me lay hid,
'Tis but just to believe, that little hand
Which clouded him, but now benights our land,
Had never--like Elias--driv'n him hence,
A sad retirer for a slight offence.
For were he now, like the returning year,
Restor'd, to view these desolations here,
He would do penance for his old complaint,
And--weeping--say, that Rufus was a saint.

From the Epistle-Dedicatory to _Flores Solitudinis_ (1654).

1. [BISSELLIUS.]

The whole wench--how complete soe'er--was but
A specious bait; a soft, sly, tempting slut;
A pleasing witch; a living death; a fair,
Thriving disease; a fresh, infectious air;
A precious plague; a fury sweetly drawn;
Wild fire laid up and finely dress'd in lawn.

2. [AUGURELLIUS.]

Peter, when thou this pleasant world dost see,
Believe, thou seest mere dreams and vanity,
Not real things, but false, and through the air
Each-where an empty, slipp'ry scene, though fair.
The chirping birds, the fresh woods' shady boughs,
The leaves' shrill whispers, when the west wind blows,
The swift, fierce greyhounds coursing on the plains,
The flying hare, distress'd 'twixt fear and pains,
The bloomy maid decking with flow'rs her head,
The gladsome, easy youth by light love led;
And whatsoe'er here with admiring eyes
Thou seem'st to see, 'tis but a frail disguise
Worn by eternal things, a passive dress
Put on by beings that are passiveless.

From a Discourse _Of Temperance and Patience_: translated from
Nierembergius (1654).

1. [INCERTI.]

The naked man too gets the field,
And often makes the armed foe to yield.

2. [LUCRETIUS, IV. 1012-1020.]

[Some] struggle and groan as if by panthers torn,
Or lions' teeth, which makes them loudly mourn;
Some others seem unto themselves to die;
Some climb steep solitudes and mountains high,
From whence they seem to fall inanely down,
Panting with fear, till wak'd, and scarce their own
They feel about them if in bed they lie,
Deceiv'd with dreams, and Night's imagery.

In vain with earnest strugglings they contend
To ease themselves: for when they stir and bend
Their greatest force to do it, even then most
Of all they faint, and in their hopes are cross'd.
Nor tongue, nor hand, nor foot will serve their turn,
But without speech and strength within, they