( 115 )
Nor can we this weak show'r a tempest call,
But drops of heat that in the Sun-shine fall.
You have already weari'd Fortune so,
She cannot farther be your Friend or Foe;
But sits all breathless, and admires to feel
A Fate so weighty, that it stops her wheel.
In all things else above our humble fate,
Your equal mind yet swells not into state,
But like some Mountain in those happy Isles,
Where in perpetual Spring young Nature smiles,
Your greatness shews: no horror to afright
But Trees for shade, and Flo'wrs to court the sight;
Sometimes the Hill submits it self awhile
In small descents, which do its height beguile;
And sometimes mounts, but so as billows play,
Whose rise not hinders but makes short our way.
Your Brow which does no fear of Thunder know,
Sees rouling Tempests vainly beat below;
And (like Olympus top,) the impression wears
Of Love and Friendship writ in former years.
Yet unimpair'd with labours or with time
Your age but seems to a new youth to climb.
But drops of heat that in the Sun-shine fall.
You have already weari'd Fortune so,
She cannot farther be your Friend or Foe;
But sits all breathless, and admires to feel
A Fate so weighty, that it stops her wheel.
In all things else above our humble fate,
Your equal mind yet swells not into state,
But like some Mountain in those happy Isles,
Where in perpetual Spring young Nature smiles,
Your greatness shews: no horror to afright
But Trees for shade, and Flo'wrs to court the sight;
Sometimes the Hill submits it self awhile
In small descents, which do its height beguile;
And sometimes mounts, but so as billows play,
Whose rise not hinders but makes short our way.
Your Brow which does no fear of Thunder know,
Sees rouling Tempests vainly beat below;
And (like Olympus top,) the impression wears
Of Love and Friendship writ in former years.
Yet unimpair'd with labours or with time
Your age but seems to a new youth to climb.
Thus
