Why did not the fore-seeing Gods destroy, _Helin_ the Fire-brand both of _Greece_ and _Troy_, E're yet the Fatal Youth her Face had seen, E're lov'd and born away the wanton Queen? Then had been stopt the mighty Floud of Woe, Which now both _Greece_ and _Phrygia_ over-flow: Then I, these many Teares, should not have shed, Nor thou, the source of them, to War been led: I should not then have trembled at the Fame Of _Hectors_ warlike and victorious Name. Why did I wish the Noble _Hector_ Slain? Why _Ilium_ ruin'd? Rise, O rise again! Again great City flourish from thine Urne: For though thou'rt burn'd, my Lord does not return. Sometimes I think, (but O most Cruel Thought,) That, for thy Absence, th'art thy self in fault: That thou art captiv'd by some captive Dame, Who, when thou fired'st _Troy_, did thee inflame And now with her thou lead'st thy am'rous Life, Forgetful, and despising of thy Wife. An Epitaph on her Self. When I am Dead, few Friends attend my Hearse, And for a Monument, I leave my VERSE. An ODE. Arise my Dove, from mid'st of Pots arise, Thy sully'd Habitation leave, To Dust no longer cleave, Unworthy they of Heaven that will not view the Skies. Thy native Beauty re-assume, Prune each neglected Plume, Till more than Silver white, Then burnisht Gold more bright, Thus ever ready stand to take thy Eternal Flight. II. The Bird to whom the spacious Aire was given, As in a smooth and trackless Path to go, A Walk which does no Limits know Pervious alone to Her and Heaven: Should she her Airy Race forget, On Earth affect to walk and sit; Should she so high a Priviledge neglect, As still on Earth, to walk and sit, affect, What could she of Wrong complain, Who thus her Birdly Kind doth stain, If all her Feathers moulted were, And naked she were left and bare, The Jest and Scorn of Earth and Aire? III. The Bird of Paradice the Soul, _Extemporary Counsel given to a_ Young Gallant _in a_ Frolick. As you are Young, if you'l be also Wise, Danger with Honour court, Quarrels despise; Believe you then are truly Brave and Bold, To Beauty when no Slave, and less to Gold; When Vertue you dare own, not think it odd, Or ungenteel to say, I _fear a God_. _These Three following_ ODES _being found among_ Mrs Killigrews _Papers, I was willing to Print though none of hers_. Cloris Charmes _Dissolved by_ EUDORA. I.