Selected quad for the lemma: heaven_n
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A04651
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Ben: Ionson's execration against Vulcan· VVith divers epigrams by the same author to severall noble personages in this kingdome. Never published before.; Execration against Vulcan
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Jonson, Ben, 1573?-1637.; Vaughan, Robert, engraver.
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1640
(1640)
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STC 14771; ESTC S107918
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16,364
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58
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same that thou art promis'd but be slow And long in changing let our Nephews see Thee quickly come the gardens eye to be And still to stand so Haste now envious Moone And interpose thy selfe care not how soone And threat the great Eclips two houres but runne Sol will reshine if not Charles hath a Sonne Non Displicuisse meretur Festinat Caesar qui placuisse tibi B. Ionson Another on the Birth of the Prince ANother Phoenix though the first is dead A second 's flowne from his immortall bed To make this our Arabia to be The nest of an eternall progeny Choise Nature fram'd the former but to finde What error might be mended in Man-kinde Like some industrious workman which affect Their first endeavours onely to correct So this the building that the modell was The type of all that now is come to passe That but the shadow this the substance is All that was but the prophesie of this And when it did this after birth fore-runne 'T was but the morning starre unto this Sunne The dawning of this day when Sol did think We having such a light that he might wink And we ne're misse his lustre nay so soone As Charles was borne he and the pale-fac'd Moon With envy then did copulate to try If such a Birth might be produc'd i' th sky What Heavenly favour made a starre appeare To bid wise Kings to doe their homage here And prove him truely Christian long remain On Earth sweet Prince that when great Charles shal reign In Heaven above our little Charles may be As great on Earth because as good as he B. Ionson A Paralell of the Prince to the King SO Peleus when he faire Thetis got As thou thy Sea-Queene so to him she brought A blessed Babe as thine hath done to thee His worthiest prov'd of those times ours may be Of these his had a Pallas for his guide Thy wisedome will as well for ours provide His Conquered Countries Cities Castles Towers A worthy foe hereafter so may ours His all his time but once Patroclus findes But this of ours a world of faithfull friends He 's vulnerable in no place but one And this of ours we hope be hurt of none His had his Phoenix ours no teacher needs But the example of thy Life and Deeds His Nestor knew in Armes his fellow was But not in yeares too soone runne out his Glasse Ours though not Nestor knew we trust shall bee As wise in Armes as old in yeares as hee His after Death had Homer his reviver And ours may better merit to live ever By Deeds farre-passing but oh sad dispaire No hope of Homer his wit left no heire B. Jonson An Elegy on the Lady Jane Paulet Marchionesse of Winchester VVhat goodly Ghost besprint with Aprill dew Halls me so solemnly to yonder Yeugh And beckoning wooes me from the fatall tree To plucke a Garland for her selfe or me I doe obey you beauty for in death You seeme a faire one O that I had breath To give your shade a name stay stay I feele A horror in me all my blood is steele Stiffe stark my ioynts 'gainst one another knock Whose daughter ha great Savage of the Rock He 's good as great I am almost a stone And ere I can aske more of her she 's gone Alas I am all Marble write the rest Thou wouldst have written fame upon my breast It is a large faire Table and a true And the disposure will be somewhat new When I who would her Poet have become At least may beare th' inscription to her Tombe She was the Lady Iane and Marchionesse Of Winchester the Heralds can tell this Earle Rivers grand-child serve not titles Fame Sound thou her vertues give her soule a name Had I a thousand mouths as many tongues And voyce to raise them from my brasen Lungs I durst not aime at the Dotes thereof were such No Nation can expresse how much Their Charact was I or my trump must breake But rather I should I of that part speake It is too neare of kin to God the soule To be describ'd Fames fingers are too foule To touch those misteries we may admire The heate and splendor but not handle fire What she did by great example well T' inlive posterity her fame may tell And calling truth to witnesse make it good From the inherint graces in her blood Else who doth prayle a person by a new But a feign'd way doth spoyle it of the true Her sweetnesse softnesse her faire courtesie Her wary guards her wise simplicity Were like a ring of vertues 'bout her set And Piety the center where all met A reverend state she had an awfull eye A darling yet inviting Maiesty VVhat Nature Fortune Institution Fact Could heape to a perfection was her act How did she leave the world with what contempt Iust as she in it liv'd and so exempt From all affection when they urg'd the Cure Of her disease how did her soule assure Her sufferings as the Body had bin away And to the torturers her Doctors say Sticke on your Cupping-glasses feare not put Your hottest Causticks to burne lance or cut T is but a body which you can torment And I into the world with my soule was sent Then comforted her Lord and blest her sonne Chear'd her faire sisters in her race to runne VVhich gladnesse temper'd her sad parents teares Made her friends ioyes to get above their feares And in her last act taught the standers by With admiration and applause to dye Let Angels sing her glories who did call Her spirit home to her originall That saw the way was made it and were sent To carry and conduct the complement 'Twixt death and life where her mortality Became her birth-day to eternity And now through circumfused lights she lookes On Natures secrets there as her owne bookes Speakes heavens language and discourses free To every Order every Hierarchy Beholds her Maker and in him doth see VVhat the beginning of all beauties be And all beatitudes that thence doth flow VVhich the Elect of God are sure to know Goe now her happy parents and be sad If yee not understand what child you had If you dare quarrell heaven and repent To have paid againe a blessing was but lent And trusted so as it deposited lay At pleasure to be cald for every day If you can envy your owne daughters blisse And wish her state lesse happy than it is If you can cast about your either eye And see all dead here or about to dye The Stars that are the iewells of the night The day deceasing with the Prince of light The Sun Great Kings mightiest kingdoms fal VVhole nations nay man-kind the world all That ever had beginning to have end VVith what iniustice can one soule pretend T' escape this common knowne necessity VVhen we were all borne we beganne to dye And but for that brave contention and strife The Christian hath t' enioy a future life
as sence and onely by his eyes But you I know my Lord and know you can Discerne betweene a Statue and a man Can doe the things that Statue doe deserve And act the businesse which these paint or carve What you have studied are the Arts of Life To compose men and manners stint the strife Of froward Citizens make Nations know What world of Blessings to good Kings they owe And mightiest Monarchs feele what large increase Of Fame and Honour you possesse by peace These I looke up at with a measuring eye And strike Religion in the standers by Which though I cannot like as an Architect In glorious Piles and Pyramides erect Vnto your Honour I can voyce in song Aloud and haply it may last as long B. Ionson To Mr. Ionson upon these Verses YOur Verses were commended as 't is true That they were very good I meane to you For they return'd you Ben I have beene told The seld seene summe of forty pound in gold These Verses then being rightly understood His Lordship not Ben Ionson made them good I. E. To my Detractor MY Verses were commended thou didst say And they were very good yet thou thinkst nay For thou obiectest as thou hast beene told Th' envy'd returne of forty pound in gold Foole do not rate my rimes I have found thy vice Is to make cheap the Lord the Lines the Price But bark thou on I pitty thee poore Cur That thou shouldst lose thy noise thy foame thy stur To be knowne what thou art thou blatent beast But writing against me thou thinkst at least I now would write on thee no wretch thy name Cannot worke out unto it such a Fame No man will tarry by thee as he goes To aske thy name if he have halfe a nose But flye thee like the Pest. Walke not the streete Out in the Dog-dayes least the Killer meet Thy Noddle with his Club and dashing forth Thy dirty brains men see thy want of worth B. Ionson To William Earle of New-Castle on the Backing of his Horse VVHen first my Lord I saw you backe your Horse Provoke his mettle and command his force To all the uses of the field and race Me thought I read the ancient Art of Thrace And saw a Centaure past those tales of Greece So seem'd your Horse and You both of a peece You shew'd like Perseus upon Pegasus Or Castor mounted on his Cillarus Or what we heare our home-borne Legend tell Of bold Sir Bevis and his Arundell And so your seate his beauties did endorse As I began to wish my selfe a horse And surely had I but your Stable seene Before I thinke my wish absolv'd had beene For never saw I yet the Muses dwell Nor any of their Houshold halfe so well So well as when I saw the floore and roome I look'd for Hercules to be the Groome And cry'd away with the Caesarian Bread At these immortall Mangers Virgil fed B. Jonson To William Earle of New-Castle An Epigram on his Fencing THey talke of Fencing and the use of Armes The Art of urging and avoyding harmes The Noble Science and the Mastring skill Of making iust approaches how to kill To hit in Angles and to clash with time As all defence or offence were a chime I hate this measur'd give me metled fire That trembls i'th'blaze but then mounts higher A swift and darling motion when a paire Of men doe meete like rarified aire Their weapons darted with that flame and force As they out-did the lightning in the course This were a spectacle a sight to draw Wonder to valour no it is a Law Of daring not to doe a wrong t is true Next to dispise it being done to you To know all heads of danger where 't is fit To bend to breake provoke or suffer it And this my Lord is valour this is yours And was your Fathers and your Ancestors Who durst live great when death appear'd or bands And valiant were with or without their hands B. Jonson To Sir Kenelme Digby An Epigram THough happy Muse thou know my Digby wel Yet take him in these Lines he doth excell In Honours Courtesie and all the parts Court can call hers or man would call his Arts He 's prudent valiant iust and temperate In him all action is beheld in state And he is built like some Imperiall roome For those to dwell in and be still at home His breast is a brave Pallace a broad street Where all Heroicke ample thoughts doe meet Where Nature such a large surveigh hath tane As others soules to his dwell in a lane Witnesse his birth-day the eleventh of Iune And his grat action done at Scanderoone That day which I predestin'd am to sing For Brittains honour and to Charles my King Goe Muse in and salute him say he be Busie or frowne at first when he sees thee He wil chear up his fore-head think thou bring'st Good Fortune to him in the Note thou sing'st For he doth love my Verses and will looke Vpon them next to Spencers Noble Booke And praise them too O what a Fame 't will bee What reputation to my Lines and me When he doth read them at the Treasurers board The knowing Weston and that learned Lord Allowes them then what Coppies will be had What transcripts made how cri'd up how glad VVilt thou be Muse when this shal then befall Being sent to one they will be read of all B. Ionson His Mistresse Drawne SItting and ready to be drawne What make these Velvets Silks and Lawne Imbroderies Feathers Fringe and Lace When every Limbe takes like a face Send these suspected helps to aide Some forme defective and decai'd This beauty without falsehood faire Needs nought to cloath it but the Aire Yet something to the Painters view Were fitly interposed so new He shall if he can understand Worke by my fancy with his hand Draw first a Cloud all save her necke And out of that make day to breake Till like her face it doe appeare And men may thinke all light rose there Then let the beames of that disperse The Cloud and shew the Vniverse But at such distance as the eye May rather it adore than spye The Heavens design'd draw next a Spring With all that youth or it may bring Foure Rivers branching forth like seas And Paradise confin'd in these Last draw the Circle of this Globe And let there be a starry Robe Of Constillations 'bout her hurl'd And thou hast painted beauties world But Painter see you doe not sell A Coppy of this Piece nor tell VVhose 't is but if it favour finde Next sitting wee will draw her minde B. Jonson Her Minde PAynter y' are come but may be gone Now I have better thought thereon This worke I can performe alone And give you reasons more than one Not that your Art I doe refuse But here I may no Colours use Besides your hand will never hit To draw the thing that cannot sit You could make shift to paint