his sleep Though th' hast a wife fir young and fair An heritage heirs to advance Yet canst thou not command an heir For heirs are Gods inheritance He gives the seed the bud the bloom He gives the harvest to the wombe And look as arrows by strong arm In a strong bow drawn to the head Where they are meant will surely harm And if they hit wound deep and dead Children of youth are even so As harmfull deadly to a foe That man shall live in blisse and peace Who fills his quiver with such shot Whose garners swell with such increase Terrour and shame assail him not And though his foes deep hatred bear Thus arm'd he shall not need to fear PSAL. 137. To be sung as See the building WHere Perah's flowers Perfume proud Babels bowers And paint her wall There we laid asteeping Our eyes in endlesse weeping For Sions fall Our feasts and songs we laid aside On forlorn willows By Perah's billows We hung our harps and mirth and joy defi'd That Sions ruines should build foul Babels pride Our conqu'rours vaunting With bitter scoffes and taunting Thus proudly jest Take down your harps and string them Recall your songs sing them For Sions feast Were our harps well tun'd in every string Our heart-strings broken Throats drown'd and soken With tears and sighs how can we praise and sing The King of heav'n under an heathen king In all my mourning Ierusalem thy burning If I forget Forget thy running My hand and all thy cunning To th' harp to set Let thy mouth my tongue be still thy grave Lie there asleeping For Sion weeping Oh let mine eyes in tears thy office have Nor rise nor set but in their brinie wave Proud Edoms raging Their hate with bloud asswaging And vengefull sword Their cursed joying In Sions walls destroying Remember Lord Forget not Lord their spightfull cry Fire and deface it Destroy and raze it Oh let the name of Sion ever die Thus did they roare and us and thee defie So shall thy towers And all thy princely bowers Proud Babel fall Him ever blessed Who th' oppressour hath oppressed Shall all men call Thrice blest that turns thy mirth to grones That burns to ashes Thy towers and dashes Thy brats 'gainst rocks to wash thy bloudie stones With thine own bloud and pave thee with thy bones PSAL. I. BLessed who walk'st not in the worldlings way Blessed who with foul sinners wilt not stand Blessed who with proud mockers dar'st not stay Nor sit thee down amongst that scornfull band Thrice blessed man who in that heav'nly light Walk'st stand'st and sitt'st rejoycing day and night Look as a thirstie Palm full Iordan drinks Whose leaf and fruit still live when winter dies With conqu'ring branches crowns the rivers brinks And summers fires and winters frosts defies All so the soul whom that clear light revives Still springs buds grows and dying time survives But as the dust of chaffe cast in the aire Sinks in the dirt and turns to dung and mire So sinners driv'n to hell by fierce despair Shall frie in ice and freez in hellish fire For he whose flaming eyes all actions turn Sees both to light the one the other burn PSAL. 130. FRom the deeps of grief and fear O Lord to thee my soul repairs From thy heav'n bow down thine eare Let thy mercie meet my prayers Oh if thou mark'st what 's done amisse What soul so pure can see thy blisse But with thee sweet mercie stands Sealing pardons working fear Wait my soul wait on his hands Wait mine eye oh wait mine eare If he his eye or tongue affords Watch all his looks catch all his words As a watchman waits for day And looks for light and looks again When the night grows old and gray To be reliev'd he calls amain So look so wait so long mine eyes To see my Lord my Sunne arise Wait ye saints wait on our Lord For from his tongue sweet mercie flows Wait on his crosse wait on his word Upon that tree redemption grows He will redeem his Israel From sinne and wrath from death and hell AN HYMNE WAke O my soul awake and raise Up every part to sing his praise Who from his spheare of glorie fell To raise thee up from death and hell See how his soul vext for thy sinne Weeps bloud without feels hell within See where he hangs heark how he cries Oh bitter pangs Now now he dies Wake O mine eyes awake and view Those two twin-lights whence heavens drew Their glorious beams whose gracious sight Fills you with joy with life and light See how with clouds of sorrow drown'd They wash with tears thy sinfull wound See how with streams of spit th' are drencht See how their beams with death are quencht Wake O mine eare awake and heare That powerfull voice which stills thy fear And brings from heav'n those joyfull news Which heav'n commands which hell subdues Heark how his eares heav'ns mercie-seat Foul slanders with reproaches beat Heark how the knocks our ears resound Heark how their mocks his hearing wound Wake O my heart tune every string Wake O my tongue awake and sing Think not a thought in all thy layes Speak not a word but of his praise Tell how his sweetest tongue they drownd With gall think how his heart they wound That bloudie spout gagg'd for thy sinne His life lets out thy death lets in AN HYMNE DRop drop slow tears and bathe those beauteous feet Which brought from heav'n the news and Prince of peace Cease not wet eyes his mercies to intreat To crie for vengeance sinne doth never cease In your deep flouds drown all my faults and fears Nor let his eye see sinne but through my tears On my friends picture who died in travel THough now to heav'n thy travels are confin'd Thy wealth friends life and countrey all are lost Yet in this picture we thee living finde And thou with lesser travel lesser cost Hast found new life friends wealth and better coast So by thy death thou liv'st by losse thou gain'st And in thy absence present still remain'st Upon Doctor Playser WHo lives with death by death in death is lying But he who living dies best lives by dying Who life to truth who death to errour gives In life may die by death more surely lives My soul in heaven breathes in schools my fame Then on my tombe write nothing but my name Upon my brothers book called The grounds labour and reward of faith THis lamp fill'd up and fir'd by that blest Spirit Spent his last oyl in this pure heav'nly flame Laying the grounds walls roof of faith this frame With life he ends and now doth there inherit What here he built crown'd with his laurel merit Whose palms and triumphs once he loudly rang There now enjoyes what here he sweetly sang This is his monument on which he drew His spirits image that can never die But breathes in these ' live words and speaks to th' eye In these
THE PURPLE ISLAND OR THE ISLE OF MAN TOGETHER WITH PISCATORIE ECLOGS AND OTHER POETICALL MISCELLANIES By P. F. ¶ Printed by the Printers to the Universitie of CAMBRIDGE 1633. TO MY MOST WORTHY AND LEARNED FRIEND EDWARD BENLOWES ESQVIRE SIR AS some Optick-glasses if we look one way increase the object if the other lessen the quantity Such is an Eye that looks through Affection It doubles any good and extenuates what is amisse Pardon me Sir for speaking plain truth such is that eye whereby you have viewed these raw Essayes of my very unripe yeares and almost childehood How unseasonable are Blossomes in Autumne unlesse perhaps in this age where are more flowers then fruit I am entring upon my Winter and yet these Blooms of my first Spring must now shew themselves to our ripe wits which certainly will give them no other entertainment but derision For my self I cannot account that worthy of your Patronage which comes forth so short of my Desires thereby meriting no other light then the fire But since you please to have them see more Day then their credit can well endure marvel not if they flie under your Shadow to cover them from the piercing eye of this very curious yet more censorious age In letting them abroad I desire onely to testifie how much I preferre your desires before mine own and how much I owe to You more then any other This if they witnesse for me it is all their service I require Sir I leave them to your tuition and entreat you to love him who will contend with you in nothing but to out-love you and would be known to the world by no other Name then Your true friend P. F. Hilgay May 1. 1633. To the Readers HE that would learn Theologie must first studie Autologie The way to God is by our selves It is a blinde and dirty way it hath many windings and is easie to be lost This Poem will make thee understand that way and therefore my desire is that thou maist understand this Poem Peruse it as thou shouldst thy self from thy first sheet to thy last The first view perchance may runne thy judgement in debt the second will promise payment and the third will perform promise Thou shalt finde here Philosophie and Moralitie two curious handmaids dressing the Kings daughter whose garments smell of Myrrhe and Cassia and being wrought with needlework and gold shall make thee take pleasure in her beautie Here are no blocks for the purblinde no snares for the timerous no dangers for the bold I invite all sorts to be readers all readers to be understanders all understanders to be happie DANIEL FEATLY D. D. ON THE EXCELLENT MORALL POEM ENTITULED THE ISLE OF MAN LOrd how my youth with this vain world hath err'd Applauding theirs as th' onely happy fate Whom to some Empire bloud choice chance preferr'd Or who of learned arts could wisely prate Or travelling the world had well conferr'd Mens natures with the mysteries of state But now thy wiser Muse hath taught me this That these and most men else do aim at blisse But these and most men else do take their aim amisse Reigne o're the world not o're this Isle of Man Worse then a slave thou thine own slaves obey'st Study all arts devis'd since time began And not thy self thou studiest not but play'st Out-travell wise Ulysses if you can Yet misse this Isle thou travell'st not but stray'st Let me O Lord but reigne o're mine own heart And master be of this self-knowing art I 'le dwell in th' Isle of Man ne're travell forrain part E. BENLOVVES E. BENEVOLUS INgeniose tuo ne libro supprime nomen Ingenio Authorem deteget ille suo Nempe verecundo memini te scribere vati Quod pulchrè ingenio quadrat amice tuo QVid tuas retegis nimis tegendo Noctiluca faces pates latendo Ipsa es sphaera tuae comésque stellae Diem si repetas die latebis Non te nox tenebris tegit fovendo Sed te nox tenebris fovendo prodit TO THE LEARNED AUTHOUR SONNE AND BROTHER TO two judicious Poets himself the third not second to either GRave Father of this Muse thou deem'st too light To wear thy name 'cause of thy youthfull brain It seems a sportfull childe resembling right Thy wittie childehood not thy graver strain Which now esteems these works of fancie vain Let not thy childe thee living orphan be Who when th' art dead will give a life to thee How many barren wits would gladly own How few o' th' pregnantest own such another Thou Father art yet blushest to be known And though 't may call the best of Muses Mother Yet thy severer judgement would it smother O judge not Thou let Readers judge thy book Such Cates should rather please the Guest then Cook O but thou fear'st't will stain the reverend gown Thou wearest now nay then fear not to show it For were 't a stain 't were natures not thine own For thou art Poet born who know thee know it Thy brother sire thy very name 's a Poet. Thy very name will make these Poëms take These very Poëms else thy name will make W. BENLOWES TO THE INGENIOUS COMPOSER OF THIS PASTORALL THE SPENCER of this age I Vow sweet stranger if my lazie quill Had not been disobedient to fulfill My quick desires this glory which is thine Had but the Muses pleased had been mine My Genius jumpt with thine the very same Was our Foundation in the very Frame Thy Genius jumpt with mine it got the start In nothing but Prioritie and Art If my ingenious Rivall these dull times Should want the present strength to prize thy rhymes The time-instructed children of the next Shall fill thy margent and admire the text Whos 's well read lines will teach them how to be The happie knowers of themselves and thee FRAN. QUARLES TO THE UNKNOWN Mr P. F. UPON SURVAY of his ISLE OF MAN REnowned Authour let it not seem strange A Merchants eye Should thus thy Island range It is a Merchants progresse to surround The earth and seek out undiscover'd ground What though my foot hath trod the fourefold shore And eyes survaid their subdivided store Yet rarer wonders in this Isle of thine I view'd this day then in twice six yeares time Iustly didst thou great Macedo repine That thou could'st adde no other world to thine He is not truely great nor stout who can Curb the great world and not the lesser Man And thou whose name the Western world impos'd Vpon it self first by thy skill disclos'd Yet is thy skill by this farre overcome Who hath descri'd an unknown World at home A World which to search out subdue and till Is the best object of mans wit strength skill A World where all may dangerlesse obtain Without long travell cheapest greatest gain LOD. ROBERTS ON THE MOST ACCURATE POEM INSCRIBED THE PVRPLE ISLAND HEnceforth let wandring Delos cease to boast Herself the God of Learnings dearest
infinite encamped lie Th' enraged Dragon and his Serpents bold And knowing well his time grows short and nigh He swells with venom'd gore and poys'nous heat His tail unfolded heav'n it self doth beat And sweeps the mighty starres from their transcendent seat 14 With him goes Caro cursed damme of sinne Foul filthie damme of fouler progenie Yet seems skin-deep most fair by witching gin To weaker sight but to a purged eye Looks like nay worse then hells infernall hagges Her empty breasts hang like lank hollow bagges And Iris ulcer'd skin is patcht with leprous ragges 15 Therefore her loathsome shape in steel arayd All rust within the outside polisht bright And on her shield a Mermaid sung and playd Whose humane beauties ' lure the wandring sight But slimy scales hid in their waters lie She chants she smiles so draws the eare the eye And whom she winnes she kills the word Heare gaze die 16 And after march her fruitfull serpent frie Whom she of divers lechers divers bore Marshall'd in severall ranks their colours flie Foure to Anagnus foure this painted whore To loathsome Asebie brought forth to light Twice foure got Adisus a hatefull wight But swoln Acrates two born in one bed and night 17 Moechus the first of blushlesse bold aspect Yet with him Doubt and Fear still trembling go Oft lookt he back as if he did suspect Th' approach of some unwisht unwelcome foe Behinde fell Jealousie his steps observ'd And sure Revenge with dart that never swerv'd Ten thousand griefs and plagues he felt but more deserv'd 18 His armour black as hell or starlesse night And in his shield he lively pourtray'd bare Mars fast impound in arms of Venus light And ti'd as fast in Vulcans subtil snare She feign'd to blush for shame now all too late But his red colour seem'd to sparkle hate Sweet are stoln waters round about the marge he wrate 19 Porneius next him pac't a meager wight Whose leaden eyes sunk deep in swimming head And joylesse look like some pale ashie spright Seem'd as he now were dying or now dead And with him Wastefulnesse that all expended And Want that still in theft and prison ended A hundred foul diseases close at 's back attended 20 His shining helm might seem a sparkling flame Yet sooth nought was it but a foolish fire And all his arms were of that burning frame That flesh and bones were gnawn with hot desire About his wrist his blazing shield did frie With sweltring hearts in flame of luxurie His word In fire I live in fire I burn and die 21 With him Acatharus in Tuscan guise A thing that neither man will owne nor beast Upon a boy he lean'd in wanton wise On whose fair limbes his eyes still greedie feast He sports he toyes kisses his shining face Behinde reproach and thousand devils pace Before bold Impudence that cannot change her grace 22 His armour seem'd to laugh with idle boyes Which all about their wanton sportings playd Al 's would himself help out their childish toyes And like a boy lend them unmanly aid In his broad targe the bird her wings dispread Which trussing wafts the Trojan Ganymed And round was writ Like with his like is coupeled 23 Aselges follow'd next the boldest boy That ever play'd in Venus wanton court He little cares who notes his lavish joy Broad were his jests wilde his uncivil sport His fashion too too fond and loosly light A long love-lock on his left shoulder plight Like to a womans hair well shew'd a womans sprite 24 Lust in strange nests this Cuckoe egge conceiv'd Which nurst with surfets drest with fond disguises In fancies school his breeding first receiv'd So this brave spark to wilder flame arises And now to court preferr'd high blouds he fires There blows up pride vain mirths and loose desires And heav'nly souls oh grief with hellish flame inspires 25 There oft to rivalls lends the gentle Dor Oft takes his mistresse by the bitter Bob There learns her each daies change of Gules Verd Or His sampler if she pouts her slave must sob Her face his sphere her hair his circling skie Her love his heav'n her sight eternitie Of her he dreams with her he lives for her he 'l die 26 Upon his arm a tinsell scarf he wore Forsooth his Madams favour spangled fair Light as himself a fanne his helmet bore With ribbons drest begg'd from his Mistresse hair On 's shield a winged boy all naked shin'd His folded eyes willing and wilfull blinde The word was wrought with gold Such is a lovers minde 27 These foure Anagnus and foul Caro's sonnes Who led a diff'rent and disorder'd rout Fancie a lad that all in feathers wons And loose desire and danger linkt with doubt And thousand wanton thoughts still budding new But lazie ease usher'd the idle crue And lame disease shuts up their troops with torments due 28 Next band by Asebie was boldly led And his foure sonnes begot in Stygian night First Idololatros whose monstrous head Was like an ugly fiend his flaming sight Like blazing starres the rest all different For to his shape some part each creature lent But to the great Creatour all adversly bent 29 Upon his breast a bloudie Crosse he scor'd Which oft he worshipt but the Christ that di'd Thereon he seldome but in paint ador'd Yet wood stone beasts wealth lusts fiends deifi'd He makes meer pageants of the saving Rock Puppet-like trimming his Almightie stock Which then his god or he which is the verier block 30 Of Giant shape and strength thereto agreeing Wherewith he whilome all the world opprest And yet the greater part his vassals being Slumbring in ignorance securely rest A golden calf himself more beast he bore Which brutes with dancings gifts and songs adore Idols are lay-mens books he round had wrote in Ore 31 Next Pharmacus of gashly wilde aspect Whom hell with seeming fear and fiends obey Full eas'ly would he know each past effect And things to come with double guesse foresay By slain beasts entrails and fowls marked flight Thereto he tempests rais'd by many a spright And charm'd the Sunne and Moon chang'd the day and night 32 So when the South dipping his fablest wings In humid Ocean sweeps with 's dropping beard Th' aire earth and seas his lips loud thunderings And flashing eyes make all the world afeard Light with dark clouds waters with fires are met The Sunne but now is rising now is set And findes west-shades in East and seas in ayers wet 33 By birth and hand he jugling fortunes tells Oft brings from shades his grandsires damned ghost Oft stoln goods forces out by wicked spells His frightfull shield with thousand fiends embost Which seem'd without a circles ring to play In midst himself dampens the smiling day And prints sad characters which none may write or say 34 The third Haereticus a wrangling carle Who in the way to heav'n would
then the goodliest swain With her a troop of fairest wood-nymphs trains Yet the more fair then fairest of the train And all in course their voice attempering While the woods back their bounding Echo fling Hymen come holy Hymen Hymen lowd they sing His high-built forehead almost maiden fair Hath made an hundred Nymphs her chance envying Her more then silver skin and golden hair Cause of a thousand shepherds forced dying Where better could her love then here have nested Or he his thoughts more daintily have feasted Hymen come Hymen here thy saffron coat is rested His looks resembling humble Majesty Rightly his fairest mothers grace besitteth In her face blushing fearfull modesty The Queens of chastity and beauty sitteth There cheerfulnesse all sadnesse farre exileth Here love with bow unbent all gently smileth Hymen come Hymen come no spot thy garment ' fileth Love's bow in his bent eye-brows bended lies And in his eyes a thousand darts of loving Her shining starres which fools we oft call eyes As quick as heav'n it self in speedy moving And this in both the onely difference being Other starres blinde these starres indu'd with seeing Hymen come Hymen all is for thy rites agreeing His breast a shelf of purest alabaster Where Love's self sailing often shipwrackt sitteth Hers a twin-rock unknown but to th'ship-master Which though him safe receives all other splitteth Both Love's high-way yet by Love's self unbeaten Most like the milky path which crosses heaven Hymen come Hymen all their marriage joyes are even And yet all these but as gilt covers be Within a book more fair we written finde For Nature framing th' All 's epitome Set in the face the Index of the minde Their bodies are but Temples built for state To shrine the Graces in their silver plate Come Hymen Hymen come these Temples consecrate Hymen the tier of hearts already tied Hymen the end of lovers never ending Hymen the cause of joyes joyes never tried Joyes never to be spent yet ever spending Hymen that sow'st with men the desert sands Come bring with thee come bring thy sacred bands Hymen come Hymen th' hearts are joyn'd joyn thou the hands Warrant of lovers the true seal of loving Sign'd with the face of joy the holy knot That bindes two hearts and holds from slippery moving A gainfull losse a stain without a blot That mak'st one soul as two and two as one Yoke lightning burdens love's foundation Hymen come Hymen now untie the maiden zone Thou that mad'st Man a brief of all thou mad'st A little living world and mad'st him twain Dividing him whom first thou one creat'st And by this bond mad'st one of two again Bidding her cleave to him and him to her And leave their parents when no parents were Hymen send Hymen from thy sacred bosome here See where he goes how all the troop he cheereth Clad with a saffron coat in 's hand a light In all his brow not one sad cloud appeareth His coat all pure his torch all burning bright Now chant we Hymen shepherds Hymen sing See where he goes as fresh as is the Spring Hymen oh Hymen Hymen all the valleys ring Oh happy pair where nothing wants to either Both having to content and be contented Fortune and nature being spare to neither Ne're may this bond of holy love be rented But like two parallels run a level race In just proportion and in even space Hymen thus Hymen will their spotlesse marriage grace Live each of other firmly lov'd and loving As farre from hate as self-ill jealousie Moving like heav'n still in the self same moving In motion ne're forgetting constancy Be all your dayes as this no cause to plain Free from satiety or but lovers pain Hymen so Hymen still their present joyes maintain To my beloved Cousin W. R. Esquire Calend. Ianuar. COusin day-birds are silenc't and those fowl Yet onely sing which hate warm Phoebus light Th' unlucky * Parra and death-boding Owl Which ush'ring in to heav'n their mistresse Night Hollow their mates triumphing o're the quick-spent light The wronged Philomel hath left to plain Tereus constraint and cruel ravishment Seems the poore bird hath lost her tongue again Progne long since is gone to banishment And the loud-tuned Thrush leaves all her merriment All so my frozen Muse hid in my breast To come into the open aire refuses And dragg'd at length from hence doth oft protest This is no time for Phoebus-loving Muses When the farre-distant sunne our frozen coast disuses Then till the sunne which yet in fishes hasks Or watry urn impounds his fainting head 'Twixt Taurus horns his warmer beam unmasks And sooner rises later goes to bed Calling back all the flowers now to their mother fled Till Philomel resumes her tongue again And Progne fierce returns from long exiling Till the shrill Blackbird chants his merry vein And the day-birds the long-liv'd sunne beguiling Renew their mirth and the yeares pleasant smiling Here must I stay in sullen study pent Among our Cambridge fennes my time misspending But then revisit our long-long'd-for Kent Till then live happy the time ever mending Happy the first o' th' yeare thrice happy be the ending To Master W. C. WIlly my deare that late by Haddam sitting By little Haddam in those private shades Unto thy fancie thousand pleasures fitting With dainty Nymphs in those retired glades Didst spend thy time time that too quickly fades Ah! much I fear that those so pleasing toyes Have too much lull'd thy sense and minde in slumbring joyes Now art thou come to nearer Maddingly Which with fresh sport and pleasure doth enthrall thee There new delights withdraw thy eare thy eye Too much I fear left some ill chance befall thee Heark how the Cambridge Muses thence recall thee Willy our deare Willy his time abuses But sure thou hast forgot our Chame and Cambridge Muses Return now Willy now at length return thee Here thou and I under the sprouting vine By yellow Chame where no hot ray shall burn thee Will fit and sing among the Muses nine And safely cover'd from the scalding shine We 'l read that Mantuan shepherds sweet complaining Whom fair Alexis griev'd with his unjust disdaining And when we list to lower notes descend Heare Thirsil's moan and Fusca's crueltie He cares not now his ragged flock to tend Fusca his care but carelesse enemie Hope oft he sees shine in her humble eye But soon her angrie words of hope deprives him So often dies with love but love as oft revives him To my ever honoured Cousin W. R. Esquire STrange power of home with how strong-twisted arms And Gordian-twined knot dost thou enchain me Never might fair Calisto's doubled charms Nor powerfull Circe's whispring so detain me Though all her art she spent to entertain me Their presence could not force a weak desire But oh thy powerfull absence breeds still-growing fire By night thou try'st with strong imagination To force my sense 'gainst reason to belie it Me thinks I see the
greedie minde The sad Hungarian fears his tried might And waning Persia trembles at his sight His greener youth most with the heathen spent Gives Christian Princes justest cause to fear His riper age whose childhood thus is bent A thousand trophies will he shortly rear Unlesse that God who gave him first this rage Binde his proud head in humble vassalage To Mr. Jo. Tomkins THomalin my lief thy musick strains to heare More raps my soul then when the swelling windes On craggie rocks their whistling voices tear Or when the sea if stopt his course he findes With broken murmures thinks weak shores to fear Scorning such sandie cords his proud head bindes More then where rivers in the summers ray Through covert glades cutting their shadie way Run tumbling down the lawns with the pebles play Thy strains to heare old Chamus from his cell Comes guarded with an hundred Nymphs around An hundred Nymphs that in his rivers dwell About him flock with water-lilies crown'd For thee the Muses leave their silver well And marvel where thou all their art hast found There sitting they admire thy dainty strains And while thy sadder accent sweetly plains Feel thousand sugred joyes creep in their melting veins How oft have I the Muses bower frequenting Miss'd them at home and found them all with thee Whether thou sing'st sad Eupathus lamenting Or tunest notes to sacred harmonie The ravisht soul with thy sweet songs consenting Scorning the earth in heav'nly extasie Transcends the starres and with the angels train Those courts survaies and now come back again Findes yet another heav'n in thy delightfull strain Ah! could'st thou here thy humble minde content Lowly with me to live in countrey cell And learn suspect the courts proud blandishment Here might we safe here might we sweetly dwell Live Pallas in her towers and marble tent But ah the countrey bowers please me as well There with my Thomalin I safe would sing And frame sweet ditties to thy sweeter string There would we laugh at spite and fortunes thundering No flattery hate or envy lodgeth there There no suspicion wall'd in proved steel Yet fearfull of the arms her self doth wear Pride is not there no tyrant there we feel No clamorous laws shall deaf thy musick eare They know no change nor wanton fortunes wheel Thousand fresh sports grow in those daintie places Light Fawns Nymphs dance in the woodie spaces And little Love himself plaies with the naked Graces But seeing fate my happie wish refuses Let me alone enjoy my low estate Of all the gifts that fair Parnassus uses Onely scorn'd povertie and fortunes hate Common I finde to me and to the Muses But with the Muses welcome poorest fate Safe in my humble cottage will I rest And lifting up from my untainted breast A quiet spirit to heav'n securely live and blest To thee I here bequeath the courtly joyes Seeing to court my Thomalin is bent Take from thy Thirsil these his idle toyes Here I will end my looser merriment And when thou sing'st them to the wanton boyes Among the courtly lasses blandishment Think of thy Thirsil's love that never spends And softly say his love still better mends Ah too unlike the love of court or courtly friends Go little pipe for ever I must leave thee My little little pipe but sweetest ever Go go for I have vow'd to see thee never Never ah never must I more receive thee But he in better love will still persever Go little pipe for I must have a new Farewell ye Norfolk maids and Ida crue Thirsil will play no more for ever now adieu To Thomalin THomalin since Thirsil nothing ha's to leave thee And leave thee must pardon me gentle friend If nothing but my love I onely give thee Yet see how great this Nothing is I send For though this love of thine I sweetest prove Nothing 's more sweet then is this sweetest love The souldier Nothing like his prey esteems Nothing toss'd sailers equal with the shore Nothing before his health the sick man deems The pilgrim hugges his countrey Nothing more The miser hoording up his golden wares This Nothing with his precious wealth compares Our thoughts ambition onely Nothing ends Nothing fills up the golden-dropsied minde The prodigall that all so lavish spends Yet Nothing cannot Nothing stayes behinde The King that with his life a kingdome buyes Then life or crown doth Nothing higher prize Who all enjoyes yet Nothing now desires Nothing is greater then the highest Iove Who dwells in heav'n then Nothing more requires Love more then honey Nothing more sweet then love Nothing is onely better then the best Nothing is sure Nothing is ever blest I love my health my life my books my friends Thee dearest Thomalin Nothing above thee For when my books friends health life fainting ends When thy love fails yet Nothing still will love me When heav'n and aire the earth and floating mains Are gone yet Nothing still untoucht remains Since then to other streams I must betake me And spitefull Chame of all ha's quite bereft me Since Muses selves false Muses will forsake me And but this Nothing nothing els is left me Take thou my love and keep it still in store That given Nothing now remaineth more Against a rich man despising povertie IF well thou view'st us with no squinted eye No partiall judgement thou wilt quickly rate Thy wealth no richer then my povertie My want no poorer then thy rich estate Our ends and births alike in this as I Poore thou wert born and poore again shalt die My little fills my little-wishing minde Thou having more then much yet seekest more Who seeks still wishes what he seeks to finde Who wishes wants and who so wants is poore Then this must follow of necessitie Poore are thy riches rich my povertie Though still thou gett'st yet is thy want not spent But as thy wealth so growes thy wealthy itch But with my little I have much content Content hath all and who hath all is rich Then this in reason thou must needs confesse If I have little yet that thou hast lesse What ever man possesses God hath lent And to his audit liable is ever To reckon how and where and when he spent Then this thou bragg'st thou art a great receiver Little my debt when little is my store The more thou hast thy debt still growes the more But seeing God himself descended down T' enrich the poore by his rich povertie His meat his house his grave were not his own Yet all is his from all eternitie Let me be like my Head whom I adore Be thou great wealthie I still base and poore Contemnenti COntinuall burning yet no fire or fuel Chill icie frosts in midst of summers frying A hell most pleasing and a heav'n most cruel A death still living and a life still dying And whatsoever pains poore hearts can prove I feel and utter in one word I LOVE Two fires of love and grief each upon