"Thither thou know'st the World is best inclin'd, Where luring Parnass most his Beams imparts; And Truth, convey'd in verse of gentlest Kind, To read sometimes will move the dullest Hearts; So we, if Children young diseas'd we find, Anoint with Sweets the Vessel's foremost parts, To make them take the Potions sharp we give; They drink deceiv'd, and so deceiv'd they live."
But our poets seldom employ this stanza in compositions of their own; where the following stanza of eight verses are most frequent,
"Some others may with Safety tell The mod'rate Flames which in them dwell; And either find some Med'cine there, Or cure themselves ev'n by Despair: My Love's so great, that it might prove Dang'rous to tell her that I love. So tender is my Wound it cannot bear Any Salute, tho' of the kindest Air."—_Cowley._
Where the rhymes follow one another, and the six first verses consist of eight syllables each, the two last of ten.
We have another sort of stanza of eight verses, where the fourth rhymes to the first, the third to the second, and the four last are two couplets; and where the first, fourth, sixth, and eighth are of ten syllables each, the four others but of eight; as,
"I've often wish'd to love: What shall I do? Me still the cruel Boy does spare; And I a double Task must bear, First to woo him, and then a Mistress too. Come at last, and strike for shame, If thou art any Thing besides a Name; I'll think thee else no God to be, But Poets rather Gods, who first created thee."—_Cowley._
Another, when the two first and two last verses consist of ten syllables each, and rhyme to one another, the four other but of eight in alternate rhyme.
"Tho' you be absent hence, I needs must say, The Trees as beauteous are, and Flow'rs as gay, As ever they were wont to be: Nay the Birds rural Musick too Is as melodious and free, As if they sung to pleasure you. I saw a Rose bud ope this Morn; I'll swear The blushing Morning open'd not more fair."—_Cowley._
Another, where the four first verses are two couplets, the four last in alternate rhyme; as in Cowley's "Ode of a Lady that made Posies for Rings,"
"I little thought the Time would ever be, That I should Wit in dwarfish Posies see, As all Words in few Letters live, Thou to few Words all Sense dost give. 'Twas Nature taught you this rare Art, In such a Little, Much to show; Who all the Good she did impart To womankind, epitomiz'd in you.