Roof And striking Fire in the Air We Mortals call a shooting Star. XI That 's all the Light we now receive Unless what belching Vulcans give And those yield such a kind of Light As adds more horror to the Night XII Nyctimine now freed from day From sullen Bush flies out to prey And does with Feret note proclaim Th' arrival of th' usurping Dame. XIII The Rail now cracks in Fields and Meads Toads now forsake the Nettle-beds The tim'rous Hare goes to relief And wary Men bolt out the Theef XIV The Fire 's new rak't and Hearth swept clean By Madg the dirty Kitchin Quean The Safe is lock't the Mouse-trap set The Leaven laid and Bucking wet XV. Now in false Floors and Roofs above The lustful Cats make ill-tun'd Love The Ban-dog on the Dunghil lies And watchful Nurse sings Lullabies XVI Philomel chants it whilst she bleeds The Bittern booms it in the Reeds And Reynard entring the back Yard The Capitolian Cry is heard XVII The Goblin now the Fool alarms Haggs meet to mumble o're their Charms The Night-mare rides the dreaming Ass And Fairies trip it on the grass XVIII The Drunkard now supinely snores His load of Ale sweats through his Pores Yet when he wakes the Swine shall find A Cropala remains behind XIX The Sober now and Chast are blest With sweet and with refreshing rest And to sound sleeps they 've best pretence Have greatest share of Innocence XX. We should so live then that we may Fearless put off our Clotts and Clay And travel through Death's shades to Light For every Day must have its Night Ode GOOD night my Love may gentle rest Charm up your Senses till the Light Whilst I with Care and Woe opprest Go to inhabit endless Night There whilst your Eyes shall grace the Day I must in the despairing shade Sigh such a woful time away As never yet poor Lover had Yet to this endless Solitude There is one dangerous step to pass To one that loves your sight so rude As Flesh and Blood is loth to pass But I will take it to express I worthily your Favours wore Your merits Sweet can claim no less Who dyes for you can do no more Ode de Monsieur Racan INgrateful cause of all my harms I go to seek amidst Alarms My Death or Liberty And that 's all now I 've left to do Since cruel Fair in serving you I can nor live nor dye The King his Towns sees desart made His Plains with armed Troops o're-spread Violence do's controul All 's Fire and Sword before his Eyes Yet has he fewer Enemies Than I have in my Soul. But yet alas my hope is vain To put a period to my pain By any desperate ways ` T is you that hold my Life enchain'd And under Heaven you command And only you my days If in a Battel 's loud'st Alarms I rush amongst incensed Arms Invoking Death to take me Seeing me look so pale the Foe Will think me Death himself and so Not venture to attaque me In Bloody Fields where Mars doth make With his loud Thunder all to shake Both Earth and Heav'n to boot Mans pow'r to kill me I despise Since Love with Arrows from your Eyes Had not the Pow'r to doo 't No I must languish still unblest And in worst Torments manifest My firm Fidelity Or that my Reason set me free Since Fair in serving you I see I can nor live nor dye Contentation Directed to my Dear Father and most Worthy Friend Mr. Isaac Walton HEav'n what an Age is this what Race Of Giants are sprung up that dare Thus fiy in the Almighty's Face And with his Providence make War II. I can go no where but I meet With Malecontents and Mutineers As if in Life was nothing sweet And we must Blessings reap in Tears III. O senseless Man that murmurs still For Happiness and does not know Even though he might enjoy his Will What he would have to make him so IV. Is it true Happiness to be By undiscerning Fortune plac't In the most eminent Degree Where few arrive and none stand fast V. Titles and Wealth are Fortune's Toyls Wherewith the Vain themselves ensnare The Great are proud of borrow'd Spoils The Miser's Plenty breeds his Care. VI. The one supinely yawns at rest Th' other eternally doth toyl Each of them equally a Beast A pamper'd Horse or lab'ring Moyl VII The Tituladoâ—s oft disgrac'd By publick hate or private frown And he whose Hand the Creature rais'd Has yet a Foot to kick him down VIII The Drudge who would all get all save Like a brute Beast both feeds and lies Prone to the Earth he digs his Grave And in the very labour dies IX Excess of ill got ill kept Pelf Does only Death and Danger breed Whilst one rich Worldling starves himself With what would thousand others feed X By which we see what Wealth and Pow'r Although they make men rich and great The sweets of Life do often four And gull Ambition with a Cheat. XI Nor is he happier than these Who in a moderate estate Where he might safely live at case Has Lusts that are immoderate XII For he by those desires misled Quits his own Vine's securing shade T' expose his naked empty head To all the Storms Man's Peace invade XIII Nor is he happy who is trim Trick't up in favours of the Fair Mirrors with every Breath made dim Birds caught in every wanton snare XIV Woman man's greatest woe or bliss Does ofter far than serve enslave And with the Magick of a Kiss Destroys whom she was made to save XV. Oh fruitful Grief the World's Disease And vainer Man to make it so Who gives his Miseries encrease By cultivating his own woe XVI There are no ills but what we make By giving Shapes and Names to things Which is the dangerous mistake That causes all our Sufferings XVII We call that Sickness which is Health That Persecution which is Grace That Poverty which is true Wealth And that Dishonour which is Praise XVIII Providence watches over all And that with an impartial Eye And if to Misery we fall ` T is through our own Infirmity XIX ` T is want of foresight makes the bold Ambitious Youth to danger climb And want of Vertue when the old At Persecution do repine XX. Alas our Time is here so short That in what state soe're `t is spent Of Joy or Wo does not import Provided it be innocent XXI But we may make it pleasant too If we will take our Mâ—asures right And not what Heav'n has done undo By an unruly Appetite XXII ` T is Contentation that alone Can make us happy here below And when this little Life is gone Will lift us up to Heav'n too XXIII A very little satisfies An honest and a grateful heart And who would more than will suffice Does covet more than is his part XXIV That man is happy in his share Who is warm clad and cleanly fed Whose Necessaries bound
good and ill of those you love and hate In vain I sue to her I so adore In vain her help that has no Power implore For as black Night pursues the glorious Sun The greatest Good does but some Ill fore-run When handsome Paris liv'd with Helen fair He saw his Fortune rais'd above his Care But Fate severely did revenge that bliss For as with time his Fortune changed is From his Delights sprang a debate that Fire Brought to old Troy and massacred his Sire And though in that subversion there appearâ— Such sad mishaps of Bloud of Fire and Tears Yet by that Heavenly Face I so adore I swear for love of thee I suffer more For so long absent from thy gracious Eyes Methinks I banisht am the Deities And that from Heaven with Thunder wrapt in Flame To th' Centre I precipitated am Since I left thee my Pleasures in their Tomb â—ye dead and I their Mourner am become With all Delights my Thoughts distasted are And only to dislike the World take care Which as complying with my peevish Will Does nothing I protest but vex me still In Paris like an Hermit I retire And in one Object limit my Desire Where e'er my Eyes seek to divert my Mind I bear the Prison where I am confin'd My Blood is sir'd and my Soul wounded lies By th' golden Shaft shot from thy killing Eyes All the Temptations that I daily see Serve only to confirm my Faith to thee The usual helps that humane Reâ—son bless To render a Man's Passion someâ—hing less Stir mine up more to suffer chearfully Th' obliging Torments that do make me dye My Prudence by my Courage is withstood As by a rock the fury of the Floud I love my Frenzy and I could not love Him of my Friends that should it disapprove Nor do I think my reasonable part Will e'er approach me whilst thou absent art I find my Thoughts uncessantly approve The torturing effects of faithful Love. I find that Day it self shares in my pain The Air 's o'respread with Clouds the Earth with Rain That horrid Visions in my starting Sleep My Souls in their illusions tangled keep That all the apprehensions in my Head Are Madness by my feverish Passion bred That at husht midnight I imagine Storms And see a Ship-wrack in its dreadfull'st Forms Fall from the top of an high precipice Into the Jaws of an obscure Abyss And there a thousand ugly Serpents see Hissing t' advance their scaly Crests at me I cannot once dream of a false Delight But cruel Death straight seizes me in spite But when Heaven weary to have gone thus far Gives that I live under a better Star And when th' unconstant Stars by their chang'd power Present me for my Pains one happy hour My Soul will find it self chang'd at thy sight And of all past mishaps revenged quite Though in Nights Sleep my Spirits buried lay Thy sight my Dear would lend them beams of Day Thy Voice has over me the self same power With Zephyr's Breath over th' Earth's wither'd Flower The vigorous Springs makes all things fresh and new The blowing Rose puts on her blushing hue The Heavens more gay the Days more fair appear Aurora dressing to the Birds gives ear The wild Beasts of the Forrest free from Care Do feel their Bloud and Youth renewed are And naturally obedient to their Sense Without remorse their Pleasures recommence I only in the season all are blest With cruel and continual Griefs opprest Alone in Winter sad and comfortless See not the glorious Spring that we should blâ—ss I only see the Forrest fair forsook ' Th' Earths surface Desart and the frozen Brook And as if charm'd cannot once tast the Fruit That in this season to all Palats suit But when those Suns my adoration claim Shall with their Rays once reinforce my Flame My Spring will then return more sweet and fair By thousand times than those ' Heavens Lamp gives are If ever Fate allow mine Eyes that grace My Joys will transcend those of humane Race Nothing but that Oh Gods nothing but that Do I desire to baâ—â—le Death and Fate Out of Astrea MADRIGALL I Think I could my Passions sway Though great as Beauties power can move To such obedience as to say I cannot or I do not love But to pretend another Flame Since I adore thy conqu'ring Eye To thee and Truth were such a shame I cannot do it though I dye If I must one or th' other do Then let me die I beg of you Stanzes upon the Death of Cleon. Out of Astrea I. THE Beauty which so soon to Cinders turn'd By Death of her Humanity depriv'd Like Light'ning vanisht like the Bolt it burn'd So great this Beauty was and so short liv'd II. Those Eyes so practis'd once in all the Arts That loyal Love attempted or e'er knew Those fair Eyes now are shut that once the hearts Of all that saw their lustre did subdue III. If this be true Beauty is ravisht hence Love vanquisht droops that ever conquered And she who gave Life by her influence Is if she live not in my Bosom dead IV. Henceforth what happiness can Fortune send Since Death this abstract of all Joy has won Since Shadows do the Substance still attend And that our good does but our ill fore-run V. It seems my Cleon in thy rising morn That Destiny thy whole Days course had bound And that thy Beauty dead as soon as born It s fatal Hearâ—e has in its Cradle â—ound VI. No no thou shalt not die I Death will prove Who Life by thy sweet Inspiration drew If Lovers live in that which doth them love Thou liv'st in me who ever lov'd most true VII If I do live Love then will have it known That even Death it self he can controul Or as a God to have his Power shown Will that I live without of Heart or Soul. VIII But Cleon if Heav'ns unresisâ—ed will 'Point thee of Death th' inhumane Fate to try Love to that Fate equals my Fortune still Thou by my mourning by the Death I dye IX Thus did I my immortal Sorrows Breath Mine Eyes to Fountains turn'd of springing Woe But could not stay the wounding Hand of Death Lament but not lessen misfortune so X. When Love with me having bewail'd the loss Of this sweet Beauty thus much did express Cease cease to weep this mourning is too gross Our Tears are still than our misfortune less Song of the inconstant Hylas Out of Astrea I. IF one disdain me then I fly Her Cruelty and her Disdain And e'er the Morning guild the Sky Another Mistriss do obtain They err who hope by force to move A Womans Heart to like or love II. Iâ— oft falls out that they who in Discretion seem us to despise Nourish a greater Fire within Although perhaps conceal'd it lies Which we when once we quit our rooms Do kindle for the next that comes III. The faithful Fool that obstinatâ— Pursues a
cries XIX The World is now a busie swarm All doing good or doing harm But let 's take heed our Acts be true For Heaven's eye sees all we doe XX. None can that piercing sight evade It penetrates the darkest shade And sin though it could scape the eye Would be discover'd by the Cry. Noon Quatrains I. THe day grows hot and darts his Rays From such a sure and killing place That this half World are fain to fly The danger of his burning eye II. Hâ—s early Glories were benign Warm to be felt bright to be seen And all was comfort but who can Endure him when Meridian III. Of him we as of Kings complain Who mildly do begin to reign But to the Zenith got of pow'r Those whom they should protect devour IV. Has not another Phaeton Mounted the Chariot of the Sun And wanting Art to guide his Horse Is hurri'd from the Sun 's due course V. If this hold on our fertile Lands Will soon be turn'd to parched Sands And not an Onion that will grow Without a Nile to overflow VI. The grazing Herds now droop and pant Een without labour fit to faint And willingly forsook their Meat To seek out cover from the heat VII The lagging Ox is now unbound From larding the new turn'd up ground Whilst Hobbinal alike o'er-laid Takes his course dinner to the shade VIII Cellars and Grottos now are best To eat and drink in or to rest And not a Soul above is found Can find a refuge under ground IX When Pagan Tyranny grew hot Thus persecuted Christians got Into the dark but friendly Womb Of unknown Subterranean Rome X. And as that heat did cool at last So a few scorching hours o'er pass'd In a more mild and temp'rate Ray We may again enjoy the day The Night Written by Monsieur le Comte de Cremail Stanzes I. OH Night by me so oft requir'd Oh Night by me so much desir'd Of my Felicity the cause Oh Night so wellcome to my eyes Grant in this horrour of the Skies This dreadfull shade thy Curtain draws That I may now adore this Night The Star that burns and gives me light II. Spread o'er the Earth thy Sable Veil Heaven's twinckling sparklets to conceal That darkness seems to day t' improve For other light I do need none To guide me to my lovely one But only that of mine own love And all light else offends my sight But hers whose eye does give me light III. Oblivion of our forepass'd woes Thou Charm of sadness and repose Of Souls that languish in despair Why dost thou not from Lethe rise Dost thou not see the whole World snies With Lovers who themselves declare Enemies to all noise and light And coveâ— nothing but the Night IV. At her transparent Window there Thou 'lt see Aminta's eye appear That like a Sun set round with Ray The shadows from the Sky shall chase Changing the colour of its face Into a bright and glorious day Yet do not fear this Sun so bright For 't is a mighty Friend to Night V. Rise then lov'd Night rise from the Sea And to my Sun Aurora be And now thy blackest Garment wear Dull sleep already thee forgoes And each-where a dumb silence does Thy long'd-for long approach declare I know the Star that gives me light To see me only stays for Night VI. Ha! I see shades rise from th'Abiss And now I go the Lips to kiss The Breasts and Eyes have me deceiv'd Oh Night the height of my desire Canst thou put on so black attire That I by none can be perceiv'd And that I may this happy Night See the bright Star that gives me light VII Oh that my dusky Goddess could In her thick Mantle so enfold Heaven's torches as to damp their fire That here on Earth thou might'st for ever Keep thy dark Empire Night and never Under the Waves again retire That endless so might be the Night Wherein I see the Star my light Evening Quatrains I. THE Day 's grown old the fainting Sun Has but a little way to run And yet his Steeds with all his skill Scarce lug the Chariot down the Hill. II. With Labour spent and Thirst opprest Whilst they strain hard to gain the West From Fetlocks hot drops melted light Which turn to Meteors in the Night III. The Shadows now so long do grow That Brambles like tall Cedars show Mole-hills seem Mountains and the Ant Appears a monstrous Elephant IV. A very little little Flock Shades thrice the ground that it would stock Whilst the small Stripling following them Appears a mighty Polypheme V. These being brought into the Fold And by the thrifty Master told He thinks his Wages are well paid Since none are either lost or stray'd VI. Now lowing Herds are each-where heard Chains rattle in the Villains Yard The Cart's on Tayl set down to rest Bearing on high the Cuckolds Crest VII The hedg is stript the Clothes brought in Nought's left without should be within The Bees are hiv'd and hum their Charm Whilst every House does seem a Swarm VIII The Cock now to the Roost is prest For he must call up all the rest The Sow's fast pegg'd within the Sty To still her squeaking Progeny IX Each one has had his Supping Mess The Cheese is put into the Press The Pans and Bowls clean scalded all â—ear'd up against the Milk-house Wall. X. And now on Benches all are sat â—n the cool Air to sit and chat till Phoebus dipping in the West â—hall lead the World the way to Rest. Night Quatrains I. THE Sun is set and gone to sleep With the fair Princess of the Deep Whose Bosom is his cool Retreat When fainting with his proper Heat II. His Steeds their Flaming Nostrils cool In Spume of the Cerulean Pool Whilst the Wheels dip their hissing Naves Deep in Columbus's Western Waves III. From whence great rowls of Smoke arise To overshade the Beauteous Skies Who bid the World 's bright Eye adieu In gelid tears of falling Dew IV. And now from the Iberian Vales Nights sable Steeds her Chariot hales Where double Cypress Curtains skreen The gloomy Melancholick Queen V. These as they higher mount the Sky Ravish all Colour from the Eye And leave it but an useless glass Which few or no Reflections grace VI. â—he Crystal Arch o're Pindus's Crown â— on a sudden dusky grown â—nd all 's with Fun'ral Black o'respread â—s if the Day which sleeps were dead VII â—o Ray of Light the Heart to chear â—â—t little twinkling Stars appear â—hich like faint dying embersâ—ly â—t nor to work nor travel by VIII â—erhaps to him they Torches are â—ho guide Night's Sovereign's drowsy Car â—nd him they may befriend so near â—ut us they neither light nor chear IX 〈◊〉 else those little sparks of Light â—re Nayls that tyre the Wheels of Night â—hich to new stations still are brought 〈◊〉 they rowl o'r the gloomy Vault X. Or Nayls that arm the Horses hoof Which trampling o're the marble
637. Foco di Sdegno from Guarini 638. Risposta del Tasto 639. Winter 640. An Elegy on the Lord Hastings 655. The Battail of Yvry 657. POEMS On several Occasions To Coelia ODE I. GIve me my heart again fair Treachery You ravish'd from me with a smile Oh! let it in some nobler quarrel die Than a poor Trophy of your guile And Faith bright Coelia tell me what should you Who are all Falshood doe with one so true II. Or lend me yours awhile instead of it That I in time my skill may try Though ill I know it will my bosom fit To teach it some Fidelity Or that it else may teach me to begin To be to you what you to me have been III. False and imperious Coelia cease to be Proud of a Conquest is your shame You triumph o'er an humble Enemy Not one you fairly overcame Your eyes alone might have subdu'd my heart Without the poor confed'racy of Art. IV. But to the pow'r of Beauty you must add The Witchcraft of a sigh and tear I did admire before but yet was made By those to love they fix'd me there I else as other transient Lovers doe Had twenty lov'd e'er this as well as you V. And twenty more I did intend to love E'er twenty weeks are past and gone And at a rate so modish as shall prove My heart a very civil one But oh false fair I thus resolve in vain Unless you give me back my heart again The Expostulation I. HAve I lov'd my Fair so long Six Olympiads at least And to Youth and Beauties wrong On Vertues single Interest To be at last with ceorn oppress'd II. Have I lov'd that space so true Without looking once awry Lest I might prove false to you To whom I vow'd Fidelity To be repay'd with Cruelty III. Was you not oh sweet confess Willing to be so belov'd Favour gave my Flame encrease By which it still aspiring mov'd And had gone out if disapprov'd IV. Whence then can this change proceed Say or whither does it tend That false heart will one day bleed When it has brought so true a Friend To cruel and untimely end Sonnet WHat have I left to doe but dye Since Hope my old Companion That train'd me from my Infancy My Friend my Comforter is gone Oh fawning false deceiving Friend Accursed be thy Flatteries Which treacherously did intend I should be wretched to be wise And so I am for being taught To know thy guiles have only wrought My greater misery and pain My misery is yet so great That though I have found out the Cheat I wish for thee again in vain The Tempest I. STanding upon the margent of the Main Whilst the high boiling Tide came tumbling in I felt my fluctuating thoughts maintain As great an Ocean and as rude within As full of Waves of Depths and broken Grounds As that which daily laves her chalky bounds II. Soon could my sad Imagination find A Parallel to this half World of Floud An Ocean by my walls of Earth confin'd And Rivers in the Chanels of my Bloud Discovering man unhappy man to be Of this great Frame Heaven's Epitome III. There pregnant Argosies with full Sails ride To shoot the Gulphs of Sorrow and Despair Of which the Love no Pilot has to guide But to her Sea-born Mother steers by Pray'r When oh the Hope her Anchor lost undone Rolls at the mercy of the Regent Moon IV. 'T is my ador'd Diana then must be The Guid'ress to this beaten Bark of mine 'T is she must calm and smooth this troubled Sea And waft my hope over the vaulting Brine Call home thy venture Dian then at last And be as merciful as thou art chaste To Coelia ODE I. WHen Coelia must my old day set And my young morning rise In beams of joy so bright as yet Ne'er bless'd a Lovers eye My State is more advanc'd than when I first attempted thee I su'd to be a Servant then But now to be made Free. II. I 've serv'd my time Faithfull and True Expecting to be plac'd In happy Freedom as my due To all the Joys thou hast Ill Husbandry in Love is such A Scandal to Love's pow'r We ought not to mispend so much As one poor short-liv'd hour III. Yet think not Sweet I 'm weary grown That I pretend such haste Since none to surfeit e'er was known Before he had a taste My Infant Love could humbly wait When young it scarce knew how To plead but grown to Man's estate He is impatient now The Picture I. HOw Chloris can I e'er believe The Vows of Women kind Since yours I faithless find So faithless that you can refuse To him your shadow that to chuse You swore you could the substance give II. Is' t not enough that I must go Into another Clime Where Feather-footed Time May turn my Hopes into Despair My youthful Dawn to bristled Hair But that you add this torment too III. Perchance you fear Idolatry Would make the Image prove A Woman fit for love Or give it such a soul as shone Through fond Pigmalion's living stone That so I might abandon thee IV. O no! 't would fill my Genius room My honest one that when Frailty would love agen And failing with new objects burn Then Sweetest would thy Picture turn My wandring eyes to thee at home Elegy GOds are you just and can it be You should deal man his misery With such a liberal hand yet spare So meanly when his Joys you share Durst timorous Mortality Demand of this the reason why The Argument of all our Ills Would end in this that 't is your Wills. Be it so then and since 't is fit We to your harsh Decrees submit Farewell all durable content Nothing but woe is permanent How strangely in a little space Is my State chang'd from what it was When my Clorinda with her Rays Illustrated this happy place When she was here was here alass How sadly sounds that when she was That Monarch rul'd not under sky Who was so great a Prince as I And if who boasts most Treasure be The greatest Monarch I was he As seiz'd of her who from her Birth Has been the Treasure of the Earth But she is gone and I no more That mighty Sovereign but as poor Since stript of that my glorious trust As he who grovels in the dust Now I could quarrel Heav'n and be Ring-leader to a Mutiny Like that of the Gygantick Wars And hector my malignant Stars Or in a tamer method sit Sighing as though my heart would split With looks dejected armes across Mourning and weeping for a loss My sweet if kind as heretofore Can in two short-liv'd hours restore Some God then sure you are not all Deaf to poor Lovers when they call Commiserating my sad smart Touch fair Clorinda's noble heart To pitty a poor suâ—â—erer Disdains to sigh unless for her Some friendly Deity possess Her generous Breast with my distress Oh! tell her how I sigh away
a season The very Heaven it self alass Is now so pav'd with liquid Glass That if they han't on th' other side Learn'd in their younger days to slide It is so slippy made withall They cannot go two steps but fall The Nectar which the Gods do troll Is frozen i' th' Celestial Boul And the Cup-bearer Ganimed Has capp'd his frizled flaxed head The naked Gemini God wot A very scurvy Rhume have got And in this coldest of cold weathers Had they not been warm wrap'd in Feathers Mercury's heels had been I trow Pepper'd with running Kibes e'er now Nor are these Deities whom Love To men has tempted from above To pass their time on Earth more free From the cold blast than th 'others be For Truth amidst the blust'ring Rout Can't keep her Torch from blowing out Justice since none would take her word Has for a Wastcoat pawn'd her Sword And it is credibly related Her Fillet's to a Quoife translated Fortune's foot 's frozen to her Ball Bright Chrystal from her nose does fall And all the work she now intends Is but to blow her fingers ends The Muses have the Schools forsook To creep into the Chimney nook Where for default of other wood Although it goes to his heart's blood Apollo for to warm their shins Makes fires of Lutes and Violins The Trout and Grailing that did rove At liberty like swift wing'd Dove In Ice are crusted up and pent Enslav'd with the poor Element 'T is strange but what 's more strange than these Thy Bounties Knight can never freeze But e'en amidst the Frost and Snow In a continued Torrent flow Oh! let me come and live with thee I Winter shall nor feel nor see On Rutt the Iudge RVTT to the Suburb Beauties full well known Was from the bag scarce crept into a Gown When he by telling of himself fine tales Was made a Judge and sent away to Wales 'T was proper and most fit it should be so Whither should Goats but to the Mountains go On Sim and Simon THough Sim whilst Sim in ill repute did live He yet was but a Knave diminutive But now his name being swell'd two letters bigger Simon 's a Knave at length and not in figure Virelay THou cruel Fair I go To seek out any Fate but thee Since there is none can wound me so Nor that has half thy cruelty Thou cruel Fair I go For ever then farewell â—Tis a long leave I take but oh To tarry with thee here is Hell And twenty thousand Hells to go For ever though farewell Madrigal TO be a Whore despight of Grace Good Counsel and an ugly face And to distribute still the Pox To men of wit Will seem a kind of Paradox And yet Thou art a Whore despight of Grace Good Counsel and an ugly face La Illustrissima On my Fair and Dear Sister Mâ—â— Anne King. OFT have I lov'd but ne'er aright Till th' other day I saw a sight That shot me through through with conq'ring 〈◊〉 A Beauty of so rare a frame As does all other Beauties shame And renders Poetry to praise it lame Poor sotted Poets cease to praise Your Laura's Cynthia's Lydia's Fondly ador'd in your mistaken days Tell me no more of golden hair Of all ill colours the worst wear And renders beauty terrible as fair Almanna's curls are black as night Thorough whose Sable ring 's a white Whiter than whiteness strikes the wounded sight Tell me no more of arched brows Nor henceforth call them Cupid's Bows Which common praise to common form allows Hers shining smooth and black as Jet Short thick and even without â—ret Exceed all Simile and counterâ—eit Study no more for Eulogies For English gray or French blew eyes Which never yet but of a Fool made prize Almanna's eyes are such as none Could ever dare to gaze upon But in a trice he found his heart was gone Those lights the coldest bloud can thaw And hearts by their attraction draw As warm chaf'd Jet licks up a trembling straw No more for cheeks make senseless Posies Of Lillies white and Damask Roses Which more of fancy than of truth discloses In hers Complexion 's mixed so That white and red together grow Like Lovers bloud sprinkled on Virgin Snow Cease cease of Coral Lips to prate Of Rubies and I can't tell what Those Epithets are all grown stale and flat Almanna's rosie lips are such To praise them is for wit too much Till first inspir'd by their most blessed touch No more hang teeth upon a string And ropes of Pearl for Grinders bring Your Treasure is too poor an Offering Comparisons doe hers no right Ivory's yellow in their sight Which are than all things but themselves more white No more of Odours go in quest As â—ar as the remotest East Thence to perfume a Ladies rotten Chest. Her breath much sweeter than the Spring With all it s join'd perfumes can bring Gives life and happy life to ev'ry thing Tell me no more of Swan-white breasts Which you call little Cupid's nests In those you praise fit for such wanton guests Almanna's ten times whiter are Than those of the supremest fair But yet alas no Loves inhabit there Oh! set your wits no more o' th' laste To praise a Nymph's contorted Waste By such admirers fit to be embrac'd Here is a shape and such a one As regulates Proportion And but to see is half Fruition Tell me no more Poetick lies Of hard cold crusted marble thighs Hopeless and fond impossibilities Hers by the rule of Symmetry Although unseen we know must be Above the poor report of Poetry Tell me no more of Legs and Feet Where Grace and Elegancy meet But leave your lying and come here to see 't Here 's shape invention that disgraces And when she moves the charming Graces Both number figure and adjust her paces But to this shape there is a mind From flesh and bloud so well refin'd As renders her the Glory of her Kind On the World's Centre never yet Were Form and Vertue so well met Nor priceless Diamond so neatly set Beauty but Beauty is alone But Fair Almanna's such a one As Earth may glory in and Heav'n may own Almanna is the onely she Deserves the gen'ral Eulogy The praise of all the rest is Poetry Chanson a Boire I. COme let 's mind our drinking Away with this thinking It ne'er that I heard of did any one good Prevents not disaster But brings it on faster Mischance is by mirth and by courage withstooâ— He ne'er can recover The day that is over The present is with us and does threaten no ill He 's a Fool that will sorrow For the thing call'd to morrow But the hour we 've in hand we may weild as we wiâ—â— II. There 's nothing but Bacchus Right merry can make us That vertue particular is to the Vine It fires ev'ry creature With wit and good nature Whose thoughts can be dark when their noses doe shine A night of good drinking Is worth
that I swimming was in Neptune's spight To my long long'd-for Harbour of delight And now I 'm here set down again in peace After my troubles business Voyages The same dull Northern clod I was before Gravely enquiring how Ewes are a Score How the Hay-Harvest and the Corn was got And 〈◊〉 or no there 's like to be a Rot Just the same Sot I was e'er I remov'd Nor by my travel nor the Court improv'd The same old fashion'd Squire no whit refin'd And shall be wiser when the Devil 's blind But find all here too in the self-same state And now begin to live at the old rate To bub old Ale which nonsense does create Write leud Epistles and sometimes translate Old Tales of Tubs of Guyenne and Provence And keep a clutter with th' old Blades of France As D' Avenant did with those of Lombardy Which any will receive but none will buy And that has set H. B. and me awry My River still through the same Chanel glides Clear from the Tumult Salt and dirt of Tides And my poor Fishing-house my Seat's best grace Stands firm and faithfull in the self-same place I left it four months since and ten to one I go a Fishing e'er two days are gone So that my Friend I nothing want but thee To make me happy as I 'd wish to be And sure a day will come I shall be bless'd In his enjoyment whom my heart loves best Which when it comes will raise me above men Greater than crowned Monarchs are and then I 'll not exchange my Cottage for White-hall Windsor the Lauvre or th' Escurial Anacreontick FILL a Boul of lusty Wine Briskest Daughter of the Vine Fill't untill it Sea-like flow That my cheek may once more glow I am fifty Winters old Bloud then stagnates and grows cold And when Youthfull heat decays We must help it by these ways Wine breeds Mirth and Mirth imparts Heat and Courage to our hearts Which in old men else are lead And not warm'd would soon be dead Now I 'm sprightly fill agen Stop not though they mount to ten Though I stagger do not spare 'T is to rock and still my Ear Though I stammer 't is no matter I should doe the same with water When I belch I am but trying How much better 't is than sighing If a tear spring in mine eye 'T is for joy not grief I cry This is living without thinking These are the effects of drinking Fill a main Boy fill a main Whilst I drink I feel no pain Gout or Palsie I have none Hang the Chollick and the Stone I methinks grow young again New bloud springs in ev'ry vein And supply it Sirrah still Whilst I drink you sure may fill If I nod Boy rouse me up With a bigger fuller Cup But when that Boy will not doe Faith e'en let me then goe to For 't is better far too lie Down to sleep than down to dye Burlesque Vpon the Great Frost To Iohn Bradshaw Esq YOU now Sir may and justly wonder That I who did of late so thunder Your frontier Garrison by th'Ferry Should on a sudden grow so weary And thence may raise a wrong conclusion That you have bob'd my Resolution Or else that my Poetick Battery With which so smartly I did patter ye Though I am not in that condition Has shot away her Ammunition Or if in kindness peradventure You are more gentle in your censure That I my writing left pursuing 'Cause I was weary of ill doing Now of these three surmizes any Except the last might pass with many But such as know me of the Nation Know I so hate all Reformation Since so much harm to doe I 've seen it That in my self I 'll ne'er begin it And should you under your hand give it Not one of twenty would believe it But I must tell you in brief Clauses If you to any of these Causes Impute the six weeks Truce I 've given That you are wide Sir the whole Heaven For know though I appear less eager I never mean to raise my Leaguer Till or by storm or else by Famine I force you to the place I am in Your self sans Article to tender Unto Discretion to surrender Where see what comes of your vain glory To make me lie so long before ye To shew you next I want no pouder I thus begin to batter louder And for the last vain Hope that fed ye I think I 've answer'd it already Now to be plain although your Spirit Will ill I know endure to hear it You must of force at least miscarry For reasons supernumerary And though I know you will be striving To doe what lies in mortal living And may it may be a month double To lie before you give me trouble Though with the stronger men but vapour ill And hold out stiff till th' end of April Or possibly a few days longer Yet then you needs must yield for hunger When having eaten all Provisions Y' are like to make most brave Conditions Now having friendship been so just to To tell you what y' are like to trust to I 'll next acquaint you with one reason I've let you rest so long a season And that my Muse has been so idle Know Pegasus has got a Bridle A Bit and Curb of crusted water Or if I call 't plain Ice no matter With which he now is so commanded His days of galloping are ended Unless I with the spur do prick him Nay rather though I whip and kick him He who unbidden us'd to gambol Can now nor prance nor trot nor amble Nor stir a foot to take his airing But stands stiff froze like that at Charing With two feet up two down 't is pitty He 's not erected in the City But to leave fooling I assure ye There never was so cold a Fury Of nipping Frost and pinching weather Since Eve and Adam met together Our Peak that always has been famous For cold wherewith to cramp and lame us Worse than it self did now resemble a Certain damn'd place call'd Nova Zembla And we who boast us humane Creatures Had happy been had we chang'd features Garments at least though theirs be shabbed With those who that cold place inhabit The Bears and Foxes who sans question Than we by odds have warmer Vests on How cold that Country is he knows most Has there his Fingers and his Toes lost But here I know that every Member Alike was handled by December Who blew his nose had clout or fist all Instead of snivel fill'd with Crystal Who drew for Urinal ejection Was b'witch'd into an odd erection And these Priapus like stood strutting Fitter for Pedestal than rutting As men were fierce or gentle handed Their Fists were clutch'd or Palms expanded Limbs were extended or contracted As use or humour most affected For as men did to th' air expose 'em It catch'd and in that figure froze 'em Of which think me not over ample If I produce
doggrel she said would not doâ—â— It needs must be galloping doggrel to boot For Amblers and Trotters tho' th' had thousands of feet Could never however be made to be fleet But would make so damnable slow a progression They'd noâ— reach up to Westminster till the next Session Thus then unto thee my dear Brother and Sweeting In Canterbury Verse I send health and kind greeting Wishing thee honour but if thou bee'st cloy'd we't Above what thy Ancestâ—y ever enjoy'd yet May'st thou 〈◊〉 where â—ow seated without fear of blushing Till thy little fat 〈…〉 grow to the cushin Give his Majesty Moâ—y no mattter who pays it For we never can want it â—o long as he has it But wer 't Wisdom to trust sawcy Counsel in Letters I 'de advise thee beware falling out with thy betters I have heard of two Dogs once that fought for a bone But the Proverb 's so greazy I 'll let it alone A word is enough to the wise then resent it A rash Act than mended is sooner repented And as for the thing call'd a Traytor if any Be prov'd to be such as I doubt there 's too many Let him e'en be hang'd up and never be pray'd for What a pox were blocks gibbets and gallowses made for But I grow monstrous weary and how should I chuse This galloping Rhyme has quite jaded my Muse And I swear if thou look'st for more posting of hers Little K nt thou must needs lend her one of thy Spurs Farewel then dear Bully but ne're look for a Name For expecting no honour I will have no shame Yet that you may ghess at the Party that writes t' ee And not grope in the dark I 'll hold up these Lights t' ee For his Stature he 's but a contemptible Male And grown something swab with drinking good Ale His Looks than your brown a little thought brighter Which gray hairs make every year whiter whiter His Visage which all the rest mainly disgraces Is warp't or by Age or cutting of Faces So that whether 't were made so or whether 't were marr'd In good sooth he 's a very unpromising Bard His Legs which creep out of two old-fashion'd Knapsacks Are neither two Mill-posts nor yet are they trap-sticks They bear him when sober bestir 'em and spare not And who the Devil can stand when they are not Thus much for his Person now for his condition That 's sick enough full to require a Physician He always wants Mony which makes him want ease And he 's always besieg'd tho himself of the Peace By an Army of Duns who batter with Scandals And are Foemen more fierce than the Goths or the Vandals But when he does sally as somtimes he does Then hey for Bess Iuckson and a Fig for his Foes He 's good Fellow enough to do every one right And never was first that ask't what time of Night His delight is to toss the Cann merrily round And loves to be wet but hates to be drow'nd He fain would be just but sometimes he cannot Which gives him the trouble that other men ha' not He honours his Friend but he wants means to show it And loves to be rhyming but is the worst Poet. Yet among all these Vices to give him his due He has the Vertue to be a true Lover of you But how much he loves you he says you may ghess it Since nor Prose nor yet Meeter he swears can express it Stances de Monsieur Bertaud I. WHilst wishing Heaven in his ire Would punish with some Judgment dire This heart to Love so obstinate To say I love her is to lye Though I do love t' Extremity Since thus to love her is to hate II. But since from this my hatred Springs That she neglects my Sufferings And is unto my love ingrate My hatred is so full of flame Since from affection first it came That 't is to love her thus to hate III. I wish that milder Love or Death That ends our miseries with our Breath Would my Afflictions terminate For to my Soul depriv'd of peace It is a torment worse than these Thus wretchedly to love and hate IV. Let Love be gentle or severe It is in vain to hope or fear His grace or rage in this Estate Being I from my fair ones Spirit Nor mutual Love nor hatred merit Thus sencelesly to Love and Hate V. Or if by my Example here It just and equal do appear She love and loath who is my Fate Grant me ye Powers in this case Both for my punishment and grace That as I do she Love and Hate Contentment Pindarick Ode I. THou precious Treasure of the peaceful mind Thou Jewel of Inestimable price Thou bravest Soul 's Terrestrial Paradice Dearest Contentment thou best happiness That Man on Earth can know Thou greatest gift Heav'n can on Man bestow And greater than Man's Language can express Where highest Epithets would fall so low As only in our dearth of words to show A part of thy perfection a poor part Of what to us what in thy self thou art What Sin has banisht thee the World And in thy stead despairing Sorrow hurld Into the breasts of Humane kind Ah whether art thou fled who can this Treasure find II. No more on Earth now to be found Thou art become a hollow sound The empty name of something that of old Mankind was happy in but now Like a vain Dream or Tale that 's told Art vanisht hence we know not how Oh fatal loss for which we are In our own thoughts at endless War And each one by himself is made a Sufferer III. Yet 't were worth seeking if a Man knew where Or could but ghess of whom t' enquire But 't is not to be found on Earth I fear And who can best direct will prove a Lyar Or be himself the first deceiv'd By none but who 'd be cheated too to be believ'd IV. Shew me that Man on Earth that does prosess To have the greatest share of happiness And let him if he can Forbear to shew the Discontented Man A few hours Observation will declare Hee is the same that others are Riches will cure a Man of being poor But oft creates a thirst of having more And makes the Miser starve and pine amidst his store V. Or if a plentiful Estate In a good Mind good Thoughts create A generous Soul and free Will Mourn at least though not repine To want an overflowing Mine Still to supply a constant Charity Which still is Discontent what e're the Motive be VI. Th' ambitious who to place aspire When rais'd to that they did pretend Are restless still would still be higher For that 's a Passion has no end 'T is the minds Wolf a strange Disease That ev'n Saciety can't appease An Appetite of such a kind As does by feeding still increase And is to eat the more it eats inclin'd As the Ambitious mount the Sky New prospects still allure the Eye Which makes them upwards still
dull became In sovereign Sack thou did'st an Eye-salve seek And stol'st a blest dew from her rosie Cheek When straight thy lids a chearful vigour wore More quick and penetrating than before I saw the sprightly Grape in glory rise And with her Day thy drooping Night surprize So that where now a giddy darkness dwells Brightness now breaks through liquid Spectacles Had Adam known this cure in Paradice He 'd scap'd the Tree and drunk to clear his Eyes The Separation I. I Ghess'd none wretched in his love But who his Mistress's scorn did prove Nor judg'd him happy but whose fire Was paid with mutual desire But sad Experience tells In both extreams there dwells A destiny which so malignant is To make Man wretched in his greatest bliss II. The brightest Beauty I adore That consecrated Earth e're bore The sweetest Person fairest Mind That ever met in Woman-kind And which afflicts me am Met with an equal flame For had she hated me her scorn might have Condemn'd my Infant-love to its blest Grave III. But such 't is nourisht by her grace As Time nor Objects can deface To such a faith as cannot be Compell'd from its Integrity But oh th' unwelcome cause Of superstitious Laws That us from our mutual Embraces tear And separates our bloods because too near Another of the same I. AT what a wild malicious rate Blind cruel Deity Do thy keen Arrows fly Sure th' art not God of Love but Hate Bold Tyrant-Child that can'st endure To make a Wound admits no Cure. II. An Happiness can wait upon Strangers that distant are As North and Southern Star But we though born under one Zone Who in one Root one Cradle lay In Love must be less blest than they III. Ah! that 's the cause why we must run Like streams sprung from one Source Each in a various course The fiction Incest so to shun When better that we mixt it were Than other Rivers ravish't her But I 'll pursue her till our floods agree Alpheus I and Arethâ—sa she On the great Eater of Grays-Inn OH for a lasting wind that I may rail At this vile Cormorant this Harpey-male That can with such an hungry hast devour A years Provision in one short liv'd hour Prodigious Calf of Pharoah's lean-rib'd Kine That swallowest Beef at every bit a Chine Yet art thy self so meagre Men may see Approaching Famine in thy Phys'nomy The World may yet rejoice thou wer 't not one That shar'd Ioves mercy with Deucalion Had he thy grinders trusted in that boat Where the whole Worlds Epitomy did float Clean and Unclean had dy'd th' Earth found a wanâ— Of her irrational Inhabitant 'T is doubted there their fury had not cea'st But of the humane part too made a Feast How Fruitless then had been Heaven's charity No Man on earth had liv'd nor Beast but thee Had'st thou been one to feed upon the fare Stor'd by old Priam for the Grecian War He and his Sons had soon been made a prey Troys ten years Siege had lasted but one day Or thou might'st have preserv'd them and at once Chop 't up Achilles and his Mirmydons Had'st thou been Bell sure thou had'st sav'd the Lives O' th' cheating Priests their Children and their Wiveâ— But at this rate 't would be a heavy tax For Hercules himself to cleanse thy jakes Oh! that kind Heav'n to give to thee would please An Estridge-maw for then we should have peace Swords then or shining Engines would be none No Guns to thunder out Destruction No rugged Shackles would be extant then Nor tedious Grates that limit free-born Men But thy Gut-pregnant womb thy paws do fill With spoils of Natures good and not her ill 'T was th' Inns of Courts improvidence to own Thy Wolvish Carcase for a Son ' o th' Gown The danger of thy jaws they ne're foresaw For Faith I think thou hast devour'd the Law. No wonder th' art complain'd of by the Rout When very Curs begin to smell thee out The reasons Southwark rings with howlings are Because thou rob'st the Bull-Dogs of their share Beastly Consumer not content to eat The wholesome quarters destin'd for Mens meat But Excrement and all nor wilt thou â—ate One entrail to inform us of thy Fate Which will I hope be such an ugly Death As hungry Beggars can in cursings breath But I have done my Muse can scold no more She to the Bearwards Sentence turns thee o're And since so great 's thy Stomach's tyranny For writing this pray God thou eat not me An Epitaph on my Dear Aunt Mrs. Ann Stanhope FOrbear bold Passenger forbear The verge of this sad Sepulchre Put off thy shooes nor dare to tread The Hallowed Earth where she lyes dead For in this Vault the Magazine Of Female virtue 's stor'd and in This Marble Casket is confin'd The Iewel of all Woman-kind For here she lies whose Spring was Crown'd With every grace in Beauty found Whose Summer to that Spring did suit Whose Autumn crackt with happy Fruit. Whose Fall was like her Life so spent Exemplary and Excellent For here the fairest chastest Maid That this Age ever knew is laid The best of Kindred best of Friends of most Faith and of fewest Ends Whose Fame the Tracks of Time survives The best of Mothers best of Wives Lastly which the whole Sum of praise implies Here she who was the best of Women lies SONG Set by Mr. Coleman I. SEE how like Twilight Slumber falls T' obscure the glory of those balls And as she sleeps See how Light creeps Thorow the Chinks and Beautifies The rayie fringe of her fair Eyes II. Observe Loves feuds how fast they fly To every heart from her clos'd Eye What then will she When waking be A glowing Light for all t' admire Such as would set the World on fire III. Then seal her Eye-lids gentle Sleep Whiles cares of her mine open keep Lock up I say Those Doors of Day Which with the Morn for Lustre strive That I may look on her and live An Epitaph on M. H. IN this cold Monument lies one That I know who has lain upon The happier He her Sight would charm And Touch have kept King David warm â—ovely as is the dawning East â—as this Marble's frozen Guest â—s soft and Snowy as that Down â—dorns the Blow-balls frizled Crown â—s straight and slender as the Crest â—r Antlet of the one beam'd Beast 〈◊〉 as th' odorous Month of May â—s glorious and a light as Day Whom I admir'd as soon as knew â—nd now her Memory pursue â—ith such a superstitious Lust â—hat I could fumble with her Dust. She all Perfections had and more â—â—empting as if design'd a Whore 〈◊〉 so she was and since there are 〈◊〉 I could wish them all as fair Pretty she was and young and wise And in her Calling so precise That Industry had made her prove The sucking School-Mistress of Love And Death ambitious to become Her Pupil left his Ghastly home And seeing how we
Passion My Star my bright Magnetick Pole And only Gâ—idress of my Soul. Thyr. Let Caelia be thy Cynosure Chloe's my Pole too though th' obscure For though her self 's all glorious My Earth 'twixt us does interpose Dam. Obscure indeed since she 's but one To mine a Constellation Her Lights throughout so glorious are That every part 's a perfect Star. Thyr. Then Caelia's Perfections Are scatter'd Chloe's like the Suns United Light compacted lye Whence all that feel their force must dye Dam. Caelia's Beauties are too bright To be contracted in one Light Nor does my fair her Rays dispence With such a stabbing Influence Since 't is her less imperious Will To save her Lovers and not kill Thyr. Each beam of her united Light Is than the greatest Star more bright And if she stay it is from hence She darts too sweet an Influence We Surfeit with 't weak Eyes must shun The dazling Glories of the Sun. Perhaps if Caelia do not kill 'T is want of Power not of Will. Dam. I now perceive thy Chloe's Eyes To be no Stars but Prodigies Comets such as blazing stand To threaten ruin to a Land Beacons of sulph'rous Flame they are Symptoms not of Peace but War And thou I guess by singing thus Thence stoll'st thine Ignis fatuâ—s Thyr. As th' vulgar are amaz'd at th' Sun When tripled by reflection Câ—loe's self and glorious Eyes To thee seem Comets in the Skies And true they may portend some Wars Such as 'twixt Venus and her Mars But chast whose captivating Bands Would People and not ruin Lands With such a Going fire I 'll stray For who with it can lose his way Dam. The Vulgar may perhaps be won By thee to think her Sun and Moon And so would I but that my more Convincing Caelia I adore Would we had both that Chloe thine And my dear Caelia might be mine But if we should thus mix with Ray In Heav'n would be no Night but Day For we should People all the Skies With Plannet-Girls and Starry-Boyes Chloe's a going-fire we see Pray Pan she do not go from thee Thyr. Thanks Damon but she does I fear The Shadows now so long appear Yet if she do we 'll both find Day â—'â—h ' Sun-shine of thy Caelia Her Sigh I. SHE sighs and has blown over now The storms that thrat'ned in her brow The Heaven 's now serene and clear And bashful blushes do appear Th' Errour sh' has found That did me wound Thus with her od'rous Sigh my hopes are crown'd II. Now she relents for now I hear Repentance whisper in my Ear Happy repentance that begets By this sweet Airy motion heats And does destroy Her Heresie That my Faith branded with Inconstancy III. When Thisbe's Pyramus was slain This sigh had fetcht him back again And such a sigh from Dido's Chest Wasted the Trojan to her Breast Each of her sighs My Love does prize Reward for thousand thousand Cruelties IV. Sigh on my Sweet and by thy Breath Immortal grown I 'll laugh at Death Had Fame so sweet a one we shou'd In that regard learn to be good Sigh on my Fair Henceforth I swear I could Cameleon turn and live by Air On the Lamented Death of my Dear Uncle Mr. Radcliff Stanhope SUch is th' unsteddy state of humane things And Death so certain that their period brings So frail is Youth and strength so sure this sleep That much we cannot wonder though we weep Yet since 't is so it will not misbecom Either perhaps our Sorrows or his Tomb To breath a Sigh and drop a mourning Tear Upon the cold face of his Sepulcher Well did his life deserve it if to be A great Example of Integrity Honour and Truth Fidelity and Love In such perfection as if each had strove T'out-do Posterity may deserve our care Or to his Funeral command a Tear Faithful he was and just and sweetly good To whom ally'd in Virtue or in Blood His Breast from other conversation chast Above the reach of giddy Vice was plac't Then had not Death that crops in 's Savage speed The fairest flower with the rankest weed Thus made a beastly Conquest of his Prime And cut him off before grown ripe for Time How bright an Evening must this Morn pursue Is to his Life a Contemplation due Proud Death t' arrest his thriving Virtue thus Unhappy Fate not to himself but us That so have lost him for no doubt but he Was fit for Heav'n as years could make him be Age does but muster Sin and heap up woes Against the last and general Rendezvous Whereas he dy'd full of obedient Truth Wrap't in his spotless Innocence of Youth Farewell Dear Vncle may thy hop'd for Bliss To thee be real as my Sorrow is May they be nam'd together since I do Nothing more perfect than my sorrow know And if thy Soul into mens minds have Eyes It knows I truly weep these Obsequies On the Lord Derby TO what a formidable greatness grown Is this prodigious Beast Rebellion When Sovereignty and it s so sacred Law Thus lies subjected to his Tyrant awe And to what daring impudence he grows When not content to trample upon those He still destroys all that with honest flames Of loyal Love would propagate their Names In this great ruin Derby lay thy Fate Derby unfortunately fortunate Unhappy thus to fall a Sacrifice To such an Irreligious Power as this And blest as 't was thy nobler sence to dye A constant Lover of thy Loyalty Nor is it thy Calamity alone Since more lye whelm'd in this Subversion And first the justest and the best of Kings Roab'd in the glory of his Sufferings By his too violent Fate inform'd us all What tragick ends attended his great fall Since when his Subjects some by chance of War Some by perverted justice at the Bar Have perish't thus what th' other leaves this takes And who so scapes the Sword falls by the Axe Amongst which throng of Martyrs none could boast Of more fidelity than the world has lost In losing thee when in contempt of spite Thy steddy faith at th'exit crown'd with Light His Head above their malice did advance They could not murder thy Allegiance Not when before those Iudges brought to th'test Who in the symptomes of thy ruin drest Pronounc't thy Sentence Basilisks whose Breath Is killing Poyson and whose Looks are Death Then how unsafe a Guard Man's virtue is Iâ— this false Age when such as do amiss Controul the honest sort and make a prey Of all that are not villanous as they Does to our Reasons Eyes too plain appear In the mischance of this Illustrious Peer Blood-thirsty Tyrants of usurped State In facts of Death prompt and insatiate That in your Flinty Bosoms have no sence Of Manly Honour or of Conscience But do since Monarchy lay drown'd in Blood Proclaim 't by Act high Treason to be good Cease yet at last for shame let Derby's fall Great and good Derby's expiate for all
Huntress scours her ways And through Night's vail her horns displays I have a Bower for my Love Hid in the Center of a Grove Of aged Oaks close from the sight Of all the prying Eyes of Night The polish'd Walls of Marble be Pillaster'd round with porphyry Casements of Chrystal to transmit Night 's sweets to thee and thine to it Fine silver Locks to Ebon Doors Rich gilded Roofs and Cedar Floors With all the Objects may express A pleasing Solitariness Within my Love shall find each room New furnish'd from the Silk-worms Loom Vessels of the true antick mold Cups cut in Amber Myrrh and Gold Quilts blown with Roses Beds with Down More white than Atlas aged Crown Carpets where Flowers woven grow Only thy sweeter steps to strew Such as may emulation bring To the wrought mantle of the Spring There silver Lamps shall silent shine Supply'd by Oyls of Iessamine And mists of Odours shall arise To air thy little Paradise I have such Fruits too for thy taste As teeming Autumn never grac't Apples as round as thine own Eyes Or as thy Sister Beauties prize Smooth as thy snowy Skin and sleek And ruddy as the Morning's cheek Grapes that the Tyrian purple wear The spritely Matrons of the Year Such as Lyoeus never bare About his drowsy Brows so fair So plump so large so ripe so good So full of flavour and of blood There 's Water in a Grot hard by To quench thee when with dalliance dry Sweet as the Milk of Sand-red Cow Brighter than Cynthi'as silver Bow Cold as the Goddess self e'er was And clearer than thy Looking-glass But oh the summ of all delight For which the Day submits to Night Is that my Phillis thou wilt find When we are in embraces twin'd Pleasures that so have tempted Iove To all his Masquerades of Love For them the Prince his purple waves And strips him naked as his Slaves 'T is they that teach humanity The thing we love the reason why Before we livâ— but ne'er 'till then Are females Women or males Men This is the way and this the trade That does perfect what nature made Then go but first thy beauties skreen Lest they that revell on the Lawns The Nymphs the Satyrs and the Fawns Adore thee for Nights horned Queen To Coelia ODE I. WHen Coelia must my old Days set And my young morning rise In beams of Joy so bright as yet Ne're blest a Lover's eyes My state is more advanc'd than when I first attempted thee I su'd to be a Servant then But now to be made free II. I 've serv'd my time faithfull and true Expecting to be plac't In happy freedom as my due To all the joys thou hast Ill husbandry in love is such A scandal to Loves pow'r We ought not to mispend so much As one poor short-liv'd hour III. Yet think not sweet I 'me weary grown That I pretend such haste Since none to surfeit e're was known Before he had a taste My infant love could humbly wait When young it scarce knew how To plead but grown to Man's estate He is impatient now To Cupid O D E. I. FOnd Love deliver up thy Bow I am become more Love than thou I am as wanton grown and wild Much less a Man and more a Child From Venus born of chaster kind A better Archer though as blind II. Surrender without more ado I am both King and Subject too I will command but must obey I am the Hunter and the Prey I vanquish yet am overcome And sentencing receive my doom III. No springing Beauty scapes my Dart And ev'ry ripe one wounds my Heart Thus whilst I wound I wounded am And firing others turn to flame To shew how far love can combine The Mortal part with the Divine IV. Faith quit thine Empire and come down That thou and I may share the Crown I 've try'd the worst thy arms can do Come then and taste my power too Which howsoe're it may fall short Will doubtless prove the better sport V. Yet do not for in Field and Town The Females are so loving grown So kind or else so lustful we Can neither err though neither see Keep then thine own Dominions Lad Two Loves would make all Women mad The Tempest I. STanding upon the Margent of the main Whilst the high boiling tyde came tumbling in I felt my fluctuating thoughts maintain As great an Ocean and as rude within As full of waves of depths and broken grounds As that which daily laves her chalky bounds II. â—oon could my sad imagination find A parallel to this half world of Flood An Ocean by my walls of Earth confin'd And Rivers in the chanells of my blood Discov'ring Man unhappy Man to be Of this great Frame Heavens Epitome III. There pregnant Argosies with full Sails ride To shoot the Gulphs of sorrow and despair Of which the Love no Pilot has to Guide But to her Sea-born Mother steers by pray'r When oh the Hope her anchor lost undone Rowls at the mercy of the Regent Moon IV. T is my ador'd Diana then must be The Guidress to this beaten Bark of mine 'T is she must calm and smooth this troubled Sea And wast my hope over the vaulting Brine Call home thy venture Dian then at last And be as merciful as thou art chast The Litany I. FRom a Ruler that 's a curse And a Government that 's worse From a Prince that rules by awe Whose Tyranick Will 's his Law From an armed Councel board And a Scepter that 's a Sword Libera nos c II. From a Kingdom that from health Sickens to a Common-wealth From such Peers as stain their blood And are neither wise nor good From a Gentry steept in Pots From unkennellers of Plots Libera nos c. III. From a Church without Divines And a Presbyter that whines From Iohn Calvin and his Pupils From a Sentence without Scruples From a Clergy without Letters And a Free-State bound in Fetters Libera nos c. IV. From the bustle of the Town And the Knavish Tribe o' th' Gown From long Bills where we are Debters From Bum-Bailiffs and their Setters From the tedious City Lectures And Thanksgivings for Protectors Libera nos c. V. From ill Victuals when we dine And a Tavern with ill Wine From vile Smoke in a short Pipe And a Landlord that will gripe From long Reck'nings and a Wench That Claps in English or in French Libera nos c. VI. From Demeans whose barren soil Ne're produc'd the Barley Oyl From a Friend for nothing fit That nor Courage has nor Wit From all Lyars and from those Who write nonsence Verse or Prose Libera nos c. VII From a Virgin that 's no Maid From a kicking stumbling Jade From false Servants and a Scold From all Women that are old From loud Tongues that never lye And from a domestick Spy Libera nos c. VIII From a domineering Spouse From a smoky durty House From foul Linnen and the
and uncontrouled flow Then let our Cups my Hearts be so â—â—gin the Frolick send the Liquor round And as our King our Cups be crown'd â—o Boy and peirce the old Faternian Wine And make us Chaplets from the Vine Range through the drowsy Vessels of the Cave Till we an Inundation have Spare none of all the Store but ply thy Task Till Bachus Throne be empty Cask But let the Must alone for that we find Will leave a Crapula behind Our Griefs once made us thirsty and our Ioy If not allay'd may now destroy Light up the silent Tapers let them shine To give Complexion to our Wine Fill each a Pipe of the rich Indian Fume To vapour Incense in the Room That we may in that artificial Shade Drink all a Night our selves have made No Cup shall be discharg'd whilst round we sit Without a smart report of Wit Whilst our Inventions quickned thus and warm Hit all they fly at but not harm For it Wit 's mastry is and chiefest Art To tickle all but make none smart Thus shall our Draughts and Conversation be Equally innocent and free Our Loyalty the Center we the Ring Drink round and Changes to the King Let none avoid dispute or dread his Cups The strength or quantity he sups Our Brains of Raptures full and so divine Have left no room for fumes of Wine And though we drink like Free-men of the Deep We 'll scorn the frail support of Sleep For whilst with Charles his presence we are blest Security shall be our rest Anacreon come and touch thy jolly Lyre And bring in Horace to the Quire Mould all our Healths in your immortal Rythme Who cannot sing shall drink in time We 'll be one Harmony one Mirth one Voice One Love one Loyalty one Noise Of Wit and Joy one Mind and that as free As if we all one Man could be Drown'd be past Sorrows with our future Care For if we know how blest we are A knowing Prince at last is wasted home That can prevent as over come Make then our Injuries and Harms to be The Chorus to our Jollity And from those Iron times past Woes recall Extract one Mirth to ballance all On Tobacco WHat horrid sin condemn'd the teeming Earth And curst her womb with such a monstrous Birth What Crime America that Heav'n would please To make thee Mother of the World's disease In thy fair Womb what accidents could breed What Plague give root to this pernicious Weed Tobacco Oh the very name doth kill And has already fox't my `reeling Quill I now could write Libels against the King Treason or Blasphemy or any thing ` Gainst Piety and Reason I could frame A Panegyre to the Protector 's Name 〈◊〉 â—ly infiction does the World infuse 〈◊〉 the Soul of ev'ry modest Muse What politick Peregrine was 't first could boast 〈◊〉 bought a Pest into his native Coast â—Th ' abstract of Poyson in a stinking Weed â—The spurious Issue of corrupted Seed 〈◊〉 belch't in Earthquakes from the dark Abyss â—hose Name a blot in Nature's Herbal is What drunken Fiend taught English-men the Crime Thus to puff out and spawl away their time Pernicious Weed should not my Muse offend To say Heav'n made ought for a cruel end 〈◊〉 should proclaim that thou created wer't To ruin Man's high and immortal part Thy Stygyan damp obscures our Reason's Eye Debauches Wit and makes Invention dry Destroys the Memory confounds our Care We know not what we do or what we are Reâ—ders our Faculties and Members lame To ev'ry office of our Country's claim Our Life 's a drunken Dream devoy'd of Sense And the best Actions of our time offence Our Health Diseases Lethargies and Rhume Our Friendship 's Fire and all our Vows are Fume Of late there 's no such things as Wit or Sense Councel Instruction or Intelligence Discourse that should distinguish Man from Beast Is by the vapour of this VVeed supprest For what we talk is interrupted stuff The one half English and the other Puff Freedom and Truth are things we do not know VVe know not what we say nor what we do VVe want in all the Understanding's light We talk in Clouds and walk in endless Night VVe smoke as if we meant conceal'd by spell To spy abroad yet be invisible But no discovery shall the Statesman boast VVe raise a mist wherein our selves are lost A stinking shade and whilst we pipe it thus Each one appears an Ignis fatâ—us Courtier and Pesant nay the Madam Nice Is likewise fall'n into the common Vice VVe all in dusky Error groping lye Rob'd of our Reasons and the days bright Eye VVhilst Sailers from the Main-top see our Isle VVrapt up in Smoak like the Aetnean Pile VVhat nameless Ill does its Contagion shrow'd 〈◊〉 the dark Mantle of this noisom Cloud 〈◊〉 `t is the Devil Oh I know that 's it 〈◊〉 How the Sulphur makes me Cough and Spit â—Tis he or else some Fav'rit Feind at least 〈◊〉 all the Mischief of his Malice drest 〈◊〉 deadly Sin that lurks t'intrap the Soul Does here conceal'd in curling Vapours rowl And for the Body such an unknown ill 〈◊〉 makes Physitians reading and their skill One undistinguisht Pest made up of all That Men experienc'd do Diseases call Coughs Astma's Apoplexies Fevers Rhume 〈◊〉 that kill dead or lingeringly consume 〈◊〉 and Madness nay the Plague the Pox And ev'ry Fool wears a Pandora's Box. 〈◊〉 that rich Mine the stupid Sot doth fill Smokes up his Liver and his Lungs until 〈◊〉 reeking Nostrils monstr ' ously proclaim 〈◊〉 Brains and Bowels are consuming Flame VVhat noble Soul would be content to dwell In the dark Lanthorn of a smoky Cell To prostitute his Body and his Mind To a Debaâ—ch of such a Stinking kind To sacrifice to Molech and to fry In such a base dirty Idolatry As if frail life which of its self 's too short VVere to be whift away in drunken sport Thus as if weary of our destin'd years VVe burn the Thread so to prevent the Shears VVhat noble end can simple Man propose For a reward to his all-smoking Nose His purposes are levell'd sure amiss VVhere neither Ornament nor Pleasure is VVhat can he then design his worthy hire Sure `t is t'inâ—ure him for eternal fire And thus his aim must admirably thrive In hopes of Hell he damns himself alive But my infected Muse begins to choke In the vile stink of the encreasing Smoke And can no more in equal numbers chime Unless to sneeze and cough and spit in Rythme Half stiâ—led now in this new times Disease She must in fumo vanish and decease This is her faults excuse and her pretence This Satyr perhaps else had lookt like Sense Laura Sleeping ODE I. WInds whisper gently whilst she sleeps And fan her with your cooling wings VVhilst she her drops of Beauty weeps From pure and yet unrivall'd Springs II. Glide over Beauties Field her Face To kiss her Lip and Cheek be bold
grasp the Sceptre and usurp his place Could they once get Henry of Valois down Then King and last of that Illustrious Race A Prince in Prudence and in Arms as great As Europe boasted in a Regal State. VII Three were the ruffling Brothers that durst rise In opposition to the Royal Line The First and Chiefest Hâ—nry Duke of Guise To whom the others Charles and Lewis joyn Lewis a Cardinal more Bold than Wise Charles Duke of Mayne Third in this great Design In League Compacted so they call'd their Cause Against Obedience and her sacred Laws VIII Nor was their Pow'r so trivial as to be Crusht by the Kings Authority or force So well 't was strength'ned by the Papal Sea Whence 't is conceiv'd this Faction had its Source But must be undermin'd by Policy For this engaged Crown the only Course So great and many the Confed'rates were Who stood in favour of this haughty Peer IX Wherefore the King did in his Prudence chuse The help of Policy where Arms were vain And knew so well his wary Councels use That Duke and Prelate at his Foot lay slain When from his Juster Fate the Third broke lose Did then sole Head of the whole League remain Employing all his Courage and his Art To seal his Vengeance on his Prince's Heart X. And in his Enterprize was gone so far The King was forc't to call into his Cause Henry of Burbon then King of Navar His true Successor by the Salique Laws Who then against him made defensive War Him to his Service by command he draws So soon can Vertuous Princes learn t' obey And humbly bow when they have Pow'r to sway XI The Royal Arms thus reinforc't begin In conduct of these Princely Generals To take the Field some Towns and Pris'ners win No Force resists them no Design forestals Till at the last they shut the Leaguers in And lay close seige to Paris spatious Walls In whose Defence and Strength the Duke at last His latest refuge and his safety plac't XII Nor were those Walls or the Parisians aid True to the League but treach'rous to the State Enough to stop the Power did invade Or to divert a Rebels juster Fate Had not the League by Combination made On Henry's Life a foul Assassinate Who in the Centre of his own command Fell by the stroke of an ignoble Hand XIII Then at the Helm alone great Burbon stood Undoubted Heir unto the Crowns of France Great in his Name in Arms and great in Blood Though something shaken by the King's mischance For why the Peers serve nor obey him would Unless he would the Roman Faith advance Too hard a Contract for a King to make Though Life and Honor lie engag'd at Stake XIV His just repulse to their unjust demands Soon chang'd the Scene beyond all humane aim For though he won some honest Hearts and Hands T' acknowledge and assist his lawful claim Yet in few days so lessen'd were his Bands To his Abandoners Eternal Shame That he was forc'd his Conquest to decline And build his Fortunes on some new Design XV. T' were tedious to relate the Battails Fought The Towns beleaguer'd and the Cities won The hauhgty Rebels to subjection brought By this brave Leader Honors Eldest Son Acts that indeed exceed belief or thought By mature Councels and great Courage done The dangerous paths to Honor and Renown He trod before he could atchieve the Crown XVI Nor falls it in the Sphere of my design To mention each of Boâ—rbon's noble Acts So high attempts I humbly shall decline And leave those Annals to their better Tracts Who me and my poor Muse as far out-shine As Henry in his Celebrated Facts The lesser sparks of Honor does out-flame And swallows all their Titles in his Name XVII One day there was wherein his Valour shone A Pyramid of inextinguish'd Fire Wherein Immortal Glory or there 's none By dint of Sword he bravely did acquire To that one days great History alone This Poem impotently shall aspire A day above the Trophies of the Pen A Prince above the Characters of Men. XVIII Many the Conflicts were various the Chance Betwixt the Seige of Paris and the Fight In Yvry-Plain that goar'd the Womb of France With Fire and Blood betwixt the Wrong and Right E're both the Armies to that Field advance One to Pursue t'other Pretending flight Their num'rous odds had raised the League so high As to pursue him that could never fly XIX Two Nights before these angry Armies met Th' uncertain chance of Bloody War to try All-seeing Heav'n his dire portents had set Oraculous Symptoms in the troubled Sky The naked Surface of the Earth was wet With Storm and Tempest and a Prodigy Succeeded in the Air to shew the King How to his aid Heav'n did assistance bring XX. Two Puissant Armies in the Sky appear'd To shoot in Thunder and with Lightning kill In color like the Comets streaming Beard Which great events in Battail ushers still By most Men doubted and by many feared All were suspended at th' Almighty's will Yet such their Leader was their Cause so Just They unto Providence and Valour trust XXI The Slothful Sun rose to his daily round All Night disturb'd with riots in the Air When both the Hosts his drowsy Eye had found Imploring Conquest in diff'rent Pray'r And now they both march to the destin'd Ground Where Fate their different Fortunes does prepare Both Arm'd for the Disasters and the Harms That still attend th' uncertain chance of Arms. XXII The Field where this great Game was to be try'd In a round Form does a large Plot contain A Stage of Honor spatious and wide Where Souldiers may Eternal Glory gain Two little Towns did bound the Royal side And on the Dukes a Grove shut up the Plain Towards the West the lodging of the Sun The River Eure in a deep vale doth run XXIII A place so form'd by Nature as not Art Could smooth it plainer to so brave an end In which no craggy or deform'd part Could either side advantage or offend Save that a little dimple in the Heart Did with a gentle fall it self extend A worthy Theatre whereon to play The Tragick entrys of a Bloody day XXIV â—â—ustrious Bourbon was the first that took â— brave Possession of the Fatal place â—et down in Destiny's eternal Book â—o his Renown and to the Duke's Disgrace â—ho in the King 's victorious Arms mistook â—s of a flying Foe pursu'd the Chase So far did Fate and Odds seem to combine In help and favour of his black Design XXV â—or the Royal Muster did appear â—ght thousand Foot and but three thousand Horse â—he League above double the Number were â—â—ch inequality was in their Force â—he Rebel Crew were more that crowded there â— number better but in Courage worse For they with Henry who so oft had fought So far from Fear were they disdain'd to doubt XXVI Now on the Plain the Royal Standard stands Waving the
behind XLVI The Leaguers Force thus order'd gently moves Scorning in such a Glorious hour to breathe The Mother Earth spurn d by the armed Hooves In dire ostent mournfully Groans beneath Whilst each like Fire by agitation proves Prompter to snatch from others head the Wreath Then Face to Face both Armies in Array Stand to attempt the Fortune of the Day XLVII And now Heav'ns Lamp unwilling to behold The bloody Conflict prest to be begun Shading with Clouds his Locks of burning Gold Stept into Night before his course was run The dusky Hemisphere in darkness roll'd Withheld the tryal until the Morning Sun When each in equal favour of the light Might have the day bright Umpire of their Fight XLVIII â—â—aightway succeeding night 'gan to arise â—b mists of darkness to possess the Sky â—â—ntling the Warriours in her dark surprize 〈◊〉 Valiant could not fight the Coward fly 〈◊〉 in her Sables clad ermin'd with Eyes 〈◊〉 in a mourning Vail of Tragedy Black as the Face of Sorrows blackest hue To solemnize the Funerals to ensue XLIX 〈◊〉 Camps withdrawn into their Quarters make â—at Fires that each may see the others Care 〈◊〉 to their Safety they are both awake 〈◊〉 each of others bold Attempts aware 〈◊〉 wary Guards them to their Posts betake 〈◊〉 and Centinels well planted are Upon occasion to report th' Alarm And prompt their Leaders when and where to arm L. The Lorain Duke retir'd into his Tent During this respite does a Counsel keep To which the heads of ev'ry Regiment Summon'd appear in Consultation deep Kept waking all by Bourbon's brave intent When Death stands Centinel 't is no time to sleep There every one and all maturely weigh The State wherein their Lives and Honors lay LI. Himself a Friend to secure Counsels first Deliver'd what he thought best to be done Not like a Prince in forward action nurs't Which fires brave Minds where Honor 's to be won But like a subtle Fox that hardly durst With all his odds a Battail's hazzard run He thus in Counsel to his daring Friends The common State of their Affairs commends LII â—Most noble Friends in the Results of War Wherein the glorious Soul of Conquest lies The safest Counsels most successful are Nor is that Man less valiant who is wise Whereas precipitous resolves impair The worthy number of such brave supplies As these of yours who nobly thus advance Your dreaded Ensigns for dismember'd France LIII Whose wounding Adversaries pounded lye Into this Angle frighted by your Fame Compell'd to fight because they cannot fly Their desp'rate ruin and their certain shame Yet with this poor half vanquish'd Enemy â—Tis best we wisely play a certain Game That is to husband what our Swords have won And end in safety what in blood begun LIV. For though the Foe be by your Valours brought To his last Cast that is to fight and dye And that he is as soon o'recome as fought To conquer without loss is Victory When from the desp'rate Conquest 's dearly bought The Victors surest Friend is Policy By whose advice we may on cheaper terms Purchase the Triumphs that attends our Arms. LV. The lost Nobility that assist Navarre In his vain Quarrel at their own Expence Will fall away by a protracted War Leaving his Power as weak as his Pretence And when their Furnitures all wasted are Want will reduce them to a better Sense So that by spinning out the War in length We without Battail shall o'recome his Strength LVI This said Count Egmont instantly arose His sparkling Eyes with Resolution shone Wherein Disdain and Valour did disclose â—ow much he scorn'd such abject thoughts to own â—â—fore he spoke he threatn'd to oppose The mean Resolves their General put on At last he with a Souldiers Grace exprest The nobler sense of his more noble breast LVII â—My Lord said he I was not hither sent â—Nor into France these approv'd succors bring â—To vanquish without Arms nor with intent â—To wast the Treasure of the Cath'lick King Nor must his Mony and his Men be spent In doing nought or some ignoble thing Advantage gives the Signal now to go And end the Quarrel with one Manly blow LVIII Nor suits it with our Honors or your Cause To wave a Fight whereto they are compell'd And suffer such an Enemy to pause Because he is with Blood-shed to be quell'd So shall their Story with the Worlds applause Be writ in Triumph and we Cowards hâ—ld And in the splendor of â—heir Leaders Famâ— Will be eclips't the Glory of your Name LIX Therefore my Lord let not the rising Sun Behold a slothful Camp that dares not rise To end what they so daringly begun A wretched Army that the Conquer'd flies And dreads the glorious Wreath their Swords haâ— won But add unto our famous Victories This one which only for the Morning stay T' impale our brows with Oak the Souldieâ— bays LX. â—impatient Captains all at one approv'd â—h'unhappy Count 's Advice and all aloud â—ith equal ardour the stay'd Gen'ral mov'd â—o reap the crop for which their Swords had plow'd â—ho paus'd then told them that he dearly lov'd â—he Zeal and Valour their brave Minds endow'd And was resolv'd the day's event to try To conquer with such Friends or fighting dye LXI â—hus then resolv'd each Officer repairs 〈◊〉 his brave charge against the Morn to come â—rming their Limbs in Steel their Souls with Prayers 〈◊〉 to prevent or to preserve their doom 〈◊〉 less th' Heroiâ—k King his Men prepares â—ho but through danger had no high way home Spending those hours in diligence and care That interpos'd 'twixt him and conquest were LXII At last th' unwilling Morn 'gan weeping rise T' illuminate the Theatre of Death And like a tender Virgin hid her Eyes From the sad Objects to succeed beneath So that she shone but did not guild the Skies Even asham'd to grace the Victor's Wreath Who at the price of native blood at best Must win that Honor to his daring Crest LXIII No sooner peept she from her Eastern Seat Through the Clouds of sorrow vail'd her Face Than the loud Instruments of War did greet The Light so long'd for such a tedious space They sound their Trumpets and their Drums thâ— beat Whilst each side takes possession of their place In the same order that before when nighâ— By interposing had defer'd the Fight LXIV The valiant French whose Flames that day inroll'd To prov'd posterity spur'd about the Plain To chear the Coward and confirm the bold No thought of Fear could their true Metals stain â—ach in his constant Looks to his foretold â—hey should the Honor of the Field obtain Thus by their Leaders brave Exemple taught On Conquest only ev'ry Souldier thought LXV â—â—eat Henry mounted on a large bay Steed Who as he knew the Royal Weight he bore â—ampled the Earth where Thousands were to bleed â—heir tribute to that Parent whence before â—hey had deriv'd the matter of their seed 〈◊〉 to that
Element must now restore Rode up and down to view his Loyal Bands How each in order and in courage stands LXVI His Head uâ—arm'd to those his faithful Friends Who now impatient of the Battail stay With an undaunted Look he recommends The common State wherein their Fortunes lay He tells them all that no more strength attends To try th'evâ—nt of such another day But thaâ— each private Man's peculiar share Of Life and Safety in their Valours were LXVII His noble Presence more perswasion finds Than his brave Words not to be heard by all And gave a better stamp to all their Minds Than from the Tongue of Eloquence could fall Nothing a Souldiers Resolution binds More than Example in a General They all ambitious are of their blind Fate And each Man thinks the time defeâ—'d too latâ— LXVIII Thus riding the Divisions his Host To help an Error were it to be found He spur'd his fiery Steed from post to post Through the Files of ev'ry Squadron round So to supply where the defect was most A disadvantage in his Men or Ground Till at the main Battalions head he stay'd And lifting up his Eyes to Heaven thus pray'd LXIX Thou dreaded Architect of this great Ball Who with thine Eye of Providence look'st down Searching the secret Purposes of all Out of thy Gracious Bounty please to own The Justice of my Arms nor let me fall In my just claim to this usurped Crown But fav'rably extend this doubtful hour The conqu'ring hand of thy Almighty Power LXX Or if for this thy zealous peoples Peace Thou in thy sacred Wisdom know 't unfit That I should rule and that 't were their Disease In the French Throne should I a Monarch sit Then let my Title fall if thou so please T' advance their Fortune and let me with it In the first File of Honor fighting dye Worthy my Name and their Fidelity LXXI This said a chearful shout i' th' Front began The loud excursion of a sudden Joy And with the Rear which eccho'd to the Van Fill'd the whole Camp with an auspicious Cry From Troop to Troop the Loyal Motto ran Which made the Plain resound Vive le Roy All arm'd with Valour and their Prince's Love Unwilling stay their faithful Arms to prove LXXII Then with his Cask he arm'd his noble Head In which a waving Plume of curled white Like a white Dove the silver Wings outspread Above his Crest there stuck to be a Light In clouds of Horror unto those he led Through the rough paths of an uncertain Fight And now the Armies both attend the sign Which given both in dreadful conflict joyn LXXIII Have you not seen on Neptune's liquid Plain A short-liv'd Truce still that transparent Face No whisper of the Air to crisp the Maine But all as even and as smooth as Glass Where not the Footsteps of a Storm remain Whereby the Eye may any ruins trace The Sea so calm and the Winds Doors so bar'd As if the Elements had never jar'd LXXIV When on a sudden all the Winds broke loose From the dark Entrails of their bolted Cave Break the late Concord and dissolve the Truce And on the surface of the Waters brave Nothing but noise and tumult then â—nsues Winds fight with Winds and Wave encountreth Wave Together shuffled in a foaming rage That pale-fac'd Ruin only can asswage LXXV So still these Armies do maintain their Ground As in their cutting Swords no danger were As each withdrew his hand from the first Wound Panting for Glory some and some for Fear Till by the Signal of the Trumpets Sound In a far diff'rent posture they appear Thund'ring confusion to the vaulted Sky A Prologue to th' ensuing Tragedy LXXVI The wide-mouth'd Canon through their Iron Jaws In killing Accents first began to speak Disputing with a dreadful noise the cause In which all Argument had prov'd too weak Nor was it now a time for other Laws Than what th' effects of Fire and Sword could wreak No other Language must be understood Thâ—n that which spoke in Thunder Fire and Blood. LXXVII The troubled Morning who before had lent Only a faint and an unwilling Light In sulph'rous Clouds was hid as if they meant To shade that Beauty with eternal Night The rowls of Smoak These roaring Ord'nance vent Heav'ns burning Eye had overshaded quite A vaperous Darkness so enclos'd them all None other knew but by the Canons call LXXVIII So have I seen a black tempestous shade Rudely succeeding Phoebus's Golden Beams With thund'ring Terror the hush't Air invade Clad in the rage of Natures loud extreams No ray of Comfort but what Light'nings made Darting through dreadful Chasms their flaming Streams Whilst the confounded World do trembling fear The last and greatest Dissolution near LXXIX Twice had these Engines upon either part Disgorg'd their murd'ring Entrails on the Foe But with so diff'rent Fortune Care and Art That the Duke's erring Shot play'd all too low Whilst the King 's levell'd Right tore through the Heart Of the Duke's Front almost to overthrow And gall'd Count Egmont who asham'd to stay Began the brave Encounter of the Day LXXX The Grand-priors Squadron the bold Count assails With so much Brav'ry such impetuous Force That through that Body's Centre he prevails Unable to withstand his stronger Horse So that the Flemings turn'd their Coursers Tails On the King's Canon and compleat their Course Painting their Lances with the Rabble Blood Of Pioneers who by the Ord'nance stood LXXXI By which contempt they so disorder'd were Thus killing on at this successful rate That bold Aumont and fierce Byron must bear Upon their damask't Swords their sudden Fate So that by these charg'd home in Flanck and Rear They find the Error of their hast too late Whilst the Grand-prior rally'd straight began A furious Charge in their dismember'd Van. LXXXII Anger and Shame Spite and Revenge contend In execution which should which out-run With unresisted Fury all offend And to redeem what the rash Duâ—ch had won Who round begirt with slaughter bow and bend And e're times restless wheel an hour had spun On the cold bosom of the purpled Plain They ev'ry Man lay with their Leader slain LXXXII So a Victorious Grove of stately Oaks Which their aspiring Heads to Heaven raise Before a throng of Lab'rers wounding stroaks Stoop their ambitious Brows to kiss their base The strong limb'd Clown in his Endeavour smoaks Till the large Trunks lie tumbled on the place As fell this Squadron on th' Earths bruis'd Womb Worthy a better Cause and worth their Tomb. LXXXIV In this great Ruin Noble Egmont fell To War and Death a Bloody Sacrifice His Countries Honor his Times Miracle Spurring his Faâ—e by his too bold Advise Nor can the Tongue of Fame speak ought but well Of his Renoun and living Victories He Conqu'ring fell despising Fate and Death Bequeathing to his Name Immortal Breath LXXXV Now through the Field Giddy destruction flew To riot in full draughts