thee the rare Laniere to sing Or curious Wilson Tell me canst thou be Less then Apollo that usurp'st such Three Three unto whom the whole world give applause Yet their Three praises praise but One that 's Lawes Age unfit for Love MAidens tell me I am old Let me in my Glasse behold Whether smooth or not I be Or if haire remaines to me Well or be 't or be 't not so This for certainty I know Ill it fits old men to play When that Death bids come away The Bed-man or Grave-maker THou hast made many Houses for the Dead When my Lot calls me to be buried For Love or Pittie prethee let there be I'th'Church-yard made one Tenement for me To Anthea ANthea I am going hence With some small stock of innocence But yet those blessed gates I see Withstanding entrance unto me To pray for me doe thou begin The Porter then will let me in Need. WHo begs to die for feare of humane need Wisheth his body not his soule good speed To Julia. I Am zeallesse prethee pray For my well-fare Julia For I thinke the gods require Male perfumes but Female fire On Julias lips SWeet are my Julia's lips and cleane As if or'e washt in Hippocrene Twilight TWilight no other thing is Poets say Then the last part of night and first of day To his Friend Master J. Jincks LOve love me now because I place Thee here among myrighteous race The bastard Slips may droop and die Wanting both Root and Earth but thy Immortall selfe shall boldly trust To live for ever with my Just. On himselfe IF that my Fate has now fulfill'd my yeere And so soone stopt my longer living here What was 't ye Gods a dying man to save But while he met with his Paternall grave Though while we living 'bout the world do roame We love to rest in peacefull Urnes at home Where we may snug and close together lye By the dead bones of our deare Ancestrie Kings and Tyrants TWixt Kings Tyrants there 's this difference known Kings seek their Subjects good Tyrants their owne Crosses OUr Crosses are no other then the rods ' And our Diseases Vultures of the Gods Each griefe we feele that likewise is a Kite Sent forth by them our flesh to eate or bite Upon Love LOve brought me to a silent Grove And shew'd me there a Tree Where some had hang'd themselves for love And gave a Twist to me The Halter was of silk and gold That he reacht forth unto me No otherwise then if he would By dainty things undo me He bade me then that Neck-lace use And told me too he maketh A glorious end by such a Noose His Death for Love that taketh 'T was but a dream but had I been There really alone My desp'rate feares in love had seen Mine Execution No difference i'th'dark NIght makes no difference 'twixt the Priest and Clark Jone as my Lady is as good i'th'dark The Body THe Body is the Soules poore house or home Whose Ribs the Laths are whose Flesh the Loame To Sapho THou saist thou lov'st me Sapho I say no But would to Love I could beleeve 't was so Pardon my feares sweet Sapho I desire That thou be righteous found and I the Lyer Out of Time out of Tune WE blame nay we despise her paines That wets her Garden when it raines But when the drought has dri'd the knot Then let her use the watring pot We pray for showers at our need To drench but not to drown our seed To his Booke TAke mine advise and go not neere Those faces sower as Vineger For these and Nobler numbers can Ne'r please the supercillious man To his Honour'd friend Sir Thomas Heale STand by the Magick of my powerfull Rhymes 'Gainst all the indignation of the Times Age shall not wrong thee or one jot abate Of thy both Great and everlasting fate While others perish her'e 's thy life decreed Because begot of my Immort all seed The Sacrifice by way of Discourse betwixt himselfe and Julia. Herr COme and let 's in solemn wise Both addresse to sacrifice Old Religion first commands That we wash our hearts and hands Is the beast exempt from staine Altar cleane no fire prophane Are the Garlands Is the Nard Jul. Ready here All well prepar'd With the Wine that must be shed Twixt the hornes upon the head Of the holy Beast we bring For our Trespasse-offering Herr All is well now next to these Put we on pure Surplices And with Chaplets crown'd we 'l rost With perfumes the Holocaust And while we the gods invoke Reade acceptance by the smoake To Apollo THou mighty Lord and master of the Lyre Unshorn Apollo come and re-inspire My fingers so the Lyrick-strings to move That I may play and sing a Hymne to Love On Love Love is a kind of warre Hence those who feare No cowards must his royall Ensignes beare Another WHere love begins there dead thy first desire A sparke neglected makes a mighty fire An Hymne to Cupid THou thou that bear'st the sway With whom the Sea-Nimphs play And Venus every way When I embrace thy knee And make short pray'rs to thee In love then prosper me This day I goe to wooe Instruct me how to doe This worke thou put'st me too From shame my face keepe free From scorne I begge of thee Love to deliver me So shall I sing thy praise And to thee Altars raise Unto the end of daies To Electra LEt not thy Tomb-stone er'e be laid by me Nor let my Herse be wept upon by thee But let that instant when thou dy'st be known The minute of mine expiration One knell be rung for both and let one grave To hold us two an endlesse honour have How his soule came ensnared MY soule would one day goe and seeke For Roses and in Julia's cheeke A richess of those sweets she found As in an other Rosamond But gathering Roses as she was Not knowing what would come to passe It chanst a ringlet of her haire Caught my poore soule as in a snare Which ever since has been in thrall Yet freedome shee enjoyes withall Factions THe factions of the great ones call To side with them the Commons all Kisses Loathsome I Abhor the slimie kisse Which to me most loathsome is Those lips please me which are plac't Close but not too strictly lac't Yeilding I wo'd have them yet Not a wimbling Tongue admit What sho'd poking-sticks make there When the rufse is set elsewhere Upon Reape REapes eyes so rawe are that it seemes the flyes Mistake the flesh and flye-blow both his eyes So that an Angler for a daies expence May baite his hooke with maggots taken thence Upon Teage TEage has told lyes so long that when Teage tells Truth yet Teages truths are untruths nothing else Upon Julia's haire bundled up in a golden net TEll me what needs those rich deceits These golden Toyles and Trammel-nets To take thine haires when they are knowne Already tame
Cabbin blest she can escape The sudden danger of a Rape And thus thy little-well-kept-stock doth prove Wealth cannot make a life but Love Nor art thou so close-handed but can'st spend Counsell concurring with the end As well as spare still conning o'r this Theame To shun the first and last extreame Ordaining that thy small stock find no breach Or to exceed thy Tether's reach But to live round and close and wisely true To thine owne selfe and knowne to few Thus let thy Rurall Sanctuary be Elizium to thy wife and thee There to disport your selves with golden measure For seldome use commends the pleasure Live and live blest thrice happy Paire Let Breath But lost to one be th' others death And as there is one Love one Faith one Troth Be so one Death one Grave to both Till when in such assurance live ye may Nor feare or wish your dying day Divination by a Daffadill WHen a Daffadill I see Hanging down his head t'wards me Guesse I may what I must be First I shall decline my head Secondly I shall be dead Lastly safely buryed To the Painter to draw him a Picture COme skilfull Lupo now and take Thy Bice thy Umber Pink and Lake And let it be thy Pensils strife To paint a Bridgeman to the life Draw him as like too as you can An old poore lying flatt'ring man His cheeks be-pimpled red and blue His nose and lips of mulbrie hiew Then for an easie fansie place A Burling iron for his face Next make his cheeks with breath to swell And for to speak if possible But do not so for feare lest he Sho'd by his breathing poyson thee Upon Cuffe Epig. CUffe comes to Church much but he keeps his bed Those Sundayes onely when as Briefs are read This makes Cuffe dull and troubles him the most Because he cannot sleep i'th'Church free-cost Upon Fone a School-master Epig. FOne sayes those mighty whiskers he do's weare Are twigs of Birch and willow growing there If so we 'll think too when he do's condemne Boyes to the lash that he do's whip with them A Lyrick to Mirth WHile the milder Fates consent Let 's enjoy our merryment Drink and dance and pipe and play Kisse our Dollies night and day Crown'd with clusters of the Vine Let us sit and quaffe our wine Call on Bacchus chaunt his praise Shake the Thyrse and bite the Bayes Rouze Anacreon from the dead And return him drunk to bed Sing o're Horace for ere long Death will come and mar the song Then shall Wilson and Cotitre Never sing or play more here To the Earle of Westmerland WHen my date 's done and my gray age must die Nurse up great Lord this my posterity Weak though it be long may it grow and stand Shor'd up by you Brave Earle of Westmerland Against Love WHen ere my heart Love's warmth but entertaines O Frost O Snow O Haile forbid the Banes One drop now deads a spark but if the same Once gets a force Floods cannot quench the flame Rather then love let me be ever lost Or let me ' gender with eternall frost Upon Julia's Riband AS shews the Aire when with a Rain-bow grac'd So smiles that Riband ' oout my Julia's waste Or like Nay'tis that Zonulet of love Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove The frozen Zone or Julia disdainfull WHither Say whither shall I fly To slack these flames wherein I frie To the Treasures shall I goe Of the Raine Frost Haile and Snow Shall I search the under-ground Where all Damps and Mists are found Shall I seek for speedy ease All the floods and frozen seas Or descend into the deep Where eternall cold does keep These may coole but there 's a Zone Colder yet then any one That 's my Julia's breast where dwels Such destructive Ysicles As that the Congelation will Me sooner starve then those can kill An Epitaph upon a sober Matron VVIth blamelesse carriage I liv'd here To ' th' almost sev'n and fortieth yeare Stout sons I had and those twice three One onely daughter lent to me The which was made a happy Bride But thrice three Moones before she dy'd My modest wedlock that was known Contented with the bed of one To the Patron of Poets M. End Porter LEt there be Patrons Patrons like to thee Brave Porter Poets ne'r will wanting be Fabim and Cotta Lentulus all live In thee thou Man of Men I who here do'st give Not onely subject-matter for our wit But likewise Oyle of Maintenance to it For which before thy Threshold we 'll lay downe Our Thyrse for Scepter and our Baies for Crown For to say truth all Garlands are thy due The Laurell Mirtle Oke and Ivie too The sadnesse of things for Sapho's sicknesse LIllies will languish Violets look ill Sickly the Prim-rose Pale the Daffadill That gallant Tulip will hang down his head Like to a Virgin newly ravished Pansies will weep and Marygolds will wither And keep a Fast and Funerall together If Sapho droop Daisies will open never But bid Good-night and close their lids for ever Leanders Obsequies WHen as Leander young was drown'd No heart by love receiv'd a wound But on a Rock himselfe sate by There weeping sup'rabundantly Sighs numberlesse he cast about And all his Tapers thus put out His head upon his hand he laid And sobbing deeply thus he said Ah cruell Sea and looking on 't Wept as he 'd drowne the Hellespont And sure his tongue had more exprest But that his teares forbad the rest Hope heartens NOne goes to warfare but with this intent The gaines must dead the feare of detriment Foure things make us happy here HEalth is the first good lent to men A gentle disposition then Next to be rich by no by-wayes Lastly with friends t' enjoy our dayes His parting from Mrs Dorothy Keneday WHen I did goe from thee I felt that smart Which Bodies do when Souls from them depart Thou did'st not mind it though thou then might'st see Me turn'd to tears yet did'st not weep for me 'T is true I kist thee but I co'd not heare Thee spend a sigh t' accompany my teare Leanders Obsequies WHen as Leander young was drown'd No heart by love receiv'd a wound But on a Rock himselfe sate by There weeping sup'rabundantly Sighs numberlesse he cast about And all his Tapers thus put out His head upon his hand he laid And sobbing deeply thus he said Ah cruell Sea and looking on 't Wept as he 'd drowne the Hellespont And sure his tongue had more exprest But that his teares forbad the rest Hope heartens NOne goes to warfare but with this intent The gaines must dead the feare of detriment Foure things make us happy here HEalth is the first good lent to men A gentle disposition then Next to be rich by no by-wayes Lastly with friends t' enjoy our dayes His parting from Mrs Dorothy Keneday WHen I did goe from thee I felt that smart Which Bodies do when Souls from
come Hymen guide To the bed the bashfull Bride IV. Night now hath watch'd her self half blind Yet not a Maiden-head resign'd 'T is strange ye will not flie To Love's sweet mysterie Might you Full-Moon the sweets Have promis'd to your sheets She soon wo'd leave her spheare To be admitted there Then away come Hymen guide To the bed the bashfull Bride V. On on devoutly make no stay While Domiduca leads the way And Genius who attends The bed for luckie ends With Juno goes the houres And Graces strewing flowers And the boyes with sweet tunes sing Hymen O Hymen bring 〈◊〉 the â—â—rtles Hymen guide To the bed the bashfull Bride VI. Behold how Hymens Taper-light Shews you how much is spent of night See see the Bride-grooms Torch Halfe wasted in the porch And now those Tapers five That shew the womb shall thrive Their silv'rie flames advance To tell all prosp'rous chance Still shall crown the happy life Of the good man and the wife VII Move forward then your Rosie feet And make what ere they touch turn sweet May all like flowrie Meads Smel where your soft foot treads And every thing assume To it the like perfume As Zephirus when he ' spires Through Woodbine and Sweet-bryers Then away come Hymen guide To the bed the bashfull Bride VIII And now the yellow Vaile at last Over her fragrant cheek is cast Now seems she to expresse A bashfull willingnesse Shewing a heart consenting As with a will repenting Then gently lead her on With wise suspicion For that Matrons say a measure Of that Passion sweetens Pleasure IX You you that be of her neerest kin Now o're the threshold force her in But to avert the worst Let her her fillets first Knit to the posts this point Remembring to anoint The sides for 't is a charme Strong against future harme And the evil deads the which There was hidden by the Witch X. O Venus thou to whom is known The best way how to loose the Zone Of Virgins Tell the Maid She need not be afraid And bid the Youth apply Close kisses if she cry And charge he not forbears Her though she wooe with teares Tel them now they must adventer Since that Love and Night bid enter XI No Fatal Owle the Bedsted keeps With direful notes to fright your sleeps No Furies here about To put the Tapers out Watch or did make the bed 'T is Omen full of dread But all faire signs appeare Within the Chamber here Juno here far off doth stand Cooling sleep with charming wand XII Virgins weep not 't will come when As she so you 'l be ripe for men Then grieve her not with saying She must no more a Maying Or by Rose-buds devine who 'l be her Valentine Nor name those wanton reaks Y 'ave had at Barly-breaks But now kisse her and thus say Take time Lady while ye may XIII Now barre the doors the Bride-groom puts The eager Boyes to gather Nuts And now both Love and Time To their full height doe clime O! give them active heat And moisture both compleat Fit Organs for encrease To keep and to release That which may the honour'd Stem Circle with a Diadem XIV And now Behold the Bed or Couch That ne'r knew Brides or Bride-grooms Feels in it selfe a fire touch And tickled with Desire Pants with a Downie brest As with a heart possest Shrugging as it did move Ev'n with the soule of love And oh had it but a tongue Doves ' t wo'd say yee bill too long XV. O enter then but see ye shun A sleep untill the act be done Let kisses in their close Breathe as the Damask Rose Or sweet as is that gumme Doth from Panchaia come Teach Nature now to know Lips can make Cherries grow Sooner then she ever yet In her wisdome co'd beget XVI On your minutes hours dayes months years Drop the fat blessing of the sphears That good which Heav'n can give To make you bravely live Fall like a spangling dew By day and night on you May Fortunes Lilly-hand Open at your command With all luckie Birds to side With the Bride-groom and the Bride XVII Let bounteous Fate your spindles full Fill and winde up with whitest wooll Let them not cut the thred Of life untill ye bid May Death yet come at last And not with desp'rate hast But when ye both can say Come Let us now away Be ye to the Barn then born Two like two ripe shocks of corn Teares are Tongues WHen Julia chid I stood as mute the while As is the fish or tonguelesse Crocodile Aire coyn'd to words my Julia co'd not heare But she co'd see each eye to stamp a teare By which mine angry Mistresse might descry Teares are the noble language of the eye And when true love of words is destitute The Eyes by tears speak while the Tongue is mute Upon a young mother of many children LEt all chaste Matrons when they chance to see My num'rous issue Praise and pitty me Praise me for having such a fruitfull wombe Pity me too who found so soone a Tomb. To Electra I Le come to thee in all those shapes As Jove did when he made his rapes Onely I le not appeare to thee As he did once to Semele Thunder and Lightning I le lay by To talk with thee familiarly Which done then quickly we 'll undresse To one and th' others nakednesse And ravisht plunge into the bed Bodies and souls commingled And kissing so as none may heare We 'll weary all the Fables there His wish IT is sufficient if we pray To Jove who gives and takes away Let him the Land and Living finde Let me alone to fit the mind His Protestation to Perilla NOone-day and Midnight shall at once be seene Trees at one time shall be both sere and greene Fire and water shall together lye In one-self-sweet-conspiring sympathie Summer and Winter shall at one time show Ripe eares of corne and up to th' eares in snow Seas shall be sandlesse Fields devoid of grasse Shapelesse the world as when all Chaos was Before my deare Perilla I will be False to my vow or fall away from thee Love perfumes all parts IF I kisse Anthea's brest There I smell the Phenix nest If her lip the most sincere Altar of Incense I smell there Hands and thighs and legs are all Richly Aromaticall Goddesse Isis cann't transfer Musks and Ambers more from her Nor can Juno sweeter be When she lyes with Jove then she To Julia. PErmit me Julia now to goe away Or by thy love decree me here to stay If thou wilt say that I shall live with thee Here shall my endless Tabernacle be If not as banisht I will live alone There where no language ever yet was known On himselfe LOve-sick I am and must endure A desp'rate grief that finds no cure Ah me I try and trying prove No Herbs have power to cure Love Onely our Soveraign salve I know And that is Death the end
have lost One Cordelion had that Age long since This Three which Three you make up Foure Brave Prince To Jealousie O Jealousie that art The Canker of the heart And mak'st all hell Where thou do'st dwell For pitie be No Furie or no Fire-brand to me 2. Farre from me I le remove All thoughts of irksome Love And turn to snow Or Christall grow To keep still free O! Soul-tormenting Jealousie from Thee To live Freely LEt 's live in hast use pleasures while we may Co'd life return 'twod never lose a day Upon Spunge Epig. SPunge makes his boasts that he 's the onely man Can hold of Beere and Ale an Ocean Is this his Glory then his Triumph's Poore I know the Tunne of Hidleberge holds more His Almes HEre here I live And somewhat give Of what I have To those who crave Little or much My Almnes is such But if my deal Of Oyl and Meal Shall fuller grow More I le bestow Mean time be it E'en but a bit Or else a crum The scrip hath some Upon himself COme leave this loathed Country-life and then Grow up to be a Roman Citizen Those mites of Time which yet remain unspent Waste thou in that most Civill Government Get their comportment and the gliding tongue Of those mild Men thou art to live among Then being seated in that smoother Sphere Decree thy everlasting Topick there And to the Farm-house nere return at all Though Granges do not love thee Cities shall To enjoy the Time WHile Fates permits us let 's be merry Passe all we must the fatall Ferry And this our life too whirles away With the Rotation of the Day Upon Love 1. LOve I have broke Thy yoke The neck is free But when I 'm next Love vext Then shackell me 2. 'T is better yet To fret The feet or hands Then to enthrall Or gall The neck with bands To the right Honourable Mildmay Earle of Westmorland YOu are a Lord an Earle nay more a Man Who writes sweet Numbers well as any can If so why then are not These Verses hurld Like Sybels Leaves throughout the ample world What is a Jewell if it be not set Forth by a Ring or some rich Carkanet But being so then the beholders cry See see a Jemme as rare as Baelus eye Then publick praise do's runne upon the Stone For a most rich a rare a precious One. Expose your jewels then unto the view That we may praise Them or themselves prize You. Vertue conceal'd with Horace you 'l confesse Differs not much from drowzie slothfullnesse The Plunder I Am of all berefe Save but some few Beanes left Whereof at last to make For me and mine a Cake Which eaten they and I Will say our grace and die Littlenesse no cause of Leannesse ONe feeds on Lard and yet is leane And I but feasting with a Beane Grow fat and smooth The reason is Jove prospers my meat more then his Upon one who said she was alwayes young YOu say y' are young but when your Teeth are told To be but three Black-ey'd wee 'l thinke y' are old Upon Huncks Epig. HUncks ha's no money he do's sweare or say About him when the Taverns shot 's to pay If he ha's none in 's pockets trust me Huncks Ha's none at home in Coffers Desks or Trunks The Jimmall Ring or True-love-knot THou sent'st to me a True-love-knot but I Return'd a Ring of Jimmals to imply Thy Love had one knot mine a triple tye The parting Verse or charge to his supposed Wife when he travelled GO hence and with this parting kisse Which joyns two souls remember this Though thou beest young kind soft and faire And may'st draw thousands with a haire Yet let these glib temptations be Furies to others Friends to me Looke upon all and though on fire Thou set'st their hearts yet chaste desire Steere Thee to me and thinke me gone In having all that thou hast none Nor so immured wo'd I have Thee live as dead and in thy grave But walke abroad yet wisely well Stand for my comming Sentinell And think as thou do'st walke the street Me or my shadow thou do'st meet I know a thousand greedy eyes Will on thy Feature tirannize In my short absence yet behold Them like some Picture or some Mould Fashion'd like Thee which though ' tave eares And eyes it neither sees or heares Gifts will be sent and Letters which Are the expressions of that itch And salt which frets thy Suters fly Both lest thou lose thy liberty For that once lost thou 't fall to one Then prostrate to a million But if they wooe thee do thou say As that chaste Queen of Ithaca Did to her suitors this web done Undone as oft as done I 'm wonne I will not urge Thee for I know Though thou art young thou canst say no And no again and so deny Those thy Lust-burning Incubi Let them enstile Thee Fairest fair The Pearle of Princes yet despairè That so thou art because thou must Believe Love speaks it not but Lust And this their Flatt'rie do's commend Thee chiefly for their pleasures end I am not jealous of thy Faith Or will be for the Axiome saith He that doth suspect do's haste A gentle mind to be unchaste No live thee to thy selfe and keep Thy thoughts as cold as is thy sleep And let thy dreames be only fed With this that I am in thy bed And thou then turning in that Sphere Waking shalt find me sleeping there But yet if boundlesse Lust must skaile Thy Fortress and will needs prevaile And wildly force a paslage in Banish consent and 't is no sinne Of Thine so Lucrece fell and the Chaste Syracusian Cyane So Medullina fell yet none Of these had imputation For the least trespasse 'cause the mind Here was not with the act combin'd The body sins not 't is the Will That makes the Action good or ill And if thy fall sho'd this way come Triumph in such a Martirdome I will not over-long enlarge To thee this my religious charge Take this compression so by this Means I shall know what other kisse Is mixt with mine and truly know Returning if 't be mine or no Keepe it till then and now my Spouse For my wisht safety pay thy vowes And prayers to Venus if it please The Great-blew-ruler of the Seas Not many full-fac't-moons shall waine Lean-horn'd before I come again As one triumphant when I find In thee all faith of Woman-kind Nor wo'd I have thee thinke that Thou Had'st power thy selfe to keep this vow But having scapt temptations shelfe Know vertue taught thee not thy selfe To his Kinsman Sir Tho. Soame SEeing Thee Soame I see a Goodly man And in that Good a great Patrician Next to which Two among the City-Powers And Thrones thy selfe one of Those Senatours Not wearing Purple only for the show As many Conscripts of the Citie do But for True Service worthy of that Gowne The Golden chain too and the
Plots not still prosperous ALl are not ill Plots that doe sometimes faile Nor those false vows which oft times don't prevaile Flatterie WHat is 't that wafts a Prince example showes 'T is flatterie spends a King more then his foes Upon Rumpe RUmpe is a Turne-broach yet he seldome can Steale a swolne sop out of the Dripping pan Upon Shopter OLd Widow Shopter when so ere she cryes Le ts drip a certain Gravie from her eyes Vpon Deb. IF felt and heard unseen thou dost me please If seen thou lik'st me Deb in none of these Excesse EXcesse is sluttish keepe the meane for why Vertue 's clean Conclave is sobriety Upon Croot ONe silver spoon shines in the house of Croot Who cannot buie or steale a second to 't The soul is the salt THe body's salt the soule is which when gon The flesh soone sucks in putrifaction Vpon Flood or a thankfull man FLood if he has for him and his a bit He sayes his fore and after Grace for it If meate he wants then Grace he sayes to see His hungry belly borne by Legs Jaile-free Thus have or have not all alike is good To this our poore yet ever patient Flood Upon Pimpe WHen Pimpes feet sweat as they doe often use There springs a sope-like-lather in his shoos Upon Luske IN Den'-shire Kerzie Lusk when he was dead Wo'd shrouded be and therewith buried When his Assignes askt him the reason why He said because he got his wealth thereby Foolishnesse IN 's Tusc'lanes Tullie doth confesse No plague ther 's like to foolishnesse Upon Rush. RUsh saves his shooes in wet and snowie wether And feares in summer to weare out the lether This is strong thrift that warie Rush doth use Summer and Winter still to save his shooes Abstinence AGainst diseases here the strongest fence Is the defensive vertue Abstinence No danger to men desperate VVHen feare admits no hope of safety then Necessity makes dastards valiant men Sauce for sorrowes ALthough our suffering meet with no reliefe An equall mind is the best sauce for griefe To Cupid I Have a leaden thou a shaft of gold Thou kil'st with heate and I strike dead with cold Let 's trie of us who shall the first expire Or thou be frost or I by quenchlesse fire Extreames are fatall where they once doe strike And bring to'th' heart destruction both alike Distrust WHat ever men for Loyalty pretend 'T is Wisdomes part to doubt a faithfull friend The Hagg. THe staffe is now greas'd And very well pleas'd She cockes out her Arse at the parting To an old Ram Goat That rattles i'th'throat Halfe choakt with the stink of her farting In a dirtie Haire-lace She leads on a brace Of black-bore-cats to attend her Who scratch at the Moone And threaten at noone Of night from Heaven for to rend her A hunting she goes A crackt horne she blowes At which the hounds fall a bounding While th'Moone in her sphere Peepes trembling for feare And night's afraid of the sounding The mount of the Muses AFter thy labour take thine ease Here with the sweet Pierides But if so be that men will not Give thee the Laurell Crowne for lot Be yet assur'd thou shalt have one Not subject to corruption On Himselfe I L'e write no more of Love but now repent Of all those times that I in it have spent I le write no more of life but wish t was ended And that my dust was to the earth commended To his Booke Goe thou forth my booke though late Yet be timely fortunate It may chance good-luck may send Thee a kinsman or a friend That may harbour thee when I With my fates neglected lye If thou know'st not where to dwell See the fier's by Farewell The end of his worke PArt of the worke remaines one part is past And here my ship rides having Anchor cast To Crowne it MY wearied Barke O Let it now be Crown'd The Haven reacht to which I first was bound On Himselfe THe worke is done young men and maidens set Upon my curles the Mirtle Coronet Washt with sweet omtments Thus at last I come To suffer in the Muses Martyrdome But with this comfort if my blood be shed The Muses will weare blackes when I am dead The pillar of Fame FAmes pillar here at last we set Out-during Marble Brasse or Jet Charm'd and enchanted so As to withstand the blow Of overthrow Nor shall the seas Or OUTRAGES Of storms orebear What we up-rear Tho Kingdoms fal This pillar never shall Decline or waste at all But stand for ever by his owne Firme and well fixt foundation To his Book 's end this last line he 'd have plac't Jocond his Muse was but his Life was chast FINIS * A Javelin twind with Ivy. Songs to Bacchus * A Javelin twind with Ivy. Songs to Bacchus * A Bracelet from Dardanus so call'd * The Sun * The Moon * Hercules * Sparrow * A twig of a Pomgranat which the queen-priest did use to weare on her head at sacrificing * His Spaniel