411111111 472 P 0 E M S. . And the languith'd mother's womb. Was not long a living tomb, So have I ken fome tender flip, Sav'd with care from vvinter's nip, The pride of her carnation train, Pluck'd up by tome unheedy fvvain, Who only tho6ght to crop 'he (1)W'r New fhot up from vernal fhow'r ; But the fair bleffom hangs the head Side-ways, as on a dying bed, And thole pearls of dew fhe wears, Prove to be prefaging tears, Which the fad morn had let fall On her hail:ping funeral. Gentle Lady, may thy grave Peace and quiet ever have ; After this thy travel fore Sweet reft feife thee evermore, That to give the world increafe, Shortned hail thy own life's leafe. Here, befides the farrowing That thy noble houfe doth bring, Here be tears of perfect moan Wept for thee in Helicon, And fome flowers, and fome bays For thy herfe, to firow the ways, Sent thee from the banks of Came, Devoted to thy virtuous name ' Whilft thou, bright Saint, high fitil in glory, Next her much like to thee in (tory, That fair Syrian fhepherdefs, Who after years of barrennefs, The highly favor'd Jofeph bore To him that ferv'd for her before, And at her next birth much like thee, Through pangs fled to felicity, 35 45 53 60 Far
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