kisse your hands and take my leave To the Right Honourable Archibald Earle of Ar. IF your example be obey'd The serious few will live i th' silent shade And not indanger by the wind Or Sunshine the complexion of their mind Whose beauty weares so cleare a skin That it decayes with the least taint of sin Vice growes by custome nor dare we Reject it as a slave where it breaths free And is no priviledge denyed Nor if advanc'd to higher place envyed Wherefore your Lordship in your selfe Not lancht faâ—re in the maine nor nigh the shelfe Of humbler fortune lives at â—ase Safe from the rocks oth'shore and stormes oth'Seaâ— Your soule 's a well built City where There 's such munition that no war breeds feare No rebels wilde destractions move For you the heads have crusht Rage Envy Love And therefore you defiance bid To open enmity or mischiefe hid In fawning hate and supple pride Who are on every corner fortifide Your youth not rudely led by rage Of blood is now the story of your age Which without boast you may averre 'Fore blackest danger glory did prefer Glory not purchast by the breath Of Sycophants but by encountring death Yet wildnesse nor the feare of lawes Did make you fight but justice of the cause For but mad prodigals they are Of fortitude who for it selfe love warre When well made peace had clos'd the eyes Of discord sloath did not your youth surprize Your life as well as powre did awe The bad and to the good was the best law when most men vertue did pursue In hope by it to grow in fame like you Nor when you did to court repaire Did you your manners alter with the ayre You did your modesty retaine Your faithfull dealing the same tongue and braine Nor did all the soft flattery there Inchant you so but still you truth could heare And though your roofes were richly guilt The basis was on no wards ruine built Nor were your vassals made a prey And forâ—'t to curse the Coronation day And though no bravery was knowne To out-shine yours you onely spent your owne For 't was the indulgence of fate To give y' a moderate minde and bounteous state But I my Lord who have no friend Of fortune must begin where you doe end 'T is dang'rous to approach the fire Of action nor is 't safe farre to retire Yet better lost i th' multitude Of private men then on the state t' intrude And hazard for a doubtfull smile My stocke of fame and inward peace to spoile I le therefore nigh some murm'ring brooke That wantons through my meddowes with a booke With my Castara or some friend My youth not guilty of ambition spend To my owne shade if fate permit I le whisper some soft musique of my wit And flatter so my selfe I le see By that strange motion steale into the tree But still my first and chiefest care Shall be t'appâ—ase offended heaven with prayer And in such mold my thoughts to cast That each day shall be spent as 't were my last How ere it's sweete lust to obey Vertue though rugged is the safest way An Elegy upon The Honourable Henry Cambell sonne to to the Earle of Ar. IT s false Arithmaticke to say thy breath Expir'd to soone or irreligious death Prophan'd thy holy youth For if thy yeares Be number'd by thy vertues or our teares Thou didst the old Methusalem out-live Though Time but twenty yeares account can give Of thy abode on earth yet every houre Of thy brave youth by vertues wondrous poâ—â—re Was lengthen'd to a yeare Each well-spent day Keepes young the body but the soule makes gray Such miracles workes goodnesse and behind Th' ast left to us such stories of thy minde Fit for example that when them we read We envy earth the treasure of the dead Why doe the sinfull riot and survive The feavers of their surfets Why alive Is yet disorder'd greatnesse and all they Who the loose lawes of their wilde blood obey Why lives the gamester who doth blacke the night With cheats and imprecations Why is light Looked on by those whose breath may poyson it Who sold the vigor of their strength and wit To buy diseases and thou who faire truth And vertue didst adore lost in thy youth But I le not question fate Heaven doth conveigh Those first from the darke prison of their clay Who are most fit for heaven Thou in warre Hadst tane degrees those dangers felt which are The props on which peace safely doth subsist And through the Cannons blew and horrid mist Hadst brought her light And now wert so compleat That naught but death did want to make thee great Thy death was timely then bright soule to thee And in thy fate thou suffer'dst not 'T was we Who dyed rob'd of thy life in whose increase Of reall glory both in warre and peace We all did share and thou away we feare Didst with thee the whole stocke of honour beare Each then be his owne mourner Wee 'le to thee Write hymnes upon the world an Elegie To CASTARA WHy should we feare to melt away in death May we but dye together When beneath In a coole vault we sleepe the world will prove Religious and call it the shrine of Love There when o th' wedding eve some beautious maid Suspitious of the faith of man hath paid The tribute of her vowes o th' sudden shee Two violets sprouting from the tombe will see And cry out ye sweet emblems of their zeale Who live below sprang ye up to reveale The story of our future joyes how we The faithfull patterns of their love shall be If not hang downe yours heads opprest with dew And I will weepe and wither hence with you To CASTARA Of what we were before our creation WHen Pelion wondring saw that raine which fell But now from angry Heaven to Heaven ward swell When th' Indian Ocean did the wanton play Mingling its billowes with the Balticke sea And the whole earth was water O where then Were we Castara In the fate of men Lost underneath the waves Or to beguile Heaven's justice lurkt we in Noahs floating Isle We had no being then This fleshly frame Wed to a soule long after hither came A stranger to it selfe Those moneths that were But the last age no newes of us did heare What pompe is then in us Who th' other day Were nothing and in triumph now but clay To the Moment last past O Whither dost thou flye Cannot my vow Intreat thee tarry Thou wert here but now And thou art gone like ships which plough the Sea And leave no print for man to tracke their way O unseene wealth who thee did husband can Out-vie the jewels of the Ocean The mines of th' earth One sigh well spent in thee Had beene a purchase for eternity We will not loose thee then Castara where Shall we finde out his hidden sepulcher And wee 'le revive him Not the cruell stealth Of
set forth her pedigree Come all who glory in your wealth and view The embleme of your frailty How untrue Though flattering like friends your treasures are Her Fare hath taught who when what ever rare The either Indies boast lay richly spread For her to weare lay on her pillow dead Come likewise my Castara and behold What blessings ancient prophesie foretold Bestow'd on her in death She past away So sweetely from the world as if her clay Laid enely downe to slumber Then forbeare To let on her blest ashes fall a teare But if th' art too much woman softly weepe Lest griefe disturbe the silence of her sleepe To CASTARA Being to take a journey WHat 's death more than departure the dead go Like travelling exiles compell'd to know Those regions they heard mention of T is th' art Of sorrowes sayes who dye doe but depart Then weepe thy funerall teares which heaven t' adorne The beauteous tresses of the weeping morne Will rob me of and thus my tombe shall be As naked as it had no obsequie Know in these lines sad musicke to thy eare My sad Castara you the sermon here Which I preach o're my hearse And dead I tell My owne lives story ring but my owne knell But when I shall returne know 't is thy breath In sighes divided rescues me from death To CASTARA Weeping CAstara O you are too prodigall o th' treasure of your teares which thus let fall Make no returne well plac'd calme peace might bring To the loud wars â—ach free a captiv'd King So the unskilfull Indian those bright jems Which might adde adde majestie to Diadems 'Mong the waves scatters as if he would store The thanklesse Sea to make our Empire poore When heaven darts thunder at the wombe of Time Cause with each moment it brings forth a crime Or else despairing to roote out abuse Would ruine vitious earth be then profuse Light chas'd rude chaos from the woâ—ld before Thy teares by hindring it's returne worke more To CASTARA Upon a sigh I Heard a sigh and something in my eare Did whisper what my soule before did feare That it was breath'd by thee May th' easie Spring Enricht with odours wanton on the wing Of th'Easterne wind may ne'râ— his beauty fade If he the treasure of this breath convey'd 'T was thine by 'th musicke which th'harmonious breath Of Swans is like propheticke in their death And th'odour for as it the nard expires Perfuming Phoenix-like his funerall fires The winds of Paradice send such a gale To make the Lovers vessels calmely saile To his lov'd Port. This shall where it inspires Increase the chaste extinguish unchaste fires To the Right Honourable the Lady F. Madam YOu saw our loves prais'd the mutuall flame In which as incense to your sacred name Burnes a religious zeale May we be lost To one another and our fire be frost When we omit to pay the tribute due To worth and vertue and in them to you Who are the soule of women Others be But beauteous parts oth'female body she Who boasts how many nimble Cupids skip Through her bright face is but an eye or lip The other who in her soft brests can show Warme Violets growing in a banke of snow And vaunts the lovely wonder is but skin Nor is she but a hand who holds within The chrystall violl of her wealthy palme The precions sweating of the Easterne balme And all these if you them together take And joyne with art â—ill but one body make To which the soule each vitall motion gives You are infus'd into it and it lives But should you up to your blest mansion flie How loath'd an object would the carkasse lie You are all mind Castara when she lookes On you th' Epitome of all that â—ookes Or e're tradition taught who gives such praise Vnto your sex that now even customes sayes He hath a female soule who ere hath writ Volumes which learning comprehend and wâ—it Castara cries to me Searchouâ— and find The Mines of vvisedome in her learned mind And trace her steps to honour I aspire Enough to worth while I her worth admire To CASTARA Against opinion VVHy should we build Castara in the aire Of fraile opinion Why admire as faire What the weake faith of man gives us for right The jugling world cheats but the weaker sight What is in greatnesse happy As free mirth As ample pleasures of th' indulgent earth VVe joy who on the ground our mansion finde As they who saile like witches in the wind Of Court applause What can their powerfull spell Over inchanted man more than compell Him into various formes Nor serves their charme Themselves to good but to worke others harme Tyrant Opinion but depose And we VVill absolute i th' happiest Empire be To CASTARA Vpon Beautie CAstara see that dust the sportive vvind So vvantons vvith 'T is happ'ly all you 'le finde Left of some beauty and hovv still it flies To trouble as it did in life our eyes O empty boast of flesh Though our heires gild The farre fetch Phrigian marble vvhich shall build A burthen to our a heâ— yâ—t will death Betray them to the sport of every breath Dost thou poore relique of our frailty still Swell up with glory Or is it thy skill To mocke weake man whom every wind of praise Into the aire doth 'bove his center raise If so mocke on And tell him that his lust To beauti 's madnesse For it courts but dust To CASTARA Melancholly WEre but that sigh a penitentiall breath That thou art mine It would blow with it death T' inclose me in ray marble Where I 'de be Slave to the tyrant wormes to set thee free What should we envy Though with larger saile Some dance upon the Ocean yet more fraile And faithlesse is that wave than where â—e glide Blest in the safâ—tâ— of a private tide We still have land in ken And 'cause our boat Dares not affront the weather wee 'le ne're float Farre from the shore To daring them each cloud Is big with thunder every wind speakes loud And though wild rockes about the shore appeare Yet vertue will finde roome to anchor there A Dialogue betweene ARAPHILL and CASTARA ARAPH CAstara you too fondly court The silken peace with which we cover'd are Vnquiet time may for his sport Vp from its iron den rowse sleepy warre CAST. Then in the language of the drum I will instruct my yet afrighted â—are All women shall in me be dumbe If I but with my Araphill be there ARAPH If Fate like an unfaithfull gale Which having vow'd to th' ship a faire event o th' sudden rends her hopefull saile Blow ruine will Castara then repent CAST. Love shall in that tempestuous showre Her brightest blossome like the black-thorne show VVeake friendship prospers by the powre Of fortunes Sunne I 'le in her winter grow ARAPH If on my skin the noysome skar I should o th' leprosie or canker weare Or if the sulph'rous breath of
a 'cause to dye But these are tâ—oughts And action t is doth give A soule to courage and make vertue live Which doth not dwell upon the valiant tongue Of bold Philosophie but in the strong Vndaunted spirit which encounters those Sad dangers we to fancie scarce propose Yet t is the true and highest fortitude To keepe our inward enemies subdued Not to permit our passions over sway Our actions nor our wanton flâ—sh betray The soules chaste Empire for however we To th' outward shew may gaine a victory And proudly triumph if to conquour sinne We combate not we are at warre within Vias tuas Domine demonstr a mihi WHere have I wandred In what way Horrid as night Increast by stormes did I delight Though my sad soule did often say T' was death and madnesse so to stray On thaâ— false ground I joy'd to tread Which seem'd most faire Though every path had a new snare And every turning still did lead To the darke Region of the dead But with the surfet of delight I am so tyred That now I loath what I admired And my distasted appetite So ' bhors the meate it hates the sight For should we naked sinne discry Not beautified By th' ayde of wantonnesse and pride Like some mishapen birth 't would lye A torment to th' affrighted eye But cloath'd in beauty and respect Even ore the wise How powerfull doth it tyrannize Whose monstrous forme should they detract They famine sooner would affect And since those shadowes which oppresse My sight begin To cleere and show the shape of sinne A Scorpion sooner be my guest And warme his venome in my brest May I before I grow so vile By sinne agen Be throwne off as a scorne to men May th' angry world decree t' excile Me to some yet unpeopled Isle Where while I straggle and in vaine Labor to finde Some creature that shall have a minde What justice have I to complaine If I thy inward grace retaine My God if thou shalt not exclude Thy comfort thence What place can seeme to troubled sence So melancholly darke and rude To be esteem'd a solitude Cast me upon some naked shore Where I may tracke Onely the print of some sad wracke If thou be there though the seas roare I shall no gentler calme implore Should the Cymmerians whom no ray Doth ere enlight But gaine thy grace th' have lost their night Not sinners at high noone but they 'Mong their blind cloudes have found the day Et Exaltavit Humiles HOw cheerefully th' unpartiall Sunne Gilds with his beames The narrow streames o th' Brooke which silently doth runne Without a name And yet disdaines to lend his flame To the wide channell of the Thames The largest mountaines barren lye And lightning feare Though they appeare To bid defiance to the skie Which in one houre W'have seene the opening earth devoure When in their height they proudest were But th' humble man heaves up his head Like some rich vale Whose fruites nere faile With flowres with corne and vines ore-spread Nor doth complaine Oreflowed by an ill season'd raine Or batter'd by a storme of haile Like a tall Barke with treasure fraught He the seas cleere Doth quiet steere But when they are t' a tempest wrought More gallantly He spreads his saile and doth more high By swelling of the waves appeare For the Almighty joyes to force The glorious tide Of humane pride To th' lowest ebbe that ore his course Which rudely bore Downe what oppos'd it heretofore His feeblest enemie may stride But from his ill-thatcht roofe he brings The Cottager And doth preferre Him to th' adored state of Kings He bids that hand Which labour hath made rough and â—and The all commanding Scepter beare Let then the mighty cease to boast Their boundlesse sway Since in their Sea Few sayle but by some storme are lost Let them themselves Beware for they are their owne shelves Man still himselfe hath cast away Dominus Dominantium SVpreame Divinitie Who yet Could ever finde By the bold scrutinie of wit The treasurie where thou lock'st up the wind What Majesty of Princes can A tempest awe When the distracted Ocean Swells to Sedition and obeyes no Law How wretched doth the Tyrant stand Without a boast When his rich fleeâ—e even touching land He by some storme in his owne Port sees lost Vaine pompe of life what narrow bound Ambition Is circled with How false a ground Hath humane pride to build its triumphs on And Nature how dost thou delude Our search to know When the same windes which here intrude On us with frosts and onely winter blow Breath temprate on th' adjoyning earth And gently bring To the glad field a fruitfull birth With all the treasures of a wanton Spring How diversly death doth assaile How sporting kill While one is scorcht up in the vale The other is congeald o th' neighboring hill While he with heates doth dying glow Above he sees The other hedg'd in with his snow And envies him his ice although he freeze Proud folly of pretending Art Be ever dumbe And humble thy aspiring heart When thou findest glorious Reason overcome And you A strologers whose eye Survayes the starres And offâ—r thence to prophesie Successe in peace and the event of warres Throw downe your eyes upon that dust You proudly tread And know to that resolve you must That is the scheme where all their fate may read Cogitabo pro peccato meo IN what darke silent grove Profan'd by no unholy love Where witty melancholy nere Did carve the trees or wound the ayre Shall I religious leasure winne To weepe away my sinne How fondly have I spent My youthes unvalued treasure lent To traffique for Coelestiall joyes My unripe yeares pursuing toyes Iudging things best that were most gay Fled unobserv'd away Growne elder I admired Our Poets as from heaven inspired VVhat Obeliskes decreed I fit For spencers Art and Sydnyes wit But waxing sober soone I found Fame but an Idle sound Then I my blood obey'd And each bright face an Idoll made Verse in an humble Sacrifice I offer'd to my Mistresse eyes But I no sooner grace did win But met the devill within But growne more polliticke I tooke account of each state tricke Observ'd each motion judg'd him wise VVho had a conscience fit to rise VVhom soone I found but forme and rule And the more serious foole But now my soule prepare To ponder what and where we are How fraile is life how vaine a breath Opinion how uncertaine death How onely a poore stone shall beare VVitnesse that once we were How a shrill Trumpet shall Vs to the barre as traytors call Then shall we see too late that pride Hath hope with flattery bely'd And that the mighty in command Pale Cowards there must stand Recogitabo tibi omnes annos meos ISAY TIme where didst thou those yeares inter VVhich I have seene decease My soules at war and truth bids her Finde out their hidden Sepulcher To give her troubles peace Pregnant with flowers doth not the Spring Like a late bride appeare VVhos 's fether'd Musicke onely bring Caresses and no Requiem sing On the departed yeare The Earth like some rich wanton heire VVhose Parents coffin'd lye Forgets it once lookt pale and bare And doth for vanities prepare As the Spring nere should dye The present houre flattered by all Reflects not on the last But I like a sad factor shall T' account my life each moment call And onely weepe the past My mem'ry trackes each severall way Since Reason did begin Over my actions her first sway And teacheth me that each new day Did onely vary sin Poore banckrout Conscience where are those Rich houres but farm'd to thee How carelessâ—ly I some did lose And other to my lust dispose As no rent day should be I have infected with impure Disorders my past yeares But I le to penitence inure Those that succeed There is no cure Nor Antidote but teares Cupio dissolvi Paule THe soule which doth with God unite Those gayities how doth she slight VVhich ore opinion sway Like sacred Virgin wax which shines On Altars or on Martyrs shrines How doth she burne away How violent are her throwes till she From envious earth delivered be Which doth her flight restraine How doth she doate on whips and rackes On fires and the so dreaded Axe And every murd'ring paine How soone she leaves the pride of wealth The flatteries of youth and health And fames more precious breath And every gaudy circumstance That doth the pompe of life advance At the approach of death The cunning of Astrologers Observes each motion of the starres Placing all knowledge there And Lovers in their Mistresse eyes Contract those wonders of the â—kies And seeke no higher sphere The wandring Pilot sweates to find The causes that produce the wind Still gazing on the Pole The Politician scornes all Art But what doth pride and power impart And swells the ambitious soule But he whom heavenly fire doth warme And 'gainst these powerfull follies arme Doth soberly disdaine All these fond humane misteries As the deceitfull and unwise Distempers of our braine He as a burden beares his clay Yet vainely throwes it not away On every idle cause But with the same untroubled eye Can or resolve to live or dye Regardlesse of th' applause My God! If 't is thy great decree That this must the last moment be Wherein I breath this ayre My heart obeyes joy'd to retreate From the false favours of the great And treachery of the faire When thou shalt please this soulet ' enthrowne Above impure corruption What should I grieve or feare To thinke this breathlesse body must Become a loathsome heape of dust And nere againe appeare For in the fire when Ore is tryed And by that torment purified Doe we deplore the losse And when thou shalt my soule refine That it thereby may purer shine Shall I grieve for the drosse FINIS
fire I know yet know not why I love To CASTARA Looking upon him TRansfix me with that flaming dart Iâ—h ' eye or brest or any part So thou Caâ—taâ—a spare my heart The cold Cymâ—rian by thâ—t bright Warmâ— wound i th' darknesse of his night Might both recover heat and light The rugged Scythian gently move i th' whispering shadow of some groâ—e That 's consecrate to sportive Love December see the Prim rose grow The Rivers in soft murmurs flow And from his head shake off hâ—s snow And crooked age might feele againe Those heates of which youth did complaine While fresh blood swels each withered veyne For the bright lustre of thy eyes Which but â—o warme them would suffice May burne me to a sâ—crifice To the right honourable the Countesse of Ar. WIng'd with delight yet such as still doth beare Chast vertues stamp those Children of the yeere The dayes hast nimbly and while as they flie Each of them with their predecessors vie Which yeelds most pleasure you to them dâ—spence What Time lost with his cradle innocence So â— if fancie not delude my fight See often the pale monarch of tho night Diana 'mong her nimphs For every quire Of vulgar starres who lend their weaker fire To conquer the nights chilnesse with their Queene In harmelesse revels tread the happy greene But I who am proserib'd by tyrant love Seeke out a silent exile in some grove Where nought except a solitary Spring Was ever heard to which the Nimphs did sing Narcissus obsequies For onely there Is mufique apt to catch an am'rous eare Castara oh my heart How great a flame Did even shoot into me with her name Castara hath betray'd me to a zeale Which thus distracts my hopes Flints may conceale In their cold veynes a fire But I whose heart By Love 's dissolv'd ne're practis'd that cold art But truce thou warring passion for I 'le now Madam to you addresse this solemne vow By Vertue and your selfe best friends I finde In the interiour province of your minde Such government That if great men obey Thâ— example of your order they will sway Without reproofe for onely you unite Honour with sweetenesse vertue with delight Vpon CASTARA'S frowne or smile LEarned shade of Tycho Brache who to us The stars propheticke language didst impart And even in life their mysteries discusse Castara hath o'rethrowne thy strongest arâ— When custome struggles from her beaten path Then accidents must needs uncertaine be For if Castara smile though winter hath Lock't up the rivers Summer's warme in me And Flora by the miracle reviv'd Doâ—h â—ven at her owne beauty wondring stand But should she frowne the Northerne wind arriv'd In â—idst of Summer leads his frozen band Which doth to yâ—e my youthfull blood congeale Yet in the midst of yee still flames my zeale In CASTARA All fortunes YE glorious wits who finde then Parian stone A nobler quarry to build trophies on Purchast 'gainst conquer'd time go court loud fame He wins it who but sings Castara's name Aspiring soules who grow but in a Spring Forc't by the warmth of some indulgent King Know if Castara smile I dwell in it And vie for glory with the Favourit Ye sonnes of avarice who but to shaâ—e Vncertaine treasure with a certaine care Tempt death in th' horrid Ocean I when ere I but approach her find the Indies there Heaven brightest Saint kinde to my vowes made thee Of all ambition courts th' Epitome Vpon thought Castara may dye IF she should dye as well suspect we may A body so compact should ne're decay Her brighter soule would in the Moone inspire More chastity in dimmer starres more fire You twins of Laeda as your parents are In their wild lusts may grow irregular Now in your motion for the marriner Henceforth shall onely steeâ—e his course by her And when the zeale of after time shall spie Her uncorrupâ— i th' happy marble lie The roses in her checkes unwithered 'T will turne to love and dote upon the dead For he who did to her in life dispence A heaven will banish all corruption thence Time to the moments on sight of CASTARA YOu younger children of your father stay Swift flying moments which divide the day And with your number measure out the yeare In various seasons stay and wonder here For since my cradle I so bright a grace Ne're saw as you sâ—e in Castara's face Whom nature to revenge some youthfull crime Would never frame till age had weakened Time Else spight of fate in some faire forme of clay My youth I de bodied throwne my sythe away And broke my glasse But since that cannot be I 'le punish Nature for her injurie On nimble moments in your journey flie Castara shall like me grow old and die To a friend inquiring her name whom he loved FOnd Love himselfe hopes to disguise From view if he but covered lies i th' veile of my transparent eyes Though in a smile himselfe he hide Or in a sigh thou art so tride In all his arts hee 'le be discride I must confâ—sse Deare friend my flame Whose boasts Castara so doth tame That not thy faith shall â—now her nâ—me T were prophanation of my zeale If but abroad one whisper steale They love betray who him reveale In a darke cave which never eye Could by his subtlest raâ— descry It doth like a rich minerall lye Which if she with her flâ—me refine I 'de force it from that obscure Mine And then it like pure gold should shine A Dialogue betweene HOPE and FEARE FEARE CHecke thy forward thoughts and know Hymen onely joynes their hands Who with even paces goe Shee in gold he rich in lands HOPE But Castara's purer fire When it meetes a noble flame Shuns the smoke of such desire Ioynes with love and burnes the same FEARE Yet obedience must prevaile They who o're her actions sway Would have her in th' Ocean saile And contemne tâ—y narrow sea HOPE Parents lawes must beare no weight When they hâ—ppinesse prâ—vâ—nt And our sea is not so streight But it roome hath for content FEARE Thousand hearts as victims stand At the Altar of her eyes And will partiall she command Onely thine for sacrifice HOPE Thousand victims must returne Shee the purest will designe Choose Castara which shall burne Choose the purest that is mine To CVPID Vpon a dimple in CASTARA'S cheeke NImble boy in thy warme flight What cold tyrant dimm'd thy sight Hadst thou eyes to see my faire Thou wouldst sigh thy selfe to ayre Fearing to create this one Nature had herselfe undone But if you when this you heare Fall downe murdered through your eare Begge of Iove that you may have In her cheeke a dimpled grave Lilly Rose and Violet Shall the perfum'd Hearse beset While a beauteous sheet of Lawne O're the wanton corps is drawne And all lovers use this breath Here lies Cupid blest in death Vpon CVPID'S death and buriall in CASTARA'S cheeke CUpids dead Who would not dye To
owneâ— I le prâ—ve it that no sorrow ere was knowne Reall as mine All other mourners keepe In griefe a method without forme I weepe The sonne rich in his fathers fate hath eyes Wet just as long as are the obsequies The widow formerly a yeare doth spend In her so courtly blackes But for a Friend We weepe an age and more than th' Anchorit have Our very thoughts confin'd within a Grave Chast Love who hadst thy tryumph in my flame And thou Castara who had hadst a name But for this sorrow glorious Now my verse Is lost to you and onely on Talbots herse Sadly attends And till times fatall hand Ruines what 's left of Churches there shall stand There to thy selfe deare Talbot I le repeate Thy owne brave story tell thy selfe how great Thou wert in thy mindes Empire and how all Who out-live thee see but the Funerall Of glory and if yet some vertuous be They but weake apparitions are of thee So setled were thy thoughts each action so Discreetely ordered that nor ebbe nor flow Was ere perceiv'd in thee each word mature And every sceane of life from sinne so pure That scarce in its whole history we can Finde vice enough to say thou weâ—t but man Horror to say thou wert Curst that we must Addresse our language to a little dust And seeke for Talbot there Injurious fate To lay my lifes ambition desolate Yet thus much comfort have I that I know Not how it can give such another blow Elegie 5. CHast as the Nuns first vow as fairely bright As when by death her Soule shines in full light Freed from th' eclipse of Earth each word that came From thee deare Talbot did beget a flame T'enkindle vertue which so faire by thee Became man that blind mole her face did see But now to'our eye she 's lost and if she dwell Yet on the earth she 's conffin'd in the cell Of some cold Hermit who so keepes her there As if of her the old man jealous were Nor ever showes her beauty but to some Carthusian who even by his vow is dumbe So ' mid the yce of the farre Northren sea A starre about the Articke Circle may Then ours yeeld clearer light yet that but shall Serve at the froxen Pilots funerall Thou brightest constellation to this maine Which all we sinners traffique on didst daigne The bounty of thy fire which with so cleare And constant beames did our frayle vessels steere That safely we what storme so ere bore sway Past ore the rugged Alpes of th' angry Sea But now vve sayle at randome Every rocke The folly doth of our ambition mocke And splits our hopes To every Sirens breath We listen and even court the face of death If painted ore by pleasure Every wave I ft hath delight w'embrace though 't prove a grave So ruinous is the defect of thee To th'undone world in gen'rall But to me Who liv'd one life with thine drew but one breath Possest with th' same mind thoughts 't was death And now by fate I but my selfe survive To keepe his mem'ry and my griefes alive Where shall I then begin to weepe No grove Silent and darke but is prophan'd by Love With his warme whispers and faint idle feares His busie hopes loud sighes and caselesse teares â—ach â—are is so enchanted that no breath Is listned to which mockes report of death I le tuâ—ne my griefe then inward and deplore My ruine to my selfe repeating ore The story of his vertues untill I Not write but am my selfe his Elegie Elegie 6. GOe stop the swift-wing'd moments in their flight To their yet unknowne coast goe hinder night From its approach on day and force day rise From the faire East of some bright beauties eyeâ— Else vaunt not the proud miracle of verse It hath no powre For mine from his blacke herse Redeemes not Talâ—ot who could as the breath Of winter coffin'd lyes silent as death Stealing on th' Anch'rit who even wants an eare To breath into his soft expiring prayer For had thy life beene by thy vertues spun Out to a length thou hadst ouâ—-liv'd the Sunne And clos'd the worlds great eye or were not all Our wonders fiction from thy funerall Thou hadst received new life and liv'd to be The conqueror o're death inspir'd by me But all we Poets glory in is vaine And empty triumph Art cannot regaine One poore houre lost nor reskew a small flye By a fooles finger destinate to dye Live then in thy true life great soule for set At liberty by death thou owest no debt T' exacting Nature Live freed from the sport Of time and fortune in yand ' starry court A glorious Potentate while we below But fashion wayes to mitigate our woe We follow campes and to our hopes propose Th' insulting victor not remembring those Dismembred trunkes who gave him victory By a loath'd faâ—e We covetous Merchants be And to our aâ—mes pretend treasure and sway Forgetfull of the treasons of the Sea The shootings of a wounded conscience We patiently sustaine to serve our sence With a short pleasure So we empire gaine And rule the fate of businesse the sad paine Of action we contemne and the affright Which with pale visions still attends our night Our-joyes false apparitions but our feares Are certaine prophecies And till our eares Reach that caelestiall musique which thine now So cheerefully receive we must allow No comfort to our griefes from which to be Exempted is in death to follow thee Elegie 7. THere is no peace in sinne Aeternall war Doth rage 'mong vices But all vertues are Friends 'mong themselves and choisest accents be Harsh Eccho's of their heavenly harmonie While thou didst live we did that union finde In the so faire republick of thy mind Where discord never swel'd And as we dare Affirme those goodly structures temples are Where well-tun'd quires strike zeale into the eare The musique of thy soule made us say there God had his Altars every breath a spice And each religious act a sacrifice But death hath that demolisht All our eye Of thee now sees doth like a Cittie lye Raz'd by the cannon Where is then that flame That added warmth and beauty to thy frame Fled heaven-ward to repaire with its pure fire The losses of some maim'd Seraphick quire Or hovers it beneath the world t' uphold From generall ruine and expell that cold Dull humor weakens it If so it be My sorrow yet must prayse fates charity But thy example if kinde heaven had daignd Frailty that favour had mankind regaind To his first purity For that the wit Of vice might not except 'gainst th' Ancherit As too to strickt thou didst uncloyster'd live Teaching the soule by what preservative She may from sinnes contagion live secure Though all the ayre she suckt in were impure In this darke mist of error with a cleare Vnspotted light thy vertue did appeare T' obray'd corrupted man How could the rage Of untam'd lust have scorcht