Welcome, sad night, Grief’s sole delight, 30 Thy mourning best agrees With honour’s funeral obsequies! In Thetis’ lap he lies, Mantled with soft securities, Whose too much sunshine dims his eyes. 35 Was he too bold, Who needs would hold With curbing reins the Day, And make Sol’s fiery steeds obey? Then, sure, as rash was I, 40 Who with ambitious wings did fly In Charles’s Wain too loftily. I fall, I fall! Whom shall I call? Alas can he be heard, 45 Who now is neither loved nor feared? You who have vowed the ground To kiss, where my blest steps were found, Come, catch me at my last rebound. How each admires 50 Heaven’s twinkling fires, Whilst from their glorious seat Their influence gives light and heat; But oh! how few there are, Though danger from the act be far, 55 Will run to catch a falling star. Now ’tis too late To imitate Those lights whose pallidness Argues no inward guiltiness; 60 Their course one way is bent; Which is the cause there’s no dissent In Heaven’s High Court of Parliament. _Anon._ XCVI _I’LL NEVER LOVE THEE MORE._ My dear and only Love, I pray That little world of thee Be governed by no other sway But purest monarchy: For if confusion have a part, 5 Which virtuous souls abhor, And hold a Synod in thy heart, I’ll never love thee more. As Alexander I will reign, And I will reign alone; 10 My thoughts did evermore disdain A rival on my throne. He either fears his fate too much, Or his deserts are small, Who dares not put it to the touch, 15 To gain or lose it all. But I will reign and govern still, And always give the law, And have each subject at my will, And all to stand in awe: 20 But ’gainst my batteries if I find Thou storm, or vex me sore, As if thou set me as a blind, I’ll never love thee more. And in the empire of thy heart, 25 Where I should solely be, If others do pretend a part, Or dare to share with me: Or committees if thou erect, Or go on such a score, 30 I’ll smiling mock at thy neglect, And never love thee more.