Providence to open view,
And hath each point in orient colours painted
Not to deceive the sight with seeming shew
But earnest to give either part their due;
Now urging th' uncouth strange perplexitie
Of infinite worlds and Time, then of a new
Softening that harsher inconsistencie
To fit the immense goodnesse of the Deity.

107

And here by curious men 't may be expected
That I this knot with judgement grave decide,
And then proceed to what else was objected.
But, ah! What mortall wit may dare t' areed
Heavens counsels in eternall horrour hid?
And Cynthius pulls me by my tender ear
Such signes I must observe with wary heed:
Wherefore my restlesse Muse at length forbear.
Thy silver sounded Lute hang up in silence here.

FINIS.

Cupids Conflict.

_Mela._ _Cleanthes._

_Cl._ _Mela_ my dear! why been thy looks so sad
As if thy gentle heart were sunk with care?
Impart thy case; for be it good or bad
Friendship in either will bear equall share.
_Mel._ Not so; _Cleanthes_, for if bad it be
My self must bleed afresh by wounding thee.

But what it is, my slow, uncertain wit
Cannot well judge. But thou shalt sentence give
How manfully of late my self I quit,
When with that lordly lad by chance I strive:
_Cl._ Of friendship _Mela_! let's that story hear.
_Mel._ Sit down _Cleanthes_ then, and lend thine ear.

Upon a day as best did please my mind
Walking abroad amidst the verdant field
Scattering my carefull thoughts i' th' wanton wind
The pleasure of my path so farre had till'd
My feeble feet that without timely rest
Uneath it were to reach my wonted nest.

In secret shade farre moved from mortals sight
In lowly dale my wandring limbs I laid
On the cool grasse where Natures pregnant wit
A goodly bower of thickest trees had made.
Amongst the leaves the chearfull birds did fare
And sweetly carrol'd to the echoing air.

Hard at my feet ran down a crystall spring
Which did the cumbrous pebbles hoarsly chide
For standing in the way. Though murmuring
The broken stream his course did rightly guide
And strongly pressing forward with disdain
The grassie flore divided into twain.

The place a while did feed my foolish eye
As being new, and eke mine idle ear
Did listen oft to that wild harmonie
And oft my curious phansie would compare
How well agr