Land For all the glories of the Earth Ought to be ' entail'd by right of Birth And all Heaven's blessings to come down Upon his Race to whom alone was given The double Royalty of Earth and Heaven VVho crown'd the Kingly with the Martyr's Crown 9. The Martyr's blood was said of old to be The seed from whence the Church did grow The Royal Bloud which dying Charles did sow Becomes no less the seed of Royalty 'T was in dishonour sown We find it now in glory grown The Grave could but the dross of it devour 'T was sown in weakness and 't is rais'd in power We now the Question well decided see Which Eastern Wits did once contest At the Great Monarch's Feast Of all on earth what things the strongest be And some for Women some for Wine did plead That is for Folly and for Rage Two things which we have known indeed Strong in this latter Age. But as 't is prov'd by Heaven at length The King and Truth have greatest strength When they their sacred force unite And twine into one Right No frantick Common-wealths or Tyrannies No Cheats and Perjuries and Lies No Nets of humane Policies No stores of Arms or Gold though you could joyn Those of Peru to the great London Mine No Towns no Fleets by Sea or Troops by Land No deeply entrencht Islands can withstand Or any small resistance bring Against the naked Truth and the unarmed King 10. The foolish Lights which Travellers beguile End the same night when they begin No Art so far can upon Nature win As e're to put out Stars or long keep Meteors in Wher 's now that Ignis Fatuus which e'rewhile Mis-lead our wandring Isle Where 's the Impostor Cromwell gon Where 's now that Falling-star his Son Where 's the large Comet now whose raging flame So fatal to our Monarchy became Which o're our heads in such proud horror stood Insatiate with our Ruine and our Blood The fiery Tayl did to vast length extend And twice for want of Fuel did expire And twice renew'd the dismal Fire Though long the Tayl we saw at last it's end The flames of one triumphant day Which like an Anti-Comet here Did fatally to that appear For ever frighted it away Then did th' allotted hour of dawning Right First strike our ravisht sight Which Malice or which Art no more could stay Than Witches Charms can a retardment bring To the Resuscitation of the Day Or Resurrection of the Spring We welcome both and with improv'd delight Bless the preceding Winter and the Night 11. Man ought his Future Happiness to fear If he be alwayes Happy here He wants the Bleeding Mark of Grace The Circumcision of the Chosen race If no one part of him supplies The duty of a Sacrifice He is we doubt reserv'd intire As a whole Victime for the Fire Besides even in this World below To those who never did Ill Fortune know The good does nauseous or insipid grow Consider man's whole Life and you 'l confess The Sharp Ingredient of some bad success Is that which gives the Taste to all his Happiness But the true Method of Felicitie Is when the worst Of humane Life is plac'd the first And when the Childs Correction proves to be The cause of perfecting the Man Let our weak Dayes lead up the Van Let the brave Second and Triarian Band Firm against all impression stand The first we may defeated see The Virtue and the Force of these are sure of Victory 12. Such are the years great Charles which now we see Begin their glorious March with Thee Long may their March to Heaven still Triumphant be Now thou art gotten once before Ill Fortune never shall o're-take thee more To see 't again and pleasure in it find Cast a disdainful look behind Things which offend when present and affright In Memory well painted move delight Enjoy then all thy ' afflictions now Thy Royal Father's came at last Thy Martyrdom's already past And different Crowns to both ye owe. No Gold did e're the Kingly Temples bind Than thine more try'd and more refin'd As a choise Medal for Heaven's Treasury God did stamp first upon one side of Thee The Image of his suffering Humanity On th' other side turn'd now to sight does shine The glorious Image of his Power Divine 13. So when the wisest Poets seek In all their liveliest colours to set forth A Picture of Heroick worth The Pious Trojan or the Prudent Greek They chuse some comely Prince of heavenly Birth No proud Gigantick son of Earth Who strives t' usurp the god's forbidden seat They feed him not with Nectar and the Meat That cannot without Ioy be eat But in the cold of want and storms of adverse chance They harden his young Virtue by degrees The beauteous Drop first into Ice does freez And into solid Chrystal next advance His murdered friends and kindred he does see And from his flaming Country flee Much is he tost at Sea and much at Land Does long the force of angry gods withstand He does long troubles and long wars sustain E're he his fatal Birth-right gain With no less time or labour can Destiny build up such a Man Who 's with sufficient virtue fill'd His ruin'd Country to rebuild 14. Nor without cause are Arms from Heaven To such a Hero by the Poets given No human Metal is of force t' oppose So many and so violent blows Such was the Helmet Breast-plate Shield Which Charles in all Attaques did wield And all the Weapons Malice e're could try Of all the several makes of wicked Policy Against this Armour struck but at the stroke Like Swords of Ice in thousand pieces broke To Angels and their Brethren Spirits above No show on Earth can sure so pleasant prove As when they great misfortunes see With Courage born and Decency So were they born when Worc'ster's dismal Day Did all the terrors of black Fate display So were they born when no Disguises clowd His inward Royalty could shrowd And one of th' Angels whom just God did send To guard him in his noble flight A Troop of Angels did him then attend Assur'd me in a Vision th' other night That He and who could better judge than He Did then more Greatness in him see More Lustre and more Majesty Than all his Coronation Pomp can shew to Human Eye 15. Him and his Royal Brothers when I saw New marks of honour and of glory From their affronts and sufferings draw And look like Heavenly Saints even in their Purgatory Me-thoughts I saw the three Iudaean Youths Three unhurt Martyrs for the Noblest Truths In the Chaldaean Furnace walk How chearfully and unconcern'd they talk No hair is sindg'd no smallest beauty blasted Like painted Lamps they shine unwasted The greedy fire it self dares not be fed With the blest Oyl of an Anoynted Head The honourable Flame Which rather Light we ought to name Does like a Glory compass them around And their whole Body 's
VERSES WRITTEN UPON SEVERAL OCCASIONS BY ABRAHAM COWLEY LONDON Printed for Henry Herringman and are to be sold at his Shop on the Lower walk in the New Exchange 1663. MOst of these Verses which the Author had no intent to publish having been lately printed at Dublin without his consent or knowledge and with many and some gross mistakes in the Impression He hath thought fit for his justification in some part to allow me to reprint them here Henry Herringman VERSES WRITTEN UPON SEVERAL OCCASIONS CHRISTS PASSION Taken out of a Greek Ode written by Mr. Masters of New College in Oxford 1. ENough my Muse of earthly things And inspirations but of wind Take up thy Lute and to it bind Loud and everlasting strings And on 'em play and to 'em sing The happy mournfull stories The Lamentable glories Of the great Crucifyed King Mountainous heap of wonders which do'st rise Till Earth thou joynest with the Skies Too large at bottom and at top too high To be half seen by mortal eye How shall I grasp this boundless thing What shall I play what shall I sing I 'le sing the mighty riddle of mysterious love Which neither wretched men below nor blessed Spirits above With all their Comments can explain How all the whole World's Life to dye did not disdain 2. I 'le sing the Searchless depths of the Compassion Divine The depths unfathom'd yet By reasons Plummet and the line of Wit Too light the Plummet and too short the line How the Eternal Father did bestow His own Eternal Son as ransom for his foe I 'le sing aloud that all the World may hear The triumph of the buried Conquerer How hell was by its Pris'ner Captive led And the great Slayer Death slain by the Dead 3. Me thinks I hear of murthered men the voice Mixt with the Murderers confused noise Sound from the top of Calvarie My greedy eyes fly up the Hill and see Who 't is hangs there the midmost of the three Oh how unlike the others he Look how he bends his gentle head with blessings from the tree His gratious hands ne're stretcht but to do good Are nail'd to the infamous wood And sinfull Man do's fondly bind The Arms which he extends t' embrace all humane kind 4. Unhappy Man can'st thou stand by and see All this as patient as he Since he thy Sins do's bear Make thou his sufferings thine own And weep and sigh and groan And beat thy Breast and tear Thy Garments and thy Hair And let thy grief and let thy love Through all thy bleeding bowels move Do'st thou not see thy Prince in purple clad all o're Not purple brought from the Sidonian shore But made at home with richer gore Dost thou not see the Roses which adorn The thorny Garland by him worn Dost thou not see the livid traces Of the sharp scourges rude embraces If yet thou feelest not the smart Of Thorns and Scourges in thy heart If that be yet not Crucified Look on his hands look on his feet look on his side 5. Open Oh! open wide the Fountains of thine eyes And let 'em call Their stock of moisture forth where ere it lyes For this will ask it all 'T would all alas too little be Though thy salt tears came from a Sea Can'st thou deny him this when he Has open'd all his vital Springs for thee Take heed for by his sides mysterious flood May well be understood That he will still require some waters to his blood On Orinda's Poems ODE WE allow'd You Beauty and we did submit To all the Tyrannies of it Ah! Cruel Sex will you depose us too in Wit Orinda do's in that too raign Do's Man behind her in Proud Triumph draw And Cancel great Apollo's Salick Law We our old Title plead in vain Man may be Head but Woman 's now the Brain Verse was Loves fire-arms heretofore In Beauties Camp it was not known Too many Armes besides that Conquerour bore 'T was the great Canon we brought down T' assault a stubborn Town Orinda first did a bold sally make Our strongest Quarter take And so succesfull prov'd that she Turn'd upon Love himself his own Artillery 2. Women as if the Body were their Whole Did that and not the Soul Transmit to their Posterity If in it sometime they conceiv'd Th' abortive Issue never liv'd 'T were shame and pitty ' Orinda if in thee A Spirit so rich so noble and so high Should unmanur'd or barren lye But thou industriously hast sow'd and till'd The fair and fruitfull field And 't is a strange increase that it doth yield As when the happy Gods above Meet altogether at a feast A secret Joy unspeakably does move In their great Mother Cybele's contented breast With no lesse pleasure thou methinks shouldst see Th's thy no less Immortal Progenie And in their Birth thou no one touch dost find Of th' ancient Curse to Woman-kind Thou bring'st not forth with pain It neither Travel is nor Labour of the brain So easily they from thee come And there is so much room In th' unexhausted and unfathom'd Womb That like the Holland Countess thou mayst bear A child for every day of all the fertil year 3. Thou dost my wonder wouldst my envy raise If to be prais'd I lov'd more than to praise Where e're I see an excellence I must admire to see thy well knit sense Thy numbers gentle and thy Fancies high Those as thy fore-head smooth these sparkling as thine eye 'T is solid and 't is manly all Or rather 't is Angelical For as in Angels we Do in thy Verses see Both improv'd Sexes eminently meet They are than Man more strong and more than Woman sweet 4. They talk of Nine I know not who Female Chimera's that o're Poets reign I ne'r could find that fancy true But have invok'd them oft I 'm sure in vain They talk of Sappho but alass the shame Ill manners soil the lustre of her Fame Orinda's inward virtue is so bright That like a Lanthorn's fair inclosed Light It through the paper shines where she does write Honour and Friendship and the Generous scorn Of things for which we were not born Things that can only by a fond Disease Like that of Girles our vicious Stomachs please Are the instructive Subjects of her pen And as the Roman Victory Taught our rude Land Arts and Civility At once she overcomes enslaves and betters Men. 5. But Rome with all her Arts could ne're inspire A Female Breast with such a fire The warlike Amazonian train Who in Elysium now do peacefull reign And wits milde Empire before Arms prefer Hope 't will be setled in their sex by her Merlin the Seer and sure he would not ly In such a sacred Company Does Prophecies of Learn'd Orinda show Which he had darkly spoke so long ago Ev'n Boadicia's angry Ghost Forgets her own misfortune and disgrace And to her injur'd Daughters now does boast That Rome's o'recome at last by'a woman of her
quick and fierce Gold through Doors and walls did peirce And as that works sometimes upon the sword Melted the Maiden-head away Even in the secret scabbard where it lay The Prudent Macedonian King To blow up Towns a Golden Mine did spring He broke through Gates with this Petar 'T is the great Art of peace the Engine 't is of war And Fleets and Armies follow it afar The Ensign 't is at Land and 't is the Seaman's Star 3. Let all the VVorld slave to this Tyrant be Creature to this disguised Deitie Yet it shall never conquer me A Guard of Virtues will not let it pass And wisdom is a Tower of stronger brass The Muses Lawrel round my Temples spread 'T does from this Lightnings force secure my head Nor will I lift it up so high As in the violent Meteors way to lye VVealth for its power doe we honour and adore The things we hate ill Fate and Death have more 4. From Towns and Courts Camps of the Rich and Great The vast Xerxean Army I retreat And to the small Laconick forces fly VVhich hold the straights of Poverty Sellars and Granaries in vain we fill VVith all the bounteous Summers store If the mind thirst and hunger still The poor rich man's emphatically poor Slaves to the things we too much prize VVe Masters grow of all that we despise 5. A field of Corn a Fountain and a Wood Is all the Wealth by Nature understood The Monarch on whom fertil Nile bestowes All which that grateful Earth can bear Deceives himself if he suppose That more than this falls to his share Whatever an Estate does beyond this afford Is not a rent paid to the Lord But is a tax illegal and unjust Exacted from it by the Tyrant Lust. Much will alwayes wanting be To him who much desires Thrice happy He To whom the wise indulgency of Heaven VVith sparing hand but just enough has given The Complaint 1. IN a deep Vision 's intellectual scene Beneath a Bow'r for sorrow made Th' uncomfortable shade Of the black Yew's unlucky green Mixt with the mourning Willow's careful gray Where Reverend Cham cuts out his Famous way The Melancholy Cowley lay And Lo a Muse appear'd to ' his closed sight The Muses oft in Lands of Vision play Bodied arrayed and seen by an internal Light A golden Harp with silver strings she bore A wondrous Hieroglyphick Robe she wore In which all Colours and all figures were That Nature or that fancy can create That Art can never imitate And with loose Pride it wanton'd in the Air. In such a Dress in such a well-cloath'd Dream She us'd of old near fair Ismenus Stream Pindar her Theban Favourite to meet A Crown was on her Head and wings were on her Feet 2. She touch'd him with her Harp and rais'd him from the Ground The shaken strings Melodiously Resound Art thou return'd at last said she To this forsaken place and me Thou Prodigal who didst so loosely waste Of all thy Youthful years the good Estate Art thou return'd here to repent too late And gather husks of Learning up at last Now the Rich Harvest time of Life is past And Winter marches on so fast But when I meant t' adopt Thee for my Son And did as learn'd a Portion assign As ever any of the mighty Nine Had to their dearest Children done When I resolv'd t' exalt thy ' anointed Name Among the Spiritual Lords of peaceful Fame Thou Changling thou bewitcht with noise and show Wouldst into Courts and Cities from me go Wouldst see the World abroad and have a share In all the follies and the Tumults there Thou would'st forsooth be something in a State And business thou would'st find and would'st Create Business the frivolous pretence Of humane Lusts to shake off Innocence Business the grave impertinence Business the thing which I of all things hate Business the contradiction of thy Fate 3. Go Renegado cast up thy Account And see to what Amount Thy foolish gains by quitting me The sale of Knowledge Fame and Liberty The fruits of thy unlearn'd Apostacy Thou thought'st if once the publick storm were past All thy remaining Life should sun-shine be Behold the publick storm is spent at last The Soveraign is tost at Sea no more And thou with all the Noble Companie Art got at last to shore But whilst thy fellow Voyagers I see All marcht up to possess the promis'd Land Thou still alone alas dost gaping stand Upon the naked Beach upon the Barren Sand. 4. As a fair morning of the blessed spring After a tedious stormy night Such was the glorious Entry of our King Enriching moysture drop'd on every thing Plenty he sow'd below and cast about him light But then alas to thee alone One of Old Gideons Miracles was shown For every Tree and every Herb around With Pearly dew was crown'd And upon all the quickned ground The Fruitful seed of Heaven did brooding lye And nothing but the Muses Fleece was dry It did all other Threats surpass When God to his own People said The Men whom through long wandrings he had led That he would give them ev'n a Heaven of Brass They look'd up to that Heaven in vain That Bounteous Heaven which God did not restrain Upon the most unjust to shine and Rain 5. The Rachel for which twice seven years and more Thou didst with Faith and Labour serve And didst if Faith and labour can deserve Though she contracted was to thee Giv'n to another thou didst see Giv'n to another who had store Of fairer and of Richer Wives before And not a Leah left thy recompence to be Go on twice seven years more thy fortune try Twice seven years more God in his bounty may Give thee to fling away Into the Courts deceitful Lottery But think how likely 't is that thou With the dull work of thy unwieldy Plough Shouldst in a hard and Barren season thrive Shouldst even able be to live Thou to whose share so little bread did fall In the miraculous year when Manna rain'd on all 6. Thus spake the Muse and spake it with a smile That seem'd at once to pity and revile And to her thus raising his thoughtful head The Melancholy Cowley said Ah wanton foe dost thou upbraid The Ills which thou thy self hast made When in the Cradle innocent I lay Thou wicked Spirit stole'st me away And my abused Soul didst bear Into thy new found Worlds I know not where Thy Golden Indies in the Air And ever since I strive in vain My ravisht Freedom to regain Still I Rebell still thou dost Reign Lo still in verse against thee I complain There is a sort of stubborn Weeds Which if the Earth but once it ever breeds No wholsom Herb can near them thrive No useful Plant can keep alive The foolish sports I did on thee bestow Make all my Art and Labour fruitless now Where once such Fairies dance no grass doth ever grow 7. When my new mind had no infusion known Thou gav'st so deep a tincture of thine own That ever since I vainly try To wash away th' inherent dye Long work perhaps may spoil thy Colours quite But never will reduce the native white To all the Ports of Honour and of gain I often stear my course in vain Thy Gale comes cross and drives me back again Thou slack'nest all my Nerves of Industry By making them so oft to be The tinckling strings of thy loose minstrelsie Who ever this Worlds happiness would see Must as entirely cast off thee As they who only Heaven desire Do from the World retire This was my Errour This my gross mistake My self a demy-votary to make Thus with Saphira and her Husbands fate A fault which I like them am taught too late For all that I gave up I nothing gain And perish for the part which I retain 8. Teach me not then O thou fallacious Muse The Court and better King t' accuse The Heaven under which I live is fair The fertile soil will a full Harvest bear Thine thine is all the Barrenness if thou Mak'st me sit still and sing when I should plough When I but think how many a tedious year Our patient Soveraign did attend His long misfortunes fatal end How chearfully and how exempt from fear On the great Sovereigns will he did depend I ought to be accurs'd if I refuse To wait on his O thou fallacious Muse Kings have long hands they say and though I be So distant they may reach at length to me However of all Princes thou Shouldst not reproach Rewards for being small or slow Thou who rewardest but with popular breath And that too after death FINIS * The Star that appeared at Noon the day of the King's Birth just as the King his Father was riding to St. Pauls to give thanks to God for that Blessing