friends nor Lords Nor Princes peace or happiness affords Trust thou in God ply him with prayers still Be sure of help for he both can and will LIII Upon the Kings imprisonment IMprison me you Traytors must I be Your fetter'd slave while you 're at liberty T' usurp my Scepter and to make my power Gnaw its own bowels and it self devour You glorious villains Treasons that have been Done in all ages are done o'r agen Expert proficients that have far out-done Your Tutors Presidents and have out-run The practise of all times whose acts will be Thought Legendary by Posterity Was 't not enough you made me bear the wrong of a rebellious sword and viprous tongue To lose my State my Children Crown and Wife But must you take my liberty and life Subjects can find no fortress but their graves When servants sway and Soveraigns are slaves ' Cause I 'll not sign nor give consent unto Those lawless actions that you 've done and do Nor yet betray my Subjects and so be As treacherous to them as you to me Is this the way to mould me to your wills To expiate former crimes by greater ills Mistaken fools to think my soul can be Grasp'd or infring'd by such low things as ye Alas though I 'm immur'd my mind is free I 'll make your very Gaol my liberty Plot do your worst I safely shall deride In my Crown'd soul vour base inferiour pride And stand unmov'd though all your plagues you bring I 'll dye a Martyr or I 'll live a King LIV. On the Death of King CHARLES HOw dead nay murdred not a Comet seen Nor one strange prodigy to intervene I 'm satisfy'd heaven had no sight so rare Nor so prodigious as his murtherers are Who at this instant had not drawn the air Had they not been preserv'd b'his Funeral Pray'r And yet who looks aright may plainly spy The Kingdom 's to it self a prodigy The scatter'd stars have joyn'd themselves in one And have thrown Phoebus head long from his throne They 'ld be the Sun themselves and shine and so By their joynt blaze inflame the world below Which bâ—â—imitation does t' a Chaos fall And shake it self t' an Earth-quake general And 't is the height of miracle that we Live in these wonders yet no wonders see Nature groan'd out her last when he did fall Whose influence gave quickning to us all His soul was anthem'd out in prayers and those Angel-like Hallelujahs sung in prose David the second we no difference knew Between th' old David's spirit and the new In him grave wisdome so with grace combines As Solomon were still in David's loynes And had he lived in K. David's time H' had equal'd him in all things but his crime Now since you 'r gone great P. this care we 'l have Your books shall never find a death or grave By whose diviner flame the world must be Purg'd from its dross and chang'd to purity Which neither time nor treason can destroy Nor ign'rant Error that 's more fell then they A piece like some rare picture at remove Shews one side Eagle and the other Dove Sometimes the Reason in it soars so high It shews affliction quells not majesty Yet still Crown dignity and self deny'd It helps to bear up courage though not pride Trodden humility in robes of state Meekly despising all the frowns of fate Your Grandsire K. that shew'd what good did flow From the tall Cedar to the shrub below By violent flame to ashes though calcin'd His soul in t ' you we transmigrated find Whose leafs shall like the Cybels be ador'd When time shall open each prophetick word And shall like Scripture be the Rule of good To those that shall survive the flaming flood Whose syllables are Libraries and can Make a small volume turn a Vatican So th' hunted Bâ—zoar when he 's sure to dye Bequeaths his cordials to his enemy Rest Royal dust and thank the storms that drove Against their will you to your haven above They have but freed you from those waves that curl'd Their bloudy power to drown this boistrous world They 've but chang'd Throne for throne and Crown for Crown You took a glorious laid a thorny down You sit among your Peers with Saints and Kings View how we plot for sublunary things And labour for our ruine you did fall Just like our Saviour for the sins of all And for your own for in this impious time Virtue 's a vice and piety's a crime The sum of all whose faults being understood Is this We were too bad and you too good LV. On the Kings Death WHat means this sadness why does every eye Wallow in tears what makes the lowring sky Look clouded thus with sighs is it because The great Defender of the Faith and Laws Is sacrificed to the barbarous rage Of those prodigious Monsters of our age A prey to the insatiate will of those That are the Kings and Kingdoms cursed foes 'T is true there 's cause enough each eye should be a Torrent and each man a Niobe To see a wise just valiant temperate man Should leave the World who either will or can Abstain from grief To see a Father dye And his half-self and Orphans weeping by To see a Master dye and leave a State Unsetled and Usurpers gape to ha 't To see a King dissolve to 's mother dust And leave his headless Kingdome to the lust And the ambitious wills of such a rout Which work its end to bring their own about 'T is cause of sorrow but to see thee slain Nay murdred too makes us grive o'r again But to be kill'd by Servants or by Friends This will raise such a grief as never ends And yet we find he that was all these things And more the best of Christians and of Kings Suffer'd all this and more whose sufferings stood So much more great then these as he more good Yet 't is a vain thing to lament our loss Continued mourning adds but cross to cross What 's past can't be recall'd our sadness may Drive us to him but can't bring him away Nor can a Kingdomes cries re-state the Crown Upon his head which their sins tumbled down Rest then my soul and be contented in Thy share of sufferings as well as sin I see no cause of wonder in all this But still expect such fruits of wickedness Kings are but Earth refin'd and he that wears A Crown but loads himself with griefs and fears The World it self to its first nothing tends And things that had beginnings must have ends Those glorious lamps of Heav'n that give us light Must at the last dissolve to darkness quite If the Coelestial Architectures go To dissolution so must earthy too If ruine seize on the vast frame of nature The little World must imitate the greater I 'll put no trust in wealth for I do see Fate can take me from it or it from me Trust not in honour 't is but peoples cry
do practice it Your subtler sex first ventred on the tree Where knowledg grew and pluck'd the fruit which we Did only tast and that at second hand Yet by that hand and taste we 're all trepâ—n'd And our posterity the doom endures You op'd our eyes as you know who did yours By your command this Song thus rudely pen'd To you I do commit though not commend To shew what duty I 'm arriv'd unto You cannot sooner bid then I can do Nor can your active soul command and sway With more delight and pride then mine obey I will not say this Poem's bad or good 'T is as 't is lik'd and as 't is understood A Poem's life and death dependeth still Not on the Poets wit but Readers will Should it in sence seem rascal low and dull Your eye can make it sprightly plump and full And if it should be lame I hope 't will be ' Cause somewhat like your self more pleasing t' ye If it should trip assist it with your hand You may lend feet for you can make things stand One touch of yours can cure its ev'l and then 'T is made by your fair hand not my blunt pen Useful for love or slighting you 'l it find For love before or for disdain behind Be 't as you please to more it can't aspire 'T is all it can deserve or I desire X. To his Friend C. S. Esquire INspir'd with plum-brâ—th and mine'd pies This Letter comes in humble wise To know how Su. and how you do Or whether you do do or no Whether you Christmas keep or not For here we such a Mayor have got That though our Taverns open stand Church doors are shut by his command He does as good as say we think Leave off this preaching and go drink But this I doubt's no news to you The Countrey 's Atheist part part Jew And care no more for Christ or 's Mass Then he for them So let 'um pass And could the Priests be sure of pay They 'ld down with that and t'other day Yet spite of all our May'r could say We would not fast though could not pray Here 's feasting still throughout the City And drinking much the more 's the pity And that 's the cause why all this time I did not answer your last Rhithme Nor did I know 'T is not my fashion In verse to make a disputation What ever Su. and you have writ Shews both your kindness and your wit But only I desire to know If you 're a Member made or no For here we have a great adoe About our choice whom how and who Elects or is Elected some To be made Members send and come While others of the wiser sort Sit still at home and care not for 't Richard 't is thought has no intent To have an endless Parliament Nor must they share his goods and lands For what he has he 'l keep in 's hands Much is not left to be divided The business has so well been guided Nay he himself I tell no lye Wants money more then you or I No reason therefore can I see Why you should bustle much to be A Senatour unless it were For honour yet that is but air And not the sweet'st or saf'st but still Depends on other peoples will But trust me Charles you have a vain That does more love and honour gain And longer keep 't then all the tricks Of those that study Politicks Protections needless for they say You owe no debts that you can pay To Nature one which during life You cannot pay nor that t' your Wife Yet I would have you come away That though the House don't meet we may When every one gets up and ride 'T is good to be o' th rising side For as i' th Church so 't is i' th State Who 's not Elect is Reprobate XI To C. S. Esquire Justice I 've waited long to find thee here Peep'd into th' house but could not see thee there I went to th' other House but they 're so new They no such name or person ever knew 'T was for this cause my pen has slept so long I hop'd to see thee in that learned throng And did believe some Borough would in pity Have sent thee up to dignifie our City But Corporations do not well discern What 's for their good and they 're too old to learn Had our whole Senate been such men as thou They 'd not been routed but sate still till now But they 'd be medling and to voting fall Against the sword and that out-votes them all Had they observ'd thy Councel they 'd been safe Stick to the strongest side and think and laugh What matter i' st what those in Office say When those that are in power do answer nay A Cutlers shop affords us stronger law Then Cook or Littleton e'r read or saw But be content let them do what they will Be thou a Justice I 'm Atturney still A poor Atturney is a safer thing Now then to be Protector or a King Our noble Sheriff's a dying and I fear Will never feast us more in Taunton-shire Pray tell your lovely Sue I love her still As Well's I dare let her not take it ill I write not to her I 've time enough 't is true But have not wit enough to deal with Sue XII To C. S. Esquire DEar Charles I 'm thus far come to see thy face Thy pretty face but this unhappy place Does not afford it and I 'm told by some That want of Tythes make thee thou can'st not come Why Charles art thou turn'd Priest and at this time When Priests themselves have made their coat a crime And tythes which make men Priests do so decay One other Schism will preach them quite away Thou 'lt ne'r become it well for I do find Wit in a Pulpit is quite out of kind Thou canst not stand long nor talk much and lowd Nor thrash nor couzen the admiring crowd And which is worse though th' hast a face and hand A diamond ring white glove and clean lawn band Able to tempt an Abbess yet I find Thou canst not satisfie the Ladies mind What ere the matter is But thou art wise And do'st best know thine own infirmities Let me advise thee Charles be as thou art A Poet so thou need'st not care a For all the turns of time who ere did know The Muses sequestred or who can shew That ever wit paid taxes or was rated Homer and Virgil ne'r were decimated Ovid indeed was banished but for that Which women say you ne'r were ex'lent at But Charles thou art unjusticed I 'm told By one who though not valiant yet is bold And that thou hast unfortunately met The blinded scourge o' th Western-Bajazet Thrown from the bench like Lucifer and are In a fair way to be brought to the bar I' th interim hang 'twixt both as law doth name us A billa-vera-man or Ignoramus But I can't learn wherefore it is nor how Though
to Church and sleep and home again Twice in a Sabbath and to break the rest With tedious repetions and molest The Servants memories with such pitteous stuff As wisemen think once said's more then enough Thus do we spend our time and meet with nothing But what creates our trouble and our loathing Come then away leave Butchers leave thy Lord Our Countrey here shall both or more afford Jack here 's a Lord a Prince nay more a friend He and his bottles make the Vulgar bend And if thou didst believe him or know me I am more Butcher then they two can be If all these things won't make thee come away I am resolv'd to thee-ward if thou 'lt stay Drink till I come that I may find thee mellow 'T is ten to one thou'lt meet or make thy fellow XV. To his Friend I. B. Upon his Tragedy In 1652. THou may'st well wonder and my self should be Dumb if I should be dumb in praising thee Since I 've occasion now to exercise Sublimest thoughts yet not hyperbolize But since we two are Brothers and subscribe Both Voluntiers to the Poetick Tribe I dare not do 't lest any Dulman sayes We by consent do one another praise Yet dare applaud thy work and thee in it So good in language plot and strength of wit That none but thou can equall't Not a line But 's thine ' cause good and good because 't is thine So that my duller sight can hardly see Whether thou mak'st it exc'lent or it thee Let those whose anvil-heads beat all delight Into a toil at every line they write Now vail to thee and fairly yield the bayes Since all their works compar'd with thine are playes So far I like thy worth that I should be Intic'd if possible to flatter thee XVI To a Potting Priest upon a Quarrel In 1643. I Cannot choose but wonder Mr. That we two wisemen had so little wit As without quarrel jealousies or fears Worse then the times we two should go by th' ears I marvel what inspir'd this valour in you Though you were weak you 'd something strong within you 'T was not your learning neither can I think That 't was your valour but John D strong drink Love and good liquor have a strong command T' make cowards fight longer then they can stand I need not ask your reason for 't was gone Nor had you sense enough to feel you 'd none Was it to shew your Mistress you could fight Living i' th woods you 'ld be an Errant Knight That Lady may have cause enough to rue That has no better Champion then you You might have sav'd that labour each man reads You 're a wilde man both in your looks and deeds By th' wonders of your drinking men may see You are a Hero without Chivalry You thought a duel would your Mrs. please But prov'd a Thraso not an Hercules I might have thought my self a Worthy too Because I tam'd a Monster that is you Your Zeal me thought was greatly kindled That went to make a Pulpit of my head Blame me not though I strook for I was vext To be so basely handled like your Text With subtil Sophistry that when you mist In words you would confute me with your fist But such weak Sillogisms from you ran As I could never read in Keckerman That brain-aspiring drink so much did dip us You mistook Aristotle for Aristippus Your head that should be King was now pull'd down While that rebellious Beer usurp'd your crown And your Mechannick heels gaz'd on the stars As if they went to turn Astronsmers Your legs were altogether for commanding And taught your foolish head more understanding Your body so revers'd did represent Being forked our bi-corned Government Your wits were banished and your brains were drown'd While your Calves-head lay center'd to the ground Thus being black without within a beast I took you for a Tinker not a Priest In your next Sermon let your audience hear How you can preach damnation to strong Beer I have return'd your knife at your demand But if I 've put a sword t' a mad mans hand Let me advise you when you fight again Fight with a worse or be a better man XVII To his Friend Mr. W. H. upon the death of his Hawk In 1643. WHat will you suffer thus your Hawk to dye And shan't her name live in an Elegy It shall not be nor shall the people think We 've so few Poets or so little drink And if there be no sober brain to do it I 'll wet my Muse and set my self unto it I have no Gods nor Muse to call upon Sir John's strong barrel is my Helicon From whence uncurbed streams of tears shall flow And verse shall run when I my self can't go Poor bird I pitty this thy strange disaster That thou should'st thus be murther'd by thy master Was it with Salt I 'm sure he was not fresh Or wa' st thy trusting to an arm of flesh Or ' cause 't was darksome did his eye-sight fail Meeting a Post he took it for a Rayle And yet I wonder how he mis'd his sight For though the night was dark his head was light And though he bore thee with a mighty hand Thou needs must fall when he himself can't stand 'T is but our common lot for we do all Sometimes for want of understanding fall But thou art serv'd aright for when th' hadst flown What e're thou took'st thou took'st to be thy own And 't is but Justice that each plundring knave That such a life doth lead such death should have Rejoyce you Partridge and be glad ye Rayles For the Hawks tallons are as short's your tayles If all the Kingdoms bloudy foes as she Would break their necks how joyful should we be Well at her burial thus much I will tell In spite of schism her bells shall ring a knell XVIII To his School-Master Mr. W. H. upon his Poem call'd Conscientiae accusatricis Hypotyposis In 1644. Sir WHen I read your work and thought upon How lively you had made description Of an accusing conscience and did see How well each limn did with th' Archtipe agree I wonder'd how you could lim't out so well Since you b'experience can't it's horrour tell Trust me I 'ld praise it but that I suppose My praise would make it more inglorious In love to th' work and work-man I thought meet To make your verses stand on English feet But whe'r well done or ill I here submit Unto your censure both my self and it I 'm man I 'm young unlearn'd and thereupon I know I cannot boast perfection In fetter'd tasks wherein the fancy's tide Do what one can the lustre won't abide No Ideoms kiss so well but that there is Between some phrases some Antithesis What e'r is good in each unpolish'd line I count as yours the faults alone are mine I wish each foot and line as strong and true As my desire to love and honour you XIX To
had writ Lines that would make the Reader spit Nor beyond puns would Pindar get Virgil and Horace if inspir'd by thee Had writ but lewd and pagan poetry Dull dropsi'd lines or else as dry and raging as a Feaver 4. Treasons committed and contriv'd by thee Kingdoms and Kings subverted 'T is thou makest Rulers fools and cowards bee And such as ought to bend the Knee Madly invade the Soveraignty Thou throw'st us on all actions viâ—e and fell First mak'st us do and then thou mak'st us tell And whom we swore to serve By thee we â—asely have deserted 5. Thou plague of bodies and th' unnatural Nurse Of Sickness and Physitians Raine of wit and strength and fame and purse That hast destroy'd poor mortals worse Then the great plague or Mâ—rosh curse In fifty nine th' hast spilt more English bloud Then e'r in eighty eight the Spaniard could By his Armado or can since destroy By 's Inquisitions 6. Hence from my veins from my desires be gone I loath thee and defie thee I 'll now find out a purer Helicon Which wits may safely feast upon And baffle thy hobgoblin Don And live to see thee and thy mungrel race Contemn'd and rooted out of every place And those thou 'st fool'd and wrong'd like me For ever ever fly thee SONG XXXVIII The Lamentation Written in 164â— 1. MOurn London mourn Bathe thy polluted â—oul in tears Return return Thou hast more cause of grief then th' hadst fo◠〈◊〉 For the whole Kingdoâ—â— now begins To feel thy sorrows as they saw thy sins And now do no Compassion show Unto thy misery and wo But slight thy sufferings as thou didst theirs 2. Pride towring pride And boyling lust those fatal twins Sit side by side And are become plantations of sins Hence thy Relellions first did flow Both to the King above and him below And fordid floth The Nurse of both Have rais'd thy crimes to such a growth That sorrow must conclude as sin begins 3. Fire raging fire Shall burn thy stately towers down Yet not expire Tygres and Wolves or men more savage grown Thy childrens brains and thine shall dash And in your bloud their guilty tallons wash Thy Daughters must Allay their lust Mischiefs will be on miscief thrust Till thy Cap tumble as thou mad'st the Crown 4. Cry London cry Now now petition for redress Where canst thou fly Thy emptied chests augment thy heaviness The Gentry and the Commons loath Th' adored Houses slight thee worse then both The King poor Saint Would help but can't To heav'n alone unfold thy want Thence came thy plagues thence only pity flow'th SONG XXXIX The Riddle Written in 1644. 1. NO more no more We are already pin'd And sore and poor In body and in mind And yet our sufferings have been Less then our sin Come long-desired peace we thee implore And let our pains be less or power more 2. Lament Lament And let thy tears run down To see the rent Between the Robe and Crown Yet both do strive to make it more Then 't was before War like a serpent has its head got in And will not end so soon as 't did begin 3. One body Jars And with its self does fight War meets with wars And might resisteth might And both sides say they love the King And peace will bring Yet since these fatal civil broyles begun Strange Riddle both have conquer'd neither won 4. One God one King One true Religion still In every thing One Law both should fulfil All these both sides does still pretend That they defend Yet to encrease the King and Kingdoms woes Which side soever wins good subjects lose 5. The King doth swear That he doth fight for them And they declare They do the like for him Both say they wish and fight for peace Yet wars increase So between both before our wars be gone Our lives and goods are lost and we 're undone 6. Since 't is our curse To fight we know not why 'T is worse and worse The longer thus we lye For war it self is but a Nurse To make us worse Come blessed peace we once again implore And let our pains be less or power more SONG XL. On the Kings Return 1. LOng have we waited for a happy End Of all our miseries and strif But still in vain the Sword-men did intend To make them hold for term of Life That our distempers might be made Their everlasting livelihood and trade 2. They entayle their Swords and Guns And pay which wounded more Upon their Daughters and their Sons Thereby to keep us ever poor 3. And when the Civil wars were past They civil Government envade To make our taxes and our slavery last Both to their titles and their trade 4. But now we are redeem'd from all By our Indulgent King Whose coming does prevent our fall With loyal and with joyful hearts we 'l sing Chorus Welcome welcome royal May Welcome long desired Spring Many Springs and Mays we 've seen Have brought forth what 's gay and green But none is like this glorious day Which brings forth our Gracious King SONG XLI A Catch LEt 's leave off our labour and now let 's go play For this is our time to be jolly Our plagues and our plaguers are both fled away To nourish our griefs is but folly He that won't drink and sing Is a Traytor to 's King And so 's he that does not look twenty years younger We 'l look blithe and trim With rejoycing at him That is the restorer and will be the Prolonger Of all our felicity and health The joy of our hearts and increase of our wealth 'T is he brings our trading our trading brings riches Our riches brings honours at which every mind itches And our riches bring Sack our Sack brings us joy And our joy makes us leap and sing Vive le Roy. SONG XLII For General Monk his entertainment at Cloath-workers-Hall 1. RIng Bells and let bone-fires out-blaze the Sun Let ecchoes contribute their voice Since now a happy settlement's begun Let all things tell how all good men rejoyce If these sad Lands by this Can but obtain the bliss Of their desired though abused peace We 'l never never more Run mad as we have heretofore To buy our ruine but all strife shall cease 2. The Cobler shall edifie us no more Nor shall in divinity set any stitches The women we will no more hear and adore That preach with their husbands for the breeches The Phanatical tribe That will not subscribe To the orders of Church and of State Shall be smother'd with the zeal Of their new common-weal And no man will mind what they prate Chorus We 'l eat and we 'l drink we 'l dance and we 'l sing The Roundheads Caveys no more shall be nam'd But all joyn together to make up the ring And rejoyce that the many-headed dragon is tam'd 'T is friendship and love that can save us and arm us And while we
other a knock on the pate This set them a voting and the upper House swore 'T was a breach of priviledge he gave him no more The lower the breaking their Members head voted A breach of their priviledge for it is to be noted That Treason and Priviledge in it did grow 'T was a breach of his Crown and dignity too Then came in the Women with a long long petition To settle Militia and damn the Commission For if fighting continue they say they did fear That Men would be scarce and Husbands be dear So plainly the Speaker the business unties That presently all the Members did rise They had hardly the leisure all things to lay ope But some felt in their Bellies if they had not a Pope Some strictly stood to them and others did fear Each carried about them a fierce Cavalier This business was handled by the Close-Committee That privately met at a place in the City So closely to voting the Members did fall That the humble Sisters were overthrown all But they and their helpers came short at the last Till at length the whole work on Prince Griâ—â—ith was cast And he with his troup did handle the matter He pleased every Woman as soon as he came at her The business had like to have gone on their side Had not Pym perswaded them not to confide For rather then peace to fill the Common-wealth He said hee 'd do ten every night himself Thursday This day a great fart in the house they did hear Which made all the Members make buttons for fear And one makes nine speeches while the business was hot And spake through the nose that he smelt out the plot He takes it to task and the Articles drawes As a breach of their own Fundamental laws Now Letters were read which did fully relate A victory against New-Castle of late That hundreds were slain and hundreds did run And all this was got ere the battel begun This then they resolved to make the best on And next they resolved upon the Question That Bonfires and praises the Pulpit and Steeple Must all be suborned to couzen the People But the policy was more money to get For the conquest 's dear bought and far enough fet Such victories in Ireland although it be known They strive to make that Land as bad as our own No sooner the money for this was brought hither But a croud of true Letters came flocking together How Hotham and 's army and others were beaten This made the blew Members to startle and threaten And these by all means must be kept from the City And only referred to the Privy-Committee And they presently with an Extempore Vote which they have used so long that they learned by rote They stil'd them malignant and to lies they did turn them Then Corbet in stead of the Hangman must burn them And he after that an Ordinance draws That none should tell truth that disparag'd the cause Then P. like a Pegasus trots up and down And takes up an angel to throw down a Crown He stands like a Centaure and makes a long speech That came from his mouth and part from his breech He moves for more Horse that the Army may be Part Mans-flesh and Horse-flesh as well as he And hee 'l be a Colonel as well as another But durst not ride a horse ' cause a horse rode his Mother Friday Sir Hugh Cholmley for being no longer a Traytor Was accus'd of treason in the highest Nature ' Cause he as they bad him his Souldiers did bring To turn from Rebellion and fight for the King They voted him out but nor they nor their men Could vote him into the house agen Sir David's Remonstrance next to them was read From the Cities round body and Isaac's the head 'T was approv'd but one cause produc'd a denial That all Traytors be brought to a Legal trial For 't is against reason to vote or to do Against Traytors when they are no other but so Because about nothing so long they sit still They hold it convenient Diurnals to fill And therefore they gave their Chronographer charge To stuffe it with Orders and Letters at large The King by 's Prerogative nor by the Law Can speak nor print nothing his people to draw Yet Penny-les Pampleters they do maintain Whose only Religion is Stipendary gain Who Cum Privilegio against King and the State The treason that 's taught them like Parrats they prate These Hackneys are licenc't what ever they do As if they had Parliament priviledge too Thus then they consult so zealous they are To settle the peace of the Kingdom by war But against Civil war their hatred is such To prevent it they 'l bring in the Scots and the Dutch They had rather the Land be destroy'd in a minute Then abide any thing that has loyalty in it And yet their rebellion so neatly they trim They fight for the King but they mean for King Pym These all to fight for and maintain are sent The Lawes of England but New-England is meant And though such disorders are broke in of late They keep it the Anagram still of a State For still they are plotting more riches to bring To make Charles a rich and glorious King And by this rebellion this good they will do him They 'l forfeit all their Estates unto him No Clergy must meddle in Spiritual affairs But Layton ne'r heard of it losing his ears For that he might be deaf to the prisoners cries To a spiritual Goalers place he must rise The rest have good reason for what they shall do For they are both Clergy and Laity too Or else at the best when the question is stated They are but Mechannicks newly translated They may be Committees to practise their bawling For stealing of horses is a spiritual calling The reason why people our Martyrs adore ' Cause their ears being cut off their fame sounds the more 'T was ordered the Goods of Malignants and Lands Shall be shar'd among them and took into their hands They send spirits for more malignants to come That every one in the house may have some Then down to Guild-hall they return with their thanks To the fools whom the Lottery has cheated with blanks Saturday This day there came news of the taking a Ship To see what strange wonders are wrought in the deep That a troop of their Horse ran into the Sea And pull'd out a Ship alive to the key And after much prating and fighting they say The ropes serv'd for traces to draw her away Sure these were Sea-horses or else by their lying They 'ld make them as famous for swimming as flying The rest of the day they spent to bemoan Their Brother the Round-head that to Tyburn was gone And could not but think it a barbarous thing To hang him for killing a friend to the King He was newly baptized and held it was good To be washed yet not in water but blood They ordered for
as Romulus was 9. At last when the rout with their head did fall out And the wars thereupon did fall in He went to the field with a sword but no shield Strong drink was his buckler within 10. But when he did spy how they dropt down and die And did hear the bullets to sing His arms he flung down and run fairly to town And exchang'd his sword for his sling 11. Yet he claimed his share in such honours as were Belonging to nobler spirits That ventur'd their lives while this Buffon survives To receive the reward of their merits 12. When the wars were all done he his fighting begun And would needs shew his valour in peace Then his fury he flings at poor conquer'd things And frets like a hog in his grease 13. For his first feat of all on a Wit he did fall A wit as some say and some not Because he 'd an art to rhithm on the quart But never did care for the pot 14. And next on the cocks he fell like an Ox And took them and their Masters together But the combs and the spurs kept himself his Sirs Who are to have both or neither 15. The cause of his spite was because they would fight And because he durst not he did take-on And said they were fit for the pot not the pit And would serve to be eaten with bacon 16. But flesh'd with these spoyles the next of his toyles Was to fall with wild-beasts by the ears To the Bear-ward he goeth then opened his mouth And said oh are you there with your bears 17. Our stories are dull of a cock and a bull But such was his valour and care Since he bears the bell the tales that we tell Must be of a cock and a bare 18. The crime of the bares was they were Caveliers And had formerly fought for the King And pull'd by the Burrs the round-headed Currs That they made both their ears to ring 19. Our successour of Kings like blind fortune flings Upon him both honour and store Who has as much right to make Tom a Knight As Tom has desert and no more 20. But Fortune that whore still attended this Brewer And did all his atchievements reward And blindly did fling on this lubberly thing More honour and made him a Lord. 21. Now he walks with his spurs and a couple of curs At his heels which he calls Squires So when honour is thrown on the head of a clown 'T is by Parasites held up and Lyars 22. The rest of his pranks will merit new thanks With his death if we did but know it But we 'l leave him and it to a time and place fit And Greg. shall be funeral Poet. VIII The New Mountebank Written in 1643. IF any body politick Of plenty or ease be very sick There 's a Physician come to Town Of far fetcht fame and high renown Though call'd a Mountebank 't is meant Both words being French a Parliament Who from Geneva and Amsterdam From Germany and Scotland came Now lies in London but the place If men say true is in his face His Scaffold stands on Tower-hill When he on Strafford try'd his skill Off went his head you 'l think him slain But straight 't was voted on again Diurnals are his weekly-bills Which speak how many he cures or kills But of the Errata we 'l advise For cure read kill for truth read lies If any Traytor be diseased with a sore-neck and would be eased There is a pill they call a Vote Take it ex tempore it shall do 't If any conscience be to strict Here 's several p 〈…〉 from Lectures pickt Which swallowed down will stretch it full As far as 't is from this to Hull Is any by Religion bound Or Law and would be looser found Here 's a Glister which we call His priviledge o'r-topping all Is any money left or plate Or goods bring 't in at any rate He 'l melt three shillings into one And in a minute leave you none Here 's powder to inspire the lungs Here 's water that unties your tongues Spight of the Law 't will set you free To speak treason only lispingly Here 's Leeches which if well apply'd And fed will stick close to your fide Till your superfluous bloud decay Then they 'l break and drop away But here 's a soveraign Antidote Be sure our Soveraign never know 't Apply it as the Doctour pleases 'T will cure all wounds and all diseases A drug none but himself e're saw 'T is call'd a Fundamental Law Here 's Glasses to delude your sight Dark Lanthorns here here bastard light This if you conquer trebbles the men If loose a hundred seems but ten Here 's Opium to lull asleep And here lie dangerous plots in steep Here stands the safety of the City There hangs the invisible Committee Plundring's the new Philosophers stone Turns war to Gold and Gold to 〈…〉 e And here 's an Ordinance that shall At one full shot enrich you all He 's skilled in the Mathematicks And in his circle can do tricks By raising spirits that can smell Plots that are hatcht as deep as hell Which ever to themselves are known The Devil 's ever kind to his own All this he gratis doth and saith He 'l only take the Publick Faith Flock to him then make no delay The next fair wind he must away IX The Saints Encouragement Written in 1643. FIght on brave Souldiers for the cause Fear not the Caveliers Their threatnings are as senseless as Our Jealousies and fears 'T is you must perfect this great work And all Malignants slay You must bring back the King again The clean contrary way 'T is for Religion that you fight And for the Kingdoms good By robbing Churches plundring men And shedding guiltless blood Down with the Orthodoxal train All Loyal Subjects slay When these are gone we shall be blest The clean contrary way When Charle◠we 've bankrupt made like us Of Crown and power bereft him And all his loyal subjects slain And none but Rebels left him When we 've beggar ' d all the Land And sent our Truncks away We 'l make him then a glorious Prince The clean contrary way 'T is to preserve his Majesty That we against him fight Nor are we ever beaten back Because our cause is right If any make a scruple on 't Out Declarations say Who fight for us fight for the King The clean contrary way At Keynton Branford Plymmouth York And divers places more What victories we Saints obtain'd The like ne'r seen before How often we Prince Rupert kill'd And bravely won the day The wicked Caveliers did run The clean contrary way The true Religion we maintain The Kingdomes peace and plenty The priviledge of Parliament Not known to one of twenty The ancient Fundamental Laws And teach men to obey Their Lawful Soveraign and all these The clean contrary way We subjects Liberties preserve By prisonment and plunder And do
in light And yet they blaze to make him lowre That star that looks more red than others are Is a prodigious Comet and a blazing-star 4. The World 's undone When stars oppose the Sun And make him change his constant course to rest His foaming Steeds Flying those daring deeds i th' stables of the North or West Whence we may fear he 'l never more return To light warm us with his rayes but all to burn 5. Heav'n made them all Yet not Anarchical But in degrees and orders they are set Should they all be In a grand Committe In heavens painted chamber yet Sol would out shine them guide me Phaebus ray And let those Lanthorns keep their borrowed light away 6. Let 's not admire This new phantastick fire That our vain eyes deceives and us misleads Those Bears we see That would our Lyons be Want tails and will want heads The world will soon into destruction run When bold blind Phaetons guide the chariot of the sun XVII Palinode 1. NO more no more of this I vow 'T is time to leave this fooling now Which few but fools call Wit There was a time when I begun And now 't is time I should have done And meddle no more with it He Physick's use doth quite mistake That Physick takes for Physick's sake 2. My heat of youth and love and pride Did swell me with their strong spring-tyde Inspir'd my brain and blood And made me then converse with toyes Which are call'd Muses by the boyes And dabble in their flood I was perswaded in those dayes There was no crown like love and bayes 3. But now my youth and pride are gone And age and cares come creeping on And business checks my love What need I take a needless toyle To spend my labour time and oyl Since no design can move For now the cause is ta'n away What reason i st th' effect should stay 4. 'T is but a folly now for me To spend my time and industry About such useless wit For when I think I have done well I see men laugh but cannot tell Where 't be at me or it Great madness 't is to be a drudge When those that cannot write dare judge 5. Besides the danger that ensu'th To him that speaks or writes the truth The proemium is so small To be called Poet and wear bayes And Factor turn of Songs and Playes This it no wit at all Wit only good to sport and sing 's a needless and an endless thing 6. Give me the Wit that can't speak sense Nor read it but in 's own defence Ne'r learn'd but of his Grannum He that can buy and sell and cheat May quickly make a shift to get His thousand pound per annum And purchase without much ado The Poems and the Poet too XVIII A Ballad OLd England is now a brave Barbary made And every one has an ambition to ride her K. Charles was a horseman that long us'd the trade But he rode in a snaffle and that could not guide her Then the hungry Scot comes with spur and with switch And would teach her to run a Geneva career His Grooms were all Puritan Traytor and witch But she soon threw them down with their pedlery geer The long Parliament next came all to the block And they this untamable Palfry would ride But she would not bear all that numerous flock At which they were fain themselves to divide Jack Presbyter first gets the Steed by the head While the reverend Bishops had hold of the bridle Jack said through the nose they their flocks did not feed But sate still on the beast and grew aged and idle And then comes the Rout with broomsticks inspir'd And pull'd down their Graces their sleeves and their train And sets up sir Jack who the beast quickly tyr'd With a journey to Scotland thence back again Jack rode in a dublet with a yoke of prick-ears A cursed splay-mouth and a Covenant-spur Rides switching and spurring with jealousies and fears Till the poor famish'd beast was not able to stir Next came th' Independant a dev'lish designer And got himself call'd by a holier name Makes Jack to unhorse for he was diviner And would make her travel as far 's Amsterdam But Nol a rank rider gets first in the saddle And made her show tricks and curvate and rebound She quickly perceiv'd that he rode widdle waddle And like his Coach-horses threw his Highness to ground Then Dick being â—ame rode holding by the pummel Not having the wit to get hold of the rein But the Jade did so snort at the sight of a Cromwel That poor Dick and his kindred turn'd foot-men again Next Flâ—etwood and Vane with their Rascally pack Would every one put their feet in the stirrup But they pull ' the saddle quite off of her back And were all got under her before they were up At last the King mounts her and then she stood still As his Bucephalus proud of this Rider She cheerfully yields to his power and skill Who is careful to feed her and skilful to guide her EPISTLES I. To C. C. Esquire INspir'd with love and kindled by the flame Which from your eye and conversation came I proceed Versifier and can't chuse Since you are both my Patron and my Muse Whose fair example makes us know and do You make us Poets and you feed us too And though where ere you are is Helicon Since all the Muses proudly wait upon Your parts and person too while we sit here And like Baals Priests our flesh do cut and tear Yet for our lives can't make our baggage Muse Lend us a lift or one rich thought-infuse Or be as much as midwife to a quibble But leave us to our selves with pangs to scribble What were we wise we might well blush to view While we 're invoking them they 're courting you Yet I conceive and won't my notion smother You and your house contribute to each other 〈…〉 hills such dales such plains such rocks such springs And such a confluence of all such things As raise and gratifie the Muses so That in one Night I was created PO That 's half a Poet I can't reach to ET Because I 'm not a perfect Poet yet And I despair perfection to attain Unless I 'm sent to school to you to gain Alas Sir London is no place for verse Ingenious harmless thoughts polite and tearse Our Age admits not we are wrap'd in smoke And sin and business which the Muses choke Those things in which true poesie takes pleasure We here do want tranquillity and leasure Yet we have wits and some that for wits go Some real ones and some that would be so But 't is ill-natured wit and such as still To th' subject or the object worketh ill A Wit to cheat to ruine to betray Which renders useless what we do or say This wit will not bear verse some things we have Who in their out-side do seem brisk and brave And
retirement THough we are now analys'd and can't find How to have mutual presence but in mind I 'm bold to send you this that you may know Though you 're above yet I do live below Though I 've no bags that are with child with gold And though my fireless chymnies catch the cold For want of great revenues yet I find I've what 's as good as all a sated mind I neither money want nor have I store I have enough to live and ask no more No tip-toed turret whose aspiring brow Looks down and scorns the humble roofs below My cottage lies beneath the thunders harms Laughs at the whispers of the winds or storms My rooms are not in-lin'd with Tapistry But ragged walls where a few books may lye I flight the silks whose ruffling-whispers pride And all the worlds Tautologies beside My limbs inhabit but a Countrey dress Not to adorn but cover nakedness My family 's not such whose gentry springs Like old Mecaenasses from Grandsire Kings I 've many kinred yet my friends are few Those few not rich and yet more rich then true I've but a drachm of learning and less wit Yet that 's enough to fright my wealth from it As if those two seldome or never meet But like two Generals that with bullets greet I study to live plenteously though scant How not to have yet not to care nor want We 've here no gawdy feminines to show As you have in that great Seraglio He that weds here lies cloyster'd in a maid A Sepulchre where never man was laid Ours are with Load-stone touch'd and never will But right against their proper pole lye still Yours like Hell-gates do alwaies open lye Like Hackney-jades they stand at livery Like treasuries where each one throws his mite Gâ—lphâ— of contraries at once dark and light Where who so enters is like gold refin'd Passing through fire where Moloch sits enshrin'd And offers up a whole-burnt sacrifice To pacifie those fiery Deities I have no far-fetch'd dear-bought delicates Whose virtues prized only by their rates No fancy'd Kick-shaws that would serve t' invite To a fourth course the glutted appetite Hunger's my Cook my labour brings me meat Which best digests when it is sawc'd with sweat They that have pluresies of these about them Yet do but live and so do I without them I can sit in my study soon or late And have no Troopers quarrel with my gate Nor break the peace with it whose innocence Stands only guarded in its own defence No debts to sue for and no coyn to lend No cause to fear my foe nor slight my friend Yet there is one thing which me thinks I han't And I have studied to supply that want 'T is the Synopsis of all misery 'T is the tenth want Dear Friend the want of Thee May we once more enjoy our selves for neither Is truly blest till we are blest together XXVI An Elogy on a Lady that dyed before her intended Nuptials AMong the train of mourners whose swoln eyes Wallow in tears of these sad obsequies Admit me as a cypher here to come Who though am nothing yet can raise a sum And truly I can mourn as well as they who 're clad in sable weeds though mine is gray Excuse me Sir passion will swell that 's pent Thank not my tears I cannot but lament To see a Lady ready for your bed To death's imbraces yield her mayden-head And that Angellick Corps that should have been A Cabinet to lodge your Jewels in Should now b'imbalm'd with dust and made a prey To the happy worms who may call that day On which her limbs unto their lot did fall Your sad Solemnities their Festival Should I not mourn I could not pay the due Of tears to her or sympathy to you For Death did flay you both when she did dye So who writes one's must write both's Elegy She was too good for you she was too high A wife for Angels to get Angels by Whom you and all did love and did suppose To be an Angel in a mortal's cloaths But Heaven to undeceive you let you know By her mortality she was not so XXVII On the great cryer at Westminster-Hall WHen the great Cryer in that greater room Calls Faunt-le-roy and Alex-and-er Brome The people wonder as those heretofore When the dumb spake to hear a Cryer roar The killing crue of Cryers that do stand with Eunuches voyces squeaking on each hand Do signifie no more compar'd to him Then Member Allen did to patriot Pim. Those make us laugh while we do him adore Theirs are but Pistol his mouth 's Canon-bore Now those fame-thirsty spirits that endevour To have their names enlarg'd and last for ever Must be Atturneys of this Court and so His voyce shall like fames lowdest trumpet blow Their names about the World and make them last While we can lend an ear or he a blast XXXVIII To the memory of that loyal Patriot Sir I. Cordel Kt. THus fell the grace and glory of our time Who durst be good when goodness was a crime â— Magistrate that justly wore his gown While England had a King or King a Crown But stoutly flung it off when once he saw Might knock down right and lust did justle law His soul scorn'd a Democracy and wou'd No longer stay then while the Kingdome stood And when that fled his follow'd it to be Joyn'd to his King i' th Hieromonarchy XXX To his Mistress lodging in a room where the Skie was painted In 1642. WHen my Diviner soul I did of late In thy fair chamber for thy presence wait Looking aloft Thou know'st my look is high Else I 'd ne'r dare to court Thee I did spy Sun Moon and Stars by th' painters art appear At once all Culm'nant in one Hemisphere My small Astrology made me suppose Those Symptomes made the room prodigious Old time I thought was crampt and night and day Both monosyllabled to make me stay He 'd broke his steps of daies and hours that he Might rowle himself into Eternity The Sun as tyred with the course he ran Center'd himself in the Meridian And ' cause 't was there I could not think it night Nor durst I call it day ' cause 't gave no light I found the cause and ceased to admire Thy eyes had stoln his sight my heart his fire And that 's the cause why Sun and Moon look'd dim Thy brighter face out luster'd her and him But which increas'd my wonder I could see No Meteor portend this prodigy Comets all wink'd at this nor could I spy One Blazing-star but my portentive eye But as I mus'd what Omen this should be They all stood still as much amaz'd at me The wandring Planets had forgot to vary Gazing on me because all stationary Envying thy beauty they 're together gon To make a perfect constellation And their conjunctions t' imitate our lips Was but a loving kiss not an Eclipse Sol draws a Regiment of stars to be Tapers
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
Hugs the tall trees and the heart-cheering Wine Blushes and swells in the plump grapes which be Drunk with their own rare juyce and why should we B'endow'd with these abilities which we find Do fill the body and adorn the mind Why have we strength and art and wit to frame Such stately fabricks but t' enjoy the same And why does Art such various things produce But for our ornament delight and use If you do well in slighting these things thus God did not well in sending them to us Should you by any other be debar'd Th' enjoyment of these things how ill and hard would it appear t' you it would vex your mind As much as if you 're fetter'd and confin'd Why then does your own self restrain And limit from them thus C. I should disdain Indeed to be confin'd by other men And kept from these enjoyments so but then Hear me a little let me ask you this Suppose a man that rich and bounteous is Should make a sumptuous feast and should invite Guests of all sorts and please their appetite With cheer of all sorts too for strong men strong Dishes and for the weaker palats mix among Some milder delicates and fill his feast To the degree and palat of each guest If 'mong the guests there should be one that wou'd Snatch and devour all that on th' table stood Reaching from end to end though lusty and strong Yet eats those meats that to the weak belong Out-sits all others and out-feeds 'um too Would you think this man temperate L. Surely no. Nor temperate nor good C. But then suppose Another person should neglect all those Delicious junkats and that costly fare And those inticing delicates that are Superfluously invented to invite To new attempts the sated appetite And placeth in one plain and wholsome dish All that he needs and all that others wish And feeds but sparingly thereon don't you Think this a temperate man L. Indeed I do And on just reason C. Do you apprehend By what I say what 't is I do intend Or shall I tell you L. Pray explain your mind C. God's this feast Master who of every kind With store of various blessings has supply'd Our various wants and vast desires beside For healthy men and strong he doth provide Such diet as their health and strength can ' bide The sick and weak he doth with food supply Apt for their sickness and infirmity Not that we all should upon all things feed But all have all things that they truly need Yet so enrag'd our vast desires still be And so insatiate is our mind that we Reach at and gripe what e'r we meet withall And alwaies think what e'r we have too small T' appease our appetite that still aspires And new enjoyments breed but new desires The Land and Seas both contribute their store To our fond wills yet still we long for more What nature scatters with her lib'ral hand O'r the wide earth we ransack for no land No Sea so dangerous nor so far remote But we invade to fill the craving throat And oft neglect what 's wholsome and what 's good Because 't is easie or 't is common food Preferring things bought dearly and fetcht far Before all such as in their nature are Useful and good as if their vertue were Not to be good but difficult and dear And therefore choosing rather to endure A restless then a quiet life and pure Consider all those things which you provide To gratifie your humour lust or pride Your stately buildings costly furniture Imbroydred garments made to tempt the viewer Your gold and silver jewels and your rings And such unneedful and unuseful things For which you vainly ransack every nation Not for necessity but ostentation With how much toyle and how much danger they Must be procur'd and purchas'd for you nay With how much bloud and slaughter of poor men Whom your vain luxury does make so when They for their livelihood must plow the seas And traverse foreign land meerly to please Your pamper'd appetites and find their grave I' th bosome of an unrelenting wave Or if they scape the seas they meet by land Men crueller then waves or rocks or sand And when they are through dangers costs and pains Purchas'd and brought dusturb our hearts and brains And cause dissentions treacheries and blowes Murthers and thefts frauds rapines make friends foes Make brothers brawl with brothers and inspires Sons with unnatural rage against their Sires Husbands destroy their Spouses and the Wives Break off all bonds and snatch their husbands lives So did it make Euriphile of old Basely betray her husband for his Gold Yet when all 's done these costly garments can Warm or defend or dignifie a man No more then those which only serve for use Nor do your stately fabricks more conduce Unto our shelter and protection then Those humble Coâ—â—ages which old wise men Built for necessity to guard and warm's Against the rage of rapine or of storms Those spacious dishes and vast goblets too Wherein you riot not for need but shew Though beaten silver or of massie gold Can't make the liquor better which they hold Nor make the food more wholsome nor more sweet Nor make you see the poyson you may meet Subtly convey'd into them Nor d' your heads Or bodies rest more on your downy beds Nor sleep more soundly ' cause your bed-steads be What ere you dream of gold or Ivory Nay we do often find those men enjoy More quiet and contented sleep who lay Their wearied bodies on the humble ground And with Heaven only canopy'd around Then those can find who roll their limbs in beds Of Down or spread with Persian Cover-leds Nor is their health or strength the more who eat The most delicious and most costly meat Then theirs whose diet is but mean and small To nourish and refresh themselves withall We see the pamper'd bodies often wax Tender infirm unfit for manly Acts Consumptive full of pains and maladies Unknown by persons temperate and wise For luxury and sloth how e'r it pleases Serves but to feed Physicians and diseases Yet what a bustle do men make what dust To gratifie their palat pride and lust Nay which is more then this so vile so vain Mens hearts are grown and so corrupt their brain That they pervert the use of things and bend The Creatures use against the Creatures end L. Pray Sir who do so C. You wh ' abuse poor Men. Although you 'r fellow Creatures and have been Made of the self-same matter and inspir'd With the same soul and form and have acquir'd The same perfections too and by their birth Have as good interest in what 's here on Earth As the Great'st He only by policy By fraud or force kept in a low degree By those that property devis'd and fram'd Bounds for those things which nature free proclaim'd So brought degrees into the World and so Masters and Servants made and high and low
To gratifie Mens lazyness and pride Some must be serv'd ador'd and deifi'd Mounted in state and triumph born along On others shoulders through th' adoring throng And the poor slaves are harness'd for that toyl And us'd like beasts do asses work the while And those in highest honour with you stand Who most poor slaves can tread on and command But you blame me because I do despise And won't partake of such slight vanities But live content with what I do enjoy Not grasping superfluities that cloy And indispose the mind and with them bring Cares and vexations which to them do cling Nor are they only difficult to gain But also in the enjoyment very vain You don't consider how few things how small A wise contented man may live withall With plenty and with comfort all those things We truly need are few and mean this brings Your scorn on me to think or say at least ' Cause I live so I live but like a beast But by that rule the Gods themselves would be ' Cause they want nothing verier beasts then we Consider rightly and you 'l clearly find Which is the best way to dispose your mind Or to want much or little 't is the fate Of the inferior and the infirmer State To want more then the nobler and the strong Thus to weak infants do more wants belong Then to th' adult and thus sick persons do Want more then healthful and the women too Want more then men and men want more then Cods For they want nothing Therefore those by odds Approach most nearly to the sacred choir Who want the least and who the least desire Can you suppose great Hercules that he Whom noble acts proclaim'd a Deity Was in a wretched miserable case Because without a garment he did trace Th' uneven Earth and wandred up and down Without a purple robe or costly gown His body almost naked only drest In a rough skin tane from a slaughter'd beast Desiring none of all those trifles that We vainly prize and at so dear a rate Surely he could not miserable be Who others did protect from misery Nor was he poor his power did extend To sea and land where ever he did bend His force he won the victory and ne'r Met with his conquerour nor with his Peer D' you think he wanted garments or such things Who conquer'd and commanded Lords and Kings 'T is not to be imagin'd no he was Content and sober in his mind and as He valour shew'd he shew'd his temp'rance too And ne'r indulg'd himself as now men do With vain delights Or what say you to me Of Thesius his disciple was not he King of the Athenians and most valiant too Of all his stout contemporaries who By his renowned actions justly won The reputation of great Neptune's Son Yet was his body naked his feet bare Nor did he shave his beard or cut his hair His limbs were hard and hairy and in that He our bold Ancestors did imitate Who held a smooth and softly skin to be An argument of mens effoem'nacy And this their actions spoke them men even so Their plain and simple fashions shew'd them too They thought a beard mans natural ornament And Lyons too and that the Mane was sent For the same end to Horses and there is In both by nature plac'd a Comelyness A grace and ornament these I propose Unto my self to imitate not those Ridiculous men of this deluded age Whose undiscerning fancies do engage Their fond desires to doat on Lushious fare And gorgeous vain attire and only there Place their imaginary Happiness For my part I desire not I profess My hough should differ from a Horse but be Like Houghs as Chirons were all 's one to me I am the nobler much and happier That no more garments then the Lyons wear And that my palat does no more require Or choyser delicates then Dogs desire No better Lodging then the Earth I crave And for my dwelling-house the world I have And for my diet I provide such meat As without cost or trouble I may eat That Gold and Silver bravely I despise From the desire whereof all ills arise That do befall Mankind Seditious jars Slaughters and treacheries Rebellion Wars Things that ne'r touch my heart who little have Yet nothing want not more then little crave Thus stands the case with me and now you know Both my profession and my practice too All which is different from Common strains And from the opinion of Vulgar brains From whom no wonder we in habit do Differ since we in Principles do too But I admire at you who attribute T' all sorts of Men their habit and their suit To th' Harper his peculiar garb and so To the Tragedian his and yet you do No habit of distinction yet devise Or set apart for vertuous Men or wise But vainly think it fit that they should go Apparel'd as the fools and vulgar do A thing both ill and inconvenient too And certainly if any habit is Proper for th' good and wise 't is such as this I wear which the luxurious Gallants hate And more then Vice scorn and abominate My garment's course and rough and made of hair My hair's unshav'n and both my feet are bare Yours are like Pathicks spruce and finical Essoeminate Courtiers that cannot at all Be from the rout distinguished or known Nor by your habits difference nor your own Your garments soft like theirs and gay like theirs You wear as many as the gallant wears As various too in colour and in shapes As Protean as Jove in all 's escapes So gay your coats and cloaks so neat your shooes To trick and kemb your hair such art you use And so much time and cost thereon bestow To curl and powder't for the smell and show To tempt and cheat each other you that wou'd Have people think you 're happy wise and good Out-do the Vulgar in these vanities Those Vulgar which so proudly you despise Yet you must grant that they don't come behind In parts of body nor in gifts of mind The gay'st of you but are as strong to toyle As stout to fight as you whom lust can foyle And want on pleasures conquer and subdue As soon as those are least esteemed by you You in your meat drink sleep and your array Are as luxurious and vain as they You scorn forsooth to walk a foot but will By Beasts or by poor men be carry'd still Whil'st I without relenting can abide Both heats and colds and what ere can betide Us mortals and with equal mind I bear All things that God sends down what ere they are For which content you count me miserable Whereas you thriving worldlings are not able So to compose your souls to be content With your condition but do still relent Vex and repine in every State all that Is present you dislike still aiming at Things absent with great longing when you lye Cold in the Winter you for Summer cry And