series, adeo commune serenum
Laetitiae vernisque animis micat alta voluptas;
Jam torvas acies, jam squallida bella per auras
Volvere, et hibernis annum corrumpere nimbis?
Ah melius, quin luce novae reparata juventae
Ipsa hodie vernaret hiems, pulchroque tumultu
Purpureas properaret opes, effunderet omnes
Laeta sinus, nitidumque diem fragrantibus horis
Aeternum migrare velit, florumque beata
Luxurie, tanta 6 circum cunabula surgat,

Excipiatque novos et molliter ambiat artus.

From Tanner note to preceding pocm

.. as before; hitherto unprinted. See G.