No More Learning

_Simnel_, a cake, originally made of fine flour, eaten at Mid-Lent.
_A-mothering_, visiting relations in Mid-Lent, but see Note.


685. TO THE KING.

Give way, give way! now, now my Charles shines here
A public light, in this immensive sphere;
Some stars were fix'd before, but these are dim
Compar'd, in this my ample orb, to him.
Draw in your feeble fires, while that he
Appears but in his meaner majesty.
Where, if such glory flashes from his name,
Which is his shade, who can abide his flame!
_Princes, and such like public lights as these,
Must not be look'd on but at distances:
For, if we gaze on these brave lamps too near,
Our eyes they'll blind, or if not blind, they'll blear. _

_Immensive_, immeasurable.


686. THE FUNERAL RITES OF THE ROSE.

The rose was sick, and smiling died;
And, being to be sanctified,
About the bed there sighing stood
The sweet and flowery sisterhood.
Some hung the head, while some did bring,
To wash her, water from the spring.
Some laid her forth, while others wept,
But all a solemn fast there kept.
The holy sisters, some among,
The sacred dirge and trentall sung.
But ah! what sweets smelt everywhere,
As heaven had spent all perfumes there.
At last, when prayers for the dead
And rites were all accomplished,
They, weeping, spread a lawny loom
And clos'd her up, as in a tomb.

_Trentall_, a service for the dead.


687. THE RAINBOW, OR CURIOUS COVENANT.

Mine eyes, like clouds, were drizzling rain;
And as they thus did entertain
The gentle beams from Julia's sight
To mine eyes levell'd opposite,
O thing admir'd! there did appear
A curious rainbow smiling there;
Which was the covenant that she
No more would drown mine eyes or me.


688. THE LAST STROKE STRIKES SURE.

Though by well warding many blows we've pass'd,
_That stroke most fear'd is which is struck the last_.


689. FORTUNE.

Fortune's a blind profuser of her own,
Too much she gives to some, enough to none.


690.