Page:The Works of Abraham Cowley - volume 1 (ed. Aikin) (1806).djvu/246

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126
COWLEY'S POEMS.
No gold did e'er the kingly temples bind,
Than thine more try'd and more refin'd.
As a choice medal for Heaven's treasury
God did stamp first upon one side of thee
The image of his suffering humanity:
On th' other side, turn'd now to sight, does shine
The glorious image of his power divine!

So, when the wisest poets seek
In all their liveliest colours to set forth
A picture of heroic worth
(The pious Trojan or the prudent Greek);
They choose some comely prince of heavenly birth
(No proud gigantic son of earth,
Who strives t' usurp the gods' forbidden seat);
They feed him not with nectar, and the meat
That cannot without joy be eat;
But, in the cold of want, and storms of adverse chance,
They harden his young virtue by degrees:
The beauteous drop first into ice does freeze,
And into solid crystal next advance.
His murder'd friends and kindred he does see,
And from his flaming country flee:
Much is he tost at sea, and much at land;
Does long the force of angry gods withstand:
He does long troubles and long wars sustain,
Ere he his fatal birth-right gain.
With no less time or labour can
Destiny build up such a man,
Who's with sufficient virtue fill'd
His ruin'd country to rebuild.