144
COWLEY'S POEMS.
Which o'er them yet does brooding set,
They life and motion get,
And, ripe at last, with vigorous might
Break through the shell, and take their everlasting flight!
They life and motion get,
And, ripe at last, with vigorous might
Break through the shell, and take their everlasting flight!
And sure we may
The same too of the present say,
If past and future times do thee obey.
Thou stopp'st this current, and dost make
This running river settle like a lake;
Thy certain hand holds fast this slippery snake!
The fruit which does so quickly waste,
Men scarce can see it, much less taste,
Thou comfitest in sweets to make it last.
This shining piece of ice,
Which melts so soon away
With the sun's ray,
Thy verse does solidate and crystallize,
Till it a lasting mirror be!
Nay, thy immortal rhyme
Makes this one short point of time.
To fill up half the orb of round eternity.
The same too of the present say,
If past and future times do thee obey.
Thou stopp'st this current, and dost make
This running river settle like a lake;
Thy certain hand holds fast this slippery snake!
The fruit which does so quickly waste,
Men scarce can see it, much less taste,
Thou comfitest in sweets to make it last.
This shining piece of ice,
Which melts so soon away
With the sun's ray,
Thy verse does solidate and crystallize,
Till it a lasting mirror be!
Nay, thy immortal rhyme
Makes this one short point of time.
To fill up half the orb of round eternity.
