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A19974
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A new spring of divine poetrie. I. Day. philomusus composuit - inest sua gratia parvis
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Day, James, fl. 1637.
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1637
(1637)
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STC 6410; ESTC S109421
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21,603
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56
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A NEW SPRING OF DIVINE POETRIE 1. Day philomusus composuit inest sua gratia parvis HEB DDIUV HEB DDIM Printed at London by T. C. for Humphry Blunden at his shop neere the Castle Taverne in Corne-hill 1637 T ake heede my Muse what patroniz'd by none O ben't o're bold can infants stand alone M ake haste unto some sheltring place or now I nvoke the favour of some smiling brow S tirre not abroad unlesse some gracious eye T ake pitty on thee in thy infancy R ather become a silvan Muse and then I nvolue thy selfe into some private den S uch times as these are not for vulgar notes B rought through a rusticke pipe but quainter throtes R iper inventions and the nimblest wits I ngenious faneies such these times befits D ar'st thou to stirre abroad upheld by none G oe goe and prattle at thy Helicon E ndeavour for to get Apolloes bayes T ip thou thy rusticke tongue with silver Phrase R ipen thy shallow braine then crouch and sing V nder the shaddow of some sheltring wing D raw neere but softly speake but not to loud G et some protection else I often voude E ver to keepe thee in eternall night Voâ—um Auctoris MOst mighty God thou that alone canst save And raise a stinking Laz'rus from his grave That heal'st the sick and let'st the tongue-tide speake That mak'st the weakest strong and strongest weake Into my fainting Soule doe thou infuse Thy Spirit make my tributary Muse Pay stipend at thy footestoole let her be No more Apolloes onely now for thee Ope thou her sealed lips that shee may bring Thee glory teach O teach her how to sing TO HIS FRIEND THE AVTHOVR FAine would I speake but yet my tongueti ' de muse In Rivers thirstlesse and when she hath most use Of speech is strucken dumbe shee 's plenteous poore And knew shee lesse to say shee could say more Shee doth enjoy and yet shee cannot finde Beginning too much light hath strucke her blinde I could admire thee Iames and though in truth The downy Characters of blooming youth Searce write thee man yet if we measure yeares By vertue thou a Nestor wilt appeare For when most men doe fill their greedy mawes With Comicke laughter and the sweaty plause Of vulgar palmes others write wounding lines And will accuse though they be worse the times Thou steer'st another course and spend'st thy oyle In sacred objects and in holy toyle No sinfull eloquence thy verse defames No lustfull sports nor Cupidinean flames Thy Poesye doth neither frowne nor smile There 's nor Satyricke nor Venereous stile And must these workes be hid and car'st thou lesse To give them to the mothes then to the Presse Free them from darkenesse Iames that they may be A light to others and a crowne to thee For ere they shall be long obscur'd I say Like Phosphorus I le usher in thee DAY H. G. TO HIS ESTEEMED LOVING FRIEND IAMES DAY in Commendation of his Booke THy shining workes O DAY doe seeme so bright Surely Thou 'lt have an ever lasting light If these thy radient beames breake forth so soone How glorious will thy splendor be at noone T is but thy morning yet thy Sunne displayes His beauty and sends downe his golden rayes Well DAY I le tell thee this though envy spight And Critickes snarle thou 'lt never have a night T. I. The Preface YOV wanton Lads that spend your winged time And chant your eares in reading lustfull rime Who like transform'd Acteon range about And beate the woods to finde Diana out I' st this you 'ld have then hence here 's no content For you my Muse ne're knew what Venus meant But stay I may subvert your rude conceit And every verse may proove a heavenly baite O that ye were such captives then youl l be Thrice happy such as these are onely free Leave leave your wanton toyes and let alone Apollo sporting at his Helicon Let Vulcan deale with Venus what 's to thee Although shee dandle Cupids on her knee Be not inchanted with her wanton charmes Let her not hugge thee in her whorish armes But wisely doe as Neptune did in spite Of all spue out the Lady Aphrodite Come come fond lad what would'st thou faine espye A glorious object for thy wandring eye And glut thy sight with beauty would'st behold A visage that will make thy Venus cold If this be all I le give thy eye delight Come see that face that lendes the Sunne his light Come see that face that makes the heavens to shine Come see that glorious face that lends thee thine Come and behold that face which if thou see Aright t' will make the earth a heaven to thee Come see that glistring face from which arise Such glorious beames that dazels Angels eyes What canst have more but dost thou thinke that such A comely visage will not let thee touch Or dost thou thinke a Sunne that shines so cleare Will scorne to let a lesser Orbe come neere No thou mistak'st say dost thou truely thirst For him I dare avouch hee lov'd thee first Be not dismaid It needes no more dispute Come give this glorious face a kinde salute THE WORLDES METAMORPHOSIS BEfore all time when every thing did lye Wrapt in a Chaos of deformity When all things nothing were and could present No comely frame no heaven no element No earth no water fire or ayre alone But all as t were compounded all in one Then with a word our Tri-une Iove did bring This nothing Chaos into every thing Yea then our great Iehovah did present A severall region to each element Then Time his houres began to measure out And he most nimbly garison'd about This new created Orbe he tooke his flight And hurried restlesse on both day and night His motion was so quicke that scarce t was ey'd He for ten thousand worlds won't squint aside Nor once turne backe his head by chance I viewd His flight his wings I thought were then renewd Yea his unwearied feathers did so soare Swiftly as if they never flew before As when the Thracians from their snaky bow Did make there featherd darts so swiftly goe That they out ranne all sight so time did flie As if he strove with winged Mercurie No weapon all this while for his defence He bore he dealt with none but innocence And now those foggy mists that so did lye Cloyster'd together from eternity Were all dispersd yea now t was very bright And darkenesse was unfetter'd from the light When this was done our great Iehovah lent The world as yet scarce made a firmament He separated waters wondrous well Then Seas with surging billowes ganne to swell And tossed to and fro with every wave As if the fretfull region would out brave Her owne Creator they were not content With their but now appointed regiment Their watry mountaines did so oft aspire To Heaven as if they would be placed higher But now great Iove lookt on they
anger 's banisht cleane away Sterne justice now hath not a word to say And now the Fathers anger being done Double imbraces entertaine the Sonne As when a tender mother sometime beates Her wanton boy for his unruly feates Shee wipes his blubberd face and by and by Presents a thousand gugoyes to his eye Shee angry with her selfe beginnes to seeke His former love teares trickling downe her cheeke Quickly forgetting what was done amisse Ending her anger in a lovely kisse Doubtlesse her fondling burnes the rod and then Come peace my babe kisse and be friends agen Iust so when God inflicted on his Sonne His bittrest wrath the anger being done O then how soone he doubled his renowne Adorn'd his Temple with a richer Crowne Angry with those that would not heare his moane Ready to fling grim vengeance from his throne And chide with mercy shee that once did runne To hide her selfe from this his dying Sonne And for this fact would surely overthrow The fabricke did not Iustice hold the blow Thus heaven was friends againe but sordid man Poore mortall dust whose dayes are but a span Doth strive against his God like dogges that storme And barke and brawle and fome at Phoebes horne Ah Lord why are they so extreame to thee What is the cause thou madst their blindmen see Or why didst thou their fury thus inrage Because thou didst revive their dead mens age Me thinkes t is strange good God thou shouldst enflame Their anger by restoring legges too lame How is it Lord thou sowedst glorious seedes And loe a harvest all compact of weedes Thou gavest them life and spentst thy dearest breath For them and now thou art repaid with death What griefe was ere like thine would not thy mone Quickly dissolve an adamantine stone Wold not those sighs which could not peirce their eares Have turnd a rocke into a sea of teares Would not those wrongs thou bor'st without reliefe Make every cave to echo out thy griefe For greedy Lions are more kind then men They entertaind thy limbe within their denne Forget their wonted humours and became As carefull shepherdes to thy tender Lambe The croking raven shee whose natures wilde Became a tender nurse unto thy Childe And to obey thy voice the stony rocke Became a springing fountaiue to thy flocke Yea rather then thy babes shall live in thrall The very sea it selfe provides a wall The flames forget their force through thy constraint Lose heate and know not how to burne a Saint Yea when thy souldiers wanted day to fight The Sun stood still and lent them longer light When boistrous seas did shew their lusty prancks Scorning to be imprison'd in their banckes And with their billowes vaulted up so high As if they meant to scale the starry sky And boundlesse Boreas from his frozen Cave Rusht out and proudly challeng'd every wave One nod of thine did quell those seas agen And sent proud Boreas to his sullen denne Thus thou the senselesse creatures oft did'st checke And mad'st the proudest pliant to thy becke For devils trembled and that breath of thine Made them seeke shelter in a heard of swine They knew thy greatnesse and confest thy name Hell sent forth Heraulds to divulge thy fame But man Lord what 's he made of stupid soule Is now more greedy then the raping foule Harder then flint his nature is so grimme That questionlesse the Lyon chang'd with him Hotter then flame more boystrous then the winde More fierce then waves and hels not more unkinde Yet thou O matchlesse love didst undergoe An undeserved curse to save thy foe Yea guiltlesse thou because thou would'st suffice For guilty man becom'st a Sacrifice Thou Grand Physitian for thy patients good Didst mixe thy Physicke with thy dearest blood Man from the sweetest flower did sucke his griefe But thou from venome didst extract reliefe From pleasures limbecke man distild his paine Thou out of sorrow pleasure drawd againe Sweete Eden was the garden where there grew Such sugred flowers yet there our poyson blew Sad Gethseman the arbour where was pluckt Though bitter herbes yet thence was hony suckt So have I seene the busie Bee to feed Extracting honey from the sowrest weed Whilst Spiders wandring through a pleasant bowre Sucke deadly poyson from the sweetest flower Thus thus sweete Christ thy sicknesse was our health Thy death our life thy poverty our wealth Thy griefe our mirth our freedome was thy thrall Thus thou by being conquerd conquerest all CANT 8. 7. Much water cannot quench love neither can the floods drowne it O How my heart is ravisht thoughts aspire To thinke on thee my Christ my zeales on fire What shall I doe my love me thinkes mine eyes Behold thee still yet still I Tantalize Ten thousand lets stand arm'd and all agree Conspiring how to part my love and me Presumption like Olympus scales the skye A mountaine for to part my Love and I. Despaire presents a gulfe a greedy grave Much like the jawes of the infernall Cave But what of this though hils are nere so high Whose sunne-confronting tops upbraide the skye I le trample o're and make them know t is meete Their proudest heads should stoope and kisse my feete I le stride o're cares deeper then Neptunes well Whose threatning jawes doe yawne as wide as hell Although the sea boyles in her angry tides And watry mountaines knocke at Heavens sides Though every puffe of Neptunes angry breath Should raise a wave and every wave a death I le scorne his threates should stop my course or quell My pace though every death presents a hell Yea I le adventure through those swelling stormes Whose billowes seemes to quench great Phoebes hornes Mountaines shall be as molehilles every wave Tost in the fretfull region shall outbrave No more then streames that shew their wanton pranckes Gliding along by Thames his petty banckes But grant that seas should swell and tossing tides With stormes should crush my waving vessels sides Suppose for footemen mountaines are too steepe Each hill too high and every cave too deepe Suppose all earth conspire to stop care I My faith will lend me wings and then I le flye O how I le laugh to see that mounting clay O how I le smile at that that stopt my way O how I laugh to see the Ocean straine Her banckes for to oppose and all in vaine And can you blame me when I 'me once above I le care for none for none but thou my Love Thou art my path I shall not goe awry My sight shall never faile thou art my eye Thou art my clothing I shan't naked be I am no bondman thou hast made me free I am not pin'd with sickenesse thou art health I am no whit impoverisht thou art wealth Mans naturall infirmity VVHat meanes my God why dost present to me Such glorious objects can a blind man see Why dost thou call why dost thou becken so Wouldst have me come Lord can a Cripple go Or why