store Send it oh send it to my Love Wing'd with the feathers of thy Mothers Dove Or head it with the same desire Thou didst my shaft enspire Or take thine arrow back from me 'T is crueltie Sometimes not to be cruel Oh! Or smite both hearts or els unbend thy bow To a Lady wearing a Looking-glass at her girdle GAze not on that fair Mirrour where you see Nought but the shadow of your frailtie lie VVhere beautie staies no longer then you look On the gilt outside of that rotten look Your self where all 's but dust without and such Foul leaves within why then admir'd so much Since nothing can be lov'd but what hath been Known to the sence or to the eie bin seen VVhy should you doat upon that face which you Never yet saw nor have the pow'r to do VVhose very shape when you have often pri'd And re-examin'd every part and spi'd VVith strictest eie each line and symmetrie Is clean forgot when you remove your eie Which usual instance may instruct you not To studie that which is so soon forgot Since you nor see your self nor look upon That form but thus by meer reflection How know you or why think you are fair Is it 'cause fond admirers say you are For want of judgement or some flattring Asse Or this a great deal more dissembling glasse Tels a fair storie to your cred'lous eie VVil you believe such Romance historie VVhen the spruce gallant courts your hand and vows Saluting it he nothing whiter knows Then gazing upward on that heav'nly sphere Swears you are Angel-like beyond compare Excelling all your sex can you conceive That to be true which he did least believe VVhen th' am'rous youth looks Babies in your eies And through Loves flatt'ring optick he espies At the wrong end a world of beautie there Blinded with passion thus 'twixt hope and fear VVhen he protests he thinks he sees in you Some God-like form can you believe it too VVhen knowing men dissemble truth alas VVil you then trust a dumb deceitful glass Embrace your selfe and like Narcissus pore Upon that Christal til you start a flow'r VVhich fades as soon as blown admiring more That part your selfe then others all the store Then quit that coz'ning beam nor imitate The Mermaid to be onely upwards neat VVith comb and glass in hand when we all know You'ar either fish or what is worse below The blanched Swan with whitest plumes arrai'd Til by her own black skin and legs betraid Did think her self the fairest bird do you But look about you you 'l appear so too VVhat boots a comly presence graceful eie If all be foul except the Phisnomie Wise men admire not beauty birth or blood How rich or fair they ask not but how good First dresse your soul see that be fair and clear And then you 'l truly beautiful appear To Clarastella 'T Is not your beautie I admire Nor the bright star-light of each eie Nor do I from their beams take fire My loves torch to enlighten I No 't is a Glorie more divine Kindles my tapour at your shrine Your comly presence takes not me Nor your much more inviting meen Nor your sweet looks the Graces be Fair Creature in your picture seen No 't is your soul to which I bow 'T is none of these I love but you How blind is that Philosophie Doth onely nat'ral bodies know That views each Orb o' th' glorious skie But sees not him that made it so I love thy informing part i' th' whol And every part thy all thy soul The Farewel to Clarastella PAssion o' me why melt I thus with griefe For her whose frozen heart denies reliefe Find out some other way to punish me Yee Gods and let me not the Author be Of mine own death make me forget that e'r I lov'd at least that e'r I loved her Yet I must love her stil O cruel Fate That dost true love so il requite with hate Why e'r I saw her didst not make me blind Then had she as before continued kind Without pow'r to displease her Charitie Warm as my Love and I had stil been I But now alas my distant bliss I see Which like my courted shadow flieth mee As fast as I pursue ay mee she 's gone And with her all my winged hopes are flown But oh if you one drop of mercy have Let me request you shed it at my grave When y'hear I died for you Oh let there be One tear at least shed from your pious eies In mem'ry that I fel your sacrifice Where though I cannot yet my marble wil Gainst these soft show'rs for me some tears distil Fairest farewel and by my living love Maist thou to me when dead thus loving prove Shed from your eies perhaps one faithful tear May make my ashes quick again how e'r My shipwrackt love in these drops bath'd at last May drowning grasp what 's next and hold thee fast Which whilst I liv'd it could not thus I wil Alive and dead my Stella love thee stil On the Report of Clarastella's death SHee dead forgive me Heav'n I' ad almost swore That she 'bout her had nothing mortal wore Her soul 's immortal and her body too Since 't knew no actual sin must needs be so Our sins do drag us to our graves but she Had no such harbingers her Pietie Made her a Monarch in Divinitie And taught her how to live eternally It is not likely guilty death shou'd take Such Innocence away from us or make Immortal Virtue die old Adam sure Had liv'd til now could he have liv'd as pure And free from either act or thought of vice Hee had surviv'd this age in Paradice Our sins are our diseases onely they Invoke pale death whom we all must obey When he arrests us for these debts we know Life 's the cheap ransome for the sums we owe VVhich she ne'r forfeited 'cause no disease Upon her body or her soul could seize She was so sound and perfect why should I Believe that Clarastella then could die If wantonnesse durst steal into her mind 'Midst her sweet dreams leaving a touch behind Of phansied pleasure yet she wakt a maid And blushing that she should be thus betrai'd By her own guiltlesse thoughts she feard to tel Ev'n what her visions were nor knew she wel What was their pleasant meaning or if shee Did but by chance two Lovers kissing see Shee thought they did but imitate the Dove Thus to affect with chast Platonick love Her salutations deckt with modestie Did like her smiles expresse humilitie Thus was she perfect Virgin whilst her love Knew n'other object but the Gods above How then durst death tow'rds her his dart advance Whose onely sin was harmless ignorance Why should I fondly drooping let mine eies Yeild at the news a liquid sacrifice Or let her dying rumour wound my years Whose virtue did deserve a Nestors years I 'l not believe then she is dead since I Know she hath merited
cause her feet are now Iambick made Refrigerium NOw through each vein my blood doth run Hot as the Summers scorching Sun Whilst on what side so è'r I turn With double frying flames I burn To cool both Aelna's first I 'l have An Arbour coole as is the grave And with green shadie branches wove As covert as Dodona's grove So that the Sun may not appear At all in this close Hemisphere With Curran-bushes I 'l hav 't made Vail'd o'r with Sycamores coole shade And mixt with Rasps and Cherrytrees Whose choice fruit may my pallat please I' th' midst of which next shal be spread Upon a large and spacious stead A frost-upon-green tabbie Quilt Water'd as if 't had there bin spilt Strew'd o'r with Roses where I may Naked my lazie limbs display And underneath't a Christal stream Of fresh Rose-water still'd from them Through th' limbeck of my body that My smelling Sense may recreate A marble Fountain next I 'l have Close by in a large hollow cave Springing with Nilus seav'nfold streams Til they all meet in one fair Thames Washing in whose pure waters we Diana and her Nymphs may see With other lively Pictures that My Seeing sense may recreate Next I wil have Arion play Upon a Dolphins back whose lay Shal teach each bird to chirp and trie How to excel his harmonie Orpheus his harp Apollo's lyre Shal with the Syrens fill the Quire With other sorts of Musick that My hearing Sense may recreate A Mirmaid next I 'l have in stead o th' Barber for to kemb my head All the four Winds too shal conspire With gentle breize to coole my fire Till I being fann'd with Ladies love Then their cold Sex shall colder prove Last because nought cools better then A Maid who warms and cooles agen I 'l have a young plump amorous Queen Ripe though she be not yet fifteen 'Twixt whose close arms and snowie breast I may diffuse my heat and rest Then bath my self in kisses that My Feeling Sense may recreate Thus when at once I all my Senses please Me thinks I feel my self in Paradise ELEGIES By Robert Heath Esquire LONDON Printed for HUMPHRY MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Shop at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. Elegies On the Death of the young and pious Ladie Mrs C. P. SO yong and ripe in judgement fit for heaven A Saint shee was on earth before eleven What Virtue was there lodg'd in this smal world Whose soul grew faster then the body could Sins shee had none but what curst Nature gave Yet e'r she knew 't shee long'd this world to leave Where but new enter'd she with pious rage Her Prologue spoke doth bravely quit the stage Oh happy growth that in so short a time This early blossome thus to heav'n could climb Epicedium On the beautiful Lady Mrs A. K. unfortunately drowned by chance in the Thames in passing the Bridge DRown'd and i' th' Thames oh how I grieve to see Such fair streams act so foul a Tragedie Not all thy main which twice a day doth flow Can wash this guilt from off thy conscious brow Like the dead sea thou look'st whilst every wave Thou wear'st now seems to be another grave Forgetful Lethe or the Stygian Lake As thou foul Tyber looks not halfe so black How horrid thou appear'st and thou dost tast Sowre and not half so pleasant as thou wast Rome now wil fear to drink thee since thou 'rt dyde With such chast guiltlesse blood and none wil ride More on thy ruder waves thy crueltie Since 't would not spare so fair a Saint as shee How I could flow with anger chide thee too But thou art innocent as pure I know 'Las 't was her Fate unhappy Destinie Thus to thy streams to adde more puritie Thou 'rt become white agen an Element Fit to receive a soul so innocent Whose body buried in thy Christal tomb Transparent lies scorning earths baser womb Gilt Tagus banks nor the Pectalian Can boast such Golden treasures as you can Thou didst but lend her to the Earth awhile Thou hast thy Pearl again now Thamis smile 'T is fit such gems should by the makers hands Shine thus transplanted to their native sands On the Death of the excellent fair Lady the Lady A. R. HOw blindly erting were those Painters that Did without eies grim Death delineate Did he not ayming shoot and shooting hit 'Midst the Arcadian Nymphs this fairest white This whitest Venus Dove without his light How had he found this mark or shot so right Thus as he aiming stood and in his heart Relenting doubted whether his fel dart He should or spare or send so long he gaz'd Upon her Beauties splendour all amaz'd That the bright raies she darted did so shine And dazle the beholding Archers eyne That whilst he trembling shot and made her light Extinct the beams of that put out his sight And so e'r since Death hath been blind indeed On her fair Tomb this Epitaph shal be read Beautie here on Death reveng'd Triumphant lies Whose Glories won all hearts put out all eies On the losse of Mr N. W. his three finggers cut off at the battel of Edgehil he being both a Poet and a Musitian BY some it hath been said That the best Musick is by discord made But here I grieve to see By discords we have lost our harmonie How cruel was that hand Depriv'd thee of thy cunning fingers and At one unhappy blow Cut off an Orpheus and a Poet too How sadly the strings rest E'r since those fingers which before exprest On them such lively art Were thus dissected from their constant part Yet though these joynts be gone To quiet ease two fingers stil are on Which with dexteritie Can write the Epitaph o' th' t'other three And though you cannot play Yet stil both sing and versifie you may Naenia Upon the death of my dear friend T. S. Esquire slain at the first fight at Newbery 1645. PAle Ghost I weep not 'cause thy precious blood Honour'd when spilt a cause so just so good Nor grieve I 'cause so much that suffer'd too I' th' losse of such a Champion as you This makes my heart afresh with thy wounds bleed A Loyal Subject and my friend is dead One whose unborrow'd native Wit proclaim'd Him sole Apollo's heire whose Vertues fam'd Him with Pandora's gifts endow'd whose parts Did stile him Master of all noble Arts One whose Youths sprightful valour did encline To acts Heroick without help of wine One who prefer'd the cause he had in hand Above his life before his fathers land One that was forward yet not desp'rate bold A coward in ill acts yet durst behold Death in his uglyest vizar This was Hee Who lov'd his friend and feard no Enemie Who nobly thus did seek an early grave Because he scorn'd to live a subjects slave Wide was the Orifice sure of thy large wound Els had thy great and gallant soul ne'r
found So easie passage thence to sallie out And leave her so lov'd seat to range about Th' Elesian groves My souls best part adieu I 'l bathe thy wound in tears though wounded too Drie eies forbear this urn oh come not neer To read this Epitaph without a tear Spirit of Wit and Valour here doth lie Doubly entomb'd i' th' Readers heart and eie Upon the lingring death of the Virtuous Mrs L. H. DEath I not blame thy subtiltie In cutting off this Happy Shee Ne'r didst thou yet in thy black list enroul So fair a soul Thy Envie snatcht her hence lest wee By her example taught should be Immortaliz'd by virtue and live stil Against thy wil For hadst thou spar'd her yet awhile And not prevented by this wile Our grand design thou'adst lost thy sting and wee Not feared thee Coward thou didst by slow degrees Upon her Vital spirits ceaze Els had shee summon'd pow'r enough to stand Thy armed hand Subtile and envious Coward thus Thou 'ast spoiled Nature robbed us Yet I not blame thee thou'adst no other way To get thy prey Upon the Death of the truly valiant Sir Bevil Grenvil slain SEE where in Western clouds our Sun is set Whilst those thick groves of Pikes of him beset To guard his Valour trembled all and shoke With Aspen fear soon as this stately Oke Was cleft with fatal thunder every head Droops like pearl'd Violets now Grenvil's dead Wee need no Gods of Egypt to exhale Salt rivers from our eies and force us waile His sorrowed absence no sowre peele or Rue To damp our looks to Pharisaick hue From Grenvil's Herse each cheek is watered And scorns to wear a smile now he is dead Did I not view Heav'ns great unarmed bow I might suspect Deucalion would o'r-flow The drenched world again and in his name Erect a new eternal Ark of Fame What sudden inundation else could thus As in a second deluge bury us Alive and waft us by a quick return To shades what fire but that of his bright urne Could melt each Muse to liquified verse And thus dissolve in Elegiack tears What Ocean but his Virtues could have drunk So many flouds from weeping eies or sunk So many drowning hearts at whose sad fall A deep groan'd Diapason drowneth all And blends at once our Harmonie Oh I could curse that Planet that did reign At thy first birth and e'r since smiling shine Til this unluckie hour it frown'd on thee Prompting our Stars to bode us miserie For if our hopeful cause should gasping lie I 'de swear it languisht since she saw thee die Upon the unfortunate death of the truly gallant and noble Gent. Ed. Sackvil Esquire THy pow'r pale envious death I now defie Thy rage is spent in this one Tragedie Thou 'ast purloin'd our chief wealth and in one hour Rob'd Honours Garland of its choisest flow'r Now do thy worst thy life-depriving dart Can no more Conquest bring nor deeper smart Oft his tri'd Valour in the open field Dar'd thee where since thou couldst not make him yield Now by a weak and clandestine surprize Thou smit'st him unawares by cowardize Yet went he arm'd against that fatal blow Which sin did print upon his flesh not you Then be not proud of this thy spoil since he Did wish to more then you could make him die For now he lives fam'd to posteritie Both for his Virtues and his Loyaltie The gallant spirit of whose youthful heat Doth with his urnes clear oyle perpetuate VVe weep not then because he dy'd but thus The strange chance doth strange wonder claim in us Hee that but newly chang'd his mortal life In sacred wedlock with a happy VVife Is forc'd by th' ignorant malice of worse men To change it for a happ'er once agen Hee whose rich Virtues gain'd each man his friend That knew them both to his untimely end Thus brought by foes if any he could have Hath with his precious corps enricht the grave Hee Hee is gone and nought but sorrow left To mind us of the good we are bereft For 't is not onely Hee we all are dead As when the Sun sets flow'rs seem withered Nor doth his Fam'ly onely lose a stem The Kingdome suffers in the losse of him More I should say but sullen griefe denies I 'l sigh and vent the rest with weeping eies Elegie Upon the death of that thrice valiant Lord the Lord Bernard Stewart slain in the fight neer VVest-Chester BOast not proud death of this thy Victorie In killing him who thus resolv'd to die Hadst thou a life to lose I would on thee Revenge his too too early Destinie But Coward thou nor spirit hast nor heat Els thou wouldst neer ha' smit so brave so great A Person that on thy dread Tragick stage Fought on thy side and in that bloodie rage To thy black shades so many breathlesse sent Perhaps thou feardst his highborn furie meant With fierce assault thy conqu'ring selfe disarm Sans fear of death he fought so at which alar'm Lest he thy territories should invade And so usurp thy pow'r thou wast afraid So ' 'caus thy jealous fear would admit none A Rival in thy Empire thou so soon Didst cut him off Happy unhappy he Right noble born and dying here doth lie Whose single Death-despising Valour made His greatest enemie Death it selfe afraid On the Death of that most famous Musician Mr VV. Lawes slain in this unhappy Civil Warr SUch is the strange Antipathie between The Wolfe and sheep that a Drum with Wolves skin Headed and beat the partchment bottome breaks And soundless to the stick no answer makes So the Wolfe 's by the * Lambstrings break so * dumb Is th'other when you sound a Wolves-skin'd Drum By Wolves our Orpheus thus oppos'd was slain His Lyres offended strings thus crackt in twain At their harsh foes approach and rang his knell Such untun'd souls who discord lov'd too well Knew not the Heav'n of Musicks harmonie And who not love't dull or il-natur'd be But more enraged grew Else like those Wild beasts Amphion tam'd they wou'd ha' rose Inspir'd with love and kist those hands whose aires Ravisht the birds and taught the heav'nly Spheres To move in pleasing consort But e'r sin ' Our Lawes expir'd this Common-wealth hath bin Quite out of tune Could his surviving laies Yet ' swage our Genius as Pythagoras VVith his soft accents and sweet streins subdu'd And well appeas'd a mad-brain'd multitude I 'de swear they were Divine whose pow'rful breath Could Eccho his rare concords after death And in Loves Symphonie unite each part This had been done by Lawes his hand and Art Had he but liv'd e'r now Melpomene Mourn then for earth hath lost her harmonie EPIGRAMS The first Book By Robert Heath Esquire Quam nihil hoc aliud vel malé praestat agam. LONDON Printed for HUMPHRY MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Sho at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. To
might or moult or clip His speedy wings whilst on her lip I quench my thirsty appetite With the life honey dwels on it Oh for a Crane-like neck that may This Nectar slowly thence convey Then on this holy Altar I Would sacrifice eternally Offring one long continued mine Of Golden pleasures to thy shrine I mean not Pompeys biting kiss Flora did so commend nor his Venerious sip Catullus us'd Where lip-salve was from each infus'd No a more holy chast impresse May th' image of each mind expresse As perfect as the wax the seal Such kisses do not wound but heal Kissing thou sacred kissing art Onely the intellective part Of pleasure by which union Our souls discourse and meet in one Fixt Center whilst in a ful kiss Each am'rous line concentred is Nor doth it violate Chastitie Or forfeit like Adulterie The dowry now as heretofore When but to speak or see was more Immodest deem'd at least as much A Woman as 't is now to touch Thus with chast lips we blow Loves fire To a live coal thus fan it higher Thus do we seal affections band VVhich onely death can cancel and VVhilst both our hearts and lips do meet Thus do our souls each other greet Thus we engender speaking Love Peculiar only to the Dove Whereas all other bodies heat Of Lust doth them incorporate But only in the act yet we Thus renew love t' eternitie With fresh unsated appetite And without shame or sad regret Which true experience doth prove The difference betwixt Lust an Love Then let us kiss like Turtles close Until we both seem one til those That see our hearts saluting thus Shal not disturb but envy us Coyness in women makes men more Suspect they 'l do behind the door If thus you think I kiss too much Know that my love to you is such That whensoe'r it pleaseth you I 'l closer kiss drink deeper too To Clarastella Why Lovers walk round 'T Is oft observ'd that those who are in love Do when they walk in spherick circle move A motion to its nature genuine So move the Heav'ns and Love that is divine And heav'n-deduced draws like that his gest A round because that figure is the best Love is a Labyrinth wherein wandring men Tread the same pensive measur's o'r agen The Soul her feet th' affection guides and moves To the same object that she truly Loves Thus when I walk so often round I move To thee the Center Nature bids me love A Pastoral Protest of Love by Damon to Stella WHen I thee all o'r do view I all o'r must love thee too By that smooth forehead wher 's exprest The candour of thy peaceful breast By those fair twin-like-stars that shine And by those apples of thine eyn By the Lambkins and the Kids Playing 'bout thy fair eie-lids By each peachie blossom'd cheek And thy Sattin skin more sleek And white then Flora's whitest Lillies Or the maiden Daffadillies By that Ivorie porch thy nose By those double blanched rows Of teeth as in pure Coral set By each azure rivolet Running in thy temples and Those flowrie meadows 'twixt them stand By each Pearl-tipt ear by Nature as On each a Jewel pendant was By those lips all dew'd with bliss Made happy in each others kiss By those pure Vermilion cherries Thy red nipples and those strawberries Swimming there as set in cream By those two curld locks that seem To wreath thy Lover in wav'd art That from thee he ne'r should part By those silk tresses soft as down Of tender Eunuches newly blown That vail your body round when e'r In your own shades you 'd less appear By that silver stately neck Doth thy gems more grace and deck Then they can it by those two Soft and wool-warme mounts of snow By each Alablaster hand And those slender joynts that stand So streight and closely set each palm Seems a young tree distilling balm Midst that pregnant Hemisphear By the fair knot that 's planted there By those moving columns bear This Globe and the lov'd frame uprear By those pretty nimble feet Wont in skilful measures meet By the neat fabrick of the whole Fair as the world from either Pole Whose each part is Paradise And Heav'n both in and round it is By thy self when thee I view I love thy all and each part too Occasional POEMS By Robert Heath Esquire Majores majora sonent mihi parva locute Sufficit in vestras saeperedire manus Mart. li 9. Ep. 1. LONDON Printed for HUMPHRY MOSELEY and are to be sold at his Shop at the signe of the Princes Arms in S. Pauls Church-yard 1650. Occasional Poems To an old Gentlewoman that would have her Picture drawn WHat strange impossibles are those That one fam'd Myron you impose Drawn to the life you 'd be you say When you are dying every day In colours too when there 's but one All o'r your face and that is dun Hee l draw 't is like thy shadows true For thou art all but shadow'd blue If fair then thou wu'dst counted be His pigments let him lay on thee And with a trowel dawb and sleek The wroughcast of each wrinkled cheek Else but in vain he shal on you Spend both his oyl and labour too Drawn with black lead or with a coal Over some Alehouse chimney wal Thy picture best wil semble thee By some rough Dialler when he Shal underwrite in meeter this The widow of Sarepta is Or 't wil shew best through lattice-work Here an old woman there the Turk Yet if thou needs must have it done Let me say this in caution Unto thy Painter that he plie And speed his work or thou wilt die Before the third dayes sitting when If thou canst live so long that then Because thou lt ne'r be at th' expence To take thy il lookt figure thence He would but send the piece to me I 'd rather have it far then thee To hang up mongst my Sybels or Foul Hags lest some mistake thee for One of the Fatal Destinies Or Helbred Furies worse then these But I 'm afraid 't is his design To sel thee for some Tavern sign If he not hang thee out a loof o th' back o th' Change as weather proof And I shal see thee thy ruin'd face Hang out in Southwark old Queen Bess Epithalamium Amatorium To Aurora WHy peeps the envious Morne so soon upon The pleasures of our bed Pul back thy fierie coursers Phaeton And drive not til I bid And lest thy headstrong steeds their reins shu'd break That Virgin girdle take I now unti'd too soon for you it is And me our rosie nests to leave and rise Have I so many tedious Suns beheld And nights in sighing spent E'r to temptation I could make her yield And would you now prevent The long-wisht harvest of my joys delight Nor grant as long a night Go back to thy lov'd Thetis bosome go Whilst in our beds wee 'l sport it longer too I 'd
after many yawns and feined shows Of a transported mind at last the Elf Delivers nonsence like the mouth of Delph Leave leave thou russet Rabbi leave for shame And do not thus abuse that holy name And function of a Preacher drive agen Currie thy horses and not Christian men Else prophane huckster with thy whip thou maist E'r long be scourg'd and forth the Temple cast On the unusual cold and rainie weather in the Summer 1648. WHy puts our Grandame Nature on Her winter coat e'r summers done What hath she got an ague fit And thinks to make us hov'ring sit Over her lazie Embers else why should Old Hyems freeze our vernal bloud Or as we each day grow older Doth the world wax wan and colder 'T is so See how nakt Charitie Sterves in this frozen age whilst we Have no other heat but glow-worm zeal Whose warmth we see but cannot feel All chang'd are Ceres golden hairs To clouded grey and nought appears In Flora's dresse our hopes do die And o th' sudden blasted lie Heav'ns glorious lamps do wast away The Elements themselves decay And the mixt bodies mutinie By a rebellious sympathie Whilst the distemper'd world grows pale And sickning threatens death to all So in an instant waters swept The old worlds monsters whilst they wept It's funeral but the new world's sins Are so deep di'd no floud can rinse Nothing but lightning and Heav'ns fire Can purge our pestilential aire Farewel to passionate Love FArewel fond Love I 'l never bow Slave like unto my fetters I Fair Sex I 'l not adore you now Yet love you as my libertie Love grown adust with Melancholy To madness turns or extream folly About and with your fires I 'l play But with as loose and gentle touch As boys from hand to hand toss away Live coals lest they should burn too much Too ne'r his heart who lets love come Suffers a wilful Martyrdome Stout Souldiers in an Enemies land March not too far sans fear or wit E'r they resolve or to withstand Or wisely make a safe retreat Bodies when joyn'd engaged are Piqueering's better sport by far The Excuse To the Ladie E. B. YOur lovely fair did first invite Me to that strange demand Your wanton eie big with delight Made me to understand You pleasant as your looks where every glance Did raise and court my warm bloud to advance Then blame not me for loving you Who if alow'd would not do so Henceforth I 'l sit demure by you Nor speak when you w'ud hear Just as I w'ud your picture view Behold you and admire For if I speak you prompt my tongue with love And 'cause I tel 't you you unkind reprove Then blame not me for saying so Since 't was your beauty bid me woe Equalitie To two fair Mistresses SHal I freize between two fires Or doth a numness ceaze on me Each star inflames me with desires Yet which to chuse I cannot see Since reason admires equally Then give me both For faith and troth I should be loath Each should not pleased be Or you who so perfect are That nature hath her self outdone In making you bright lights so fair Rule by your turns that so each one May cool the heat o th' to'other Sun And Love me both For faith and troth I should be loath Each should not pleased be To a friend Ode AFfect not aierie Popularitie But what thou wouldst be thought that strive to be Praise is but Virtues shadow who court her Doth more the handmaid then the Dame admire Who only doth wel wel spoke of to bee Studies the praise and not the virtue he To blaze thy virtues ne'r bespeak thy friend If good they speak thee and themselves commend Now men but judge by heare-say thus they 'l know And see thy worth and judge it greater too True worth is best displaid by modestie The greatest rivers slide most silentlie Only the shallow brooks do prattle they Make a great noise and go but little way Fame that doth feed o th' vaine applause of men Gapes to its Eccho to be heard agen And like this lives awhile by others breath Which being stopt is husht to silent death Good actions crown themselves with lasting baies Who deserves wel needs not anothers praise Virtue 's her own reward though Eugâ— none Wil cry 't is Guerdon yet to have wel done A sudden Phansie at Midnight HOw i st we are thus melancholie what Are our rich ferkins out or rather that Which did inspire them the Immortal wine That did create us like it self divine Or are we Nectar-sated to the hight Or do we droop under the aged night If so weelvote it ne'r to be eleven Rather then â—â—us to part at six and seaven Moult then thy speedy wings old Time and be As slow-pac't as becomes thy age that we May chirp awhile and when we take our ease Then flie and poast as nimbly as you please Play the good fellow with us and sit down A while that we may drink the to'ther round I 'l promise here is none shal thee misuse Or pluck thee by the foretop in abuse Time saies he wil nor can he stay 'cause he Thinks him too grave for your young companie It makes no matter Sirs How say you yet toth'tother Subsidie Yes yes And let our Ganymede nimbly flie And fil us of the same Poetick sherrie Ben-Iohnson us'd to quaffe to make him merrie Such as would make the grey-beard botles talk Had they but tongues or had they legs to walk Such as would make Apollo smile or wu'd Draw all the Sisters to our Brotherhood And though the bald Fool staies not let him know Wee l sit and drink as fast as he shal go So as the salt Anchovis swam in oyl Wee 'l make them swim again in sacks sweet spoil On a Map of the World accidentally faln into the water and spoiled THe world drown'd once agen sure holy text Saies it should be by fire dissolved next Deucalion then weeps for this world as much As once for th' old he did it's sins are such And as before he drown'd a world of men In figure thus by chance it sinks agen Who Plato's book of Commonwealth did view By mice devour'd and thought thence would ensue A fatal Period of the publick State Would ha' presag'd the like unhappy fate Had but he seen this were attending us And construed this dire chance as ominous I 'l not obtrude for truths Prophetick dreams Yet Mara's waters like Nil's seavnfold streams ' Tofore that gently did but wet this Land Now in a purple lake of bloud do stand And quite o'rwhelm't and which is worse we fear No Olivebranch wil e'r agen appear The Microcosme of individual man See how that wavers in an Ocean Of perillous inconstancie whilst phlegme And crude raw humours quench the fires in him That his split-sailes bear not the gentlest blast See how the Moral world in strife doth wast And by like jarring doth
colour too But Bolder Poets when they falsifie They do 't as neatly they in Print do lie Epitaph on John Newter REader John Newter who erst plaid The Jack on both sides here is laid Who like th' herb John Indifferent Was nor for King or Parliament Yet fast and loose he could not play With death he took him at a Bay What side his soule hath taken now God or Div'l we hardly know But this is certain since he dy'd Hee hath been mist of neither side A Question about Law ONe ask'd why th' Law was now so much neglected Marry said I it never was respected But stil declin'd ee'r since the Judges ruffs Were turn'd to little falling bands and cuffs To my Book-seller I'Ave common made my book 't is very true But I 'd not have thee prostitute it too Nor show it barefac'd on the open stall To tempt the buyer nor poast it on each wall And corner poast close underneath the Play That must be acted at Black-Friers that day Nor fee some Herring-cryer for a groat To voice it up and down with tearing throat Nor bid thy 'prentice read it and admire That all i' th' shop may what he reads enquire No profer'd wares do smel I 'd have thee know Pride scorns to beg Modestie fears to wooe On Mr Fanning the Engastrometh TO speak within and to ones selfe and yet Bee heard is much yet Fanning doth it So tall and stout a man 't is strange to see 't So like a coward should his words down eat The belly hath no ears they say yet his Hath ears to hear and tongue to talk I wis On the Invention of Printing and Guns A Souldier found at first the way to Print And 't was a German Munk did Guns invent Thus like arm'd Pallas learning doth depend On arms nor can they without this defend To Megaera MEgaera since thy ugly face would fright The Div'l himselfe and all that look on it Prithee why dost thou wear a looking-glasse I cast a figure for that cause she saies To fright him from me and each lustful eie Fear't not I 'l warr'nt thee none shal tempt thee I For he that should on thy face doat I 'd swear Both blind and mad bewitcht indeed he were On Plot PLot now he 's married and keeps house I hear Is like his butter mad but twice a year In Hymens sheets good-fellowship may lie Thus bedred and in time expiring die To VV. B. a smal Poet ONe distick well-made 's worth two Poems ill Prithee contract then thine to disticks Will The Stonie Age 'TO fore there was a Golden Age next that A Silver one but now 't is Iron all To what I tro wilt next degenerate To stone I think in stead of Minerall To Captain Nym BEtimes thou findst me e'r I stir and sai'st Thy mornings draught o'r night thou promis'd wast But thou nor car'st so much for that or me My breeches in the chair thou com'st to see Thy plot prevented thus thou fliest hence In hast to th' next friend with the like pretence Whose pockets you surprising borrow there Without his leave a crown perhaps for fear More mist might be discover'd for thy friend Shouldst thou but ask it would not six pence lend Thus each friends hinder Phob thy want supplies Whence thou dost raise thy daily subsidies And pick some crums of comfort but alas Nym th' other night by Festus couzned was With whom he needs would lie for Festus did Not think his money safe though under 's bed But hid it in Nyms pocket thought he ne'r Wil shifting Nym look once for money there Thus Nym protected what he els had stole Better to venter thus then lose the whole To Mutus MUtus where e'r he comes in companie Sits stil observes speaks not a word to any Are you a spie or State-informer grown Set to pick treason when we are high flown From out our harmless mirth forgive me pray I 'ave wrong'd you Mutus you can nothing say To Jealous JEalous if any laughs is angry straight Suspects they jeer at him oh foolish Wight Because another smiling wries his nose Wilt thou betray thy selfe and so expose Thee to more laughter though you guilty bee Yet I dare say there 's no man thought of thee On Taurus I Taurus told that his wife many lov'd Hee lov'd her better 'cause she was approv'd I said they us'd her then he made reply I care not so they use her wel not I. Oh wilful Cuckold who wil pittie thee That when you 're told won't believe til you see On Swill ON fasting-daies Swill eats and drinketh fast Plaies fast hopes thus the world wil alwaies last Thus Swil doth fast while the rule Fast and Pray Hee onely changes into feast and play On Resolute Bat. AS rough as bear-skins for behaviour A bisket face as hard for favour As blunt as back of knife as dul As whetstone or cram'd capon ful His talk as women backward flat And though laught at he 's Resolute Bat Hee 'l to the Club and prate his share Or more pay lesse than any there Oh what a pretty thing is it To be but bold though without wit To Veta an old Shrew YOur husband musters old things quite forgotten As men eat Medlers when they are quite rotten All th' rags of time he hangs up he can see Keep out of 's sight or els he 'l hang up thee To Big BIg why hast got so smal a wife 't is best Thou sai'st of evils we should chuse the least Thou hop'st to overlay her that 's thy plot Kil her and get another is it not To Maechus TO be most idle thou maist well be sed Whilst lazily thou dost thy work abed On Captain Sharke SHarkes Creditor promis'd oft at length did say Hee now begun to fear hee ne'r wou'd pay You need not fear it Sir Sharke made replie I ne'r intended to repay it I. To Boldface BOldface I wonder at thy impudence That dar'st affirm things so against all sence For shame be n't impudent and foolish too And think all men are fooles 'cause you are so To Phydias a Painter I Phydias askt how he could paint a maid Find mee but one I 'l paint her then he said On Choeril CHoeril because his wife is somewhat il Uncertain in her health indifferent stil Hee turns her out of doors without reply Wondring at which I askt the reason why In sickness and in health saies he I 'm bound Onely to keep her either weak or sound But now shee 's neither he replies you 'l see Shee 'l quickly now or mend or end saies hee On Stupro STupro on horseback saies hee 'l ride no more 'T is 'cause hee hath been jaded much before Hee may the Trojan Palfrey now bestride The living jades are fiery hot to ride On Swillmore SWillmore grown dry with talking drinks til hee Was got so drunk he could nor speak nor see His windy words soxt him some
know Whether the world in ninty seav'n or no As Hoord affirms shal be dissolv'd for this More fit and to be known more easie is My husband 's now about some land to buy And I 'd not have him throw 't away said she By no means let him do 't said Sarah no But rather in Reversion let him ' stow His money at that fatal period when The world for certein must dissolve for then Th' earth for a thousand years shal leased be To us the Saints for little saied She To quit this was a learned Quaere made By a thin antiquated Chambermaid Run mad with reading Dod and Broughton where She scruples whether Aarons Ephod were Of the skie colour or seawater green The dyers all of Amsterdam have been Long in dispute about the question Next the point of Praedestination Was startled to perplex the more in haste From this to Freewil these Heav'n drivers past And Squirrel-like as nimbly leapt from this As o'r one bog to another wild Irish Like th' dogs that lapt at Nilus seav'nfold stream They lick the flouds now they have troubled them Or as young Scepticks in Philosophie From Air to Water Fire to Earth wil flie Peripateticks in Divinitie O'r all its Elements thus they likewise hie As nimbly with their tongues as standing stil O'r th' world a man in a map travel wil With 's eie in one short minute yet not know Where the Moguls rich country stands or how His own is rul'd In every doubt at last All unresolv'd each to their homes do haste With their boss'd Bibles truss'd beneath their arms Thumb'd in the Revelation and the Psalms Bodie O death who should they meet at door But Grace the waiting maid that saltchin'd whore Who before she the Paedagogue had wed Took all preventives and when e'r she sped Toucht Sowbread Gladdon us'd and Savin food To slink her spurious and abortive brood Procur'd for her dear Madams daughters taught Them to leap oft soon as their wembs were fraught Yet with her cloak as holy face now wears Where little hair much Sanctitie appears Lord how she sighs in direful accents that Private affairs had made her come so late What matter i st How d'ee her quondam friend Her Ladies gentle Go-before doth find Her there renews acquaintance and thence brings Her to his Laundresse private house and flings Her down on the refreshing mat the bed Being ta'ne away and nothing but the sted There lest to hold the sport up since the poor Old Bawd her bedcloaths found too fast were wore Each met their comforters before they went To their tup Cuckolds so the day was spent But I am no Sir Pandarus of Troy To sent each City stop or close dequoy I am no Pimp or Constable if more Sinners you 'd find search Bridewel there be store Who though they been't all sanctifi'd alike Yet are as right for the cause Catholick SATYR 3. The Argument The formal breeding of an heire I' th' City is described here Where the more formal States-man his Admired creature pourtraid is MAn is a laughing Creature who in this And a soul rational distinguisht is From brutish beasts yet even they not have Like use of Reason seem they wise or grave Follies in them pitty or laughter move In men of wiser judgement to reprove Whose open Errours with as publike smiles Is best for silent pitty but beguiles And hardens follie by connivance we By precept and example taught must be Yet both are scarce enough to instruct or wean Some from the Simples which they first suckt in With their flit nurses milk for sure it is Midwives and Nurses make men fools or wise Why should not Cosmus els that City heir Whose education was the onely care Of his indulgent parents wiser prove For see how like a Puppet he doth move Or Quarter-striker turns upon his toe As in a frame when he saluteth you Good manners are not bought at th' change or Schools Art's Nature servant Fools wil stil be fools Yet wasters could he manage for Pruans wel At Islington on Sundayes and to tel You truth had learnt to dance but that his ear And he both so inapprehensive were But he is rich hath fin'd for Sheriff twice And wears good cloathes yet out of them or his Mean rabscab companie looks like what he was First born and bred that is a precious Asse So there 's a river in Boetia Wherein the fishes shine like gold they say But taken thence look but as other frie The City seldome breeds Gentilitie Til three or four discents No Oake can be Upon a Peartree graft so contrarie And wide their Natures are But see his friend Whom he so often walks with to Mile-end The Fencer Peregrin that brags he can Kil at Duello more than any man Has rules to print the flesh as the Stoccata Passada Punto and the Imbroccata With more Italian postures by a groom Yet was disarm'd beat and kickt out o' th' room The other Morn at th' Trumpet could not skil Guard him from such a sawcie foot as wel Hang 't this is horse-play saies he oh the sence Of discreet manhood valiant patience Thus men discover'd are by th' companie They keep and throughly known els why wou'd he Delight in Dabcok that Town-gul whose nose And face are as ridiculous as cloathes Marrie to laugh at that himself might bee Thought wiser though God knows but one degree As ugly Ladies waiting faces get More ugly them the better off to set Many o' th' City have such properties To worship them and with forc't laughter please For is 't not brave to be the best i' th' room Pay all have all respect and after come To be admir'd by Squndrels Formal I Am most incens'd with yet whose gravity Outweighs all other parts his speech is cream Starcht as his beard takes his hat off by th' brim Methodically 'twixt two fingers while His face of Essayes seldom deigns to smile Like one i' th' Isle of eggs he nicely walks Affects strange sawces like a Sophister talks Respects none that wear worser cloathes than he And thinks himself the rare Academie More proud of 's little wit neat hose than e'r Incaeptor was of 's gown the first whole year Loves to be eied yet looks nor drinks below The salt seems gravely wise is nothing so How practis'd is this policie for most men Study more how to seem judicious than To be so herein whilst their best wisdome lies To hide their follies in Scholastick guise This is a fit companion Cosmus wear This Bristol Diamond in thy copper ear 'Fore him that young proud Statist I must hate Whose face is all Mosaick intricate And ful of artificial gravitie Talks to himself where e'r he goes with eie By speculation downward fixt though he Looks higher than his foretop hopes to be O' th' Privie Councel and wil whispring tel News known as doubtful as an Oracle This is that other earwig crept into Cosmus