UPON THE THREE DAUGHTERS OF MY DEAR BROTHER MR. R. CAESAR.<87.1> Behold! three sister-wonders, in whom met, Distinct and chast, the splendrous<87.2> counterfeit<87.3> Of Juno, Venus and the warlike Maid, Each in their three divinities array'd; The majesty and state of Heav'ns great Queen, And when she treats the gods, her noble meen; The sweet victorious beauties and desires O' th' sea-born princess, empresse too of fires; The sacred arts and glorious lawrels torn From the fair brow o' th' goddesse father-born; All these were quarter'd in each snowy coat, With canton'd<87.4> honours of their own, to boot. Paris, by fate new-wak'd from his dead cell, Is charg'd to give his doom impossible. He views in each the brav'ry<87.5> of all Ide; Whilst one, as once three, doth his soul divide. Then sighs so equally they're glorious all: WHAT PITY THE WHOLE WORLD IS BUT ONE BALL! <87.1> Second son of Sir John Caesar, Knt., who was the second surviving son of Sir Julius Caesar, Knt., Master of the Rolls. Mr. Robert Caesar married the poet's sister Johanna, by whom he had three daughters, co-heirs--Anne, Juliana, and Johanna. These are the ladies commemorated in the text. See Lodge's LIFE OF SIR JULIUS CAESAR, 1827, p. 54. <87.2> Original reads SPLENDORS. <87.3> This word is here used to signify simply RESEMBLANCE or COPY. <87.4> i.e. quartered. CANTON, in heraldry, is a square space at one of the corners of a shield of arms. <87.5> Bravery here means, as it often does in writers of and before the time of Lovelace, A BEAUTIFUL OR FINE SPECTACLE, or simply BEAUTY. BRAVE in the sense of FINE (gaudy or gallant) is still in use. PEINTURE. A PANEGYRICK TO THE BEST PICTURE OF FRIENDSHIP, MR. PET. LILLY. If Pliny, Lord High Treasurer of all<88.1> Natures exchequer shuffled in this our ball,<88.2> Peinture her richer rival did admire, And cry'd she wrought with more almighty fire, That judg'd the unnumber'd issue of her scrowl, Infinite and various as her mother soul, That contemplation into matter brought, Body'd Ideas, and could form a thought. Why do I pause to couch the cataract,<88.3> And the grosse pearls from our dull eyes abstract, That, pow'rful Lilly, now awaken'd we This new creation may behold by thee?