her own Progeny Your Lordship prefers a stranger whom to adopt were not only to Bastard her present Issue but disinherit all succeeding hopes If it seem a Delinquency to be thus tender of her own she will intitle her offence to your Lordship who when you honour'd her with your Admission taught her to set a greater price upon her Children Thus hoping you will abstract our Will from our Power we honour your Lordship desiring that occasion may present us with some Service whose difficulty may add a deeper Dye to the Observance of The Master and Fellows of S. I. To the Earl of Holland then Chancellor of the University of Cambridge Right honourable YOU have rais'd us to that height by writing unto us that we dare attempt an Answer in which Presumption if we have dishonoured your Lordship you must blame your own Gentleness â—…ike the Sun who if he be mask'd with Clouds may thank himself who drew up the Exhalations Sir they that assign Tutelar Angels betroth â—…hem not only to Kingdoms and Cities but to each Company Your Goodness hovers not aloft in a general care of the University but stoops by a peâ—…uliar Influence to every private College That Omnipresence which Philosophy allots to the Soul â—…o be every where at once through the whole Man your Noble Diligence exemplifies in us There is not the least Joynt of our Body but in its Life and Spirits confesses the Chancellor Nor have we in special the least share of your Favours as appears by many pregnant Demonstrations of your Love among which this is not the meanest that you would deign to require our Service To offend against so gracious a Patron would add a Tincture to our Disobedience yet such is the Iniquity of our Condition that we are forced to defer our Gratitude We have many in the College whose Fortunes were at the last Gasp and if not now reliev'd their hopes extinct Whereas he whom your Lordship commends gives us farther day of Payment by his green years He is yet but young but the Beams of your Favour will ripen him the sooner for the like Preferment which if it please your Lordship to antedate by a present Acceptance of our future Obedience We shall gladly persevere in our old Title of To the Earl of Westmoreland My Lord IT were high Presumption in me not to be proud of this Occasion and I should be no less than a Rebel to Eloquence if your Lines you sent me had not rais'd me above my ordinary Level so that to express my Gratitude I must renounce my Humility and purchase one Virtue at the price of another And well may my Modesty suffer in the Service when my Reason it self is overwhelmed with the Favour To see a Person of your Lordship's Eminency possess'd of Nobility by a double Tenure both of Birth and Brain so to bend his Greatness as to stoop to me who live in the Vale both of Parts and Fortune is so high an Honour that who justly considers it if he be not stupidly sensless will be stupid with Extasie I for my part am lost in Amazement and it is mine Interest to be so for not knowing otherwise how to give your Present a fit Reception it is the best of my play to be beside my self in the Action You see my Lord how I empty my self of my Native Faculty to be ready for those of your Inspirings as the Prophets of old in a Sacred Fury ran out of their Wits to make room for the Deity I shall not need hereafter to digest my Love-passions I shall speak by Instinct For when your Honour deign'd to visit me with your lofty Numbers what was it else but to make me the Priest of your Lordship's Oracle Such is the Strength and Spirit of your Fancy that methought your Poems like the Richest Wine sent forth a Steam at the opening What flowed from your Brain fum'd into mine â—…t was almost impossible to read your Lines and be â—…ober You You my Lord are the Favourite â—…f the Muses Your Strain is so happy and hath â—…he Reputation for so Matchless as if you had a â—…ouble Key to the Temple of Honour to let in â—…our Lordship's self and exclude Competitors â—…t's you my Lord have cut the Clouds and reachâ—…d Perfection who having mounted the Cliff lends an â—…and to me who am labouring in the Craggy Asâ—…ent So tow'ring are the Praises you please to bestow on me and my Desert so groveling that tâ—… shew you my Head is not worthy your Height iâ—… is not able to bear them it grows giddy with the Precipice It pains me to be on the Laste of an Hyperbole you do but crucifie my tender Merits tâ—… distend them thus at length and breadth Consider I pray you that the Leanest Endowment would be plump and full thus blown up with 〈◊〉 Quill and that there are some so Dwarfish whoâ—… the Rack will not stretch to a proper man It iâ—… an excellent Breathing for a puissant Wit to overbear the World in the Defence of a Paradox anâ—… a good Advocate will weather out the Cause wheâ—… there is neither Truth nor Invention I perswadâ—… my self you had never undertaken to write mâ—… Panegyrick but that you saw it was to combâ—… with the Tide and to put your Abilities to the utmost Test in so unlikely a Subject Little do yoâ—… think what store of Opposers your Opinion wiâ—… breed you for though you be so powerful in thâ—… Art of Perswasion that should you turn Apostatâ—… there would need no more but to toll the Bell foâ—… Religion yet this is an Heresie where you stanâ—… alone and like Scaeva in the Breach with your single Valour duel an Army Now my Lord Iâ—… be not mistaken I have found the Motive that induced you to oblige me you are tyed by your Order to give Protection to the weak and Succourless So I must change my Addresses and thank you Reb Ribband for my Commendations Such aâ—… so many are the Flowers of Rhetorick you haâ—… heap'd upon me that I run the hazard of the Olympick Victor who was stiffed with Posies caâ—… upon him in approbation of his Worth which Frâ—… grant Fate if I should sustain what is there more to make me enamour'd of Death but that the same Flowers should strew my Corps in a Funeral Oration Could you think my Lord that your suppressing your Name was able to conceal you when it is easie to wind you by your Phrase The Sweetness of the Language discover'd the Author like that Roman Senator who hiding himself in time of Proscription his Persumes betray'd him But 〈◊〉 shall not arrest your Lordship too far with a farther Interruption My Lord you have Enobled me with your Testimony and I shall keep your Paper as the Diploma of my Honour Yet give me â—…eave to tell you that among all the Epithets you â—…ile so Artificially to raise my Fame there is one â—…anting to accomplish my Ambition and that
heal'd Ruperts is such 'T would find St. Peters Work yet wound as much He gags their Guns defeats there dire Intent The Canons do but lisp and Complement Sure Iove descended in a leaden Shower To get this Perseus Hence the fatal Power Of Shot is strangled Bullets thus allied Fear to commit an Act of Parricide Go on brave Prince and make the World confess Thou art the greater World and that the less Scatter th'accumulative King untruss That five-fold Fiend the States SMECTYMNUUS Who place Religion in their Vellum-ears As in their Phylacters the Jews did theirs England's a Paradise and a modest Word Since guarded by a Cherub's flaming Sword Your Name can scare an Athiest to his Prayers And cure the Chin-cough better then the Bears Old Sybil charms the Tooth-ake with you Nurse Makes you still Children nay and the pond'rous curse The Clowns salute with is deriv'd from you Now RUPERT take thee Rogue how dost thou do In fine the Name of Rupert thunders so Kimbolton's but a rumbling Wheel-barrow An Elegy upon Mr. John Cleveland PRime Wits are prun'd the First this may appear By that high-valued Piece interred here Whose Laureat Genius rapt with Sacred Skill Prov'd his Extraction from Pernassus Hill Whose Fame like Pallas Flame shone in each Clime Crowning his Fancy royally Divine Rich in Elixar'd Measures and in all That could breath Sense in Airs Emphatical Pure Love his Native Influence A Lot Given him from Heav'n No People save the Scot But did affect him These had lov'd Him too Had he school'd Baseness with a smoother Brow But his refined Temper scorn'd t' ingage His Pen to Time or Humour any Age. Compleat in all that might true Honour gain Only an Enemy to Withers Strain Holding it still the Prodigy of Time To Canonize a Poet for a Rhyme Free in Fruition of himself Content In what dis-relish'd Servile Sp'rits Restraint Now some will say His Uolume was too small To rear an Hermian Arch or Escural To his dilated Fame O do not put These frivolous Objections Homers Nut Inclos'd a living Iliad 'T is not much Perpetuates our Memory but such As can act Wonders And apply a Cure To States surprized with a Calenture And with their Quill beyond all Chymick Art Purge the Corruptions of a State-sick Heart By rare Phlebotomy This Art was His Which made his Name so precious as it is Such was the Practice of a Golden Time To spare the Person but to taxe the Crime Age is not summ'd by Years but Hours as Times So 〈◊〉 are ballanc'd not by Leaf but Lines Clitus affirm'd and bound it with an Oath That Celsus Poems were meer Food for th'Moth And for those Manuscrips which Mevius writ They might be styl'd the Surquedry of Wit Look home and weigh the Fancies of these Days And you 'l conclude they merit equal Praise A Title or a Frontispiece in Plate Drawn from a Person of Desertless State Lures Legions of Admirers Wits must want That holds a Distance with the Sycophant Timists be only Thrivers But a Brain That 's freely Generous scorns Servile Gain Such was this pure Pernassian whose clear Nature To gain a World could never brook to flatter Poize this Imparallel and you will find A Mine of Treasures in a Matchless Mind No more The Name of Cleveland speaks to me A living Annal dying Elegy Upon the pittiful Elegy writ lately on him modestly taxed and freely vindicated by the canded Censure of an indeared Brother SInce thy Remove form Earth there came to me A Funeral Elegy addrest to thee Elegiacks made gracious by thy Name But too short-lung'd to parallel thy Fame Laurel and Bays were the Subjects of his Pen Whose muddy Muse deserved none of them A sublimated Style bereft of Sense Is like a Brain-strapt Justice on a Bench Whose Tones are Thunder Fury and Command But in a Dialect none understand Thy Native Fancy was no Lucian Dream Deriv'd from th'Chrystal Rills of Hypocrene Thy free-born Genius did it self express Iu Phidias Colours without forreign Dress Much like the Damask Rose but newly blown And blusheth in no tincture but her own Such was thy Posie which th' Albion State May envy or admire scarce imitate In purest Odes Bards should thy Loss bemoan And in surviving Measures or in none For these who want Art to Imbellish Worth Wrong them whom they endeavour to set forth Sic perit Ingenium Genii ni pignora vitam Perpetuam statuant Monumenta struant Aurea sic docilem coluerunt Secula vatem Ordine Pieridum commemorando parem Auson An Elegy in Memory of Mr John Cleveland SOon as a Verse with Feet as swift as Thought The Stabbing News of Clevelands Death had brought To sad Parnassus the distracted Nine First in a dismal Shriek their Voices joyn Which the forkt Hill did eccho twice and then Each Eye seem'd chang'd into an Hippocrene As if like Niobe 't were their Intent To weep themselves into his Monument Nor did their Grief exceed their Loss his Quill More Love and Honour gain'd to th' Muses Skill Then all those Modern Factions of Wit Such as 'gainst Gondibert or for him writ And such whom their Rhymes so much do affect To be esteem'd o' th' Court or Colledge Sect Whose Lines with Clevelands such Proportion hold As the New-Court and Colledges with th' Old How lofty was his Strain yet clear and even The Center ofâ—…s Conceptions was Heaven 'T was not his Muses toyl but ease to soar He writ so high cause he could write no lower And though the World in English Poetry No Monarch knew so absolute as He Yet did he ne'er Excise the Natives nor Made Forreign Mines unto his Mint bring Oar. He his own Treasure was and as no Quill Was Guide to his so shall his Verse be still Un-imitated by the best and free From meaner Poets Petty-larceny That Plagiary that can filch but one Conceipt from Him and keep the Theft unknown At Noon from Phaebus may by the same Sleight Steal Beams and make 'em pass for his own Light W. W. An Elegy offered to the Memory of that Imcomparable Son of Apollo Mr. John Cleveland GRief the Souls Sables in my Bosom lies A true Close-mourner at thy Obsequies Whilst Tears in Floods from my o'er-charg'd Eyes ran With Grief to drown the little World of man He that survives this Loss may justly say His Soul doth Pennance in a Sheet of Clay And rather welcome Death than patient sit To solemnize the Funeral of Wit The Painter Agamemnon's Face did screen Drawing the Sacrifice of Iphygene To shew his grieved Looks as well as Heart Did far transcend the humble reach of Art So when all 's said that can be said we find There 's nothing said to what he left behind But his all searching Soul scorning to be Confin'd to th'limits of Mortality Shook off its clog of Flesh that pond'rous Mass His Spirit freer than his Country was For Fate his Life might circumscribe and
spring from you Make haste then and prevent your Years we all Long till we may the Belgian Cousin call While thus you couple young you seem to be Espous'd not by Consent but Sympathy And like the Vine and Elm secure from Strife Embrace as horn not as made Man and Wife And you may like the Vine too multiply That he who shall summ up your Progeny May be perswaded that you did bring forth Not Twins but Clusters while their Native Worth Antedates breeding and your Issues are Each Babe a sucking Hero Infant Star But why do I these needless Fancies vent Your Marriage is an Act of Parliament The State 's your Priest your People too whose You voted thus thus sign'd think you to be Not wedded but enacted and do since Acknowledge you are now both Law and Prince Another upon the same 'T Is vain to wish them Joys nor is it meet Verses should pray changing to knees their feet This were thy Cry God help you to a Saint Can Fulness fail or Glorious Bodies faint Votes are for meaner Wed-locks where there is Some Doubt or Hazard of a lasting Bliss But now such Labour 's equally unwise As is the Priest's that prays for Deities Blessings are proper to this Union As heat to Fire or Light is to the Sun Nor is 't a Wonder for the Prince did woo Not Birth Age Beauty but Religion too Here Faith and Reason courts this Match doth prove Wisdom in Youth and Policy in Love Some Bridegrooms like the Days all Nations try And cheapen every Toy before they buy When one is only Worthy and worth all Those that were Rivals for the golden Ball He could not look on more without Offence A Thirst of Choice had thwarted Providence The Theban Hearth could not divide these Flames Which burnt through all the Seas 'twixt Rbine and Thames Nor were their Hearts link'd by the Painters Hand Or Legates Voice such Bonds are Ropes of Sand They their own Counsel happier Steps have trod Who not salute the Image but the God Should he have had a Speaker who tho young Carries an ord'red Babel in his Tongue Or should her Beauty in faint Colours lie When there 's no Tablet worthy but his Eye This Sun and Moon may safely joyn their Lips Who by their Nearness banish all Eclipse Their Flames and Flow'rs stoln Kisses like do make Equal Amends and at once give and take Here are such emulous Beauties that some do Think them united in one Body too So that our Eyes see double as a Face Though single in the Flesh is two i'th'Glass And 't must be so unless that 's now confest Which once was Soloecism that both are best And each is all which large Perfections are Beyond our Hopes and Faiths as well as Prayer Thus then here 's nothing wanting yet we may Although not for them to them humbly pray Grant then Illustrious Prince for we do vow To know no Nuptial Deity but you Grant us our Boon although your abler parts Make this a truer Marriage of the Arts Yet throw your Euclid by and only look To th'Propositions of your living Book And you 'l conclude Truth doth more clearly lie There than i'th'Maxims of Philosophy Measure o'er all her Limbs and you will see No such Proportions in Geometry Instead of Heavens rude Globes survey her Eyes There lurks no Snake or Scorpion in those Skies You 'l there find richer Sphears and blushing tell How in those Points Angels like you do dwell Since she to day made you a Number try Part of one Art alone to multiply Think of no Tacticks but of those which are Read in the martial'd Orders of her Hair Though you with Victory have Armies led 'T was not so great a Triumph as to wed Such Fetters will encrease your Liberty Count not these Bonds amongst your Armory Thus Prisons prove strong Forts and Foes are slain The second time now by a Captive Chain And you most gracious Lady who alone Are all the Goddesses we call upon Wear not too many Pearls unless it be Upon a day of sad Humility When you keep Masks or celebrate a Feast If you 'd be Rich or Glorious come undrest Gems do but hide Sparks of a brighter hew Those that are Stars to some are Clouds to you Think of no Jewel but the Union That which the Priest not Ladies did put on And then you 'l find true Lustre Eyes are dim And weary with the Light but not of him When you have made his Arms your Seat be 't known T is to debase your self to sit i th'Throne An Epitaph on Ben. Johnson THe Muses fairest Light in no dark time The Wonder of a Learned Age the Line Which none can pass the most proportion'd Wit To Nature the best Judge of what was fit The deepest plainest highest clearest Pen The Voice most eccho'd by consenting Men The Soul which answer'd best to all well said By others and which most requital made â—…un'd to the highest Key of ancient Rome â—…eturning all her Musick with his own 〈◊〉 whom with Nature Study claim'd a Part Yet who unto himself ow'd all this Art Here lies Ben. Iohnson every Age will look With Sorrow here with Wonder on his Book On one that was deprived of his Testicles THou Neuter Gender Whom a Gown Can make a Woman Breeches none Created one thing made another Not a Sister scarce a Brother Jack of both sides that may bear Or a Distaff or a Spear If thy Fortune thither call Be the Grand Seignors General Or if thou fancy not that Trade Turn th'Sultana's Chamber-maid A Medal where grim Mars turn right Proves a smiling Aphtodite How doth Nature quibble either He or she Boy Girl or neither Thou may'st serve great Iove instead Of Hebe both and Ganymed A Face both stern and mild Cheeks bare That still do only promise Hair Old Cybele the first in all This humane predicamental Scale Why should she chuse her Priests to be Such Individuums as ye Such Insecta's added on To Creatures by Substraction In whom Nature claims no part Ye only being Words of Art To his Mistress WHat Mystery is this That I should find My Blood in kissing you to stay behind 'T was not for want of Colour that requir'd My Blood for Paint no Dye could be desir'd On that fair Cheek where Scarlet were a Spot And where the Juice of Lillies but a Blot If at the Presence of a Murtherer The Wound will bleed and tell the Cause is there A touch will do much more even so my Heart When secretly it felt your killing Dart Shew'd it in Blood which yet doth more complain Because it cannot be so toucht again This wounded Heart to shew its Love most true Sent forth a drop and wrote its Mind to you Was ever Paper half so white as this Or wax so yielding to the printed Kiss Or seal so strong No Letter e'er was writ That could the Authors Mind so truly fit For though
their Mind Which you convey'd them through their Mother who Even thus did travel with your Vertues too Which to descend to our dull Sense and Earth Comes to us in their shapes and suffer Birth And be your Off-spring who when Chronicle Is all we have and Annals only tell Your Deeds and Actions and when Men shall look And see the Prince and Duke do all the Book And live your Royal Story and that all Which you did well was but prophetical Will not be thought as your Posterity But you in them will your Successor be To the Queen upon the Birth of her first Daughter AFter the Prince's Birth admired Queen Had you prov'd barren you had fruitful been And in one Heir born to his Fathers Place And Royal Mind had brought us forth a Race But we who thought we wisht enough to see A Prince of Wales have now a Progeny And you being perfect now have learnt the Way To be with Child as oft as we can pray So that henceforth we need no Altars vex With empty Vows being heard in either Sex Nor have we all our Kingdoms Incense try'd So many Years only to be deny'd We no Desires but thankful Off'rings bring That bearing many you prefer the King And to us yet have but one Daughter shown Who else had been the Original alone Without a Copy For the Shapes we see In Tables of you but bright Errors be Nor could we hope Art could beget an Heir To that sweet Form unless your self did bear Your Pourtraiture and in a Daughter shew That of your self which yet no Painter drew Who with his subtle Hand and wisest Skill Hath hitherto but striv'd to draw you ill And when he takes his Pencil from your Look Finds Colours make you but a Piece mistook And so paints Treason nor would have Pretence To scape but that he limns a fair Pretence But in the Princess you are writ so plain And true that in her you were born again And when we see you both together plac't You are your Daughter only grown in haste In both we may the self-same Graces see But that they yet in her but Infant be Not Woman Beauties nor will we despair The Prince and Duke of York have equal Share In your Perfection which though they divide Make them both Prince enough by th'Mothers side Whose Composition is so clear and good That we can see Discourses in your Blood And understand your Body so refin'd That of you might be born a Soul or Mind O may you still be fruitful and begin Henceforth to make our Year by lying in May we have store of Princes and they live Till Heraulds doubt what Titles they should give To this may you be young still and no other Signs of more Age found in you but a Mother Upon one that preacht in a Cloak SAw you the Cloak at Church to day The long-worn short Cloak lin'd with Say What had the Man no Gown to wear Or was this sent him from the Mayor Or is 't the Cloak which Nixon brought To trim the Tub where Golledge taught Or can this best conceal his Lips And shew Communion sitting Hips Or was the Cloak St. Pauls If so With it he found the Parchments too Yes verily for he hath been With mine Host Gaius at the new Inn. A Gown God bless us trails o'th'Floor Like th'Petticoat o'th'Scarlet Whore Whose large stiff Plates he dare confide Are Ribs from Antichrists own side A mourning Cope if it look to th' East Is the black Surplice of the Beast A Song of SACK COme let us drink away the time A Pox upon this pelting Rhime When Wine runs high Wit 's in the Prime Drink and stout Drinkers are true Joys Odd Sonnets and such little Toys Are Exercises fit for Boys 2. The whining Lover that doth place His Fancy on a painted Face And wasts his Substance in the Chase Would ne'er in Melancholy pine Had he Affections so Divine As once to fall in Love with Wine 3. Then to our Liquor let us sit Wine makes the Soul for Action fit Who drinks most Wine hath the most Wit The Gods themselves do Revels keep And in pure Nectar tipple deep When sloathful Mortals are asleep 4. They fudled me for Recreation In Water which by all Relation Did cause Deucalions Inundation The Spangle Globe had it almost Their Cups were with Salt-Water do'st The Sun-burnt Center was the Toast 5. The Gods then let us imitate Secure from carping Care and Fate Wine Wit and Courage both create In Wine Apollo always chose His darkest Oracles to disclose 'T was Wine gave him his Ruby-nose 6. Who dare's not drink 's a wretched Wight Nor do I think that Man dares fight All Day that dares not drink all Night Come fill my Cup untill it swim With Foam that overlooks the Brim Who drinks the deepest Here 's to him 7. Sobriety and Study breeds Suspicion in our Acts and Deeds The down-right Drunkard no Man heeds Give me but Sack Tobacco store A drunken Friend a little Whore Provide me these I 'll ask no more A Time-Sonnet NOw that our Holy Wars are done Between the Father and the Son And since we have by Righteous Fate Distrest a Monarch and his Mate And forc'd their Heirs flee into France To weep out their Inheritance Let 's set open all our Packs That contain ten thousand Racks Cast on the Shore of the Red Sea Of Naseby and of Newbery If then you will come provided with Gold We dwell close by Hell where we 'l sell What you will that is ill For Charity waxeth cold 2. Hast thou done Murther or Blood spilt We can soon get another Name That will keep thee from all Blame But be it still provided thus That thou hast once been one of us Gold is the God that shall pardon the Guilt For we have What shall save Thee from th' Grave Since the Law We can awe Although a famous Prince's Blood were spilt 3. If a Church thou hast bereft Of its Plate 't is Holy Theft Or for Zeal sake if thou bee'st Prompted on to be a Thief Gold is a sure prevailing Advocate Then come bring a Sum Law is dumb And submits to our Wits For it 's Policy guides a State The Parliament MOst Gracious and Omnipotent And Everlasting Parliament Whose Power and Majesty Is greater than all Kings by odds And to account you less then Gods Must needs be Blasphemy 2. Moses and Aaron ne'er did do More Wonder than are wrought by you For Englands Israel But though the Red Sea we have past If you to Canaan bring 's at last Is 't not a Miracle 3. In six Years space you have done more Than all the Parliaments before You have quite done the Work The King the Cavaller and Pope You have o'erthrown and next we hope You will confound the Turk 4. By you we have Deliverance From the Design of Spain and France Ormond Montross the Danes You aided by our