borrows flames from your celestial eie To Clarastella upon a favour received from her which she tied in my hat MAdam the favour I received from you I have it in such high esteem That men might justly deem Me proud of it 'cause to the open view I wear it alwaies in my hat There to be wondred at Ruling in chief there in bright Majestie It doth command all caps to vail And say to it all hail As if they spi'd in that some Deitie The colours they are so divine And with such raies do shine As forreign ships yield homage whey they see Great Britains streamers spread on high And purpling all the skie So when these Rosie royal colours be Displaid then each Spectatour knows That they are yours and bows Juno's gay bird boasts not so brave a plume Nor in its greatest pride doth shine Like this fair flow'r of thine Me thinks I look like Memnon could assume A generals place and overthrow Englands resisting foe A Hector fit for Mars or Venus war Under these colours I could fight Me thinks both day and night Attempt bold deeds kil those my rivals are And through revenge on each black tongue That shal thy honour wrong Wonder not at this valour for I know Under your favour I would conquer you Clarastella's Indictment MY heart was slain when none was by But only you and I Durst it self do this act No a strange hand did shoot that dart Which peirc'd so deep my heart Nor could I do the fact Then I 'm o' th' fact acquitted now The guilt must lie on you I wil enquire no further The proof is plain the Boy that lies Hid in your cruel eies Did do this wicked murther Witness your lips all staind with red They speak who did the deed The Crimson bloud sticks there And makes them at each blush confess For they dare do no less And ory we guiltie are Your pale and self-accusing look As soon as ere he strook Proclam'd you accessorie And your distorted angry brow Your ful assent did show To make my death a Storie In your hearts trembling doth appear Your more than guilty fear You 'r by your tongue bewraid Which silently accusing tels That 't was by you none els My heart was first betraid By signs thus murther 's oft reveal'd Though it lie long conceal'd This doom I wish you then If stil a cruel mind you bear May each man prove when ere You love unkind agen On the loss of a Gold-open-ring in which some of Clarastella's hair was enclosed DEar Gold not in thy own self precious now But for that more intrinsic value thou Enclosest which rich treasure makes thee more Refin'd and hallow'd than thou wast before Though had that finger dropt thou once didst grace I had susteind that fatal loss with less Regret Farwel Yet thou dear Relique that Li'st here entombd and buried in this vaut Of Indian clay which now thy corps must hold Thou didst deserve a richer urn than gold May then that happy he shal find thee kiss And then adore this unknown Shrine of bliss Whose worth since he can never know but fear Some magick spels within and so not dare To wear thee thus afflicted may he bring It back to me and I 'l uncharm the Ring But thee in vain on earth I hope to see I le search the Heavens for there thou next wilt be And whereas Berenices hair was cut And at the Lyons seavn-stard tail was put Thy hair shal shine yet higher in his head And 's neck shal with this Ring be collared To Clarastella saying she would commit her selfe to a Nunnerie STay Clarastella prithee stay Recal those frantick vows again Wilt thou thus cast thy self away As wel as me in fond disdain Wilt thou be cruel to thy self chastise Thy harmless body 'cause your pow'rful eies Have charm'd my senses by a strange surprise Is it a sin to be belov'd If but the cause you could remove Soon the effect wou'd be remov'd Where Beautie is there wil be love Nature that wisely nothing made in vain Did make you lovely to be lov'd again And when such beauty tempts can love refrain When Heav'n was prodigal to you And you with beauties glory stor'd He made you like himself for view To be beheld and then ador'd Why should the Gold then fear to see that Sun That form'd it pure why should you live a Nun And hide those raies Heav'n gave to you alone Oh do not exile Natures bliss Do not Eclipse so great a Sun Imprison not a Paradise In a Religious dungeon Let the foul witch laze in her smokie cel Onely black toads in recluse vaults do dwel Fair Angels live in light the foul in Hel I know 't was you fair thief that stole My heart away nor thus content Your cruel eies then pickt a hole In that which ne'r before was rent And dost thou now this heart hence think to carrie Or being guilty darst no longer tarry And so to shreive thee fly'st to Sanctuarie Nor is this all your theft was higher Than was Prometheus who did take From Heav'n that quick inspiring fire Of clods us living men to make You to Heav'ns treasurie did find a way Where all the Beauties and the Virtues lay And thence by rapine didst them all convey Guiltie of which high sacrilege Dost thou now mean to satisfie The Gods and give thy body pledge To expi'ate thy souls theeverie Stay Votresse enter not this Nunnerie For thus thou wilt but draw more guilt on thee By tempting others to Idolatrie For when thy Glory they shal see Either they 'l all forget to pray Or what 's as bad they 'l pray to thee And turn devotion to play Nor wil the Gods unto thy prai'rs incline If thou shouldst stil continue deaf to mine Stay then fair Saint and make my bed thy shrine Thy self a holy Temple art Where Love shal teach us both to pray I 'l make an Altar of my heart And Incense on thy lips wil lay Thy mouth shal be my Oracle and then For beads we 'l tel our kisses o'r agen Til they breath'd from our souls shal cry Amen The Quaere What is Love 'T Is a child of Phansies getting Brought up between Hope and Fear Fed with smiles grown by uniting Strong and so kept by Desire 'T is a perpetual Vostal fire Never dying Whose smoak like Incense doth aspire Upwards flying It is a soft Magnetick stone Attracting hearts by sympathie Binding up close two souls in one Both discoursing secretlie 'T is the true Gordian knot that ties Yet ne'r unbinds Fixing thus two Lovers eies Aswel as minds 'T is the spheres heavenly harmonie Where two skilful hands do strike And every sound expressively Marries sweetly with the like 'T is the worlds everlasting chain That all things ti'd And bid them like the fixed wain Unmov'd to bide 'T is Natures law inviolate Confirm'd by mutual consent Where two dislike like love and hate Each to the
cause her feet are now Iambick made Refrigerium NOw through each vein my blood doth run Hot as the Summers scorching Sun Whilst on what side so è'r I turn With double frying flames I burn To cool both Aelna's first I 'l have An Arbour coole as is the grave And with green shadie branches wove As covert as Dodona's grove So that the Sun may not appear At all in this close Hemisphere With Curran-bushes I 'l hav 't made Vail'd o'r with Sycamores coole shade And mixt with Rasps and Cherrytrees Whose choice fruit may my pallat please I' th' midst of which next shal be spread Upon a large and spacious stead A frost-upon-green tabbie Quilt Water'd as if 't had there bin spilt Strew'd o'r with Roses where I may Naked my lazie limbs display And underneath't a Christal stream Of fresh Rose-water still'd from them Through th' limbeck of my body that My smelling Sense may recreate A marble Fountain next I 'l have Close by in a large hollow cave Springing with Nilus seav'nfold streams Til they all meet in one fair Thames Washing in whose pure waters we Diana and her Nymphs may see With other lively Pictures that My Seeing sense may recreate Next I wil have Arion play Upon a Dolphins back whose lay Shal teach each bird to chirp and trie How to excel his harmonie Orpheus his harp Apollo's lyre Shal with the Syrens fill the Quire With other sorts of Musick that My hearing Sense may recreate A Mirmaid next I 'l have in stead o th' Barber for to kemb my head All the four Winds too shal conspire With gentle breize to coole my fire Till I being fann'd with Ladies love Then their cold Sex shall colder prove Last because nought cools better then A Maid who warms and cooles agen I 'l have a young plump amorous Queen Ripe though she be not yet fifteen 'Twixt whose close arms and snowie breast I may diffuse my heat and rest Then bath my self in kisses that My Feeling Sense may recreate Thus when at once I all my Senses please Me thinks I feel my self in Paradise ELEGIES By Robert Heath Esquire LONDON Printed for HUMPHRY MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Shop at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. Elegies On the Death of the young and pious Ladie Mrs C. P. SO yong and ripe in judgement fit for heaven A Saint shee was on earth before eleven What Virtue was there lodg'd in this smal world Whose soul grew faster then the body could Sins shee had none but what curst Nature gave Yet e'r she knew 't shee long'd this world to leave Where but new enter'd she with pious rage Her Prologue spoke doth bravely quit the stage Oh happy growth that in so short a time This early blossome thus to heav'n could climb Epicedium On the beautiful Lady Mrs A. K. unfortunately drowned by chance in the Thames in passing the Bridge DRown'd and i' th' Thames oh how I grieve to see Such fair streams act so foul a Tragedie Not all thy main which twice a day doth flow Can wash this guilt from off thy conscious brow Like the dead sea thou look'st whilst every wave Thou wear'st now seems to be another grave Forgetful Lethe or the Stygian Lake As thou foul Tyber looks not halfe so black How horrid thou appear'st and thou dost tast Sowre and not half so pleasant as thou wast Rome now wil fear to drink thee since thou 'rt dyde With such chast guiltlesse blood and none wil ride More on thy ruder waves thy crueltie Since 't would not spare so fair a Saint as shee How I could flow with anger chide thee too But thou art innocent as pure I know 'Las 't was her Fate unhappy Destinie Thus to thy streams to adde more puritie Thou 'rt become white agen an Element Fit to receive a soul so innocent Whose body buried in thy Christal tomb Transparent lies scorning earths baser womb Gilt Tagus banks nor the Pectalian Can boast such Golden treasures as you can Thou didst but lend her to the Earth awhile Thou hast thy Pearl again now Thamis smile 'T is fit such gems should by the makers hands Shine thus transplanted to their native sands On the Death of the excellent fair Lady the Lady A. R. HOw blindly erting were those Painters that Did without eies grim Death delineate Did he not ayming shoot and shooting hit 'Midst the Arcadian Nymphs this fairest white This whitest Venus Dove without his light How had he found this mark or shot so right Thus as he aiming stood and in his heart Relenting doubted whether his fel dart He should or spare or send so long he gaz'd Upon her Beauties splendour all amaz'd That the bright raies she darted did so shine And dazle the beholding Archers eyne That whilst he trembling shot and made her light Extinct the beams of that put out his sight And so e'r since Death hath been blind indeed On her fair Tomb this Epitaph shal be read Beautie here on Death reveng'd Triumphant lies Whose Glories won all hearts put out all eies On the losse of Mr N. W. his three finggers cut off at the battel of Edgehil he being both a Poet and a Musitian BY some it hath been said That the best Musick is by discord made But here I grieve to see By discords we have lost our harmonie How cruel was that hand Depriv'd thee of thy cunning fingers and At one unhappy blow Cut off an Orpheus and a Poet too How sadly the strings rest E'r since those fingers which before exprest On them such lively art Were thus dissected from their constant part Yet though these joynts be gone To quiet ease two fingers stil are on Which with dexteritie Can write the Epitaph o' th' t'other three And though you cannot play Yet stil both sing and versifie you may Naenia Upon the death of my dear friend T. S. Esquire slain at the first fight at Newbery 1645. PAle Ghost I weep not 'cause thy precious blood Honour'd when spilt a cause so just so good Nor grieve I 'cause so much that suffer'd too I' th' losse of such a Champion as you This makes my heart afresh with thy wounds bleed A Loyal Subject and my friend is dead One whose unborrow'd native Wit proclaim'd Him sole Apollo's heire whose Vertues fam'd Him with Pandora's gifts endow'd whose parts Did stile him Master of all noble Arts One whose Youths sprightful valour did encline To acts Heroick without help of wine One who prefer'd the cause he had in hand Above his life before his fathers land One that was forward yet not desp'rate bold A coward in ill acts yet durst behold Death in his uglyest vizar This was Hee Who lov'd his friend and feard no Enemie Who nobly thus did seek an early grave Because he scorn'd to live a subjects slave Wide was the Orifice sure of thy large wound Els had thy great and gallant soul ne'r
just scales alike but because they Now blind with bribes are grown so weak of sight They 'l sooner feel a cause then see it right Of Love Sonnets WHy love so often theams each writers pen Is this 't is spreading Love o'rcomes all men Which sicknes though most would hide frō their friends Like Agues yet 't wil work at th' fingers ends To Sir Gregorie Nonsense WHen you to little purpose much do talk Repeating stil the same thing and I baulk Your weaker argument to avoid delay Angry you 'd have me hear you out you say I' have heard thee out too long where you ha' bin Wide from the purpose now le ts hear thee in To spend-fast a Gamster THe famous Lers of Belestat that flows And for four months doth ebb each hower shows What tides thy wavering fortune bears whilst you By play wax rich and wain as often too But Spend-fast this hath a full Sea to feed It 's thirstie current when it stands in need You han't an Ocean of wealth I think When all your bags grow drie to make them drink To the Ingenious Reader REader be wise and don't abuse the Poet Say not his wit is old stole or I know it If nought worth praise you here shal find or see Be silent then Hee 'l do as much for thee On Sullen Sullen wil eat no meat but peevishly Replies I care not nor I will not I Troth I commend his abstinence 't is great When having such a stomack hee 'l not eat To Pistor WHen Pistors bread is found too light 't is sent To the poor Prisoners for his punishment I not approve 't 't is Charity mistane Pistor youar ' stil an errant Knave in graine On a fruitful Merchants wife A Merchant newly married went to Sea Returning after three years voyage he Found his wife busied midst her children two And with a third as big as she could goe She to prevent a storme said husband you By Sea and I by land have travail'd too To a painted Whore AS rotten worms do breed in gilded books So thrives thy carkas under painted looks Who reads thy sou I shal find that too within In every line and letter black with sin To Brisk BRisk when thou r't drunk then in thy own conceit Thou r't Valiant Wise Great Honest Rich Discreet Infus'd at once so many qualities Oh Virtuous sack from whence all these arise Troth Brisk be alwaies drunk for wel I know When you are sober you are nothing so To Jeffry the Kings dwarfe SMal Sir me thinks in your lesse self I see Exprest the lesser worlds Epitomie You may write man i th' abstract so you are Though printed in a smaller Character The pocket volume hath as much within 't As the broad Folio in a larger print And is more useful too Though low you seem Yet you'ar both great and high in mens esteem Your soul 's as large as others so 's your mind To greatness Virtue 's not like strength confin'd To Overwise BEfore a feast is crackt he laughs and swears Good before oh apprehensive ears That do like lightning thus prevent the stroke And conceive thunder e'r the cloud is broke On Mounsieur Finedress SR. do but marke yon crisped Sir you meet How like a Pageant he doth stalk the street See how his perfum'd head is powderd o'r Twu'd stink else for it wanted salt before On Philautus PHilautus with himself is much in love Doth his own actions ever best approve Nay his own picture he doth look upon 'Cause 't is like him with admiration How wel may he be said and truly too To court a shadow he himself is so To Gripe GRipe to me all when he is dead wil give Wil part with nothing whilst he is alive What thanks is that to gape for dead mens shoos To give them only when you cannot chuse Give now 't is left then 'gainst your wil I know It is twice giv'n what living we bestow He leavs a good name who givs whilst he livs And only carries with him what he givs On Lurch the match-contriver LUrch th' old match-maker with his hunting nose All the young Heirs both Male and Female knows In town or Country widows too or men Once married he can help to wed agen Saves them the labour too of wooing whilst He bids the bans and sends them to the Priest For further copulation thus doth Lurch Prey on each party that he brings to Church But oh how oft this marriage-Pimp is curst 'Fore I 'd grow rich thus I 'd be hanged first To the Reader REader my Muse thinks not as beggars do Boldly with importunitie to wooe A farthing worth of praise no her desire Is only passing that you 'd look on her She proudly says on alms she scorns to live And as good as you bring she back wil give On Proud PRoud swels like Boreas with face red as fire And keeps a blustring stir in fuming ire So Rubies do resemble flames and yet Are neither hot or capable of heat Since ther 's no fire can warm them So art thou As cold with inward fear as hot in show 'T is but false fire thy seeming Passion givs Then thine there 's not a tamer spirit livs To his dear friend H. N. WIth what strange Philtrum's thou didst charm the wine Whose powr'ful influence made our souls combine And melt into our loving cups or how First thou didst win me to thee I not know Wast 'cause thou 'rt pleasant thinkst thou with discreet And harmless mirth setting an edge to wit Or 'cause thou 'rt liberal courteous and free The friend and Genius of the companie Was 't for thy person wealth or valour I So lov'd thee or was 't only sympathie Was 't this or altogether made me doate Upon thee first no sure nor this nor that I can no certain cause assign thee why But this I love thee without reason I. To Gripe and Holdclose GRipe sais Rags cloaths are lousie but Holdclose Sais they 'r so poor they are not worth a louce Though your phrase differ thus agree you may Give him fresh cloaths hee l shift his lice away To Gallus WHat 's in three bellies in one day wu'dst know 'T is the new egge thou eatst each morning to Thy breakfast first 't was in the hens and then In thine at night 't is in thy hen's agen On Bib. BIbs in a feaver alwaies hot and drie Yet I ne'r saw him sick the reason why Lifes liquor sack he drinks whose healthful sp'rit Expels both sickness death and fear of it Oh never dying juyce of th' pow'rful vine Thou makst men like thy Immortal self divine Of Loving Husbands WE observe each loving Husband when the wife Is labouring by a strange reciproque strife Doth sympathizing sicken and 't may be In Law their one and in Divinity On Luscus LUscus is never wel but changing stil And though he loose by th' bargain change he wil No marle he 's grown so
poor how shud he els Too dear he buys repentance when he sels On Stut THe more Stut strives to speak he stams the more But his cold tongue wel oyld and hot with store Of wine he speaks not like an Oracle then But much and loud and plain as other men Such Eloquence hath pow'rful wine but he Drinks oft til he can neither speak nor see The Remedie here is worse then the disaese Better then none a tongue imperfect is On the strange Death of Eschylus a Poet ESchylus foretold by a diviner he By th' downfal of a house should ruind be Fondly that day to 'void this Destinie Did keep the field not yet resolv'd to die There as he stood a Faulcon in his beak Having a Tortoys which he meant to break Suppos'd his bald pate as he barehead stood To be a stone on which to get his food He let it fal the Tortoys did remain By this chance safe and Eschylus was slain Oh the unalterd Persian Laws of fate Whose fixt decrees none can anticipate Bald Poets hence prove mortal whilst that crown Whose radiant temples laureat with renown And deckt with tresses like Apollo's brows Is safe from Envies crack or Deaths fel blows On Cob. FRom th' College Cob sent to the Ius of Court Half codled wu'd seem wise though he pay for 't A pretty study he hath fil'd with books Yet he in that or them but seldom looks Not to him but his heire Cob learning buys These are Cobs new Fee simple purchases On Cleopatra RIch cleopatra striving to outvie In luxuries excess Mark Anthonie A Pearl in value worth three hundred crown Dissolv'd in vinegar first did swallow down At one proud draught and but prevented wu'd At the next draught have swallowed one as good Oh monstrous stomack that could in one houre Consume an Empire and a State devoure On an Inveighing Poetaster SEe where a snarling Scribler doth inveigh In toothless jeasts against my Poesie The toothach sure torments his head and wit Which makes him show his teeth that cannot bite Bees when they wound disarm themselvs this Caâ—â— So breaks his teeth when he doth biting snarle The Dedication to Momus I To Maecenas dedicate my book Hee 'l read it with no supercilious look To each Ingenious Reader I transmit The same he best knows how to judge of it To th' simple that he may admire't I give Whom 'cause he understands not I forgive To all my Poetizing friends I send it But to you only Momus I commend it On Dul. DUl readeth much many a leaf turns o'r Yet grows no wiser than he was before Can tel you many Authors names by roat Which upon all occasions he wil quoat Forgets the text which he ne'r understood Thus he eats much but cann't disgest his food Be not too greedie Dul first learn to spel Who rides too fast at first he rides not wel On Accismus FOolish Accismus hath a qualitie To deny offer'd things in modestie By chance one offer'd him an injurie He took it Bless me what a fool was he On Tucca. Tucca e'r while went to a Bawdy house Where for his entrance he not paid a sous Oh conscience Tucca las it is their trade I care not he replies I 'm sure I 'm paid 'T is just who e'rs caught stealing in the act If he scape death shu'd be burnt for the fact To Rash RAsh swear not think not 'cause you swear that I Believe you no he that wil swear will lie To Crispinus CRispinus 'cause you lately writ a play And then didst put 't in print the other day You think your self to be a profest Poet And where you come believe that all men know it By which smal work you now are grown so proud That now you dare amidst the Homers croud And 'cause you' have sipt a little think you' are free o th' learned Arts and of their companie Intrude not yet Crispinus thou 'rt not fit For th' Muses quire thine is but suburb wit On Howdee WHen at the Court a fashions quite wore out And come to Longlane walks the town about Then doth my Ladies Howdee get intoi't And thinks him gallant in this new old suite No matter Howdee thou r't in fashion yet For though a great way off thou follow'st it To Brave VVHer'er he comes Brave like a Valiant Scot Freely discharges all and paies the shot Else none wu'd care for 's idle companie When th' reck'ning comes then Brave I 'l send for thee On Venterwit HE scrapes up verses shows them up and down And where they are likt he saies they are his own If none commend them then he swears he found Them by chance walking in the Temple round He by chance met with some of mine which he Had spoild with interlining ribauldrie Who showing askt we how I like't the strein I told him 't was a poor and empty vein He wondring at my censure boldly said They were the best lines that he ever made Yes so they were I told him 'fore the text Was by his comment thus perplext Fool thou 'rt discover'd therfore take advise Spoil mine no more or I 'l proclaim thy lies On Braggadochio Cit. CIt now he 's rich doth boast his Pedigree How he 's allied to this great familie And to'ther whom as customers he knew Thus both his kinred and acquaintance grew Peace Cit or I 'l proclaim thy stock I know That no more arms poor thou then legs can'st show On Wylde WYlde drinks to drown his sorrows and 't may be The more he drinks the more foregetful he On Childish love CHildren their mothers more than fathers love The cause is plain the fathers often prove Uncertain and unknown and so it is For who can love what he nor knows nor sees On Mr Spendall I Asked Spendall why he spent so fast Why he his coin did so profusely wast Hee repli'd moneys were but crosses to him And gold a gilded bait that would undo him Why he sold all his land I askt agen Hang 't 't was but durt why should he keep it then To purchase Heav'n he wou'd sel that and moe Where til he left his earth he could not goe Then why he sold his bed troth hee did tell Mee whilst he kept his bed he ne'r was well At last I askt him why his clothes he sold All to his naked shirt he was he told Me now about to bid to every friend And th' world good-night and so hee made his end Troth Spendall I do like each smart reply But not thy witty foolish povertie On Lawyer Say-much SAymuch by chance in 's feet had got the gout Yet pleaded stil there hee wou'd ne'r be out But talkt apace though his feet gouty bee Yet hee may have a running tongue I see To Medicus on Tucca. WHen Tucca's sick then straight he sends for thee Look to his water hee 'l give nothing hee To Vetus an old Antiquary VEtus upon a Manuscript doth pore Tiring himself in