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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A18411 EuthymiƦ raptus; or The teares of peace with interlocutions. By Geo. Chapman. Chapman, George, 1559?-1634. 1609 (1609) STC 4976; ESTC S104931 19,902 46

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neere her heart it left her tongue And silent the gaue time to note whence sprung Mens want of Peace which was from want of loue And I observ'd now what that peace did proue That men made shift with did so much please For now the Sunne declining to the Seas Made long misshapen shadowes and true Peace Here wa●king in his Beames cast such encrease Of shaddowe from her that I saw it glide Through Citties Courts and Countryes and descride How in her shadowe only men there liv'd While shee walkt here i th Sunne and all that thriv'd Hid in that shade their thrift nought but her shade Was Bullwarke gainst all warre that might inuade Their Countries or their Consciences since Loue That should giue Peace her substance now they droue Into the Deserts where hee sufferd Fate And whose sad Funerals Beasts must celebrate With whom I freely wisht I had beene nurst Because they follow Nature at their wurst And at their best did teach her As wee went I felt a scruple which I durst not vent No not to Peace her selfe whom it concernd For feare to wrong her So well I haue learnd To shun iniustice euen to doues or flies But to the Diuell or the Destinies Where I am iust and knowe I honour Truth I le speake my thoughts in scorne of what ensu'th Yet not resolv'd in th' other there did shine A Beame of Homers fre'er soule in mine That made me see I might propose my doubt Which was If this were true Peace I found out That felt such passion I prov'd her sad part And prayd her call her voice out of her hart There kept a wrongfull prisoner to her woe To answere why shee was afflicted so Or how in her such contraries could fall That taught all ioy and was the life of all Shee aunswered Homer tould me that there are Passions in which corruption hath no share There is a ioy of soule and why not then A griefe of soule that is no skathe to men For both are Passions though not such as raigne In blood and humor that engender paine Free sufferance for the truth makes sorrow sing And mourning farre more sweet then banqueting Good that deserueth ioy receiuing ill Doth merit iustly as much sorrow still And is it a corruption to do right Griefe that dischargeth Conscience is delight One sets the other off To stand at gaze In one position is a stupide maze Fit for a Statue This resolv'd me well That Griefe in Peace and Peace in Griefe might dwell And now fell all things from their naturall Birth Passion in Heauen Stupiditie in Earth Inuerted all the Muses Vertues Graces Now suffer● rude and miserable chaces From mens societies to that desert heath And after them Religion chac't by death Came weeping bleeding to the Funerall Sought her deare Mother Peace and downe did fall Before her fainting on her horned knees Turnd horne with praying for the miseries She left the world in desperate in their sinne Marble her knees pearc't but heauen could not winne To stay the weightie ruine of his Glorie In her sad Exile all the memorie Of heauen and heauenly things rac't of all hands Heauen moues so farre off that men say it stands And Earth is turnd the true and mouing Heauen And so t is left and so is all Truth driuen From her false bosome all is left alone Till all bee orderd with confusion Thus the poore broode of Peace driuen distrest Lay brooded all beneath their mothers breast Who fell vpon them weeping as they fell All were so pinde that she containde them well And in this Chaos the digestion And beautie of the world lay thrust and throwne In this deiection Peace pourd out her Teares Worded with some pause in my wounded Eares INVOCATIO O ye three-times-thrice sacred Quiristers Of Gods great Temple the small Vniuerse Of ruinous man thus prostrate as ye lye Brooded and Loded with Calamitie Contempt and shame in your true mother Peace As you make sad my soule with your misease So make her able fitly to disperse Your sadnesse and her owne in sadder verse Now olde and freely banisht with your selues From mens societies as from rockes and shelues Helpe me to sing and die on our Thames shore And let her lend me her waues to deplore In yours and your most holy Sisters falls Heauens fall and humane Loues last funeralls And thou great Prince of men let thy sweete graces Shine on these teares and drie at length the faces Of Peace and all her heauen-allyed brood From whose Doues eyes is shed the precious blood Of Heauens deare Lamb that freshly bleeds in them Make these no toyes then gird the Diadem Of thrice great Britaine with their Palm and Bayes And with thy Eagles feathers daigne to raise The heauie body of my humble Muse That thy great Homers spirit in her may vse Her topless flight and beare thy Fame aboue The reach of Mortalls and their earthy loue To that high honour his Achilles wonne And make thy glory farre out-shine the Sunne While this small time gaue Peace in her kinde Throes Vent for the violence of her sodaine woes She turnd on her right side and leaning on Her tragique daughters bosome lookt vpon My heauy lookes drownd in imploring teares For her and that so wrongd deare Race of hers At which euen Peace exprest a kinde of Spleene And as a carefull Mother I haue seene Chide her lov'd Childe snatcht with som feare from danger So Peace chid me and first shed teares of anger The Teares of Peace Peace THou wretched man whome I discouer borne To want and sorrowe and the Vulgars scorne Why haunt'st thou freely these vnhaunted places Emptie of pleasures empty of all Graces Fashions and Riches by the best pursude With broken Sleepe Toyle Loue Zeale Seruitude With feare and trembling with whole liues and Soules While thou break'st sleepes digst vnder Earth like moules To liue to seeke me out whome all men fly And think'st to finde light in obscuritie Eternitie in this deepe vale of death Look'st euer vpwards and liu'st still beneath Fill'st all thy actions with strife what to thinke Thy Braine with Ayre and skatterst it in inke Of which thou mak'st weeds for thy soule to weare As out of fashion as the bodies are Interlo I grant their strangenesse and their too ill grace And too much wretchednesse to beare the face Or any likenesse of my soule in them Whose Instruments I rue with many a Streame Of secret Teares for their extream defects In vttering her true forms but their respects Need not be less'ned for their being strange Or not so vulgar as the rest that range With headlong Raptures through the multitude Of whom they get grace for their being rude Nought is so shund by Virtue throwne from Truth As that which drawes the vulgar Dames and Youth Pea. Truth must confesse it for where l●ues there one That Truth or Vertue for themselues alone Or seekes or not contemns
Pleasures into Palseys turne And Sunne-like Pomp in his own clowds shal mourne Will be acceptiue Meane space I will pray That hee may turne some toward thought this way While the round whirlewindes of the earths delights Dust betwixt him and me and blinde the sights Of all men rauisht with them whose encrease You well may tell him fashions not true Peace The Peace that they informe learns but to squat While the slye legall foe that leuels at Warre through those false lights soudainly runs by Betwixt you and your strength and while you lye Couching your eares and flatting euerie lymme So close to earth that you would seeme to him The Earth it selfe yet hee knowes who you are And in that vantage poures on ready warre Conclusio THus by the way to humane Loues interring These marginall and secret teares referring To my disposure hauing all this howre Of our vnwordly conference giuen powre To her late-fainting issue to arise She raisde her selfe and them The Progenies Of that so ciuile Desert rising all Who fell with her and to the Funerall She bearing still the Coffine all went on And now giues Time her states description Before her flew Affliction girt in storms Gasht all with gushing wounds and all the formes Of bane and miserie frowning in her face Whom Tyrannie and Iniustice had in Chace Grimme Persecution Pouertie and Shame Detraction Enuie foule Mishap and lame Scruple of Conscience Feare Deceipt Despaire Slaunder and Clamor that rent all the Ayre Hate Warre and Massacre vncrowned Toyle And Sickenes t'all the ●est the Base and Foile Crept after and his deadly weight trode downe Wealth Beautie and the glorie of a Crowne These vsherd her farre of as figures giuen To showe these Crosses borne make peace with heauen But now made free from them next her before Peacefull and young Herculean silence bore His craggie Club which vp aloft hee hild With which and his forefingers charme hee stild All sounds in ayre and left so free mine eares That I might heare the musique of the Spheres And all the Angels singing out of heauen Whose tunes were solemne as to Passion giuen For now that Iustice was the Happinesse there For all the wrongs to Right inflicted here Such was the Passion that Peace now put on And on all went when soudainely was gone All light of heauen before vs from a wood Whose sight fore-seene now lost amaz'd wee stood The Sunne still gracing vs when now the Ayre Inflam'd with Meteors we discouerd fayre The skipping Gote the Horses flaming Mane Bearded and trained Comets Starres in wane The burning sword the Firebrand flying Snake The Lance the Torch the Licking fire the Drake And all else Metors that did ill abode The thunder chid the lightning leapt abrode And yet when Peace came in all heauen was cleare And then did all the horrid wood appeare Where mortall dangers more then leaues did growe In which wee could not one free steppe bestowe For treading on some murtherd Passenger Who thither was by witchcraft forc't to erre Whose face the bird hid that loues Humans best That hath the bugle eyes and Rosie Breast And is the yellow Autumns Nightingall Peace made vs enter here secure of all Where in a Caue that through a Rocke did eate The monster Murther held his impious Seat A heape of panting Harts supported him On which he sate gnawing a reeking lymme Of some man newly murtherd As he eate His graue-digg'd Browes like stormy Eaues did sweat Which like incensed Fennes with mists did smoke His hyde was rugged as an aged Oke With heathie Leprosies that still hee sed With hote raw lyms of men late murthered His Face was like a Meteo● flashing blood His head all bristl'd like a thornie wood His necke cast wrinkles like a Sea enrag'd And in his vast Armes was the world engag'd Bathing his hands in euerie cruell deed Whose Palmes were hell-deepe lakes of boyling lead His thighes were mines of poyson torment griefe In which digg'd Fraude and Trecherie for reliefe Religions Botcher Policie and Pride Oppression Slauerie Flatterie glorified Atheisme and Tyranny and gaine vniust Franticke Ambition Enuie shagge-heard Lust Both sorts of Ignorance and Knowledge swell'd And ouer these the ould wolfe Auarice held A goulden Scourge that dropt with blood and vapor With which he whipt them to their endlesse labor From vnder heapes cast from his fruitfull thyes As ground to all their damn'd Impieties The mourneful Goddesse drew dead Humane Loue Nor could they let her entrie though they stroue And furnac't on her all their venemous breath For though all outrage breakes the Peace of death She Coffind him and forth to Funerall All helpt to beare him But to sound it all My Trumpet fayles and all my forces shrinke Who can enact to life what kils to thinke Nor can the Soules beames beat through blood flesh Formes of such woe and height as now afresh Flow'd from these Obiects to see Poesie Prepar'd to doe the speciall obsequie And sing the Funerall Oration How it did showe to see her tread vpon The breast of Death and on a Furie leane How to her Fist as rites of seruice then A Cast of Rauens flew On her shoulders how The Foules that to the Muses Queene we vow The Owle and Heronshawe ●a●e how for her hayre A haplesse Comet hurld about the Ayre Her curled Beames whence sparkes like falling starres Vanisht about her and with windes aduerse Were still blowne back To which the Phoenix flew And burning on her head would not renew How her diuine Oration did moue For th' vnredeemed losse of humane Loue Obiect mans future state to reasons eye The soules infusion Immortalitie And proue her formes firme that are here imprest How her admirde straines wrought on euery Beast And made the woods cast their Immanitie Vp to the Ayre that did to Citties flye In Fewell for them and in Clowds of smoke Euer hang ouer them cannot be spoke Nor how to Humane loue to Earth now giuen A lightening stoop't and rauisht him to heauen And with him Peace with all her heauenly seede Whose outward Rapture made me inward bleed Nor can I therefore my Intention keepe Since Teares want words words want teares to weepe Corollarium ad Principem THus shooke I this abortiue from my Braine Which with it laie in this vnworthy paine Yet since your HOMER had his worthy hand In vent'ring this delaie of your Command To end his Iliades deigne Great Prince of men To holde before it your great Shielde and then It may doe seruice worthy this delaie To your more worthy Pleasure and I maie Regather the sperst fragments of my spirits And march with HOMER through his deathless merits To your vndying graces Nor did he Vanish with this slight vision but brought me Home to my Cabine and did all the waie Assure me of your Graces constant staie To his soules Being wholly naturalliz'd And made your Highnesse subiect which he priz'd Past all his honours helde in other Lands And that because a Princes maine state stands In his owne knowledge and his powre within These works that had chiefe virtue to beginne Those informations you would holde most deare Since false Ioyes haue their seasons to appeare Iust as they are but these delights were euer Perfect and needefull and would irke you neuer I praying for this happie worke of heauen In your sweete disposition the calme Euen Tooke me to rest and he with wings of Fire To soft Ayres supreame Region did aspire By the euer most humbly and truly dedicated to your most Princely graces GEO. CHAPMAN * Knowledge of our selues