cause her feet are now Iambick made Refrigerium NOw through each vein my blood doth run Hot as the Summers scorching Sun Whilst on what side so è'r I turn With double frying flames I burn To cool both Aelna's first I 'l have An Arbour coole as is the grave And with green shadie branches wove As covert as Dodona's grove So that the Sun may not appear At all in this close Hemisphere With Curran-bushes I 'l hav 't made Vail'd o'r with Sycamores coole shade And mixt with Rasps and Cherrytrees Whose choice fruit may my pallat please I' th' midst of which next shal be spread Upon a large and spacious stead A frost-upon-green tabbie Quilt Water'd as if 't had there bin spilt Strew'd o'r with Roses where I may Naked my lazie limbs display And underneath't a Christal stream Of fresh Rose-water still'd from them Through th' limbeck of my body that My smelling Sense may recreate A marble Fountain next I 'l have Close by in a large hollow cave Springing with Nilus seav'nfold streams Til they all meet in one fair Thames Washing in whose pure waters we Diana and her Nymphs may see With other lively Pictures that My Seeing sense may recreate Next I wil have Arion play Upon a Dolphins back whose lay Shal teach each bird to chirp and trie How to excel his harmonie Orpheus his harp Apollo's lyre Shal with the Syrens fill the Quire With other sorts of Musick that My hearing Sense may recreate A Mirmaid next I 'l have in stead o th' Barber for to kemb my head All the four Winds too shal conspire With gentle breize to coole my fire Till I being fann'd with Ladies love Then their cold Sex shall colder prove Last because nought cools better then A Maid who warms and cooles agen I 'l have a young plump amorous Queen Ripe though she be not yet fifteen 'Twixt whose close arms and snowie breast I may diffuse my heat and rest Then bath my self in kisses that My Feeling Sense may recreate Thus when at once I all my Senses please Me thinks I feel my self in Paradise ELEGIES By Robert Heath Esquire LONDON Printed for HUMPHRY MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Shop at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. Elegies On the Death of the young and pious Ladie Mrs C. P. SO yong and ripe in judgement fit for heaven A Saint shee was on earth before eleven What Virtue was there lodg'd in this smal world Whose soul grew faster then the body could Sins shee had none but what curst Nature gave Yet e'r she knew 't shee long'd this world to leave Where but new enter'd she with pious rage Her Prologue spoke doth bravely quit the stage Oh happy growth that in so short a time This early blossome thus to heav'n could climb Epicedium On the beautiful Lady Mrs A. K. unfortunately drowned by chance in the Thames in passing the Bridge DRown'd and i' th' Thames oh how I grieve to see Such fair streams act so foul a Tragedie Not all thy main which twice a day doth flow Can wash this guilt from off thy conscious brow Like the dead sea thou look'st whilst every wave Thou wear'st now seems to be another grave Forgetful Lethe or the Stygian Lake As thou foul Tyber looks not halfe so black How horrid thou appear'st and thou dost tast Sowre and not half so pleasant as thou wast Rome now wil fear to drink thee since thou 'rt dyde With such chast guiltlesse blood and none wil ride More on thy ruder waves thy crueltie Since 't would not spare so fair a Saint as shee How I could flow with anger chide thee too But thou art innocent as pure I know 'Las 't was her Fate unhappy Destinie Thus to thy streams to adde more puritie Thou 'rt become white agen an Element Fit to receive a soul so innocent Whose body buried in thy Christal tomb Transparent lies scorning earths baser womb Gilt Tagus banks nor the Pectalian Can boast such Golden treasures as you can Thou didst but lend her to the Earth awhile Thou hast thy Pearl again now Thamis smile 'T is fit such gems should by the makers hands Shine thus transplanted to their native sands On the Death of the excellent fair Lady the Lady A. R. HOw blindly erting were those Painters that Did without eies grim Death delineate Did he not ayming shoot and shooting hit 'Midst the Arcadian Nymphs this fairest white This whitest Venus Dove without his light How had he found this mark or shot so right Thus as he aiming stood and in his heart Relenting doubted whether his fel dart He should or spare or send so long he gaz'd Upon her Beauties splendour all amaz'd That the bright raies she darted did so shine And dazle the beholding Archers eyne That whilst he trembling shot and made her light Extinct the beams of that put out his sight And so e'r since Death hath been blind indeed On her fair Tomb this Epitaph shal be read Beautie here on Death reveng'd Triumphant lies Whose Glories won all hearts put out all eies On the losse of Mr N. W. his three finggers cut off at the battel of Edgehil he being both a Poet and a Musitian BY some it hath been said That the best Musick is by discord made But here I grieve to see By discords we have lost our harmonie How cruel was that hand Depriv'd thee of thy cunning fingers and At one unhappy blow Cut off an Orpheus and a Poet too How sadly the strings rest E'r since those fingers which before exprest On them such lively art Were thus dissected from their constant part Yet though these joynts be gone To quiet ease two fingers stil are on Which with dexteritie Can write the Epitaph o' th' t'other three And though you cannot play Yet stil both sing and versifie you may Naenia Upon the death of my dear friend T. S. Esquire slain at the first fight at Newbery 1645. PAle Ghost I weep not 'cause thy precious blood Honour'd when spilt a cause so just so good Nor grieve I 'cause so much that suffer'd too I' th' losse of such a Champion as you This makes my heart afresh with thy wounds bleed A Loyal Subject and my friend is dead One whose unborrow'd native Wit proclaim'd Him sole Apollo's heire whose Vertues fam'd Him with Pandora's gifts endow'd whose parts Did stile him Master of all noble Arts One whose Youths sprightful valour did encline To acts Heroick without help of wine One who prefer'd the cause he had in hand Above his life before his fathers land One that was forward yet not desp'rate bold A coward in ill acts yet durst behold Death in his uglyest vizar This was Hee Who lov'd his friend and feard no Enemie Who nobly thus did seek an early grave Because he scorn'd to live a subjects slave Wide was the Orifice sure of thy large wound Els had thy great and gallant soul ne'r
borrows flames from your celestial eie To Clarastella upon a favour received from her which she tied in my hat MAdam the favour I received from you I have it in such high esteem That men might justly deem Me proud of it 'cause to the open view I wear it alwaies in my hat There to be wondred at Ruling in chief there in bright Majestie It doth command all caps to vail And say to it all hail As if they spi'd in that some Deitie The colours they are so divine And with such raies do shine As forreign ships yield homage whey they see Great Britains streamers spread on high And purpling all the skie So when these Rosie royal colours be Displaid then each Spectatour knows That they are yours and bows Juno's gay bird boasts not so brave a plume Nor in its greatest pride doth shine Like this fair flow'r of thine Me thinks I look like Memnon could assume A generals place and overthrow Englands resisting foe A Hector fit for Mars or Venus war Under these colours I could fight Me thinks both day and night Attempt bold deeds kil those my rivals are And through revenge on each black tongue That shal thy honour wrong Wonder not at this valour for I know Under your favour I would conquer you Clarastella's Indictment MY heart was slain when none was by But only you and I Durst it self do this act No a strange hand did shoot that dart Which peirc'd so deep my heart Nor could I do the fact Then I 'm o' th' fact acquitted now The guilt must lie on you I wil enquire no further The proof is plain the Boy that lies Hid in your cruel eies Did do this wicked murther Witness your lips all staind with red They speak who did the deed The Crimson bloud sticks there And makes them at each blush confess For they dare do no less And ory we guiltie are Your pale and self-accusing look As soon as ere he strook Proclam'd you accessorie And your distorted angry brow Your ful assent did show To make my death a Storie In your hearts trembling doth appear Your more than guilty fear You 'r by your tongue bewraid Which silently accusing tels That 't was by you none els My heart was first betraid By signs thus murther 's oft reveal'd Though it lie long conceal'd This doom I wish you then If stil a cruel mind you bear May each man prove when ere You love unkind agen On the loss of a Gold-open-ring in which some of Clarastella's hair was enclosed DEar Gold not in thy own self precious now But for that more intrinsic value thou Enclosest which rich treasure makes thee more Refin'd and hallow'd than thou wast before Though had that finger dropt thou once didst grace I had susteind that fatal loss with less Regret Farwel Yet thou dear Relique that Li'st here entombd and buried in this vaut Of Indian clay which now thy corps must hold Thou didst deserve a richer urn than gold May then that happy he shal find thee kiss And then adore this unknown Shrine of bliss Whose worth since he can never know but fear Some magick spels within and so not dare To wear thee thus afflicted may he bring It back to me and I 'l uncharm the Ring But thee in vain on earth I hope to see I le search the Heavens for there thou next wilt be And whereas Berenices hair was cut And at the Lyons seavn-stard tail was put Thy hair shal shine yet higher in his head And 's neck shal with this Ring be collared To Clarastella saying she would commit her selfe to a Nunnerie STay Clarastella prithee stay Recal those frantick vows again Wilt thou thus cast thy self away As wel as me in fond disdain Wilt thou be cruel to thy self chastise Thy harmless body 'cause your pow'rful eies Have charm'd my senses by a strange surprise Is it a sin to be belov'd If but the cause you could remove Soon the effect wou'd be remov'd Where Beautie is there wil be love Nature that wisely nothing made in vain Did make you lovely to be lov'd again And when such beauty tempts can love refrain When Heav'n was prodigal to you And you with beauties glory stor'd He made you like himself for view To be beheld and then ador'd Why should the Gold then fear to see that Sun That form'd it pure why should you live a Nun And hide those raies Heav'n gave to you alone Oh do not exile Natures bliss Do not Eclipse so great a Sun Imprison not a Paradise In a Religious dungeon Let the foul witch laze in her smokie cel Onely black toads in recluse vaults do dwel Fair Angels live in light the foul in Hel I know 't was you fair thief that stole My heart away nor thus content Your cruel eies then pickt a hole In that which ne'r before was rent And dost thou now this heart hence think to carrie Or being guilty darst no longer tarry And so to shreive thee fly'st to Sanctuarie Nor is this all your theft was higher Than was Prometheus who did take From Heav'n that quick inspiring fire Of clods us living men to make You to Heav'ns treasurie did find a way Where all the Beauties and the Virtues lay And thence by rapine didst them all convey Guiltie of which high sacrilege Dost thou now mean to satisfie The Gods and give thy body pledge To expi'ate thy souls theeverie Stay Votresse enter not this Nunnerie For thus thou wilt but draw more guilt on thee By tempting others to Idolatrie For when thy Glory they shal see Either they 'l all forget to pray Or what 's as bad they 'l pray to thee And turn devotion to play Nor wil the Gods unto thy prai'rs incline If thou shouldst stil continue deaf to mine Stay then fair Saint and make my bed thy shrine Thy self a holy Temple art Where Love shal teach us both to pray I 'l make an Altar of my heart And Incense on thy lips wil lay Thy mouth shal be my Oracle and then For beads we 'l tel our kisses o'r agen Til they breath'd from our souls shal cry Amen The Quaere What is Love 'T Is a child of Phansies getting Brought up between Hope and Fear Fed with smiles grown by uniting Strong and so kept by Desire 'T is a perpetual Vostal fire Never dying Whose smoak like Incense doth aspire Upwards flying It is a soft Magnetick stone Attracting hearts by sympathie Binding up close two souls in one Both discoursing secretlie 'T is the true Gordian knot that ties Yet ne'r unbinds Fixing thus two Lovers eies Aswel as minds 'T is the spheres heavenly harmonie Where two skilful hands do strike And every sound expressively Marries sweetly with the like 'T is the worlds everlasting chain That all things ti'd And bid them like the fixed wain Unmov'd to bide 'T is Natures law inviolate Confirm'd by mutual consent Where two dislike like love and hate Each to the
store Send it oh send it to my Love Wing'd with the feathers of thy Mothers Dove Or head it with the same desire Thou didst my shaft enspire Or take thine arrow back from me 'T is crueltie Sometimes not to be cruel Oh! Or smite both hearts or els unbend thy bow To a Lady wearing a Looking-glass at her girdle GAze not on that fair Mirrour where you see Nought but the shadow of your frailtie lie VVhere beautie staies no longer then you look On the gilt outside of that rotten look Your self where all 's but dust without and such Foul leaves within why then admir'd so much Since nothing can be lov'd but what hath been Known to the sence or to the eie bin seen VVhy should you doat upon that face which you Never yet saw nor have the pow'r to do VVhose very shape when you have often pri'd And re-examin'd every part and spi'd VVith strictest eie each line and symmetrie Is clean forgot when you remove your eie Which usual instance may instruct you not To studie that which is so soon forgot Since you nor see your self nor look upon That form but thus by meer reflection How know you or why think you are fair Is it 'cause fond admirers say you are For want of judgement or some flattring Asse Or this a great deal more dissembling glasse Tels a fair storie to your cred'lous eie VVil you believe such Romance historie VVhen the spruce gallant courts your hand and vows Saluting it he nothing whiter knows Then gazing upward on that heav'nly sphere Swears you are Angel-like beyond compare Excelling all your sex can you conceive That to be true which he did least believe VVhen th' am'rous youth looks Babies in your eies And through Loves flatt'ring optick he espies At the wrong end a world of beautie there Blinded with passion thus 'twixt hope and fear VVhen he protests he thinks he sees in you Some God-like form can you believe it too VVhen knowing men dissemble truth alas VVil you then trust a dumb deceitful glass Embrace your selfe and like Narcissus pore Upon that Christal til you start a flow'r VVhich fades as soon as blown admiring more That part your selfe then others all the store Then quit that coz'ning beam nor imitate The Mermaid to be onely upwards neat VVith comb and glass in hand when we all know You'ar either fish or what is worse below The blanched Swan with whitest plumes arrai'd Til by her own black skin and legs betraid Did think her self the fairest bird do you But look about you you 'l appear so too VVhat boots a comly presence graceful eie If all be foul except the Phisnomie Wise men admire not beauty birth or blood How rich or fair they ask not but how good First dresse your soul see that be fair and clear And then you 'l truly beautiful appear To Clarastella 'T Is not your beautie I admire Nor the bright star-light of each eie Nor do I from their beams take fire My loves torch to enlighten I No 't is a Glorie more divine Kindles my tapour at your shrine Your comly presence takes not me Nor your much more inviting meen Nor your sweet looks the Graces be Fair Creature in your picture seen No 't is your soul to which I bow 'T is none of these I love but you How blind is that Philosophie Doth onely nat'ral bodies know That views each Orb o' th' glorious skie But sees not him that made it so I love thy informing part i' th' whol And every part thy all thy soul The Farewel to Clarastella PAssion o' me why melt I thus with griefe For her whose frozen heart denies reliefe Find out some other way to punish me Yee Gods and let me not the Author be Of mine own death make me forget that e'r I lov'd at least that e'r I loved her Yet I must love her stil O cruel Fate That dost true love so il requite with hate Why e'r I saw her didst not make me blind Then had she as before continued kind Without pow'r to displease her Charitie Warm as my Love and I had stil been I But now alas my distant bliss I see Which like my courted shadow flieth mee As fast as I pursue ay mee she 's gone And with her all my winged hopes are flown But oh if you one drop of mercy have Let me request you shed it at my grave When y'hear I died for you Oh let there be One tear at least shed from your pious eies In mem'ry that I fel your sacrifice Where though I cannot yet my marble wil Gainst these soft show'rs for me some tears distil Fairest farewel and by my living love Maist thou to me when dead thus loving prove Shed from your eies perhaps one faithful tear May make my ashes quick again how e'r My shipwrackt love in these drops bath'd at last May drowning grasp what 's next and hold thee fast Which whilst I liv'd it could not thus I wil Alive and dead my Stella love thee stil On the Report of Clarastella's death SHee dead forgive me Heav'n I' ad almost swore That she 'bout her had nothing mortal wore Her soul 's immortal and her body too Since 't knew no actual sin must needs be so Our sins do drag us to our graves but she Had no such harbingers her Pietie Made her a Monarch in Divinitie And taught her how to live eternally It is not likely guilty death shou'd take Such Innocence away from us or make Immortal Virtue die old Adam sure Had liv'd til now could he have liv'd as pure And free from either act or thought of vice Hee had surviv'd this age in Paradice Our sins are our diseases onely they Invoke pale death whom we all must obey When he arrests us for these debts we know Life 's the cheap ransome for the sums we owe VVhich she ne'r forfeited 'cause no disease Upon her body or her soul could seize She was so sound and perfect why should I Believe that Clarastella then could die If wantonnesse durst steal into her mind 'Midst her sweet dreams leaving a touch behind Of phansied pleasure yet she wakt a maid And blushing that she should be thus betrai'd By her own guiltlesse thoughts she feard to tel Ev'n what her visions were nor knew she wel What was their pleasant meaning or if shee Did but by chance two Lovers kissing see Shee thought they did but imitate the Dove Thus to affect with chast Platonick love Her salutations deckt with modestie Did like her smiles expresse humilitie Thus was she perfect Virgin whilst her love Knew n'other object but the Gods above How then durst death tow'rds her his dart advance Whose onely sin was harmless ignorance Why should I fondly drooping let mine eies Yeild at the news a liquid sacrifice Or let her dying rumour wound my years Whose virtue did deserve a Nestors years I 'l not believe then she is dead since I Know she hath merited
Eternitie For were 't as envious Fame reports her gone 'T were but a happy transmigration To Heav'n where stil she lives a Saint and we Do stil adore her living Deitie To a Painter limning a Curtezan LEave off fond Artist can't your wanton eie Glance on a pleasant face but presently You must go court her with your pencil and Thus spoil th' invention of a witty hand What need you paint her when the wicked Elfe Fearing no colours daily paints her self What mean those naked dresses silks and lawn When shee 's much fitter to be hang'd then drawn Wouldst thou expresse thy art and judgement say Wouldst thou be fam'd I 'l tel you thus you may Paint me to life a chast and virtuous Dame Whose spotless honour speaks her stil the same In whose smooth forehead let there be exprest What Virgin thoughts she harbours in her breast Set forth her severall Graces and her eie Make to betray a cheerful modestie Her sober looks and her aspect is free Let them both innocent and simple be Then in her cheeks express that blushing grace Which Vestal vows have printed in her face Then let thy Phansie through her purer skin Transparent make her chaster soul within When you have drawn this piece then Painter see You not expose it to each common eie That cannot judge to Lovers onely those And not to lustful eies this piece expose On the young and fair Mrs M. H. her hair being unfortunately burnt by chance in the candle as she was Combing her head at night UNluckie Traitour could thy greedy flame Feed on such fuel and not devoure the same How durst thy dul pale flames so high aspire And mix its lazie heat with Vestal fire Oh how I grieve this direful chance to see These fresh leaves falling from the blooming tree And that the spring which was but now begun Should thus o' th' sudden into Autumne run Ah cruel Atropos why so soon would you Thus rudely cut those threads of life in two Those neat dishevel'd locks whose every grace Scorning arts help set forth a neater face With what pale horrour do I wondring see This sight and fear what the event will be Methinks it now portends some overthrow Threatens some great mans ruine and doth show Like lightning 'fore the thunder bidding all Be arm'd against the stroak or now I call To mind fair Helen Troy did so admire Me thinks it represents that town on fire Had this but Lillie seen he would have said It was some blazing Comet and that head Which was thus crisped o'r with purest raies Was all a heav'nly Meteor that did blaze Her Virtues forth to the worlds open eie As Emblem of her rare divinitie Or had mistook thee in this borrow'd light For brightest Phoebe Mistresse of the night By those bright Star-like tapours of thine eies Oh may another lovely Phoenix rise From these sweet ashes whose sad fun'ral pile With fragrant odours thus perfumes our Isle But thou curst light that wroughtst this Tragedie In thy own flames maist thou a martyr die Writ on Clarastella's Busk MIght I o' nights in thy room lie 'Twixt Stella's warmer mounts of snow So neer her heart dissolving I No higher Paradise would know Such envi'd bliss would make me stray VVhither the Gods themselves would bow And leave heav'ns upper milkie way To breath in happier shades below Deploring Clarastella's Inconstancie FAir and yet cruel strange me thinks that art Should act amiss where Nature plai's her part Can you a gentle Saint a Tyrant prove Can your diviner soul forget to love Can Winter set in such a love-warm brest Which was with so much heat but now possest Are the flames dying and loves active fires Congeal'd to frosts and freez'd to cold desires And those fair Violet veins the verdant Spring Did so enliven now no heat can bring Can you that carried Summer in your lips Red as the Cherrie suffer an Eclipse That in the Apples of your cheeks did wear A fertile Autumn now no fruit can bear All heat extinguisht not one spark of fire Now left but to inkindle new desire Strange mixture this when I at once may view All the four seasons of the year in you Some health for pitty to my hopes restore Or love me not at all or love me more Under this Equinox my shadows are Quite round me whilst I live in black despair Frigid nor torrid zones can I endure They bred cold Agues these a Calenture Loves Haesitation To Clarastella WHy should I love that thing Can no affection bring Since reason doth from liking draw Reciproque friendship shall I thaw When her love freezeth tel me why When she disdaineth should not I Yet Loves Religion Bids me love though she frown By whose more sacred lawes Heav'n knowes We are enjoyn'd to love our foes Though she reject me then yet I Must love my Stella til I die Love I your pow'rs obey True love can ne'r decay And since that Virtue lives in you Which made me like and love you too At first I am oblieg'd and I Must love thee to Eternitie To Clarastella admiring her black Eies and Hair LEt others Court the Cyprian Queen Gilt tresses or the Amber skin Give me black eies and hair Presum'd the face be fair And a Seraphick soul within The Swan though black below above Is the white object of our love So is Juno's prouder bird For her black eies admir'd And 'cause they are so I yours approve Apelles limning a faire maid Let fall by chance his pen and said That though he meant it not Yet could not mend the blot It did expresse so rare a shade If shadowes best set forth a face Adorning it with beauties grace Then are you onely fair Whose form beyond compare Excels the birth of humane race In your bright eies decipher'd are The Ev'ning and same morning star Sole Glorie of the Night Deckt with such raies of light No day can boast so rich by far The Lovers Torch doth burn most bright Like Comets in the darkest night And the black Boy stil roves In sap and shadie groves And like you crowns Loves sweet delight To Clarastella complaining of my long kisses MAdam I vow I never knew One creature of your sex till you Find fault with what was long in men Oh do not geld my Phansie then Nor blame my pleasures extasie That when each sense is feasted I Thus tast each pure Ambrosiack kisse And by degrees melt down my blisse Oh those smooth soft and Rubie lips That fright the Sun to an Eclipse Whose Rosie and Virmilion hue Betray the blushing thoughts in you Whose fragrant Amoratick breath Wou'd revive dying Saints from death Whose Syren-like harmonious air Speaks musick and enchants the ear VVho would not hang and fixed there VVish he might know no other sphere Oh for a charm to make the Sun Drunk and forget his motion Oh that some palsie or lame gout Would cramp old times diseased foot Or that I
might or moult or clip His speedy wings whilst on her lip I quench my thirsty appetite With the life honey dwels on it Oh for a Crane-like neck that may This Nectar slowly thence convey Then on this holy Altar I Would sacrifice eternally Offring one long continued mine Of Golden pleasures to thy shrine I mean not Pompeys biting kiss Flora did so commend nor his Venerious sip Catullus us'd Where lip-salve was from each infus'd No a more holy chast impresse May th' image of each mind expresse As perfect as the wax the seal Such kisses do not wound but heal Kissing thou sacred kissing art Onely the intellective part Of pleasure by which union Our souls discourse and meet in one Fixt Center whilst in a ful kiss Each am'rous line concentred is Nor doth it violate Chastitie Or forfeit like Adulterie The dowry now as heretofore When but to speak or see was more Immodest deem'd at least as much A Woman as 't is now to touch Thus with chast lips we blow Loves fire To a live coal thus fan it higher Thus do we seal affections band VVhich onely death can cancel and VVhilst both our hearts and lips do meet Thus do our souls each other greet Thus we engender speaking Love Peculiar only to the Dove Whereas all other bodies heat Of Lust doth them incorporate But only in the act yet we Thus renew love t' eternitie With fresh unsated appetite And without shame or sad regret Which true experience doth prove The difference betwixt Lust an Love Then let us kiss like Turtles close Until we both seem one til those That see our hearts saluting thus Shal not disturb but envy us Coyness in women makes men more Suspect they 'l do behind the door If thus you think I kiss too much Know that my love to you is such That whensoe'r it pleaseth you I 'l closer kiss drink deeper too To Clarastella Why Lovers walk round 'T Is oft observ'd that those who are in love Do when they walk in spherick circle move A motion to its nature genuine So move the Heav'ns and Love that is divine And heav'n-deduced draws like that his gest A round because that figure is the best Love is a Labyrinth wherein wandring men Tread the same pensive measur's o'r agen The Soul her feet th' affection guides and moves To the same object that she truly Loves Thus when I walk so often round I move To thee the Center Nature bids me love A Pastoral Protest of Love by Damon to Stella WHen I thee all o'r do view I all o'r must love thee too By that smooth forehead wher 's exprest The candour of thy peaceful breast By those fair twin-like-stars that shine And by those apples of thine eyn By the Lambkins and the Kids Playing 'bout thy fair eie-lids By each peachie blossom'd cheek And thy Sattin skin more sleek And white then Flora's whitest Lillies Or the maiden Daffadillies By that Ivorie porch thy nose By those double blanched rows Of teeth as in pure Coral set By each azure rivolet Running in thy temples and Those flowrie meadows 'twixt them stand By each Pearl-tipt ear by Nature as On each a Jewel pendant was By those lips all dew'd with bliss Made happy in each others kiss By those pure Vermilion cherries Thy red nipples and those strawberries Swimming there as set in cream By those two curld locks that seem To wreath thy Lover in wav'd art That from thee he ne'r should part By those silk tresses soft as down Of tender Eunuches newly blown That vail your body round when e'r In your own shades you 'd less appear By that silver stately neck Doth thy gems more grace and deck Then they can it by those two Soft and wool-warme mounts of snow By each Alablaster hand And those slender joynts that stand So streight and closely set each palm Seems a young tree distilling balm Midst that pregnant Hemisphear By the fair knot that 's planted there By those moving columns bear This Globe and the lov'd frame uprear By those pretty nimble feet Wont in skilful measures meet By the neat fabrick of the whole Fair as the world from either Pole Whose each part is Paradise And Heav'n both in and round it is By thy self when thee I view I love thy all and each part too Occasional POEMS By Robert Heath Esquire Majores majora sonent mihi parva locute Sufficit in vestras saeperedire manus Mart. li 9. Ep. 1. LONDON Printed for HUMPHRY MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Shop at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. Occasional Poems To an old Gentlewoman that would have her Picture drawn WHat strange impossibles are those That one fam'd Myron you impose Drawn to the life you 'd be you say When you are dying every day In colours too when there 's but one All o'r your face and that is dun Hee l draw 't is like thy shadows true For thou art all but shadow'd blue If fair then thou wu'dst counted be His pigments let him lay on thee And with a trowel dawb and sleek The wroughcast of each wrinkled cheek Else but in vain he shal on you Spend both his oyl and labour too Drawn with black lead or with a coal Over some Alehouse chimney wal Thy picture best wil semble thee By some rough Dialler when he Shal underwrite in meeter this The widow of Sarepta is Or 't wil shew best through lattice-work Here an old woman there the Turk Yet if thou needs must have it done Let me say this in caution Unto thy Painter that he plie And speed his work or thou wilt die Before the third dayes sitting when If thou canst live so long that then Because thou lt ne'r be at th' expence To take thy il lookt figure thence He would but send the piece to me I 'd rather have it far then thee To hang up mongst my Sybels or Foul Hags lest some mistake thee for One of the Fatal Destinies Or Helbred Furies worse then these But I 'm afraid 't is his design To sel thee for some Tavern sign If he not hang thee out a loof o th' back o th' Change as weather proof And I shal see thee thy ruin'd face Hang out in Southwark old Queen Bess Epithalamium Amatorium To Aurora WHy peeps the envious Morne so soon upon The pleasures of our bed Pul back thy fierie coursers Phaeton And drive not til I bid And lest thy headstrong steeds their reins shu'd break That Virgin girdle take I now unti'd too soon for you it is And me our rosie nests to leave and rise Have I so many tedious Suns beheld And nights in sighing spent E'r to temptation I could make her yield And would you now prevent The long-wisht harvest of my joys delight Nor grant as long a night Go back to thy lov'd Thetis bosome go Whilst in our beds wee 'l sport it longer too I 'd
after many yawns and feined shows Of a transported mind at last the Elf Delivers nonsence like the mouth of Delph Leave leave thou russet Rabbi leave for shame And do not thus abuse that holy name And function of a Preacher drive agen Currie thy horses and not Christian men Else prophane huckster with thy whip thou maist E'r long be scourg'd and forth the Temple cast On the unusual cold and rainie weather in the Summer 1648. WHy puts our Grandame Nature on Her winter coat e'r summers done What hath she got an ague fit And thinks to make us hov'ring sit Over her lazie Embers else why should Old Hyems freeze our vernal bloud Or as we each day grow older Doth the world wax wan and colder 'T is so See how nakt Charitie Sterves in this frozen age whilst we Have no other heat but glow-worm zeal Whose warmth we see but cannot feel All chang'd are Ceres golden hairs To clouded grey and nought appears In Flora's dresse our hopes do die And o th' sudden blasted lie Heav'ns glorious lamps do wast away The Elements themselves decay And the mixt bodies mutinie By a rebellious sympathie Whilst the distemper'd world grows pale And sickning threatens death to all So in an instant waters swept The old worlds monsters whilst they wept It's funeral but the new world's sins Are so deep di'd no floud can rinse Nothing but lightning and Heav'ns fire Can purge our pestilential aire Farewel to passionate Love FArewel fond Love I 'l never bow Slave like unto my fetters I Fair Sex I 'l not adore you now Yet love you as my libertie Love grown adust with Melancholy To madness turns or extream folly About and with your fires I 'l play But with as loose and gentle touch As boys from hand to hand toss away Live coals lest they should burn too much Too ne'r his heart who lets love come Suffers a wilful Martyrdome Stout Souldiers in an Enemies land March not too far sans fear or wit E'r they resolve or to withstand Or wisely make a safe retreat Bodies when joyn'd engaged are Piqueering's better sport by far The Excuse To the Ladie E. B. YOur lovely fair did first invite Me to that strange demand Your wanton eie big with delight Made me to understand You pleasant as your looks where every glance Did raise and court my warm bloud to advance Then blame not me for loving you Who if alow'd would not do so Henceforth I 'l sit demure by you Nor speak when you w'ud hear Just as I w'ud your picture view Behold you and admire For if I speak you prompt my tongue with love And 'cause I tel 't you you unkind reprove Then blame not me for saying so Since 't was your beauty bid me woe Equalitie To two fair Mistresses SHal I freize between two fires Or doth a numness ceaze on me Each star inflames me with desires Yet which to chuse I cannot see Since reason admires equally Then give me both For faith and troth I should be loath Each should not pleased be Or you who so perfect are That nature hath her self outdone In making you bright lights so fair Rule by your turns that so each one May cool the heat o th' to'other Sun And Love me both For faith and troth I should be loath Each should not pleased be To a friend Ode AFfect not aierie Popularitie But what thou wouldst be thought that strive to be Praise is but Virtues shadow who court her Doth more the handmaid then the Dame admire Who only doth wel wel spoke of to bee Studies the praise and not the virtue he To blaze thy virtues ne'r bespeak thy friend If good they speak thee and themselves commend Now men but judge by heare-say thus they 'l know And see thy worth and judge it greater too True worth is best displaid by modestie The greatest rivers slide most silentlie Only the shallow brooks do prattle they Make a great noise and go but little way Fame that doth feed o th' vaine applause of men Gapes to its Eccho to be heard agen And like this lives awhile by others breath Which being stopt is husht to silent death Good actions crown themselves with lasting baies Who deserves wel needs not anothers praise Virtue 's her own reward though Eugâ— none Wil cry 't is Guerdon yet to have wel done A sudden Phansie at Midnight HOw i st we are thus melancholie what Are our rich ferkins out or rather that Which did inspire them the Immortal wine That did create us like it self divine Or are we Nectar-sated to the hight Or do we droop under the aged night If so weelvote it ne'r to be eleven Rather then â—â—us to part at six and seaven Moult then thy speedy wings old Time and be As slow-pac't as becomes thy age that we May chirp awhile and when we take our ease Then flie and poast as nimbly as you please Play the good fellow with us and sit down A while that we may drink the to'ther round I 'l promise here is none shal thee misuse Or pluck thee by the foretop in abuse Time saies he wil nor can he stay 'cause he Thinks him too grave for your young companie It makes no matter Sirs How say you yet toth'tother Subsidie Yes yes And let our Ganymede nimbly flie And fil us of the same Poetick sherrie Ben-Iohnson us'd to quaffe to make him merrie Such as would make the grey-beard botles talk Had they but tongues or had they legs to walk Such as would make Apollo smile or wu'd Draw all the Sisters to our Brotherhood And though the bald Fool staies not let him know Wee l sit and drink as fast as he shal go So as the salt Anchovis swam in oyl Wee 'l make them swim again in sacks sweet spoil On a Map of the World accidentally faln into the water and spoiled THe world drown'd once agen sure holy text Saies it should be by fire dissolved next Deucalion then weeps for this world as much As once for th' old he did it's sins are such And as before he drown'd a world of men In figure thus by chance it sinks agen Who Plato's book of Commonwealth did view By mice devour'd and thought thence would ensue A fatal Period of the publick State Would ha' presag'd the like unhappy fate Had but he seen this were attending us And construed this dire chance as ominous I 'l not obtrude for truths Prophetick dreams Yet Mara's waters like Nil's seavnfold streams ' Tofore that gently did but wet this Land Now in a purple lake of bloud do stand And quite o'rwhelm't and which is worse we fear No Olivebranch wil e'r agen appear The Microcosme of individual man See how that wavers in an Ocean Of perillous inconstancie whilst phlegme And crude raw humours quench the fires in him That his split-sailes bear not the gentlest blast See how the Moral world in strife doth wast And by like jarring doth
first touch to gilded baits and he Not able to disgest them forc't to die Then of slain Pelops Ivory shoulder how Io by jove was turn'd into a cow Of th' Minotaur's born of Pasiphe And of Leucothee turn'd into a tree Of frankincense or of Tiresias Who sometimes man and sometimes woman was Then of Minerva born of Jupiters brain Or by his wife how Hercules was slain With Nessus poison'd shirt or of the maid Turn'd to a spider how she first was said To invent spinning these he did conclude With many more you may ofttimes allude Unto your purpose where each fiction By allegoricall allusion Becomes your own and thereby also you Are both Historian and Poet too Troth I wil tel thee why I did omit Such fabulous phansies first because I writ Not only to be read but understood And next 'cause lies down not with all for food The finest web is by the spider spun He 's poor that borrows his invention On Mounsieur Congee A Proper handsome courtly man indeed And wel set out with cloaths can for a need Discourse with legs and quarter congies and Talk half an howr with help of foot and hand But when I viewd this Mounsieur clean throughout I found that he was only man without On Gripe GRipe to himself talks of the sums he lent And of the debts he ows but to prevent Others from borrowing more away you Iew Dost think I 'd ask of such a knave as you Besides if I of thee to day should borrow I know th' whole town should hear of it to morrow To Harsh MUsick that once could move each rock and tree Not a whit moves thee Harsh or pleaseth thee Thy inharmonious soul how wilt thou bring To Heav'n where Angels nothing else but sing A Hellish sure and untun'd soul hath he That is not rapt with musicks extasie Knowst not what evil spirits it expels It cur'd afflicted Saul and nothing else It doth inspire the soul and heighten it Tho' hadst better lose thy ears than once be bit By a Tarantula whose deadly wound Is only healed by soft musicks sound To Cupid His Armes blazoned LUna he bears in a cross Saturn plain A flaming heart transfixed Sol thus slain In the wounds orifice it bleeds Mars from whence Bloudie drops flow and under the pretence For Motto this inscribed more is Sanat Amor vulnus armoris Thy Arms do speak thee Noble Cruel too Else thou wouldst ne'r so many hearts undo How much thou dost degenerate I find For thy fair Goddesse Mother was more kind On proud Mrs. Minx PRide takes no cold yet Pride oft takes a fal Both which are true in this our finical Proud Mrs. Minx fair Madams waiting maid For though she went like her spruce Dame arraid In her cast gowns bare all the neck and breast Down to the shoulders and sometimes the rest Yet took no cold pride and lust kept her warm Though she went stript up above half the arm Yet did the pride of this She-goat at last Catch a shrewd fal for by a stumbling cast I' th' Lobby room her heels flew 'bove her head And so she broke her elboe 'gainst the bed Yet though she fel her belly riss what else Pride naturally when 't is at lowest swels On three Knights without spurs SIr Iohn in 's spurs no rowels had because There was no need his horse twice roweld was Sir George but one spur wore for if one side Will go to'ther wil follow he reply'd I askt Sir Lancelot why no spurs he wore Because saies he a free horse needs no spur If spurs shew Knights and Horsemen then I fear Mongst them was neither Knight or Chivalier On Copernicus his opinion who thought the earth went round IN vain did Drake with pains the Earth sail round Here 's one could do it easier on the ground On Doctour Love-Self LOve-Self when th' Plague in London reigned sore Grown rich himself shuts up and wu'd no more When most his help was wanted it seems then Hee 'd not his patients keep as married men Must keep their wives in Sickness and in Health Such is the fearful cowardize of wealth Though thou with th' Plague would'st nothing ha' to do A Plaguy cunning Doctour yet wer 't thou To my smal friend with a great beard THy face and self are smal but large thy beard Lop't off thy wood wil hide thee I 'm afferd To Ignorant Zoile ZOile I am told you pish and pough when e'r You any do my lines commending hear Pish on 'cause you stil in the wrong place pish Aspersing most the best as I could wish To the Reader IT is enough but if you think too much Then Reader say you saw me not for such As I for writing what is bad will you By others be for reading counted too SATYRS SATYR 1. The Argument Several phantastick Humors here Of Sea-sick minds described are Wedded to spend their time in vain Whence th' Authour woos them to refrein OH men oh manners what a medly 's this When each mans mind more than face diff'rent is For by forms only we distinguisht be One from another but alas to see We varie from our selves each day in mind Nor know we in our selvs our selvs to find Sure had Erasmus liv'd til now he wu'd Without an Oedipus ne'r have understood The riddles of this dark phantastick age Where each Ape alters with the scaene the stage Had I thy razour Actius to dissect These Gordian knotty humours men affect I 'd sharp my pen and after steep it all In wormwood vinegar and Stygian gal. Lend me thy whip Alecto that I may Scourge the prepost'rous times as Boys at play Do whip their eggshels yet don't I wel know Whether my anger they deserve or no But rather pittie whether rather I Should with scorn laugh at them or for them crie Ev'n Heraclitus spleen would tickled be To view Welch bobbie and Garlick eat or see A French grenovillio fricas with young mice And mushroms mixt or the low-dutch device Of roasted sprats and Herrings or th' Irish Tough bonyclabber or that German dish Of pickled snails and tender Grashoppers Or the Jews Locusts with their Elder ears As much as see an Asse eat thistles who Would not admire that every Country so Should vary phansies and thus strangely affect A nouvell diet with their Dialect But stomacks like our minds are sickly too Both are best pleas'd with quelquechoses vain so new So have I seen a travaild Squire discourse On several sawces spin out second course With a picktooth in 's mouth and chafindish To stew his raw roast fowl and codled fish Til we had lost our stomacks and new got Learn'd in the art of eating was he not Yet this at home most galls my patience To see so humorous a difference Of more phantastick giddy minds that draw Like Mules and Oxen each another way Here 's one writes more than some good Scholars read And quoats more Authours than