of the Spheares When Quills could move no more and force did faile Though down I fell from Heavens high azure bounds Yet doth Renowne my Losses countervaile For still the Shore my brave attempt resounds A Sea an Element doth beare my Name What Mortalls Tombe's so great in Place or Fame On his Lady beholding her selfe in a Marble WOrld wonder not that I Keep in my brest engraven That Angels face hath me of Rest bereaven See Dead and Senselesse things cannot deny To lodge so deare a Guest Ev'n this hard Marble Stone Receives the same and loves but cannot groane To sleep HOw comes it Sleep that thou Even kisses me affords Of her deare her so far who 's absent now How did I heare those Words Which Rocks might move and move the Pines to Bow Aye me before halfe day Why did'st thou steale away Returne I thine for ever will remaine If thou wilt bring with thee that Guest againe A pleasant deceit OVer a christall Source Iolas laid his face Of purling Streames to see the restlesse Course But scarce he had o'reshadowed the Place When in the water he a Child espies So like himselfe in stature Face and Eyes That glad he rose and cried Deare Mates approach see whom I have descried The Boy of whom strange stories Shepheards tell Oft-called Hylas dwelleth in this Well The Canon WHen first the Canon from her gaping Throat Against the Heaven her roaring Sulphur shot Jove wakened with the noise did aske with wonder What Mortall Wight had stolne from him his Thunder His christall Tow'rs he feared but Fire and Aire So high did stay the Ball from mounting there Thais Metamorphosis INto Briareus huge Thais wish'd she might change Her Man and pray'd him not thereat to grudge Nor fondly thinke it strange For if said she I might the parts dispose I wish you not a hundred Armes nor Hands But hundred things like those With which Priapus in our Garden stands The quality of a Kisse THe kisse with so much strife Which I late got sweet Heart Was it a sign of Death or was it Life Of Life it could not be For I by it did sigh my Soule in thee Ne was it Death Death doth no joy impart Thou silent stand'st ah what did'st thou bequeath A dying Life to me or living Death His Ladies Dog WHen Her deare Bosome clips That little Cur which fawnes to touch her Lips Or when it is his hap To lie lap'd in her Lap O it grows Noon with me With hotter-pointed Beames I burne then those are which the Sun forth streames When piercing lightning his Rayes call'd may be And as I muse how I to shose extreames Am brought I find no Cause except that She In Loves bright Zodiack having trac'd each Roome To the hot Dog-star now at last is come An Almanack THis strange Ecclipse one saies Strange Wonders doth foretell But you whose Wives excell And love to count their Praise Shut all your gates your Hedges plant with Thornes The Sun did threat the World this time with Hornes The Silk-Worme of Love A Daedale of my Death Now I resemble that slie worme on Earth Which prone to its own harme doth take no rest For Day and Night opprest I feed on fading Leaves Of Hope which me deceives And thousand Webs do warpe within my Brest And thus in end unto my selfe I weave A fast-shut Prison or a closer Grave Deep impression of Love to his Mistris WHom a mad Dog doth bite He doth in Water still That mad Dogs Image see Love mad perhaps when he my Heart did smite More to dissemble his Ill Transform'd himselfe to thee For thou art present ever since to me No Spring there is no Floud nor other Place Where I alas not see thy Heavenly Face A Chaine of Gold ARe not those Locks of Gold Sufficient Chaines the wildest Hearts to hold Is not that Ivory Hand A Diamantine Band Most sure to keep the most untamed Mind But ye must others find O yes why is that Golden One then woâ—ne Thus free in Chaines perhaps Loves Chaines to scorne On the Death of a Linnet IF cruell Death had Eares Or could be pleas'd by Songs This wing'd Musician had lâ—v'd many yeares And Nisa mine had never wâ—pt these Wrongs For when it first took Breath The Heavens their Notes did unto it bequeath And if that Samians sentences be true Amphion in this Body liv'd anew But Death who nothing spares and nothing heares As he doth Kings kill'd it O Griefe O Teares Lillas Prayer LOve if thou wilt once more That I to thee returne Sweet God make me not burn For quivering Age that doth spent Daies deplore Nor do thou wound my Heart For some unconstant Boy Who joyes to love yet makes of Love a Toy But ah if I must prove thy golden Dart Of grace O let me find A sweet young Lover with an aged Mind Thus Lilla pray'd and Idas did reply Who heard Deare have thy wish for such am I. Armelins Epitaph NEare to this Eglantine Enclosed lies the milke-white Armeline Once Cloris only joy Now only her annoy Who envied was of the most happy Swaines That keep their Flocks in Mountaines Dales or Plains For oft she bore the wanton in her Arme And oft her Bed and Bosome did he warme Now when unkinder Fates did him destroy Blest Dog he had the Grace That Cloris for him wet with teares her Face Epitaph THe Bawd of Justice he who Laws controll'd And made them fawn and frown as he got gold That Proteus of our State whose Heart and Mouth Were farther distant than is North from South That Cormorant who made himselfe so grosse On Peoples Ruine and the Princes Losse Is gone to Hell and though he here did evill He there perchance may prove an honest Devill A Translation FIerce Robbers were of old Exil'd the Champian Ground From Hamlets chas'd in Cities kill'd or bound And only Woods Caves Mountaines did them hold But now when all is sold Woods Mountaines Caves to good Men be refuge And do the Guiltlesse lodge And clad in Purple Gowns The greatest Theeves command within the Towns Epitaph THen Death thee hath beguil'd Alectos first borne Child Then thou who thrall'd all Laws Now against Wormes cannot maintaine thy Cause Yet Wormes more just than thou now do no Wrong Since all do wonder they thee spar'd so long For though from Life thou didst but lately passe Twelve Springs are gone since thou corrupted was Come Citizens erect to death an Altar Who keeps you from Axe Fuell Timber Halter A Jest. IN a most holy Church a holy man Vnto a holy Saint with Visage wan And Eyes like Fountaines mumbled forth a Prayer And with strange Words and Sighs made black the Aire And having long so stay'd and long long pray'd A thousand crosses on himselfe he lay'd And with some sacred Beads hung on his Armâ— His Eyes his Mouth his Temples Brest did charme Thus not content strange Worship hath no
those within but to come forth do venter That stately Place againe they never enter The Precinct's strengthened with a Ditch of Feares In which doth swell a Lake of Inky Teares Of madding Lovers who abide their moaning And thicken even the Aire with pitious groaning This Hold to brave the Skies the Destines fram'd And then the Fort of Chastity is nam'd The Queen of the third Heaven once to appall it The God of Thrace Here brought who could not thrall it For which he vow'd ne're Arms more to put on And on Riphean Hils was heard to groan Here Psyches Lover hurles his Darts at randon Which all for nought him serve as doth his Brandon What grievous Agony did invade my Mind When in that Place my Hope I saw confin'd Where with high-towring Thoughts I only reacht her Which did burne up their Wings when they approacht her Me thought I set me by a Cypresse shade And Night and Day the Hyacinthe there read And that bewailing Nightingales did borrow Plaints of my Plaint and sorrows of my Sorrow My food was Worm-wood mine own Teares my drinke My rest on Death and sad Mishaps to thinke And for such Thoughts to have my Heart enlarged And ease mine Eyes with brinie Tribute charged Over a Brook I laid my pining Face But then the Brooke as griev'd at my Disgrace A Face Me shew'd so pin'd sad over-clouded That at the Sight afray'd mine Eyes them shrowded This is the guerdon Love this is the Game In end which to thy Servants doth remaine More would I say when Feare made Sleep to leave me And of those fatall Shadows did bereave me But ah alas instead to dreame of Love And Woes I now them in effect did prove For what into my troubled Braine was painted Awak'd I found that Time and Place presented SONNETS AH burning Thoughts now let me take some Rest And your tumultuous Broyles a while appease Is 't not enough Stars Fortune Love molest Me all at once but ye must too displease Let Hope though false yet lodge within my brest My high Attempt though dangerous yet praise What though I trace not right Heavens steppy waies It doth suffice my Fall shall make me blest I do not doat on Daies I feare not Death So that my Life be good I wish't not long Let me Renown'd live from the Worldly Throng And when Heaven lists recall this borrowed Breath Men but like Visions are Time all doth claime He lives who dies to win a lasting Name SON THat learned Grecian who did so excell In Knowledge passing Sense that he is nam'd Of all the after Worlds Divine doth tell That all the Time when first our Soules are fram'd Ere in these Mansions blind they come to dwell They live bright Rayes of that Eternall light And others see know love in Heavens great height Not toyld with ought to Reason do rebell It is most true for straight at the first sight My Mind me told that in some other place It elsewhere saw th' Idea of that face And lov'd a love of Heavenly pure delight What wonder now I feele so faire a flame Sith I her lov'd ere on this Earth She came SON NOr Arne nor Mincius nor stately Tiber Sebethus nor the Flood into whose streames He fell who burnt the world with borrowed beames Gold-rolling Tagus Munda famous Iber Sorgue Rosne Loire Garron nor proud-banked Seinâ— Peneus Phasis Xanthus humble Ladon Nor She whose Nymphes excell her loved Adon Faire Tamesis nor Ister large nor Rheine Euphrates Tigrâ—s Indus Hermus Gange Pearly Hydaspes Serpent-like Meander The Floud which robbed Hero of Leander Nile that far far his hidden Head doth range Have ever had so rare a cause of praise As Ora where this Northerne Phoenix stayes SON TO heare my plaints faire River Christalline Thou in a silent slumber seems to stay Delicious Flowers Lilly and Columbine Ye bow your Heads when I my Woes display Forrests in you the Mirtle Palme and Bay Have had compassion listning to my groanes The Winds with sighs have solemniz'd my moanes 'Mong leaves which whisper'd what they could not say The Caves the Rocks the Hills the Sylvans Thrones As if even pitty did in them appeare Have at my sorrow rent their ruthlesse stones Each thing I find hath sence except my Deare Who doth not thinke I love or will not know My Griefe perchance delighting in my woe SON SWeet Brook in whose cleare Christall I my eyes Have oft seen great in labour of their teares Enamell'd Banke whose shining gravell beares These sad Characters of my miseries High Woods whose mounting tops menace the Sphears Wild Citizens Amphions of the Trees You gloomy Groves at hottest Noons which freeze Elysian shades which Phoebus never cleares Vaste solitary Mountaines pleasant Plaines Embroydred Meads that Ocean-waies you reach Hills Dales Springs All whom my sad cry constraines To take part of my plaints and learne woes speech Will that remorselesse faire e're pity show Of grace now answer if ye ought know No. SON WIth flaming Horns the Bull now brings the yeare Melt do the Mountains rouling flouds of Snow The silver Rivers in smooth Channels flow The Late-bare Woods green Anadeams do weare The Nightingall forgetting Winters woe Cals up the lazy Morne her notes to heare Spread are those Flow'rs which names of Princes beare Some red some azure white and golden grow Here lowes a Heifer there be-wailing strayes A harmelesse Lambe not far a Stag rebounds The Shepheards sing to grazing flocks sweet Layes And all about the Ecchoing Aire resounds Hils Dales Woods Flouds ev'ry thing doth change But She in rigour I in Love am strange SON THat I so slenderly set forth my Mind Writing I wot not what in ragged Rimes Orecharg'd with brasse in these so golden Times When otherâ— towre so high am left behind I crave not Phoebus leave his sacred Cell To bind my Brows with fresh Aonian Baies But leave 't to those who tuning Sweetest Laies By Tempe sit or Aganippes Well Nor yet to Venus Tree do I aspire Sith She for whom I might affect that praise My best attempts with cruell words gainsaies And I seek not that others me admire Of weeping Myrrhe the Crowne is which I crave With a sad Cypresse to adorne my Grave MADRIGALL WHen as She smiles I find More light before mine Eyes Than when the Sun from Inde Brings to our World a flowry Paradise But when She gently weeps And poures forth pearly showers On cheeks faire blushing flowers A sweet melancholy my senses keeps Both feed so my disease So much both do me please That oft I doubt which more my heart doth burne Love to behold her smile or Pitty mourne SON MY Teares may well Numidian Lions tame And Pity breed into the hardest heart That ever Pyrrha did to Maid impart When She them first of blushing Rocks did frame Ah Eyes which only serve to waile my smart How long will you my inward Woes proclaime May 't not suffice
For humanes Earth enjoying Angels Heaven Swift is your mortall Race And glassie is the Field Vaste are Desires not limited by Grace Life a weake Taper is Then while it light doth yeeld Leave flying Joyes embrace this lasting Blisse This when the Nymph had said Shâ—e div'd within the Floud Whose Face with smyling Curles long after staid Then Sighs did Zephyres presse Birds sang from every Wood And Ecchoes rang this was true Happinesse An Hymne on the Fairest Faire I Feele my Bosome glow with wontlesse Fires Rais'd from the vulgar presse my Mind aspires Wing'd with high Thoughts unto his praise to clime From deep Eternity who call'd forth Time That Essence which not mov'd makes each thing move Uncreate Beauty all-creating Love But by so great an object radiant light My Heart appall'd enfeebled rests my Sight Thick Clouds benight my labouring Ingine And at my high attempts my Wits repine If thou in me this sacred heat hast wrought My Knowledge sharpen Sarcells lend my Thought Grant me Times Father world-containing King A Pow'r of thee in pow'rfull Laies to sing That as thy Beauty in Earth lives Heaven shines It dawning may or shadow in my Lines As far beyond the starry walls of Heaven As is the loftiest of the Planets seven Sequestred from this Earth in purest light Out-shining ours as ours doth sable Night Thou all-sufficient Omnipotent Thou ever-glorious most excellent God various in Names in Essence one High art enstalled on a golden Throne Out-stretching Heavens wide bespangled vault Transcending all the Circles of our Thought With diamantine Scepter in thy Hand There thou giv'st Laws and dost this World command This World of Concords rais'd unlikely sweet Which like a Ball lies prostrate at thy Feet If so we may well say and what we say Here wrapt in flesh led by dim Reasons ray To show by earthly Beauties which we see That spirituall Excellence that shines in thee Good Lord forgive not far from thy right Side With curled Locks Youth ever doth abide Rose-cheeked Youth who gaâ—landed with Flow'rs Still blooming ceaselessely unto thee pow'rs Immortall Nectar in a cup of Gold That by no darts of Ages thou grow old And as ends and beginnings thee not claime Successionlesse that thou be still the same Neare to thy other side resistlesse Might From Head to Foot in burnisht Armour dight That rings about him with a waving Brand And watchfull Eye great Sentinell doth stand That neither Time nor force in ought impaire Thy Workmanship nor harme thine Empire faire Soone to give Death to all againe that would Sterne Discord raise which thou destroy'd of old Discord that foe to order Nurse of War By which the noblest things demolisht are But caitife she no Treason doth devise When Might to nought doth bring her enterprise Thy all-upholding Might her Malice raines And her to Hell throws bound in iron Chaines With Locks in waves of Gold that ebbe and flow On Ivory neck in Robes more white than Snow Truth stedfastly before thee holds a Glasse Indent'd with Gems where shineth all that was That is or shall be here ere ought was wrought Thou knew all that thy Pow'r with time forth brought And more things numberlesse which thou couldst make That actually shall never being take Here thou beholdst thy selfe and strange dost prove At once the Beauty Lover and the Love With Faces two like Sisters sweetly faire Whose Blossomes no rough Autumne can impaire Stands Providence and doth her looks disperse Through every Corner of this Universe Thy Providence at once which generall things And singular doth rule as Empires Kings Without whose care this world lost would remaine As Ship withou a Master in the Maine As Chariot alone as Bodies prove Depriv'd of Soules whereby they be live move But who are they which shine thy Throne so neare With sacred countenance and look severâ— This in one hand a pondrous Sword doth hold Her left staies charg'd with Ballances of Gold That with Brows girt with â—ays sweet-smiling Face Doth beare a Brandon with a babish grace Two milke-white Wings him easily do move O she thy Justice is and this thy Love By this thou brought'st this Engine great to light By that it fram'd in Number Measure Weight That destine doth reward to ill and good But Sway of Justice is by Love withstood Which did it not relent and mildly stay This World ere now had found its funerall Day What Bands enâ—â—â—ctred neare to thâ—se abide Which into vaste Infinity them hide Infinity that neither doth admiâ— Place Time nor Number to 〈◊〉 on it Here Bounty sparkleth here doth Beauty shine Simplicity more white than Gelsomine Mercy with open wings aye-varied Blisse Glory and Joy that Blisses darling is Ineffable all-pow'rfull God all free Thou only liv'st and each thing lives by thee No Joy no nor Perfection to thee came By the contriving of this Worlds great Frame Ere Sun Moon Stars began their restlesse race Ere painted was with light Heavens pâ—re Face Ere Aire had Clâ—uâ—s ere Clouds wept down their show'rs Ere Sea embraced Earth ere Earth bare Flow'rs Thou happy liv'dst World nought to thee supply'd All in thy selfe thy selfe thou satisfi'd Of Good no slender Shadow doth appeare No age-worne tâ—aâ—ke which shin'd in thee not cleare Perfections Sum prime-cause of every Cause Midst end beginning where all good doth pause Hence of thy Substance differing in nought Thou in Eâ—ernity thy Son forth brought The only Birth of thy unchanging Mind Thine Image Pattern-like that ever shin'd Light out of Light begotten not by Will But Naâ—ure all and that same Essence still Which thou thy selfe for thou dost nought possesse Which he hath not in ought nor is he lesse Thâ—â— Thee his great Begâ—ttâ—â— of this Light Eternall Double kindled was thy Spright Eternally who is with Thee the same All-holy Gift Embassadour Knot Flame Most sacred Triad O most holy One Unprocreate Father â—ver-procreate Son Ghost breath'd from both you were are still shall be Most blessed Three in One and One in Three Uncomprehensible by reachlesse Hight And unperceived by excessive Light So in our Soules three and yet one are still The Vnderstanding Memory and Will So though unlike the Planet of the Daies So soone as he was made begat his Raies Which are his Off-spring and from both was hurld The rosie Light which consolates the World And none fore-went another so the spring The Well-head and the Streame which they forth bring Are but one selfe-same Essence not in ought Do differ save in order and our Thought No chime of Time discernes in them to fall But Three distinctly â—ide one Essence all But these expresse not Thee who can declare Thy being Men and Angels dazel'd are Who would this Eden force with wit or sense A Cherubin shall find to bar him thence Great Architect Lord of this Universe That light is blinded would thy Greatnesse pierce Ah! as a Pilgrim who the Alpes doth passe Or Atlas Temples crown'd
never want Delight even when I grone Best companied when most I am alone A Heaven of Hopes I have midst Hells of Feares Thus every way Contentment strange I find But most in Her rare Beauty my rare Mind SON VAunt not fair Heavens of your two glorious Lights Which though â—ost bright yet see not when they shine And shining cannot show their Beames divine Both in one Place but part by Daies and Nights Earth vaunt not of those Treasures ye enshrine Held only deare because hid from our Sights Your pure and burnish'd Gold your Diamonds fine Snow-passing Ivory that the Eye delights Nor Seas of those deare Wares are in you found Vaunt not rich Pearle red Corrall which do stir A fond desire in Fooles to plunge your Ground These all more faire are to be had in Her Pearle Ivory Corrall Diamond Suns Gold Teeth Neck Lips Heart Eyes Haire are to behold SON WHen Nature now had wonderfully wrought All Auristellas Parts except her Eyes To make those Twins two Lamps in Beauties Skies She Counsell of her Starry Seâ—aâ—e sought Mars and Apollo first did her advise To wrap in Colour Black those Comets bright Thâ—t Love him so might soberly disguise And unperceived Wound at every Sight Chaste Phoebe spake for purest azure dies But Jove and Venus green about the Light To frame thought best as bringing most Delight That to pin'd Hearts Hope might for aye arise Nature all said a Paradise of green There plac'd to make all love which have them seen SON NOw while the Night her â—able Vaile hath spred And silently her resty Coach doth rolle Rowsing with Her from Tethis azure Bed Those starry Nymphs which dance about the Pole While Cynthia in purest Cipres cled The Laâ—mian Shepheard in a â—rance descries And looking pale from height of all the Skies She dies her Beauties in a blushing Red While Sleep in Triumph closed hath all Eyes And Birds and Beasts a Silence sweet do keep And Proteus monstrous People in the Deep The Winds and Waves husht up to rest entise I wake I turne I weep opprest with Paine Perplex'd in the Meanders of my Braine SON SLeep Silence Child sweet Father of soft Rest Prince whose Approach Peace to all Mortals brings Indifferent Host to Shepheards and to Kings Sole Comforter of Minds which are opprest Loe by thy Charming Rod all breathing Things Lie slumbring with Forgetfulnesse possest And yet o're me to spread thy drowsie Wings Thou spar'st alas who cannot be thy Guest Since I am thine O come but with that Face To inward Light which thou art wont to shew With fained Solace ease a true felt Woe Or if deafe God thou do deny that Grace Come as thou wilt and what thou wilt bequeath I long to kisse the Image of my Death SON FAire Moone who with thy cold and silver Shine Makes sweet the Horror of the dreadfull Night Delighting the weake Eye with smiles divine Which Phoebus dazels with his too much Light Bright Queen of the first Heaven if in thy Shrine By turning oft and Heavens eternall Might Thou hast not yet that once sweet Fire of thine Endemion forgot and Lovers Plight If Cause like thine may Pity breed in thee And Pity somewhat else to it obtaine Since thou hast Power of Dreames as well as He That holds the golden Rod and Morall Chaine Now while She sleeps in dolefull Guise her Show These Teares and the black Map of all my Woe SON LAmpe of Heavens Christall Hall that brings the Houres Eye-dazeler who makes the ugly Night At thy Approach flie to her slumbry Bowres And fills the World with Wonder and Delight Life of all lives Death-giver by thy flight To the south Pole from these sixe Signes of ours Gold-smith of all the Stars with Silver bright Who Moone enamells Apelles of the Flowers Ah from those watry Plaines thy golden Head Raise up and bring the so long lingring Morne A Grave nay Hell I find become this Bed This Bed so grievously where I am torne But woe is me though thou now brought the Day Day shall but serve moe Sorrows to display SONG IT was the time when to our Northerne Pole The brightest Lampe of Heaven begins to rolle When Earth more wanton in new Robes appeareth And scorning Skies her Flowres in Rain-bows beareth On which the Aire moist Diamonds doth bequeath Which quake to feele the kissing Zephires breath When Birds from shady Groves their Love forth warble And Sea-like Heaven Heaven looks like smoothest Marble When I in simple course free from all Cares Far from the muddy Worlds inslaving snares By Oras flowry Bankes alone did wander Ora that sports her like to old Meander A Floud more worthy Fame and lasting praise Then that so high which Phaëtons fall did raise By whose pure moving Glasse the Milke-white Lillies Do dresse their tresses and the Daffadâ—llies Where Ora with a Wood is crown'd about And seems forgets the way how to come out A place there is where a delicious Fountaine Springs frâ—m the swelling brest of a proud Mountaine Whose falling Streames the quiet Cavernes wound And make the Echoes shrill resound that sound The Laurâ—ll there the shing Channell graces The Palm hâ—r Love with long-stretch'd Arms embraces The Poplar spreads her Branches to the Skie And hides from sight that azure Canopy The Streams the Trees the Trees their leaves still nourish That Place grave Winter finds â—ot without flourish If living Eyes Elysian fields could see This little Arden might Elysium be Oft did Diana there her selfe repose And Maâ—s the Acidaliaâ— Queen enclose The Nymphs oft here their baskets bring with Flow'rs And Anadems weave for their Paramours The Satyres in those shades are heard to languish And make the Shepheards partners of their anguish The Shepheards who in Barkes of tender Trees Do grave their Loves Disdaines and Jealousies Which Phillis when there by Her Flocks she feedeth With Pitty now anon with laughter readeth Neare to this place when Sun in midst of Day In highest top of Heaven his Coach did stay And as advising on his Career glanced As all along that morne he had advanced His panting Steeds along those Fields of light Most princely looking from that glorious height When most the Grashoppers are heard in Meadows And loftiest Pines or small or have no shadows It was my hap O wofull hap to bide Where thickest shades me from all Raies did hide In a faire Arbor 't was some Sylvans Chamber Whose Seeling spred was with the Locks of Amber Of new bloom'd Sicamors Floore wrought with Flow'rs More sweet and rich than those in Princes Bow'rs Here Adon blush't and Clitia all amazed Lookt pale with Him who in the Fountaine gazed The Amaranthus smyl'd and that sweet Boy Which sometime was the God of Delos joy The brave Carnation speckled Pinke here shined The Uiolet her fainting Head declined Beneath a sleepy Chasbow all of Gold The Marigold her leaves did here unfold Now while that ravish'd with delight
and wonder Halfe in a trance I lay those Arches under The season silence place began t' entise Eyes drowsie lids to bring Night on their Skies Which softly having stollen themselves together Like evening Clouds me plac'd I wot not whether As Cowards leave the Fort which they should keep My senses one by one gave place to Sleep Who followed with a troupe of golden Slumbers Thrust from my quiet Braine all base encumbers And thrice me touching with his Rod of Gold A Heaven of Visions in my Temples roll'd To countervaile those Pleasures were bereft me Thus in his silent Prison clos'd he left me Me thought through all the neighbour Woods a noise Of Quiristers more sweet than Lute or voice For those harmonious sounds to Jove are given By the swift touches of the nine-string'd Heaven Such aires and nothing else did wound mine Eare No Soule but would become all Eare to heare And whilst I listning lay O lovely wonder I saw a pleasant Mirtle cleave asunder A Mirtle great with birth from whose rent wombe Three naked Nymphs more white than Snow forth come For Nymphs they seem'd about their heavenly faces In Waves of Gold floted their curling Tresses About their armes their Armes more white than milke They blushing Armlets wore of crimson Silke The Goddesses were such that by Scamander Appeared to the Phrygian Alexander Aglaia and her Sisters such perchance Be when about some sacred Spring they dance But scarce the Grove their naked Beauties graced And on the Verdure had each other traced When to the Floud they ran the Floud in Robes Of curling Christall their brests Ivory Globes Did all about incircle yet took pleasure To show white Snows throughout her liquid Azure Look how Prometheus Man when heavenly fire First gave him Breath Daies Brandon did admire And wondred at this Worlds Amphitheater So gaz'd I on those new guests of the Water All three were faire yet one excell'd as far The rest as Phoebus doth the Cyprian Star Or Diamonds small Gems or Gems do other Or Pearls that shining shell is call'd their Mother Her Haire more bright than are the Mornings Beames Hung in a golden shower above the Streames And dangling sought her fore-head for to cover Which seen did straight a Skie of Milke discover With two faire Brows Loves Bows which never bend But that a golden Arrow forth they send Beneath the which two burning Planets glancing Flasht flames of Love for Love there still is dancing Her either Cheeke resembled blushing Morne Or Roses Gueles in field of Lillies borne 'Twixt which an Ivory Wall so faire is raisâ—d That it is but abased when it 's praised Her Lips like Rows of Corrall soft did swell And th' one like th' other only doth excell The Tyrian Fish looks pale pale look the Roses The Rubies pale when mouth sweet Cherry closes Her Chin like silver Phoebe did appeare Darke in the midst to make the rest more cleare Her Neck seem'd fram'd by curious Phidias Master Most smooth most white a peece of Alabaster Two foaming Billows flow'd upon her brest Which did their tops with Corrall red encrest There all about as Brooks them sport at leisure With Circling Branches veines did swell in azure Within those crookes are only found those Isles Which Fortunate the dreaming old World stiles The rest the Streames did hide but as a Lilly Sunke in a Christals faire transparent Belly I who yet humane weaknesse did not know For yet I had not felt that Archers Bow Nor could I thinke that from the coldest Water The wâ—nged Yongling burning Flames could scatter On every part my vagabonding sight Did cast and drowne mine Eyes in sweet Delight O wondrous thing said I that Beauty is named Now I perceive I heretofore have dreamed And never found in all my flying Daies Joy unto this which only merits praise My pleasures have been paines my comforts crosses My treasure poverty my gaines but losses O precious sight which none doth else descry Except the burning Sun and quivering I. And yet O deare-bought Sight O would for ever I might enjoy you or had joy'd you never O happy Floud if so ye might abide Yet ever glory of this Moments Pride Adjure your Rillets all for to behold Her And in their Christall Armes to come and fold Her And sith ye may not long this Blesse embrace Draw thousand Pourtraits of Her on your Face Pourtraits which in my Heart be more apparent If like to yours my Brest but were transparent O that I were while She doth in you play A Daulphine to transport Her to the Sea To none of all those Gods I would Her render From Thule to Inde though I should with Her wander Oh! what is this the more I fixe mine Eye Mine Eye the more new Wonders doth espie The more I spie the more in uncouth fashion My Soule is ravish'd in a pleasant passion But looke not Eyes as more I would have said A sound of ratling Wheeles me all dismaid And with the sound forth from the trembling Bushes With storme-like course a sumptuous Chariot rushes A Chariot all of Gold the Wheeles were Gold The Nailes and Axel Gold on which it roll'd The upmost part a Scarlet Vaile did cover More rich than Danaes Lap spred with her Lover In midst of it in a triumphing Chaire A Lady sate miraculously faire Whose pensive Countenance and looks of Honour Do more allure the mind that thinketh on Her Than the most wanton Face and amorous Eyes That Amathus or flowry Paphos sees A Crue of Virgins made a Ring about Her The Diamond she they seem the Gold without Her Such Thetis is when to the Billows rore With Mermaids nice she danceth on the Shore So in a sable Night the Suns bright Sister Among the lesser twinckling Lights doth glister Faire Yoakes of Ermelines whose Colour passe The whitest Snows on aged Grampius Face More swift than Venus Birds this Chariot guided To the astonish'd Banke where as it bided But long it did not bide when poore those Streames Aye me it made transporting those rich Gemmes And by that Burthen lighter swiftly drived Till as me thought it at a Tow'r arrived Upon a Rock of Christall shining cleare With Diamonds wrought this Castell did appeare Who rising spires of Gold so high them reared That Atlas like it seem'd the Heaven they beared Amidst which Hights on Arches did arise Arches which guilt Flames brandish to the Skies Of sparking Topaces Proud Gorgeous Ample Like to a little Heaven a sacred Temple The Walls no Windows have nay all the Wall Is but one Window Night there doth not fall More when the Sun to Westerne Worlds declineth Than in our Zenith when at Noone He shineth Two flaming Hills the passage strait defend Which to this radiant Building doth ascend Upon whose Arching tops on a Pilastre A Port stands open rais'd in Loves Disastre For none that narrow Bridge and gate can passe Who have their Faces seen in Venus Glasse If
shining Lights which wrought my woe When first I did their azure Raies behold Nor voice whose sounds more strange effects do show Than of the Thracian Harper have been told Look to this dying Lilly fading Rose Darke Hyacinthe of late whose blushing Beames Made all the neighbouring herbs and grasse rejoyce And thinke how little is 'twixt Lifes extreames The cruell Tyrant that did kill those Flow'rs Shall once aye me not spare that Spring of yours SON IN Minds pure Glasse when I my selfe behold And lively see how my best daies are spent What clouds of care above my head are rold What comming ill which I cannot prevent My course begun I wearied do repent And would embrace what Reason oft hath told But scarce thus thinke I when Love hath controld All the best reasons Reason could invent Though sure I know my labours end is griefe The more I strive that I the more shall pine That only death shall be my last reliefe Yet when I thinke upon that face divine Like one with Arrow shot in laughters place Maugre my Heart I joy in my disgrace SON DEare Quirister who from those shadows sends Ere that the blushing Morne dare shew her Light Such sad lamenting straines that Night attends Become all Eare Stars stay to heare thy plight If one whose griefe even reach of thought transcends Who ne're not in a Dreame did taste Delight May thee importune who like case pretends And seems to joy in woe in Woes despight Tell me so may thou Fortune milder try And long long sing for what thou thus complaines Since Winter 's gone and Sun in dapled skie Enamour'd smiles on Woods and flowry Plaines The Bird as if my questions did her move With trembling wings sigh'd forth I love I love SON O Cruell Beauty sweetnesse inhumane That night and day contends with my desire And seeks my hope to kill not quench my fire By Death not Baulme to ease my pleasant paine Though ye my thoughts tread down which would aspire And bound my blisse do not alas disdaine That I your matchlesse worth and grace admire And for their cause these torments sharpe sustaine Let great Empedocles vaunt of his death Found in the midst of those Sicilian flames And Phaëton that Heaven him rest of breath And Daedals Son who nam'd the Samian streames Their haps I not envy my praise shall be That the most faire that lives mov'd me to â—ye SON THe Hyperborean Hills Ceraunus Snow Or Arimaspus cruell first thee bred The Caspian Tigers with their milke thee fed And Faunes did humane bloud on thee bestow Fierce Orithyas lover in thy bed Thee lull'd asleep where he enrag'd doth blow Thou didst not drinke the Flouds which here do flow But teares or those by ycie Tanais Head Sith thou disdaines my love neglects my griefe Laughs at my groanes and still affects my death Of thee nor Heaven I 'll seek no more reliefe Nor longer entertaine this loathsome breath But yeeld unto my Stars that thou maiest prove What losse thou hadst in losing such a Love SONG PHOEBUS arise And paint the sable Skies With azure white and red Rowse Memmons Mother from her Tythons bed That she thy Careere may with Roses spread The Nightingales thy comming each where sing Make an eternall spring Give life to this darke World which lâ—eth dead Spread forth thy golden haire In larger locks than thou wast wont before And Emperour-like decore With Diadem of Pearle thy Temples faire Chase hence the ugly Night Which serves but to make deare thy glorious Light This is that happy Morne That day long-wished day Of all my life so darke If cruell Stars have not my ruine sworne And Fates my hopes betray Which purely white deserves An everlasting Diamond should it marke This is the Morne should bring unto this Grove My Love to heare and recompence my love Faire King who all preserves But show thy blushing Beams And thou two sweeter Eyes Shall see then those which by Peneus Streames Did once thy heart surprise Nay Suns which shine as cleare As thou when two thou did'st to Rome appeare Now Flora decke thy selfe in fairest guise If that ye Winds would heare A voice surpassing far Amphions lyre Your furious chiding stay Let Zephire only breathe And with her Tresses play Kissing sometimes those purple ports of Death The Winds all silent are And Phoebus in his chaire Ensaffraning Sea and Aire Makes vanish every Star Night like a drunkard reeles Beyond the Hills to shun his flaming Wheeles The Fields with flow'rs are deckt in every hue The Clouds with Orient Gold spangle their blew Here is the pleasant place And nothing wanting is save She alas SON WHo hath not seen into her saffran Bed The Mornings Goddess mildly her repose Or her of whose pure bloud first sprang the Rose Lull'd in a slumber by a Mirtle shade Who hath not seen that sleeping white and red Makes Phoebe look so pale which she did close In that Jonian Hill to ease her woes Which only lives by her deare kisses fed Come but and see my Lady sweetly sleep The sighing Rubies of those heavenly lips The Cupids which brests golden Apples keep Those Eyes which shine in midst of their Ecclipse And he them all shall see perhaps and prove She waking but perswades now forceth Love SON SEe Cithereas Birds that milk-white paire On yonder leavie Mirtle Tree which grone And waken with their kisses in the Aire Th' enamour'd Zephires murmuring one by one If thou but sense hadst like Pigmalions Stone Or hadst not seen Medusas snaky haire Loves lessons thou mightst learn and learn sweet faire To Summers heat ere that thy Spring be growne And if those kissing lovers seeme but Cold Look how that Elme this Ivy doth embrace And binds and claspes with many a wanton fold And courting Sleep o'reshadows all the place Nay seems to say deare Tree we shall not part In sign whereof loe in each leafe a Heart SON THe Sun is faire when he with crimson Crown And flaming Rubies leaves his Easterne bed Faire is Thaumantias in her Christall gown When clouds engemm'd shew azure green and red To Westerne Worlds when wearied Day goes down And from heavens windows each Star shows her head Earths silent daughter Night is faire though brown Faire is the Moon though in Loves livery cled The Spring is faire when it doth paint Aprill Faire are the Meads the Woods the Floods are faire Faire looketh Ceres with her yellow haire And Apples-Queene when Rose-cheekt she doth smile That Heaven and Earth and Seas are faire is true Yet true that all not please so much as you MADRIGALL LIke the Idalian Queene Her haire about her Eyne And necke on brests ripe Apples to be seen At first glance of the Morne In Cyprus Gardens gathering those farie flowers Which of her blood were borne I saw but fainting saw my Paramours The Graces naked danc'd about the place The Winds and Trees amaz'd With silence on her gaz'd
The flowers did smile like those upon her face And as their Aspin stalkes those fingers bind That she might read my case I wish'd to be a Hyacinth in her hand SON THen is she gone O foole and coward I O good occasion lost ne're to be found What fatall chaines have my dull senses bound When best they might that did not Fortune try Here is the fainting Grasse where she did lie With Roses here she stellified the Ground She fix'd her eyes on this yet smiling Pond Nor time nor place seem'd ought for to deny Too long too long Respect I do embrace Your Counsell full of threats and sharpe disdaine Disdaine in her sweet Heart can have no place And though come there must straight retire againe Henceforth Respect farewell I 've heard it told Who lives in love can never be too bold SON WHat cruell Star into this World me brought What gloomy day did dawn to give me light What unkind hand to nurse me Orphane sought And would not leave me in eternall night What thing so deare as I hath essence bought The Elements dry humid heavy light The smallest living things which Nature wrought Be freed of woe if they have small delight Ah only I abandon'd to Despaire Nail'd to my torments in pale Horrours shade Like wandring Clouds see all my comforts fled And Ill on Ill with Houres my life impaire The Heavens and Fortune which were wont to turn Stay in one Mansion fixt to cause me mourn SON DEare Eye which daign'st on this sad Monument The sable Scroule of my mishaps to view Though it with mourning Muses teares be spent And darkely drawn which is not fain'd but true If thou not dazell'd with a Heavenly Hue And comely Feature didst not yet lament But happy lives unto thy selfe content O let not Love thee to his Laws subdue Look on the wofull ship-wrack of my Youth And let my ruines thee for Beacon serve To shun this Rock Capharean of untruth And serve no God which doth his Church-men sterve His Kingdom 's but of plaints his guerdon teares What he gives more is Jealousies and Feares MAD. TO the delightfull Greene Of you faire radiant Eine Let each black yeeld beneath the starry Arch. Eyes burnisht Heavens of Love Sinople Lamps of Jove Save all those hearts which with your flames you parch Two burning Suns you prove All other Eyes compar'd with you deare lights Are Hells or if not Hells yet dumpish Nights The Heavens if we their Glasse The Sea beleeve are green not perfect blew They all make faire what ever faire yet was And they are faire because they look like you SON NYmphs Sister Nymphs which haunt this christall Brook And happy in these floting Bowers abide Where trembling Roofes of Trees from Sun you hide Which make Idaean woods in every Crook Whether ye garlands for your locks provide Or pearly letters seek in sandy Book Or count your Loves when Thetis was a Bride Lift up your golden heads and on me look Read in mine Eyes my agonizing Cares And what ye read recount to her againe Faire Nymphs say all these streames are but my Teares And if she aske you how they sweet remaine Tell that the bitt'rest teares which Eyes can poure When shed for her can be no longer sowre SON SHe whose faire flowers no Autumne makes decay Whose Hue Coelestiall earthly hues doth staine Into a pleasant odoriferous Plaine Did walke alone to brave the pride of May. And whilst through flowry Lists she made her way That proudly smil'd her sight to entertaine Loe unawares where Love did hid remaine She spied and sought to make of him her prey For which of golden locks a fairest haire To bind the Boy she took but he affraid At her approach sprang swiftly in the Aire And mounting far from reach lookt back and said Why shouldst thou sweet me seek in chaines to bind Sith in thy eyes I dayly am confind MAD. SWeet Rose whence is this hue Which doth all hues excell Whence this most fragrant smell And whence this forme and gracing grace in you In faire Paestanas fields perhaps you grew Or Hyblas Hills you bred Or odoriferous Ennas Plaines you fed Or Tmolus or where Bore yong Adon slew Or hath the Queen of Love you died of new In that deare Bloud which makes you look so red No none of those but Cause more high you blist My Ladies Brest you bore her Lips you Kist. MADRIGALL ON this cold World of ours Flow'r of the Seasons Season of the Flow'rs Sun of the Sun sweet Spring Such hot and burning daies why dost thou bring Is it because those high Eternall Pow'rs Flash down that Fire this World environing Or that now Phoebus keeps his Sisters spheare Or doth some Phaëton Enflame the Sea and Aire Or rather is 't not usher of the Yeare Or that last day among the Flow'rs alone Unmask'd thou saw'st my Faire And whilst thou on her gaz'd she did thee burne And to thy Brother Summer doth thee turne SON DEare Wood and you sweet solitary Place Where I estranged from the vulgar live Contented more with what your shades me give Than if I had what Thetis doth embrace What snaky Eye grown jealous of my pace Now from your silent Horrours would me drive When Sun advancing in his glorious race Beyond the Twins doth neare our Pole arrive What sweet delight a quiet life affords And what it is to be from bondage free Far from the madding Worldlings hoarse discords Sweet flowry place I first did learne of thee Ah if I were mine owne your deare resorts I would not change with Princes stateliest Courts SON AH who can see those fruits of Paradise Coelestiall Cherries which so sweetly swell That Sweetnesse selfe confind there seemes to dwell And all those sweetest Parts about despise Ah who can see and feele no Flame surprise His hardened heart For me alas too well I know their Force and how they do excell Now through desire I burne and now I freeze I dye deare Life unlesse to me be given As many kisses as the Spring hath Flow'rs Or there be silver drops in Iris Show'rs Or stars there be in all-embracing 〈◊〉 And if displeas'd ye of the 〈◊〉 complaine Ye shall have leave to take them back againe SON IS 't not enough ay me me thus to see Like some Heaven-banish'd Ghost still wailing go A Shadow which your Raies do only show To vexe me more unlesse ye bid me die What could ye worse allot unto your Foe But die will I so ye will not deny That grace to me which mortall Foes even try To chuse what sort of Death shall end my woe Once did I find that whiles you did me kisse Ye gave my panting soule so sweet a touch That halfe I sownd in midst of all my Blâ—sse I do but crave my Deaths-wound may be such For though by Griefe I die not and annoy Is 't not enough to die through too much joy MAD. VNhappy
end To kisse the Earth at last he did pretend And bowing down besought with humble grace An aged Woman neare to give some place She turn'd and turning up her Hole beneath Said Sir kisse here for it is all but Earth Proteus of Marble THis is no work of Stone Though it seems breathlesse cold and sense hath nonâ— But that 〈◊〉 God which keeps The monstroâ—â— people of the raging Deeps Now that he doth not change his shape this while It is thus constant more you to beguile Pamphilus SOme Ladies wed some love and some adore them I like their wanton sport then care not for them Apelles enamour'd of Campaspe Alexanders Mistris POore Painter while I sought To counterfeit by Art The fairest Frame which Nature ever wrought And having limm'd each Part Except her matchlesse Eyes Scarce on those Suns I gaz'd As Lightning falls from Skies When straight my Hand grew weake my Mind amazd And ere that Pencill halfe them had exprest Love had them drawn no grav'd them in my Brest Campaspe ON Stars shall I exclaime Which thus my Fortune change Or shall I else revenge Upon my selfe this shame Inconstant Monarch or shall I thee blame Who lets Apelles prove The sweet Delights of Alexanders Love No Stars my selfe and thee I all forgive And Joyes that thus I live Of thee blind King my Beauty was despis'd Thou didst not know it now being known 't is priz'd Cornucopia IF for one only Horne Which Nature to him gave So famous is the noble Unicorne What praise should that Man have Whose Head a Lady brave Doth with a goodly paire at once adorne Love suffers no Parasol THose Eyes deare Eyes be Spheares Where two bright Suns are roll'd That faire Hand to behold Of whitest Snow appeares Then while ye coyly stand To hide from me those Eyes Sweet I would you advise To chuse some other fanne than that white Hand For if ye do for truth most true this know Those Suns ere long must needs consume warme Snow Unpleasant Musick IN fields Ribaldo stray'd Mayes Tapestry to see And hearing on a Tree A Cuckow sing sigh'd to himselfe and said Loe how alas even Birds sit mocking me Sleeping Beauty O Sight too dearely bought Shee sleeps and though those Eyes Which lighten Cupids Skies Be clos'd yet such a grace Environeth that Place That I through Wonder to grow faint am brought Suns if ecclips'd you have such power divine What power have I t' endure you when you shine Alcons Kisse WHat others at their Eare Two Pearles Camilla at her Nose did weare Which Alcon who nought saw For Love is blind robb'd with a pretty Kisse But having known his misse And felt what Ore he from that Mine did draw When she to come again did him desire He fled and said foule Water quenched Fire The Statue of Venus sleeping PAssenger vexe not thy Mind To make me mine Eyes unfold For if thou shouldst them behold Thine perhaps they will make blind Laura to Petrarch I Rather love a Youth and childish Rime Than thee whose Verse and Head are wise through Time The Rose FLow'r which of Adons Bloud Sprang when of that cleare Floud Which Venus wept another white was borne The sweet Cynarean Youth thou lively shows But this sharpe-pointed Thorne So proud about thy Crimsin Folds that grows What doth it represent Boares Teeth perhaps his milk-white Flanke which rent O show in one of unesteemed Worth That both the kill'd and killer setteth forth A Lovers Prayer NEare to a Christall Spring With Thirst and Heat opprest Narcissa faire doth rest Trees pleasant Trees which those green plains forth bring Now interlace your trembling Tops above And make a Canopy unto my Love So in Heavens highest House when Sun appeares Aurora may you cherish with her Teares Iolas Epitaph HEre deare Iolas lies Who whilst he liv'd in Beauty did surpasse That Boy whose heavenly Eyes Brought Cypris from above Or him to death who look'd in watry Glasse Even Judge the God of Love And if the Nymph once held of him so deare Dorine the faire would here but shed one Teare Thou shouldst in Natures scorne A Purple Flow'r see of this Marble borne The Trojan Horse A Horse I am who bit Reine rod Spur do not feare When I my Riders beare Within my Wombe not on my Back they sit No streames I drinke nor care for Grasse or Corne Art me a Monster wrought All Natures workes to scorne A Mother I was without Mother borne In end all arm'd my Father I forth brought What thousand Ships and Champions of renowne Could not do free captiv'd I raz'd Troy's Town For Dorus. WHy Nais stand ye nice Like to a well wrought Stone When Dorus would you kisse Denie him not that blisse He 's but a Child old Men be Children twice And even a Toothlesse one And when his Lips yours touch in that delight Ye need not feare he will those Cherries bite Love vagabonding SWeet Nymphs if as ye stray Ye find the froth-borne Goddesse of the Sea All blubb'red pale undone Who seeks her giddy Son That little God of Love Whose golden shafts your chastests Bosomes prove Who leaving all the Heavens hath run away If ought to him that finds him she 'll impart Tell her he nightly lodgeth in my Heart To a River SIth She will not that I She to the World my Joy Thou who oft mine annoy Hast heard deare Floud tell Thetis if thou can That not a happier Man Doth breathe beneath the Skie More sweet more white more faire Lips Hands and Amber Haire Tell none did ever touch A smaller daintier Waste Tell never was embrac't But peace since she forbids thee tell too much Lida SVch Lida is that who her sees Through Envy or through Love straight dies Phraene A Onian Sisters help my Phraenes Praise to tell Phraene heart of my heart with whom the Graces dwell For I surcharged am so sore that I not know What first to praise of 〈…〉 Brest or Neck of Snow Her Cheeks with Roses spred or her two Sun-like Eyes Her teeth of brightest pearl her lips where Sweetnes lies But those so praise themselves being to all Eyes set forth That Muses ye need not to say ought of their Worth Then her white swelling Paps essay for to make known But her white swelling paps through smallest vail are shown Yet She hath something else more worthy than the rest Not seen go sing of that which lies beneath her brest And mounts like fair Parnasse where Pegasse well doth run Here Phraene stay'd my Muse ere she had well begun Kisses desired THough I with strange Desire To kisse those rosie Lips am set on fire Yet will I cease to crave Sweet kisses in such store As he who long before In thousands them from Lesbia did receive Sweet heart but once me kisse And I by that sweet blisse Even sweare to cease you to importune more Poore one no number is Another Word of me ye shall not
wildest Pow'rs doth tame His Providence extending every-where His Justice which proud Rebels doth not spare In every Page no Period of the same But silly we like foolish Children rest Well pleas'd with colour'd Velum Leaves of Gold Faire dangling Ribbands leaving what is best On the great Writers sense ne're taking hold Or if by chance we stay our Minds on ought It is some Picture on the Margine wrought THe Griefe was common common were the cries Teares Sobs and Groanes of that afflicted Traine Which of Gods chosen did the Sum containe And Earth rebounded with them pierc'd were Skies All good had left the World each Vice did raign In the most monstrous sorts Hell could devise And all Degrees and each Estate did staine Nor further had to go whom to surprize The World beneath the Prince of Darknesse lay And in each Temple had himselfe install'd Was sacrific'd unto by Prayers call'd Responses gave which fooles they did obey When pittying Man God of a Virgines wombe Was borne and those false Deities strooke dumbe RUn Shepheards run where Bethlem blest appears We bring the best of News be not dismay'd A Saviour there is borne more old than yeares Amidst the rolling Heaven this Earth who stay'd In a poore Cottage Inn'd a Virgin Maid A weakling did him beare who all upbeares There he in Cloaths is wrapt in Manger laid To whom too narrow Swadlings are our Spheares Run Shepheards run and solemnize his Birth This is that Night no Day grown great with Blisse In which the Power of Satan broken is In Heaven be Glory Peace unto the Earth Thus singing through the Aire the Angels swame And all the Stars re-ecchoed the same O Than the fairest day thrice fairer night Night to best Daies in which a Sun doth rise Of which the golden Eye which cleares the Skies Is but a sparkling Ray a Shadow light And blessed ye in silly Pastors sight Mild Creatures in whose warme Crib now lies That Heaven-sent Youngling holy-Maid-born Wight ' Midst end beginning of our Prophesies Blest Cottage that hath Flow'rs in Winter spread Though withered blessed Grasse that hath the grace To deck and be a Carpet to that Place Thus singing to the sounds of oaten Reed Before the Babe the Shepheards bow'd their knees And Springs ran Nectar Honey dropt from Trees TO spread the azure Canopy of Heaven And make it twinkle with those spangs of Gold To stay the pondrous Globe of Earth so even That it should all and nought should it uphold To give strange motions to the Planets seven Or Jove to make so meek or Mars so bold To temper what is moist dry hot and cold Of all their Jars that sweet accords are given Lord to thy Wisdom's nought nought to thy Might But that thou shouldst thy Glory laid aside Come meanely in mortality to ' bide And die for those deserv'd eternall plight A wonder is so far above our wit That Angels stand amaz'd to muse on it THe last and greatest Herauld of Heavens King Girt with rough Skins hies to the Desarts wild Among that savage brood the Woods forth bring Which he more harmelesse found than man and mild His food was Locusts and what there doth spring With Honey that from Virgine Hives distill'd Parcht Body hollow Eyes some uncouth thing Made him appeare long since from Earth exil'd There burst he forth all ye whose Hopes rely On God with me amidst these Desarts mourne Repent repent and from old errours turne Who list'ned to his voice obey'd his cry Only the Ecchoes which he made relent Rung from their flinty Caves repent repent THese Eyes deare Lord once Tapers of Desire Fraile Scouts betraying what they had to keep Which their own heart then others set on fire Their trait'rous black before thee here out-weep These Locks of blushing deeds the gilt attire Waves curling wrackfull shelves to shadow deep Rings wedding Soules to Sins lethargick sleep To touch thy sacred Feet do now aspire In Seas of care behold a sinking Barke By winds of sharpe remorse unto thee driven O let me not be Ruines aym'd at marke My faults confest Lord say they are forgiven Thus sigh'd to Jesus the Bethanian faire His teare-wet Feet still drying with her Haire I changed Countries new delights to find But ah for pleasure I did find new paine Enchanting Pleasure so did Reason blind That Fathers love and words I scorn'd as vaine For Tables rich for bed for following traine Of carefull servants to observe my Mind These Heards I keep my fellows are assign'd My Bed's a Rock and Herbs my Life sustaine Now while I famine feele feare worser harmes Father and Lord I turne thy Love yet great My faults will pardon pitty mine estate This where an aged Oake had spread its Armes Thought the lost Child while as the Heards he led And pin'd with hunger on wild Acorns fed IF that the World doth in amaze remaine To heare in what a sad deploring mood The Pelican poures from her brest her Bloud To bring to life her younglings back againe How should we wonder at that soveraigne Good Who from that Serpents sting that had us slaine To save our lives shed his Lifes purple flood And turn'd to endlesse Joy our endlesse Paine Ungratefull Soule that charm'd with false Delight Hast long long wander'd in Sins flowry Path And didst not thinke at all or thoughtst not right On this thy Pelicans great Love and Death Here pause and let though Earth it scorn heaven seâ— Thee poure forth tears to him pour'd Bloud for thee IF in the East when you do there behold Forth from his Christall Bed the Sun to rise With rosie Robes and Crowne of flaming Gold If gazing on that Empresse of the Skies That takes so many formes and those faire Brands Which blaze in Heavens high Vault Nights watchful eyes If seeing how the Seas tumultuous Bands Of bellowing Billows have their course confin'd How unsustain'd the Earth still stedfast stands Poore mortall Wights you e're found in your Mind A thought that some great King did sit above Who had such Laws and Rites to them assign'd A King who fix'd the Poles made Spheares to move All Wisdome Purenesse Excellency Might All Goodnesse Greatnesse Justice Beauty Love With feare and wonder hither turne your Sight See see alas him now not in that State Thought could fore-cast Him into Reasons light Now Eyes with tears now Hearts with griefe make great Bemoane this cruell Death and ruthfull case If ever Plaints just Woe could aggravate From Sin and Hell to save us humane Race See this great King nail'd to an abject Tree An object of reproach and sad disgrace O unheard Pity Love in strange degree He his own Life doth give his Bloud doth shed For Wormelings base such Worthinesse to see Poore Wights behold his Visage pale as Lead His Head bow'd to His Brest Locks sadly rent Like a cropt Rose that languishing doth fade Weake Nature weepe astonish'd World lament Lament you Winds
He sure may couâ—â— with all â—he waves that meet To wash the Mauritanian Atlas feet Though crown'd thou weâ—t not nor a King by Birth Thy Worth deserves the richest Crown on Earth Search this halfe-Spheare and the Antartick Ground Where is such Wit and Bounty to be found As into silent Night when neare the Beare The Virgine Huntâ—esse skiÌ„nes at full most cleare And strives to match her Brothers golden Light The Hoast of stars doth vanish in her sight Arcturus dies cool'd is the Lions ire Po burns no more with Phaëtontall Fire Orion faints to see his Armes grow black And that his flaming Sword he now doth lack So Europes Lights all bright in their Degree Lose all their Lustre parallel'd with Thee By just Discent Thou from more Kings dost shine Than many can name Men in all their Line What most they toyle to find and finding hold Thou scornest orient Gems and flatt'ring Gold Esteeming Treasure surer in Mens Brests Than when immur'd with Marble clos'd in Chests No stormy Passions do disturbe thy Mind No mists of Greatnesse ever could thee blind Who yet hath been so meeke Thou life didst give To them who did repine to see Thee live What Prince by Goodnesse hath such Kingdoms gain'd Who hath so long his Peoples Peace maintain'd Their Swords are turn'd to Sythes to Culters Speares Some Giant Post their antick Armour beares Now where the wounded Knight his Life did bleed The wanton Swaine sits piping on a Reed And where the Canon did Joves Thunder scorne The gawdy Hunts-man winds his shrill-tun'd Horne Her green Locks Ceres doth to yellow die The Pilgrim safely in the shade doth lye Both Pan and Pales carelesse keep their Flocks Seas have no Dangers save the Winds and Rocks Thou art this Isles Palladium neither can Whiles thou dost live it be o're-thrown by Man Let others boast of Bloud and Spoyles of Foes Fierce Rapines Murders Iliads of Woes Of hated Pompe and Trophees reared faire Gore-spangled Ensignes streaming in the Aire Count how they make the Scythian them adore The Gaditan and Souldiour of Aurore Unhappy Boasting to enlarge their Bounds That charge themselves with cares their friends with Wounds Who have no Law to their ambitious Will But Man-plagues borne are humane Bloud to spill Thou a true Victor art sent from above What others straine by Force to gaine by Love World-wandring Fame this Praise to thee imparts To be the only Monarch of all Hearts They many feare who are of many fear'd And Kingdoms got by Wrongs by Wrongs are tear'd Such Thrones as Bloud doth raise Bloud throweth down No Guard so sure as Love unto a Crown Eye of our westerne World Mars-daunting King With whose Renowne the Earths seven Climates ring Thy Deeds not only claime these Diadems To which Thame Litty Taye subject their Streames But to thy Vertues rare and Gifts is due All that the Planet of the Yeare doth view Sure if the world above did want a Prince The world above to it would take Thee hence That Murder Rapine Lust are fled to Hell And in their Rooms with us the Graces dwell That Honour more than Riches Men respect That Worthinesse than Gold doth more effect That Piety unmasked shows her Face That Innocency keeps with Power her Place That long-exil'd Astrea leaves the Heaven And turneth right her Sword her Weights holds even That the Saturnian world is come againe Are wish'd effects of Thy most happy Raigne That dayly Peace Love Truth Delights encrease And Discord Hate Fraud with Incumbers cease That Men use strength not to shed others Bloud But use their strength now to do others Good That Fury is enchain'd disarmed VVrath That save by Natures Hand there is no Death That late grim Foes like Brothers other love That Vultures prey not on the harmelesse Dove That VVolves with Lambs do friendship entertaine Are wish'd effects of thy most happy Raigne That Towns encrease That ruin'd Temples rise That their wind-moving Vanes do kisse the Skies That Ignorance and Sloath hence run away That buri'd Arts now rowse them to the Day That Hyperion far beyond his Bed Doth see our Lions rampe our Roses spred That Iber courts us Tyber not us charmes That Rhein with hence-brought Beames his bosome warmes That Ill doth feare and Good doth us maintaine Are wish'd Effects of thy most happy Raigne O Vertues Patterne Glory of our Times Sent of past Daies to expiate the Crimes Great King but better far than thou art great VVhom State not honours but who honours State By VVonder borne by VVonder first install'd By VVonder after to new Kingdoms call'd Young kept by VVonder from home-bred Alarmes Old sav'd by Wonder from pale Traitours Harmes To be for this Thy Raigne which VVonders brings A King of VVonder VVonder unto Kings If Pict Dane Normane Thy smooth Yoke had seen Pict Dane and Norman had thy Subjects been If Brutus knew the Blisse Thy Rule doth give Even Brutus joy would under Thee to live For Thou Thy People dost so dearely love That they a Father more than Prince Thee prove O Daies to be desir'd Age happy thrice If you your Heaven-sent-Good could duly prize But we halfe-palsie-sick thinke never right Of what we hold till it be from our sight Prize only Summers sweet and musked Breath VVhen armed VVinters threaten us with Death In pallid Sicknesse do esteeme of Health And by sad Poverty discerne of Wealth I see an Age when after some few yeares And Revolutions of the slow-pac'd Spheares These daies shall be 'bove other far esteem'd And like Augustus palmy Raigne be deem'd The Names of Arthur fabulous Paladines Grav'n in Times surly Brows in wrinckled Lines Of Henries Edwards famous for their Fights Their Neighbour Conquests Orders new of Knights Shall by this Princes Name be past as far As Meteors are by the Idalian Star If Gray-hair'd Proteüs Songs the Truth not misse There is a Land hence-distant many Miles Out-reaching Fiction and Atlantick Isles Which Homelings from this little World we name That shall imblazon with strange Rites his Fame Shall reare him Statues all of purest Gold Such as Men gave unto the Gods of old Name by him Temples Pallaces and Towns With some great River which their Fields renowns This is that King who should make right each wrong Of whom the Bards and mystick Sybills sung The Man long promis'd by whose glorious Raigne This Isle should yet her ancient Name regaine And more of Fortunate deserve the Stile Than those where Heavens with double SuÌ„mers smile Run on Great Prince Thy Course in Glories way The end the Life the Evening crowns the Day Heape worth on worth and strongly soare above Those heights which made the World Thee first to love Surmount thy selfe and make thine Actions past Be but as Gleames or Lightnings of thy last Let them exceed those of thy younger Time As far as Autumne doth the flowry Prime Through this thy Empire range like worlds bright Eye That once each
Their names doth soare on our fames overthrow Mark'd is our lightnesse whilst their wits are praised In silent thoughts who can no secret cover He may say we but not well be a Lover III. YE who with curious numbers sweetest art Frame Dedall Nets our beauty to surprize Telling strange Castles builded in the Skies And tales of Câ—pidsâ—ow â—ow and Cupids Dart Well howsoever ye act your fained smart Molesting quiet eares with tragick cries When you accuse our chastities best part Nam'd cruelty ye seem not halfe too wise Yea ye your selves it deem most worthy praise Beauties best guard that Dragon which doth keep Hesperian fruit the spur in you does raise That Delion wit that other waies may sleep To cruell Nymphs your Lines do fame afford Oft many pitifull not one poore word IV. IF it be love to wake out all the night And watchfull eyes drive out in dewie moanes And when the Sun brings to the world his light To waste the Day in teares and bitter groanes If it be love to dim weake reasons beame With clouds of strange desire and make the mind In hellish agonies a heav'n to dreame Still seeking Comforts where but griefes we find If it be love to staine with wanton thought A spotlesse chastity and make it try More furious flames than his whose cunning wrought That brazen Bull where he intomb'd did fry Then sure is Love the causer of such woes Be ye our Lovers or our mortall foes V. ANd would you then shake off Loves golden chain With which it is best freedome to be bound And Cruell do ye seek to heale the Wound Of Love which hath such sweet and pleasant paine All that is subject unto natures raigne In Skies above or on this lower round When it is long and far sought and hath found Doth in Dâ—cadeâ—s fall and slack remaine Behold the Moon how gay her face doth grow Till she kisse all the Sun then doth decay See how the Seas tumultuously do flow Till they embrace lov'd bankes then â—ost away So is 't with love unlesse you love me still O do not thinke I le yeeld unto your will CAres charming sleep son of the â—able night Brother to death in silent darknesse borne Destroy my languish e're the day be light With darke forgetting of my cares returne And let the day be long enough to mourne The ship-wrack of my ill adventured Youth Let watry eyes suffice to waile their scorne Without the troubles of the nights untruth Cease dreames fond image of my fond desirâ—â— To modell forth the passions of to morrow Let never rising Sun approve your teares To add more griefe to aggravate my sorrow Still let me sleep embracing clouds in vaine And never wake to feele the daies disdaine An Epitaph of one named Margaret IN shells and gold Pearles are not kept alone A Margaret here lies beneath a stone A Margaret that did excell in worth All those rich Gems the Indies both send forth Who had she liv'd when good was lov'd of men Had made the Graces foure the Muses ten And forc'd those happy times her daies that claim'd From her to be the age of Pearle still nam'd She was the richest Jewell of her kind Grac'd with more lustre than she left behind All Goodnesse vertue Bounty and could cheare The saddest minds now Nature knowing here How things but shown then hidden are lov'd best This Margaret ' shrin'd in this marble Chest. Another Epitaph on a Lady THis Beauty faire which death in dust did turne And clos'd so soon within a Coffin sad Did passe like Lightning like the thunder burne So little like so much true vertue had Heavens but to shew their might here made it shine And when admir'd then in the worlds disdaine O teares O griefe did call it back againe Lest earth should vaunt she kept what was divine On a Drunkard NOr Aramanthes nor Roses do 〈◊〉 Unto this Hearse but 〈◊〉 and Wine For that same thirst though dead yâ—â— doth him piâ—e Which made him so carrouse while he drew breath Aretinus Epitaph HEre Aretine lies most bitter gall Who whilst he lived spoke evill of all Only of God the Arranâ— Scot Naught said â—ut that he knew him not Comparison of his thoughts to Pearls WIth open shells in seas on heavenly dew A shining Oyster lusciously doth feed And then the birth of that aethereall seed Shews when conceiv'd if Skies looke dark or blew So do my thoughts Coelestiall twins of you At whose aspect they first begin and breed When they came forth to light demonstrate true If ye then smil'd or lowr'd in mourning weed Pearles then are orient fram'd and faire in forme If heavens in their conceptions do look cleare But if they thunder or do threat a storme They sadly darke and cloudy do appeare Right so my thoughts and so my notes do change Sweet if ye smile and hoarse if ye look strange All changeth THe angry Winds not aye Do cuff the roaring Deep And though heavens often weep Yet do they smile for joy when comes dismay Frosts do not ever kill the pleasant flow'rs And Love hath sweets when gone are all the soures This said a shepheard closing in his armes His deare who blusht to feele Loves new alarmes Sileâ—â—s to King Midas THe greatest gift that from their lofty thrones The all-governing pow'rs to man can give Is that he never breath or breathing once A suckling end his daies and leave to live For then he neither knows the woe nor joy Of life nor feares the Stygian Lakes annoy To his amorous thought SWeet wanton thought who art of beauty borne And who on beauty feedst and sweet desire Like Taper flee still circling and still turne About that flame that all so much admire That heavenly faire which doth out-blush the morne Those Ivory hands those threads of golden wire Thou still surroundest yet dar'st not aspire Sure thou dost well that place not to come neare Nor see the Majesty of that faire Court For if thou saw'st what wonders there resort The poore intelligence that moves that spheare Like soules ascending to those Joyes above Back never wouldst thou turne nor thence remove What can we hope for more what more injoy Since fairest things thus soonest have their end And as on bodies shadows do attend Soon all our blisse is followed with annoy Yet she 's not dead she lives where she did love Her memory on earth her soule above Verses on the late William Earle of Pembrook I. THe doubtfull feares of Change so fright my Mind Though raised to the highest joy in Love As in this slippery state more griefe I find Than they who never such a blisse did prove But fed with lingring hopes of â—uture Gaine Dreame not what 't is to doubt a Losers Paine II. Desire a safer Harbour is than Feare And not to rise lesse danger than to fall The want of Jewels we far better beare Than so possest at once to lose them all Unsatisfied
Hopes Time may repaire When ruin'd Faith must finish in despaire III. Alas Ye look but up the Hill on me Which shews to you a faire and smooth ascent The Precipice behind ye cannot see On which high Fortunes are too pronely bent If there I slip what former joy or blisse Can heale the bruise of such a fall as this A Reply I. WHo love enjoyes and placed hath his Mind Where fairer Vertues fairest beauties grace Than in himselfe such store of worth doth find That he deserves to hold so good a Place To chilling feares how can he be set forth Whose feares condemne his own doubts others worth II. Desire as flames of Zeale Feare Horrours meets They rise who fall oâ— falling never prov'd Who is so dainty satiate with sweeâ—s To murmur when the Banket is remov'd The fairest hopes Time in the Bud destroys When sweet are memories of ruin'd Joyes III. It is no Hill but Heaven where you remaine And whom Desert advanced hath so high To reach the Guerdon of his burning Paine Must not repine to fall and falling dye His Hopes are crown'd what years of tedious breath Can them compare with such a happy Death W. D. A Translation AH silly Soule what wilt thou â—ay When he whom earth and Heavens obey Comes Man to judge in the last Day II. When He a reason askes why Grace And Goodnesse thou wouldst not embrace But steps of Vanity didst trace III. That Day of Terrour Vengeance Ire Now to prevent thou should'st desire And to thy God in haste retire IV. With watry Eyes and Sigh-swollen Heart O beg beg in his Love a part Whilst Conscience with remorse doth smart V. That dreaded Day of wrath and shame In flames shall turne this Worlds huge Frame As sacred Prophets do proclaime VI. O! with what Griefe shall Earthlings grone When that great Judge set on his Throne Examines strictly every One. VII Shrill-sounding Trumpets through the Aire Shall from dark Sepulchres each where Force wretched Mortalls to appeare VIII Nature and Death amaz'd remaine To find their dead arise againe And Processe with their Judge maintaine IX Display'd then open Books shall lye Which all those secret crimes descry For which the guilty World must dye X. The Judge enthron'd whom Bribes not gaine The closest crimes appeare shall plaine And none unpunished remaine XI O who then pitty shall poore me Or who miâ—e Advocate shall be When scarce the justest passe shall free XII All wholly holy dreadfull King Who freely life to thine dost bring Of Mercy save me Mercies spring XIII Then sweet Jesu call to mind How of thy Paines I was the End And favour let me that day find XIV In search of me Thou full of paine Did'st sweat bloud Death on Crosse sustaine Let not these suff'rages be in vaine XV. Thou supreame Judge most just and wise Purge me from guilt which on me lies Before that day of thine Assize XVI Charg'd with remorse loe here I groane Sin makes my face a blush take on Ah! spare me prostrate at thy Throne XVII Who Mary Magdalen didst spare And lend'st the Thiefe on Crosse thine Eare Shewest me faire hopes I should not feare XVIII My prayers imperfect are and weake But worthy of thy grace them make And save me from Hells burning Lake XIX On that great Day at thy right hand Grant I amongst thy Sheep may stand Sequestred from the Goatish Band. XX. When that the Reprobates are all To everlasting flames made thrall O to thy Chosen Lord me call XXI That I one of thy Company With those whom thou dost justifie May live blest in Eternity Vpon John Earle of Laderdale his Death OF those rare Worthies who adorn'd our North And shin'd like Constellations Thou alone Remaindst last great Maitland charg'd with worth Second in Vertues Theater to none But finding all eccentrick in our times Religion into superstition turn'd Justice silenc'd exiled or inurn'd Truth Faith and Charity reputed Crimes The young man destinate by sword to fall And Trophees of their Countries spoiles to reare Strange Laws the Ag'd and prudent to appale And forc'd sad yoakes of Tyranny to beare And for nor great nor vertues minds a roome Disdaining life thou shouldst into thy Tombe II. WHen misdevotion every where shall take place And lofty Oratours in thundring termes Shall move you people to arise in armes And Churches hallow'd policy deface When you shall but one generall sepulchre As Averroes did one generall Soule On high on low on good on bad confer And your dull Predecessors rites controule Ah spare this Monument great Guests it keeps Three grave Justiciars whom true worth did raise The Muses Darlings whose losse Phoebus weeps Best mens delight the glory of their daies More we would say but feare and stand in aw To turne Idolaters and break your Law III. DO not repine blest soule that humble wits Do make thy worth the matter of their Verse No high strain'd Muse our times and sorrows fits And we do sigh not sing to crown thy Hearse Thy wisest Prince e're manag'd Brittaines State Did not disdaine in numbers cleere and brave The vertues of thy Sire to celebrate And fix a rich memoriall on his Grave Thou didst deserve no lesse and here in Jet Gold Touch Brasse Porphyrie or Parian Stone That by a Princes hand no lines are set For thee the cause is now this Land hath none Such Giant Moods our parity forth brings We all will nothing be or all be Kings EPITAPHS TO The Obsequies of the blessed Prince JAMES King of Great Brittaine LEt holy David Solomon the Wise That King whose Breast Aegeria did inflame Augustus Helens Son Great in all Eyes Do Homage low to thy Mausolean Frame And bow before thy Laurels Anadem Let all those sacred Swans which to the Skies By never-dying Layes have rais'd their Name From North to South where Sun doth set and rise Religion Orphan'd waileth o're thy Urne Justice weeps out her Eyes now truly blind To Niobes the remnant Vertues turne Fame but to blaze thy Glories staies behind I' th' World which late was golden by thy Breath Is Iron turn'd and horrid by thy Death On the Death of a young Lady THis Beauty which pale Death in Dust did turne And clos'd so soon within a Coffin sad Did passe like Lightning like to Thunder burne So little Life so much of Worth it had Heavens but to shew their Might here made it shine And when admir'd then in the Worlds disdaine O Teares O Griefe did call it back againe Lest Earth should vaunt she kept what was Divine What can we hope for more what more enjoy Sith fairest things thus soonest have their End And as on Bodies shadows do attend Sith all our Blisse is follow'd with Annoy She is not dead she lives where she did love Her Memory on Earth her souâ—e above FOnd Wight who dream'st of Greatness Glory State And Worlds of Pleasures Honours dost devise Awake Learne how that here thou