to move Yet men more sensless you provoke to love I can't but think spite of the filth that 's hurl'd Over this small Ench'ridion of the World A day will break when we again may see Wits like themselves club in an Harmony Though Pulpiteers can't do it yet 't is fit Poets have more success because more wit Their Prose unhing'd the State why may'nt your verse Polish those souls that were fil'd rough by theirs Go on and prosper though I want your skill In weighty matters 't is enough to will And now the Reader looks I should help rear Your glories Trophy else what make I here 'T is not to praise you for one may as well Go tell Committees that there is an Hell Or tell the World there is a Sun as praise Your amorous fancy which it self can't raise 'Bove Envies reach or flatteries Ladies love To kiss those accents who dares disapprove What they stile good our lines our lives and all By their opinions either rise or fall Therefore the cause why these are fixed here Is livery-like to shew some great man's near Let them stand bare and usher not commend They are not for Encomiums but t' attend XLIX To his Friend Thomas Stanley Esq on his Odes Set and Published by Mr. John Gamble STanley the Darling of Apollo thou That mak'st at once both Verse and Musick too So sweet a Master of so sweet a Muse Whom not to name with honour were t' abuse How thy words flow How sweetly do they Chyme When thy pure Couplets do imbrace in Rhyme How quick how lovely and how full of Sence Thy Fancy is and all that springs from thence Which Gamble has enliv'ned by his Art And breath ' an Active Soul through every part And so deduc'd thy Mind to us that we May feast our Ears and Souls with rarity How much to Thee how much to Him we owe We can conceive but cannot make you know Nor have we thanks proportion'd to your worth Thou that didst make and He that set them forth In such a lively Dress too We admire What we cann't praise what we cann't do Desire And therefore turn our praises into prayers That Thou 'lt make more such Odes He more such Ayres I. On the famous Romance called The innocent Impostor 'T Will be expected now that I should raise Some Monument unto the Author's praise The Works or the Translators else I fear The Reader 'll wonder what I do make here 'T is grown Apocryphal and by the Wits Quite voted down Who hold it not befits A true-born Fancy to be Smith-field-wise Put off with Toll and Vouchâ—rs this defies Such Cruâ—ches for 't is of so clear a Nature 'T will pass without the Chaplains Imprimatur Or our Certificates Besides I carry Such a dislike to all things Customary I 'll cheat all expectation and will be Thankful to them but chiefly unto thee In these Self-ended times we only do Or thank or praise those we 're beholding to So call our Justice Charity and say We do bestow when we do only pay For though the work be rare yet should it be Still in its dress what had it been to me And though translated by this worthy pen If not exposed to the view of Men I had ne'r seen 't perhaps But since all three Have clubb'd in this production I must be Grateful to all and to give all your right Must praise and love and thank Bellay Dod Wright LI. On Dr. J. his divine Romant HOw rare how truly noble's this designe To make us fall in love with things Divine And raise our passions with such pious flames To court those truths which lay disguis'd in names Perplex'd and crabbed and did heretofore Lâ—e undiscovered in their sullen Ore And seem'd unamiable to the sense ' Cause unattainable but by th' expence Of undelightsome labour and much time This new invention expiates the crime Which did too much adhere to youthful love Directs the soul to doat on things above And consecrates th' affections to extend Their violent motion to their proper end The ravish'd Puipit which of late was made A place not of instruction but of trade Where Higlers in Divinity did sell Salvation to us and made heaven and hell At their disposal and the way to bliss More hard and crabbed then it ought or is And did advance the people or condemn To this or that just as we humour'd them Made some those heavenly dishes to derest And loath ' cause they so nastily were drest But this ingenuous Author makes that food Delightsome to the taste as well as good And with such flowers the paths to virtue strews That the dull soul to heav'n delighted goes What love what praise what great reward is fit To his great worth who with Câ—lestial wit Informs and sanctifies our minds and brings Our souls above these low terrestrial things A crown of Stars must deck his learned brow The lawrel Garland's too unworthy now LII On the loss of a Garrison ANother City lost Alas poor King Still future griefs from former griefs do spring The World 's a seat of change Kingdoms and Kings Though glorious are but sublunary things Crosses and blessings kiss there 's none that be So happy but they meet with misery He that ere while sate centred to his Throne And all did homage unto him alone Who did the Scepter of his power display From pole to pole while all this rule obey From stair to stair now tumbles tumbles down And scarce one pillar doth support his Crown Town after Town are lost Field after Field This turns and that persidiously doth yield He 's banded on the trayterous tongues of those That Janus like look to him and his foes In vain are Bulwarks and the strongest Hold If the besiegers bullets are of gold My soul be not dejected wouldst thou be From present trouble or from danger free Trust not in rampires nor the strength of walls The town that stands to day to morrow falls Trust not in Souldiers though they seem so stout Where sin 's within vain is defence without Trust not in wealth for in this lawless time Where prey is penalty there wealth is crime Trust not in strength or courage we all see The weak'st oft-times do gain the victory Trust not in honour honour 's but a blast Quickly begun and but a while doth last They that to day to thee Hosanna cry To morrow change their note for Crucisie Trust not in friends for friends will soon deceive thee They are in nothing sure but sure to leave thee Trust not in wits who run from place to place Changing Religion as chance does her face In spâ—te of cunning and their strength of brain They 're often catch'd and all their plots are vain Trust not in Councels Potentates or Kings All are but frail and transitory things Since neither Souldiers Casties wealth or wit Can keep off harm from thee or thee from it Since neither strength nor honour
heart to thee SONG XVIII Reasons of Love 1. PRethee why dost thou love me so Or is it but in show What is there that your thoughts can pick about me If beauty in my face you view 'T was ne're writ there unless by you I little find within nor you without me 2. I ha'nt the Rhetorick of the foot Nor lean long leg to boot Nor can I court with congees trips and dances I seldom sing or if I do You 'll scarce tell whe'r I sing or no I can't endure Love-stories and Romances 3. I neither know nor love to play And fool my time away Nor talk in Dialects to please your fancy Nor carve the Capon or the Quail But hew it through from head to tail A complement to me is Negromancy 4. I boast not of a pedigree That Lords or Lordlings be Nor do I lace my name with Grandsires story Nor will I take the pains to look For a fools coat i' th' Heralds book My fame 's mine own no monumental glory 5. I am not fashion'd of the mode Nor rant i' th Gallants rode Nor in my habit do observe decorum Perfumes shall not my breath belie Nor clothes my body glorifie They shall derive their honour ' cause I wore 'um 6. No frizling nor scarce locks and yet Perhaps more hair than wit Nor shall Sweet-powders vanity delight you Though my hairs little I 'le not carry A wig for an Auxiliary If my locks can't anothers shant invite you 7. And which is worse I cannot woe With Gold as others doe Nor bait your love with Lordships Lands and Towers Just so much money I have by As serves to spoil my poetry Not to expose me to the higher powers 8. Nay you shan't make a fool of me Though I no Statist be Nor shall I be so valiant to fight for ye I han't the patience to court Nor did I e're do 't but in sport I won't run mad for love nor yet go marry 9. And yet I know some cause does move Though it be not pure love 'T is for your honours sake that you affect me For well you know she that 's my Lass Is canoniz'd in every glass And her health 's drunk by all that do respect me 10. Then love thou on I 'le tipple till Both of us have our fill And so thy name shall never be forgotten I 'll make thee Hellen's fame survive Though she be dead and thou alive For though thou' rt not so old thy heart 's as rotten SONG XIX Epithalamy 1. NAy fie Platonicks still adoring The fond Chymaera's of your brain Still on that empty nothing poring And only follow what you faign Live in your humour 't is a curse So bad 't were pity wish a worse We 'll banish such conceits as those Since he that has enjoyment knows More bliss then Plato could suppose 2. Cashiered woers whose low merit Could ne're arrive at nuptial bliss Turn Schismaticks in love whose spirit Would have none hit ' cause they do miss But those reproaches that they vent Do only blaze their discontent Condemn'd mens words no truth can show And Hunters when they prove too slow Cry Hares are dry meat let 'um go 3. Th' inamour'd youth whose flaming breast Makes Goddesses and Angels all In 's contemplation finds no rest For all his joyes are sceptical At his fruition flings away His Cloris and his Welladay And gladly joyns to fill our Quire Who to such happiness aspire As all must envy or admire SONG XX. An Ode of Anacreon paraphrased Beauties force I Wonder why Dame Nature thus Her various gifts dispences She every creature else but us With arms or armour fences The Bull with bended horns she arms With hoofs she guards the Horse The Hare can nimbly run from harms All know the Lyons force 2. The Bird can danger fly on 's wing She Fish with fins adorns The Cuckold too that harmless thing His patience guards and 's horns And Men she valiant makes and wise To shun or baffle harms But to poor Women she denies Armour to give or arms 3. Instead of all this she does do Our Beauty she bestows Which serves for arms and armour too ' Gainst all our pow'rful Foes And 't is no matter so she doth Still beautious faces yield Wee 'l conquer sword and fire for both To beauty leave the field SONG XXI Love 's without Reason 1. 'T Is not my Ladies face that makes me loue her Though beauty there doth rest Enough t' inflame the breast Of one that never did discover The glories of a face before But I that have seen thousands more See nought in hers but what in others are Only because I think she 's fair she 's fair 2. 'T is not her vertues nor those vast perfections That crowd together in her Ingage my soul to win her For those are only brief Collections Of what 's in man in folio writ Which by their imitative wit Women like Apes and Children strive to do But we that have the substance slight the show 3. 'T is not her birth her friends nor yet her treasure My free-born soul can hold For chains are chains though gold Nor do I court her for my pleasure Nor for that old Moralitie Do I love her ' cause she loves me For that 's no love but gratitude and all Loves that from fortunes rise with fortunes fall 4. If friends or birth created love within me Then Princes I 'll adore And only scorn the poor If vertue or good parts could win me I 'll turn Platonick and ne're vex My soul with difference of sex And he that loves his Lady ' cause she 's fair Delights his eye so loves himself not her 5. Reason and Wisdom are to love high treason Nor can he truly love Whose flame 's not far above And far beyond his wit or reason Then ask no reason for my fires For infinite are my desires Something there is moves me to love and I Do know I love but know not how nor why SONG XXII The Damosel 1. SInce Women are still By-pretenders to skill Suppos'd to be sway'd by their will And not by their judgment nor reason Then it shall be mine To uphold the design In spite of the hits Of the fellows call'd Wits That jeer every thing that 's in season 2. Though youthful I be And buxome to see And suppos'd to be frolick and free And ripe for the thing you wot on I 'll not sacrific'd be To the Ginger-bread he Whose cloathes are in print And his hair has butter in 't And his fancies and whimseys has got on 3. For the Youth in their bud That do sail in the sloud Of their active and flaming bloud Like furious undertakers Are fiery at first But have soon done their worst Then they shrink their heads in And care not a pin For the sport nor yet the sport-makers 4. But give me that he That is threescore and three And can neither hear smell or see He
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
Jockie our stirrup shall hold The City 's our Mule for example That we may in plenty be roul'd Each delicate dish Shall but Eccho our wish And our drink shall be cordial gold SONG XIX On Canary 1. OF all the rare juices That Bacchus or Ceres produces There 's none that I can nor dare I Compare with the princely Canary For this is the thing That a fancy infuses This first got a King And next the nine Muses 'T was this made old Poets so sprightly to sing And fill all the world with the glory and fame on 't They Helicon call'd it and the Thespian-spring But this was the drink though they knew not the name on 't 2. Our Sider and Perry May make a man mad but not merry It makes people windmill-pated And with crackers sophisticated And your hops yest and malt When they 're mingled together Makes our fancies to halt Or reel any whither It stuffs up our brains with froth and with yest That if one would write but a verse for a Bel-man He must study till Christmas for an shilling-jest These liquors won't raise but drown and o'rewhelm man 3. Our drousie Metheglin Was only ordain'd to enveigle in The Novice that knows not to drink yet But is fudled before he can think it And your Claret and White Have a Gun-powder fury They 're of the French spright But they wont long endure you And your holiday Muscadine Allegant and Tent Have only this property and vertue that 's fit in 't They 'l make a man sleep till a preachment be spent But we neither can warm our bloud nor our wit in ' 〈…〉 4. The Bagrag and Rhenish You must with ingredients replenish 'T is a wine to please Ladies and toyes with But not for a man to rejoyce with But 't is Sack makes the sport And who gains but that flavour Though an Abbess he court In his high shooes he I have her 'T is this that advances the drinker and drawer Though the father came to Town in his hob-nails and leather He turns it to Velvet and brings up an Heir In the Town in his â—hain in the field with his feather SONG XX. The Leveller 1. NAy prethee don't fly me But sit thee down by me I cannot endure A man that 's demure Go hang up your Worships and Sirs Your congies and trips With your legs and your lips Your Madams and Lords And such finikin words With the complements you bring That do spell NO-THING You may keep for the chains and the furs For at the beginning was no Peasant or Prince And 't was policy made the distinction since 2. Those Titles of honours Do remain in the Donours And not in that things To which they do cling If his soul be too narrow to wear 'um No delight can I see In that word call'd degree Honest Dick sounds as well As a name of an ell That with titles doth swell And sounds like a spell To affright mortail ears that hear ' um He that wears a brave soul and dares gallantly do May be his own Herald and Godfather too 3. Why then should we doat on One with a fools coat on Whose Coffers are cram'd But yet he 'l be damn'd Ere he 'l do a good act or a wise one What Reason has he To be ruler o'r me That 's a Lord in his chest But in 's head and his breast Is empty and bare Or but puff'd up with air And can neither assist nor advise one Honour 's but air and proud flesh but dust is 'T is we Commons make Lords and the Clerk makes the Justice 4. But since men must be Of a different degree Because most do aspire To be greater and higher Then the rest of their fellows and brothers He that has such a spirit Let him gain it by 's merit Spend his brain wealth or blood For his Countreys good And make himself fit By his valour or wit For things 'bove the reach of all others For honour ' s a prize and who wins it may wear it If not 't is a badge and a burthen to bear it 5. For my part let me Be but quiet and free I 'll drink Sack and obey And let great ones sway Who spend their whole time in thinking I 'll ne'r busie my pate With secrets of State The News-books I 'll burn all And with the Diurnal Light Tobacco and admit That they 're so far fit As they serve good company and drinking All the name I desire is an honest Good-fellow And that man has no worth that won't sometimes be mellow SONG XXI The Royallists Answer 1. I Have reason to fly thee And not sit down by thee For I hate to behold One so sawcy and bold To deride and contemn his superiours Our Madams and Lords And such mannerly words With the gestures that be Fit for every degree Are things that we and you Both claim as our due From all those that are our inferiours For from the beginning there were Princes we knoâ— 'T is you Levellers hate 'um ' cause you can't be 〈…〉 2. All Titles of honours Were at first in the donours But being granted away With the Grantee stay Whe'r he wear a small soul or a bigger There 's a necessity That there should be degree Whe'r 't is due we 'l afford A Sir John and my Lord Though Dick Tom and Jack Will serve you and your pack Honest Dick's name enough for a Digger He that has a strong purse can all things be or do He is valiant and wise and religious too 3. We have cause to adore That man that has store Though a Bore or a sot There 's something to be got Though he be neither honest nor witty Make him high let him rule He 'l be playing the fool And transgress then we 'l squeeze Him for fines and for fees And so we shall gain By the wants of his brain 'T is the fools-cap that maintains the City If honour be air 't is in common and as fit For the fool and the clown as for the champion or the wit 4. Then why may'nt we be Of different degree And each man aspire To be greater and higher Then his wiser and honester brother Since Fortune and Nature Their favours do scatter This hath valour that wit T'other wealth nor i' st fit That one should have all For then what would befall Him that 's born not to one nor to t'other Though honour were a prize at first now 't is a chattel And as merchantable grown as your wares or your cattel 5. Yet in this we agree To live quiet and free To drink Sack and submit And not shew our wit By our prating but silence and thinking Let the politick Jews Read Diurnals and News And lard their discourse With a Comment that 's worse That which pleaseth me best Is a song or a Jest And my obedience I 'll shew by my drinking He that drinks well does sleep well he that sleeps welâ— doth
all agree there is nothing can harm us SONG XLIII The Advice 1. HE that a happy life would lead In these dayes of distraction Let him listen to me and I will read A lecture without faction Let him want three things Whence misery springs All which do begin with a letter Let him bound his desires With what nature requires And with reason his humours fetter 2. Let not his Wealth prodigious grow For that breeds cares and dangers Makes him hated above and envyed below And a constant slave to strangers He is happiest of all Whose estate is but small Yet enough to delight and maintain him He may do he may say Having nothing to pay It will not quit costs to arraign him 3. Nor must he be clogg'd with a Wife For houshold cares incumber And do to one place confine a mans life ' Cause he can't remove his lumber They 're happiest by far Who unwedded are And forrage on all in common From all storms they can fly And if they should dy They ruine nor child nor woman 4. Nor let his brains o'rflow with wit That capers oâ—â—'s discretion 'T is costly to keep and 't is hard to get And 't is dangerous in the possession They are happiest men Who can scarce tell ten And beat not their brains about reason They may speak what will serve Themselves to preserve And their words are ne'r taken for treason 5. But of all fools there is none like the Wit For he takes pains to shew it When his pride or his drink work him into a fit Then straight he must be a Poet Then his Jests he flings Both at States and at Kings For Applause and for Bayes and Shadows Thinks a verse saves as well As a circle or a spell 'Till he rhithmes himself to the Barbadoes 6. He that within these bounds can live May baffle all disasters To Fortune and Fates commands he may give Which worldlings make their masters He may sing he may laugh He may dance he may quaff May be mad may be sad may be jolly He may sleep without care And wake without fear And laugh at the whole world and its folly BALLADS I. The Satyr of Money 1. IT is not the Silver or Gold of its self That makes men adore it but 't is for its power For no man does dote upon pelf because pelf But all court the Lady in hopes of her Dower The wonders that now in our daies we behold Done by th' irresistible power of Gold Our Love and our Zeal and Allegiance do mould 5. This purchaseth Kingdoms Kings Scepters Crowns Wins Battels and conquers the Conquerors bold Takes Bulwarks and Castles and Armies and Towns Our prime Laws are written in letters of Gold 'T is this that our Parliaments calls and creates Turns Kings into Keepers and Kingdoms to States And Peopledoms this into High-doms translates 3. This plots doth devise then discovers what th' are This makes the great folons the lesser condemn Sets those on the bench that should stand at the bar Who judge such as by right ought to execute them Gives the boystrous Clown his unsufferable pride Makeâ— Beggers and â—â—ols and usurpers to â—ide While ruin'd properties run by their side 4. Stamp either the arms of the State or the King St. George or the breeches C. R. or O. P. The Cross and the fiddle 't is all the same thing This still is the Queen who e're the King be This lines mens Religion builds doctrines and truth With zeal and the spirit the factious endu'th To club with St. Katherine or sweet sister Ruth 5. This made our black Senate to sit still so long To make themselves rich by making us poor This made our bold Army so daring and strong And that made them drive 'um like Geese out of door 'T was this made the Covenant-makers to make it And this made our Levites to make us to take it And this made both makers and takers forsake it 6. This spawn'd the dunghil crew of Committees and ' Strators Who lived by picking their Parliaments Gums This made and then prospered Rebels and Traytors And made Gentry of those that were the Nations scums This Herald gives arms not for merit but store Gives Coats unto such as did sell coats before If their nockers be lin'd but with Argent and Or. 7. 'T is this makes the Lawyer give judgment and pledd On this side or that side on both sides or neither This makes Yeomen Clerks that can scarce write or read And spawns arbitrary orders as various as the weather This makes the blew-lecturor pray preach and prate Without reason or truth against K. Church or State To shew the thin lyning of his twice-cover'd paâ—e 8. 'T is this that makes Earls Lords Knights Esquires Without breeding discent wit learning or merit Makes Ropers and Ale-drapers Sheriffs of Shires Whose trade 's not so low nor so base as their spirits This Justices makes and wise ones we know Furr'd Aldermen likewise and Mayors also Makes the old wife to trot and makes the Mare go 9. This makes the blew aprons write themselves worshipful And for this we stand bare and before 'um do fall They leave their young Heirs well fleeced with wool whom we 're to call Squires and they 're to pay all Who with beggarly souls though their bodies are gawdy Court the pale Chamber-maid and nick-name her a Lady And for want of discourse they do swear and talk baudy 10. For money mens lives may be purchas'd and sold 'T is money breaks laws and that mends 'um again Men venture their quiet and safety for gold When they won't stir a foot their rights to maintain This Doctors createth of Dunces and those Commanders that use to pollute their hose This buyes the spruce gallant his verse and his prose 11. This marriages makes 't is the centre of love It draws on the man and it pricks up the woman Birth vertue and parts no affection can move While this makes Lords bow to the brat of a Broom-man Gives vertue and beauty to the lass that you woe Makes women of all sorts and ages to do 'T is the soul of the world and the worldling too 12. This horses procures you and hawks hounds and hares 'T is this keeps your Groom and your Groom keeps your Geldings It buyes Citizens wives as well as their wares And makes your coy Ladies so coming and yielding This buyes us good Sack which revives like the spring This gives the poetical fancies their wing This makes you as merry as we that do sing 11. Upon a Sign-post set up at Skoale in Norfolk 1. DId none of you hear Of a wonder last year That through all Norfolk did ring Of an Inn and an Host With a Sign and a post That might hold God bless us the King 2. The building is great And very compleat But cann't be compar'd to the sign But within doors I think 's scarce a drop of good drink For
the best of the Nation Are all for the King by a new translation He that won't believe 't is a Jew 3. The poor Caveliers thought all was their own And now was their time to sway But friends they have few and money they 've none And so they mistook their way When they seek for preferments the Rebels do rout ' um And having no money they must go without 'um The Courtiers do carry such stomachs about 'um They speak no English but PAY 4. And those very rebels that hated the King And no such office allow By the help of their boldness and one other thing Are brought to the King to bow And there both pardons and honours they have with which they think they 're secure and brave But the title of Knight on the back of a Knave 〈…〉 's like a saddle upon a sow 5. Those men are but fools as matters now stand That would not be Rebels and Traytors To grow rich and rant o'r the best of the land And tread on the poor Cinque Quaters To do what they list and none dare complain To rise from a cart and drive Charles his wain And for this be made Lords and Knights in grain O 't is sweet to ambitious natures 6. If the times turn about 't is but to comply And make a formal submission And with every new power to live and die Then they are in a safe condition For none are condemned but those that are dead Nor must be secur'd but those that are fled And none but the poor rogues sequestred The great ones buy remission 7. The Fortieth part of their riches will Secure t'other thirty nine And so they will keep above us still But hang 't we 'l ne'r repine The Devil does into their natures creep That they can no more from their villany keep Then a Wolfe broke loose can from killing of sheep Or a Poet refrain from wine 8. Now Heaven preserve our Merciful King And continue his grace and pity And may his prosperity be like a spring And stream from him to the City May James and George those Dukes of renown Be the two supporters of Englands Crown And may all honest men enjoy what 's their own And so I conclude my ditty XIV The Holy Pedler 1. FRom a Forraign shore I am not come to store Your Shops with rare devices No drugs do I bring from the Indian King No Peacocks Apes nor Spices Such wares I do show As in England do grow And are for the good of the Nation Let no body fear To deal in my ware For Sacriledge now 's in fashion 2. I the Pedler am That came from Amsterdam With a pack of new Religions I did every one fit According to 's wit From the Tub to Mahomets pigeons Great trading I found For my spiritual ground Wherein every man was a medler I made people decline The learned Divine And then they bought Heaven of the Pedler 3. First Surplices I took Next the Common-prayer-book And made all those Papists that us'd 'um Then the Bishops and Deans I strip'd of their means And gave it to those that abus'd ' um The Clergy-men next I withdrew from their Text And set up the gifted brother Thus Religion I made But a matter of trade And I car'd nor for one or t'other 4. Then Tythes I fell upon And those I quickly won 'T was prophane in the Clergy to take 'um But they serv'd for the Lay Till I sold them away And so did Religious make 'um But now come away To the Pedler I pray I scorn to rob or cozen If Churches you lack Come away to my pack Here 's thirteen to the dozen 5. Church Militants they be For now we do see They have fought so long with each other The Rump's Churches threw down Those that stood for the Crown And sold them to one another Then come you factious crue Here 's a bargain now for you With the spoils of the Church you may revel Now pull down the bells And then hang up your selves And so give his due to the Devil XV. A Serious Ballade written in 1645. I Love my King and Countrey well Religion and the Laws Which I 'm mad at the heart that e're we did sell To buy the good Old Cause These unnatural wars And brotherly jars Are no delight or joy to me But it is my desire That the wars should expire And the King and his Realms agree 2. I never yet did take up arms And yet I dare to dye But I 'll not be seduc'd by phanatical charms Till I know a Reason why Why the King and the State Should fall to debate I ne'r could yet a reason see But I find many one Why the wars should be done And the King and his Realms agree 3. I love the King and the Parliament But I love them both together And when they by division asunder are rent I know 't is good for neither Which so e'r of those Be victorious I 'm sure for us no good 't will be For our plagues will encrease Unless we have peace And the King and his Realms agree 4. The King without them can't long stand Nor they without the King 'T is they must advise and 't is he must command For their power from his must spring 'T is a comfortless sway Where none will obey If the King han't's right which way shall we They may Vote and make Laws But no good they will cause Till the King and his Realms agree 5. A pure Religion I would have Not mixt with humane wit And I cannot endure that each ignorant knave Should dare to meddle with it The tricks of the Law I would faign withdraw That it may be alike to each degree And I faign would have such As do meddle so much With the King and the Church agree 6. We have pray'd and pay'd that the wars might cease And we be free men made I would fight if my fighting would bring any peace But war is become a trade Our servants did ride with swords by their side And made their Masters foot-men be But we will be no more slaves To the beggars and knaves Now the King and the Realms do agree XVI An Ode Written in 1643. WHat 's this that shrouds WIn these Opacous clouds The glorious face of heav'n and dims our light What must we ever lye Mantled in dark stupidity Still groveling in a daily night And shall we have no more the sun allow'd Why does the Sun grow dim or do the stars grow proud 2. Why should false zeal Thus scorch our common-weal And make us slight bright Phaebus purer fires Why do these plannets run They would but cannot be the Sun Yet every saucy flame aspires Though they 've no reason to affect the same Since they have nought of fire but the meer rage and name 3. Now since our Sun Has left this Horizon Can all the stars though by united pow'r Undark the night Or equal him
do A handsome person with neat band Small cuffs white gloves smooth tongue and hand If both a Doctour and a Priest What Lady 's able to resist You may talk bawdy freely then Before coy women and old men And be of no Religion too Yet profess all as others do While the poor Poet tugs for wit To make men laugh at him and it And nothing gets by all his pain But censures various and vain From such as say they Judges are And yet did never plead at bar Undo their malice that condemn Let them write while we laugh at them A Poem I have sent thee here That dies if thou shouldst be severe And cause I have none worth sending down I 've bought one cost me half a crown And Brome's Playes which good must be Because they were approv'd by thee All which I hope will bring me back What all so Love and I so lack When my glass Beads to India come They 'l bring me Pearls and Diamonds home And thou wilt like the powers above Return a blessing for a Dove VI. The Answer MY Friend in troth I 'm glad to hear That noise of Clients fills thy ear Be sure let them not soon agree Before thou art well greas'd with fec If thou wantest coyn the Cockneys Guild-hall Or Westminster will to thee yield all Prithee sleece each City Cox-comb When they for law to th' Hall in flocks come Make them pawn their garments wedding Their Cup-boards Hangings and their bedding That when another Parliament Shall borrow for the good intent Of zeal upon the faith call'd publick They may be poor and mangie Job-like That when again the Pulpit clawes Them to send plate into the Cause Their spoons and rings to th' Hall of Grocers Their very wives may cry out no Sirs But why dost bid me come to thee I have no term there nor no fee What should a Scholar do at London But to spend money and be undone When here with us a whole daies expence Will not swell up beyond one six pence When we can play and laugh and drink And still the money slowly shrink When we here talk o' th' State as boldly As ever the Mercurius told lye When we of policy are still chattering All which 't is true we owe to Mat. Wren When we know all the Pretty sputher Betwixt the one house and the other When we can over one full flagon Relieve or plunder Coppen-hagen When we do know what is what not is Related in the Hall where Scottish Rags once call'd colours still remain Tell me what profit 't is or gain For me to take such useless pain To come and hear all there again But yet remember now I promise And will perform as sure as Rome is Near Easter term like arrow swift I Will ride up to thee miles full fifty ' Shalt see me come on Oxford beast Which shall have one good leg at least Such a doughty horse upon Whose nose more then its legs shall run So thin a Creature that I 've tride it When its Master did bestride it I plainly through his belly spy'd The boot and leg on th' other side Next this I 'll get coat boots and spurs And then Sir quickly I am yours I 'll come unless which happen may Gall'd Buttocks stop me on the way Whether his ends be good or sinister G. now from head to foot 's a Minister My judgement is he is turn'd Divine Only to have therewith to buy wine He came home with each empty pocket That th' one could not the other mock at What ever others do I 'll swear Safely he us'd no Symonie there He swears since He 's a Countrey Parson That he finds coming worldly cares on Sayes he believes since he has been there You Lawyers do not only sin there But that in White-Hall-gate Out-does all 'twixt Lud and Algate Our Friend P. is by this at Paris Or if not there he very near is God send him home whole wind and limb And keep his nose sound to the brim Some rogues say Tim provides for one day To wit the Sabbath or the Sunday That at that time he alwaies is sick Enough to stay at home and Physick The Poet I confess doth stoop here From what is writ i' th' hill of Cowper But for new bayes what need care D. Who so long since did bravely win 'um Should such proud Spirits alwaies do good What they perform'd would then be too good Thou next would'st have me turn Divine And Doctor too indeed 't is fine Physick and preaching ill agree There is but one Religio Medici Paul and every other ' postle As the Scripture doth to us tell That had the gift of healing did Not cure the belly heart or head By Herbs or Potions Purge or Treacle But by a plain down-right miracle I never heard that learned Moses Whom God himself for Prophet chose his In Egypt was Physician though there He kill'd as many men as if he were How pretty I should shew I'faith As in his Sums Aquinas saith With hour-glass in one fist and With Urinal in the other hand To have my Pothecary say Such a Ladie 's sick to day And straight to have my Sexton calling And ask me when he shall toll all in If I must needs be both then name ye what kind of Doctor you would have me Chymick alas the costly Furnace Will quickly my small purse unfurnish Or Galenist that won't agree With my other trade Divinity Nor with Preachers now the mode is To strive to make themselves Methodists I wish you would a Lawyer had me That indeed had quickly made me 'T is they bring all unto their purses The Countreys money and their curses By poring on some mouldy Record And bringing fools unto an accord With Poets Men so hardly deal They are scarce part o' th' Common-weal Father Apello and Mother Muses Gave all away to Pious uses So that their Children must fair ill That have nought left them but the bare hill Lastly my Friend you are too hard To challenge a small Oxford Bard To send you verse in hungry Lent A fasting time and Penitent When I should be confessing sins Of mine and too of other mens You 'd force me to commit one more And sure 't were not the least o' th' score To make bad Rhithmes which needs are dismal When Stomach 's great and Commons is small To tell y'a plain but Christian truth Verse must be fat that would be smooth An Army said the King of Sweden He that did know so well to lead one Is a great beast which if you draw You must begin first from the maw So say I of the beast a Poet And all our Rhithming Kindred know it Who ere intend a Poem to make He must beging first with his stomach Good sooth at this dull time o' th year When we must drink plain physick beer When all to temperance are bent here To expiate the sins o' th Winter When
I 've inquir'd of both perhaps nor thou Some say 't is for thy valour which our time In a wise Magistrate accounts a crime If it be true thou hast ill luck in this To have two virtues and both plac'd amiss To thwart each other when thou should'st have been A valiant Captain wisdome was thy sin And so uncaptain'd thee and now the time Calls for thy wisdome valour is thy crime And so unjustic'd thee unlucky wretch Two virtues want'st yet hast too much of each Who ere compos'd thy mind plaid Babel-tricks Brought lime and timber when he should bring bricks But we live in an age so full of lies I dare not trust my ears nor scarce my eyes I hope this is a lye too but if true 'T is an affliction Charles that 's justly due To thy desert Our State holds it unfit One man should be a Justice and a wit Go ask thy Lady if it were ever known A Man should be a Justice and do none Come be advis'd by me set out a book In English too where Justices may look And learn their trade let Presidents of all Warrants and Mittimuses great and small All Ale-heuse Licenses and other things Which to the Justices instruction brings Be there inserted that the age to come The children of such men as can get some May glorifie thy memory and be Thy praises trumpets to posterity As from one Looking-glass thrown on the ground In every piece a perfect face is found So from thy ruines all may plainly see Legions of Justices as wise as thee Now having taken all this pains to see Thy worship and can find nor it nor thee Pray come to T bring thy beloved Sue My Mat. and I will meet with her and you And though my Mat's no Poet you shall see She 'l sit and laugh with or at us that be I 'll make thy Lady merry and laugh until She break that belly which thou canst not fill Mean time pray give her one prolifick kiss Tell her it comes from me and if that miss Give her another and if both won't do Do that with three which can't be done by two If thou com'st not I shall have cause to curse Tythes like the laity and it may be worse My sufferings are more then theirs can be They 'l keep their tythes but tythes keep thee from me But if thou can'st not come be sure to write Don't rob at once my hearing and my sight If thou bring'st not thy body send thy wit For we must laugh with thee or else at it XIII To C. S. Esquire 1. SInce we met last my Brother dear We 've had such alterations here Such turnings in and out That I bâ—ing fat and breathless grown My side I meant to take was gone E'r I could turn about 2. First I was for the King and then He could not please the Parliament men And so they went by th' ears I was with other fools sent out And staid three daies but never fought ' Gainst King or Cavaliers 3. And Brother as I have been told You were for the Parliament of old And made a mighty dust And though perhaps you did not kill You prov'd your self as valiant still As ever they were just 4. You were ingaged in that war When C. R fought against C. R. By a distinction new You alwaies took that side that 's right But when Charles with himself did fight Pray of which side were you 5. Should I that am a man of law Make use of such a subtle claw In London or in Ex'ter And be of both sides as you were People would count me then I fear A Knavish Ambodexter 6. But since all sides so tottering be It puzzles wiser men then me Who would noâ— have it utter'd What side to take they cannot tell And I believe they know not well Which side their bread is butter'd 7. Here 's fore-side and here 's back-side too And two left sides for ought I know I can find ne'r a right I 've been for th' middle twenty years And will be still for there appears Most Safety and delight 8. But if the times think that too high By creeping lower I 'll comply And with their humour jump If love at th'belly may not enter In an Italian way I 'll venter To love the very Rump 9. So here 's t'you Charles a Rubber's too 't Here 's a Cast more if that won't do 't Here 's half a dozen more and To every feather here 's a glass Nay rather then I 'll let it pass Here 's a years healths before hand 10. If loving it and drinking to 't And making others drink to boot Don't shew my good affection I 'll sit down disaffected still And let them all do what they will Until our next Election 11. But I 'm concern'd me thinks to find Our Grandees turn with every wind Yet keep like Corks above They lived and dyed but two years since With Oliver their pious Prince Whom they did fear and love 12. As soon as Richard did but raign They liv'd and dy'd with him again And swore to serve him ever But when Sir Arthur came with 's men They liv'd and dy'd with him agen As if Dick had been never 13. And when Prince Lambert turn'd them out They liv'd and dy'd another bout and vilifi'd the Rump And now for them they live and dye But for the Devil by and by If he be turn'd up trump 14. Yet still they order us and ours And will be called Higher Powers But I will tell you what Either these slaves forswear and lye Or if they did so often dye They 've more lives then a Cat. 15. Let the times run and let men turn This is too wise an age to burn We 'l in our Judgment hover Till 't is agreed what we must be In the interim take this from me I 'm thy eternal Lover XIV To his Friend W. C. DEar Brother Will. thy dearer John and I Now happy in each others company Send thee this greeting and do wish that we By thy addition may be made up three Two make no sport they can but sit and sip Here 's t'you and you's no good fellowship We 're Melancholy ' cause we drink alone For John and I together spell but one Three is the perfect number that is able To difference a solitude from a rabble Here if we mix with company 't is such As can say nothing though they talk too much Here we learn Georgicks here the Bucolicks Which building 's cheapest timber stone or bricks Here 's Adams natural Sons all made of Earth Earth's their Religion their discourse their mirth But on the Sunday thou 'ldst admire to see How dirt is mingled with Divinity Such disputations writing singing praying So little doing good and so much saying It tires us weak lung'd Christians and I think So much the more ' cause there 's so little drink And that so bad that we with them are faign To go
And that she truly doth reply and don 't lye She prays may be inquired by the Country Rejoynder By A. B. And the aforesaid Roger saith the Plea By her the said Priscilla formerly Put in and pleaded by her Replication In the aforesaid manner form and fashion And the whole matter that 's contained there Are not sufficient in the law for her The said Priscilla to maintain her aforesaid Suit against him and there need be no more said Nor by the laws of England is it fit That he should make answer unto it This to averr he 's ready Whereupon For want of better Replication In this behalf he doth a judgment pray And that she from having her action may Be barr'd for this against him And for The causes why he doth in Law demurr Upon that Replication he the said Roger according to the Statute made And in such case provided doth declare And shew to th' Court of Upper Bench that 's here These causes following to wit that this Said Replication insufficient is Negative pregnant and uncertain rude Double wants form and does not conclude Rightly according to the legal way Joyning in Demurrer By A. B. And she the said Priscilla here doth say That the said Plea which by reply has been Pleaded by her and what 's contain'd therein In point of Law good and sufficient be Her suit against him to maâ—ntain And she That Plea and matter pleaded as above Is ready here both to maintain and prove As this Court shall consider and think fit And ' cause he does not answer it nor yet Deny the Replication any way The said Priscilla as before doth pray Judgement and dammages to be judg'd to her For all this injury which he did do her But ' cause this Court here not advised is Of giving judgment of the premises A day 's giv'n to both parties to appear I' th Upper Bench before the Keepers here At Westminster till Munday after eight Dayes of St. Hillary for the receipt And hearing of their Judgment upon it For that the Court is not advis'd as yet LVI To the Kings most Sacred Majesty on his miraculous and glorious return 29. May 1660. NOw our Spring-royal's come this cursed ground Which for twelve years with Tyrants did abound Bears Kings again a memorable Spring May first brought forth May now brings home our King Auspicious Twenty ninth this day of Mirth Now gives Redemption which before gave Birth Hark how th' admiring people cry and shout See how they flock and leap for joy the Rout Whose Zeal and Ignorance for many years Devis'd those Goblins Jealousies and Fears And fighting blindfold in those puzling Mists Rais'd by the conjuring of their Exorcists Wounded and chas'd and kill'd each other while Their Setters-on did share the prey and smile Now the delusion 's o'r do plainly see What once they were what now they ought to be T' abused Trumpet that was only taught To inspire Rebellion now corrects its fault Tun'd by your Fame and with more chearful voyce Contributes sounds and helps us to Rejoyce The Guns which roar'd for your best subjects bloud Disown their cause now better understood The Bells that for sedition long chim'd in As if themselves too Rebaptiz'd had been Convert their notes ecchoing with louder peal The harmony of Church and Common-weal While in contiguous Bon-fires all the Nation Paint their late fears and sport with Conflagration 'Bout which rejoycing Neighbours friendly meet And with fresh wood the kind devourer greet Mean while th' old Subjects who so long have slept In Caves and been miraculously kept From Rage and Famine while the only thing That fed and cloath'd them was the hope of King Do all New-plume themselves to entertain Your long'd-for Majesty and welcome Train And as in Job's time 't was those Spurious things Who look like Subjects but did ne'r love Kings Appear among your Subjects in array That 's undiscernable unless more gay All with loud hallows pierce the smiling skies While brandish'd Swords please and amaze our eyes Why then should only I stand still and bear No part of triumph in this Theatre Though I 'm not wise enough to speak t' a King What 's worth his ear nor rich enough to bring Gifts worthy his acceptance though I do Not ride in Buff and Feathers in the show Which Pomp I did industriously eschew That Cost being more to me than th' shew to you Nor do I love a Souldiers garb to own When my own Conscience tells me I am none Yet I 'll do duty too for I 've a mind Will not be idle but will something find To bid my SGVERAIGN Welcome to his own Long-widow'd Realm his Scepter Crown Throne And though too mean and empty it appear If he afford a well-pleas'd Eye and Ear His pow'r can't by my Weakness be withstood Bee 't what it will he 'll find or make it good Hail long-desired Soveraign you that are Now our sole joy and hope as once our fear The Princely Son of a most pious Sire Whose Precepts and Example did inspire Your tender years with virtues that become A King that 's fit to rule all Christendome Which your great Soul hath so improved since Europe can't shew such an accomplish'd Prince Whose whole life 's so exemplary that you Convinc'd those foes which we could not subdue And those that did t' your Court t' abuse you come Converted Proselytes returned home Such strong and sympathetick virtues lye In your great name it cures when you 're not nigh Like Weapon-salve If fame can reach up to This height of Cures what will your person do Your Subjects high'st Ambition and their Cure Bold Rebels terrour you that did endure What e'r the Wit or Malice of your foes Could lay on you or yours yet stoutly chose To suffer on rather than to requite Their injuries and grew Victorious by 't And by your patient suffering did subdue The Traytors fury and the Traytors too The great King makers favourite a Prince Born to a Crown and kept for 't ever since From Open force from all the Close designs Of all your Foes and all our Catilines From all th' insatiate malice of that bold Bloud-thirsty Tyrant from his sword and gold Which hurt you more and from your own false Friends Whom he still kept in pay to serve his ends Yet you 're deliver'd out of all these things By your Protector who 's the King of Kings No more that proud Usurper shall proclame Those partial Conquests which but brand his name To all posterity no more remember His thrice auspicious third day of September Since he fought not for victories but paid Nor were you conquer'd by him but betray'd And now your May by love has gotten more Than his Septembers did by bloud before Thanks to that Glory of the West that Star By whose conductive influence you are Brought to enjoy your own whose em'nent worth These Islands are to small to Eccho sorth Whose