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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A65342 Songs and poems of love and drollery by T.W. T. W. (Thomas Weaver), 1616-1663. 1654 (1654) Wing W1193; ESTC R2846 31,664 128

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poor Welsh Pedigree By thy warm fostering bounty did divide And open straight springs forth a Parricide As if 't were just vengeance should be dispatcht On thee by th'Monster which thy self hadst hatcht Despair not though in Wales there may be got As well as Lincolnshire an Antidote ' Gainst the worst venom he can spit though's head Were chang'd from subtil grey to pois'nous red Heav'n with propitious eyes will look upon Our party now the accursed Thing is gone And scourge the Rebels who naught else did miss To fill the measure of their sins but His Whose foul unparallell'd Apostacy Like to his Sacred Character shall be Indelible and 's Infamy with late And happier ages when impartial fate A period to his dayes and sins shall give By some such Epitapth as this shall live Lo here Yorks Metropolitan is laid Who Gods Annointed and the Church betrayd To the Isle of MAN Upon Occasion of the Lord BYRON'S landing there HAil happy Ile to whom the wind And sea are by their fury kind Whilst waves that threaten to turn o're Invade not but protect the shore Thou that of late didst only stand As the Center of our Kings command But by hard fate art at this day The whole circumference of his sway See a dear pledg of Loyalty The terror once of those whom he Now shuns brave Byron doth repair To pant in thy untaunted air Much has he toil'd to hurt the foes Much to help friends as bad as those But of his Labours no one more Hath wearied him then giving o're Yet to thy shore no griefs he brings No sad complaints o'th'state of things On what is lost he will not lose One word or thought but rather chuse To search the means how to prevent Our future hopes from like event His courage though success withstood Like 's cause is stil the same still good Receive him then and let him be Welcome to thy good Lord and thee So may thy fertile Land and Seas Abound in all things that may please Great Derby and his highborn Spouse And make their loss lesse grievious Which only doth perplex their mind Because their bounties thence confin'd May they soon cross the Seas to take Their own and vengeance may they make Their enemies as highly sad And miserable as th' are bad And may they come to thee smal spot For Recreation henceforth not For refuge May thy rule persever In this Land long in this line ever The Isle of MAN FRom England Scotland Wales and Ireland By equal Leagues divided there doth stand An Isle in circuit not so great as fame To elder times known by Eubonia's name The Soil is not luxuriant nor ingrate Being neither Natures fondness nor her hate The Sugar canes the Vine and Fig-tree there No Natives are nor strangers but what e're To sport mans nicer appetite is scant Comes there the price of what he cannot want Few ages since he that chief Rule did hold Was thence a King the same power but less bold In Title whilst twelve Monarchs raign'd Hath in the Noble Stanlies blood remain'd But under none hath it enjoy'd a bliss More eminent then it does under this Whose prudent care preserves it from the stain Of foul Rebellion ' gainst its Soveraign And as in Swounings life when it is gone From all parts else stayes in the heart alone So in this place which if to our Kings sway You 'l Members give for its fit site best may Express the heart still breathing you may see All that 's alive of his great Monarchy And though this Isle appear but as a Star Of the least magnitude ' mongst those that are In Charles his constellation yet doth shee Keep motion stil in due conformity To th' Primum Mobile nor is at all Seduc'd or forc'd by the Eccentrical Circumvolutions of the rest but now Doth thence more regular and constant grow Just so a vigorous heat that closely is Besieg'd by an Antiparistasis Of hostile cold conformes not to the same But still growes more it self and turnes to flame Nor hath the King alone his old and due Observance here but ev'n the Kings King too Religious duties which in other Lands Are cast by th' wanton strife of tongues and hands In new prodigious moulds do in this place Retain their Prim'tive comeliness and Grace Temples are Houses here and they alone Of publike Worship and Devotion And such at the Altar wait as are endu'd With Science and are call'd to 't not intrude So that sound Doctrine clad in a rich sense Flowes from their Pulpits which with Reverence The people heard and to this giving due Respect a thousand blessings more ensue The Husbandman buryes his seed ' th'out fear O'th'Sequestrators sickle nor does e're Doubt who shall share the Flock or milk the Kine He fosters or shall eat the fruit of 's Vine For though that Plant springs not in this cold clay Yet where so fat a Peace dwels we may say With Reverence to the Sacred Page that now Grapes upon thornes and figs on thistles grow Wives moan not their fled Husbands who t' eschew Their enemies forsake their best friends too Their pregnant wombs by Times due Midwifry Not by affrights or griefs disburdned be And their maturer Issues there escape The barbarous Souldiers sword and Lustfull rape But that which doth most happiness afford Is the lov'd presence of their noble Lord And Lady not more eminent in blood Then Vertue and their Pledges fair and good That spot alas is now their whole estate Which was but an Appendix to 't of late Swelling great Derby's Title more then 's Rent But 't was by Providence that he was sent From 's Richer Territories there to be The refuge of distressed Loyalty Where now the good he doth with what remains Comforts th' unequal losses he sustains His sufferings he surveyes as they express His Loyalty not his unhappiness And may not they nor th'time be long till 's eyes See his good deeds his wrongs and enemies Fully requited and in the intrim May this small part of his Kings sway by him Be still preserv'd as it is now in fit Obedience till the rest conform to it AN EPITAPH ON Major OWEN And Captain EDWARD WYNNE REader prepare thy eyes I stand Not to beg tears but to command Which having read if thou deny Thou art a verier stone then I. Brothers by birth and Twins since death At noon benighted lodg beneath A Nobler pair no womb of clay Shall bring forth at the last great day Their Linage of good note before Commended them and they it more Nature was of her gifts profuse For which they thank'd her i'th'right use Souls sweetly temper'd bodies meant To shew mens shape most excellent Valor and Innoncence conjoyn'd Height and humility of mind Faith to the Cause they chose and friends Serv'd by them ' hout self-serving ends Indeer'd them to their Countries chief Affection first then to its geief Snatch'd hence in their
all you that be Opprest by prosp'rous villany And let your Countenance this time as clear As is your conscience appear That wretched eye profanes these Sacred Raies That is with tears possest For any earthly interest And is not worthy to see better dayes 2 That power by which the Air did first begin Now borrowes it to breath therein He that like Rayment put on Light doth dress Himself in humane nakedness Thus he 's our Representative and thus Th' Almighty's irony Apply'd to him 's a verity Behold God is become as one of us 3. Here then ye loyal souls come here and take A cure for all that makes you ake This Day presents such suff'rings as wil drowne The sad remembrance of your own Still let the Serpents of this age bite on Let them new poison brew 'T is lost all that they spit at you For loe this Day holds forth the Brasen one 4. Are you in banishment To salve your wo Think that the King of Kings was so Or in restraint Let all complain●s be dumb God was once dungeon'd in a womb What though y 'ave lost your store by th' licenc'd theft O' th' bowelless Committee And Sequestrators of less pity The Lord of All was of himself bereft 5. All this and death he for your sake endures In whom was found no guilt but yours And for his Cause wil not you suffer too As chearfully as he for you Th'Oppressor's glory and your misery Death quickly terminates And then shall you exchange Estates And have them setled to eternity A CAROL PReethy Round-head now forbear Come not near Christmas here doth domineer Here are sports and songs and Musick Which perhaps Which perhaps Sir may make you sick 2 'T wil perplex your holy eye To espy When we dance though modestly And you 'l hence be more offended With the light With the light all sport is ended 3 And to grieve your godly ear Songs I fear Of our Saviours birth you 'l hear Here his mother you 'l find Sainted And your selves And your selves call'd Divels painted 4. If you love your nose O fie Come not nigh All the house doth smel of Pye Nor would you the sent eschew Sir Half so fain Half so fain as we would you Sir 5. For the taste indeed here 's great Store of meat But your Saintship may not eat For the meat which we provide all Offered is Offered is unto this Idol 6. Venter then no farther on Get thee gone But least thou shouldst go alone Take for company I pre-thee From this place From this place all sorrow with thee Thus Latin'd 1. FOres jam Rotunde has Fugias Regnat hic Nativitas Lusus hic cantilenae Tibi quae Tibi quae futurae poenae 2. Dolor erit oculis Videris Cum nos in tripudiis Et plus eris hinc confusus Desinit Desinit Cum luce lusus 3. Novè piis parcamus Auribus Christum natum Canimus Mater hîc est Diva dicta Ipsi vos Ipsi vos Daemonia picta 4. Aedes naso cave sis Epulis Fragrant Natalitiis Nidor tibi nec infestus Plus quam tu Plus quam tu nobis molestus 5. Dapes ecce hîc lautas Sed ne has Tangat vestra Sanctitas Quicquid est in mensâ situm Esse duc Esse duc Idolothytum 6 Ocyus ergo hinc jam Te Proripe Sed ne careas comite Sume tibi in sodalem Omne hac Omne hac à domo malum On Mrs F. P. Discovered at her Devotion in Holywell INto the Spring whose copious flowings be A Monument of Martyr'd Chastity The fair Francisca that she might commend The Well to more Devotion did descend With feature so Divine that you would ghess She rather were the Saint then Votaress With swifter course the streams to court her glide And murm'ring seem the envious stones to chide Which stay their haste And now they had possest What ever was beneath her Ivory brests But these did yet appear above the same Like the white Rocks which gave this Isle a name At length she kneel'd then they reacht her lip Which they with smiling smoothness woo'd to sip The waters thirsting to be drank by her More then for them the long choak'd Hart did e're But swelling to 't she rose as if she thus Meant to revenge the fate of Tantalus An hour is well nigh spent whilst with such heat Of pure Devotion she doth there repeat Her powerful Orisons that whilst she pray'th The benumb'd Fountain proves a sweating Bath And now her Rites perform'd she takes her leave The waters striving to detain her cleave Fast to her Veil but when alas they found 'T was vain they sadly dropt in tears to th'ground Now if the stories I have read before Were Truth or Fable I 'l enquire no more For seeing Francisca in it I can tell That I discovered there a Miracle And thus much of it henceforth I 'l confess 'T is Sacred though but from this Votaress A Hymne to St Winifrid sung by Her Priest whilst Ms E. M. was at Her Devotion in Holywell BLest Saint to whose renown this Well Flowes a perpetual Miracle Be present now and give success To th'wishes of this Votaress Chorus Who comes not her own spots to cure But bathes to make thy Spring more pure 'T is neither her necessity Nor sin that brings her on her knee For pure and like thy self She 's come In all but in thy Martyrdome Chor. She comes not her own spots to cure But bathes to make thy Spring more pure It is to honour thee and bring More Votaries unto thy Spring That such as did blaspheme before By Her example may adore Chor. But She that hath no spots to cure Doth bathe to make thy Spring more pure Then from the cold protect Her sense Let Her not go thy Martyr hence But strait conform with some warm beam To Hers the temper of the stream Chor. So She that hath no spots to cure Shall bathe and make thy Spring more pure On the Death of the Right Honourable the Lord BYRON who died in France CAll'd from the wrath to come to 's Native Seat Byrons unspotted soul has made retreat See how Heaven welcomes Him ye Blessed Powers We to Your Joyes and His would now add ours Did not our too-just Jealousies and Fears Of plagues ensuing call for sighs and tears Must not approaching Thunder needs dismay When the protecting Laurel's snatcht away The Wheat into the Barn being ta'ne we know What fate the Tares are doom'd to undergo Excuse our sorrow then when such men steer Into the Harbor desperate stormes are neer And who can hope th'Incursion to escape Of Vengeance when a Moses quits the gap That Rome when Pagan in the Head like us And Christian in some limbs was prosperous The Fathers of those ages attribute To th' Prayers of them whom it did persecute And sure his Intercession for his foes Hath thus long kept us from