Refrain thy dull delayes and bitter trying Of my sad heart Slain by thâ— dart If this be all my crop of hopes and fears My love my God shall have my sins my tears Free me this once and when I come to bee The pris'ner of a second miserie Bring all thy chains And wracks of horrid pains I 'le willingly embrace the dreadful chance And court my death as a deliverance Whisper no more there 's faith in womankinde Or any fixed thought to strike me blinde When each new face Their fickle vows unlace And each strange object that attempts their eye Bribes all their sense into variety Give me a heart of such a sollid frame Breathes above changes and is still the same I like no wits That flow by antique fits Nor such a whiffling love whos wandring fire Is guided by a weather-cock desire Give me a Mistris whose diviner minde Speaks her descended of the heavenly kinde Whose gloryes are No borrow'd tinsel ware Let her be yce to all the world but such As waxe to me that melts upon the touch Call not that chastity that 's proud disdain Nor plead them honest that in shew refrain Lust has that trick And stews such Rhetorick Only to raise the standard of their price And steal a verteous paint by seeming nice No I abhor those poor religious blindes Which aime to sequester our eyes mindes Love has no mask Nor can it frown or ask But in a sweet consent moves every way With its dear object like the Sun and day No either love me still or not at all I like no passions that can rise and fall No humours please In this conceal'd disease But if my Mistris strive to catch my will The Lawrel is attain'd by standing still Once more I tempt thy pitty Dearest Love And if these tears can no compassion move I 'le scorn thee more Than I have lov'd before And stanck up the salt Conducts of mine eyes To watch thy shame weep mine obsequies Christmas Day Or the Shutle of an inspired Weaver bolted against the Order of the Church for its Solemnity CHrist-mass give me my beads The word implies A plot by its ingredients Beef and Pyes A feast Apocryphal a popish rite Kneaded in dough beloved in the night The night beloved that 's as much to say By late translations not in the day An annual dark-lanthorn Jubile Catesby and Vaulx baked in conspiracie The Hierarchie of Rome the Triple Crown Confess'd in Triangles then swallow'd down With spanish Sack The eighty eight Armado Newly presented in an Ovenado O Calvin now my Cause upon thee fixes Were ere such dregs mix'd with Genevae sixes The cloyster'd steaks with salt and pepper lye Like Nunnes with patches in a Monastrie Prophaneness in a Conclave nay much more Idolatrie in crust Babylon's Whore Raked from the grave and baked by hanches then Serv'd up in coffins to unholy men Defiled with superstition like the Gentiles Of old that worship'd Onions Roots and Lentiles Did ever John of Leyden prophecy Of such an Antichrist as pudding-pye Beloved t is a thing when it appears Enough to set the Saints all by the ears In solving of the text a doubtfull sin Reformed Churches nere consented in But hold my Brethren while I preach and pray Me thinks the Manna melts and wasts away I am a man as all you are have read Of Peter's sheet how he devoutly fed Without exception therefore to dispence A little with the worm of conscience And bend unto the creature I profess Zeal and a Pye may joyn both in a mess The dearest sons may erre then why a sinner May I not eat since HVGH eat three to dinner Good Fryday WHat sable Cypress maskes the glorious Sun Rivalls the world and robs us of our Noon What Ague cramps the earth whereas time fled Why groan the graves is nature vanished Or must y shrivell'd heavens in one dread fire Rowle up in flames then languish and expire Some horrid change approaches some sad guise Nature or else the God of nature dyes Here 's more than man in this more than mankinde Death 's in pursuance or the world resign'd No common passion strikes mine eye no fate Less than the whole's extinction or debate Angels stand trembling and amaz'd the sphears Cease their bless'd harmony and turn all tears Wrapp'd in a dreadful hush so highly more Is man's redemption than his birth before To raise a world from nothing and divide Dull bodies from the thin and rarified Speaks God in every close But to renew Those ruin'd attomes when confusion threw The whole into a lumpish mass again This makes the lovely wonder soveraign To mould a man in clay then quicken that Dead body with a soule cooperate Argues a Reall Presence But when sin Has soyl'd that heavenly stamp and chain'd it in The fetters of damnation to restore That life in death transcends the love before O then behold and see if ever pain Or anguish match'd that sorrow when the slain Of God bleeds on the Cross when heaven descends In bloud to make man the heavens friends Nay more when man lay doom'd eternally To answer his own wrath even God could dye And smile upon those Wounds that Spear that Grave Which our rebellions merited and gave This love exceeds all height yet I confess 'T was God that did it how could it be less Easter Day HOw all the guard reliev'd the Romans fled Those Basilisks that seeing conquered Heaven back my faith what glorious Apâ—arition Shines in the vault what angel like condition Of Souldiers doe I see surely my fear Trebles the object t is the Gardiner Flow out my tears Th' have stollen the Lord away Come view the place whereas his body lay But yet behold the napkin and the cloathes Wrapp'd by themselves in vain you take your Oaths Hard hearted Jews For ô hee 's risen and gone Why stand you gazing what d' yee dote upon Peace be unto you O now I hear his voyce Run Peter that thy spirit may rejoyce A greater Star than that out of the East Which led the Wise-men rises in my brest See where he rides in tryumph hell death Dragg'd at his chariot wheells the powers beneath Made groveling Captives all their trophies bring Slaves to the lawrels of the glorious King Nay sin and the dull grave make up the crowd Though base yet all pris'ners at war allowd Ride on brave Prince of Souls enlarge thy T is thy own work alone to kill raise Dying to vanquish death and by thy fall bayes To be the Resurrection of us all Flow hither all believers yee that sow In tears and in a veile but darkly know Stretch hither the distrustfull hand and feel Th' impressions of the nails and barbed steel But yet forbear his word must be attended Touch me not for I am not yet ascended However feast your eyes behold the Star Of Israel's deliverer This boon to begging Moses hee 'd not give But now frail
let the Law be canoniz'd no better Than a meer corps of words a bare dead letter In thee the life departed In thy dust Lies raked the hand sense of right and just What yet survives or rather what presents It's seeming face cloath'd in thine ornaments 'T is but Elias Mantle though unknown Dropt to work wonder but the Prophet's gon Piae Memoriae Doctiss Reveren dissimique in Christo Patris Johannis Prideaux quam novissimè Wigoriae Episcopi harumque tristissimè lacrymarum Patroni nec nòn defuncti BVsta struant alii lacrymisque altare refundant Quorum tristitiâ fata pianda cadunt Talia praecurant cineres monumenta pusilli Queis melos tumulum fama gemenda petit Hîc neque pyramidum nec inertis monstra colossi Poscuntur subito corruitura die Gloria securi confidentissima Caeli Non vocat haec stellis astra minora suis Sic tuus ascendit currus dignâ—ssime Praesul Terreni miserans futile honoris onus Sed vae Zodiaco nostro vae Phaebe trementi Ortus enim patriae lux tenebraeque fuit In te floruimus tecum decerpimur omnes Et Pater gnati Mollitèr ossa cubent Parva tegaá¹…t tenues aperti funera fletus Tanta ruunt superis damna silenda metu Obsequies On that right Reverend Father in God John Prideaux late Bishop of Worcester deceased IF by the fall of Luminaries wee May safely ghuess the world's Catastrophe The signes are all fulfill'd the Tokens flown That scarce a man has any of his own Only the Jewes conversion some doubt bred But that 's confuted now the Doctor 's dead Great Atlas of Religion since thy fate Proclaims our loss too soon our tears too late Where shall the bleeding Church a Champion To grasp with Heresie Or to maintain Her conflict with the Devil For the ods gain Runs bias'd six to four against the Gods Hell lists amain nay and th' engagement flies With wing'd Zeal through all the Sectaries That should she soundly into question fall We were within a Vote of none at all But can this hap upon a single death Yes For thou wert the treasure of our breath That pious Arch whereon the building stood Which broke the whole's devolv'd into a floud An inundation that ore-bears the banks And bounds of all religion If some stancks Shew their emergent heads Like Setâ—'s famed stone Th' are monuments of thy devotion gone No wonder then the rambling Spirits stray In thee the body fell and slipp'd away Hence ' â—is the Pulpit swells with exhalations Intricate nonsense travel'd from all Nations Notions refined to doubts maxims squeez'd With tedious hick-ups till the sense growes freez'd If ought shall chance to drop we may call good T is thy distinction makes it understood Thy glorious Sun made ours a perfect day Our influence took its being from thy ray Thine was that Gedeon's fleece when all stood dry Pearl'd with caelestial dew showr'd from on high But now thy night is come our shades are spread And living here we move among the dead Perhaps an Ignis fatuus now and then Starts up in holes stincks and goes out agen Such Kicksee winsee flames shew but how dear Thy great Lighâ—'s resurrection would be here A Brother with five loaves and two smal fishes A table-book of sighs and looks and wishes Staâ—tles religion more at one strong doubt Than what they mean when as the candle 's But I profane thy ashes gratious soul Thy spirit flew too high to truss these foul out Gnostick opinions Thou desired'st to meet Such tenents that dust stand upon their feet And beard the Truth with as intens'd a zeal As Saints upon a fast night quilt a meal Rome never trembled till thy peircing eye Darted her through and crush'd the mysterie Thy Revelations made John's compleat Babylon fell indeed but 't was thy sweat And oyle perform'd the work to what we see Foretold in misty types broke forth in thee Some shallow lines were drawn and sconces made By smatterers in the Arts to drive a trade Of words between us but that proved no more Than threats in cowing feathers to give ore Thy fancy laid the Siedg that wrought her fall Thy batteries commanded round the wall Not a poor loop-hole error could sneak by No not the Abbess to the Friery Though her disguise as close and subtly good As when she wore the Monk's hose for a hood And if perhaps their French or Spanish wine Had fill'd them full of beads and Bellarmine That they durst salley or attempt a guard O! how thy busy brain would beat ward Rally and reinforce rout and relieve Double reserves And then an onset give Like marshall'd thunder back'd with flames of fire Storms mixt with storms Passion with globes of ire Yet so well disciplin'd that judgment still Sway'd and not rash Commissionated will No words in thee knew order time place The instant of a charge or when to face When to pursue advantage where to halt When to draw off and where to re-assault Such sure commands stream'd from thee that 't was one With thee to vanquish as to look upon So that thy ruin'd Foes groveling confesse Thy conquests were their fate and happinesse Nor was it all thy business here to war With forreign forces But thy active star Could course a home-bred mist a native sin And shew its guilt's degrees how wherein Then sentence and expel it Thus thy sun An everlastingstage in labour run So that its motion to the eye of man Waved still in a compleat Meridian But these aâ—e but fair comments of our loss The glory of a Chruch now on the Cross The transcript of that beauty once we had Whiles with the lustre of thy presence clad But thou art gone Brave Soul with thee all The gallantry of Arts Polemical Nothing remains as â—râ—mitive but talk And that our Priests again in Leather walk A Flying ministerie of horse and foot Things that can start a text but nere come to 't Teazers of doctrines which in long-fleev'd prose Run down a Sermon all upon the nose These like dull glow-worms twinckle in the night The frighted Land-skips of an absent light But thy rich flame 's withdrawn heaven caught thee hence Thy glories were grown ripe for recompence And therefore to prevent our weak essaies Th' art crown'd an Angel with caelestiâ—l Bayes And there thy ravish'd Soul meets field and fire Beauties enough to fill its strong desire The contemplation of a present God Perfections in the womb the very road And Essensies of vertues as they bee Streming and mixing in Eternitie Whiles we possess our souls â—ut in a veyle Live earth confined catch heaven by retaile Such a dark-lanthorn age such jealous dayes Men tread on Snakes sleep in Bataliaes Walk like Confessors hear but must not say What â— bold world dares act and what it may Yet here all votes Commons and Lords agree The Crosier fell in Laud the Church in
thee On the death of his Royall Majesty Charles late King of England c. WHat went you out to see a dying King Nay more I fear an Angel suffering But what went you to see A Prophet slain Nay that and more a martyrd Soveraign Peace to that sacred dust Great Sir our fears Have left us nothing but obedient tears To court your hearse in those pious flouds We live the poor remainder of our goods Accept us in these later obsequies The unplundred riches of our hearts and eyes For in these faithful streams and emanations W' are subjects still beyond all Sequestrations Here we cry more than Conquerours malice Murder estates but hearts will still obey These as your glory 's yet above the reach may Of such whose purple lines confusion preach And now Dear Sir vouchsafe us to admire With envey your arrival and that Quire Of Cherubims and Angels that supply'd Our duties at your tryumphs where you ride With full caelestial Iôes and Ovations Rich as the conquest of three ruin'd Nations But 't was the heavenly plot that snath d you hence To crown your soul with that magnificence And bounden rights of honor that poor earth Could only wish and strangle in the birth Such pitied emulation stop'd the blush Of our ambitious shame non-suited us For where souls act beyond mortallity Heaven only can performe that Jubilee We wrastle then no more but bless your day And mourn the anguish of our sad delay That since we cannot add we yet stay here Fettred in clay Yet longing to appear Spectators of your bliss that being shown Once more you may embrace us as your own Where never envy shall devide us more Nor Citty tumults nor the worlds uproar But an eternal hush a quiet peace As without end so still in the increase Shall lull humanity a sleep and bring Us equal subjects to the heavenly King Till when I 'le turn Recusant and forswear All Calvin for there 's Purgatory here An Epitaph STay Passenger Behold and see The widdowed grave of Majestie Why tremblest thou Here 's that will make Alâ— but our stupid souls to shake Here lies entomb'd the sacred dust Of Peace and Piety Right and Just The bloud O startest not thou to hear Of a King 'twixt hope and fear Shedd and hurried hence to bee The miracle of miserie Add the ills that Rome can boast Shrift the world in every coast Mix the fire of earth and seas With humane spleen and practises To puny the records of time By one grand Gygantick crime Then swell it bigger till it squeeze The globe to crooked hams and knees Here 's that shall make it seem to bee But modest Christianitie The Lawgiver amongst his own Sentenc'd by a Law unknown Voted Monarchy to death By the course Plebeian breath The Soveraign of all command Suff'ring by a Common hand A Prince to make the oâ—ium more Offer'd at his very door The head cut off ô death to see 't In obedience to the feet And that by Justice you must know If you have faith to think it so Wee 'le stir no further then this sacred Clay But let it slumber till the Judgment day Of all the Kings on earth 't is not denyed Here lies the first that for Religion died A Survey of the World THe World 's a guilded trifle and the state Of sublunary bliss adulterate Fame but an empty sound a painted noise A wonder that nere looks beyond nine dayes Honour the tennis-ball of fortune Though Men wade to it in bloud and overthrow Which like a box of dice uneven dance Sometimes 't is one 's somtimes another's chance Wealth but the hugg'd consumption of that heart That travailes Sea Land for his own smart Pleasure a courtly madness a conceipt That smiles and tickles without worth or weight Whose scatter'd reck'ning when 't is to be paid Is but repentance lavishly in-layd The world fame honour wealth pleasure then Are the fair wrack and Gemonies of men Ask but thy Carnall heart if thou shouldst bee Sole Monarch of the worlds great familie If with the Macedonian Youth there would Not be a corner still reserv'd that could Another earth contain If so What is That poor insatiate thing she may call bliss Question the loaden Gallantry asleep What profit now their Lawrels in the deep Of death's oblivion What their Triumph was More than the moment it did prance pass If then applause move by the vulgar crye Fame 's but a glorious uncertainty Awake Sejanus Strafford Buckingham Charge the fond favourites of greatest name What faith is in a Prince's smile what joy In th' high Grand Concilio le Roy Nay Caesar's self that march'd his Honour s through The bowels of all Kingdoms made them bow Low to the stirrop of his will and vote What safety to their Master's life they brought When in the Senate in his highest pride By two and thirty wounds he fell and dyed If Height be then most subjected to fate Honour 's the day-spring of a greater hate Now ask the Grov'ling soul that makes his gold His Idol his Diana what a cold Account of happiness can here arise From that ingluvious surfet of his eys How the whole man 's inslaved to a lean dearth Of all enjoyment for a little earth How like Prometheus he doth still repair His growing heart to feed the Vultur care Or like a Spider's envious designes Drawing the threds of death from her own loines Tort'ring his entrails with thoughts of to morrow To keep that masse with grief he gain'd with sorrow If to the clincking pastime in his ears He add the Orphanes cries and widdows tears The musick 's far from sweet and if you sound him Truly they leave him sadder than they found him Now touch the Dallying Gallant he that lyes Angling for babies in his Mistris eyes Thinks there 's no heaven like a bale of dyce Six Horses and a Coach with a device A cast of Lacquyes and a Lady-bird An Oath in fashion and a guilded Sword Can smoak Tobacco with a face in frame And speak perhaps a line of sense to th' same Can sleep a Sabboath over in his bed Or if his play book 's there will stoop to read Can kiss its hand and congey a la mode And when the night's approaching bolt abroad Unless his Honour's worship's rent's not come So he fals sick and swears the Carrier home Else if his rare devotion swell so high To waste an hour-glasse on divinity T is but to make the church his stage thereby To blaze the Taylor in his ribaldry Ask but the Jay when his distress shall fall Like an arm'd man upon him where are all The rose-buds of his youth those atick toyes Wherein hee sported out his pretious dayes What comfort he collects from Hawk or Hound Or if amongst his looser hours he found One of a thousand to redeem that time Perish'd and lost for ever in his prime Or if he dream'd of an
fry Capring upon the deep to give supply To every pretty winding brook which now With tatling springs and living plenty flow Thus Nature peep'd out in her morning dresse Though not arrived to a full readinesse And now the sixth day of God's labour dawnes Whenas the blowing meads and tufted lawns Are stock'd with lowing beasts of every kinde The bleating snowy sheep fruitful hinde All creatures of all sorts for game and food Which by the vote of heaven were very good The little world and complement of all Was only absent for whose sake they call The Grand Consilio of the gods to make Man which of earth and heaven should pertake God's Image and the globe's Epitome Must in one structure both united bee Hence then the low and lofty Steward came To head the Collonies and gave things a name Even Adam that prime moving dust that small And great Vicegerent of the God of all Thus the world walk'd abroad rich as the sun And God's work ended where Man's work begun Now that we have survey'd this tumbling Ball How whence made take a short touch on al. And first of that great mercy that prime cause From which all causes spring and take their Laws T was meerly The eternal will Love Of God reveal'd in time that did him move To raise an universe of beauty where Was neither forme nor mediate matter there And thence he fram'd not man first as the summ And supream piece of all that was to come But brought him to a Furnish'd World compleat In all proportions bad him take and eate Subdue and have dominion raign command And supervize the wonders of his hand The only homage he sought on his part Was but the service of an upright heart A pure obedience and a station in That innocency which yet had known no sin But why in just six dayes God and no more Compleated up this building and this store May some men ask Was it a type of the Fix'd Crisis of the world's Catastrophe Which the old Rabbins of the Jews suppose After six thousand years shall have its close When all flesh shall an endless Sabbath keep While sin and time death are lull'd a sleep I dare not fathom these deep misteries Conceal'd even from the very Angells eyes As the beginning of all things hid lay In the Almighty bosom where no ray Could pry into its purpose So we now May ghâ—ess the end as undiscover'd how Or when lies lapp'd up in th' obscure decree And secret cabinet of the dietie This only we dare say we know as light Began so fire shall be the world 's good night Thus having through this glorious week's work prest Where God left labour I presume to rest John chap. 18. ver 36. My Kingdom is not of this World TRue blessed Saviour true thy Kingdom 's not Of this world For we cannot finde a spot Of thy Crown Land where Geometrie may stay Her reeling compass to move any way In demonstration of that circling Round That may define th' inclosure Holy ground But since thy Church grew Stately fell down The lands are all confiscate from the Crown Conntrey freez Elders have thy Flesh hooks bin To shrive the Levites Pot and all within And never conscious of thy pious rule Leave poor Elias to th' charity of the foul Or like the Indian Astomi to smell His way to life or live by miracle Thus Sion's wasted and thy Prophets slain And Godlinesse hath proov'd the only Gain Math. chap. 11 ver 28. Come unto me all yee that labour and are heavy laden c. MOst great and glorious God! how sweet how free Is thy kinde invitation but ay mee The clogs of sin So rein me in And black shame mix'd with guilt restrains my will From all designes but doing ill So that I tremble to approach thy throne And tread the Courts of the most Holy One But yet thy Call's so powerfully good So pressing that 't is death if once withstood Nor is it less To tempt thy Holiness In this extream this streight what shall I doe I 'de come but bee accepted too But ô my loud-tongu'd sins so fill the ayre They 'le bar up heaven against my cry prayer Yet wherfore should I doubt 'T is not the call Of Cherubims or ought Angelical T is he t is hee That in that extasie Of fear to sincking Peter reach'd his hand And snatch'd him from the grave to land Jehovah he that tryes the reines and sees Our wounds and moanes our deep infirmities Shall I then with poor Adam strive to hide My nakedness with leavs Or slip a side O no he spyes my way By night as by noon day Darkness cannot exclude him nor the shade Of Hell from what his hands have made He knows our thoughts eveÌ„ long before they were And when those lips bid come can there be fear But ô 't is said hee 's a Consuming fire But ô 't is sure he now layes by his ire He thunders out With trumpets shout No Judgment from mount Sinai But a still Soft voice of love and free good will He that appear'd then in a warlike dress Seeks now the stray sheep in the Wilderness Put off thy terrors then Great God and I Shall humbly prostrate at thy foot-stool lye And there bemoan With many a groan And bitter tear my sinful sins to thee To thee alone canst pardon mee O shut not up thy mercy in disdain Nor yet remember my old sins again Impute not my youth's guilt unto my charge But thou that offer'st Rest set me at large Even from this death And hell beneath That gapes with open jaws to swallow all That on thee doe neglect to call And hardned in their sins thy spirit grieve By a contempt and wilful hate to live But ere thou coÌ„m'st bless'd God to pass me by First hide me from thy sin-abhorring eye That I may stand Like Moses cover'd with thy hand Close in the cilft of Christ's wounds in the dress And garment of his Righteousnesse And on me through his satisfaction look That on his score my sad transgressions took Receive me then but with that kinde regret The good old man his prodigal childe met Who as 't appears Devided betwixt joy and tears Ran and embrac'd kiss'd his drooping Son In all points now undone But that rich treasure of a Father's love Which nere could be exhausted nor remove Such bowels of compassion Lord put on Such pregnant yernings of affection Then hear my cry And heal my malady Though I have sinn'd yet Christ hath satisfied O Judg not for 't is he that dyed But hear the voice of his still streaming gore Which calls to thee for mercy more more Prevent not then thy Angels joy in mee To see a sinner reconcil'd to thee Nor let thy love So barren prove Or loose its end for which thou sent'st it here Even my salvation now so neer What pleasure in my bloud Lord caÌ„ there
be Or will the chambers of death honour thee Thy call is not a summons to the Bar Of Justice but a throne where mercies are Like flowing balm To mitigate and calm The tumult of a rageing conscience Whose pricking bitter ecchoing sense Holds out a flag of death whose motto runs No hope no peace no such rebellious Sons But Lord thy sweeter promise is the ground We lean build upon canst thou be found Lesse than thy self A ship-destroying shelf No though an Angel from thine Altar swear My sins unpardonable are My crimes so great cannot forgiven bee Yet Lord I come yet Lord I trust in thee O then accept my Heavy laden Soul Crush'd with the burden of her sins so foul She dares not brook Once up to look But drown'd in tears presumes to come on board And for this once to take thy word If I at last prove ship-wrack'd for my pain I 'le never venture soul more so again A Sing-song on Clarinda's Wedding NOw that Love's Holiday is come And Madg the Maid hath swept the room And trimm'd her spit and pot A wake my merry Muse and sing The Revells and that other thing That must not be forgot As the gray morning dawn'd t is sed Clarinda broke out of her bed Like Cynthia in her pride Where all the Maiden Lights that were Compriz'd w ithin our Hemisphaere Attended at her side But wot you then with much a doe They dress'd the Bride from top to toe And brought her from her chamber Deck'd in her robes and garments gay More sumptuous than the live-long-day Or Stars enshrin'd in Amber The sparkling bullose of her eyes Like two ecclipsed Suns did rise Beneath her christal brow To shew like those strange accidents Some suddain changable events Were like to hap below Her cheeks bestreak'd with white and red Like pretty tell-tales of the bed Presag'd the blustring night With his encricling armes and shade Resolv'd to swallow and invade And skreen her virgin light Her lips those threds of scarlet dye Wherein Love's charmes and quiver lye Legions of sweets did crown Which smilingly did seem to say O crop me crop me whiles you may A non th' are not mine own Her Breasts those melting Alps of snow On whose fair hills in open shew The God of Love lay napping Like swelling Buts of lively Wine Upon their ivory stells did shine To wait the lucky tapping Her waste that slender type of man Was but a small and single span Yet I dare safely swear He that whole thousands has in fee Would forfeit all so he might bee Lord of the Mannor there But now before I passe the line Pray Reader give me leave to dine And pause here in the midle The Bridegroom and the Parson knock With all the Hymeneall flock The Plum-cake and the Fidle When as the Priest Clarinda sees He stared as 't had bin half his fees To gaze upon her face And if the spirit did not move His continence was far above Each sinner in the place With mickle stir he joyn'd their hands And hamp'red them in marriage bands As fast as fast might bee Where still me thinks me thinks I hear That secret sigh in every eare Once love remember mee Which done the Cook he knock'd amain And up the dishes in a train Come smoaking two and two With that they wip'd their mouths and sate Some fell to quaffing some to prate Ay marry and welcome too In pay'â—s they thus impal'd the meat Roger and Marget and Thomas and Kate Rafe and Bess Andrew and Maudlin And Valentine eke with Sybell so sweet Whose cheeks on each side of her snuffers did meet As round and as plump as a codling When at the last they had fetched their freez And mired their stomacks quite up to yâ— knees In claret for and good chear Then then began the merry din For as it was thought they were all on the pin O what kissing and clipping was there But as luck would have it the Parson said grace And to frisking dancing they shuffled apace Each Lad took his Lass by the fist And when he had squeez'd her and gaum'd her untill The fat of her face ran down like a mill He toll'd for the rest of the grist In sweat and in dust having wasted the day They enter'd upon the last act of the play The Bride to her bed was convey'd Where knee deep each hand fell downe to the ground And in seeking the Garter much pleasure was found 'T would have made a man's arm have stray'd This clutter ore Clarinda lay Half bedded like the peeping day Behind Olimpus cap Whiles at her head each twittring Girle The fatal stocking quick did whirle To know the lucky hap The Bridegroom in at last did rustle All dissap-pointed in the bustle The Maidens had shav'd his breeches But let him not complain t is well In such a storm I can you tell He save'd his other stitches And now he bounc'd into the bed Even just as if a man had said Fair Lady have at all Where twisted at the hug they lay Like Venus and the sprightly Boy O who would fear the fall Thus both with love's sweet tapers fired And thousand balmy kisses tyred They could nor wait the rest But out the folk and candles fled And to 't they went but what they did There lyes the cream of the jest On the much to be lamented Death of that gallant Antiquary and great Master both of Law and Learning John Selden Esquire Epicedium Elegiacum THus sets th' Olimpian Regent of the day Laden with honour after a full survey Of the deep works of nature to return With greater lustre from his watery urne Thus leans the aged Cedar to the rage Of tempests which the grove for many an age Hath grac'd yet yields to be traÌ„spaÌ„lted thence T' adorn the nobler Palace of his Prince Thus droops the world after a smiling May And June of pride into a withering day And hoary winter season to appear More lovely in the buds of a fresh year Then boast not Time in the eclipsed light Of Selden's lower orbes whiles the high flight Of his enthroned Soul looks down on thee With scorn as an ungrateful enemie For in his death thou sport'st with thy own dust Whiles with his ashes thy poor glories rust Mention no more thy Acts of old nor those Grand ruines rich in thy proud overthrowes In him th' hast lost thy Titles and thy name Who dyed the Register of time and fame He was that brave Recorder of the world When age mischief had conspir'd hurl'd Vast kingdoÌ„s into shatter'd heaps who could Redeem them from their vaults of dust and mould Then raise a monument of honour to That restor'd life which death could nere undoe Such was the fal of this Tenth worthy then This Magazine of earth and heaven and men He whereas others to their ashes creep Those common elements of all that sleep Dissolv'd like some huge Vatican from