Heauen if in thy Shrine By turning oft and Heauenseternall Might Thou hast not yet that once sweet Fire of thine ENDEMION forgot and Louers Plight If Cause like thine may Pitie breede in thee And Pitie somewhat els to it obtaine Since thou hast Power of Dreames as well as Hee Who paints strange Figures in the slumbring Braine Now while She sleepes in dolefull Guise her Show These Teares and the blacke Mappe of all my Woe SON LAmpe of Heauens Christall Hall that brings the Hours Eye-dazaler who makes the vglie Night At thine Approach flie to her slumbrie Bowrs And fills the World with Wonder and Delight Life of all Lifes Death giuer by thy Flight To Southerne Pole from these sixe Signes of ours Gold-smith of all the Starres with Siluer bright Who Moone enamells Apelles of the Flowrs Ah from those watrie Plaines thy golden Head Raise vp and bring the so long lingring Morne A Graue nay Hell I finde become this Bed This Bed so grieuously where I am torne But woe is me though thou now brought the Day Day shall but serue more Sorrowe to display SONG IT was the time when to our Northerne Pole The brightest Lampe of Heauen beginnes to rolle When Earth more wanton in new Robes appeareth And scorning Skies her Flowrs in Raine-bowes beareth On which the Aire moist Saphires doth bequeath Which quake to feele the kissing Zephires breath When Birds from shadie Groues their Loue foorth warble And Sea like Heauen Heauen lookes like smoothest Marble When I in simple Course free from all Cares Farre from the muddie Worlds captiuing Snares By Oras flowrie Bancks alone did wander Ora that sports her like to old Meander A Floud more worthie Fame and lasting Praise Than that which Phaetons Fall so high did raise Into whose moouing Glasse the Milke-white Lillies Doe dresse their Tresses and the Daffadillies Where Ora with a Wood is crown'd about And seemes forget the Way how to come out A Place there is where a dâ—…licious Fountaine Springs from the swelling Paps of a proud Mountaine Whose falling Streames the quiet Caues doe wound And make the Ecchoes shrill resound that Sound The Lawrell there the shining Channell graces The Palme her Loue with long-stretch'd Armes embraces The Poplar spreds her Branches to the Skie And hides from sight that azure Cannopie The Streames the Trees the Trees their leaues still nourish That Place graue Winter finds not without Flourish If liuing Eyes Elysian fields could see This litle Arden might Elysium bee Here Diane often vsed to repose Her And Acidalias Queene with Mars reioyce her The Nymphes oft here doe bring their Maunds with Flowres And Anadeames weaue for their Paramours The Satyres in those Shades are heard to languish And make the Shepheards Partners of their Anguish The Shepheards who in Barkes of tender Trees Doe graue their Loues Disdaines and Ielousies Which Phillis when there by Her Flockes she feedeth With Pitie whyles sometime with laughter reedeth Neare to this place when Sunne in midst of Day In highest top of Heauen his Coach did stay And as aduising on his Carier glanced The way did rest the space he had aduanced His panting Steeds along those Fields of light Most princely looking from that gastly hight When most the Grashoppers are heard in Meadowes And loftie Pines haue small or els no Shadowes It was my hap O wofull hap to bide Where thickâ—…st Shades me from all Rayes did hide Into a shut-vp-place some Syluans Chamber Whose Seeling spred was with the Lockes of Amber Of new-bloom'd Sicamors Floore wrought with Flowres More sweâ—…te and rich than those in Princes Bowres Here Adon blush't and Clitia all amazed Lookt pale with Him who in the Fountaine gazed The Aramanthus smyl'd and that sweet Boy Which sometime was the God of Delos joy The braue Carnation speckled Pinke here shined The Violet her fainting Head declined Beneath a drowsie Chasbow all of Gold The Marigoâ—…d her leaues did here vnfold Now â—…hile that rauish'd with delight and wonder Halfe in a trance I lay those Archers vnder The season silence place did all entise Eyes heauie lids to bring Night on their Skies Which softly hauing stollen themselues together Like Euening Clouds me plac'd I wote not whether As Cowards leaue the Fort which they should keepe My senses one by one gaue place to Sleepe Who followed with a Troupe of golden Slombers Thrust from my quiet Braine all base Encombers And thrise me touching with his Rod of Gold A Heauen of Visions in my Temples roll'd To countervaile those Pleasures were bereft me Thus in his silent Prison clos'd he left me Me thought through all the Neighbour Woods a noyce Of Quiristers more sweet than Lute or voyce For those harmonious sounds to IOVE are giuen By the swift touches of the nyne-string'd Heauen Such are and nothing else did wound mine Eare No Soule that then became all Eare to heare And whilst I listning lay O gastly wonder I saw a pleasant Mirtle cleaue asunder A Mirtle great with birth from whose rent wombe Three naked Nymphes more white than snow foorth come For Nymphes they seem'd about their heauenly Faces In Waues of Gold did flow their curling Tresses About each Arme their Armes more white than milke Each weare a blushing Armelet of silke The Goddesses such were that by Scamander Appeared to the Phrygian Alexander Aglaia and her Sisters such perchance Be when about some sacred Spring they dance But scarce the Groue their naked Beauties graced And on the amorous Verdure had not traced When to the Floud they ran the Floud in Robes Of curling Christall to brests Yuorie Globes Who wrapt them all about yet seem'd take pleasure To showe warme Snowes throughout her liquid Azure Looke how Prometheus Man when heauenly Fire First gaue him Breath Dayes Brandon did admire And wondred of this Worlds Amphitheater So gaz'd I on those new guests of the Water All three were faire yet one excell'd as farre The rest as Phebus doth the Cyprian Starre Or Diamonds small Gemmes or Gemmes doe other Or Pearles that shining shell is call'd their Mother Her haire more bright than are the Mornings Beames Hang in a golden shower aboue the Streames And sweetly tous'd her forehead sought to couer VVhich seene did straight a Skie of Milke discouer VVith two faire Browes Loues Bowes which neuer bend But that a Golden Arrow foorth they send Beneath the which two burning Planets glancing Flasht Flames of Loue for Loue there still is dancing Her either Cheeke resembl'd a blushing Morne Or Roses Gueules in field of Lillies borne Betwixt the which a Wall so faire is raised That it is but abased euen when praised Her Lips like Rowes of Corrall soft did swell And th' one like th' other only doth excell The Tyrian Fish lookes pale pale looke the Roses The Rubies pale when Mouths sweet Cherrie closes Her Chinne like siluer Phebe did appeare Darke in the midst to make the rest more cleare Her Necke seem'd fram'd by
Death Sleepes Brother bee And Soules relieu'd of Sense haue so sweete Dreames That I would wish mee thus to dreame and die SON I Curse the Night yet doth from Day mee hide The Pandionian Birds I tyre with Mones The Ecchoes euen are weari'd with my Grones Since Absence did mee from my Blisse diuide Each Dreame each Toy my Reason doth affright And when Remembrance reades the curious Scroule Of pass d Contentments caused by her Sight Then bitter Anguish doth inuade my Soule While thus I liue ecclipsed of her Light O mee what better am I than the Mole Or those whose Zenith is the only Pole Whose Hemispheare is hid with so long Night Saue that in Earth he rests they hope for Sunne I pine and finde mine endlesse Night begunne SON OF Death some tell some of the cruell Paine Which that bad Crafts-man in his Worke did trie When a new Monster Flames once did constraine A humane Corps to yeeld a brutish Crie Some tell of those in burning Beds who lie For that they durst in the Phlegraean Plaine The mightie Rulers of the Skie defie And siege those christall Toâ—…res which all containe An other countes of Phlegethons hote Floods The Soules which drinke Ixions endlesse Smart And his to whom a Vulture eates the Heart One telles of Specters in enchanted Woods Of all those Paines he who the woâ—…st would proue Let him bee absent and but pine in Loue. MAD. TRitons which bounding diue Through Neptunes liquide Plaine When as yee shall arriue With tilting Tides where siluer Ora playes And to your King his watrie Tribute payes Tell how I dying liue And burne in midst of all the coldest Maine SON PLace mee where angry Titan burnes the More And thirstie Africke firâ—…e Monsters brings Or where the new-borne Phoenix spreades her Wings And Troupes of wondring Birds her Flight adore Place mee by Gange or Indes empampred Shore Where smyling Heauens on Earth cause double Springs Place mee where Neptunes Quire of Syrens sings Or where made hoarse through Cold hee leaues to roare Mee place where Fortune doth her Darlings crowne A Wonder or a Sparke in Enuies Eye Or late outragious Fates vpon mee frowne And Pittie wailing see disastred Mee Affections Print my Minde so deepe doth proue I may forget my Selfe but not my Loue. POEMS BY W. D. THE SECOND PART SONNET OF mortall Glorie ô soone darkned Raye O posting Ioyes of Man more swift than Winde O fond Desires which wing'd with Fancies straye O traitrous Hopes which doe our Iudgements blinde Loe in a Flash that Light is gone away Which dazell did each Eye Delight each Minde And with that Sunne from whence it came combinde Now makes more radiant Heauens eternall Day Let Beautie now be blubbred Cheekes with Teares Let widow'd Musicke only roare and plaine Poore Vertue get thee Wings and mount the Spheares And let thine only Name on Earth remaine Death hath thy Temple raz'd Loues Empire foylde The World of Honour Worth and Sweetnesse spoylde SON THose Eyes those sparkling Saphires of Delight Which thousand thousand Hearts did set on fire Which made that Eye of Heauen that brings the Light Oft jealous staye amaz'd them to admire That liuing Snow those crimson Roses bright Those Pearles those Rubies which did breede Desire Those Lockes of Gold that Purple faire of Tyre Are wrapt aye mee vp in eternall Night What hast thou more to vaunt of wretched World Sith shee who cursed thee made blest is gone Thine euer burning Lamps Rounds euer whorld Can vnto thee not modell such a one For if they would such Beautie bring on Earth They should be forc'd againe to make Her breath SON O Fate conspir'd to powre your Worst on mee O rigorous Rigour which doth all confound With cruell Hands yee haue cut downe the Tree And Fruit and Flowre dispersed on the Ground A litle Space of Earth my Loue doth bound That Beautie which did raise it to the Skie Turn'd in nâ—…glected Dust now low doth lie Deafe to my Plaints and senslesse of my Wound Ah! did I liue for this ah did I loue For this and was it shâ—…e did so excell That â—…re shee well Lifâ—…s sweet-sowre Ioyes did proue Shee should too deare a Guest with Horrour dwell Weake Influence of Hâ—…auen what faire yee frame Falles in the Prime and passeth like a Dreame SON O Woefull Life Life no but liuing Death Fraile Boat of Christall in a rockie Sea A Sport expos'd to Fortunes stormie Breath Which kept with Paine with Terrour doth decay The false Delights true Woes thou dost bequeath Mine all-appalled Minde doe so affraye That I those enuie who are laid in Earth And pittie them that runne thy dreadfull Waye When did mine Eyes behold one chearefull Morne When had my tossed Soule one Night of rest When did not hatefull Starres my Projects scorne O! now I finde for Mortalls what is best Euen sith our voyage shamefull is and short Soone to strike Saile and perish in the Port. SON MIne Eyes dissolue your Globes in brinie Streames And with a Cloud of Sorrow dimme your Sight The Sunnâ—…s bright Sunne is set of late whose Beames Gaue Luster to your Day Day to your Night My Voyce now deafen Earth with Anatheames Roare fooâ—…th a Challenge in the Worlds Despight Tell that disguised Grieâ—…e is her Delight That Life a Slumber is of fearfull Dreames And woefull Minde abhorre to thinke of Ioy My Senses all now comfortlesse you hide Accept no Object but of blacke Annoy Teares Plaints Sighs mourning Weeds Graues gaping wide I haue nought left to wish my Hopes are dead And all with Her beneath a Marble laide SON SWeet Soule which in the Aprill of thy Yeares So to enrich the Heauen mad'st poore this Round And now with golden Rayes of Glorie crown'd Most blest abid'st aboue the Spheare of Spheares If heauenly Lawes alas haue not thee bound From looking to this Globe that all vpbeares If Rueth and Pittie there aboue bee found O daigne to lâ—…nd a Looke vnto those Teares Doe not disdaine deare Ghost this sacrifice And though I raise not Pillars to thy Praise Mine Offerings take let this for mee suffice My Heart a liuing Piramide I raise And whilst Kings Tombes with Lawrels flourish greene Thine shall with Mirtles and these Flowrs bee seene MADRIGALL THis Life which seemes so faire Is like a Bubble blowen vp in the Aire By sporting Childrens Breath VVho chase it euery where And striâ—…e who can most Motion it bequeath And though it sometime seeme of its owne Might Like to an Eye of gold to be fix'd there And firme to houer in that emptie Hight That only is because it is so light But in that Pompe it doth not long appâ—…are For euen when most admir'd it in a Thought As swell'd from nothing doth dissolue in nought SON O! It is not to mee bright Lampe of Day That in the East thou shew'st thy rosie Face O! it is not to mee thou leau'st that Sea And in these
POEMS BY WILLIAM DRVMMOND of Hawthrone-denne The second Impression EDINBVRGH Printed by ANDRO HART 1616. To the Author WHile thou dost praise the Roses Lillies Gold Which in a dangling Tresse and Face appeare Still stands the Sunne in Skies thy Songs to heare A Silence sweet each Whispering Wind doth hold Sleepe in Pasitheas Lap his Eyes doth fold The Sword falls from the God of the fift Spheare The Heards to feede the Birds to sing forbeare Each Plant breathes Loue each Flood and Fountaine cold And hence it is that that once Nymphe now Tree Who did th' Amphrisian Shepheards Sighes disdaine And scorn'd his Layes moâ—…'d by a sweeter Veine Is become pittifull and followes Thee Thee loues and vanteth that shee hath the Grace A Garland for thy Lockes to enterlace PARTHENIVS POEMS BY W. D. THE FIRST PART SONNET IN my first Yeeres and Prime yet not at Hight When sweet Conceits my Wits did entertaine Ere Beauties Force I knew or false Delight Or to what Oare shee did her Captiues chaine Led by a sacred Troupe of Phoebus Traine I first beganne to reade then Loue to write And so to praise a perfect Red and White But God wot wist not what was in my Braine Loue smylde to see in what an awfull Guise I turn'd those Antiques of the Age of Gold And that I might moe Mysteries behold Hee set so faire a Volumne to mine Eyes That I quires clos'd which dead dead Sighs but breath Ioye on this liuing Booke to reade my Death SON I Know that all beneath the Moone decayes And what by Mortalles in this World is brought In Times great Periods shall returne to nought That fairest States haue fatall Nights and Dayes I know how all the Muses heauenly Layes With Toyle of Spright which are so dearely bought As idle Sounds of few or none are sought And that nought lighter is than airie Praise I know fraile Beautie like the purple Flowre To which one Morne of Birth and Death affords That Loue a Iarring is of Mindes Accords Where Sense and Will inuassall Reasons Power Know what I list this all can not mee moue But that ô mee I both must write and loue SON YEe who so curiously doe paint your Thoughts Enlightning eu'rie Line in such a Guise That they seeme rather to haue fallen from Skies Than of a humane Hand bee mortall Draughts In one Part Sorrow so tormented lies As if his Life at eu'ry Sigh would parte Loue here blindfolded stands with Bow and Dart There Hope lookes pale Despaire with rainie Eyes Of my rude Pincell looke not for such Arte My Wit I finde now lessened to deuise So high Conceptions to expresse my Smart And some thinke Loue but fain'd if too too wise These troubled Words and Lines confus'd you finde Are like vnto their Modell my sicke Minde SON FAire is my Yoke though grieuous bee my Paines Sweet are my Wounds although they deeply smart My Bit is Gold though shortned bee the Raines My Bondage braue though I may not depart Although I burne the Fire which doth impart Those Flames so sweet reuiuing Force containes That like Arabias Bird my wasted Heart Made quicke by Death more liuely still remaines I joye though oft my waking Eyes spend Teares I neuer want Delight euen when I grone Best companied when most I am alone A Heauen of Hopes I haue midst Hells of Feares Thus euery Way Contentment strange I finde But most in Her rare Beautie my rare Minde SON HOw that vaste Heauen intitled First is rold If any other Worlds beyond it lie And People liuing in Eternitie Or Essence pure that doth this All vphold What Motion haue those fixed Sparkes of Gold The wandring Carbuncles which shine from hie Bâ—… Sprights or Bodies contrare-Wayes in Skie If they bee turn'd and mortall Things behold How Sunne postes Heauen about how Nights pale Queene With borrowed Beames lookes on this hanging Round What Cause faire Iris hath and Monsters seene In Aires laâ—…ge Fields of Light and Seas profound Did hold my wandâ—…ing Thoughts when thy sweet Eye Bade mee leaue all and only thinke on Thee SON VAunt not faire Heauens of your two glorious Lights Which though most bright yet see not when they shine And shining cannot shew their Beames diuine Both in one Place but parte by Dayes and Nights Earth vaunt not of those Treasures yee enshrine Held only deare because hidde from our Sights Your pure and burnish'd Gold your Diamonds fine Snow-passing Iuorie that the Eye delights Nor Seas of those deare Wares are in you found Vaunt not rich Pearle red Corrall which doe stirre A fond Desire in Fooles to plunge your Ground Those all more faire are to bee had in Her Pearle Iuorie Corrall Diamond Sunnes Gold Teeth Necke Lips Heart Eyes Haire are to behold SON THat learned Graecian who did so excell In Knowledge passing Sense that hee is nam'd Of all the after-Worlds Diuine doth tell That at the Time when first our Soules are fram'd Ere in these Mansions blinde they come to dwell They liue bright Rayes of that Eternall Light And others see know loue in Heauens great Hight Not toylde with ought to Reason doth rebell Most true it is for straight at the first Sight My Minde mee told that in some other Place It elsewhere saw the Idea of that Face And lou'd a Loue of heauenly pure Delight No Wonder now I feele so faire a Flame Sith I Her lou'd ere on this Earth shee came SON NOw while the Night her sable Vaile hath spred And silently her restie Coach doth rolle Rowsing with Her from TETHIS azure Bed Those starrie Nymphes which dance about the Pole While CYNTHIA in purest Cipres cled The Latmian Shepheard in a Trance descries And whiles lookes pale from hight of all the Skies Whiles dyes her Beauties in a bashfull Red While Sleepe in Triumph closed hath all Eyes And Birds and Beastes a Silence sweet doe keepe And PROTE vs monstrous People in the Deepe The Winds and Waues husht vp to rest entise I wake muse weepe and who my Heart hath slaine See still before me to augment my Paine SON SLeepe Silence Child sweet Father of soft Rest Prince whose Approach Peace to all Mortalls brings Indifferent Host to Shepheards and to Kings Sole Comforter of Minds with Griefe opprest Loe by thy charming Rod all breathing things Lie slumbring with forgetfulnesse possest And yet o're me to spred thy drowsie Wings Thou spares alas who cannot be thy Guest Since I am thine O come but with that Face To inward Light which thou art wont to show With fained Solace ease a true felt Woe Or if deafe God thou doe denie that Grace Come as thou wilt and what thou wilt bequeath I long to kisse the Image of my Death SON FAire Moone who with thy Cold and Siluer Shine Makes sweet the Horrour of the dreadfull Night Delighting the weake Eye with Smiles diuine Which PHEBVS dazells with his too much Light Bright Queene of the first
heauie light The smallest liuing things by Nature wrought Bee freed of Woe if they haue small Delight Ah only I abandon'd to Despaire Nail'd to my Torments in pale Horrours Shade Like wandring Clouds see all my Comforts fled And Euill on Euill with Hours my Life impaire The Heauen and Fortune which were wont to turne Fixt in one Mansion staye to cause mee mourne SON DEare Eye which daign'st on this sad Monument The sable Scroule of my Mis-haps to view Though with the mourning Muses Teares besprent And darkly drawne which is not fain'd but true If thou not dazell'd with a Heauenly Hue And comely Feature didst not yet lament But happie liu'st vnto thy selfe content O let not Loue thee to his Lawes subdue Looke on the wofull Shipwracke of my Youth And let my Ruines for a Phare thee serue To shunne this Rocke Capharean of Vntrueth And serue no God who doth his Church-men sterue His Kingdome is but Plaints his Guerdon Teares What hee giues more are Iealousies and Feares SON IF crost with all Mil haps bee my poore Life If one short Day I neuer spent in Mirth If my Spright with it selfe holds lasting Strife If Sorrowes Death is but new Sorrowes Birth If this vaine World bee but a sable Stage Where slaue-borne Man playes to the scoffing Starres If Youth bee toss'd with Loue with Weaknesse Age If Knowledge serueto holde our Thoughts in Warres If Time can close the hundreth Mouths of Fame And make what long since past like that to bee If Vertue only bee an idle Name If I when I was bome was borne to die Why seeke I to prolong these loathsome Dayes The fairest Rose in shortest time decayes SON LEt Fortune triumph now and Iö sing Sith I must fall beneath this Load of Care Let Her what most I prize of eu'rie Thing Now wicked Trophees in her Temple reare Shee who high Palmie Empires doth not spare And tramples in the Dust the prowdest King Let Her vaunt how my Blisse Shee did impaire To what low Ebbe Shee now my Flow doth bring Let Her count how a new Ixion Mee Shee in her Wheele did turne how high nor low I neuer stood but more to tortur'd bee Weepe Soule weepe plaintfull Soule thy Sorrowes know Weepe of thy Teares till a blacke Riuer swell Which may Câ—…cytus be to this thy Hell SON O Cruell Beautie Meekenesse inhumaine That Night and day contend with my Desire And seeke my Hope to kill not quench my Fire By Death not Baulme to ease my pleasant Paine Though yee my Thoughts tread downe which would aspire And bound my Blisse doe not alas disdaine That I your matchlesse Worth and Grace admire And for their Cause these Torments sharpe sustaine Let great Empedocles vaunt of his Death Found in the midst of those Sicylian Flames And Phaëton that Heauen him râ—…ft of Breâ—…th And Daedals Sonne He nam'd the Samian Streames Their Haps I enuie not my Praise shall bee The fairest Shee that liu'd gaue Death to mee SON THe Hyperborean Hills Ceraunus Snow Or 〈◊〉 cruell fiâ—…st thee bred The Caspian Tigers with their Milke thee fed And Faunes did humane Bloud on thee bestow Fierce Orithyas Loâ—…er in thy Bed Thee lull'd asleepe where he enrag'd doth blow Thou didst not drinke the Flouds which here doe flow But Tâ—…ares or those by ycie Tanais Hed. Sith thou disdaines my Loue neglects my Griefe Laughs at my Grones and still affects my Death Of thee nor Heauen I 'll seeke no more Reliefe Nor longer entertaine this loathsome Breath But yeeld vnto my Starre that thou mayst proue What Losse thou hadst in losing such a Loue SONG PHoebus arise And paint the sable Skies VVith azure white and Red Rowse Memmons Mother from her Tythons Bed That Shee thy Cariere may with Roses spred The Nightingalles thy Comming each where sing Make an eternall Spring Giue Lâ—…fe to this darke World which lieth dead Spreade foorth thy golden Haire In larger Lockes than thou wast wont before And Emperour-like decore VVith Diademe of Pearle thy Temples faire Chase hence the vglie Night VVhich serues but to make deare thy glorious Light This is that happie Morne That Day long wished Day Of all my Life so darke If cruell Starres haue not my Ruine sworne And Fates not Hope betray VVhich only white deserues A Diamond for euer should it marke This is the Morne should bring vnto this Groue My Loue to heare and recompense my loue Faire King who all preserues But show thy blushing Beames And thou two sweeter Eyes Shalt sâ—…e than those which by Peneus Streames Did once thy Heart surprise Nay Sunnes which shine as cleare As thou when two thou did to Rome appeare Now Flora decke thy selfe in fairest Guise If that yee Winds would heare A Voyce surpassing farre Amphions Lyre Your stormie chiding stay Let Zephyre only breath And with her Tresses play Kissing sometimes these purple Ports of Death The Windes all silent are And Phoebus in his Chaire Ensâ—…ffroning Sea and Aire Makes vanâ—…sh euery Starre Night like a Drunkard râ—…eles Beyond the Hills to shâ—…nne his flaming Wheeles The Fields with Flowrs are deckt in euery Hue The Clouds bespangle with bright Gold their Blew Here is the pleasant Place And eu'ry thing saue Her who all should grace SON WHo hath not seene into her saffron Bed The Mornings Goddesse mildly Her repose Or Her of whose pure Bloud first sprang the Rose Lull'd in a Slumber by a Miâ—…tle Shade Who hath not seene that sleeping White and Red Makes Phoebe looke so pale which Shee did close In that Iönian Hill to ease her Woes Which only liues by Nectare Kisses fed Come but and see my Ladie sweetly sleepe The sighing Rubies of those heauenly Lips The Cupids which Brests golden Apples keepe Those Eyes which shine in midst of their Ecclipse And Hee them all shall see perhaps and proue Shee waking but perswades now forceth Loue. SON OF Cithereas Birds that milke-white paire On yonder leauie Mirtle Tree which grone And waken with their kisses in the Aire Enamour'd Zephyres murmuring one by one If thou but Sense hadst like Pigmalions Stone Or hadst not seene Medusas snakie haire Loues Lessons thou mightst learne and learne sweete Faire To Summers Heat ere that thy Spring bee growne And if those kissing Louers seeme but Cold Looke how that Elme this Iuie doth embrace And bindes and claspes with many a wanton Fold And courting Sleepe o'reshadowes all the Place Nay seemes to say deare Tree we shall not parte In Signe whereof loe in each Leafe a Heart SON THe Sunne is faire when hee with crimson Crowne And flaming Rubies leaues his Easterne Bed Faire is Thaumantias in her christall Gowne When Clouds engemm'd hang azure greene and Red. To Westerne Worlds when wearied Day goes downe And from Heauens Windowes each Starre showes her Hed Earths silent Daughter Night is faire though browne Faire is the Moone though in Loues Liuerie cled Faire Chloris is when Shee doth paint Aprile Faire are
Spheare To that deare Planet of my Heart whose Light Made often blush the glorious Queene of Night While Shee in thee more beautious did appeare What mourning Weedes alas now do'st thou weare How loathsome to mine Eyes is thy sad Sight How poorely look'st thou with what heauie cheare Since that Sunne set which made thee shine so bright Vnhappie now thee close for as of late To wondring Eyes thou wast a Paradise Bereft of Her who made thee fortunate A Gulfe thou art whence Cloudes of Sighes arise But vnto none so noysome as to mee Who hourly see my murth'red Ioyes in thee SON ARe these the flowrie Bankes is this the Mead Where Shee was wont to passe the pleasant hours Did here her Eyes exhale mine Eyes salt Showrs When on her Lap I laide my wearie Head Is this the goodly Elme did vs o'respread Whose tender Rine cut out in curious Flowrs By that white Hand containâ—…s those Flames of Ours Is this the rusling Spring vs Musicke made Deflourish'd Mead where is your heauenly Hue Banke where that Arras did you late adorne How looke yee Elme all withered and forlorne Onely sweet Spring nought altered seemes in you But while here chang'd each other thing appeares To sowre your Streames take of mine Eyes these Teares SON ALexis here shee stay'd among these Pines Sweet Hermitresse shee did alone repaire Here did shee spreade the Treasure of her Haire More rich than that brought from the Colchian Mines Shee set Her by these musket Eglantines The happie Place the Print seemes yet to beare Her Voyce did sweeten here thy sugred Lines To which Winds Trees Beasts Birds did lend their Eare. Mee here shee first perceiu'd and here a Morne Of bright Carnations did o'respreade her Face Here did shee sigh here first my Hopes were borne And I first got a Pledge of promis'd Grace But ah what seru'd it to bee happie so Sith passed Pleasures double but new Woe SON O Night cleare Night O darke and gloomie Day O wofull Waking O Soule-pleasing Sleepe O sweet Conceits which in my Braines did creepe Yet sowre Conceits which went so soone away A Sleepe I had more than poore Words can say For clos'd in Armes mee thought I did thee keepe A sorie Wretch plung'd in Mis-fortunes deepe Am I not wak'd when Light doth Lies bewray O that that Night had euer still bene blacke O that that Day had neuer yet begunne And you mine Eyes would yee no time saw Sunne To haue your Sunne in such a Zodiacke Loe what is good of Life is but a Dreame When Sorrow is a neuer-ebbing Streame SON HAire precious Haire which Midas Hand did straine Part of the Wreathe of Gold that crownes those Browes Which Winters whitest White in Whitenesse staine And Lillie by Eridians Banke that growes Haire fatall Present which first caus'd my Woes When loose yee hang like Danaës golden Raine Sweet Nettes which sweetly doe all Hearts enchaine Strings deadly Strings with which Loue bends his Bowes How are yee hither come tell me O Haire Deare Armelet for what thus were yee giuen I know a Badge of Bondage I you weare Yet Haire for you ô that I were a Heauen Like Berenices Locke that yee might shine But brighter farre about this Arme of mine MAD. VNhappie Light Doe not approach to bring the wofull Day When I must bid for ay Farewell to Her and liue in endlesse Plight Faire Moone with gentle Beames The Sight who neuer marres Long cleare Heauens sable Vault and you bright Starres Your golden Lockes long glasse in Earths pure Streames Let Phoebus neuer rise To dimme your watchfull Eyes Prolong alas prolong my short Delight And if yee can make an eternall Night SON WIth Griefe in Heart and Teares in sowning Eyes When I to Her had giu'n a sad Fare-well Close sealed with a Kisse and Dew which fell On my else-moystned Face from Beauties Skies So strange Amazement did my Minde surprise That at each Pace I fainting turn'd againe Like One whome a Torpedo stupifies Not feeling Honours Bit nor Reasons Raine But when fierce Starres to parte mee did constraine With backe-cast Lookes I â—…nui'd both and bless'd The happie Walles and Place did Her containe Till that Sights Shafts their flying Obiect miss'd So wailing parted Ganamede the faire When Eagles Talents bare him through the Aire MAD. I Feare not hencefoorth Death Sith after this Departure yet I breath Let Rocks and Seas and Wind Their highest Treasons show Let Skie and Earth combinde Striue if they can to ende my Life and Woe Sith Griefe can not mee nothing can o'rethrow Or if that ought can cause my fatall Lot It will bee when I heare I am forgot SON HOw many times Nights silent Queene her Face Hath hid how oft with Starres in siluer Maske In Heauens great Hall shee hath begunne her Taske And chear'd the waking Eye in lower Place How oft the Sunne hath made by Heauens swift Race The happie Louer to forsake the Brest Of his deare Ladie wishing in the West His golden Coach to runne had larger Space I euer count and number â—…ince alas I bade Farewell to my Heaâ—…ts dearest Guest The Miles I compasse and in Minde I chase The Flouds and Mountaines holde mee from my Rest But woe is mee long count and count may I Ere I see Her whose Absence makes mee die SON SO grieuous is my Paine so painefull Life That oft I finde mee in the Armes of Death But Breath halfe gone that Tyrant called Death Who others killes restoreth mee to Life For while I thinke how Woe shall ende with Life And that I quiet Peace shall ioye by Death That Thought euen doth o'repowre the Paines of Death And call mee home againe to lothed Life Thus doth mine euill transcend both Life and Death While no Death is so bad as is my Life Nor no Life such which doth not ende by Death And Protean Changes turne my Death and Life O happie those who in their Birth finde Death Sith but to languish Heauen affordeth Life SON FAme who with golden Pennes abroad dost range Where Phoebus leaues the Night and brings the Day Fame in one Place who restlesse dost not stay Till thou hast flowne from Atlas vnto Gange Fame Enemie to Time that still doth change And in his changing Course would make decay What here below he findeth in his Way Euen making Vertue to her selfe looke strange Daughter of Heauen Now all thy Trumpets sound Raise vp thy Head vnto the highest Skie With Wonder blaze the Gifts in Her are found And when shee from this mortall Globe shall flie In thy wide Mouth keepe long long keepe her Name So thou by Her shee by thee liue shall Fame MAD. THe Iuorie Corrall Gold Of Brest of Lips of Haire So liuely Sleepe doth show to inward Sight That wake I thinke I hold No Shadow but my Faire My selfe so to deceaue With long-shut Eyes I shunne the irkesome Light Such Pleasure thus I haue Delighting in false Gleames If
Place nor Teares False Ioyes vaine Hopes here bee not Hate nor Wrath VVhat ends all Loue here most augments it Death If such Force had the dimme Glance of an Eye VVhich some few Dayes thereafter was to die That it could make thee leaue all other things And like the Taper-slie there burne thy Wings And if a Voyce of late which could but waile Such Power had as through Eares thy Soule to steale If once thou on that only Faire couldst gaze What Flames of Loue would hee within thee raise In what a mazing Maze would it thee bring To heare but once that Quire celâ—…sliall sing The fairest Shapes on which thy Loue did sease VVhich carst did breede Delâ—…ght then would displease Then 〈◊〉 hoarse were Earths entising Sounds All Musicke but a Noyse which Sense confounds This great and burning Glasse that cleares all Eyes And musters with such Glorie in the Skies That siluer Starre which with its sober Light Makes Day oâ—…t enuie the eye-pleasing Night Those golden Letters which so brightly shine In Heauens great Volume gorgeously diuine The VVonders all in Sea in Earth in Aire Bee but darke Pictures of that Soueraigne Faire Bee Tongues which still thus crie into your Eare Could yee amidst VVorlds Cataracts them heare From fading things fond VVights lift your Desire And in our Beautie his vs made admire If wee seeme faire ô thinke how faire is Hee Of whose faire Fairnesse Shadowes Steps we bee No Shadow can compare it with the Face No Step with that deare Foot which did it trace Your Soules immortall are then place them hence And doe not drowne them in the Must of Sense Doe not ô doe not by false Pleasures Might Depriue them of that true and sole Delight That Happinesse yee seeke is not below Earths sweetest Ioy is but disguised VVoe Heere did shee pause and with a milde Aspect Did towards mee those lamping Twinnes direct The wonted Rayes I knew and thrice essay'd To answere make thrice faultring Tongue it stay'd And while vpon that Face I fed my Sight Mee thought shee vanish'd vp in Titans Light Who guilding with his Rayes each Hill and Plaine Seem'd to haue brought the Gold-smiths World againe TEARES ON THE DEATH of Moeliades To the Author IN Waues of Woe thy Sighes my Soule doe tosse And doe burst vp the Conduits of my Teares Whose ranckling Wound no smoothing Baulme long beares But freshly bleedes when Ought vpbraides my Losse Then thou so sweetly Sorrow makes to sing And troubled Passions dost so well accord That more Delight thine Anguish doth afford Than others Ioyes can Satisfaction bring What sacred Wits when rauish'd doe affect To force Affections metamorphose Mindes Whilst numbrous Power the Soule in secret bindes Thou hast perform'd transforming in Effect For neuer Plaints did greater Pittie moue The best Applause that can such Notes approue Sr. W. Alexander TEARES ON THE DEATH of Moeliades O Heauens then is it true that Thou art gone And left this woefull I le her Losse to mone Moeliades bright Day-Starre of the West A Comet blazing Terrour to the East And neither that thy Spright so heauenly wise Nor Bodie though of Earth more pure than Skies Nor royall Stemme nor thy sweet tender Age Of adamantine Fates could quench the Rage O fading Hopes O short-while-lasting Ioy Of Earth-borne Man which one Houre can destroy Then euen of Vertues Spoyles Death Trophees reares As if hee gloried most in many Teares Forc'd by grimme Destiâ—…es Heauens neglect our Cryes Starres seeme set only to acte Tragoedies And let them doe their Worst since thou art gone Raise whom they list to Thrones enthron'd dethrone Staine Princely Bowres with Blood and euen to Gange In Cypresse sad glad Hymens Torches change Ah! thou hast left to liue and in the Time VVhen scarce thou blossom'd in thy pleasant Prime So falles by Northerne Blast a virgine Rose At halfe that doth her bashfull Bosome close So a sweet Flourish languishing decayes That late did blush when kist by Phoebus Rayes So Phoebus mounting the Meridians Hight Choack'd by pale Phoebe faints vnto our Sight Astonish'd Nature sullen stands to see The Life of all this All so chang'd to bee In gloomie Gownes the Starres about deplore The Sea with murmuring Mountaines beates the Shore Blacke Darknesse reeles o're all in thousand Showres The weeping Aire on Earth her Sorrow powres That in a Palsey quakes to finde so soone Her Louer set and Night burst foorth ere Noone If Heauen alas ordain'd thee young to die Why was it not where thou thy Might did'st trie And to the hopefull World at least set forth Some litle Sparke of thine expected Worth Moeliades ô that by Isters Streames Amongst shrill-sounding Trumpets flaming Gleames Of warme encrimson'd Swords and Cannons Roare Balls thicke as Raine pour'd by the Caspian Shore Amongst crush'd Lances ringing Helmes and Shields Dismembred Bodies rauishing the Fields In Turkish Blood made red like Marses Starre Thou endâ—…d hadst thy Life and Christian Warre Or as braue Burbon thou hadst made old Rome Queene of the World thy Triumphs Place and Tombe So Heauens faire Face to the vnborne which reades A Booke had beene of thine illustrous Deedes So to their Nephewes aged Syres had told The high Exploits perform'd by thee of old Townes raz'd and rais'd victorious vanquish'd Bands Fierce Tyrants flying foyl'd kill'd by thy Hands And in deare Arras Virgines faire had wrought The Bayes and Trophees to thy Countrey brought While some new Homer imping Pennes to Fame Deafe Nilus Dwellers had made heare thy Name That thou didst not attaine those Honours Spheares It was not want of Worth ô no but Yeares A Youth more braue pale Troy with trembling Walles Did neuer see nor shee whose Name apalles Both Titans golden Bowres for bloody Fights Mustring on Marses Field such Marse like Knights The Heauens had brought thee to the highest Hight Of Wit and Courage shewing all their Might VVhen they thee fram'd Ay mee that what is braue On Earth they as their owne so soone should craue Moeliades sweet courtly Nymphes deplore From Thuly to Hydaspes pearlie Shore VVhen Forth thy Nurse Forth where thou first didst passe Thy tender Dayes who smyl'd oft on her Glasse To see thee gaze Meandring with her Streames Heard thou hadst left this Round from Phoebus Beames Shee sought to flie but forced to returne By neighbour Brookes Shee gaue her selfe to mourne And as shee rush'd her Cyclades among Shee seem'd to plaine that Heauen had done her wrong VVith a hoâ—…rse Plaint Cleyd downe her steepie Rockes And Tweed through her greene Mountaines cled with Flockes Did wound the Ocean murmuring thy Death The Ocean that roar'd about the Earth And it to Mauritanian Atlas told Who shrunke through Griefe and downe his white Haires roll'd Hudge Streames of Teares that changed were in Floods VVith which hee drown'd the neighbour Plaines and Woods The lesser Brookes as they did bubbling goe Did keepe a Consort vnto publike Woe The Shepheards left
the Meads the Woods the Flouds are faire Faire looketh Ceres with her yellow Haire And Apples Queene when Rose-cheekt Shee doth smile That Heauen and Earth and Seas are faire is true Yet true that all not please so much as you MAD. WHen as shee smiles I finde More light before mine Eyes Nor when the Sunne from Inde Brings to our World a flowrie Paradise But when shee gently weepes And powres foorth pearlie Showres On Checkes faire blushing Flowres A sweet Melancholie my Senses keepes Both feede so my Disease So much both doe me please That oft I doubt which more my Heart doth burne Like Loue to see her smile or Pitie mourne SON SLide soft faire FORTH and make a christall Plaine Cut your white Lockes and on your foamie Face Let not a Wrinckle bee when you embrace The Boat that Earths Perfections doth containe Windes wonder and through wondring holde your Peace Or if that yee your Hearts cannot restraine From sending Sighes mou'd by a Louers Case Sigh and in her faire Haire your selues enchaine Or take these Sighes which Absence makes arise From mine oppressed Brest and waue the Sailes Or some sweet Breath new brought from Paradise Flouds seeme to smile Loue o're the Winds preuailes And yet hudge Waues arise the Cause is this The Ocean striues with FORTH the Boate to kisse SON AH who can see those Fruites of Paradise Celestiall Cherries which so sweetly swell That Sweetnesse selfe confinde there seemes to dwell And all those sweetest Parts about despise Ah! who can see and feele no Flame surprise His hardened Heart for mee alas too well I know their Force and how they doe excell Now burne I through Desire now doe I freeze I die deare Life vnlesse to mee bee giuen As many Kisses as the Spring hath Flowrs Or as the siluer Drops of Iris Showrs Or as the Starres in all embracing Heauen And if displeas'd yee of the Match complaine Yee shall haue leaue to take them backe againe SON IS 't not enough aye mee mee thus to see Like some Heauen-banish'd Ghost still wailing goe A Shadow which your Rayes doe only show To vexe mee more vnlesse yee bid mee die What could yee worse allotte vnto your Foe But die will I so yee will not denie That Grace to mee which mortall Foes euen trie To chuse what sort of Death should ende my Woe One Time I found when as yee did mee kisse Yee gaue my panting Soule so sweet a Touch That halfe I sown'd in midst of all my Blisse I doe but craue my Deaths Wound may bee such For though by Griefe I die not and Annoy Is 't not enough to die through too much Ioy MAD. SWeete Rose whence is this Hue VVhich doth all Hues excell VVhence this most fragrant Smell And whence this Forme and gracing Grace in you In flowrie Paestums Field perhaps yee grew Or Hyblas Hills you bred Or odoriferous Ennas Plaines you fed Or Tmolus or where Bore yong Adon slew Or hath the Queene of Loue you dy'd of new In that deare Bloud which makes you looke so red No none of those but Cause more high you blist My Ladies Brest you bare and Lips you kist SON SHee whose faire flowrs no Autumne makes decay Whose Hue celestiall earthly Hues doth staine Into a pleasant odoriferous Plaine Did walke alone to braue the P◅ide of Maye And whilst through chekred Lists shee made her Way Which smil'd about her Sight to entertaine Loe vnawares where Loue did hid remaine Shee spide and sought to make of him her Prey For which of golden Lockes a fairest Haire To binde the Boy shee tooke But hee afraid At her Approach sprang swiftly in the Aire And mounting ◅arre from Reach look'd backe and said Why shouldst thou Sweet me seeke in Chaines to binde Sith in thine Eyes I dayly am confinde MAD. ON this colde World of Ours Flowre of the Seasons Season of the Flowrs Sonne of the Sunne sweet Spring Such hote and burning Dayes why doest th◅u bring Is this for that those high Eternall Pow'rs Flash downe that Fire this All enuironing Or that now Phoebus keepes his Sisters Spheare Or doth some Phaēton Enflame the Sea and Aire Or rather is it Vsher of the Yeare For that last Day amongst thy Flowrs alone Vnmask'd thou saw'st my Faire And whilst thou on her gaz'd shee did thee burne And in thy Brother Summer doth thee turne SON DEare Wood and you sweet solitarie Place Where from the vulgare I estranged liue Contented more with what your Shades mee giue Than if I had what Thetis doth embrace What snakie Eye growne iealous of my Peace Now from your silent Horrours would mee driue When Sunne progressing in his glorious Race Beyond the Twinnes doth neare our Pole arriue What sweet Delight a quiet Life affords And what it is to bee of Bondage free Farre from the madding Worldlings hoarse Discords Sweet flowrie Place I first did learne of thee Ah! if I were mine owne your deare Resorts I would not change with Princes stately Courts SEXTAIN SIth gone is my Delight and only Pleasure The last of all my Hopes the chearfull Sunne That clear'd my Lifes darke Day Natures sweet Treasure More deare to mee than all beneath the Moone VVhat resteth now but that vpon this Mountaine I weepe till Heauen transforme mee in a Fountaine Fresh faire delicious christall pearlie Fountaine On whose smoothe Face to looke shee oft tooke Pleasure Tell mee so may thy Streames long cheare this Mountaine So Serpent ne're thee staine nor scorch the Sunne So may with gentle Beames thee kisse the Moone Doest thou not mourne to want so faire a Treasure VVhile shee her glass'd in thee rich TAGVS Treasure Thou enuie needed not nor yet the Fountaine In which that Hunter saw the naked Moone Absence hath robb'd thee of thy Wealth and Pleasure And I remaine like Marigold of Sunne Depriu'd that dies by Shadow of some Mountaine Nymphes of the Forrests Nymphes who on this Mountaine Are wont to dance shewing your Beauties Treasure To Goate-feete Syluans and the wondring Sunne VVhen as you gather Flowres about this Fountaine Bid Her Farewell who placed here her Pleasure And sing her Praises to the Starres and Moone Among the lesser Lights as is the Moone Blushing through Scarfe of Clouds on LATMOS Mountaine Or when her siluer Lockes shee lookes for Pleasure In Thetis Streames prowde of so gay a Treasure Such was my Faire when Shee sate by this Fountaine With other Nymphes to shunne the amorous Sunne As is our Earth in Absence of the Sunne Or when of Sunne depriued is the Moone As is without a verdant Shade a Fountaine Or wanting Grasse a Mead a Vale a Mountaine Such is my State bereft of my deare Treasure To know whose only Worth was all my Pleasure Ne're thinke of Pleasure Heart Eyes shunne the Sunne Teares be your Treasure which the wandring Moone Shall see you shed by Mountaine Vale and Fountaine SON THou Window once which serued for a