Love To my honoured Friend and Kinsman R. St. Esquire IT shall not grieve me friend though what I write Be held no wit at Court If I delight So farre my sullen Genius as to raise It pleasure I have money wine and bayes Enough to crowne me Poet. Let those wits Who teach their Must the art of Parasies To win on easiâ— greatnesse or the yoâ—gue Spruce Lawyer who 's all impudence and tongue Sweat to divulge their fames thereby the one Gets sees the other hyre l'em best unknowne Sweet silence I embrace thee and thee Fate Which didst my birth so wisely moderate That I by want am neither vilified Nor yet by riches flatter'd into pride Resolve me friend for it must folly be Or else revenge 'gainst niggard Destinie That makes some Poets raile Why are their times So steept in gall Why so obrayde the times As if no sin call'd downe heav'ns vengeance more Then cause the world leaves some few writers poore T is true that Chapmans reverend ashes must Lye rudely mingled with the vulgar dust Cause carefull heyers the wealthy onely have To build a glorious trouble o're the grave Yet doe I not despaire some one may be So seriously devout to Poesie As to translate his reliques and finde roome In the warme Church to build him up a tombe Since Spencer hath a Stone and Draytons browes Stand petrefied i th' wall with Laurell bowes Yet girt about and nigh wise Henries herse Old Chaucer got a Marble for his verse So courteous is Death Death Poets brings So high a pompe to lodge them with their Kings Yet still they mutiny If this man please His silly Patron with Hyperboles Or most mysterious non-sence give â—is braine But the strapado in some wanton straine Hee 'le sweare the State lookes not on men of parts And if but mention'd slight all other Arts. Vaine ostentation Let us set so just A rate on knowledge that the world may trust The Poets Sentence and not still aver Each Art is to it selfe a flatterer I write to you Sir on this theame because Your soule is cleare and you observe the lawes Of Poesie so justly that I chuse Yours onely the example to my muse And till my brownes haire be mixt with gray Without a blush I le tread the sportive way My Muse directs A Poet youth may be But age doth dote without Philosophie To the World The Perfection of Love YOu who are earth and cannot rise Above your sence Boasting the envyed wealth which lyes Bright in your Mistris lips or eyes Betray a pittyed eloquence That which doth joyne our soules so light And quicke doth move That like the Eagle in his flight It doth tâ—â—nscend all humane sight Lost in the element of Love You Poets reach not this who sing The praise of dust But kneaded when by theft you bring The rose and Lilly from the Spring T' adorne the wrinckled face of lust When we speake Love nor art nor wiâ— We glosse upon Our soules engender and beget Ideas which you counterfeit In your dull progagation While Time seven ages shall disperse Wee 'le talke of Love And when our tongues hold no commerse Our thoughts shall mutually converse And yet the blood no rebell prove And though we be of severall kind Fit for offence Yet are we so by Love refin'd From impure drosse we are all mind Death could not more have conquer'd sence How suddenly those flames expire Which scorch our clay Prometâ—eas-like when we steale fire From heaven 't is endlesle and intire It may know age but not decay To the Winter WHy dost thou looke so pale decripit man Why doe thy cheeks curle like the Ocean Into such furrowes Why dost thou appeare So shaking like an ague to the yeare The Sunse is gone But yet Castara stayes And will adde stature to thy Pigmy dayes Warme moysture to thy veynes her smile can bring Thee the sweet youth and beauty of the Spring Hence with thy Pâ—lsie then and on thy head Weare flowrie chaplets as a bridegroome led To th' holy Fane Banish thy aged ruth That Virgins may admire and court thy youth And the approaching Sunne when she shall finde A Spring without him fall since uselesse blinde Upon a visit to CASTARA in the Night T' Was Night when Phoebe guided by thy rayes Chaste as my zeale with incence of her praise I humbly crept to my Castara's shrine But oh my fond mistake for there did shine A noone of beauty with such lustre crown'd As shewd mong th' impious onely night is found It was her eyes which like two Diamonds shin'd Brightest i th' dark Like which could th' Indian find But one among his rocks he would out vie In brightnesse all the Diamonds of the Skie But when her lips did opeâ— the Phoenix nest Breath'd forth her odours where might love once feast Hee 'd loath his heauenly furfets if we dare Affirme love hath a heaven without my faire To CASTARA Of the chastity of his Love WHy would you blush Castara when the name Of love you heare who never felt his flame i th' shade of melancholly night doth stray A blind Cymmerian banisht from the day Let 's chastly love Castara and not soyle This Virgin lampe by powring in the oyle Of impure thoughts O let us sympathize And onely talke i th' language of our eyes Like two starres inconjunction But beware Left th' Angels who of love compacted are Viewing how chastly burnes thy zealous fire Should soaâ—ch thee hence to joyne thee to their quire Yet take thy flight on earth for surely we So joyn'd in heaven cannot divided be The Description Of CASTARA LIke the Violet which alone Prospers in some happy shade My Castara lives unknowne To no looser eye betray'd For shee 's to her selfe untrue Who delights i th' publicke view Such is her beauty as no arts Have enricht with borrowed grace Her high birth no pride imparts For she blushes in her place Folly boasts a glorious blood She is noblest being good Cautious she knew never yet What a wanton courtship meant Not speaks loud to boast her wit In her silence eloquent Of her selfe survey she takes But 'tweene men no difference makes She obeyes with speedy will Her grave Parents wise commands And so innocent that ill She nor acts nor understands Womens feet runne still astray If once to ill they know the way She sailes by that rocke the Court Where oft honour splits her mast And retir'dnesse thinks the port Where her fame may anchor cast Vertue safely cannot sit Where vice is enthron'd for wit She holds that dayes pleasure best Where sinne waits not on delight Without maske or ball or feast Sweetly spends a winters night O're that darknesse whence is thrust Prayer and sleepe oft governs lust She her throne makes reason climbe While wild passions captive lie And each article of time Her pure thoughts to heaven flie All her vowes religious be And her love she vowes to me FINIS
warre Should blast my youth Should I not be thy feare CAST. In flesh may sickenesse horror move But heavenly zeale will be by it refin'd For then wee 'd like two Angels love VVithout a sense imbrace each others mind ARAPH VVere it not impious to repine 'Gainst rigid Fate I should direct my breath That two must be whom heaven did joyne In such a happy one disjoyn'd by death CAST. That 's no divource Then shall we see The rites in life were tipes o' th marriage state Our soules on earth contracted be But they in heaven their nuptials consumate To the Right Honourable HENRY Lord M. My Lord. MY thoughts are not so rugged nor doth earth So farre predominate in me that mirth Lookes not as lovely as when our delight First fashion'd wings to adde a nimbler flight To lazie time who would to have survai'd Our varied pleasures there have ever staid And they were harmelesse For obedience If frailty yeelds to the wild lawes of sence VVe shall but with a sugred venome meete No pleasure if not innocent as sweet And that 's your choyce who adde the title good To that of noble For although the blood Of Marshall Standley and ' La Pole doth flow VVith happy Brandon's in your veines you owe Your vertue not to them Man builds alone o th' ground of honour For desert's our ovvne Be that your ayme I 'le vvith Castara siâ— i th' shade from heat of businesse VVhile my vvit Is neither big vvith an ambitious ayme To build tall Pyramids i th' court of fame For after ages or to win conceit o th' present and grow in opinion great Rich in our selves we envy not the East Her rockes of Diamonds or her gold the West Arabia may be happy in the death Of her reviving Phaenix In the breath Of coole Favonius famous be the grove Of Tempe while we in each others love For that let us be fam'd And when of all That Nature made us two the funerall Leaves but a little dust which then as wed Even after death shall sleepe still in one bed The Bride and Bridegroome on the solemne day Shall with warme zeale approach our Vrne to pay Their vowes that heaven should blisse so farre their rites To shew them the faire paths to our delights To a Tombe TYrant o're tyrants thou who onely dost Clip the lascivious beauty without lust What horror at thy sight shâ—otes through each sence How powerfull is thy silent eloquence Which never flatters Thou instruct'st the proud That their swolne pompe is but an empty cloud Slave to each wind The faire those flowers they have I'resh in their cheeke are strewd upon a grave Thou tell'st the rich their I doll is but earth The vainely pleas'd that Syren-like their mirth Betrayes to mischiefe and that onely he Daâ—es welcome death whose aimes at vertue be Which yet more zeale doth to Castara move What checks me when the tombe perswades to love To CASTARA Vpon thought of Age and Death THe breath of time shall blast the flowry Spring Which so perfumes thy cheeke and with it bring So dâ—rke a mist as shall eclipse the light Of thy faire eyes in an eternall night Some melancholly chamber of the earth For that like Time devoures whom it gave breath Thy beauties shall entombe while all who ere Lov'd nobly offer up their serrowes there But I vvhose griefe no formall limits bound Beholding the darke caverne of that ground VVill there immure my selfe And thus I shall Thy mourner be and my ovvne funerall Else by the vveeping magicke of my verse Thou hadst reviv'd to triumph o're thy hearse To the Right Honourable the Lord P. My Lord. THe reverend man by magicke of his prayer Hath charm'd so that I and your daughter arâ— Contracted into one The holy lights Smil'd vvith a cheerefull lustre on our rites And every thing presag'd full happinesse To mutuall love if you 'le the omen blesse Nor grieve my Lord 't is perfected Before Afflicted Seas sought refuge on the shore From the angry Northvvind Ere th' astonisht Spring Heard in the ayre the feather'd people sing Ere time had motion or the Sunne obtain'd His province o're the day this vvas ordain'd Nor thinke in her I courted wealth or blood Or more uncertaine hopes for bad I stood On th' highest ground of fortune the world knowne No greatnesse but what waited on my throne And she had onely had that face and mind I with my selfe had th' earth to her resign'd In vertue there'â— an Empire And so sweete The rule is when it doth with beauty meete As fellow Consull that of heaven they Nor earth partake who would her disobey This captiv'd me And ere I question'd why I ought to love Castara through my eye This soft obedience stole into my heart Then found I love might lend to th'quick-ey'd art Of Reason yet a purer sight For he Though blind taught her these Indies first to see In whose possession I at length am blest And with my selfe at quiet here I rest As all things to my powre subdu'd To me Ther 's nought beyond this The whole woâ—ld is she His Muse speakes to him THy vowes are heard and thy Castara's name Is writ as faire i th' Register of Fame As th' ancient beauties which translated are By Poets up to heaven each there a starre And though Imperiall Tiber boast alone Ovids Corinaa and to Arâ— is knowne But Petrarchs Laura while our famous Thames Doth murmur Sydneyes Stella to her streames Yet hast thou Severâ—e left and she can bring As many quires of Swans as they to sing Thy glorious love Which living shall by thee The onely Sov'ragine of those waters be Dead in loves firmament no starre shall shine So nobly faire so purely chaste as thine To Vaine hope THou dreame of madmen ever changing gale Swâ—ll with thy wanton breath the gaudy saile Of glorious fooles Thou guid'st them who thee court To rocks to quick-sands or some faithlesse port Were I not mad who when secure at ease I might i th' Cabbin passe the raging Seas Would like a franticke shipboy wildly haste To climbe the giddy top of th' unsafe mast Ambition never to her hopes did faine A greatnesse but I really obtaine In my Castara Wer'â— not fondnesse then T' embrace the shadowes of true blisse And whenâ—â— My Paradise all flowers and fruits doth breed To rob a barren garden for a weed To CASTARA How happy though in an obscure fortune WEre we by fate throwne downe below our seare Could we be poore Or question Natures care In our provision She who doth afford A feather'd garment fit for every bird And onely voyce enough t' expresse delight She who apparels Lillies in their white As if in that she 'de teach mans duller sence Wh'are highest should be so in innocence She who in damaske doth attire the Rose And man t'himselfe a mockery to propose 'Mong whom the humblest Iudges grow to sit She who in purple cloathes
never action worth my name approve Which serv'd not thee Nor did we ere contâ—nd But who should be best pattâ—râ—e of a friend Who read thee praise thy fancie and admire Thee burning with so high and pure a fire As reaches heaven it selfe But I who know Thy soule religious to her ends where grow No siâ—nes by art or custome boldly can Stile thee more than good Poët a good man Then let thy temples shake off vulâ—ar bayes Th' hast â—uilt an Altar which enshrines â—hy praise And to the faith of after time commends Yee the best paire of lovers us of friends GEORGE TALâ—OT A Mistris IS the fairest treasure the avarice of Love can covet and the onely white at which he shootes his arrowes nor while his aime is noble can he ever hit upon repentance She is chaste for the devill enters the Idoll and gives the Oracle when wantonnesse possesseth beauty and wit maintaines it lawfull She is as faire as Nature intended her helpt perhaps to a more pleasing grace by the sweetnesse of education not by the slight of Art She is young for a woman past the delicacie of her spring may well move by vertue to respect never by beauty to affection Shee is innocent even from the knowledge of siâ—ne for vice is too strong to be wrastled with and gives her frailty the foyle She is not proude though the amorous youth interpret her modestie to that sence but in her vertue weares so much Majestie lust dares not rebell nor though masqued under the pretence of love capitulate with her She entertaines not every parley offer'd although the Articles pretended to her advantage advice and her owne feares restraine her and woman never owed ruine to too much caution She glories not in the plurality of servants a multitude of adorers heaven can onely challeng and it is impietie in her weakenesse to desire superstition from many She is deafe to the whispers of love and even on the marriage houre can breake off without the least suspition of scandall to the former liberty of her carriage She avoydes a too neere conversation with man and like the Parthian overcomes by flight Her language is not copious but apposit and she had rather suffer the reproach of being dull company than have the title of Witty with that of Bold and Wanton In her carriage she is sober and thinkes her youth expresseth life enough without the giddy motion fashion of late hath taken up She danceth to the best applause but doates not on the vanity of it nor licenceth an irregular meeting to vaunt the levity of her skill She sings but not perpetually for she knowes silence in woman is the most perswading oratory She never arriv'd to so much familiarity with man as to know the demunitive of his name and call him by it and she can show a competent favour without yeelding her hand to his gripe Shee never understood the language of a kisse but at salutation nor dares the Courtier use so much of his practised impudence as to offer the rape of it from her because chastity hath write it unlawfull and her behaviour proclaimes it unwelcome She is never sad and yet not jiggish her conscience is cleere from guilt and that secures her from sorrow She is not passionately in love with poetry because it softens the heart too much to love but she likes the harmony in the Composition and the brave examples of vertue celebrated by it she proposeth to her imitation She is not vaine in the history of her gay kindred â—r acquaintance since vertue is often tenant â—o a cottage and familiarity with greatnesse if worth be not transcendant above the title is but a glorious servitude fooles onely are willing to suffer She is not ambitious to be prais'd and yet vallues death beneath infamy And I le conclude though the next sinod of Ladies condemne this character as an heresie broacht by a Precision that onely she who hath as great a share in vertue as in beauty deserves a noble love to serve her and a free Poesie to speake her To CASTARA A Sacrifice LET the chaste Phoenix from the flowry East Bring the sweete treasure of her perfum'd nest As incense to this Altar where the name Of my Castara's grav'd by th' hand of fame Let purer Virgins to redeeme the aire From loose infection bring their zealous prayer T' assist at this great feast where they shall see What rites Love offers up to Chastity Let all the amorous Youth whose faire desire Felt never warmth but from a noble fire Bring hither their bright flâmes which here shall shine As Tapers fixt about Custara's sâ—rine While I the Priest my untam'd heart surprise And in this Temple mak 't her sacrifice To CASTARA Praying I Saw Castara pray and from the skie A winged legion of bright Angel flie To catch his vowes for feare her Vrgin prayer Might chance to mingle with impurer aire To vulgar eyes the sacred truth I write May seeme a fancie But the Eagles sight Of Saints and Pâ—ets miracles oft view Which to dull Heretikes appeare untrue Faire zeale begets such wonders O divine And purest beauty let me thee enshrine In my devoted soule and from thy praise T' enrich my garland pluck religious Bayes Shine thou the starre by which my thoughts shall move Best subject of my pen Queene of my love To Roses in the bosome of CASTARA YEE blushing Virgins happie are In the chaste Nunn'ry of her brests For hee 'd prophane so chaste a faire Who ere should call them Cupids nests Transplanted thus how bright yee grow How rich a perfume doe yee yeeld In some close garden Cowslips so Are sweeter then i th' open field In those white Cloysters live secure From the rude blasts of wanton breath Each houre more innocent and pure Till you shall wither into death Then that which living gave you roome Your glorious sepulcher shall be There wants no marble for a tombe Whose brest hath marble beene to me To CASTARA A Uow BY those chaste lamps which yeeld a silent light so the cold Vrnes of Virgins By that night Which guilty of no crime doth onely heare The Vowes of recluse Nuâ—s and th' Au'thrits prayer And by thy chaster selfe My fervent zeale Like mountaine yâ—e which the North winds congeale To purest Christall feeles no wanton fire But as the humble Pilgrim whose desire Blest in Christs cottage view by Angels hands Transported from sad Bethlem wondring stands At the great miracle So I at thee Whose beauty is the shrine of chastity Thus my bright Muse in a new orbe shall move And even teach Religion how to love To CASTARA Of his being in Love VVHere am I not in Heaven for oh I feele The Stone of Sisiphus Ixions wheele And all those tortures Poets by their wine Made judges laid on Tant â—lus are mine Nor yet am I in hell for still I stand Though giddy in my passion on firme land And still
be interr'd so neere her eye Who would feare the sword to have Such an Alabaster grave O're which two bright â—apers burne To give light to the beauteous Vine At the first Castara smil'd Thinking Cupid her beguil'd Onely coâ—nterfeiting death But when she perceiv'd his breath Quite expir'd the mournefull Girle To entoâ—be the boy in Pearle Wept so long till pittious Iove From the ashes of this Love Made ten thousand Cupids rise But confin'd them to her eyes Where they yet to shew they lacke No due sorrow still we are blacke But the blacks so glorious are Which they mouâ—ne in that the faire Quires of starres looke pale and â—â—et Seeing themselves out shin'd by jet To Fame FLy on thy swiftest wing ambitious Fame And speake to the cold North Castara's name Which very breath will like the East wind bring The temp'rate warmth and musicke of the Spring Then from the Articke to th' Antarticke Pole Haste nimbly and inspire a gentler soule By naming her â—th ' torrid South that he May milde as Zephorâ—â— coole whispers be Nor let the West where heaven already joynes The vastest Empire and the wealthiest Mines Nor th' East in pleasures wanton her condemne For not distributing her gifts on them For she with want would have her bounty meete Loves noble charity is so discreete A Dialogue betweene ARAPHILL and CASTARA ARAPH DOst not thou Castara read Am'rous volumes in my eyes Doth not every motion plead What I 'de shew and yet disguise Sences act each others part Eyes as tongues reveale the heart CAST. I saw love as lightning breake From thy eyes and was content Oft to heare thy silence speake Silent love is eloquent So the sence of learning heares The dumbe musicke of the Spheares ARAPH Then there 's mercy in your kinde Listning to an unfain'd love Or strives he to tame the wind Who would your compassion move No y' are pittious as y 're faire Heaven relents o'recome by prayer CAST. But loose man too prodigall Is in the expence of vowes And thinks to him kingdomes fall When the heart of woman bowes Frailty to your armes may yeeld Who resists you wins the field ARAPH Triumph not to see me bleede Let the Bore chaâ—ed from his den On the wounds of mankinde feede Your soft sexe should pitty men Malice well may practise Art Love hath a transparent heart CAST. Yet is love all one deceit A warme frâ—st a frozen fire She within her selfe is great Who is sâ—ave to no desire Let youth act and age advise And then love may finde his eyes ARAPH Hymens torch yeelds a dim light When ambition joynes our hands A proud day but mournefull night She sustaines who marries lands Wealth slaves man but for their Ore Th' Indians had beene free though poore CAST. And yet wealth the fuell is Which maintaines the nuptiallfire And in honour there 's a blisse Th' are immortall who aspire But truth sayes no joyes are sweete But where hearts united meete ARAPH Roses breath not such a sent To persume the neighb'ring groves As when you affirme content In no spheare of glory moves Glory narrow soules combines Noble hearts Love onely joynes To CASTARA Intending a journey into the Countrey WHy haste you hence Castara can the earth Aglorious mother in her â—lowry birth Shew Lillies like thy brow Can she disclose In emulation of thy cheeke a Rose Sweete as thy blush upon thy selfe then set Iust value and scorne it thy counterfeit The Spring 's still with thee But perhaps the field Not warm'd with thy approach wants force to yeeld Her tribute to the Plough O rather let Th' ingratefull earth for ever be in debt To th' hope of sweating industry than we Should starve with cold who have no heat but thee Nor feare the publike good Thy eyes can give A life to all who can deserve to live Vpon CASTARA'S departure I Am engag'd to sorrow and my heart Feeles a distracted rage Though you depart And leave me to my feares let love in spite Of absence our divided soules unite But you must goe The melancholy Doves Draw Venus chariot hence The sportive Loves Which wont to wanton here hence with you flye And like false friends forsake me when I dye For but a walking tombe what can he be Whose best of life is forc't to part with thee To CASTARA Vpon a trembling kisse at departure TH' Arabian wind whose breathing gently blows Purple to th' Violet blushes to the Rose Did never yeeld â—n odour rich as this Why are you then so thrifty of a kisse Authoriz'd even by custome Why doth feare So tremble on your lip my lip being neare Thinke you I parting with so sad a zeale Will act so blacke a mischiefe as to steale Thy Roses thence And they by this device Transplanted somewhere else force Paradice Or else you feare lest you should my heart skip Vp to my mouth t' incounter with your lip Might rob me of it and be judg'd in this T' have Iudas like betraid me with a kisse In CASTARA Looking backe at her departing LOoke backe Castara From thy eye Let yet more flaming arrowes flye To live is thus to burne and dye For what might glorious hope desire But that thy selfe as I expire Should bring both death and funerall fire Distracted Love shall grieve to see Such zeale in death For feare lest he Himselfe should be consum'd in me And gathering up my ashes weepe That in his teares he then may steepe And thus embâlm'd as reliques keepe Thitheâ— let lovers pilgrims turne And the loose flames in which they burne Give up aâ— offâ—rings to my Vrne That them the vertue of my shrine By miracle so long refine Till they prove innocent as mine Vpon CASTARA'S absence T' Is madnesse to give Physicke to the dead Then leave me friends Yet haply you 'd here read A lecture but I 'le not dissected be T' instruct your Art by my anatomie But still you trust your sense sweare you discry No difference in me All 's deceit o th' eye Some spirit hath a body fram'd in th' ayâ—e Like mine which he doth to delude you weare Else heaven by miracle makes me survive My selfe to keepe in me poore Love alive But I am dead yet lâ—t none question where My best part rests and with a sigh or teare Prophane â—he Pompe when they my corps interre My soule imparâ—dis'd for 't is with her To CASTARA Complaining her absence in the Country THe lesser people of the ayre conspire To keepe thee from me Philomel with higher And sweeter noteâ— wooes thee to weepe her rape Which would appease the gods change her shape The early Larke preferring 'fore soft rest Oâ—sequious duty leaves his downy nest And doth to thee harmoniâ—us tribute pay Expecting from thy eyes the breake of day From which the Owle is frighted and doth rove As never having felt the warmth of love In uncouth vaults and the chill shades of night Not biding the bright lustre
kisse your hands and take my leave To the Right Honourable Archibald Earle of Ar. IF your example be obey'd The serious few will live i th' silent shade And not indanger by the wind Or Sunshine the complexion of their mind Whose beauty weares so cleare a skin That it decayes with the least taint of sin Vice growes by custome nor dare we Reject it as a slave where it breaths free And is no priviledge denyed Nor if advanc'd to higher place envyed Wherefore your Lordship in your selfe Not lancht faâ—re in the maine nor nigh the shelfe Of humbler fortune lives at â—ase Safe from the rocks oth'shore and stormes oth'Seaâ— Your soule 's a well built City where There 's such munition that no war breeds feare No rebels wilde destractions move For you the heads have crusht Rage Envy Love And therefore you defiance bid To open enmity or mischiefe hid In fawning hate and supple pride Who are on every corner fortifide Your youth not rudely led by rage Of blood is now the story of your age Which without boast you may averre 'Fore blackest danger glory did prefer Glory not purchast by the breath Of Sycophants but by encountring death Yet wildnesse nor the feare of lawes Did make you fight but justice of the cause For but mad prodigals they are Of fortitude who for it selfe love warre When well made peace had clos'd the eyes Of discord sloath did not your youth surprize Your life as well as powre did awe The bad and to the good was the best law when most men vertue did pursue In hope by it to grow in fame like you Nor when you did to court repaire Did you your manners alter with the ayre You did your modesty retaine Your faithfull dealing the same tongue and braine Nor did all the soft flattery there Inchant you so but still you truth could heare And though your roofes were richly guilt The basis was on no wards ruine built Nor were your vassals made a prey And forâ—'t to curse the Coronation day And though no bravery was knowne To out-shine yours you onely spent your owne For 't was the indulgence of fate To give y' a moderate minde and bounteous state But I my Lord who have no friend Of fortune must begin where you doe end 'T is dang'rous to approach the fire Of action nor is 't safe farre to retire Yet better lost i th' multitude Of private men then on the state t' intrude And hazard for a doubtfull smile My stocke of fame and inward peace to spoile I le therefore nigh some murm'ring brooke That wantons through my meddowes with a booke With my Castara or some friend My youth not guilty of ambition spend To my owne shade if fate permit I le whisper some soft musique of my wit And flatter so my selfe I le see By that strange motion steale into the tree But still my first and chiefest care Shall be t'appâ—ase offended heaven with prayer And in such mold my thoughts to cast That each day shall be spent as 't were my last How ere it's sweete lust to obey Vertue though rugged is the safest way An Elegy upon The Honourable Henry Cambell sonne to to the Earle of Ar. IT s false Arithmaticke to say thy breath Expir'd to soone or irreligious death Prophan'd thy holy youth For if thy yeares Be number'd by thy vertues or our teares Thou didst the old Methusalem out-live Though Time but twenty yeares account can give Of thy abode on earth yet every houre Of thy brave youth by vertues wondrous poâ—â—re Was lengthen'd to a yeare Each well-spent day Keepes young the body but the soule makes gray Such miracles workes goodnesse and behind Th' ast left to us such stories of thy minde Fit for example that when them we read We envy earth the treasure of the dead Why doe the sinfull riot and survive The feavers of their surfets Why alive Is yet disorder'd greatnesse and all they Who the loose lawes of their wilde blood obey Why lives the gamester who doth blacke the night With cheats and imprecations Why is light Looked on by those whose breath may poyson it Who sold the vigor of their strength and wit To buy diseases and thou who faire truth And vertue didst adore lost in thy youth But I le not question fate Heaven doth conveigh Those first from the darke prison of their clay Who are most fit for heaven Thou in warre Hadst tane degrees those dangers felt which are The props on which peace safely doth subsist And through the Cannons blew and horrid mist Hadst brought her light And now wert so compleat That naught but death did want to make thee great Thy death was timely then bright soule to thee And in thy fate thou suffer'dst not 'T was we Who dyed rob'd of thy life in whose increase Of reall glory both in warre and peace We all did share and thou away we feare Didst with thee the whole stocke of honour beare Each then be his owne mourner Wee 'le to thee Write hymnes upon the world an Elegie To CASTARA WHy should we feare to melt away in death May we but dye together When beneath In a coole vault we sleepe the world will prove Religious and call it the shrine of Love There when o th' wedding eve some beautious maid Suspitious of the faith of man hath paid The tribute of her vowes o th' sudden shee Two violets sprouting from the tombe will see And cry out ye sweet emblems of their zeale Who live below sprang ye up to reveale The story of our future joyes how we The faithfull patterns of their love shall be If not hang downe yours heads opprest with dew And I will weepe and wither hence with you To CASTARA Of what we were before our creation WHen Pelion wondring saw that raine which fell But now from angry Heaven to Heaven ward swell When th' Indian Ocean did the wanton play Mingling its billowes with the Balticke sea And the whole earth was water O where then Were we Castara In the fate of men Lost underneath the waves Or to beguile Heaven's justice lurkt we in Noahs floating Isle We had no being then This fleshly frame Wed to a soule long after hither came A stranger to it selfe Those moneths that were But the last age no newes of us did heare What pompe is then in us Who th' other day Were nothing and in triumph now but clay To the Moment last past O Whither dost thou flye Cannot my vow Intreat thee tarry Thou wert here but now And thou art gone like ships which plough the Sea And leave no print for man to tracke their way O unseene wealth who thee did husband can Out-vie the jewels of the Ocean The mines of th' earth One sigh well spent in thee Had beene a purchase for eternity We will not loose thee then Castara where Shall we finde out his hidden sepulcher And wee 'le revive him Not the cruell stealth Of