Page:The Works of Abraham Cowley - volume 2 (ed. Aikin) (1806).djvu/147

Wallows in wealth, and runs a turning maze,
That no vulgar eye can trace.
Art, instead of mounting high,
About her humble food does hovering fly;
Like the ignoble crow, rapine and noise does love:
Whilst Nature, like the sacred bird of Jove,
Now bears loud thunder; and anon with silent joy
The beauteous Phrygian boy
Defeats the strong, o'ertakes the flying prey,
And sometimes basks in th' open flames of day;
And sometimes too he shrowds
His soaring wings among the clouds.

Leave, wanton Muse! thy roving flight;
To thy loud string the well-fletcht arrow put;
Let Agrigentum be the Butt,
And Theron be the White.
And, lest the name of verse should give
Malicious men pretext to misbelieve,
By the Castalian waters swear
(A sacred oath no poets dare
To take in vain,
No more than Gods do that of Styx profane),
Swear, in no city e'er before,
A better man, or greater-soul'd, was born;
Swear, that Theron sure has sworn
No man near him should be poor;
Swear, that none e'er had such a graceful art
Fortune's free gifts as freely to impart,
With an unenvious hand, and an unbounded heart.