Selected quad for the lemma: book_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A00977
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The purple island, or, The isle of man together with Piscatorie eclogs and other poeticall miscellanies / by P.F.
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Fletcher, Phineas, 1582-1650.
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1633
(1633)
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STC 11082.5; ESTC S5142
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154,399
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335
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gold in deepest centre dwells So sweetest violets trail on lowly ground So richest pearls ly clos'd in vilest shells So lowest dales we let at highest rates So creeping strawberries yeeld daintiest cates The Highest highly loves the low the loftie hates 17 Upon his shield was drawn that Shepherd lad Who with a sling threw down faint Israels fears And in his hand his spoils and trophies glad The Monsters sword and head he bravely bears Plain in his lovely face you might behold A blushing meeknesse met with courage bold Little not little worth was fairly wrote in gold 18 With him his kinsman both in birth and name Obedience taught by many bitter showers In humble bonds his passions proud to tame And low submit unto the higher powers But yet no servile yoke his forehead brands For ti'd in such an holy service bands In this obedience rules and serving thus commands 19 By them went Fido Marshal of the field Weak was his mother when she gave him day And he at first a sick and weakly childe As e're with tears welcom'd the sunnie ray Yet when more yeares afford more growth might A champion stout he was and puissant Knight As ever came in field or shone in armour bright 20 So may we see a little lionet When newly whelpt a weak and tender thing Despis'd by every beast but waxen great When fuller times full strength and courage bring The beasts all crouching low their King adore And dare not see what they contemn'd before The trembling forrest quakes at his affrighting roar 21 Mountains he flings in seas with mighty hand Stops and turns back the Sunnes impetuous course Nature breaks natures laws at his command No force of hell or heav'n withstands his force Events to come yet many ages hence He present makes by wondrous prescience Proving the senses blinde by being blinde to sense 22 His sky-like arms di'd all in blue and white And set with golden starres that flamed wide His shield invisible to mortall sight Yet he upon it easily descri'd The lively semblance of his dying Lord Whose bleeding side with wicked steel was gor'd Which to his fainting spirits new courage would afford 23 Strange was the force of that enchanted shield Which highest powers to it from heav'n impart For who could bear it well and rightly wield It sav'd from sword and spear and poison'd dart Well might he slip but yet not wholly fall No finall losse his courage might appall Growing more sound by wounds and rising by his fall 24 So some have feign'd that Tellus giant sonne Drew many new-born lives from his dead mother Another rose as soon as one was done And twentie lost yet still remain'd another For when he fell and kist the barren heath His parent straight inspir'd successive breath And though her self was dead yet ransom'd him from death 25 With him his Nurse went carefull Acoe Whose hands first from his mothers wombe did take him And ever since have foster'd tenderly She never might she never would forsake him And he her lov'd again with mutuall band For by her needfull help he oft did stand When else he soon would fail and fall in foemens hand 26 With both sweet Meditation ever pac't His Nurses daughter and his Foster-sister Deare as his soul he in his soul her plac't And oft embrac't and oft by stealth he kist her For she had taught him by her silent talk To tread the safe and dangerous wayes to balk And brought his God with him him with his God to walk 27 Behinde him Penitence did sadly go Whose cloudie dropping eyes were ever raining Her swelling tears which ev'n in ebbing flow Furrow her cheek the sinfull puddles draining Much seem'd she in her pensive thought molested And much the mocking world her soul infested More she the hatefull world and most her self detested 28 She was the object of lewd mens disgrace The squint-ey'd wrie-mouth'd scoffe of carnall hearts Yet smiling heav'n delights to kisse her face And with his bloud God bathes her painfull smarts Afflictions iron flail her soul had thrasht Sharp Circumcisions knife her heart had slasht Yet was it angels wine which in her eyes was masht 29 With her a troop of mournfull grooms abiding Help with their sullen blacks their Mistresse wo Amendment still but still his own faults chiding And Penance arm'd with smarting whips did go Then sad Remorse came sighing all the way Last Satisfaction giving all away Much surely did he owe much more he would repay 30 Next went Elpinus clad in skie-like blue And through his arms few starres did seem to peep Which there the workmans hand so finely drew That rockt in clouds they softly seem'd to sleep His rugged shield was like a rockie mold On which an anchour bit with surest hold I hold by being held was written round in gold 31 Nothing so cheerfull was his thoughtfull face As was his brother Fido's Fear seem'd dwell Close by his heart his colour chang'd apace And went and came that sure all was not well Therefore a comely Maid did oft sustain His fainting steps and fleeting life maintain Pollicita she hight which ne're could lie or feigne 32 Next to Elpinus marcht his brother Love Not that great Love which cloth'd his Godhead bright With rags of flesh and now again above Hath drest his flesh in heav'ns eternall light Much lesse the brat of that false Cyprian dame Begot by froth and fire in bed of shame And now burns idle hearts swelt'ring in lustfull flame 33 But this from heav'n brings his immortall race And nurst by Gratitude whose carefull arms Long held and hold him still in kinde embrace But train'd to daily warres and fierce alarms He grew to wondrous strength and beautie rare Next that God-Love from whom his off-springs are No match in earth or heav'n may with this Love compare 34 His Page who from his side might never move Remembrance on him waits in books reciting The famous passions of that highest Love His burning zeal to greater flames exciting Deep would he sigh and seem empassion'd sore And oft with tears his backward heart deplore That loving all he could he lov'd that Love no more 35 Yet sure he truely lov'd and honour'd deare That glorious name for when or where he spi'd Wrong'd or in hellish speech blasphem'd did heare Boldly the rash blasphemer he defi'd And forc't him eat the words he foully spake But if for him he grief or death did take That grief he counted joy and death life for his sake 36 His glitt'ring arms drest all with firie hearts Seem'd burn in chaste desire and heav'nly flame And on his shield kinde Ionathan imparts To his souls friend his robes and princely name And kingly throne which mortals so adore And round about was writ in golden ore Well might he give him all that gave his life before 37 These led the Vantguard and an hundred moe Fill'd up the emptie ranks with ord'red train But
constant ever And men though ever firm are constant never For men that to one fair their passions binde Must ever change as do those changing fairs So as she alters alters still their minde And with their fading Loves their love impairs Therefore still moving as the fair they loved Most do they move by being most unmoved But women when their lovers change their graces What first in them they lov'd love now in others Affecting still the same in divers places So never change their love but change their lovers Therefore their minde is firm and constant prov'd Seeing they ever love what first they lov'd Their love ty'd to some vertue cannot stray Shifting the outside oft the inside never But men when now their Loves dissolv'd to clay Indeed are nothing still in love persever How then can such fond men be constant made That nothing love or but a nothing shade What fool commends a stone for never moving Or blames the speedie heav'ns for ever ranging Cease then fond men to blaze your constant loving Love's firie winged light and therefore changing Fond man that thinks such fire and aire to fetter All change men for the worse women for better To my onely chosen Valentine and wife Anagram MAYSTRESS ELISABETH VINCENT IS MY BRESTS CHASTE VALENTINE THink not fair love that Chance my hand directed To make my choice my chance blinde Chance hands Could never see what most my minde affected But heav'n that ever with chaste true love stands Lent eyes to see what most my heart respected Then do not thou resist what heav'n commands But yeeld thee his who must be ever thine My heart thy altar is my breast thy shrine Thy name for ever is My brests chaste Valentine A translation of Boëthius the third book and last verse HAppie man whose perfect sight Views the over-flowing light Happie man that canst unbinde Th' earth-barres pounding up the minde Once his wives quick fate lamenting Orpheus sat his hair all renting While the speedie woods came running And rivers stood to heare his cunning And the lion with the hart Joyn'd side to side to heare his art Hares ran with the dogs along Not from dogs but to his song But when all his verses turning Onely fann'd his poore hearts burning And his grief came but the faster His verse all easing but his master Of the higher powers complaining Down he went to hell disdaining There his silver lute-strings hitting And his potent verses fitting All the sweets that e're he took From his sacred mothers brook What his double sorrow gives him And love that doubly-double grieves him There he spends to move deaf hell Charming divels with his spell And with sweetest asking leave Does the lords of ghosts deceive The dog whose never quiet yell Affrights sad souls in night that dwell Pricks up now his thrice two eares To howl or bark or whine he fears Struck with dumbe wonder at those songs He wisht more eares and fewer tongues Charon amaz'd his oare foreslowes While the boat the sculler rowes Tantal might have eaten now The fruit as still as is the bough But he fool no hunger fearing Starv'd his taste to feed his hearing Ixion though his wheel stood still Still was rapt with musicks skill At length the Judge of souls with pitie Yeelds as conquer'd with his dittie Let 's give back his spouses herse Purchas'd with so pleasing verse Yet this law shall binde our gift He turn not till ha's Tartar left Who to laws can lovers draw Love in love is onely law Now almost he left the night When he first turn'd back his sight And at once while her he ey'd His Love he saw and lost and dy'd So who strives out of the night To bring his soul to joy in light Yet again turns back his eye To view left hells deformitie Though he seems enlightned more Yet is blacker then afore A translation of Boëthius book 2 verse 7. WHo onely honour seeks with prone affection And thinks that glory is his greatest blisse First let him view the heav'ns wide-stretched section Then in some mappe the earths short narrownesse Well may he blush to see his name not able To fill one quarter of so brief a table Why then should high-grow'n mindes so much rejoyce To draw their stubborn necks from mans subjection For though loud fame stretch high her pratling voice To blaze abroad their vertues great pefection Though goodly titles of their house adorn them With ancient Heraldrie yet death doth scorn them The high and base lie in the self same grave No difference there between a King and slave Where now are true Fabricius bones remaining Who knowes where Brutus or rough Cato lives Onely a weak report their names sustaining In records old a slender knowledge gives Yet when we reade the deeds of men inhumed Can we by that know them long since consumed Now therefore lie you buried and forgotten Nor can report frustrate encroaching death Or if you think when you are dead and rotten You live again by fame and vulgar breath When with times shadows this false glory wanes You die again but this your glorie gains Upon my brother Mr G. F. his book entituled Christs Victorie and Triumph FOnd lads that spend so fast your posting time Too posting time that spends your time as fast To chant light toyes or frame some wanton rhyme Where idle boyes may glut their lustfull taste Or else with praise to clothe some fleshly slime With virgin roses and fair lilies chaste While itching blouds and youthfull eares adore it But wiser men and once your selves will most abhorre it But thou most neare most deare in this of thine Hast prov'd the Muses not to Venus bound Such as thy matter such thy Muse divine Or thou such grace with Mercie 's self hast found That she her self deignes in thy leaves to shine Or stoll'n from heav'n thou brought'st this verse to ground Which frights the nummed soul with fearfull thunder And soon with honeyed dews thawes it'twixt joy and wonder Then do not thou malicious tongues esteem The glasse through which an envious eye doth gaze Can eas'ly make a mole-hill mountain seem His praise dispraises his dispraises praise Enough if best men best thy labours deem And to the highest pitch thy merit raise While all the Muses to thy song decree Victorious Triumph Triumphant Victorie Upon the B. of Exon. Doct. Hall his Meditations MOst wretched soul that here carowsing pleasure Hath all his heav'n on earth and ne're distressed Enjoyes these fond delights without all measure And freely living thus is thus deceased Ah greatest curse so to be ever blessed For where to live is heav'n 't is hell to die Ah wretch that here begins hells miserie Most bessed soul that lifted up with wings Of faith and love leaves this base habitation And scorning sluggish earth to heav'n up springs On earth yet still in heav'n by meditation With the souls eye foreseeing th' heav'nly station Then