To my Lady Morton on New-years-day, 1650. At the Louver in Paris. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A97033 of text R210888 in the English Short Title Catalog (Thomason 669.f.26[46]). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 3 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 1 1-bit group-IV TIFF page image. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A97033 Wing W527 Thomason 669.f.26[46] ESTC R210888 99869640 99869640 163928 2240944734

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A97033) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 163928) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 247:669f26[46]) To my Lady Morton on New-years-day, 1650. At the Louver in Paris. Waller, Edmund, 1606-1687, attributed name. 1 sheet ([1] p.) Printed for Henry Herringman on the Lower walk of the New Exchange, London : 1661. Anonymous. By Edmund Waller. In verse - "New years may well expect to finde". Annotation on Thomason copy: "10 January 1660"; the 1 in the imprint date has been crossed out. Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng eebo To my Lady Morton on New-years-day, 1650. At the Louver in Paris. Waller, Edmund, attributed name. 1606-1687 1661 1 497 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2007-06 Assigned for keying and markup 2007-06 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-08 Sampled and proofread 2007-08 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion
TO MY LADY MORTON ON New-years-day , 1650. AT THE LOUVER IN PARIS . Madam , NEw years may well expect to finde Welcom from you , to whom they are so kind , Still as they passe , they court , and smile on you , And make your beauty as themselves seem new : To the fair Villars we Dalkith prefer , And fairest Morton now as much to her ; So like the Sun 's advance your titles show , Which , as he rises , does the warmer grow . But thus to stile you fair , your Sexes praise , Gives you but Mirtle , who may challenge Bays : From armed foes to bring a royal prize , Shews your brave Heart Victorious , as your Eyes ; If Judith marching with the Generals head Can give us passion when her storie 's read , What may the living doe which brought away , Though a lesse bloody , yet a nobler prey ? Who from our flaming Troy , with a bold hand Snatch'd her fair Charge , the Princess , like a brand , A brand preserv'd to warm some Princes heart , And make whole Kingdomes take her Brothers part ; So Venus from prevailing Greeks did shrowd The hope of Rome , and sav'd him in a cloud ; This gallant act may cancell all our rage , Begin a better , and absolve this age . Dark shades become the portrayt of our time , Here weeps Misfortune , and there triumphs Crime . Let him that drawes it hide the rest in night , This portion only may indure the light , Where the kind Nimph changing her faultless shape Becomes unhandsome , handsomly to scape , When through the Guards , the River , and the Sea , Faith , Beauty , Wit , and Courage , made their way . As the brave Eagle does with sorrow see The Forest wasted , and that lofty Tree , Which holds her neast about to be ore'thrown , Before the feathers of her young are grown , She will not leave them , nor she cannot stay , But bears them boldly on her wings away ; So fled the Dame , and o're the Ocean bore Her Princely burthen to the Gallick shore . Born in the storms of war , this royal fayr , Produc'd like lightning in tempestuous ayr , Though now she flyes her native Isle , less kinde , Less safe for her , than either Sea or Winde , Shall , when the blossom of her Beauty 's blown , See her great Brother on the British Throne , Where peace shall smile , and no dispute arise , But which Rules most , his Scepter , or her Eyes .

LONDON , Printed for Henry Herringman on the Lower walk of the New Exchange . 1661.