48
COWLEY'S POEMS.
Happy the hands which wear thy sacred rings,
They 'll teach those hands to write mysterious things.
Let other rings, with jewels bright,
Cast around their costly light;
Let them want no noble stone,
By nature rich and art refin'd;
Yet shall thy rings give place to none,
But only that which must thy marriage bind.
They 'll teach those hands to write mysterious things.
Let other rings, with jewels bright,
Cast around their costly light;
Let them want no noble stone,
By nature rich and art refin'd;
Yet shall thy rings give place to none,
But only that which must thy marriage bind.
PROLOGUE TO THE GUARDIAN:
BEFORE THE PRINCE.
Who says the times do learning disallow?
'T is false; 'twas never honour'd so as now.
When you appear, great Prince! our night is done;
You are our morning-star, and shall be' our sun.
But our scene 's London now; and by the rout
We perish, if the Round-heads be about:
For now no ornament the head must wear,
No bays, no mitre, not so much as hair.
How can a play pass safely, when ye know
Cheapside-cross falls for making but a show?
Our only hope is this, that it may be
A play may pass too, made extempore.
Though other arts poor and neglected grow,
They 'll admit Poesy, which was always so.
But we contemn the fury of these days,
And scorn no less their censure than their praise:
'T is false; 'twas never honour'd so as now.
When you appear, great Prince! our night is done;
You are our morning-star, and shall be' our sun.
But our scene 's London now; and by the rout
We perish, if the Round-heads be about:
For now no ornament the head must wear,
No bays, no mitre, not so much as hair.
How can a play pass safely, when ye know
Cheapside-cross falls for making but a show?
Our only hope is this, that it may be
A play may pass too, made extempore.
Though other arts poor and neglected grow,
They 'll admit Poesy, which was always so.
But we contemn the fury of these days,
And scorn no less their censure than their praise:
