Eternitie For were 't as envious Fame reports her gone 'T were but a happy transmigration To Heav'n where stil she lives a Saint and we Do stil adore her living Deitie To a Painter limning a Curtezan LEave off fond Artist can't your wanton eie Glance on a pleasant face but presently You must go court her with your pencil and Thus spoil th' invention of a witty hand What need you paint her when the wicked Elfe Fearing no colours daily paints her self What mean those naked dresses silks and lawn When shee 's much fitter to be hang'd then drawn Wouldst thou expresse thy art and judgement say Wouldst thou be fam'd I 'l tel you thus you may Paint me to life a chast and virtuous Dame Whose spotless honour speaks her stil the same In whose smooth forehead let there be exprest What Virgin thoughts she harbours in her breast Set forth her severall Graces and her eie Make to betray a cheerful modestie Her sober looks and her aspect is free Let them both innocent and simple be Then in her cheeks express that blushing grace Which Vestal vows have printed in her face Then let thy Phansie through her purer skin Transparent make her chaster soul within When you have drawn this piece then Painter see You not expose it to each common eie That cannot judge to Lovers onely those And not to lustful eies this piece expose On the young and fair Mrs M. H. her hair being unfortunately burnt by chance in the candle as she was Combing her head at night UNluckie Traitour could thy greedy flame Feed on such fuel and not devoure the same How durst thy dul pale flames so high aspire And mix its lazie heat with Vestal fire Oh how I grieve this direful chance to see These fresh leaves falling from the blooming tree And that the spring which was but now begun Should thus o' th' sudden into Autumne run Ah cruel Atropos why so soon would you Thus rudely cut those threads of life in two Those neat dishevel'd locks whose every grace Scorning arts help set forth a neater face With what pale horrour do I wondring see This sight and fear what the event will be Methinks it now portends some overthrow Threatens some great mans ruine and doth show Like lightning 'fore the thunder bidding all Be arm'd against the stroak or now I call To mind fair Helen Troy did so admire Me thinks it represents that town on fire Had this but Lillie seen he would have said It was some blazing Comet and that head Which was thus crisped o'r with purest raies Was all a heav'nly Meteor that did blaze Her Virtues forth to the worlds open eie As Emblem of her rare divinitie Or had mistook thee in this borrow'd light For brightest Phoebe Mistresse of the night By those bright Star-like tapours of thine eies Oh may another lovely Phoenix rise From these sweet ashes whose sad fun'ral pile With fragrant odours thus perfumes our Isle But thou curst light that wroughtst this Tragedie In thy own flames maist thou a martyr die Writ on Clarastella's Busk MIght I o' nights in thy room lie 'Twixt Stella's warmer mounts of snow So neer her heart dissolving I No higher Paradise would know Such envi'd bliss would make me stray VVhither the Gods themselves would bow And leave heav'ns upper milkie way To breath in happier shades below Deploring Clarastella's Inconstancie FAir and yet cruel strange me thinks that art Should act amiss where Nature plai's her part Can you a gentle Saint a Tyrant prove Can your diviner soul forget to love Can Winter set in such a love-warm brest Which was with so much heat but now possest Are the flames dying and loves active fires Congeal'd to frosts and freez'd to cold desires And those fair Violet veins the verdant Spring Did so enliven now no heat can bring Can you that carried Summer in your lips Red as the Cherrie suffer an Eclipse That in the Apples of your cheeks did wear A fertile Autumn now no fruit can bear All heat extinguisht not one spark of fire Now left but to inkindle new desire Strange mixture this when I at once may view All the four seasons of the year in you Some health for pitty to my hopes restore Or love me not at all or love me more Under this Equinox my shadows are Quite round me whilst I live in black despair Frigid nor torrid zones can I endure They bred cold Agues these a Calenture Loves Haesitation To Clarastella WHy should I love that thing Can no affection bring Since reason doth from liking draw Reciproque friendship shall I thaw When her love freezeth tel me why When she disdaineth should not I Yet Loves Religion Bids me love though she frown By whose more sacred lawes Heav'n knowes We are enjoyn'd to love our foes Though she reject me then yet I Must love my Stella til I die Love I your pow'rs obey True love can ne'r decay And since that Virtue lives in you Which made me like and love you too At first I am oblieg'd and I Must love thee to Eternitie To Clarastella admiring her black Eies and Hair LEt others Court the Cyprian Queen Gilt tresses or the Amber skin Give me black eies and hair Presum'd the face be fair And a Seraphick soul within The Swan though black below above Is the white object of our love So is Juno's prouder bird For her black eies admir'd And 'cause they are so I yours approve Apelles limning a faire maid Let fall by chance his pen and said That though he meant it not Yet could not mend the blot It did expresse so rare a shade If shadowes best set forth a face Adorning it with beauties grace Then are you onely fair Whose form beyond compare Excels the birth of humane race In your bright eies decipher'd are The Ev'ning and same morning star Sole Glorie of the Night Deckt with such raies of light No day can boast so rich by far The Lovers Torch doth burn most bright Like Comets in the darkest night And the black Boy stil roves In sap and shadie groves And like you crowns Loves sweet delight To Clarastella complaining of my long kisses MAdam I vow I never knew One creature of your sex till you Find fault with what was long in men Oh do not geld my Phansie then Nor blame my pleasures extasie That when each sense is feasted I Thus tast each pure Ambrosiack kisse And by degrees melt down my blisse Oh those smooth soft and Rubie lips That fright the Sun to an Eclipse Whose Rosie and Virmilion hue Betray the blushing thoughts in you Whose fragrant Amoratick breath Wou'd revive dying Saints from death Whose Syren-like harmonious air Speaks musick and enchants the ear VVho would not hang and fixed there VVish he might know no other sphere Oh for a charm to make the Sun Drunk and forget his motion Oh that some palsie or lame gout Would cramp old times diseased foot Or that I
might or moult or clip His speedy wings whilst on her lip I quench my thirsty appetite With the life honey dwels on it Oh for a Crane-like neck that may This Nectar slowly thence convey Then on this holy Altar I Would sacrifice eternally Offring one long continued mine Of Golden pleasures to thy shrine I mean not Pompeys biting kiss Flora did so commend nor his Venerious sip Catullus us'd Where lip-salve was from each infus'd No a more holy chast impresse May th' image of each mind expresse As perfect as the wax the seal Such kisses do not wound but heal Kissing thou sacred kissing art Onely the intellective part Of pleasure by which union Our souls discourse and meet in one Fixt Center whilst in a ful kiss Each am'rous line concentred is Nor doth it violate Chastitie Or forfeit like Adulterie The dowry now as heretofore When but to speak or see was more Immodest deem'd at least as much A Woman as 't is now to touch Thus with chast lips we blow Loves fire To a live coal thus fan it higher Thus do we seal affections band VVhich onely death can cancel and VVhilst both our hearts and lips do meet Thus do our souls each other greet Thus we engender speaking Love Peculiar only to the Dove Whereas all other bodies heat Of Lust doth them incorporate But only in the act yet we Thus renew love t' eternitie With fresh unsated appetite And without shame or sad regret Which true experience doth prove The difference betwixt Lust an Love Then let us kiss like Turtles close Until we both seem one til those That see our hearts saluting thus Shal not disturb but envy us Coyness in women makes men more Suspect they 'l do behind the door If thus you think I kiss too much Know that my love to you is such That whensoe'r it pleaseth you I 'l closer kiss drink deeper too To Clarastella Why Lovers walk round 'T Is oft observ'd that those who are in love Do when they walk in spherick circle move A motion to its nature genuine So move the Heav'ns and Love that is divine And heav'n-deduced draws like that his gest A round because that figure is the best Love is a Labyrinth wherein wandring men Tread the same pensive measur's o'r agen The Soul her feet th' affection guides and moves To the same object that she truly Loves Thus when I walk so often round I move To thee the Center Nature bids me love A Pastoral Protest of Love by Damon to Stella WHen I thee all o'r do view I all o'r must love thee too By that smooth forehead wher 's exprest The candour of thy peaceful breast By those fair twin-like-stars that shine And by those apples of thine eyn By the Lambkins and the Kids Playing 'bout thy fair eie-lids By each peachie blossom'd cheek And thy Sattin skin more sleek And white then Flora's whitest Lillies Or the maiden Daffadillies By that Ivorie porch thy nose By those double blanched rows Of teeth as in pure Coral set By each azure rivolet Running in thy temples and Those flowrie meadows 'twixt them stand By each Pearl-tipt ear by Nature as On each a Jewel pendant was By those lips all dew'd with bliss Made happy in each others kiss By those pure Vermilion cherries Thy red nipples and those strawberries Swimming there as set in cream By those two curld locks that seem To wreath thy Lover in wav'd art That from thee he ne'r should part By those silk tresses soft as down Of tender Eunuches newly blown That vail your body round when e'r In your own shades you 'd less appear By that silver stately neck Doth thy gems more grace and deck Then they can it by those two Soft and wool-warme mounts of snow By each Alablaster hand And those slender joynts that stand So streight and closely set each palm Seems a young tree distilling balm Midst that pregnant Hemisphear By the fair knot that 's planted there By those moving columns bear This Globe and the lov'd frame uprear By those pretty nimble feet Wont in skilful measures meet By the neat fabrick of the whole Fair as the world from either Pole Whose each part is Paradise And Heav'n both in and round it is By thy self when thee I view I love thy all and each part too Occasional POEMS By Robert Heath Esquire Majores majora sonent mihi parva locute Sufficit in vestras saeperedire manus Mart. li 9. Ep. 1. LONDON Printed for HUMPHRY MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Shop at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. Occasional Poems To an old Gentlewoman that would have her Picture drawn WHat strange impossibles are those That one fam'd Myron you impose Drawn to the life you 'd be you say When you are dying every day In colours too when there 's but one All o'r your face and that is dun Hee l draw 't is like thy shadows true For thou art all but shadow'd blue If fair then thou wu'dst counted be His pigments let him lay on thee And with a trowel dawb and sleek The wroughcast of each wrinkled cheek Else but in vain he shal on you Spend both his oyl and labour too Drawn with black lead or with a coal Over some Alehouse chimney wal Thy picture best wil semble thee By some rough Dialler when he Shal underwrite in meeter this The widow of Sarepta is Or 't wil shew best through lattice-work Here an old woman there the Turk Yet if thou needs must have it done Let me say this in caution Unto thy Painter that he plie And speed his work or thou wilt die Before the third dayes sitting when If thou canst live so long that then Because thou lt ne'r be at th' expence To take thy il lookt figure thence He would but send the piece to me I 'd rather have it far then thee To hang up mongst my Sybels or Foul Hags lest some mistake thee for One of the Fatal Destinies Or Helbred Furies worse then these But I 'm afraid 't is his design To sel thee for some Tavern sign If he not hang thee out a loof o th' back o th' Change as weather proof And I shal see thee thy ruin'd face Hang out in Southwark old Queen Bess Epithalamium Amatorium To Aurora WHy peeps the envious Morne so soon upon The pleasures of our bed Pul back thy fierie coursers Phaeton And drive not til I bid And lest thy headstrong steeds their reins shu'd break That Virgin girdle take I now unti'd too soon for you it is And me our rosie nests to leave and rise Have I so many tedious Suns beheld And nights in sighing spent E'r to temptation I could make her yield And would you now prevent The long-wisht harvest of my joys delight Nor grant as long a night Go back to thy lov'd Thetis bosome go Whilst in our beds wee 'l sport it longer too I 'd
found So easie passage thence to sallie out And leave her so lov'd seat to range about Th' Elesian groves My souls best part adieu I 'l bathe thy wound in tears though wounded too Drie eies forbear this urn oh come not neer To read this Epitaph without a tear Spirit of Wit and Valour here doth lie Doubly entomb'd i' th' Readers heart and eie Upon the lingring death of the Virtuous Mrs L. H. DEath I not blame thy subtiltie In cutting off this Happy Shee Ne'r didst thou yet in thy black list enroul So fair a soul Thy Envie snatcht her hence lest wee By her example taught should be Immortaliz'd by virtue and live stil Against thy wil For hadst thou spar'd her yet awhile And not prevented by this wile Our grand design thou'adst lost thy sting and wee Not feared thee Coward thou didst by slow degrees Upon her Vital spirits ceaze Els had shee summon'd pow'r enough to stand Thy armed hand Subtile and envious Coward thus Thou 'ast spoiled Nature robbed us Yet I not blame thee thou'adst no other way To get thy prey Upon the Death of the truly valiant Sir Bevil Grenvil slain SEE where in Western clouds our Sun is set Whilst those thick groves of Pikes of him beset To guard his Valour trembled all and shoke With Aspen fear soon as this stately Oke Was cleft with fatal thunder every head Droops like pearl'd Violets now Grenvil's dead Wee need no Gods of Egypt to exhale Salt rivers from our eies and force us waile His sorrowed absence no sowre peele or Rue To damp our looks to Pharisaick hue From Grenvil's Herse each cheek is watered And scorns to wear a smile now he is dead Did I not view Heav'ns great unarmed bow I might suspect Deucalion would o'r-flow The drenched world again and in his name Erect a new eternal Ark of Fame What sudden inundation else could thus As in a second deluge bury us Alive and waft us by a quick return To shades what fire but that of his bright urne Could melt each Muse to liquified verse And thus dissolve in Elegiack tears What Ocean but his Virtues could have drunk So many flouds from weeping eies or sunk So many drowning hearts at whose sad fall A deep groan'd Diapason drowneth all And blends at once our Harmonie Oh I could curse that Planet that did reign At thy first birth and e'r since smiling shine Til this unluckie hour it frown'd on thee Prompting our Stars to bode us miserie For if our hopeful cause should gasping lie I 'de swear it languisht since she saw thee die Upon the unfortunate death of the truly gallant and noble Gent. Ed. Sackvil Esquire THy pow'r pale envious death I now defie Thy rage is spent in this one Tragedie Thou 'ast purloin'd our chief wealth and in one hour Rob'd Honours Garland of its choisest flow'r Now do thy worst thy life-depriving dart Can no more Conquest bring nor deeper smart Oft his tri'd Valour in the open field Dar'd thee where since thou couldst not make him yield Now by a weak and clandestine surprize Thou smit'st him unawares by cowardize Yet went he arm'd against that fatal blow Which sin did print upon his flesh not you Then be not proud of this thy spoil since he Did wish to more then you could make him die For now he lives fam'd to posteritie Both for his Virtues and his Loyaltie The gallant spirit of whose youthful heat Doth with his urnes clear oyle perpetuate VVe weep not then because he dy'd but thus The strange chance doth strange wonder claim in us Hee that but newly chang'd his mortal life In sacred wedlock with a happy VVife Is forc'd by th' ignorant malice of worse men To change it for a happ'er once agen Hee whose rich Virtues gain'd each man his friend That knew them both to his untimely end Thus brought by foes if any he could have Hath with his precious corps enricht the grave Hee Hee is gone and nought but sorrow left To mind us of the good we are bereft For 't is not onely Hee we all are dead As when the Sun sets flow'rs seem withered Nor doth his Fam'ly onely lose a stem The Kingdome suffers in the losse of him More I should say but sullen griefe denies I 'l sigh and vent the rest with weeping eies Elegie Upon the death of that thrice valiant Lord the Lord Bernard Stewart slain in the fight neer VVest-Chester BOast not proud death of this thy Victorie In killing him who thus resolv'd to die Hadst thou a life to lose I would on thee Revenge his too too early Destinie But Coward thou nor spirit hast nor heat Els thou wouldst neer ha' smit so brave so great A Person that on thy dread Tragick stage Fought on thy side and in that bloodie rage To thy black shades so many breathlesse sent Perhaps thou feardst his highborn furie meant With fierce assault thy conqu'ring selfe disarm Sans fear of death he fought so at which alar'm Lest he thy territories should invade And so usurp thy pow'r thou wast afraid So ' 'caus thy jealous fear would admit none A Rival in thy Empire thou so soon Didst cut him off Happy unhappy he Right noble born and dying here doth lie Whose single Death-despising Valour made His greatest enemie Death it selfe afraid On the Death of that most famous Musician Mr VV. Lawes slain in this unhappy Civil Warr SUch is the strange Antipathie between The Wolfe and sheep that a Drum with Wolves skin Headed and beat the partchment bottome breaks And soundless to the stick no answer makes So the Wolfe 's by the * Lambstrings break so * dumb Is th'other when you sound a Wolves-skin'd Drum By Wolves our Orpheus thus oppos'd was slain His Lyres offended strings thus crackt in twain At their harsh foes approach and rang his knell Such untun'd souls who discord lov'd too well Knew not the Heav'n of Musicks harmonie And who not love't dull or il-natur'd be But more enraged grew Else like those Wild beasts Amphion tam'd they wou'd ha' rose Inspir'd with love and kist those hands whose aires Ravisht the birds and taught the heav'nly Spheres To move in pleasing consort But e'r sin ' Our Lawes expir'd this Common-wealth hath bin Quite out of tune Could his surviving laies Yet ' swage our Genius as Pythagoras VVith his soft accents and sweet streins subdu'd And well appeas'd a mad-brain'd multitude I 'de swear they were Divine whose pow'rful breath Could Eccho his rare concords after death And in Loves Symphonie unite each part This had been done by Lawes his hand and Art Had he but liv'd e'r now Melpomene Mourn then for earth hath lost her harmonie EPIGRAMS The first Book By Robert Heath Esquire Quam nihil hoc aliud vel malé praestat agam. LONDON Printed for HUMPHRY MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Sho at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. To
not warble's half so wel Observe the cadence where each dying sound Creates new Eccho's to a sift rebound Here 's musick to the sight She looks and sings with such Majestick grace That when I Clarastella hear She more than woman seems her voice and face Taking at once both eie and eare That which of these two senses may Be most refresht is hard to say To glorifie her after death Shee 'l ne'r Need change She 's Angel now and Heav'n is here A Love Dialogue between Damon and Stella Dam. I Prithee Stella why so coy Be free as fair and wee 'l enjoy New pleasures to Eternitie Stel. O no I dare not I. Dam. Nature's Apostate wilt thou prove That cements all with love When all her creatures coupled are Will you be singular Stel. Though all were Male and Female made Yet none shal me in vade Dam. View but our mother earth whose fruit Ads all the glory to it Where all things generate with delight And feeling appetite Stel. I don't abjure societie 'T is fate commands Antipathie Dam. The Sun whose powr'full influence Actuates each soul with sence Inflames chast Turtles with desires And can you want such fires Stel. Yes and that bird shal imitate That lives without a mate Dam. Th' Arabian foul is chast alone Because it is but one For had wise Nature made them two They wu'd like Doves and Sparrows do Stel. Yet the chast Phaenix is admir'd And thought the rarest bird Dam. No she is Natures wonder 'cause She only breaks her laws For which a Martyr in desire She penance doth in fire Stel. But I shall die with cold Dam. How then Can you inflame us men Stel. Although mine eie may sparkle yet My heart is frozen quite Chorus With warm embraces hot desires And with loves soft yet active fires Let 's warme each other til we prove One flaming sacrifice to Love Clarastella playing sweetly on the Lute THat empty guts of beasts and hollow wood So rare a sound should make what mortal wu'd Believe did he not see what heav'nly hand Made the strings move and breath at whose command They died or Ecchoed from the sacred Quire Lays did our souls as wel as them inspire His lost Euridice when Orpheus won Alas his skil compar'd with thine was none He only taught the rocks to dance you move Each stony heart inflam'd by you to love Then with your powr'ful and enchaunting hand Turn us to stones agen and make us stand Like unmov'd Statues whilst amazed we Attend the voice of heav'ns blest harmonie How the Gods listen to her graceful ayrs Attentive as to Saints devouter pray'rs Wishing shee 'd in those dying sounds expire In swanlike extasie to fil their quire Hark how she whispers from that holy bow'r An Ep'taph for each wounded Auditour While from her sweeter hand the warbling lyre Borrows that sweetnes we so much admire Toucht by her quickning joints the active strings Leap to expresse their joys whilst the sound brings Such new delight I could but wish this blisse That hearing her I had no sense but this To Clarastella Loves enterteinment WHen Love was exild Heav'n and to and fro For want of friends did here a begging go To seek relief in this sad pilgrimage I entertein'd the Youth my maenial page And though he was of many held in scorn Yet knew I he was of a Goddesse born For whose fair sake I took him home and laid Him in the fairest lodging that I had I cloath'd the hungersterved wretch when he Was almost dead for cold and misery Daily I fed him with my sighs and in My tears he quencht his thirst and bath'd his skin Encourag'd thus the lad grew sawcie he Would from a servant now a Master be First he entic'd my thoughts and cuningly Wrought their consent to the Conspiracie Then he fast bound my senses by surprise That so he might at th' Porthole of mine eys Bring in 's Associate then set th' fort on fire Having betraid the breastworks to desire You are that Goddesse hatcht and sent this spie I therefore do forgive his treacherie Fair Empresse now y' have got it by a wile I 'l teach you how to keep it with a smile On Clarastella walking in the Snow that dissolved assoon as it came near her or the ground she trod on WHen Heav'ns Mercurial drops flew gently down As they would cloath not pierce the ground Yet they no sooner landed and faln near Her Glories but 'twixt grief and fear Lest by her candor their's should be outvyd In Envies tears dissolving di'd So have I seen bright falling Stars in show Quench in dark gellies here below When they false Meteors did descended spie A truer light in Stella's eie Thus not hearts only when her warmth is felt But Snow and fire it self do melt To Clarastella Loves Silence AY me when I Am blind with passion why Should my best reason speechlesse prove Doth joyes excesse Which words can nere expresse In silent Rhetorick speake my love If so each smother'd sigh wil vent my smart And say I love not with my tongue but heart But oh if She Blind boy should chance to be As deaf as my discourse is dumb I le never more Thy Deitie adore Or to thee ' ere for refuge come O when thou see'st me stand thus mute and blind For pitties sake my Stella then be kind Know that such love Like Heav'ns comes from above And is beyond expression large Language is weak And should I strive to speak Words would but lessen not discharge My Loves deep Sea 's as silent as profound Ful Caskes stand mute only the empty sound Clarastella distrusting YOu say you love me nay can swear it too But stay Sir t' wil not doe I know you keep your oathes Just as you wear your cloathes Whilst new and fresh in fashion But once grown old you lay them by Forgot like words you speak in passion I 'le not believe you I. To Clarastella affrighted at the sight of a Cats fiery eies in the dark which caused her to shreik THy shril voyce pierc'd each apprehensive ear Deep as thy heart could smitten be with fear That if I had not known the tongue I could Ha' wisht it out but since fate pleas'd I should Be thus o' th' sudden thunder-strucken why Saw I no lightning from thy troubled eie Forewarn'd thus had I been forearm'd and though Prevented not I had foreseen the blow Ne'r weeping Stag thus frighted cry'd so loud Though by his thirstie foes so close pursu'd As thou fair Stella at the sight of that Some Heathen worship as their God a Cat VVhose glaring eies did unexpected shine But with like wonder for to gaze on thine And as they at ful Moon encrease so now The fulness of your glory swell'd them too Since lightning flew from each amazed eie I mar'l not such a clap did follow I. On a Fleabite espied on her fair hand BEhold how like a lovely fragrant Rose
Midst a fair Lillie bed Or set in Pearl like a bright Rubie shows This little spot of red Art could not die a Crimson half so good As this was made by th' tincture of her bloud The cunning Leech knew that the richest bloud In azure veins did lie Choosing thy young soft tender flesh for food Resolv'd thus to feed high Thus being Nectar-fill'd and swell'd with pride He thinks he 's now to you by bloud alli'd O how I envy thee smal creature and Ev'n wish thy shape on me That so I might but kisse that sacred hand That giveth life to thee That which I hardly now can cover'd kisse Then I might naked touch and tast my blisse And though for drawing so much guiltles bloud Thou wel deserv'st to die With a gold chain about thy neck I wu'd Have thee kept daintilie As Scaliger's was in a box and shown As Stella's gentle Fairie up and down On the taking of an Amethist ring from off Clarastella's finger as she was sleeping THou sacred stone whose native heat preservs Man as he was created rational Infuse thy virtues through my Optick nervs Thus while thy temp'rance I behold I shal In stupid draughts my health and reason ne'r enthral Rubies that most resemble flames are so Devoid of heat no fire can warm them wine Thus though this cheerful stone resembles too Scorns yet to stoop to Bacchus reeling Vine Or let his Oppium prey upon his sprite divine Thou more enchanted than was Gyges ring Keep then my souls eys ope while others lie Steept or transform'd in wild Lyoeus sing Io's to madness yet do thou let me Unseen but to my self approach this Deitie How 't blushes for me at the guilt of this High sacrilege Yet though from her I got This virtue sleeping she not plundred is Fair Stella wears a better Antidote Both for and 'gainst the falling sickness wot you wat Loves Expiration BY custom who so bold as he That cannot see Yet I by sad experience find My love 's most modest when mine eles are blind Why should my coward tongue else fear to tel My she Physician I 'm not wel Whose only art Can cure the passion of the heart Why dost thou show such crueltie Young Boy on me Wast not enough to wound my heart Then to add blindness to my former smart But make me speechless that I cann't complain Thus hopeless to be wel again What punishment Is grief that cannot find a vent Ah Cupid if thou wilt that I For her must die Let me but tel her first 't was she She only that did cause my maladie Assist my tongue with so much courage I May tel her 't is for her I die Perhaps my grief May thus discharg'd find some relief On a Christal Watch presented to Clarastella THou careful Steward of my precious time I now transmit thee to a hand sublime And heav'nly that wil guide thy measures wel See that to her thou truth dost alwaies tel When she lies down to rest then Watch to chuse Let thy soft motion quiet sleep infuse But when she waking turns her in her bed Then be thou nimbly busie 'bout her head Put her in mind of me and to her say Though she lies stil yet the time poasts away Charge her not lose it then but to her show When it is time to love then let her know That as thou so I restless watch her and My watchful thoughts a guard about her stand Stand at that happy hour I find her kind Then let thy speedy wings no motion find Go only fast when she retards in love Then poast to short the time then nimble prove True Emblem of my love this Watch I send Which to your careful keeping I commend The ballance like my heart when that beats slow Then fast doth my disorderd passions show The string that holds al is from Cupids bow If that should break alas it would not go The Christal case that keeps it is mine eie Through which you may the sev'ral motions spie The Wheels are my affections which wil stand If you not move them with your gentle hand Oh when it slowly goes then raise it higher That from thy touch it may new life acquire 'T is in your power to make it by a trick Go fast or slow by turning of the nick Let it not once go down Watches you know With little rest they oft forget to go Love like the Sun should ever active be Which when 't declins it riseth instantly Of Love and Liking TO like or not to like doth lie In the election of a curious eio But should I only what I see approve This were but liking and not love Or t' would be general as Boys At the first sight long for their glorious toys Which they embrace til fresh varietie Shews fairer objects to the eie Go Muse and let my Stella know I like her person wel but tel her too I love her soul with mine and thus I find When out of sight she 's in my mind Dialogue between Sylvio and Mirtillo Syl. TEl me if ever you did feel The pow'r of Cupids fatal steel Why the young Tyrant ads disdein Thus to compleat a true loves pain Why faithful Lovers seldom prove Belov'd again of those they love Myrt Oh 't is because true Lovers are Too servil fond and Women care For things though good if easie lest The dear and hard to get please best For should we them but less adore They 'd punish less and love us more Syl. But when the Amorist doth find His love rebukt by some unkind Repulse why doth he yet admire And with sick hopes stil feed desire Himself afflicting thus in vain With hopes of what he cann't obtein Myrt Ah Sylvio Love is a disease That doth o' th' vital spirits ceaze Whose dregs time only must expel Hunger in sick folks doth foretel Deaths sad approach so lovesick men When that 's a dying rave agen Syl. Why doth he not then strugling trie Or to shake off this Lethargie Or as some peevish sick men use Deny'd what they would have refuse All comfort and with like disdein Since She despises hate again Myrt True lov 's not like an Ague fit That doth of cold and heat admit 'T is a quotidian feaver that With constant heat doth thirst create That with its warmth doth make each day Summer and knows no Month but May Repent not then thy wel plac't love though she With the like coyness slight its modestie For who asks doubting lest he should obtein Instructs his Mistress to a coy disdein To Clarastella Loves Constancie 'T Is no terrestrial fire Doth with such heat my brest inspire For then your beauties Sun Had lookt it to pale ashes long agon 'T is a Promethean flame Bright as the Orbs from whence it came So heav'nly and divine Immortal too that feeds this heart of mine Think not fair Stella then That I can be inconstant when That love can never die That
Clarastella Together with Poems occasional Elegies Epigrams Satyrs By Robert Heath Esquire LONDON Printed for HUMPH. MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Shop at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. THE STATIONER To the Reader Gentlemen I Presume upon your Candour in the Entertainment of these Poems otherwise I should despair of the Authours mercy I confess my presumption great that have ventured to the Press without his knowledge but the â—allantness and Ingenuity of the Gentleman is so Eminent in every thing that I could not imagine but that the meanest of his recreations for such was this might carry much in it worthy of the publick view besides the approbation of some friends hath heightened my desire of publishing it who upon their revising of it do assure mee that it is a sweet piece of excellent fancie and worthy to be called the Authours own issue Upon this Confidence I expose it to the world and remain Your faithfull servant in this or any other way H. MOSELEY To my honoured friend Mr R. H. on his rich Poems and Satyrs THou 'rt gone and yet Thou 'rt here to let us see The pow'r of verse how 't makes Ubiquitie Thus th' husbandman away the Harvest bears And leavs the Poor to glean som scatter'd ears Thus we enjoy the Tap-wort of thy Muse Whilst others quaff off thy Diviner juyce That thou wilt drop these Crums 't is Comfort yet To them that Cann't deserve thy Cates to eat Thy Dainties are for forreign pallats wee Are bless'd with scraps That too no thank to thee For had not Fate or Providence thrown us These Hunger had been our Fare and without Ease But I have seen thy choycest cheer and wish Thy several Arts to th' making up one dish Thy rich Composures I have seen Thee Frame Varietie in that which was the same But much-good-do't-you Friends for Wee 're not right Either in Pallat or in Appetite Ne'r fewer Raptures in an Age less wit Less Judgement Fancie Poetry and yet Th' unthristy science ne'r more credit gain'd Nor Poesie in greater triumph raign'd The Laurel fades on Mercenary browes But on the neck of Honour spreads her boughes When Salary and profit rul'd the Age Some few would now and then ride post a stage But Now 't is otherwise the Nobler steed Fames fleetest Coursers Pegasus own breed Do stately praunce 'bout Helicons Lov'd Brink And at the Muses-Well would daily drink The Alteration of the Times is such Great ones turn Poets now and so grow rich All witt at Livery stood before but now The Gentry are at leisure a Lord too Can spare his great attendance whilst hee sits And Votes Happy the man ' Can live by 's wits And such art Thou Had'st thou breath'd then thine Ayres so pure and free Th' adst won the VVench that now enjoy'st the Tree Apollo then would ba ' been forc'd t' resign His Courtship friend would have come short of Thine The greater favour thine I take to bee While Hee grasps Her shee twines Her Arms 'bout Thee G. H. POEMS c. The Temple of Virtue REach me an Eagles plume or take From Mercurie's Aethereal wing Some highborn quil my pen to make Whilst I of Virtue sing Th' Imperial Bay which Poets wore In Saturn's age and humbly grew From base ignoble earth is poore My Temples some more new Unheard-of garland shall invest One of Apollo's burnish'd hair Twisted with threds of life and drest With Sol's bright raies I le weare Hence all prophaner ears my Lyre Exalted to Seraphick height Ecchoes streins worthy such a Quire And scorns a lower flight Mounted me thinks on Pegasus From the despised world I flie Aloft in clouds where soaring thus I view this Deitie There sits she crown'd in glorious state And whitest robes of Innocence Not in that poore despis'd estate As she was banisht hence I'th'midst of a fair temple there Unto her Honour consecrate Her handmaids 'bout her Royal chair Adorn'd with Trophies wait Oh did blind mortals but behold How she dispenseth gifts each where To her attendants I 'd be bold They would with greater care Serve at her Altars but alas They fondly sleight her here below And think her nothing worth because Shee doth so meanly go They do not know what Conquest 't is To have o'rcome one Rebel vice What crowns of joy he purchases Who gets such victories Virtue rewardeth sure though late Who growes soon rich by policie And thriving Arts doth purchase hate And robs his market he Thus by forestalling it Light gains Make heavie purses Honestie That doth it self reward disdains Boones oft in modestie For Virtues sake lets her affect And not for praise or benefit Accruing thence such by-respect Robs both our selves and it Oh what a glorious Court doth there Of all the Graces Virtues too In female shape and dresse appear As if they would out-doe The Heav'ns in splendour and confine All worth unto that sex behold Where Modestie in blush divine With Roses set in gold Triumphant shines and close by her Silence that Pythagorean grace Hee taught his scholars but by far More becomes female race Next her sits Innocence arrai'd In snow-white robes and on her head A Chaplet wears of Love all made And Lillies mingled Hard by this Peer sits Chastitiâ— Her ears close bound about for fear Though crown'd with Lillies too lest she Should ought offensive hear By her with book in hand her eies Fixt upwards sits true Pietie As she with Prai'r cou'd pierce the skies Crown'd with a Galaxie There Love here Affabilitie And by her noble Gentleness By whom sits faithful Constancie Each deckt in several dresse Lowest of all Humilitie Stands gravely by as who wou'd say Though She were crowned too that shee Serv'd waitingmaid that day More do I Laureate view among These holy Nymphs but oh I see High above all this sacred throng A richer Deitie To whom these homage did so fair That I 'l approach and neerer prie Chiefly our eies delighted are With Curiositie Nor is 't enough one Grace to know The way 's all pav'd with stars to blisse We must from one to th' other go And climb to perfectness I 'l through each Glorie then and see What mighty Goddesse dwelleth there Ruling with so much Majestie In this diviner sphere It must be she and Shee alone Unless my dazled eies mistake Whom all these Virtues wait upon And their Queen Regent make 'T is shee lov'd Clarastella she These Virtues court with whose faire store All mankind might enriched be And yet not leave her poor Thy pardon yet dear Quintessence Of all perfection if I In this thy holy conference Intruding presse too nigh 'T was Love did guide me to thy shrine Where I 'l adoring serve alone Thee Virtues self whose soul divine doth make these all but one On a dust got in Clarastella's eie CAn I with patience this my rival see Courting those flames so long ador'd by mee Forcing her shut
her eies from me and thaw A tear which all my sighes ne'r thence could draw Canst thou small crum of earth eclips my Sun And make it set in clouds e'r day be done Could ought but Atomes to this Orb aspire Durst ought but dust approach so great a fire Hence thou unluckie beam but more unkind That mak'st at once me and my Stella blind What have I said my pious rage hath burn'd Too hot and hath on the wrong object turn'd Forgive me little moat I know thou 'rt free How hath my angry zeale accused thee 'Las thou wast thither onely sent by me My guiltless loves unhappy Mercurie Wouldst know then Fairest whence this dust doth rise 'T is caus'd by th' flaming sparkles of thine eies Which like the lightning through my veins have shot Such ardent flames of love so scorching hot My heart 's ev'n burnt to ashes hence it flies Dust as you made it back into your eies On Clarastella singing to the Eccho at Aythorn Church in Kent 'T Was when the Sun had purpled all the West And newly stole into his Rosie nest To bring the Tartars morn our Nymph was grown Weary with walking and did lay her down Upon the tender trefoiles glad to yield Unto so soft a pressure in a field Neer Aythorns holy Church to satisfie Our joynt requests with her sweet harmonie In a serene stil Summers evening Fair Stella did exalt her voyce and sing And as the torrent of her melodie Did genly flow in new varietie Of melting streins in whose swoln rapsodies Shee cool'd the dayes heat and thus fann'd the skies Her Zephyre breath no sooner whisper'd to The sacred walls but streight was answer'd too As if her Angel voyce had eccho'd bin By the blest musick of some Cherubin Whilst from the Church the listning Spirit there Through envie of her phansies chirp't to her And with distinguisht tones in ev'ry mood And skilful accent made her murmurs good 'T was in the Church this Rival dwelt 't is there A better Eccho wil our sighings hear And answer too though ne'r so softly groand Where live thou stil in this thy sphere enthron'd Soon as Shee did perceive her Art out-done By the invisible division Of the Reporters voyce she stretcht her throat And warbling daunced on a treble noat In loftier measures These th' Eccho likewise sent More perfect back than from her first they went Shame now 'twixt grief and anger plac'd did raise Our Stella and provoke to second laies One whiles she soars like the morns Lark on high As with exalted voyce shee 'd pierce the skie Then with a sullen flat and deeper base As she would marrie her Immortal laies With her diviner Odes she humbly dwels O th' Gamut Th' Eccho too this lesson spels And thus repeating descants on each strein Much more distinctly relish'd and more plain How have I lov'd Church-musick e'r since I First there heard this so heav'nly harmonie Thus by alternate strivings as they had Ev'n sung the Sun asleep and made us sad In their behalf scarce knowing which t' admire And count the Mistresse of this holy Quire Our Stella did attempt it once again To get the conquest but alas in vain She striving tir'd and tir'd was fain to yield While the Church-Saint was heard the last i' th' field On Loving at first sight SO smiles the Sun indeed with cheerful eie On the bright gold his raies inform'd and so Doth that its borrow'd beams reflect But why Our hearts turn'd Solar should each other wooe In silence by aspect I wonder I. The Heliotrope that marks with watchful eie His Sol's beloved face and gathers thence Those am'rous features which he there did spie Preserving them by secret influence Waits on him with religious Loyaltie By sighes and groans so wooe the Turtles and Thus doe the Mutes by signes articulate Mysteriously each other understand And in this Brachygrapie can relate Their wils with onely help of eie and hand Nature and Art doth these instruct but we Led with more reason do our loves expresse By louder organs tongues though the eie be The souls true speaking index I confesse Yet do we more believe the ear than eie Our formes in mirrours weep with us or smile So at these christal casements of the eies Our other selves are represented while Each visual beam by repercussion is First met and so retort by joynt recoyle Thus from the sparkling beam of eithers eie Fann'd by their medium air their hearts prepar'd Like tinder catch Loves fire by sympathie And mingle flames Let Lovers then award Cupid his eies since theirs so wel can see On a black mole on Clarastella's faire check HOw fair a Character hath Nature wrot And printed on her cheek in black and white While this i' th' fairer Copie is no blot But a ful period that the Reader might The better understand the sence and know That here Shee stopt and could no further go As when the skilful Artist hath exprest With lively colours a fair countenance Yet he at last doth shadow forth the rest And so with shades the beauty much advance So Nature having drawn this lovely piece VVith this last shade perfects her Artifice 'T is like the mark o' th' richer text or hand O' th' margent leading to some Paradise VVhere 't points at some choise flow'r i' th' garden and Bids you there fix and feast your greedie eies This molehil's Cupids throne on which he sits And with his love-arm'd shafts each breast he hits Let meaner beauties patch their painted faces Studying the black art of complection Nature hath here without Arts helping Graces Firmly engraved all perfection Stella's the pattern which they imitate They have no form but what they do create Bleeding at the nose at Clarastella's approach SO at the Murtherers approach we see The Corps weep at its wounds again And I who first was slain And rob'd of Reasons soul by thee Walk but a living Corps and drawing nigh Thus doth my guiltless blood thy murther crie From my dead heart it flowes and boldly there It stares thee in thy guiltie face Fair cruel Murtheresse Soon as I thee approach more neat While thus the spirits all emitted are And for thee blushing in my face appear Yet back thou smal remainder of my life And bid my drooping heart revive Which thus again may live Could it but some remorseful grief Raise in thee at this horrid sight that then You may be quit and I no Ghost agen Seeing Her Dancing RObes loosly slowing and aspect as free A carelesse carriage deckt with modestie A smiling look but yet severe Such comely Graces 'bout her were Her steps with such an evenness she wove As shee could hardly be perceiv'd to move Whilst her silk sailes displaied shee Swam like a ship with Majestie As when with stedfast eies we view the Sun We know it goes though see no motion So undiscern'd she mov'd that we Perceiv'd shee stirr'd but did not see To her
having got a great Cold WHat blasting dewes are these That on thy active spirits seize And tie that tongue did make Musick to all that heard it speak As by the fire Ice is Made by Antiperistasis So doth thy hearts flame within And th' warm ayr ambient 'bout thy skin And colder self congeal it To such a coldnesse you scarce feel it 'T is so the heat is more intense And glowes by th' numness of each sense But oh that vital part Kil not thou cruel frost her heart May th' Elemental fire That burns there purely through desire Scorch like our fires below More fiercely for the frost and snow The Invocation to Cupid OH do not look me dead fair eies Do not allure and then despise Be kind but as your picture that Will look and smile though you will not Ye Gods or women make lesse fair Or else lesse cruell then they are Or strike me Cupid blind like thee So I my torment shal not see To one blaming my high-minded Love TOo great wherein is it in wealth or bloud Or is she any way too good The sacred treasure that I bring is Love Angels enjoy nor wish no more 'T is Sovereign too and sans allay will prove As rich as both her Indies doubled o're Love makes equality nor wil admit Finites should bound an Infinite Who sets no value on himself shal ne'r By others much esteemed be Blind Cupid doth assist the bold while fear Unman's the heart and shuts the Lovers eie But she is high and wel-discended true My birth stiles me as freeborn too No peasant bloud doth stein or chil my veins And the proud Youth that warms them he Was of a Goddesse born and thus disdeins I should adore lesse than a Deitie My loves diviner flames do upwards flie By nature like their sparks on high Base heavy things do only downward tend To the dull center gave them birth But heavâ—n-deduced spirits there ascend Whilst low ignoble minds fix to their earth Mans sight erected looks to Heav'n that so His thoughts he there might level too She is the Empyraeum of my love Whose Glories though they blast mine eys Yet shall my Eagles singed feathers prove Bright Trophaees of a gallant enterprise On Clarastella's Picture drawn very like her FAir shadow of a fairer substance when Thy lively second self I see Nature doth blush that by Arts pow'rful pen Stella agen create should bee See where She all identifi'd appears Except that soul we cannot see Whilst this her eys forme shape and colour wears And ' cud it breath w'ud say 't were She Bright Image of my Saint to thee I 'd bow Were it not flat Idolatrie To think thou lt hear what scarce deaf she wil do In hope thy lips can answer I. Yet will I make this holy use of thee The looking oft on thee may mind Me of that more respectfull Deitie That to my prai'rs may be enclin'd On Mrs. E. H. having red haire on her head and on her left side a pure white lock growing TEll me no more of Helen fair Of Daphne or that famous pair Of lovely Dames whom Jove did court And tempted to his bed of sport Such a fair wonder I shal tel The Golden age cann't paralel Her hair the richest Metal yields Whilst she like Ceres gilds the fields And her smooth flesh with red and white So fitly mixt so purely bright While the choise flow'rs there smile so gay She 's fair as Flora fresh as May Lillie and Rose dwell in her face In ev'ry look and smile a Grace And in whom all is understood What we count either Fair or Good As is the Saints more precious head With gilded raies environed So 'bout this Comet you shal see The Embleme of her Deitie Such light surrounds that all may say 'T is she not Phoebus rules the day While those loose flames about her spread Irradiate not shade her head Let me adore this Saint-like Shrine Ther 's treasure in this golden mine It was not Jason no 't was She That got the Golden Fliece not he She whose sweet looks and glorious hair Dart like warm lightning through the air That in this golden show'r of love She seems like Danae fit for Jove And the gilt threads which twisted lie Wreathed with Arts Embroaderie About her Temples in her praise A Garland and a Crown do raise Why should fond Phansie then compare The sadder with the brighter haire Black tresses ' come the browner hue To set it off the better you Need no such foile your Angel face Wants neither beauty worth nor grace But here behold a silver beam Which from this Blazing-star doth stream And in such curling waves doth flow About her Ivory breast below White as the soul she wears within Doth speak her pure and free from sin Not the blancht snow or Pearly dew Of Morn affords a brighter hue Here is that Christal milky way Which leads like morning to the day To Heav'n oh thither let me come And climb to loves Elysium So fitly on her left side plac't And with such beauty it is grac'd That Nature sure when this she gave her Bid her there wear it as her favour As in our Heraldry we deem These colors of the best esteem With Sol and Luna blazing forth The nobler Arms of higher worth So Nature having drawn this piece Then which was never artifice So neatly pen'd and polisht o'r With skilful art and beauty more Resolv'd for its great worth and fame To put it in a Golden frame If in these outward parts we find Such worth what bears her richer mind May this fair grove then never fade Or be by blasting time decaid May age ne'r hoar that lovely hair Or leave that golden mountain bare May not thy envious kemb presume To pluck from thee one precious plume But if you shed a hair let 't prove A chain to lead thy captiv'd love Or let 't a holy Relique be Preserv'd to after ages free That the succeeding times may tell This from the Queen of Beauty fell Amoris Somnium To Clarastella LOve is a waking dream where both the mind And all the senses drownd in sleep we find Only the Phansie worketh that doth range And to a thousand strange Idaeas change For as in dreams we often turn and sigh And groan as if we were about to die Sometimes we startle as we were afraid Then breath distracted words and cry for aid So in a trance true Lovers restles are Fraught with disorder'd thoughts and ful of care So speechles too when they with grief opprest Speak somewhat and in sighs do vent the rest Stella when thus you see me wake me pray You know what ayles me though I nothing say On Clarastella singing YE that in love delight Approach this sacred Quire and feast your ears Whilst she the sweetest Syren sings Whose musick equals the harmonious spheres And perhaps richer pleasure brings The dying Swan or Philomel O' th' wood
borrows flames from your celestial eie To Clarastella upon a favour received from her which she tied in my hat MAdam the favour I received from you I have it in such high esteem That men might justly deem Me proud of it 'cause to the open view I wear it alwaies in my hat There to be wondred at Ruling in chief there in bright Majestie It doth command all caps to vail And say to it all hail As if they spi'd in that some Deitie The colours they are so divine And with such raies do shine As forreign ships yield homage whey they see Great Britains streamers spread on high And purpling all the skie So when these Rosie royal colours be Displaid then each Spectatour knows That they are yours and bows Juno's gay bird boasts not so brave a plume Nor in its greatest pride doth shine Like this fair flow'r of thine Me thinks I look like Memnon could assume A generals place and overthrow Englands resisting foe A Hector fit for Mars or Venus war Under these colours I could fight Me thinks both day and night Attempt bold deeds kil those my rivals are And through revenge on each black tongue That shal thy honour wrong Wonder not at this valour for I know Under your favour I would conquer you Clarastella's Indictment MY heart was slain when none was by But only you and I Durst it self do this act No a strange hand did shoot that dart Which peirc'd so deep my heart Nor could I do the fact Then I 'm o' th' fact acquitted now The guilt must lie on you I wil enquire no further The proof is plain the Boy that lies Hid in your cruel eies Did do this wicked murther Witness your lips all staind with red They speak who did the deed The Crimson bloud sticks there And makes them at each blush confess For they dare do no less And ory we guiltie are Your pale and self-accusing look As soon as ere he strook Proclam'd you accessorie And your distorted angry brow Your ful assent did show To make my death a Storie In your hearts trembling doth appear Your more than guilty fear You 'r by your tongue bewraid Which silently accusing tels That 't was by you none els My heart was first betraid By signs thus murther 's oft reveal'd Though it lie long conceal'd This doom I wish you then If stil a cruel mind you bear May each man prove when ere You love unkind agen On the loss of a Gold-open-ring in which some of Clarastella's hair was enclosed DEar Gold not in thy own self precious now But for that more intrinsic value thou Enclosest which rich treasure makes thee more Refin'd and hallow'd than thou wast before Though had that finger dropt thou once didst grace I had susteind that fatal loss with less Regret Farwel Yet thou dear Relique that Li'st here entombd and buried in this vaut Of Indian clay which now thy corps must hold Thou didst deserve a richer urn than gold May then that happy he shal find thee kiss And then adore this unknown Shrine of bliss Whose worth since he can never know but fear Some magick spels within and so not dare To wear thee thus afflicted may he bring It back to me and I 'l uncharm the Ring But thee in vain on earth I hope to see I le search the Heavens for there thou next wilt be And whereas Berenices hair was cut And at the Lyons seavn-stard tail was put Thy hair shal shine yet higher in his head And 's neck shal with this Ring be collared To Clarastella saying she would commit her selfe to a Nunnerie STay Clarastella prithee stay Recal those frantick vows again Wilt thou thus cast thy self away As wel as me in fond disdain Wilt thou be cruel to thy self chastise Thy harmless body 'cause your pow'rful eies Have charm'd my senses by a strange surprise Is it a sin to be belov'd If but the cause you could remove Soon the effect wou'd be remov'd Where Beautie is there wil be love Nature that wisely nothing made in vain Did make you lovely to be lov'd again And when such beauty tempts can love refrain When Heav'n was prodigal to you And you with beauties glory stor'd He made you like himself for view To be beheld and then ador'd Why should the Gold then fear to see that Sun That form'd it pure why should you live a Nun And hide those raies Heav'n gave to you alone Oh do not exile Natures bliss Do not Eclipse so great a Sun Imprison not a Paradise In a Religious dungeon Let the foul witch laze in her smokie cel Onely black toads in recluse vaults do dwel Fair Angels live in light the foul in Hel I know 't was you fair thief that stole My heart away nor thus content Your cruel eies then pickt a hole In that which ne'r before was rent And dost thou now this heart hence think to carrie Or being guilty darst no longer tarry And so to shreive thee fly'st to Sanctuarie Nor is this all your theft was higher Than was Prometheus who did take From Heav'n that quick inspiring fire Of clods us living men to make You to Heav'ns treasurie did find a way Where all the Beauties and the Virtues lay And thence by rapine didst them all convey Guiltie of which high sacrilege Dost thou now mean to satisfie The Gods and give thy body pledge To expi'ate thy souls theeverie Stay Votresse enter not this Nunnerie For thus thou wilt but draw more guilt on thee By tempting others to Idolatrie For when thy Glory they shal see Either they 'l all forget to pray Or what 's as bad they 'l pray to thee And turn devotion to play Nor wil the Gods unto thy prai'rs incline If thou shouldst stil continue deaf to mine Stay then fair Saint and make my bed thy shrine Thy self a holy Temple art Where Love shal teach us both to pray I 'l make an Altar of my heart And Incense on thy lips wil lay Thy mouth shal be my Oracle and then For beads we 'l tel our kisses o'r agen Til they breath'd from our souls shal cry Amen The Quaere What is Love 'T Is a child of Phansies getting Brought up between Hope and Fear Fed with smiles grown by uniting Strong and so kept by Desire 'T is a perpetual Vostal fire Never dying Whose smoak like Incense doth aspire Upwards flying It is a soft Magnetick stone Attracting hearts by sympathie Binding up close two souls in one Both discoursing secretlie 'T is the true Gordian knot that ties Yet ne'r unbinds Fixing thus two Lovers eies Aswel as minds 'T is the spheres heavenly harmonie Where two skilful hands do strike And every sound expressively Marries sweetly with the like 'T is the worlds everlasting chain That all things ti'd And bid them like the fixed wain Unmov'd to bide 'T is Natures law inviolate Confirm'd by mutual consent Where two dislike like love and hate Each to the
die Blushes through her modestie There a Pansie hangs his head 'Bout to shrink into his bed 'Cause so quickly she past by Not returning suddenly Here the Currans red and white In yon green bush at her sight Peep through their shady leaves and cry Come eat me as she passes by There a bed of Camomil VVhen she presseth it doth smel More fragrant than the perfum'd East Or the Phoeaix spicie nest Here the Pinks in rowes do throng To guard her as she walks along There the flexive Turnsole bends Guided by the raies shee sends From her bright eies as if thence It suckt life by influence VVhilst She the prime and chiefest flow'r In all the Garden by her pow'r And onely life-inspiring breath Like the warm Sun redeems from death Their drooping heads and bids them live To tel us Shee their sweets did give On the loss of Clarastella's black fan TEl me fair wonder when the gentle air Courted your wanton hair And hov'ring 'bout your face did beg a kiss Proud of so great a bliss Why did your envious Fan to it denie So chast a libertie Nor yet contented onely thus to do Why did you hide it too Why did you blind those lamps which both adorn And can mislead the Morn Believe me 't was unkindly done to skreen That light was to be seen Though the bright lustre of your orient eies Like the more pow'rful skies Or dazles me or sets my heart on fire When I so high aspire Your Bas'lisk look with its bewitching art Though it strike dead my heart And I stand Planet-struck when e'r I view So fair a star as you Yet do I languish like the drooping night In absence of your light For by your beams such warmth I do receive By which alone I live That if you draw a cloud before this light 'T is with me darkest night VVhen Morpheus once had on my drowsie bed His sable mantle spread And drawn the curtains of Heav'ns Canopie Had veild the starry skie In this Cimmerian slumber as I lay Me thought I wisht for day Expecting when the rosie-fingred Morn Should the black earth adorn When with his early raies he should affright The mistie shades of night At last he came and I beheld his steeds Deckt in their Royal weeds And fair Aurora purpling all the skie Enlightned ev'ry eie How glad was I and wisht that never night Might mask so great a light You were that Phosphor I thus long'd to see Hid in obscuritie And now your lustre breaks forth like the day Clad in her best array Oh happy loss by which I gain a sight As precious as the light To Clarastella on a Nosegay of flowers which she wore at her bosome IF Bees extract their sweetness from each flow'r As these theirs from your breast I thee devour Alive then Stella when I honey eat Rare food than Attick flow'rmel far more sweet Yet as rob'd flow'rs preserve their smel stil fair So these fresh in thy bosomes garden are Though blown on whose sweet dewes and Sun above Make them grow there feed us stil fragrant prove There 's scarce a sense but those thy flow'rs delight They please the touch the tast the smel the sight Yet thou the choisest dost this all and moe Thou sweetly dost our hearing ravish too Since like those subtle Chymists then you take Sweetness from them too one more exact to make Thy self which Nectar art oh hiv'd might I Feed on thy Honey and there melting lie Song INvest my head with fragrant Rose That on fair Flora's bosome grows Distend my veins with purple juyce That mirth may through my soul diffuse 'T is Wine and Love and love in wine Inspires our youth with flames divine Thus crown'd with Paphian myrtle I In Cyprian shades wil bathing lie Whose snow if too much cooling then Bacchus shal warm my blood agen 'T is Wine and Love c. Life's short and winged pleasures flie Who mourning live do living die On down and flouds then Swan-like I Wil stretch my limbs and singing die 'T is Wine and Love and love in wine Inspires our youth with flames divine On Clarastella discovered sleeping in her bed SLeep gentle soul and may a quiet rest Crown the sweet thoughts that harbour in thy brest Keep her ye pow'rs divine let no foul sight Afflict her mind no horrours of the night No fearful shapes or Apparitions Disturb her slumbers through sad visions I charge thee Morpheus thou pale God of sleep See thou from her distempers startings keep Let all her dreams be Golden let them taste Of heav'nly pleasures let them all be chast Delights Embraces Wishes and such new And prosp'rous hopes as may at length prove true Show her rich Crowns and Garlands then let love Chast as her sleep such as the Gods above Enjoy steal in her mind and represent The perfect Image of her blest content There let her fix and entertain awhile A parley with her thoughts then let her smile As pleas'd at th' conference or some other way By a soft sigh let her her love betray Thus please each sense with various delight And with fresh sights prevent her appetite Thus let her sleep secure that she may find At once both ease in body and in mind I charge you wake her not no noise draw neer Her bed to whisper in her quiet ear See how my charms have workt behold she lies Like Innocence her self in white her eies Shut 'gainst all worldly vanitie do show How little she regards this earth below Her soul within though active yet is stil Which speaks the calmness of her inward will The Zephyre wind doth not more gently blow Nor with so soft or stil a motion slow As her sweet breath from her here we may find The even pace of a wel-temper'd mind Bless me what thoughts possess my ravisht soul And stir my blood I can them not controul I 'm all enflam'd and yet I dare not do What the fair harmless object prompts me too She stirrs Oh! I must vanish quickly hence Lest I should wake her with some violence To her at departure THey erre That think we parted are Two souls in one we carry Half of which though it travel far Yet both at home do tarry The Sun When farthest off at Noon Our bodies shade draws nigher My soul your's shadow when I 'm gone Waits closer through desire Dear heart Then grieve not 'cause we part Since distance cannot sever For though my body walks apart Yet I am with you ever Elegiack Song LEnd me ye flouds your tears oh more Lend me al Neptun's watry store When he drownd all mankind that I May in this deluge drown and die She 's dead to me unhappy fate That love which burnt so clear of late Is now extinct oh help and I Wil weep hers and mine obsequie To Cupid Song THou that hast shot so many hearts With thy enchanted darts Young Archer if thou hast one more In all thy
store Send it oh send it to my Love Wing'd with the feathers of thy Mothers Dove Or head it with the same desire Thou didst my shaft enspire Or take thine arrow back from me 'T is crueltie Sometimes not to be cruel Oh! Or smite both hearts or els unbend thy bow To a Lady wearing a Looking-glass at her girdle GAze not on that fair Mirrour where you see Nought but the shadow of your frailtie lie VVhere beautie staies no longer then you look On the gilt outside of that rotten look Your self where all 's but dust without and such Foul leaves within why then admir'd so much Since nothing can be lov'd but what hath been Known to the sence or to the eie bin seen VVhy should you doat upon that face which you Never yet saw nor have the pow'r to do VVhose very shape when you have often pri'd And re-examin'd every part and spi'd VVith strictest eie each line and symmetrie Is clean forgot when you remove your eie Which usual instance may instruct you not To studie that which is so soon forgot Since you nor see your self nor look upon That form but thus by meer reflection How know you or why think you are fair Is it 'cause fond admirers say you are For want of judgement or some flattring Asse Or this a great deal more dissembling glasse Tels a fair storie to your cred'lous eie VVil you believe such Romance historie VVhen the spruce gallant courts your hand and vows Saluting it he nothing whiter knows Then gazing upward on that heav'nly sphere Swears you are Angel-like beyond compare Excelling all your sex can you conceive That to be true which he did least believe VVhen th' am'rous youth looks Babies in your eies And through Loves flatt'ring optick he espies At the wrong end a world of beautie there Blinded with passion thus 'twixt hope and fear VVhen he protests he thinks he sees in you Some God-like form can you believe it too VVhen knowing men dissemble truth alas VVil you then trust a dumb deceitful glass Embrace your selfe and like Narcissus pore Upon that Christal til you start a flow'r VVhich fades as soon as blown admiring more That part your selfe then others all the store Then quit that coz'ning beam nor imitate The Mermaid to be onely upwards neat VVith comb and glass in hand when we all know You'ar either fish or what is worse below The blanched Swan with whitest plumes arrai'd Til by her own black skin and legs betraid Did think her self the fairest bird do you But look about you you 'l appear so too VVhat boots a comly presence graceful eie If all be foul except the Phisnomie Wise men admire not beauty birth or blood How rich or fair they ask not but how good First dresse your soul see that be fair and clear And then you 'l truly beautiful appear To Clarastella 'T Is not your beautie I admire Nor the bright star-light of each eie Nor do I from their beams take fire My loves torch to enlighten I No 't is a Glorie more divine Kindles my tapour at your shrine Your comly presence takes not me Nor your much more inviting meen Nor your sweet looks the Graces be Fair Creature in your picture seen No 't is your soul to which I bow 'T is none of these I love but you How blind is that Philosophie Doth onely nat'ral bodies know That views each Orb o' th' glorious skie But sees not him that made it so I love thy informing part i' th' whol And every part thy all thy soul The Farewel to Clarastella PAssion o' me why melt I thus with griefe For her whose frozen heart denies reliefe Find out some other way to punish me Yee Gods and let me not the Author be Of mine own death make me forget that e'r I lov'd at least that e'r I loved her Yet I must love her stil O cruel Fate That dost true love so il requite with hate Why e'r I saw her didst not make me blind Then had she as before continued kind Without pow'r to displease her Charitie Warm as my Love and I had stil been I But now alas my distant bliss I see Which like my courted shadow flieth mee As fast as I pursue ay mee she 's gone And with her all my winged hopes are flown But oh if you one drop of mercy have Let me request you shed it at my grave When y'hear I died for you Oh let there be One tear at least shed from your pious eies In mem'ry that I fel your sacrifice Where though I cannot yet my marble wil Gainst these soft show'rs for me some tears distil Fairest farewel and by my living love Maist thou to me when dead thus loving prove Shed from your eies perhaps one faithful tear May make my ashes quick again how e'r My shipwrackt love in these drops bath'd at last May drowning grasp what 's next and hold thee fast Which whilst I liv'd it could not thus I wil Alive and dead my Stella love thee stil On the Report of Clarastella's death SHee dead forgive me Heav'n I' ad almost swore That she 'bout her had nothing mortal wore Her soul 's immortal and her body too Since 't knew no actual sin must needs be so Our sins do drag us to our graves but she Had no such harbingers her Pietie Made her a Monarch in Divinitie And taught her how to live eternally It is not likely guilty death shou'd take Such Innocence away from us or make Immortal Virtue die old Adam sure Had liv'd til now could he have liv'd as pure And free from either act or thought of vice Hee had surviv'd this age in Paradice Our sins are our diseases onely they Invoke pale death whom we all must obey When he arrests us for these debts we know Life 's the cheap ransome for the sums we owe VVhich she ne'r forfeited 'cause no disease Upon her body or her soul could seize She was so sound and perfect why should I Believe that Clarastella then could die If wantonnesse durst steal into her mind 'Midst her sweet dreams leaving a touch behind Of phansied pleasure yet she wakt a maid And blushing that she should be thus betrai'd By her own guiltlesse thoughts she feard to tel Ev'n what her visions were nor knew she wel What was their pleasant meaning or if shee Did but by chance two Lovers kissing see Shee thought they did but imitate the Dove Thus to affect with chast Platonick love Her salutations deckt with modestie Did like her smiles expresse humilitie Thus was she perfect Virgin whilst her love Knew n'other object but the Gods above How then durst death tow'rds her his dart advance Whose onely sin was harmless ignorance Why should I fondly drooping let mine eies Yeild at the news a liquid sacrifice Or let her dying rumour wound my years Whose virtue did deserve a Nestors years I 'l not believe then she is dead since I Know she hath merited
after many yawns and feined shows Of a transported mind at last the Elf Delivers nonsence like the mouth of Delph Leave leave thou russet Rabbi leave for shame And do not thus abuse that holy name And function of a Preacher drive agen Currie thy horses and not Christian men Else prophane huckster with thy whip thou maist E'r long be scourg'd and forth the Temple cast On the unusual cold and rainie weather in the Summer 1648. WHy puts our Grandame Nature on Her winter coat e'r summers done What hath she got an ague fit And thinks to make us hov'ring sit Over her lazie Embers else why should Old Hyems freeze our vernal bloud Or as we each day grow older Doth the world wax wan and colder 'T is so See how nakt Charitie Sterves in this frozen age whilst we Have no other heat but glow-worm zeal Whose warmth we see but cannot feel All chang'd are Ceres golden hairs To clouded grey and nought appears In Flora's dresse our hopes do die And o th' sudden blasted lie Heav'ns glorious lamps do wast away The Elements themselves decay And the mixt bodies mutinie By a rebellious sympathie Whilst the distemper'd world grows pale And sickning threatens death to all So in an instant waters swept The old worlds monsters whilst they wept It's funeral but the new world's sins Are so deep di'd no floud can rinse Nothing but lightning and Heav'ns fire Can purge our pestilential aire Farewel to passionate Love FArewel fond Love I 'l never bow Slave like unto my fetters I Fair Sex I 'l not adore you now Yet love you as my libertie Love grown adust with Melancholy To madness turns or extream folly About and with your fires I 'l play But with as loose and gentle touch As boys from hand to hand toss away Live coals lest they should burn too much Too ne'r his heart who lets love come Suffers a wilful Martyrdome Stout Souldiers in an Enemies land March not too far sans fear or wit E'r they resolve or to withstand Or wisely make a safe retreat Bodies when joyn'd engaged are Piqueering's better sport by far The Excuse To the Ladie E. B. YOur lovely fair did first invite Me to that strange demand Your wanton eie big with delight Made me to understand You pleasant as your looks where every glance Did raise and court my warm bloud to advance Then blame not me for loving you Who if alow'd would not do so Henceforth I 'l sit demure by you Nor speak when you w'ud hear Just as I w'ud your picture view Behold you and admire For if I speak you prompt my tongue with love And 'cause I tel 't you you unkind reprove Then blame not me for saying so Since 't was your beauty bid me woe Equalitie To two fair Mistresses SHal I freize between two fires Or doth a numness ceaze on me Each star inflames me with desires Yet which to chuse I cannot see Since reason admires equally Then give me both For faith and troth I should be loath Each should not pleased be Or you who so perfect are That nature hath her self outdone In making you bright lights so fair Rule by your turns that so each one May cool the heat o th' to'other Sun And Love me both For faith and troth I should be loath Each should not pleased be To a friend Ode AFfect not aierie Popularitie But what thou wouldst be thought that strive to be Praise is but Virtues shadow who court her Doth more the handmaid then the Dame admire Who only doth wel wel spoke of to bee Studies the praise and not the virtue he To blaze thy virtues ne'r bespeak thy friend If good they speak thee and themselves commend Now men but judge by heare-say thus they 'l know And see thy worth and judge it greater too True worth is best displaid by modestie The greatest rivers slide most silentlie Only the shallow brooks do prattle they Make a great noise and go but little way Fame that doth feed o th' vaine applause of men Gapes to its Eccho to be heard agen And like this lives awhile by others breath Which being stopt is husht to silent death Good actions crown themselves with lasting baies Who deserves wel needs not anothers praise Virtue 's her own reward though Eugâ— none Wil cry 't is Guerdon yet to have wel done A sudden Phansie at Midnight HOw i st we are thus melancholie what Are our rich ferkins out or rather that Which did inspire them the Immortal wine That did create us like it self divine Or are we Nectar-sated to the hight Or do we droop under the aged night If so weelvote it ne'r to be eleven Rather then â—â—us to part at six and seaven Moult then thy speedy wings old Time and be As slow-pac't as becomes thy age that we May chirp awhile and when we take our ease Then flie and poast as nimbly as you please Play the good fellow with us and sit down A while that we may drink the to'ther round I 'l promise here is none shal thee misuse Or pluck thee by the foretop in abuse Time saies he wil nor can he stay 'cause he Thinks him too grave for your young companie It makes no matter Sirs How say you yet toth'tother Subsidie Yes yes And let our Ganymede nimbly flie And fil us of the same Poetick sherrie Ben-Iohnson us'd to quaffe to make him merrie Such as would make the grey-beard botles talk Had they but tongues or had they legs to walk Such as would make Apollo smile or wu'd Draw all the Sisters to our Brotherhood And though the bald Fool staies not let him know Wee l sit and drink as fast as he shal go So as the salt Anchovis swam in oyl Wee 'l make them swim again in sacks sweet spoil On a Map of the World accidentally faln into the water and spoiled THe world drown'd once agen sure holy text Saies it should be by fire dissolved next Deucalion then weeps for this world as much As once for th' old he did it's sins are such And as before he drown'd a world of men In figure thus by chance it sinks agen Who Plato's book of Commonwealth did view By mice devour'd and thought thence would ensue A fatal Period of the publick State Would ha' presag'd the like unhappy fate Had but he seen this were attending us And construed this dire chance as ominous I 'l not obtrude for truths Prophetick dreams Yet Mara's waters like Nil's seavnfold streams ' Tofore that gently did but wet this Land Now in a purple lake of bloud do stand And quite o'rwhelm't and which is worse we fear No Olivebranch wil e'r agen appear The Microcosme of individual man See how that wavers in an Ocean Of perillous inconstancie whilst phlegme And crude raw humours quench the fires in him That his split-sailes bear not the gentlest blast See how the Moral world in strife doth wast And by like jarring doth