n seeming joys a real happiness.
Haste not away: O do not dissipate 5
A pleasure thou so lately didst create!
Stay, welcome Sleep; be ever here confin'd:
Or if thou wilt away, leave her behind.

DESPAIR.

No, no, poor blasted Hope!
Since I (with thee) have lost the scope
Of all my joys, I will no more
Vainly implore
The unrelenting Destinies: 5
He that can equally sustain
The strong assaults of joy and pain,
May safely laugh at their decrees.

Despair, to thee I bow,
Whose constancy disdains t'allow 10
Those childish passions that destroy
Our fickle joy;
How cruel Fates so e'er appear,
Their harmless anger I despise,
And fix'd, can neither fall nor rise, 15
Thrown below hope, but rais'd 'bove fear.

THE PICTURE.

Thou that both feel'st and dost admire
The flames shot from a painted fire,
Know Celia's image thou dost see:
Not to herself more like is she.
He that should both together view 5
Would judge both pictures, or both true.
But thus they differ: the best part
Of Nature this is; that of Art.

OPINION.

Whence took the diamond worth? the borrow'd rays
That crystal wears, whence had they first their praise?
Why should rude feet contemn the snow's chaste white,
Which from the sun receives a sparkling light,
Brighter than diamonds far, and by its birth 5
Decks the green garment of the richer earth?
Rivers than crystal clearer, when to ice
Congeal'd, why do weak judgements so despise?
Which, melting, show that to impartial sight
Weeping than smiling crystal is more bright. 10
But Fancy those first priz'd, and these did scorn,
Taking their praise the other to adorn.
Thus blind is human sight: opinion gave
To their esteem a birth, to theirs a grave;
Nor can our judgements with these clouds dispense, 15
Since reason sees but with the eyes of sense.

II. LYRICS PRINTED ONLY IN THE EDITION OF 1651.

THE CURE.

_Nymph._

What busy cares, too timely born,
Young swain! disturb thy sleep?
Thy early sigh