Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A01776
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Poëms, by Henry Glapthorn
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Glapthorne, Henry.
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1639
(1639)
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STC 11911; ESTC S103221
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24,348
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72
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instructions of my Muse I know dear friend you 'r so maturely wise You can see vice though cloth'd in the disguise Of vertue and 't is needlesse then to preach Doctrine to you who abler are to teach Than be instructed but my Pen does move Only by true directions of my love From which if you receive the least offence I must appeale to th' Court of Innocence From your harsh Censure since what I have said Was not to chide you Friend but to perswade VErtues reward is Honour and though you Wear no more Titles than descend as due From your brave Ancestors yet to your Blood 'T is an addition Sir to be thought good You whose demeanor bears that equall port You 've won the love not envie of the Court That can observe the forme and Laws of State Gaining mens emulation not their hate That with a noble temper can decide The diffrence 'twixt formalitie and pride That your indifferent actions are as far From b'ing too common as too singular So that with glorious freedome you direct Your Will to what it ought most to affect You in whose Nature as two Suns arise The Attributes of Bountefull and Wise. You that are Valiant as Fames eldest Child Honour yet teach even Valour to be mild You that in brief with certain judgment can Be perfect Courtier yet be perfect Man 'T is no Poetick flattry that does raise My eager Muse up to this height of Praise Big with an holy and Prophetick rage In Fames great Book I in an ample Page Wil fix the Annals of your Worth which shall When other Names are held Apocryphall In that eternall Volume be annext A faire Appendix to that glorious Text. But now Great Sir 't is time that I excuse The too audacious errours of my Muse And by my humble wishes strive to win A full remission for its daring sin May you enjoy what ever Strength and Health Can yeeld of pleasure or unbounded Wealth Can without riot purchase may you bee As free from others envie as y' are free From its desert and may you which long since You had grow great i' th' favour of your Prince May not mischance invade your souls blest peace But may it even as it consumes increase And when decrepid age shall slowly creep Over your Youth and to eternall Sleep Confine your eye-lids may you then expire Blest as a Martyr that does Court the Fire Poets are Prophets Sir and things indeed Happen when they but wish they may succeed Vpon the right Honourable RICHARD Earle of Portland late Lord High Treasurer of ENGLAND ELEGIE HOw dul's my Faith 't would pusle my belief That there could be room left on earth for grief Did not the Worlds great Genius seem to powre Its very eyes out in a plenteous showre As if it meant its moysture should create Another Deluge spight of pow'rfull Fate The Stars are mournfull grown and do conspire With unaccustom'd tears to quench their fire The Sun himselfe looks heavie and puts on In spight of Light a sad privation breath Since Noble PORTLAND's fall whose glorious Was too too precious to bee stolne by Death Grim Tyrant hold thy hand if thou ' lt imploy Thy unresisted Shafts let them destroy Only those petty subjects whom their Fate Never produc'd for Pillars of the State The Kingdome well may spare them and their losse Would rather be a blessing than a crosse There 's multitudes that only seek to bee The ends not raisers of their Familie To whom thy Darts their Patrimony spent Would be most welcome Cures of discontent Ambitious Furie 'T is thy only aime To vanquish those same true born sons of Fame That rise by noble merit such was hee To whom my Muse does pay this Elegie He who though plac'd in Honors highest seat Striv'd rather to be counted Good than Great Into whose Essence all conceiv'd that State Did its own soule even transubstantiate Such were his Counsels so supremely wise They alwaies conquerd where they did advise His Judgement too so strong and so mature What ere it promis'd seem'd to be secure Yet 't was with such a moderation mixt That as on Law so 't was on Conscience fixt All 's actions were so even they nere did force The great mans Envie nor the poor mans Curse Such was his Life so temperate and just It nere knew Malice nor commerc'd with Lust. What suddain trance surrounds me what extreme Passion confines my senses to a Dreame I feele a lazie humour slowly creep Over my Fancie charming it to sleep Or rather that entranc'd it might supply Great PORTLAND's Herse with a fit Elegie Now a Poetick furie brings mee on To mount to Fames eternall Mansion Where upon Marble Seats I did behold Those glorious Worthies so renound of old For prudent Counsels who were held the health The very life and soule o' th' Common-wealth There the mellifluous Cicero did shine Bright with the spoiles of vanquish'd Cataline And as his Motto ore his Throne there hung Arms yeeld to Arts let Swords give place to th' Tongue There Roman Fabius sate who wrought the fall By his delays of Punick Hanuibal 'Mongst other forraigne Statesmen there appears Those of our Nation who for many years Did in ambiguous Fortunes frown and smile Uphold the Fate and Glory of this Isle There that great Marshall Pembroke did sustaine The reeling Pillars of third Henries Raigne And of this our English heaven advance Himselfe the Atlas gainst invading France After a numerous Companie in his Pall And other holy Robes Fame did install Illustrious Morton that compos'd the Jarre Betwixt the House of York and Lancaster There Sackvile Cecill Egerton were plac'd On whom as I stood gazing Fame in hast Approaching did command them to prepare For PORTLAND's welcome to that Theater Of ever-living Honour and to mee Goe sing quoth shee this Worthies Elegie Straight as the Muses Priest I did obey And gan to touch my Instrument when they Leaving their Thrones with an unanimous voice Welcom'd the Sage Lord and did give him choice Which Seat he would accept but modest hee Repaid their Courtesie with Courtesie Till Fame her selfe installd him and did give His merit this Inscription which shall live As his great Name unraz'd Here PORTLAND lies That was as truely Iust as hee was Wise Cautious yet full of Councell Mild yet free From seeking idle Popularitie To Goodmen gentle to the Bad severe Lov'd Vertue for its selfe and not for Feare This Fame inscrib'd and this shall deck his Herse While there is Time or memorie of Verse On Sir Robert Ayton late Secretarie to her Majestie ELEGIE TEares are all Great mens Obsequies when they Break from the glorious prison of their Clay A thousand fluent eyes their losses mourns As if they meant to drowne them in their Urnes If then this sorrow customarie bee How many eyes should bee wept out for thee Admired Ayton every mournfull breath Lamenting thine should sigh it self to death
But oh how I undoe my selfe I now Must pull my Lawrell from my wrinkled Brow And wreath'd in deathfull Cypresse sadly call My Muse to wait upon her Funerall Light thy sick Tapers pensive Muse and come To wait her Death and thine owne Martyrdome For neverbe invok'd to write by mee When hers is writ another Elegie Now in that silent Tenement of Death The Church go sing in a soft Swan-like breath A Requiem to thy memory and there Drowne ev'ry word thou utter'st with a Teare But let them be such Tears as may expresse Not Sorrow but a joyfull Extasis And You dear Sir in whom there doth survive So much of her shee needs must rest alive In your yet bleeding memory You that know How much each tributarie-Grace did owe To her unmatch'd Perfections how that shee Was Vertues Beauties just Epitome How that her Eyes were Sphears in which did move The equall Orbs of Chastitie and Love Her Cheeks two fields of purity where grew The Rose and Lilie mixt i' th' mutuall hue Of Smiles and Blushes how each outward part Did speak the richer lustre of her Heart Her Minds intensive glory When you think Justly on this her Grave no more shall drink Your frequent Tears but fraught with noble Mirth You 'll soon devest your Soul of all that 's Earth About it say 't was justice to transferre From this dull Region such a matchlesse Starre And fix't i' th' Christall Heav'n you 'll then confesse Your constant Love to her appear'd far lesse In Griefe than Joy for sorrow spent for this Her happinesse is envie to her blisse Not charitie t' her memory yet my Verse Shall hang a lasting Hatchment on her Herse My Lawrell deck her Urne in which does lie As much as of Mortalitie could die You Sir who then best knew her perfect Life Ought to rejoyce not grieve for your dead Wife SYLVIA A FRAGMENT AS DAMON thus did ' plaine Behold a Cloud out of the foamie Maine 'Gan to arise and over-looke the Earth Scorning the Sea from whence it took its birth As dull and pond'rous still it mounts up higher With azure Wings as if it meant t' aspire Spight of commanding Natures free Consent To place 'bove Ayr the watry Element Whose vain ambition from his calid Sphear When nimble Fire the chief and supreme Peere Of Elements beheld his servent Ire Increas'd his furie adding Fire to Fire Making him hotter than the eighth degree Which is prescrib'd him by Philosophie And calling to his accident the Heat That by him sate upon a brazen Seat Which 〈◊〉 like Aetna when Typâ—â—us breath Threatens to blow up the Sicilian earth He bad him quell that over-daring Foe Who still made hast to his own overthrow Heat strait obayd and wrapping up in Smoke His horrid Flames a speedy passage took Into the fierie Regions and with force Of rayes more ardent than the Suns bright Horse When they ore-turn'd their Masters purple Carr And drownd in Po the ventrous Waggoner Drew up the willing Cloud that striv'd to flie With Icarus to its owne Tragedie Just as a Load-starre whose attracting force Does cause the Iron leave its native Course And mount to it so did Heats pow'rful might Inforce the following Cloud till it had quite Pass'd the first Kingdome and was upward gone Into the pure Ayrs middle Region Then back with speed the Heat gan homeward fare And left the Cloud to th' mercy of the Ayre Whose subtle bodie being light and drie Could not indure the Clouds moist qualitie Clouds and all heavie Meteors Rain and Snow Haile and the like are Bodies mixt that grow Out of the Earth and watry Element Which by their nature pond'rous still are bent Down to the Center but the Ayre and Fire Of more pure substance seek to force them higher Towards the Sphear that in their downfall thence They may triumph and shew their Eminence Over those dullerbodies but the natures Of these two grosse yet fully simple Creatures Will not permit ascension they attract Therefore these Meteors upwards which compact Of humid Vapours needs must seek to bow Downwards again Our Cloud then which was now Left by its hot Conductor straight was cast By the inraged Ayr with greater hast To kisse the Center than a Parthian Bow Can shoot an Arrow or a Morter throw Deathfull Granado's in its way it strook Upon the Firmament and there b'ing broke Its wat'ry substance did obscure the Plaine And gawdie Heaven with Clouds which sought again To joyn in one and fill the buxome Ayre Just as you 've seen a Painter on a faire White Table drop some little spots of Black Which running here and there at length does make One Colour in the Grownd-work or as when Two num'rous Hosts of wel-resolved men Meet in the Field and with the murd'rous Smoak Of their Death-sending Muskets strive to choak Their bloody facts from view of lightsome day The Sulphure flying many a sev'rall way At last does meer and dim the Christall Sky So did this Cloud now many by and by One Cloud agen which when the Rose-cheek'd Sun Who had but halfe his daily labour run Saw from his shining Chariot on hee speeds Driving amain his Nectar-glutted Steeds Through the dark Welkin now he 'gins to call On Pirois now on Aethon then le ts fall His angry Whip upon their sweaty backs Now pulls the Raines hard which again he slacks That they might have more free and open Course T' expell the Cloud which scorning the Suns force With pitchie mists did so obscure his light That day seem'd turn'd into Cimmerian Night Then straight the Cloud out of its watrie Store Showr'd as if godly Pyrrhus age once more Had been approaching when blew Proteus drave His flocks to see the Mountains Fishes clave Unto the Elmes before a noted seat For harmlesse Turtles All the Winds did meet In hostile opposition Auster fought With Lybs and he with Boreas who from out His rapid throat cast gusts and did display His wings as wide as when Orythia Was by him ravisht Thunder from the Skie Like to lovd musick made a Harmonie With the Winds whistling shrilnesse Seas did roare Rising in frothie Mountains that the Shore Trembled for feare lest the impetuous Waves Should passe their Limits and become the Graves To the adjoyning Meadowes And our Swaine Damon who erst in Tears began to plaine His Kala's losse now let that salt dew fall To solemnize his poor Flocks Funerall For loe big-swelling with the late-falne Raine Tyber broke ore his Banks and ran amaine Into the Meadowes where our Shepheards kept Their Woolly Charge which presently was swept Down by the greedy River as wee see A Towne beleagur'd by its Enemie When by an on-slaught 't is surpriz'd and tane Both old and young are by the Martiall Traine Of the Victorious Souldiers murdred so Dealt the inraged River to and fro It ran and bore down all the tender Lambs That then were sucking of their milkie Dams