60
COWLEY'S POEMS.
Thin, empty cloud, which th' eye deceives
With shapes that our own fancy gives!
A cloud, which gilt and painted now appears,
But must drop presently in tears!
When thy false beams o'er Reason's light prevail,
By Ignes Fatui for North-stars we sail.
With shapes that our own fancy gives!
A cloud, which gilt and painted now appears,
But must drop presently in tears!
When thy false beams o'er Reason's light prevail,
By Ignes Fatui for North-stars we sail.
Brother of Fear, more gayly clad!
The merrier fool o' th' two, yet quite as mad:
Sire of Repentance! child of fond Desire!
That blow'st the chemics', and the lovers', fire,
Leading them still insensibly on
By the strange witchcraft of "Anon!"
By thee the one does changing Nature, through
Her endless labyrinths, pursue;
And th' other chases Woman, whilst she goes
More ways and turns than hunted Nature knows.
The merrier fool o' th' two, yet quite as mad:
Sire of Repentance! child of fond Desire!
That blow'st the chemics', and the lovers', fire,
Leading them still insensibly on
By the strange witchcraft of "Anon!"
By thee the one does changing Nature, through
Her endless labyrinths, pursue;
And th' other chases Woman, whilst she goes
More ways and turns than hunted Nature knows.
FOR HOPE.
Hope! of all ills that men endure,
The only cheap and universal cure!
Thou captive's freedom, and thou sick man's health!
Thou loser's victory, and thou beggar's wealth!
Thou manna, which from heaven we eat,
To every taste a several meat!
Thou strong retreat! thou sure-entail'd estate,
Which nought has power to alienate!
The only cheap and universal cure!
Thou captive's freedom, and thou sick man's health!
Thou loser's victory, and thou beggar's wealth!
Thou manna, which from heaven we eat,
To every taste a several meat!
Thou strong retreat! thou sure-entail'd estate,
Which nought has power to alienate!
