Selected quad for the lemma: heaven_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A39709
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Epigrams of all sorts written by Richard Flecknoe.
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Flecknoe, Richard, d. 1678?
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1669
(1669)
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Wing F1217; ESTC R23744
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16,246
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53
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address 'T was made for you and has the Ambition To owe its Acting unto you alone All other Courtship and address is poor T is pure Moliere I need to say no more Prologue For the Revival of his Damoiselles a-la-mode THis Play of ours just like some Vest or Jupe Worn twice or thrice was carefully laid up And after a little while it so had lain Is now brought forth as good as new again For having the Honour of our Master's sight And happiness of giving him delight Our Author thought his business was done But great part of our business is to come He only looks after the pleasure of it But we must look as well unto our profit He car'd but for an Audience or two But if we cou'd wee 'd every day have new And to conclude he had his end agen In pleasing those who only saw it then But we must please you now or wee 'd be sorry Since only for that end w 'ave kept it for ye On Sir Critick WHilst thou on every one so fast dost spend Thy Judgment as t wou'd never have an end Prithee take heed thou spend it not so fast To leave thy self no Judgment at the last On the same T Is but a Cruel sport for men to go To th' Theater as to Bear-bayting they do And Bandog-like to fall upon the Play Worry the Poet and then go away As they some great and mighty Act had done When every day Dogs do as great an one On the Play of Periocles Prince of Tyre ARs longa vita brevis as they say But who Inverst that saying made this Play On the Dutchess of Newcastles Closet VVHat place is this looks like some sacred Cell Where holy Hermits antiently did dwell And never left Importunating Heaven Till some great Blessing unto Earth was given Is this a Lady's Closet it can't be For nothing here of vanity we see Nothing of Curiosity or pride As most of Lady's Closets have beside Scarcely a Glass or Mirrour in 't you find Excepting Books the Mirrours of the mind Nor is 't a Library but only as she Makes each place where she comes a Library Here she 's in Rapture here in Extasie With studying high and deep Philosophy Here those cleer lights descend into her mind Which by reflexion in her Books we find And those high Notions and Idea's too Which but her self no Woman ever knew Whence she 's her Sex's Ornament and Grace And Glory of her Time hail Sacred place To which the World in after-Times shall come As unto Homer's shrine or Virgil's Tomb Honouring the Walls in which she made abode The air she breath'd and ground on which she trod So Fame rewards the Arts and so agen The Arts reward all those who honour them Whilst who in any other hopes do trust Shall after Death lye in forgotten dust To Mr. Henry Jermin on occasion of some demanding why he had no higher Titles STill Noble Gallant Generous and brave What more of Titles wou'd these people have Or what can they imagine more to express How great thou art that wou'd not make thee less He who is proud of other Titles is Proud of a thing that 's Fortun 's none of his A thing that 's but the Title-page ot'h Book On which your Ignorant Vulgar only look Or garnishment of dishes not to eat But only better to set off the meat Thou envy'st none their honours but woud'st be Sorry they shou'd deserve them more than thee And 't were in thee but vain Ambition To seek by other Titles to be known When Harry Iermin's name alone affords As great and loud a sound as any Lords Be still Thy self then and let others be High as they list in place what 's that to thee Their worth 's without but Thine is all within And man t is fills the place but worth fills him The Title of a worthy person 's more Than all the rest the World does so adore And there 's no Office we may greater call Than doing of Good offices to all This is Thy Office these Thy Titles are Let who 'se will take the rest thou dost not care In one who standered a fair and vertuous Lady THou Enemy of all that 's fair and bright As fowls of darkness are unto the Light Monster of Monsters Basilick of spite Who kill'st with Tongue as t'other does with sight Slanderer of Ladies and of them the best Th' ast done an Art which all men must detest Beauty 's a thing Divine and he that wou'd Wrong that wou'd wrong Divinity if he cou'd Whence th' art not only highly injurious But impious too in slandring of her thus Who takes our wealth does but as Robbers do Who takes our Farms robbs us and kills us too And 's worse than he who does another slay He takes but Life thou life of life away The Soul of honour and with poisnous breath Woud'st if thou coud'st even kill them after death But I mistake it is no infamy To be calumniated by such as thee Thou rather praisest her against thy will As he who cur'd by chance whom he wou'd kill For 't is the same thing rightly understood To be disprais'd by th' bad as prais'd by th' good On Mistress Stuart STuart a Royal name that springs From Race of Calidonian Kings Whose Vertuous mind and Beauteous Frame Adds honour to that Royal name What praises can I worthy find To celebtate thy Form and mind The greatest power that is on earth Is given to Princes by their Birth But there 's no power in Earth nor Heaven More great than what 's to Beauty given Thât makes not only men relent When unto Rage and Fury bent But Lyons tame and Tygers mild All fierceness from their breasts exil'd Such wonders yet cou'd ne're be done By beauties force and power alone Without the power and force to boot O◠excellent goodness added to 't For just as Jewels we behold More brightly shine when set in Gold So Beauty shines far brighter yet In Goodness and in Vertue set Continue then but what you are So Excellently Good and Fair Let Princes by their birth-rights sway You 'l have a power as great as they On Mistress Stuarts dancing in Whitehall all shining with Iewels SO Citherea in th' Olympick Hall And rest o th' Starrs dance their Celestial Ball As Stuart with the rest ot'h Nimphs does here The brightest Glories of the British sphere Who wou'd not think her Heaven to see her thus All shine with Starry Jewels as she does Or somwhat more than Heaven to see her Eyes Out-shine the Starry Jewels of the Skies Only their splendor's so exceeding bright Th' Excess confounds and blinds us with the sight Just as the Sun who 's bright to that degree Nothing is more nothing less seen than he Mean time the rapid motion of the Sphears Is not so sweet and ravishing as hers Nor is 't the Harmony makes her dance but she In dancing 't is that
makes the Harmony Next to divinest Cinthia Queen of Light Never was seen a Nimph more fair and bright Nor ever shall mongst all her Starry Train Though those in Heaven shou'd all come down again On Mistress Stuarts Marriage with the Duke of Richmond THe brightest Nimph of all Diana's Train For whom so many sigh'd and sigh'd in vain She who so oft had others Captive made And who so oft or'e others triumph'd had Is Venus Captive now her self and led In Triumph to the Noble Richmond's bed Nor is it strange to see about her fly As many Cupids as are Starrs i' th' Sky As many Graces as are Sands i' th' Sea Nor yet as many Venus's as they But to behold so many Vertues throng About a Nimph so Beautiful and young Is strange indeed to admiration And Joy and Gladness too of every one But now whilst so much Joy and Gladness is To see how mighty Iove does frown at this Is stranger yet and does too clearly prove Th' are neer to-Thunder who are neer to Iove Oh may he think amongst his milder thoughts How God-like t is to pardon Mortals faults And how of all the rest the faults of Love Least move the Anger of the Gods above Of Friends and Foes JUst as a Friend and Foe shou'd go about To paint Antigonus whose one Eye was out Which at half Face either to shew or hide T'one turns his blind t'other his better side So betwixt Friends and Foes men are exprest By halfs set forth whilst they conceal the rest No man's so bad as Foes depaint him wou'd No man as Friends wou'd make him half so good To Lilly drawing the Countess of Castlemains Picture STay daring man and ne'r presume to draw Her Picture till thou maist such colours get As Xerxes and Apelles never saw Nor er'e were known by any Painter yet Till from all Beauties thou extract'st the Grace And from the Sun the Beams that gil'd the Skies Never presume to draw her beauteous face Nor paint the Radiant brightness of her Eyes In vain the whilst thou dost the labour take Since none can set her forth to her desert She who 's above all nature er'e did make much more 's above all can be made by Art Yet been't discourag'd since who er'e does see 't At least with Admiration must confess It has an air for charming and for sweet Much more than others though than her 's much less So those bold Gyants who wou'd scale the Sky Although they in their high attempt did fall This comfort had they mounted yet more high Than those who never strove to climb at all Comfort thee then and think it no disgrace From that great height a little to decline Since all must grant the Reason of it was Her too great Excellence and no want of Thine On a fair and vertuous Lady's embracing a Religious Life A Gentle Shepherdess as er'e did tread Upon the Plains whereon her flocks were fed Inspir'd by him who all good thoughts inspires Felt in her breast till then unfelt desires To tast Heavens pleasures since the Earth had none A Soul in longing long cou'd feed upon But changing one aweary of the first She found the latter pleasure still the worst And so went still deluded in her mind Seeking for that which she cou'd never find This Infant thought with pious care she fed And with Religious Education bred Giving it now an aspiration Or wish for that blest Life to feed upon And now a sigh and now a Tear agen Never to have known that blessedness till then Avoiding carefully those Rocks and Shelves On which so many Souls had wrackt themselves Those two extremes on which so many fall To undertake too much or nought at all For 't is with new-born Children of desire As 't is with sparks you kindle unto fire Starv'd with too little fuel 't will not light Opprest with too much 't is extinguisht quite And now she 's all a fire happiness be Fair Virgin to thy blest desires and thee So full so high so great a happiness As nothing can be more that is not less Nothing beyond but down the Hill again And all Addition rather loss than gain By glad Experience maist thou find all store Of hearts contentment thou expect'st and more And learn that Magick of Religion there Makes every thing quite contrary appear To you than unto us Rich poverty Triumphant sufferance brave Humility Soft hardness hardness difficulties slight Sweet bitterness and heaviest burthens light Ease in your labour pleasure in your pain A Heaven on Earth and all things else but vain Pious EPIGRAMS To her MAIESTY Of the Force and Efficacy of Prayer HEaven is God's Throne and Earth his Footstool is To that on wings of Prayer Souls fly from this Where they almost Omnipotent become By being joyn'd to the Almighty's Throne To this height Madam from your Infancy Your Majesty by Prayer was taught to fly In Company of those to whom 't is given To have their Conversation in Heaven Where those stupendious Miracles are wrought Surpass all human force and human thought And if Heaven suffer violence from whence But only Prayer proceeds this violence Ther 's nothing then that England may despair To obtain of Heaven by Katherina's Prayer Let us have faith in her but to confide And she ha's faith enough for all beside Of Easter and Christmas OF Easter a great word was said This is the Day the Lord has made Of Christmas now a greater word This is the Day that made the Lord. On the Magii's following the Starr YOur other Magii knew that every Starr In Heaven was greater than this world by far But now so well professed what th 'ad known As these who left the VVorld to follow one On these words of our B. S. be ye perfect YOu bid us to be perfect Lord and we Continue still imperfect as you see What shou'd we say O Lord but only this Give what you bid and bid us what you please On these other words O Woman great is thy Faith O Lord when shall our Faiths be praised thus And we deserve to have thus much said of us Others count all things possible to thee We nothing possible but what we see They more to Faith than Senses credit give We more our Senses than our Faith believe They believe all we but believe by halfs Their Faiths are Gyants our Faith 's only dwarfs FINIS On these Words of our B. S. I am the Way the Truth and the Life O LORD THou art the Way the Truth and Life thou say'st As well thou may'st What Fool is he then wou'd forsake the Way To go astray What Fool is he who wou'd the Truth refuse And Falshood chuse But oh 'bove all what Fool and mad-man's he Wou'd forsake thee The only Eternal Life and chuse to die Eternally The saying of a certain Holy-man MY God and I can all things do said one And if it seem too great