of passion or some powerfull charmes To vent his owne griefe or unlock her armes Take off his pen and in sad verse bemone This generall sorrow and forget his owne So may those Verseslive which else must dye For though the Muses give eternitie When they embalme with verse yet she could give Life unto that Muse by which others live Oh pardon me faire soule that boldly have Dropt though but one teare on thy silent grave And writ on that earth which such honour had To cloath that flesh wherein thy selfe was clad And pardon me sweet Saint whom I adore That I this tribute pay out of the store Of lines and teares that 's only due to thee Oh doe not thinke it new Idolatrie Though you are only soveraigne of this Land Yet universall losses may command A subsidie from every private eye And presse each pen to write so to supply And seed the common griefe if this excuse Prevaile not take these teares to your owne use As shed for you for when I saw her dye I then did thinke on your mortalitie For since nor vertue will nor beautie could Preserve from Death's hand this their heavenly mould Where they were framed all and where they dwelt I then knew you must dye too and did melt Into these teares but thinking on that day And when the gods resolv'd to take away A Saint from us I that did know what dearth There was of such good soules upon the earth Began to feare lest Death their Officer Might have mistooke and taken thee for her So had'st thou rob'd us of that happinesse Which she in heaven and I in thee possesse But what can heaven to her glory adde The prayses she hath dead living she had To say she 's now an Angell is no more Praise then she had for she was one before Which of the Saints can shew more votaries Then she had here even those that did despise The Angels and may her now she is one Did whilst she liv d with pure devotion Adore and worship her her vertues had All honour here for this world was too bad To hate or envy her these cannot rise So high as to repine at Deities But now she 's 'mongst her fellow Saints they may Be good enough to envy her this way There 's losse i' th' change 'twixt heav'n and earth if she Should leave her servants here below to be Hated of her competitors above But sure her matchlesse goodnesse needs must move Those blest soules to admire her excellence By this meanes only can her journey hence To heaven prove gaine if as she was but here Worshipt by men she be by Angels there But I must weepe no more over this urne My teares to their owne chanell must returne And having ended these sad obsequies My Muse must back to her old exercise To tell the story of my martyrdome But oh thou Idoll of my soule become Once pittifull that she may change her stile Drie up her blubbred eyes and learne to smile Rest then blest soule for as ghosts flye away When the shrill Cock proclaimes the infant-day So must I hence for loe I see from farre The minions of the Muses comming are Each of them bringing to thy sacred Herse In either eye a teare each hand a Verse To my Mistresse in absence THough I must live here and by force Of your command suffer divorce Though I am parted yet my mind That 's more my selfe still stayes behind I breath in you you keepe my heart 'T was but a carkasse that did part Then though our bodyes are dis-joynd As things that are to place confin'd Yet let our boundlesse spirits meet And in loves spheare each other greet There let us worke a mystique wreath Vnknowne unto the world beneath There let our claspt loves sweetly twin There let our secret thoughts unseen Like nets be wear'd and inter-twin'd Wherewith wee 'le catch each others mind There whilst our soules doe sit and kisse Tasting a sweet and subtle blisse Such as grosse lovers cannot know Whose hands and lips meet here below Let us looke downe and marke what paine Our absent bodyes here sustaine And smile to see how farre away The one doth from the other stray Yet burne and languish with desire To joyne and quench their mutuall fire There let us joy to see from farre Our emulous flames at loving warre Whilst both with equall luster shine Mine bright as yours yours bright as mine There seated in those heavenly bowers Wee 'le cheat the lag and lingring houres Making our bitter absence sweet Till soules and bodyes both may meet To her in absence A SHIP TOst in a troubledsea of griefes I floate Farre from the shore in a storme-beaten boat Where my sad thoughts doe like the compasse show The severall points from which crosse winds doe blow My heart doth like the needle toucht with love Still sixt on you point which way I would move You are the bright Pole-staire which in the darke Of this long absence guides my wandring barke Love is the Pilot but o're-come with feare Of your displeasure dares not homewards steare My fearefull hope hangs on my trembling sayle Nothing is wanting but a gentle gale Which pleasant breath must blow from your sweet lip Bid it but move and quick as thought this Ship Into your armes which are my port will flye Where it for ever shall at Anchor lye SONG Eternitie of love protested HOw ill doth he deserve a lovers name Whose pale weake flame Cannot retaine His heate in spight of absence or disdaine But doth at once like paper set on fire Burne and expire True love can never change his seat Nor did he ever love that could retreat That noble flame which my brest keeâ—…es alive shall still survive When my soule 's fled Nor shall my love dye when my bodye's dead That shall waite on me to the lower shade And never fade My very ashes in their urne Shall like a hallowed Lamp for ever burne Upon some alterations in my Mistresse after my departure into France OH gentle Love doe not forsake the guide Of my fraile Barke on which the swelling tide Of ruthlesse pride Doth beat and threaten wrack from every side Gulfes of disdaine do gape to overwhelme This boat nigh sunke with griefe whilst at the helme Dispaire commands And round about the shifting sands Of faithlesse love and false inconstancie With rocks of crueltie Stop up my passage to the neighbour Lands My sighs have rays'd those winds whose sury beares My sayles or'e boord and in their place spreads teares And from my teares This sea is sprâ—…ng where naught but Death appeares A mystie cloud of anger hides the light Of my faire starre and every where black night Vsurpes the place Of those bright rayes which once did grace My forth-bound Ship but when it could no more Behold the vanisht shore In the deep flood she drown'd her beamie face Good counsell to a young Maid WHen you the
load to those That made and beare him not as we once thought The seed of Gods but a weake modell wrought By greedy men that seeke to enclose the common And within private armes empale free woman Come then and mounted on the wings of love Wee 'le cut the flitting ayre and sore above The Monsters head and in the noblest seates Of those blest shades quench and renew our heates There shall the Queens of Love and Innocence Beautie and Nature banish all offence From our close Ivy twines there I 'le behold Thy bared snow and thy unbraded gold There my enfranchiz'd hand on every side Shall o're thy naked polish'd Ivory slide No curtaine there though of transparant lawne Shall be before thy virgin-treasure drawne But the rich Mine to the enquiring eye Expos'd shall ready still for mintage lye And we will coyne young Cupids There a bed Of Roses and fresh Myrtles shall be spread Vnder the cooler shade of Cypresse groves Our pillowes of the downe of Venus Doves Whereon our panting lims wee 'le gently lay In the faint respites of our active play That so our slumbers may in dreames have leisure To tell the nimble fancie our past pleasure And so our soules that cannot be embrac'd Shall the embraces of our bodyes taste Meane while the bubbling streame shall court the shore Th' enamoured chirping Wood-quire shall adore In varied tunes the Deitie of Love The gentle blastsof Westerne winds shall move The trembling leaves through their close bows breath Still Musick whilst we rest our selves beneath Their dancing shade till a soft murmure sent From soules entranc'd in amorous languishment Rowze us and shoot into our veines fresh fire Till we in their sweet extasie expire Then as the empty Bee that lately bore Into the common treasure all her store Flyes 'bout the painted field with nimble wing Deflowring the fresh virgins of the Spring So will I rifle all the sweets that dwell In my delicious Paradise and swell My bagge with honey drawne forth by the power Of servent kisses from each spicie flower I 'le seize the Rose-buds in their perfum'd bed The Violet knots like curious Mazes spread O're all the Garden taste the ripned Cherry The warme firme Apple tipt with corall berry Then will I visit with a wandring kisse The vale of Lillies and the Bower of blisse And where the beauteous Region doth divide Into two milkie wayes my lips shall slide Downe those smooth Allies wearing as I goe A tract for lovers on the printed snow Thence climbing o're the swelling Appenine Retire into thy grove of Eglantine Where I will all those ravisht sweets distill Through Loves Alimbique and with Chimmique skill From the mixt masse one soveraigne Balme derive Then bring that great Elixar to thy hive Now in more subtile wreathes I will entwine My sinowie thighes my legs and armes with thine Thou like a sea of milke shalt lye display'd Whilst I the smooth calme Ocean invade With such a tempest as when Jove of old Fell downe on Danae in a storme of gold Yet my tall Pine shall in the Cyprian straight Ride safe at Anchor and unlade her fraight My Rudder with thy bold hand like a tryde And skilfull Pilot thou shalt steere and guide My Bark into Loves channell where it shall Dance as the bounding waves doe rise or fall Then shall thy circling armes embrace and clip My willing bodie and thy balmie lip Bathe me in juyce of kisses whose perfume Like a religious incense shall consume And send up holy vapours to those powres That blesse our loves and crowne our sportfull houres That with such Halcion calmenesse fix our soules In stead fast peace as no affright controules There no rude sounds shake us with sudden starts No jealous eares when we unrip our hearts Sucke our discourse in no observing spies This blush that glance traduce no envious eyes Watch our close meetings nor are we betrayd To Rivals by the bribed chamber-maid No wedlock bonds unwreathe our twisted loves We seeke no midnight Arbor no darke groves To hide our kisses there the hated name Of husband wife lust modest chaste or shame Are vaine and empty words whose very sound Was never heard in the Elizian ground All things are lawfull there that may delight Nature or unrestrained Appetite Like and enjoy to will and act is one We only sinne when Loves rites are not done The Roman Lucrece there reades the divine Lectures of Loves great master Aretine And knowes as well as Lais how to move Her plyant body in the act of love To quench the burning Ravisher she hurles Her limbs into a thousand winding curles And studies artfull postures such as be Caru'd on the barke of every neighbouring tree By learned hands that so adorn'd the rinde Of those faire Plants which as they lay entwinde Have fann'd their glowing fires The Grecian Dame That in her endlesse webb toyl'd for a name As fruitlesse as her worke doth there display Her selfe before the Youth of Ithaca And th' amorous sport of gamesome nights prefer Before dull dreames of the lost Traveller Daphne hath broke her barke and that swift foot Which th' angry Gods had fastned with a root To the fixt earth doth now unfetter'd run To meet th' embraces of the youthfull Sun She hangs upon him like his Delphique Lyre Her kisses blow the old and breath new fire Full of her God she sings inspired Layes Sweet Odes of love such as deserve the Bayes Which she herselfe was Next her Laura lyes In Petrarchs learned armes drying those eyes That did in such sweet smooth-pac'd numbers flow As made the world enamour'd of his woe These and ten thousand Beauties more that dy'de Slave to the Tyrant now enlarg'd deride His cancell'd lawes and for their time mispent Pay into Loves Exchequer double rent Come then my Celia wee 'le no more forbeare To taste our joyes struck with a Pannique feare But will depose from his imperious sway This proud Vsurper and walke free as they With necks unyoak'd nor is it just that Hee Should fetter your soft sex with Chastitie Which Nature made unapt for abstinence When yet this false Impostor can dispence With humane Justice and with sacred right And maugre both their lawes command me sight With Rivals or with emulous Loves that dare Equall with thine their Mistresse eyes or haire If thou complaine of wrong and call my sword To carve out thy revenge upon that word He bids me fight and kill or else he brands With markes of infamie my coward hands And yet religion bids from blood-shed flye And damns me for that Act. Then tell me why This Goblin Honour which the world adores Should make men Atheists and not women Whores Epitaph on the Lady Mary Villers THe Lady Mary Villers lyes Vnder this stone with weeping eyes The Parents that first gave her birth And their sad Friends lay'd her in earth If any of them Reader were Knowne unto thee shed a teare Or
my paine Give me more love or more disdaine Good counsel to a young Maid SONG GAze not on thy beauties pride Tender Maid in the false tide That from Lovers eyes doth slide Let thy faithfull Crystall show How thy colours come and goe Beautie takes a soyle from woe Love that in those smooth streames lyes Vnder pitties faire disguise Will thy melting heart surprize Netts of passion finest thred Snaring Poems will be spred All to catch thy maiden-head Then beware for those that cure Loves disease themselves endure For reward a Calenture Rather let the Lover pine Then his pale cheeke should assignâ—… A perpetuall blush to thine To my Mistris sitting by a Rivers side AN EDDY MArke how yond Eddy steales away From the rude streame into the Bay There lockt up safe she doth divorce Her waters from the chanels course And scornes the Torrent that did bring Her headlong from her native spring Now doth she with her new love play Whilst he runs murmuring away Marke how she courts the bankes whilst they As amorously their armes display T' embrace and clip her silver waves See how she strokes their sides and craves An entrance there which they deny Whereat she frownes threatning to flye Home to her streame and 'gins to swim Backward but from the chanels brim Smiling returnes into the crecke With thousand dimples on her cheeke Be thou this Eddy and I 'le make My breast thy shore where thou shalt taâ—… Secure repose and never dreame Of the quite forsaken streame Let him to the wide Ocean hast There lose his colour name and tast Thou shalt save all and safe from him Within these armes for ever swim SONG Conquest by flight LAdyes flye from Love's smooth tale Oathes sleep'd in teares doe oft prevaile Griefe is infectious and the ayre Enflam'd with sighes will blast the fayre Then stop your eaâ—…es when lovers cry Lest your selfe weepe when no soft eye Shall with a sorrowing teare repay That pittie which you cast away Young men fly when beautie darts Amorous glances at your hearts The sixt marke gives the shooter ayme And Ladyes lookes have power to may me Now 'twixt their lips now in their eyes Wrapt in a smile or kisse Love lyes Then flye betimes for only they Conquer love that run away SONG To my inconstant Mistris WHen thou poore excommunicate From all the joyes of love shalt see The full reward and glorious fate Which my strong faith shall purchase me Then curse thine owne inconstancie A fayrer hand then thine shall cure That heart which thy false oathes did wound And to my soule a soule more pure Than thine shall by Loves band be bound And both with equall glory crown'd Then shalt thou weepe entreat complaine To Love as I did once to thee When all thy teares shall be as vaine As mine were then for thou shalt bee Damn'd for thy false Apostasie SONG Perswasions to enjoy IF the quick spirits in your eye Now languish and anon must dye If every sweet and every grace Must fly from that forsaken face Then Celia let us reape our joyes E're time such goodly fruit destroyes Or if that golden fleece must grow For ever free from aged snow If those bright Suns must know no shade Nor your fresh beauties ever fade Then feare not Celia to bestow What still beirg gather'd still must grow Thus either Time his Sickle brings In vaine or else in vaine his wings A deposition from Love I Was foretold your rebell sex Nor love nor pitty knew And with what scorne you use to vex Poore he arts that humbly suc Yet I believ'd to crowne our paine Could we the sortresse win The happy lover sure should gaine A Paradise within I thought loves plagues like Dragons sate Only to fright us at the gate But I did enter and enjoy What happy lovers prove For I could kisse and sport and toy And tast those sweets of love Which had they but a lasting state Or if in Celia's brest The force of love might nor abate Jove were too meane a guest But now her breach of faith far more Afflicts then did her scorne before Hard fate to have been once possess As victor of a heart Atchiev'd with labour and unrest And then forc'd to depart If the stout Foe will not resigne When I besiege a Towne I lose but what was never mine But he that is cast downe From enjoy'd beautie feeles a woe Onely deposed Kings can know Ingratefull beauty threatned KNow Celia since thou art so proud 'T was I that gave thee thy renowne Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd Of common beauties liv'd unknowne Had not my verse exhal'd thy name And with it ympt the wings of fame That killing power is none of thine I gave it to thy voyce and eyes Thy sweets thy graces all are mine Thou art my starre shin'st in my skies Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere Lightning on him that sixt thee there Temptme with such affrights no more Lest what I made I uncreate Let fooles thy mystique formes adore I 'le know thee in thy mortall state Wise Poets that wrap't Truth in tales Knew her themselves through all her vailes Disdaine returned HEE that loves a Rosie cheeke Or a corall lip admires Or from star-like eyes doth seeke Fuell to maintaine his fires As old Time makes these decay So his flames must waste away But a smooth and stedfast mind Gentle thoughts and calme desires Hearts with equall love combind Kindle never dying fires Where these are not I despise Lovely cheekes orlips or eyes No teares Celia now shall win My resolv'd heart to returne I have searcht thy soule within And find nought but pride and scorne I have learn'd thy arts and now Can disdaine as much as thou Some power in my revenge convay That love to her I cast away A Looking-Glasse THat flattring Glasse whose smooth face weares Your shadow which a Sunne appeares Was once a river of my teares About your cold heart they did make A circle where the brinie lake Congeal'd into a crystall cake Gaze no more on that killing eye For feare the native crueltie Doome you as it doth all to dye For feare lest the faire object move Your froward heart to fall in love Then you yourselfe my rivall prove Looke rather on my pale cheekes pin'de There view your beauties there you 'le finde A faire face but a cruell minde Be not for ever frozen coy One beame of love will soone destroy And melt that yce to flouds of joy An Elegie on the La PEN sent to my Mistresse out of France LEt him who from his tyrant Mistresse did This day receive his cruell doome forbid His eyes to weepe that losse and let him here Open those floud-gates to bedeaw this beere So shall those drops which else would be but brine Be turn'd to Manna falling on her shrine Let him who banisht farre from her deere sight Whom his soule loves doth in that absence write Or lines
Sun-burnt Pilgrim see fainting with thirst hast to the springs Marke how at first with bended knee He courts the crystall Nimphs and flings His body to the earth where He Prostrate adores the flowing Deitie But when his sweaty face is drencht In her coole waves when from her sweet Bosome his burning thirst is quencht Then markâ—… how with disdainfull feet He kicks her banks and from the place That thus fresht him moves with sullen pace So shalt thou be despis'd faire Maid When by the sated lover tasted What first he did with teares invade Shall afterwards with scorne be wasted When all thy Virgin-springs grow dry When no streames shall be left but in thine eye Celia bleeding to the Surgeon FOnd man that canst beleeve her blood Will from those purple chanels flow Or that the pure untainted flood Can any foule distemper know Or that thy weake steele can incize The Crystall case wherein it lyes Know her quick blood proud of his seat Runs dauncing through her azure veines Whose harmony no cold nor heat Disturbs whose hue no tincture staines And the hard rocâ—… wherein it dwells The keenest darâ—…s of Love repels But thou reply'st behold she bleeds Foole thou' rt deceivd and dost not know The mystique knot whence this proceeds How Lovers in each other grow Thou struckst her arme but 't was my heart Shed all the blood felt all the smart To T. H. a Lady resembling my Mistresse FAyre copie of my Celia's face Twin of my soule thy perfect grace Claymes in my love an equall place Disdaine not a divided heart Though all be hers you shall have part Love is not tyde to rules of art For as my soule first to her flew Yet stay'd with me so now 't is true It dwells with her though fled to you Then entertaine this wandring guest And if it love allow it rest It left not but â—…ooke the nest Nor thinke my love or your faire eyes Cheaper 'cause from the sympathise You hold with her these flames arise To Lead or Brasse or some such bad Mettall a Princes stamp may adde That valew which it never had But to the pure refined Ore The stamp of Kings imparts no more Worth then the mettall held before Only the Image gives the rate To Subjects in a forraine State 'T is priz'd as much for its owne waight So though all other hearts resigne To your pure worth yet you have mine Only because you are her coyne To Saxham THough frost and snow lockt from mine eyes That beautie which without dore lyes Thy gardens orchards walkes that so I might not all thy pleasures know Yet Saxham thou within thy gate Art of thy selfe so delicate So full of native sweets that blesse Thy roofe with inward happinesse As neither from nor to thy store Winter takes ought or Spring addes more The cold and frozen ayre had sterv'd Much poore if not by thee preserv'd Whose prayers have made thy Tableblest With plenty far above the rest The season hardly did afford Course cates unto thy neighbours bond Yet thou hadst daintyes as the skie Had only been thy Volarie Or else the birds fearing the snow Might to another deluge grow The Pheasant Partiridge and the Large Flew to thy house as to the Arke The willing Oxe of himselfe came Home to the slaughter with the Lambe And every beast did thither bring Himselfe to be an offering The scalie herd more pleasure tooke Bath'din thy dish then in the brooke Water Earth Ayre did all conspire To pay their tributes to thy site Whose cherishing flames themselves divide Through every roome where they deride The night and cold abroad whilst they Like suns within keepe endlesse day Those chearfull beames send forth their light To all that wander in the night And seeme to becken from aloofe The weary Pilgrim to thy roofe Where if refresh't he will away Hee 's fairly welcome or if stay Farre more which he shall hearty find Both from the Master and the Hinde The strangers welcome each man there Stamp'd on his chearfull brow doth we are Nor doth this welcome or his cheere Grow lesse 'cause he staies longer here There 's none observes much lesse repines How often this man sups or dines Thou hast no Porter at the doore T' examine or keep back the poore Nor locks nor bolts thy gates have bin Made onely to let strangers in Vntaught to shut they doe not feare To stand wide open all the yeare Carelesse who enters for they know Thou never didst deserve a soe And as for theeves thy bountie's such They cannot steale thou giv'st so much Upon a Ribband THis silken wreath which circles in mine arme Is but an Emblem of that mystique charme Wherewith the magique of your beauties binds My captive soule and round about it winds Fetters of lasting love This hath entwind My flesh alone That hath empalde my mind Time may weare out These soft weak bands but Those Strong chaines of brasse Fate shall not discompose This holy relique may preserve my wrist But my whole frame doth by That power subsist To That my prayers and sacrifice to This I onely pay a superstitious kisse This but the Idoll That 's the Deitie Religion there is due Here ceremonie That I receive by faith This but in trust Here I may tender dutie There I must This order as a Layman I may beare But I become Loves Priest when That I weare This moves like ayre That as the Center stands That knot your vertue tide This but your hands That Nature sram'd but This was made by Art This makes my arme your prisoner That my heart To the King at his entrance into Saxham by Master Io. Crofts SIR Ere you passe this threshold stay And give your creature leave to pay Those pious rites which unto you As to our houshold Gods are due In stead of sacrifice each brest Is like a flaming Altar drest With zealous fires which from pure hearts Love mixt with loyaltie imparts Incense nor gold have we yet bring As rich and sweet an offering And such as doth both these expresse Which is our humble thankfulnesse By which is payd the All we owe To gods above or men below The slaughter'd beast whose flesh should feed The hungrie flames we for pure need Dresse for your supper and the gore Which should be dasht on every dore We change into the lustie blood Of youthfull Vines of which a flood Shall sprightly run through all your veines First to your health then your faire traines We shall want nothing but good fare To shew your welcome and our care Such rarities that come from farre From poore mens houses banisht are Yet wee 'le expresse in homely cheare How glad we are to see you here Wee 'le have what e're the season yeelds Out of the neighbouring woods and fields For all the dainties of your board Will only be what those afford And having supt we may perchance Present you with a countrie dance Thus much
Planets shin'd With faire aspects and sent a glorious flame To animate so beautifull a frame That Darling of the Gods and men doth weare A cloude on 's brow and in his eye a teare And all the rest save when his dread command Doth bid them move like livelesse statues stand So full a griefe so generally worne Shewes a good King is sick and good men mourne SONG To a Lady not yet enjoy'd by her Husband COme Celia fixe thine eyes on mine And through those Crystalls our soules slitting Shall a pure wreathe of eye-beautes twine Our loving hearts together knitting Let Eaglets the bright Sun survey Though the blind Mole discerne not day When cleere Aurora leaves her mate The light of her gray eyes dispising Tot all the world doth celebrate With sacrifice her faire up-rising Let Eaglets c. A Dragon kept the golden fruit Tet he those dainties never tasted As others pin'd in the pursuit So he himselfe with plentie wasted Let Eaglets c. SONG The willing Prisoner to his Mistris LEt fooles great Cupids yoake disdaine Loving their owne wild freedome better Whilst proud of my triumphant chaine I sit and court my beauteous fetter Her murdring glances snaring haires And her bewitching smiles so please me As he brings ruine that repaires The sweet afflictions that disease me Hide not those panting balls of snow With envious vayles from my beholding Vnlock those lips their pearly row In a sweet smile of love unfolding And let those eyes whose motion wheeles The restlesse Fate of every lover Survey the paines my sicke heart feeles And wounds themselves have made discover A flye that flew into my Mistris her eye WHen this Flye liv'd she us'd to play In the Sun-shine all the day Till comming neere my Celia's sight She found a new and unknowne light So full of glory as it made The noone day Sun a gloomy shade Then this amorous Flye became My rivall and did court my flame She did from hand to bosome skip And from her breath her cheeke and lip Suckt all the incense and the spice And grew a bird of Paradise At last into her eye she flew There scorcht in flames and drown'd in dew â—…ke Phaeton from the Suns spheare She fell and with her dropt a teare Of which a pearle was straight compos'd Wherein her ashes lye enclos'd Thus she receiv'd from Celia's eye Funerall flame tombe Obsequie SONG Celia singing HArke how my Celia with the choyce Musique of her hand and voyce Stills the loude wind and makes the wilde Incensed Bore and Panther milde Marke how those statues like men move Whilst men with wonder statues prove This stiffe rock bends to worship her That Idoll turnes Idolater Now see how all the new inspir'd Images with love are sir'd Harke how the tender Marble grones And all the late transformed stones Court the faire Nymph with many a tears Which she more stony then they were Beholds with unrelenting mind Whilst they amaz'd to see combin'd Such matchlesse beautie with disdaine Are all turn'd into stones againe SONG Celia singing YOu that thinke Love can convey No other way But through the eyes into the heart His fatall Dart Closeup those casements and but heare This Syren sing And on the wing Of her sweet voyce it shall appeare That Love can enter at the eare Then unvaile your eyes behold The curious mould Where that voyce dwels and as we know When the Cocks crow We freely may Gaze on the day So may you when the Musique's done Awake and see the rising Sun SONG To one that desired to know my Mistris SEeke not to know my love for shee Hath vow'd her constant faith to me Her milde aspects are mine and thou Shalt only find a stormy brow For if her beautie stirre desire In me her kisses quench the fire Or I can to Love's fountaine goe Or dwell upon her hills of snow But when thou burn'st she shall not spare One gentle breath to coole the ayre Thou shalt not climbe those Alpes nor spye Where the sweet springs of Venus lye Search hidden Nature and there find A treasure to inrich thy mind Discover Arts not yet reveal'd But let my Mistris live conceal'd Though men by knowledge wiser grow Yet here 't is wisdome not to know In the person of a Lady to her inconstant servant WHen on the Altar of my hand Bedeaw'd with many a kisse and teare Thy now revolted heart did stand An humble Martyr thou didst sweare Thus and the God of love did heare By those bright glances of thine eye Vnlesse thou pitty me I dye When first those perjurd lips of thine Bepal'd with blasting sighes did sealâ—… Their violated faith on mine From the soft bosome that did heale Thee thou my melting heart didst steale My soule enflam'd with thy false breath Poyson'd with kisses suckt in death Yet I nor hand not lip will move Revenge or mercy to procure From the offended God of love My curse is fatall and my pure Love shall beyond thy scorne endure If I implore the Gods they 'le find Thee too ingratefull me too kind Truce in Love entreated NO more blind God for see my heart Is made thy Quiver where remaines No voyd place for another Dart And alas that conquest gaines Small praise that only brings away A tame and unresisting prey Behold a nobler foe all arm'd Defies thy weake Artillerie That hath thy Bow and Quiver charm'd A rebell beautie conquering Thee If thou dar'st equall combat try Wound her for 't is for her I dye To my Rivall HEnce vaine intruder hast away Wash not with thy unhallowed brine The foot steps of my Celia's shrine Nor on her purer Altars lay Thy empty words accents that may Some looser Dame to love encline She must have offerings more divine Such pearlie drops as youthfull May Scatters before the rising day Such smooth soft language as each line Might stroake an angry God or stay Joves thunder make the hearers pine With envie doe this thou shalt be Servant to her Rivall with me Boldnesse in love MArke how the bashfull morne in vaine Courts the amorous Marigold With sighing blasts and weeping raine Yet she refuses to unsold But when the Planet of the day Approacheth with his powerfull ray Then she spreads then she receives His warmer beames into her virgin leaves So shalt thou thrive in love fond Boy If thy teares and sighes discover Thy griefe thou never shalt enjoy The just reward of a bold lover But when with moving accents thou Shalt constant saith and service vow Thy Celia shall receive those charmes With open eares and with unfolded armes A Pastorall Dialogue Celia Cleon. AS Celia rested in the shade With Cleon by her side The swaine thus courted the young Maid And thus the Nymph replide C L. Sweet I let thy captive fetters weare Made of thine armes and hands Till such as thraldomé scorne or feare envie those happy bands C E. Then thus my willing armes I winde
Sentinell Doth the invading Foe repell And Jealousie thus mixt doth prove The season and the â—…lt of love But when Feare takes a larger scope Stifling the child of Reason Hope Then sitting on th' usurped throne She like a Tyrant rules alone As the wild Ocean unconfin'de And raging as the Northern-minde 2. Feminine Honour IN what esteeme did the Gods hold Faire Innocence and the chaste bed When scandall'd vertue might be bold Bare-foot upon sharpe Cultures spread O're burning coles to march yet feele Nor scorâ—…ing fire nor piercing sleele Why when the hard edg'd Iron did turne Soft as a bed of Roses blowne When cruell flames forgot to burne Their chaste pure limbes should man alone 'Gainst female Innocence conspire Harder then steele fiercer then fire Oh haplesse sex Vnequall sway Of partiall Honour Who may know Rebels from subjects that obey When malice oan on vestalâ—… throw Disgrace and Fame fixe high repute On the close shamelesse Prostitute Vaine Honour thou art but disguise A cheating voyce a jugling art No judge of vertue whose pure eyes Court her owne Image in the heart More pleas'd with her true figure there Then her false Eccho in the eare 3. Separation of Lovers STop the chased Bore or play With the Lyons paw yet feare From the Lovers side to teare Th'I doll of his soule away Though Love enter by the sight To the heart it doth not flye From the mind when from the eye The faire objects take their flight But since want provokes desire When we lose what wee before Have enjoy'd as we want more So is Love more seâ—… on fire Love doth with an hungrie eye Glut on Beautie and you may Safer snatch the Tygers prey Then his vitall food deny Yet though absence for a space Sharpen the keene Appetite Long continuance doth quit All Loves characters efface For the sense not fed denies Nourishment unto the minde Which with expectation pinde Love of a consumption dyes 4. Incommunicabilitie of Love QVest. By what power was Love confinde To one object who can binde Or fixe a limit to the free-borne minde An. Nature for as bodyes may Move at once but in one way So nor can mindes to more then one love stray Reply Yet I feele a double smart Loves twinn'd-flame his forked dart An. Then hath wilde lust not love possest thy hear Qu. Whence springs love An. From beauty Qu. Why Should th' effect not multiply As fast i'th'heart as death the cause i'th'eye An. When two Beauties equall are Sense preferring neither fayre Desire stands still distracted 'twixt the paire So in equall distance lay Two fayre Lambes in the Wolfe's way The hungry beast will sterve e're chuse his prey But where one is chiefe the rest Cease and that 's alone possest Without a Rivall Monarch of the breast Songs in the Play A Lover in the disguise of an Amazon is dearly beloved of his Mistresse CEase thou afflicted soule to mourne Whose love and faith are paid with scorne For I am starv'd that feele the blisses Of deare embraces smiles and kisses From my soules Jdoll yet complaine Of equall love more then disdaine Cease Beauties exile to lament The frozen shades of banishment For I in that faire bosome dwell That is my Paradise and Hell Banisht at home at once at ease In the safe Port and tost on Seas Cease in cold jealous seares to pine Sad wretch whom Rivals undermine For though I hold lockt in mine armes My lifes sole joy a Traytors charmes Prevaile whilst I may onely blame My selfe that myne owne Rivall am Another A Lady rescued from death by a Knight who in the instant leaves her complaines thus OH whither is my fayre Sun fled Bearing his light not heat away If thou repose in the moyst bed Of the Sea-Queene bring backe the day To our darke clime and thou shalt lye Bath'd in the sea flowes from mine eye Upon what whirlewind didst thou ride Hence yet remaine sixt in my heart From me and to me fled and ty'de Darke riddles of the amorous art Love lent thee wings to flye so Hee Vnfeather'd now must rest with mee Helpe helpe brave Youth I burne I bleed The cruell God with Bow and Brand Pursues the life thy valour freed Disarme him with thy conquering hand And that thou mayest the wilde boy tame Give me his dart keepe Thou his flame TO BEN. IOHNSON Vpon occasion of his Ode of defiance annext to his Play of the new Inne T Is true deare Ben thy just chastizing hand Hath fixt upon the sotted Age a brand To their swolne pride and empty scribbling due It can nor judge nor write and yet 't is true Thy commique Muse from the exalted line Toucht by thy Alchymist doth since decline From that her Zenith and foretells a red And blushing evening when she goes to bed Yet such as shall out-shine the glimmering light With which all stars shall guild the following night Nor thinke it much since all thy Eaglets may Endure the Sunnie tryall if we say This hath the stronger wing or that doth shine Trickt up in fairer plumes since all are thine Who hath his flock of cackling Geese compar'd With thy tun'd quire of Swans or else who dar'd To call thy births deformed but if thou bind By Citie-custome or by Gavell-kind In equall shares thy love on all thy race We may distinguish of their sexe and place Though one hand form them though one brain strike Soules into all they are not all alike Why should the follies then of this dull age Draw from thy Pen such an immodest rage As seemes to blast thy else-immortall Bayes When thine owne tongue proclaimes thy ytch of praise Such thirst will argue drouth No let be hurld Vpon thy workes by the detracting world What malice can suggest let the Rowre say The running sands that ere thou make a play Count the slow minutes might a Goodwin frame To swallow when th' hast done thy ship-wrackt name Let them the deare expence of oyle upbraid Suckt by thy watchfull Lampe that hath betray'd To thest the blood of martyr'd Authors spilt Into thy inke whilst thou growest pale with guilt Repine not at the Tapers thristie waste That sleekes thy terser Poems nor is haste Prayse but excuse and if thou overcome A knottie writer bring the bootie home Nor thinke it thest if the rich spoyles so torne From conguered Authors be as Trophies worne Let others glut on the extorted praise Of vulgar breath trust thou to after dayes Thy labour'd workes shall live when Time devoures Th' abortive off spring of their hastie houres Thou art not of their ranke the quarrell lyes Within thine owne Virge then let this suffice The wiser world doth greater Thee confesse Then all men else then Thy selfe onely lesse An Hymeneall Dialogue Bride and Groome GRoome Tell me my love since Hymen ty'de The holy knot hast thou not felt A new infused spirit slide Into thy brest whilst thine did melt Bride First tell me
sweet whose words were those For though the voyce your ayre did breake Yet did my soule the sence compose And through your lips my heart did speake Groo Then I perceive when from the flame Of love my scorch'd soule did retire Your frozen heart in her place came And sweetly melted in that fire Bride 'T is true for when that mutuall change Of soules was made with equall gaine I straight feele diffus'd a strange But gentle heat through every veine Chorus Oh blest dis-union that doth so Our bodyes from our soules divide As two doe one and one foure grow Each by contraction multiply'de Bride Thy bosome then I 'le make my nest Since there my willing soule doth pearch Groom And for my heart in thy chast brest I 'le make an everlasting search Chorus Oh blest disunion c. Obsequies to the Lady ANNE HAY. I Heard the Virgins sigh I saw the sleeke And polisht Courtier channell his fresh cheeke With reall teares the new-betrothed Maid Smild not that day the graver Senate layd Their businesse by of all the Courtly throng Griefe seald the heart and silence bound the tongue I that ne're more of private sorrow knew Then from my Pen some froward Mistresse drew And for the publike woe had my dull sense So sear'd with ever adverse influence As the invaders sword might have unfelt Pierc'd my dead bosome yet began to melt Griefe 's strong instinct did to my blood suggest In the unknowne losse peculiarinterest But when I heard the noble Carlil's Gemme The fayrest branch of Dennye's ancient stemme Was from the Casket stolne from this Trunke torne I found just cause why they why I should mourne But who shall guide my artlesse Pen to draw Those blooming beauties which I never saw How shall posteritie beleeve my story If I her crowded graces and the glory Due to her riper vertues shall relate Without the knowledge of her mortall state Shall I as once Apelles here a feature There steale a Grace and rifling so whole Nature Of all the sweets a learned eye can see Figure one Venus and say such was shee Shall I her legend fill with what of old Hath of the Worthies of her sex beene told And what all pens and times to all dispence Restraine to her by a prophetique sence Or shall I to the Morall and Divine Exactest lawes shape by an even line A life so straight as it should shame the square Left in the rules of Katherine or Clare And call it hers say so did she begin And had she liv'd such had her progresse been These are dull wayes by which base pens for hire Dawbe glorious vice and from Apollo's quire Steale holy Dittyes which prophanely they Vpon the herse of every strumpet lay We will not bathe thy corps with a forc'd teare Nor shall thy traine borrow the blacks they weare Such vulgar spice andgums embalme not thee Thou art the Theame of Truth not Poetrie Thou shalt endure a tryall by thy Peeres Virgins of equall birth of equall yeares Whose vertues held with thine an emulous strise Shall draw thy picture and record thy life One shall enspheare thine eyes another shall Impearle thy teeth a third thy white and small Hand shall besnow a fourth incarnadine Thy rosie cheeke untill each beauteous line Drawne by her hand in whom that part excells Meet in one Center where all beautie dwells Others in taske shall thy choyce vertues share Some shall their birth some their ripe growth declare Though niggard Time left much unhach'd by deeds They shall relate how thou hadst all the seeds Of every Vertue which in the pursuit Of time must have brought forth admired fruit Thus shalt thou from the mouth of envy raise A glorious journall of thy thrifty dayes Like a bright starre shot from his spheare whose race In a continued line of flames we trace This if survay'd shall to thy view impart How little more then late thou wer 't thou are This shall gaine credit with succeeding times When nor by bribed pens nor partiall times Of engag'd kindred but the sacred truth Is storied by the partners of thy youth Their breath shall Saint thee and be this thy pride Thus even by Rivals to be Deifide To the Countesse of Anglesie upon the immoderatly-by-herlamented death of her Husband MAdam men say you keepe with dropping eyes Your sorrowes fresh wat'ring the Rose that lyes Fall'n from your cheeks upon your deare Lords Hearse Alas those odors now no more can pierce His cold pale nosthrill nor the crymson dye Present a gracefull blush to his darke eye Thinke you that flood of pearly moysture hath The vertue fabled of old Aesons bath You may your beauties and your youth consume Over his Vine and with your sighes perfume The solitarie Vault which as you grone In hollow Ecchoes shall repeate your moane There you may wither and an Autumne bring Vpon your selfe but not call back his spring Forbeare your fruitlesse griefe then and let those Whose love was doubted gaine beliefe with showes To their suspected faith you whose whole life In every act crown'd you a constant Wife May spare the practise of that vulgar trade Which superstitious custome onely made Rather a Widow now of wisedome prove The patterne as a Wife you were of love Yet since you surâ—… on your griefe 't is sit I tell the world upon what cates you sit Glutting your sorrowes and at once include History your excuse my gratitude You that behold how yond' sad Lady blends Those ashes with her teares lest as she spends Her tributarie sighes the frequent gust Might scatter up and downe the noble dust Know when that heape of Atomes was with bloud Kneaded to solid flesh and firmely stood On stately Pillars the rare forme might move ' The froward Juno's or chast Cinthia's love In motion active grace in rest a calme Attractive sweetnesse brought both wound and balme To every heart He was compos'd of all The wishes of ripe Virgins when they call For Hymens rites and in their fancies wed A shape of studied beauties to their bed Within this curious Palace dwelt a soule Gave Iustre to each part and to the whole This drest his face in curteous smiles and so From comely gestures sweeter manners slow This courage joyn'd to strength so the hand bent Was valours open'd Bounties instrument Which did the scale and sword of Justice hold Knew how to brandish steele and scatter gold This taught him not to engage his modest tongue In suites of private gaine though publike wrong Nor mis-employ As is the Great-mans use His credit with his Master to traduce Deprave maligne and ruine Innocence In proud prevenge of some mis-judg'd offence But all his actions had the noble end T' advance desert or grace some worthy friend He chose not in the active streame to swim Nor hunted Honour which yet hunted him But like a quiet Eddie that hath found Some hollow creeke there turnes his waters round And in continuall
as earst one Sun shall on thee shine But those two glorious suns her eyes devine O then what Monarch would not think 't a grace To leave his Regall throne to have thy place My self ◅ to gaine thy blessed seat do vow Would be transformd into a rose as thou The protestation a Sonnet NO more shall meads be deckt with flowers Nor sweetnesse dwell in rosie bowers Nor greenest buds on branches spring Nor warbling birds delight to sing Nor Aprill violets paint the grove If I forsake my Celias love The fish shall in the Ocean burne And fountaines sweet shall bitter turne The humble oake no flood shall know When floods shall highest hills ore-flow Blacke Laethe shall oblivion leave If ere my Celia I deceive Love shall his bow and shaft lay by And Venus doves want wings to flie The Sun refuse to shew his light And day shall then be turn'd to night And in that night no starre appeare If once I leave my Celia de◅ Love shall no more inhabite earth Nor lovers more shall love for worth Nor joy above in heaven dwell Nor paine torment poore soules in hell Grim death no more shall horrid prove If ere I leave bright Celias love The tooth-ach cured by a kisse FAte 's now growne mercifull to men Turning disease to blisse For had not kind Rheume vext me then I might not Celia kisse Phisitians you are now my scorne For I have found a way To cure diseases when forlorne By your dull art which may Patch vp a body for a time But can restore to health No more then Chimists can sublime True Gold the Indies wealth That Angell sure that us'd to move The poole men so admir'd Hath to her lip the seat of love As to his heaven retir'd To his jealous Mistris ADmit thou darling of mine eyes I have some Idoll lately fram'd That under such a false disguise Our true loves might the lesse be fam'd Canst thou that knowest my heart suppose ' I le fall from thee and worship those Remember deare how loath and slow I was to cast a looke or smile Or one love-line to mis-bestow Till thou hadst chang'd both face and stile And art thou grow no afraid to see That maske put on thou mad'st for me I dare not call those childish feares Comming from love much lesse from thee But wash away with frequent teares This counterfeit Idolatrie And henceforth kneele at ne're a shrine To blind the world but only thine The Dart. OFt when I looke I may desery A little face peepe through that eye Sure that 's the boy which wisely chose His throne among such beames as those Which if his quiver chance to fall May serve for darts to kill withall The mistake WHen on fairo Celia I did spie A wounded hēart of stone The wound had almost made me cry Sure this heart was my owne But when I saw it was enthron'd In her celestiall brest O then I it no longer own'd For mine was ne're so blest Yet if in highest heavens doe shine Each constant Martyrs heart Then shee may well give rest to mint That for her sake doth smart Where seated in so high a blisse Though wounded it shall live Death enters not in Paradise The place free life doth give Or if the place lesse sacred were Did but her saving eye Bath my sicke heart in one kind teare Then should I never dye Slight balmes may heale a slighter sore No medicine lesse divine Can ever hope for to restore A wounded heart like mine Coelum Brittanicum A MASQVE AT WHITE-HALL IN the Banquetting house on Shrove-Tuesday-night the 18. of February 1633. The Inventors Tho Carew Inigo Iones Non habet ingenium Caesar sed jussit habebo Cur me posse negem posse quod ille putat LONDON Printed for Thomas Walkley 1640. THE DESCRIPTION OF THE SCAENE THe first thing that presented it selfe to the sight was a rich Ornament that enclosed the Scaene in the upper part of which were great branches of Foliage growing out of leaves and huskes with a Coronice at the top and in the midst was placed a large Compartiment composed of Groteske worke wherein were Harpies with wings and Lyons clawes and their hinder parts converted into leaves and branches over all was a broken Frontispice wrought with scrowles and masque heads of Children and within this a Table adorn'd with a lesser Compartiment with this Inscription COELVM BRITANNICVM The two sides of this Ornament were thus ordered First from the ground arose a square Basement and on the Plinth stood a great vaze of gold richly enchased and beautified with Sculptures of great Releine with frutages hanging from the upper-part At the foot of this sate two youths naked in their naturall colours each of these with one arme supported the Vaze on the cover of which stood two young women in Draperies arme in arme the one figuring the glory of Princes and the other Mansuetude their other armes bore up an Ovall in which to the Kings Majesty was this Imprese A Lyon with an Imperiall Crowne on his head the word Animum sub pectore forti On the other side was the like Composition but the designe of the Figures varied and in the Oval on the top being borne up by Nobility and Fecundity was this Imprese to the Queens Majesty A Lilly growing with branches and leaves and three lesser Lillies springing out of the Stemme the Word Semper inclita Virtus All this Ornament was heightned with Gold and for the Invention and various composition was the newest and most gracious that hath beene done in this place The Curtaine was watchet and a pale yellow in paines which flying up on the sudden discovered the Scaene representing old Arches old Palaces decayed wals parts of Temples Theaters Basilita's and Therme with confused heaps of broken Columnes Bases Coronices and Statues lying as under-ground and altogether resembling the ruines of some great Citie of the ancient Romans or civiliz'd Brittaines This strange prospect detayn'd the eyes of the Spectators sometime when to a loud Musick Mercury descends on the upper part of his Chariot stands a Cocke in action of crowing his habit was a Coat of flame colour girt to him and a white Mantle trimm'd with gold and silver upon his head a wreath with small fals of white Feathers a Caduseus in his hand and wings at his heeles being come to the ground he dismounts and goes up to the State Mercury FRom the high Senate of the gods to You Bright glorious Twins of Love and Majesty Before whole Throne three wat◅ke Nations bend Their willing knees on whose Imperiall browes The Regall Circle prints no awfull frownes To fright your Subjects but whose calmer eyes Shed joy and safety on their melting hearts That flow with cheerefull loyall reverence Come my Cyllenius Ioves Ambassadour Not as of gold to whisper amorous tales Of wanton love into the glowing eare Of some choyce beauty in this numerons traines Those dayes are fled the
your servants that beare sway Here in your absence bade me say And beg besides you 'ld hither bring Only the mercy of a King And not the greatnesse since they have A thousand faults must pardon crave But nothing that is fit to waite Vpon the glory of your state Yet your gracious favour will They hope as heretofore shine still On their endeavours for they swore Should Jove descend they could no more Upon the sicknesse of E. S. MVst she then languish and we sorrow thus And no kind god helpe her nor pitty us Is justice fled from heaven can that permit A soule deformed ravisher to sit Vpon her Virgin cheek and pull from thence The Rose-buds in their maiden excellence To spread cold palenesse on her lips and chase The srighted Rubies from their native place To lick up with his searching flames a flood Of dissoly'd Corall flowing in her blood And with the dampes of his infectious breath Print on her brow moyst characters of death Must the cleare light 'gainst course of nature cease In her faire eyes and yet the flâ—…mes encrease Must feavers shake this goodly tree and all That ripened fruit from the faire branches fall Which Princes have desir'd to taste must she Who hath preserv'd her spotlesse chasiâ—…ie From all solicitation now at last By Agues and diseases be embrast Forbid it holy Dian else who shall Pay vowes or â—…et one graine of Incense fall On thy neglected Altars if thou blesse No better this thy zealous Votaresse Haste then O maiden Goddesse to her ayde Let on thy quiver her pale cheeke be layd And rock her fainting body in thine armes Then let the God of Musick with still charmes Her restlesse eyes in peacefull slumbers close And with soft straines sweeten her calme repose Cupid descend and whilst Apollo sings Fanning the coole ayre with thy panting wings Ever supply her with refreshing wind Let thy faire mother with her tresses bind Her labouring temples with whose balmie sweat She shall perfume her hairie Coronet Whose precious drops shall upon every fold Hang like rich Pearles about a wreath of gold Her looser locks as they unbraded lye Shall spread themselves into a Canopie Vnder whose shadow let her rest secure From chilling cold oâ—… burning Calenture Vnlesse she freeze with yee of chast desires Or holy Hymen kindle nuptiall fires And when at last Death comes to pierce her heart Convey into his hand thy golden dart A New-yeares Sacrifice To Lucinda THose that can give open their hands this day Those that cannot yet hold them up to pray That health may crowne the seasons of this yeare And mirth daunce round the circle that no teare Vnlesse of joy may with its brinie dew Discolour on your cheeke the rosie hue That no accesse of yeares presume to abate Your beauties ever-flourishing estate Such cheape and vulgar wishes I could lay As triviall offrings at your seet this day But that it were Apostasie in me To send a prayer to any Deitie But your divine selfe who have power to give Those blessings unto others such as live Like me by the sole influence of your eyes Whose faire aspects governe our destinies Such Incense vowes and holy rites as were To the involved Serpent of the yeare Payd by Egyptian Priests lay I before Lucinda's sacred shrine whilst I adore Her beauteous eyes and her pure Altars dresse With gums and spice of humble Thankfulnesse So may my Goddesse from her heaven inspire My frozen bosome with a Delphique fire And then the world shall by that glorious flame Behold the blaze of thy immortall name SONG To one who when I prais'd my Mistris beautie said I was blind Wonder not though I am blind For you must bee Darke in your eyes or in your mind If when you see Her face you prove not blind like me If the powerfull beames that flye From her eye And those amorous sweets that lye Scatter'd in each neighbouring part Find a passage to your heart Then you 'le confesse your mortall sight Too weake for such a glorious light For if her graces you discover You grow like me a dazeâ—…'d lover But if those beauties you not spy Then are you blinder farre then I. SONG To my Mistris I burning in love I Burne and cruell you in vaine Hope to quench me with disdaine If from your eyes those sparkles came That have kindled all this flame What bootes it me though now you shrowde Those fierce Comets in a cloude Since all the flames that I have selt Could your snow yet rever melt Nor can your snow though you should taks Alpâ—…s into your bosome slake The heate of my enamour'd heart But with wonder leâ—…ne Loves art No seaes of yee can â—…oole desire Equall flames must quench Loves fâ—…re Then thinke not that my heat can dye Till you burne aswell as I. SONG To her againe she burning in a Feaver NOw she burnes as well as I Yet my heat can never dye She burnes that never knew desire She that was yce she that was fire Shee whose cold heart chaste thoughts did ar me So as Loves flames could never warme The frozen bosome whereit dwelt She burnes and all her beauties melt She burnes and cryes Loves fires are milde Feavers are Gods He 's a childe Love let her know the difference Twixt the heat of soule and sence Touch her with thy flames divine So shalt thou quench her fire and mine Upon the Kings sicknesse SIcknesse the minister of death doth lay So strong a seige against our brittle clay As whilst it doth our weake sorts singly win It hopes at length to take all man-kind in First it begins upon the wombe to waite And doth the unborne child there uncreate Then rocks the cradle where the infant lyes Where e're it fully be alive it dyes It never leaves fond youth untill it have Found or an early or a later grave By thousand subtle sleights from heedlesse man It cuts the short allowance of a span And where both sober life and Art combine To keepe it out Age makes them both resigne Thus by degrees it onely gain'd of late The weake the aged or intemperate But now the Tyrant hath found out a way By which the sober strong and young decay Entring his royall limbes that is our head Through us his mystique limbs the paine is spread That man that doth not feele his part hath none In any part of his dominion If he hold land that earth is forfeited And he unfit on any ground to tread This griefe is felt at Court where it doth move Through every joynt like the true soule of love All those faire starres that doe attend on Him Whence they deriv'd their light wax pale and dim That ruddie morning beame of Majestie Which should the Suns ecclipsed light supply Is overcast with mists and in the liew Of cherefull rayes sends us downe drops of dew That curious forme made of an earth resin'd At whose blest birth the gentle
cordiall When first it joyn'd her Virgin snow to thinè Which when to day the Priest shall recombine From the misterious holy touch such charmes Will flow as shall unlock her wreathed armes And open a free passage to that fruit Which thou hast toyl'd for with a long pursuie But ere thou feed that thou may'st better taste Thy present joyes thinke on thy torments past Thinke on the mercy freed thee thinke upon Her vertues graces beauties one by one So shalt thou relish all enjoy the whole Delights of her faire body and pure soule Then boldly to the fight of Love proceed 'T is mercy not to pitty though she bleed Wee 'le strew no nuts but change that ancient forme For till to morrow wee 'le prorogue this storme Which shall confound with its loude whistling noyse Her pleasing shreekes and fan thy panting joyes For a Picture where a Queen Laments over the Tombe of a slaine Knight BRave Youth to whom Fate in one hower Grave death and Conquest by whose power Those chaines about my heart are wound With which the Foe my Kingdome bound Freed and captiv'd by thee I bring For either Act an offering For victory this wreathe of Bay In signe of Thraldome downe I lay Scepter and Crowne Take from my sight Those Royall Robes since fortunes spight Forbids me live thy Vertues prize I 'le dye thy Valours sacrifice To a Lady that desired I would love her 1. NOw you have freely given me leave to love What will you doe Shall I your mirth or pastime move When I begin 'to wooe Will you torment or scorne or love me too 2. Each pettie beautie can disdaine and I Spight of your hate Without your leave can see and dye Dispence a nobler Fate 'T is easie to destroy you may create 3. Then give me leave to love and love me too Not with designe To rayse as Loves curst Rebells doe When puling Poets whine Fame to their beautie from their blubbt'd eyne 4. Griefe is a puddle and reflects not cleare Your beauties rayes Joyes are pure streames your eyes appeare Sullen in sadder layes In chearfull numbers they shine bright with prayse 5. Which shall not mention to expresse you fayre Wounds flames and darts Stormes in your brow nets in your haire Suborning all your parts Or to betray or torture captive hearts 6. I 'le make your eyes like morning Suns appeare As milde and faire Your brow as Crystall smooth and cleare And your dishevell'd hayre Shall flow like a calme Region of the Ayre 7. Rich Natures store which is the Poets Treasure I 'le spend to dresse Your beauties if your mine of Pleasure In equall thankfulnesse You but unlocke so we each otherblesse Upon my Lord Chiefe Iustice his election of my Lady A. W. for his Mistresse 1. HEare this and tremble all Vsurping Beauties that create A government Tyrannicall In Loves free state Justice hath to the sword of your edg'd eyes His equall ballance joyn'd his sage head lyes In Loves soft lap which must be just and wise 2. Harke how the sterne Law breathes Forth amorous sighs and now prepares No fetters but of silken wreathes And braded hayres His dreadfull Rods and Axes are exil'd Whilst he sits crown'd with Roses Love hath fil'de His native roughnesse Justice is growne milde 3. The golden Age returnes Loves bowe and quiver uselesse lye His shaft his brand nor wounds nor burnes And crueltie Is sunke to Hell the fayre shall all be kind Who loves shall be belov'd the froward mind To a deformed shape shall be confin'd 4. Astraea hath possest An earthly seate and now remaines In Finthes heart but Wentworths brest That Guest containes With her she dwells yet hath not left the skies Nor lost her Spheare for new-enthron'd she cryes I know no Heaven but fayre Wentworths eyes To A. D. unreasonable distrustfull of her owne beauty FAyre Doris breake thy Glasse it hath perplext With a darke Comment beauties clearest Text It hath not told thy faces story true But brought false Copies to thy jealous view No colour feature lovely ayre or grace That ever yet adorn'd a beauteous face But thou maist reade in thine or justly doubt Thy Glasse hath beene suborn'd to leave it out But if it offer to thy nice survey A spot a staine a blemish or decay It not belongs to thee the treacherous light Or faithlesse stone abuse thy credulous sight Perhaps the magique of thy face hath wrought Vpon th' enchanted Crystall and so brought Fantasticke shadowes to delude thine eyes With ayrie repercussive sorceries Or else th' enamoured Image pines away For love of the fayre Object and so may Waxe pale and wan and though the substance grow Lively and fresh that may consume with woe Give then no faith to the false specular stone But let thy beauties by th' effects be knowne Looke sweetest Doris on my love-sick heart In that true mirrour see how fayre thou art There by Loves never-erring Pensill drawne Shalt thou behold thy face like th' early dawne Shoot through the shadie covert of thy hayre Enameling and perfuming the calme Ayre With Pearles and Roses till thy Suns display Their lids and let out the imprison'd day Whilst Delfique Priests enlightned by their Theame In amorous numbers count thy golden beame And from Loves Altars cloudes of sighes arise In smoaking Incence to adore thine eyes If then Love flow from Beautie as th' effect How canst thou the resistlesse cause suspect Who would not brand that Foole that should contenâ—… There were no fire where smoke and flames ascend Distrust is worse then scorne not to beleeve My harmes is greater wrong then not to grieve What cure can sor my festring sore be found Whilst thou beleev'st thy beautie cannot wound Such humble thoughts more cruell Tyrants prove Then all the pride that e're usurp'd in Love For Beauties Herald here denounceth war There her false spies betray me to a snare If fire disguis'd in balls of snow were hurl'd It unsuspected might consume the world Where our prevention ends danger begins So Wolves in Sheepes Lyons in Asses skins Might farre more mischiefe worke because lesse fear'd Those the whole flock these might kill all the herd Appeare then as thou art break through this cloude Confesse thy beauty though thou thence grow proud Be faire though scornfull rather let me find Thee cruell then thus mild and more unkind Thy crueltie doth only me defie But these dull thoughts thee to thy selfe denie Whether thou meane to bartar or bestow Thy selfe 't is fit thou thine owne valew know I will not cheate thee of thy selfe nor pay Lesse for thee then th' art worth thou shalt not say That is but brittle glasse which I have sound By strict enquirie a firme Diamond I 'le trade with no such Indian foole as sells Gold Pearles and pretious stones for Beads and Beils Nor will I take a present from your hand Which you or prize not or not understand It not endeares your bountie that
desires His Kingdome knowes no rule but this What ever pleaseth lawfull is Thy sacred Lore shewes us the path Of Modestie and constant faith Which makes the rude Male satisfied With one faire Female by his side Doth either sex to each unite And forme loves pure Hermophradite To this Thy faith behold the wilde Satyr already reconciled Who from the influence of Thine eye Hath suckt the deepe Divinitie O free them then that they may teach The Centaur and the Horsman preach To Beasts and Birds sweetly to rest Each in his proper Lare and nest They shall convey it to the floud Till there Thy law be understood So shalt thou with thy pregnant fire The water earth and ayre inspire To the New-yeare for the Countesse of Carlile GIve Lucinda Pearle nor Stone Lend them light who else have none Let Her beautis shine alone Gums not spice bring from the East For the Phenix in Her brest Builds his funerall pile and nest No tyre thou canst invent Shall to grace her forme be sâ—…nt She adornes all ornament Give Hernothing but restore These sweet smiles which heretofore In Her chearfull eyes she wore Drive those envious cloudes away Vailes that have o're-cast my day And ecclips'd Her brighter ray Leâ—… the royall Goth mowe downe This yeares harvest with his owne Sword and spare Lucinda's frowne Janus if when next I trace Those sweet lines I in her face Reade the Charter of my grace Then from bright Apollo's tree Such a Garland wreath'd shall be As shall Crowne both Her and thee To my Honoured friend Master Thomas May upon his Comedie The Heire THe Heire being borne was in his tender age Rockt in the Cradle of a private Stage Where lifted up by many a willing hand The child did from the first day fairely stand Since having gather'd strength he dares preferre His steps into the publike Theater The World where he dispaires not but to find A doome from men more able not lesse kind I but his Vsher am yet if my word May passe I dare be bound he will afford Things must deserve a welcome if well knowne Such as best writers would have wisht their owne You shall observe his words in order meet And softly stealing on with equall feet Slide into even numbers with such grace As each word had beene moulded for that place You shall perceive an amorous passion spâ—…ne Into so smooth a web as had the Sunne When he pursu'd the swiftly flying Maid Courted her in such language she had staid A love so well exprest must be the same The Authour felt himselfe from his faire flame The whole plot doth alike it selfe disclose Through the five Acts as doth the Locke that goes With letters for till every one be knowne The Lock 's as fast as if you had found none And where his sportive Muse doth draw a thread Of mirth chast Matrons may not blush to reade Thus have I thought it fitter to reveale My want of art deare friend then to conceale My love It did appeare I did not meane So to commend thy well-wrought Gomick-scene As men might judge my aime rather to be To gaine praise to my selfe then give it thee Though I can give thee none but what thou hast Deserv'd and what must my faint breath out-last Yet was this garment though I skillesse be To take thy measure onely made for thee And if it prove to scant 't is cause the stuffe Nature allow'd me was not large enough To my worthy friend Master Geo. Sands on his translation of the Psalmes I Presse not to the Quire nor dare I greet The holy place with my unhallowed feet My unwasht Muse polutes not things Divine Nor mingles her prophaner notes with thine Here humbly at the porch she stayes And with glad eares sucks in thy sacred layes So devout penitents of Old were wont Some without dore and some beneath the Font To stand and heare the Churches Liturgies Yet not assist the solemne exercise Sufficeth her that she a lay-place gaine To trim thy Vestments or but beare thy traine Though not in tune not wing she reach thy Larke Her Lyrick feet may dance before the Arke Who knowes but that her wandring eyes that run Now hunting Glow-wormes may adore the Sun A pure flame may shot by Almighty power Into her brest the earthy flame devoure My eyes in penitentiall dew may steepe That brine which they for sensuall love did weepe So though 'gainst Natures course fire may be quench With fire and water be with water drencht Perhaps my restlesse soule tyr'de with persuit Of mortall beauty seeking without fruit Contentment there which hath not when enjoy'd Quencht all her thirst nor satisfi'd though â—…oy'd Weary of her vaine search below Above In the first faire may find th' immortall Love Prompted by thy example then no more In moulds of clay will I my God adore But teare those Idols from my heart and write What his blest Sprit not fond Love shall indite Then I no more shall court the verdant Bay But the dry leavelesse Trunke on Golgotha And rather strive to gaine from thence one Thorne Then all the flourishing wreathes by Laureats worne To my much honoured friend HENRY Lord CARY of Lepington upon his translation of MALVEZZI My Lord IN every triviall worke 't is knowne Translators must be masters of their owne And of their Authors language but your taske A greater latitude of skill did aske For your Malvezzi first requir'd a man To teach him speake vulgar Italian His matter 's so sublime so now his phrase So farre above the stile of Bemboe's dayes Old Varchies rules or what the Grusca yet For currant Tâ—…uscan mintage will admit As I beleeve your Marquesse by a good Part of his Natives hardly understood You must expect no happier fate 't is true He is of noble birth of nobler you So not your thoughts nor words â—…it common eares He writes and you translate both to your Peeres To my worthy Friend M. D'AVENANT Vpon his Excellent Play The Iust Italian I 'Le not mispend in praise the narrow roome I borrow in this leafe the Garlands bloome From thine owne seedes that crowne each glorious page Of thy triumphant worke the sullen Age Requires a Satyre What starre guides the soule Of these our froward times that dare controule Yet dare not learne to judge When didst thou flie From hence cleare candid Ingenuitie I have beheld when pearch'd on the smooth brow Of a faire modest troope thou didst allow Applause to slighter workes but then the weake Spectator gave the knowing leave to speake Now noyse prevailes and he is tax'd for drowth Of wit that with the crie spends not his mouth Yet aske him reason why he did not like Him why he did their ignorance will strike Thy soule with scorne and Pity marke the places Provoke their smiles frownes or distorted faces When they admire nod shake the head they 'le be A seene of myrth a double Comedie But
old men looke I sweare to thee though none abhorre them Yet I doe not love thee for them I doe not love thee for that faire Rich fanne of thy most curious haire Though the wires thereof be drawne Finer then the threeds of lawne And are softer then the leaves On which the subtle spinner weaues I doe not love thee for those flowers Growing on thy cheeks loves bowers Though such cunning them hath spread None can paint them whit and red Loves golden arrowes thence are shot Yet for them I loue thee not I doe not love thee for those soft Red coâ—…rall lips I 've kist so oft Nor teeth of pearle the double guard To speech whence musickâ—… still is heard Though from those lips a kisse being taken Might tyrants melt and death awaken I doe not love thee ô my fairest For that richest for that rarest Silver pillar which stands vnder Thy sound head that globe of wonder Though that neeke be whiter farre Then towers of pollisht Ivory are I doe not love thee for those mountaineâ—… Hill'd with snow whence milkey fountaines Suger'd sweets as sirropt berries Must one day run through pipes of cherries ô how much those breasts doe move me Yet for them I doe not love thee I doe not love thee for that belly Sleeke as satten soft as jelly Though within that Christall round Heapes of treasure might be found So rich that for the best of them A King might leave his Diadem I doenot love thee for those thighes Whose Alablaster rocks doe â—…ise So high and even that they stand Like Sea-markes to some happy land Happy are those eyes have seene them More happy they that saile betweene them I love thee not for thy moist palme Though the dew there of be balme Nor for thy pretty legge and foote Although it be the precious roote On which this goodly cedar growes Sweete I love thee not for those Nor for thy wit though pure and quicke Whose substance no arithmeticke Can number downe nor for those charmes Mask't in thy embracing armes Though in them one night to lie Dearest I would gladly die I love not for those eyes nor haire Nor cheekes nor lips nor teeth so rare Nor for thy speech thy necke nor breast Nor for thy belly nor the rest Nor for thy hand nor foote so small But wouldst thou know deere sweet for all On sight of a Gentlewomans face in the water STand still you floods doe not desaâ—…e That Image which you beare So Votaries from every place To you shall Alters reare No winds but Lovers sighs blow here To trouble these glad streames On which no starre from any Spheare Did ever dart such beames To Christall then in hast cougeale Least you should loose your blisse And to my cruell faire reveale How cold how hard she is But if the envious Nymphes shall feare Their beauties will be scorn'd And hire the ruder winds to teare That face which you adorn'd Then rage and foame amaine that we Their malice may despise When from your froath we soone shall see A second Venus â—…ise A Song ASke me no more where Iove bestowes When Iune is past the fading rose For in your beauties orient deepe These flowers as in their causes sleepe Aske me no more whether doth stray The golden Atomes of the day For in pure love heaven did prepare Those powders to inrich your haire Aske me no more whether doth hast The Nightingale when May is past For in your sweet dividing throat She winters and keepes warme her note Aske me no more where those starres light That downewards fall in dead of night For in your eyes they sit and there Fixed become as in their sphere Aske me no more if East or West The Phenix builds her spicy nest For vnto you at last shee flies And in your fragrant bosome dyes Song WOuld you know what 's soft I dare Not bring you to the downe or aire Nor to starres to shew what 's bright Nor to snow to teach you white Nor if you would Musicke heare Call the orbes to take your eare Nor to please your sence bring forth Bruised Nâ—…d or what 's more worth Or on food were your thoughts plac'd Bring you Nectar for a tast Would you have all these in one Name my mistris and 't is done The second Rapture NO worldling no t is not thy gold Which thou dost use but to behold Nor fortune honour nor long life Children or friends nor a good wife That makes thee haypy these things be But shaddowes of felicitie Give me a wench about thirteene Already voted to the Queene Of lust and lovers whose soft haire Fann'd with the breath of gentle aire O're spreads her shoulders like a tent And is her vaile and ornament Whose tender touch will make the blood Wild in the aged and the good Whose kisses fastned to the mouth Of threescore yeares and longer slouth Renew the age and whose bright eye Obscure those lesser lights of skie Whose snowy breasts if we may call That snow that never melts at all Makes Jove invent a new disguise In spite of Iunoes jealousies Whos 's every part doth re-invite The old decayed appetite And in whose sweet imbraces I May melt myselfe to lust and die This is true blisse and I confesse There it no other happinesse The Hue and Cry IN Ioves name you are charg'd hereby To make a speedy Hue and Crie After a face which t'other day Stole my wandring heart away To direct you these in briefe Are ready markes to know the theife Her haire a net of beames would prove Strong enough to captive Jove In his Eagles shape Her brow Is a comely field of snow Her eye so rich so pure a grey Every beame creates a day And if she but sleepe not when The sun sets 't is night agen In her cheekes are to be seene Of flowers both the King and Queene Thither by the graces led And freshly laid in nuptiall bed On whom lips like Nymphes doe waite Who deplore their virgin state Oft they blush and blush for this That they one another kisse But observe besides the rest You shall know this Fell on best By her tongue for if your eare Once a heavenly musicke heare Such as neither Gods nor Men But from that voice shall heare ageâ—… That that iâ—… she O strait surprise And bring her unto loves Assize If you let her goe she may Antedate the latter day Fate and Philosophy controle And leavethe world without a soule To his Mistris confined Song O Thinke not Phoebe 'cause a cloud Doth now thy silver brightnes shrowd My wandring eye Can stoope to common beauties of the Skye Rather be kind and this Ecclips Shall neither binder eye nor lips For wee shall meete Within our hearts and kisse and none shall see 't Nor canst thou in thy prison be Without some living signe of me When thou dost spye A Sun beame peepe into the roome 't is J. For I am hid within a