tender years Without a tongue or wit but sighs and tears And Yet I come to offer what is mine An immolation to his honour'd shrine And retribute what he confer'd on me Either to 's person or his memory Rest pious soul and let that happy grave That is intrusted with thy Relicks have This just inscription That it holds the dust Of one that was Wise Learned Pious Just LX. An Epitaph IF beauty birth or friends or virtue cou'd Preserve from putrefaction flesh and bloud This Lady had still liv'd and had all those And all that Nature Art or Grace bestowes But death regards not bad or good All that 's mortal is his food Only here our comfort lyes Though death does all sorts confound Her better part surmounts the skies While her Body sleeps i' th ground Her soul returns to God from whom it came And her great virtues do embalm her name LXI An Epitaph upon Mrs. G. WHo ever knows or hears whose sacred bones Rest here within these monumental stones How â—ear a mother and how sweet a wife If he has bowels cannot for his life But on her ashes must some tears distill For if men will not weep this marble will EPIGRAMS Translated I. On Rome TRav'ller thou look'st for old Rome in the new And yet in Rome thou nought of Rome canst view Behold the frame of walls dis-joynted stone And the vast Theatre that 's overthrown Lo here 's Romes carkass still thou may'st behold How the new Rome is threatned by the old Learn hence the power of fate fix'd things decay But that that 's alwaies toss'd mov'd does stay II. On a Quarreller A Humorous fellow in a Tavern late Being drunk and valiant gets a broken pate The Surgeon with his instruments and skill Searcheâ— his skull deeper and deeper still To feel his brains and tries if those were sound And as he keeps â—dâ— about the wound The fellow cryes Good Surgeon spare the pains When I began this brawl I had no brains III. On a Lover WHat various griefs within my breast do grow I burn yet from my flames my tears do flow I 'm Nile and Aetna both together grown For the same grief does both enflame and drown O let my tears make my strong flames expire Or let my tears be drunk up by my fire IV. On Gold IN vain was Danae clos'd in brazen Tower No brazen fort keeps out a golden showre V. To a Friend THou sent'st me Wine I 'd too much Wine before Send thirst if thou would'st send to pleaâ—â— me more VI. On Alexander GRreat Alexander thought the World too smal Which he with 's warlike hand subdu'd and beat But did not he himself most little call He in a little World could not be great VII On a Bankrupt A Bankrupt heard a Thief enter by stealth His house by night and search about for 's wealth In vain quoth he thou look'st for goods by night For I my self can see none when 't is light VIII On a Priest and a Thief A Priest did with a thief together come To th' place where he was to receive his doom Said be not sad do but believe and thou Shalt be a guest to feast with Angels now He sigh'd and said if you 'll true comfort shew Go then and take my place I 'll stay below No quoth the Priest this day I keep a fast And cannot eat until this day be past IX On Love and Death LOve once and Death chang'd weapons Death took Loves fiery dart while Cupid got Death's hook Love at the body Death at th' mind lets fly This makes old men to love and young men dye X. On Women WOmen are pleasant evils and they have Two proper seasons when in bed or grave XI On the Wolf Sentenc'd THe Countrey people once a Wolf did take That of their Sheep Lambs did havock make Some voted that he should be crucifi'd Others would have him in the fire be fry'd Some to be hew'd in pieces with a sword And to be thrown to dogs to be devour'd Among the rest one whom unlucky fate Had doom'd to th' troubles of a married State The common lot of men oh Friends sayes he Lay by your forks and ropes that knotty be The sword the fire the guns the cross the whipâ— Are but slight tortures I have one out-strips All those if you would punish him to th' life Fit for his crimes then let him wed a wife XII On one more learned then others THou mak'st thy self more learned then thy betterâ— And brag'st thou know'st Greek Hebrew Latine letters Thou hast them in thy fore-head and thy hand As if th' hadst all the tongues at thy command For the executioner has made thee more Letter'd by far then thou wert e'r before XIII On Galla. BLame not fair Galla that she 'ld married be Though she be fair to one that could not see For in that thing in which she took delight And which he lov'd there is no need of sight XIV On one Lowsie and Poor A Lowsie fellow once was ask'd how he Having so many cattel poor could be He answered hence proceeds my poverty Though I 'ld sell all for nought yet none would buy XV. A happy Death LEarn to live well if thou 'ldst dye happily And that thou may'st live happy learn to dye XVI On Nero. WHen bloudy Nero his own mother slew He did not hurt her face or eyes 't is true But ripp'd her bowels up 't was justly done They'd guilt enough in breeding such a Son XVII On Love LOve is a Merchandize and Venus drove The first Monopoly Rich only Love What cannot fortune hire alas for gold When Gods themselves for this are bought and sold XVIII Rules of Drinking IF the Philosopher sayes true the first Draught ' is refeshment unto them that thirst The second mirth and wit doth still afford But perfect drunkenness issues from the third If to these rigid rules you 'l me confine Hence glasses I 'll in flagons drink my Wine XIX A vain Beastor THou need'st not boast cause thou afore does go If that be honour my dog does so too XX. To Momus THou call'st me begger Momus and dost tell I must not triumph so nor so much swell Because I have but little and yet that Is not my own but other Mens Estate Why shouldst thou thus upbraid me with my want Must I be blam'd because my fortunes scant I 'm honest still thou liv'st by theft alone Between us two the difference is none For both of us on others bread do dine Only thou steal'st thy meat I beg for mine XXI On Phillis Tears WHen Phillis comes t' her husbands grave she brings No garlands nor with Odorif'rous things Sprinkles the ground only her tears doth shed Upon the grave wherein her joy was laid The flowers do straight spring up as if she had power To ripen with her eyes and moysten with her showre XXII On a proud Foolâ— THou call'st me ignorant 't
live by the air Here we lie at our ease And get crast and grease Till we 've merrily spent all our store Then as drink brought us in 'T will redeem us agen We got in because we were poor And swear our selves out on the very same score SONG XXVI Satisfaction 1. I Have often heard men say That the Philosophers of old Though they were good and grave and gray Did various opinions hold And with idolatry adore The Gods that themselves had made before And we that are fools do do no more 2. Every man desires what 's good But wherein that good consists Is not by any understood This sets on work both pens and fist For this condemns what that approves And this man doth hate what that man loves And that 's the grand wheel that discord moves 3. This would valiant be that wise That 's for th' sea and this for land All do judge upon surmise None do rightly understand These may be like but are not that Something there is that all drive at But only they differ about the WHAT 4. And from all these several ends Springs diversity of actions For every man his studies bends As opinion builds his faction Each man 's his own God-smith what he Thinks good is good to him and we First make and then adore our deity 5. A mind that 's honest pure and just A sociable life and free A friend that dares not break a trust Yet dares die if occasion be A heart that dictates to the tongue A soul that 's innocent and strong That can yet will not do any wrong He that has such a soul and a mind That is so blest and so inclin'd What all these do seek for he does sind SONG XXVII The Club. 1. PRithee ben't so sad and serious Nothing 's got by grief or care Melancholy's too imperious Where it comes 't will domineer If thou hast a cloudy breast In which thy cares would build a nest Then drink good Sack 't will make the rest Where sorrows come not near 2. Be it business love or sorrow That possesses thus thy mind Bid them come again to morrow We are now to mirth inclin'd Fill thy cup and drown them all Sorrows still do for liquor call We 'l make this Bacchus festival And cast our cares behind 3. He that has a heart that 's drowsie shall be surely banished hence We 'l shun him as a man that 's lowsie He 's of dangerous consequence And he that 's silent like a block Deserves to be made a laughingstock Let all good fellows shun that rock For fear they forfeit sense 4. Still those clocks let time attend us We 'l not be to hours confin'd We 'l banish all that may offend us Or disturb our mirth design'd Let the glass still run its round And each good-fellow keep his ground And if there be any flincher found We 'l have his soul new-coyn'd SONG XXVIII The Prodigal 1. NAy perswade not I 've swore We 'l have one pottle more Though we run on the score And our credits do stretch for 't To what end does a father Pine his body or rather Damn his soul for to gather Such store but that he has this fetch for 't That we sons should be high boyes And make it all fly boyes And when he does die boyes Instead of a Sermon we 'l sing him a catch for 't 2. Then hang the Dull wit Of that white-liver'd cit That good-fellowes does hit In teeth with a red-nose May his nose look blew Or any dreadfuller hew That may speak him untrue And disloyal unto the headnose 'T is the scarlet that graces And sets out our faces And that nature base is That esteems not a Copper-nose more than a Lead-nose 3. All the world keeps a round First our Fathers abound In wealth and buy ground And then leave it behind 'um We 're straight put in black Where we mourn and drink Sack And do t'other knack While they sleep in their graves we ne'r mind um Thus we scatter the store As they rak'd it before And as for the poor We enrich them as fast as our fathers did grind ' um SONG XXIX The Antipolititian 1. COme leave thy care and love thy friend Live freely don't dispair Of getting money there 's no end And keeping it breeds care If thou hast money at thy need Good company and good Wine His life whose joyes on wealth do feed 's not half so sweet as thine 2. I can enjoy my self and friends W'thout design or fear Below their envie or base ends That Polititians are I neither toyle nor care nor grieve To gather keep or loose With freedom and content I live And what 's my own I use 3. While men blown on with strong desires Of riches or renown Though ne'r so high would still be higher So tumble headlong down For Princes smiles turn oft to frowns And favours fade each hour He that to day heaps Towns on Towns To morrow 's clap't i' th Tower 4. All that we get by all our store 's but honour or dominion The one 's but trouble varnish'd o're And t'others but opinion Fate rules the roast Times alwaies change 'T is fancy builds all things How madly then our minds do range Since all we grasp hath wings 5. Those empty terms of rich and poor Comparison hath fram'd He hath not much that covets more Want is but will nick-nam'd If I can safely think and live And freely laugh or sing My wealth I 'll not for Craesus's give Nor change lives with a King SONG XXX The New Gentry 1. ENough for shame leave off this fooling Prithee cringe no more Nor admire the ill-gotten store Of the upstart Mushromes of our Nation With blind and groundless adoration If thy nature still wants schooling As thou dost grow old grow wise For age can easily advise And make thee know 'T is only such as thou That bring and keep both fools and knaves in fashion 2. We make each other proud and knavish For where ever we Great abundance chance to see There we fling both power and honour As if wealth were the only donour And our natures are so slavish That we tamely will submit All our reason strength and wit And pay and pray Great men in power that they Will take our Liberty and trample on her 3. What is 't makes all men so much covet Toyling more and more To increase a needless store So violently tugg and hall for 't Venturing body and soul and all for 't The rich are flatter'd and they love it We obey their shalls and musts And to gratifie their lusts We madly strive Who first our selves shall give And all that is ours to them if they 'l but call for 't 4. If we did take no notice of them Like not nor applaud Their spoyls obtain'd by force and fraud But would live content and jolly Laughing at their painful folly And would neither fear nor love them Underneath
Bacchus drinks all the best wine 3. But here 's the design What 's amiss in the Wine By wenches shall be supply'd There 's three on a row Stands out for a show To draw in the Gallants that ride 4. The first of the three Diana should be But she cuckolded poor Actaeon And his head she adorns With such visible horns That he 's fit for his hounds for to prey on 5. 'T is unsafe we do find To trust Women kind Since horning's a part of their trade Diana is plac't As a Goddess that 's chast Yets Actaeon a Monster she made 6. The next wench doth stand With the scales in her hand And is ready to come at your beck A new trick they 've found To sell Sack by the pound But 't were better they 'd sell 't by the peck 7. The last of the three They say prudence must be With the serpent and horn of plenty But plenty and wit So seldom doth hit That they fall not to one in twenty 8. But above these things all Stands a fellow that 's small With a Quadrant discerning the wind And says hee 's a fool That travels from Skoale And leaves his good liquor behind 9. Near the top of the sign Stand three on a line One is Temperance still powring out And Fortitude will Drink what Temperance fill And fears not the stone or the gout 10. The next to these three You 'l an Usurer see With a prodigal child in his mouth 'T is Time as some say And well so it may For they be devourers both 11. The last that you stare on Is old father Charon Who 's wafting a wench o'r the ferry Where Cerberus do's stand To watch where they land And together they go to be merry 12. Now to see such a change Is a thing that is strange That one who as stories do tell us His money has lent At fifty per cent A Colledge should build for good fellows 13. But under this work Does a mystery lurk That shews us the founders design He has chalk'd out the way For Gallants to stray That their lands may be his in fine 14. That 's first an Ale-bench Next hounds then a wench With these three to roar and to revel Brings the prodigals lands To the Usurers hands And his body and soul to the Devil 15. Now if you would know After all this adoe By what name this sign should be known Some call 't this and some that And some I know not what But 't is many signs in one 16. 'T is a sign that who built it Had more money then wit And more wealth then he got or can use 'T is a sign that all we Have less wit then he That come thither to drink and may chuse III. A new Diurnal of passages more Exactly drawn up then heretofore Printed and published 't is order'd to be By Henry Elsing the Clerk of the P. June 1. 1643. SInce many Diurnals for which we are griev'd Are come from both Houses are not believ'd The better to help them for running and flying We have put them in Verse to Authorise their lying For it has been debated and found to be true That lyings a Parliament Priviledge too And that they may the sooner our conquests reherse ' We are minded to put them in Galloping verse But so many maim'd Souldiers from Reading there came That in spite of the Surgeons make our verses go lame We have ever us'd Fictions and now it is known Our Poverty has made us Poetical grown Munday On Munday both Houses fell into debate And were likely to fall by the ears as they sate Yet would they not have the business decided That they as the Kingdom is might be divided They had an intention to Prayers to go But Extempore Prayers are now Common too To Voting they fall and the key of the work Was the raising of money for the State and the Kirk 'T is only-Free-loan yet this order they make That what men would not lend the should Plunder and take Upon this the word Plunder came into their mind And they all did labour a new one to find They call'd it distraining yet thought it no shame To persist in the Act which they blush't for to name They Voted all persons from Oxford that came Should be apprehended and after the same With an Humble Petition the King they request Hee 'd be pleas'd to return and be serv'd like the rest A message from Oxford conducing to peace Came next to their hands that Armes might cease They Voted and Voted and still they did vary Till at last the whole sense of the House was contrary To reason they knew by their Arms they might gain What neither true reason nor Law can maintain Cessation was voted a dangerous plot Because the King would have it both Houses would noâ— But when they resolv'd it abroad must be blown To baffle the world that the King would have none And carefully muzled the mouth of the press Lest the truth should peep through their jugling dress For they knew a cessation would work them more harms Then Essex could do the Cavaliers with his arms While they keep the Ships and the Forts in their hand They may be Traytors by Sea as well as by Land The Forts will preserve them as long as they stay And the Ships carry them and their plunder away They have therefore good reason to account war the better For the Law will prove to them but a killing letter Tuesday A Post from his Excellence came blowing his Horn For Money to advance and this spun out the Morn And strait to the City some went for relief The rest made an Ordinance to carry Powder-Beef Thus go up the Round-heads and Essex advances But only to lead his Souldiers new dances To Reading he goes for at Oxford they say His wife has made Bull-works to keep him away Prince Rnpert for fear that the name be confounded Will saw off his horns and make him a Round-head The newes was returned with General fame That Reading was taken ere ever he came Then away Rode our Captains and Souldiers did run To shew themselves valiant when the Battail was done Preparing to plunder but as soon as they came They quickly perceived it was but a flam An Ordinance of Parliament Essex brought down But that would not serve him to batter the Town More money was rais'd more Men and Ammunition Carts loaded with Turnips and other provision His Excellence had Chines and Rams-heads for a present And his Councel of War had Wood-cock and Pheasant But Ven had 5000. Calves heads all in carts To nourish his Men and to chear up their hearts This made them so valiant that that very day They had taken the Town but for running away 'T was Ordered this day that thanksgiving be made To the Round-heads in Sermons for their beef and their bread Wednesday Two Members this day at a Conference sate And one gives the
who 'll soon throw down what e'r they mounted high Nor trust in friends he that 's now hedg'd about In time of need can hardly find one out Nor yet in strength or power for sin will be The desolation of my strength and me Nor yet in Crowns and Kingdomes who has all 's expos'd to a heavy though a royal fall Nor yet in wisdome policy or wit It cannot keep me harmless or I it He that had all man could attain unto He that did all that wit or power could do Or grace or virtue prompt could not avoid That sad and heavy load our sins have laid Upon his innocent and sacred Head but must Submit his person to bould Rebels lust And their insatiate rage who did condemn And kill him while he pray'd and dy'd for them Our only trust is in the King of Kings To wait with patience the event of things He that permits the Fathers tumbling down Can raise and will the Son up to the Crown He that permits those traytors impious hands To murther his anointed and his Lands To be usurp'd can when he sees it fit Destroy those Monsters which he did permit And by their head-long and unpitied fall Make the Realms Nuptial of their Funeral Mean time that Sainted Martyr from his throne See's how these laugh and his good subjects groan And hugs his blessed change whereby he is Rob'd in t ' a Crown and murther'd into a bliss LVI A Funeral Elegy GOn are those Halcyon daies when men did dare Do good for love undrawn by gain or fear Gon are our Heroes whose vast souls did hate Vice though 't were cloath'd in sanctity or state Gon is our Aâ—brey who did then take's time To dye when worthy men thought life a crime One whose pure soul with nobleness was fill'd And scorn'd to live when peace truth were kill'd One who was worthy by descent and birth Yet would not live a burthen on the earth Nor draw his honour from his Grandsires name Unless his progeny might do the same No guilded Mammon yet had enough to spend To feed the poor and entertain his friend No gaping Miser whose desire was more T' enrich himself by making's neighbour poor Then to lay out himself his wealth and health To buy his Countreys good and Common-wealth Religion was his great delight and joy Not as 't is now to plunder and destroy He lean'd on those two pillars faith and reason Not false Hypocrisie nor headlong Treason His piety was with him bred and grown He 'ld build ten Churches e'r he 'ld pull down one Constant to 's principles and though the times Made his worth sin and his pure vertues crimes He stood unmov'd spite of all troubles hurl'd And durst support but not turn with the World Call'd to the Magistracy he appear'd One that desir'd more to be lov'd then fear'd Justice and Mercy in him mingled so That this flew not too high nor that too low His mind could not be carved worse or better By mean mens flattery nor by great mens letter Nor sway'd by Bribes though profer'd in the dark He scorn'd to be half Justice and half Clerk But all his distributions ev'nly ran Both to the Pesant and the Gentleman He did what nature had design'd him to In his due time while he had strength to do And when decay and age did once draw nigh He 'd nothing left to do but only dye And when he felt his strength and youth decline His bodies loss strength'ned his souls design And as the one did by degrees decay T'other ran swifter up the milkie way Freed from those sicknesses that are the pages Attending Natures sad decay and ages His spotless soul did from his body fly And hover in the heav'nly Galaxy Whence he looks down and lets the living see What he was once and what we ought to be LVII Upon the Death of that Reverend and learned Divine Mr. Josias Shute TUsh tush â— he is not dead I lately spy'd One smile at 's first-born Sons birth and a bride Into her heart did entertain delight At the approach of her wish'd wedded night All which delights if he were dead would turn To grief yea mirth it self be forc'd to mourn Inspired Poets would forget to laugh And write at once his and Mirths Epitaph Sighs would engross our breath there would appear Anthems of joy lymbeck'd into a tear Each face would be his death-bed in each eye 'T were easie then to read his Elegy Each soul would be close-mourner each tongue tell Stories prick'd out to 'th tune o' th Passing bell The World re-drown'd in tears each heart would be a Marble-stone each stone a Niobe But he alass is gone nor do we know To pay for loss of him deserving wo Like Bankrupts in our grief because we may Not half we owe him give we 'l nothing pay For should our tears like the Ocean issue forth They could not swell adaequate to his worth So far his worth 's above our knowledge that We only know we 've lost we know not what The mourning Heaven beholding such a dearth Of tears showrs rain to liquifie the earth That we may see from its adulterate womb If it be possible a second come Till then 't is our unhappiness we can't Know what good dwelt in him but by the want He was no whirlegig Lect'rer of the times That from a heel-block to a Pulpit climbs And there such stuff among their Audients break They seem to have mouth and words yet cannot speak Nor such as into Pasqnil Pulpits come With thundering non-sense but to beat the Drum To Civil Wars whose Texts and Doctrines run As if they were o' th separation And by their spiritual law have marry'd been Without a ring because they were no kin Knowledge and zeal in him so sweetly met His Pulpit seem'd a second Olivet Where from his lips he would deliver things As though some Seraphin had clap'd his wings His painful Sermons were so neatly dress'd As if an Anthem were in prose express'd Divinity and Art were so united As if in him both were Hermophradited Oh what an ex'llent Surgeon has he been To Set a conscience out of joynt by sin He at one blow could wound and heal we all Wondred to see a purge a cordial His Manna-â—reathing Sermous often have Given all our good thoughts life our bad a grave Satan and Sin were never more put to 't Then when they met with their still-conquering Shute His life was the use of 's doctrine so 't was known That Shute and Saint were convertible grown He did live Sermons the Prophane were vext To see his actions comments on his Text So imitable his vertues did appear As if each place to him a Pulpit were He was himself a Synod ours had been Void had he liv'd or but an idle dinn His Presence so divine that Heaven might be If it were possible more Heavenly And now we well perceive with what intent Death made
his soul become non-resident 'T was to make him such honours to him given Regius Professor to the King of Heaven By whom he 's prelated above the skies And the whole World 's his See t'Episcopize So that me think one Star more doth appear In our Horizon since his being there Death's grown tyrannical by imitation ' Cause he was learned by a sequestration He took his living butfor 's Benefice He is rewarded with eternal bliss Let'a all prepare to follow him for hee 's But gone to Glory ' School to take degrees LVIII To the memory of Doctor Hearn who dyed September 15. 1644. SAd Spectacle of grief how frail is Man Whose self 's a bubble and his life a span Whose breath 's like a careering shade whose sun Begins to set when it begins to run Lo this Mans sun sets i' th Meridian And this man's sun speaks him the son of Man Among the rest that come to sacrifice To 's memory the torrents of their eyes I though a stranger and though none of those That weep in rhythme though I oft mourn in prose Sigh out some grief and my big-belly'd eyes Long for delivery at his obsequies For he that writes but truth of him will be Though without art slander'd with poesie And they that praise him right in prose or verse Will by the most be thought Idolaters Men are incredulous and yet there 's none Can write his worth in verse but in his own He needs no other monument of fame But his own actions to blaze out his name He was a glory to the Doctors Gown Help to his Friends his Countrey and his Town The Atlas of our health who oft did groan For others sickness e'r he felt his own Hippocrates and Galen in his brain Met as in Gemini it did contain A Library of skill a panoply A Magazine of ingenuity With every Art his brain so well was mated As if his fancy had been calculated For that Meridian he none would follow But was in skill the Britannish Apollo His Patients grow impatient and the fears Of death lymbeck'd their body into tears The widow'd Muses do lament his death Those that wrote mirth do now retract their breath And breath their souls in sighs each strives to be No more Thalia but Melpomene He stood a Champion in defence of health And was a terrour to death's Common-weaith His Esculapian art revok'd their breath And often gave a non-suit unto death Now we 've a rout death kills our General Our griefs break forth grow Epidemical Now we must lay down arms and Captives turn To death man has no rampire but an urn In him death gets an University Happy the bodies that so neer him lye To hear his worth and wit 't is now no fear To dye because we meet a Hearne there Earth-quakes and Cemets usher great mens fall At his we have an Earth-quake General Th' ambitious vallies do begin t' aspire And would confront the Mountains nay be higher Inferior orbes aspire and do disdain Our Sol each Bear would ride in Charles his wain Our Moon 's eclips'd and th' Occidental Sun Fights with old Aries for his Horizon Each petty Star gets horses and would be All Sols and joyn to make a prodigie All things are out of course which could not be But that we should some eminent death foresee Yet let 's not think him dead who ne'r shall dye Till time be gulf'd in vast eternity 'T is but his shadow that is past away While he 's eclips'd in earth another day His better part shall pierce the skies and shine In glory 'bove the Heavens Chrystaline We could not understand him he 's gone higher To read a Lecture to an Angels Quire He is advanced up a higher Story To take 's degrees i' th upper Form of glory He is our Prodrome gone before us whither We all must go though all go not to gether Dust will dissolve to dust to earth earth are all men And must all dye none knows how where nor when LIX An Elegy on the death of his School-master Mr. W. H. MUst he dye thus has an eternal sleep Seiz'd on each muse that it can't sing nor weep Had he no friends no merits or no purse To purchase mourning or had he that curse Which has the scraping worldling still frequented To live unlov'd and perish unlamented No none of these but in this Atlas fall Learning for present found its funeral Nor was 't for want of grief but scope and vent Not sullenness but deep astonishment Small griefs are soon wept out but great ones come With bulk and strike the straight lamenters dumb This was the School-master that did derive From parts and piety's prerogative The glory of that good but painful art Who had high learning yet an humble heart The Drake of Grammer learning whose great pain Circled that globe and made that voyage plain Time was when th' artless pâ—dagogue did stand With his vimineous Scepter in his hand Raging like Bajazet o'r the tugging fry Who though unhors'd were not of th' infantry Applying like a glister hic haec hoc Till the poor Lad's beat to a whipping-block And school'd so long to know a Verb and Nown Till each had Propria mariâ—us of his own As if not fit to learn As in prasenti But legally when they were one and twenty Those few that went to th' Univers'ties then Went with deliberation and were men Nor were our Academies in those daies Fill'd with chuck-farthing Batchelors and boyes But Scholars with more beard and age went hence Then our new Lapwing-Lectures skip from thence By his industrious labour now we see Boyes coated born to th' University Who suck'd in Latine and did scorn to seek Their scourge and top in English but in Greek Hebrew the general puzler of old heads Which the gray dunce with pricks and comments reads And dubs himself a Scholar by it grew As natural t' him as if he 'd been a Jew But above all he timely did inspire His Scholars breasts with an aetherial fire And sanctify'd their early learning so That they in grace as they in wit did grow Yet neither 's grace nor learning could defend him From that mortality that did attend him Nor can there now be any difference known between his learned bones and those with none For that grand Lev'ler death hurles to one place Rich poor wise foolish noble and the base This only is our comfort and defence He was not immaturely ravish'd hence But to our benefit and to his own Undying fame and honour let alone Till he had finish'd what he was to do Then naturally split himself in two And that 's one cause he had so few moyst eyeâ— He made men learned and that made them â—ise And over-rule their passions since they see Tears would but shew their own infirmitie And 't is but loving madness to deplore The fate of him that shall be seen no more But only I cropt in my
And that she truly doth reply and don 't lye She prays may be inquired by the Country Rejoynder By A. B. And the aforesaid Roger saith the Plea By her the said Priscilla formerly Put in and pleaded by her Replication In the aforesaid manner form and fashion And the whole matter that 's contained there Are not sufficient in the law for her The said Priscilla to maintain her aforesaid Suit against him and there need be no more said Nor by the laws of England is it fit That he should make answer unto it This to averr he 's ready Whereupon For want of better Replication In this behalf he doth a judgment pray And that she from having her action may Be barr'd for this against him And for The causes why he doth in Law demurr Upon that Replication he the said Roger according to the Statute made And in such case provided doth declare And shew to th' Court of Upper Bench that 's here These causes following to wit that this Said Replication insufficient is Negative pregnant and uncertain rude Double wants form and does not conclude Rightly according to the legal way Joyning in Demurrer By A. B. And she the said Priscilla here doth say That the said Plea which by reply has been Pleaded by her and what 's contain'd therein In point of Law good and sufficient be Her suit against him to maâ—ntain And she That Plea and matter pleaded as above Is ready here both to maintain and prove As this Court shall consider and think fit And ' cause he does not answer it nor yet Deny the Replication any way The said Priscilla as before doth pray Judgement and dammages to be judg'd to her For all this injury which he did do her But ' cause this Court here not advised is Of giving judgment of the premises A day 's giv'n to both parties to appear I' th Upper Bench before the Keepers here At Westminster till Munday after eight Dayes of St. Hillary for the receipt And hearing of their Judgment upon it For that the Court is not advis'd as yet LVI To the Kings most Sacred Majesty on his miraculous and glorious return 29. May 1660. NOw our Spring-royal's come this cursed ground Which for twelve years with Tyrants did abound Bears Kings again a memorable Spring May first brought forth May now brings home our King Auspicious Twenty ninth this day of Mirth Now gives Redemption which before gave Birth Hark how th' admiring people cry and shout See how they flock and leap for joy the Rout Whose Zeal and Ignorance for many years Devis'd those Goblins Jealousies and Fears And fighting blindfold in those puzling Mists Rais'd by the conjuring of their Exorcists Wounded and chas'd and kill'd each other while Their Setters-on did share the prey and smile Now the delusion 's o'r do plainly see What once they were what now they ought to be T' abused Trumpet that was only taught To inspire Rebellion now corrects its fault Tun'd by your Fame and with more chearful voyce Contributes sounds and helps us to Rejoyce The Guns which roar'd for your best subjects bloud Disown their cause now better understood The Bells that for sedition long chim'd in As if themselves too Rebaptiz'd had been Convert their notes ecchoing with louder peal The harmony of Church and Common-weal While in contiguous Bon-fires all the Nation Paint their late fears and sport with Conflagration 'Bout which rejoycing Neighbours friendly meet And with fresh wood the kind devourer greet Mean while th' old Subjects who so long have slept In Caves and been miraculously kept From Rage and Famine while the only thing That fed and cloath'd them was the hope of King Do all New-plume themselves to entertain Your long'd-for Majesty and welcome Train And as in Job's time 't was those Spurious things Who look like Subjects but did ne'r love Kings Appear among your Subjects in array That 's undiscernable unless more gay All with loud hallows pierce the smiling skies While brandish'd Swords please and amaze our eyes Why then should only I stand still and bear No part of triumph in this Theatre Though I 'm not wise enough to speak t' a King What 's worth his ear nor rich enough to bring Gifts worthy his acceptance though I do Not ride in Buff and Feathers in the show Which Pomp I did industriously eschew That Cost being more to me than th' shew to you Nor do I love a Souldiers garb to own When my own Conscience tells me I am none Yet I 'll do duty too for I 've a mind Will not be idle but will something find To bid my SGVERAIGN Welcome to his own Long-widow'd Realm his Scepter Crown Throne And though too mean and empty it appear If he afford a well-pleas'd Eye and Ear His pow'r can't by my Weakness be withstood Bee 't what it will he 'll find or make it good Hail long-desired Soveraign you that are Now our sole joy and hope as once our fear The Princely Son of a most pious Sire Whose Precepts and Example did inspire Your tender years with virtues that become A King that 's fit to rule all Christendome Which your great Soul hath so improved since Europe can't shew such an accomplish'd Prince Whose whole life 's so exemplary that you Convinc'd those foes which we could not subdue And those that did t' your Court t' abuse you come Converted Proselytes returned home Such strong and sympathetick virtues lye In your great name it cures when you 're not nigh Like Weapon-salve If fame can reach up to This height of Cures what will your person do Your Subjects high'st Ambition and their Cure Bold Rebels terrour you that did endure What e'r the Wit or Malice of your foes Could lay on you or yours yet stoutly chose To suffer on rather than to requite Their injuries and grew Victorious by 't And by your patient suffering did subdue The Traytors fury and the Traytors too The great King makers favourite a Prince Born to a Crown and kept for 't ever since From Open force from all the Close designs Of all your Foes and all our Catilines From all th' insatiate malice of that bold Bloud-thirsty Tyrant from his sword and gold Which hurt you more and from your own false Friends Whom he still kept in pay to serve his ends Yet you 're deliver'd out of all these things By your Protector who 's the King of Kings No more that proud Usurper shall proclame Those partial Conquests which but brand his name To all posterity no more remember His thrice auspicious third day of September Since he fought not for victories but paid Nor were you conquer'd by him but betray'd And now your May by love has gotten more Than his Septembers did by bloud before Thanks to that Glory of the West that Star By whose conductive influence you are Brought to enjoy your own whose em'nent worth These Islands are to small to Eccho sorth Whose