MART. EP. XV. LIB. 6.
Dum Phaetontea formica vagatur in umbra,
Implicuit tenuem succina gutta feram,
Wise emblem of our politic world,
Sage snail, within thine own self curl'd;
Instruct me softly to make haste,
Whilst these my feet go slowly fast.
To My Noble Friend, Mr Charles Cotton
O thou that swing'st upon the waving ear
Of some well-filled oaten beard,
To the richest Treasury
That e'er fill'd ambitious eye;
To the faire bright Magazin
Hath impoverisht Love's Queen;
Dull as I was, to think that a court fly
Presum'd so neer her eye;
When 'twas th' industrious bee
Mistook her glorious face for paradise,
Invictus victis in partibus omnia Caesar
Vincere qui potuit, te, Cato, non potuit.
Cleft as the top of the inspired hill,
Struggles the soul of my divided quill,
Whilst this foot doth the watry mount aspire,
That Sinai's living and enlivening fire,
Why shouldst thou sweare I am forsworn,
Since thine I vow'd to be?
MAR. LIB. IV. EP. 33.
Et latet et lucet, Phaetontide condita gutta
Ut videatur apis nectare clausa suo.
Behold! three sister-wonders, in whom met,
Distinct and chast, the splendrous counterfeit
Of Juno, Venus and the warlike Maid,
Each in their three divinities array'd;