curious Phidias Master Most smooth most white a piece of Alabaster Two foaming Billowes flow'd vpon her Brest VVhich did their tops with Corrall red encrest There all about as Brookes them sport at leasure VVith Circling Branches veines did swell in Azure VVithin those Crookes are only found those Isles VVhich Fortunate the dreaming old World Stiles The rest the Streames did hide but as a Lillie Suncke in a Christalls faire transparent Bellie I who yet humane weaknesse did not know For yet I had not felt that Archers Bow Ne could I thinke that from the coldest Water The winged Youngling burning Flames could scatter On euery part my vagabounding Sight Did cast and drowne mine Eyes in sweet Delight What wondrous Thing is this that Beautie 's named Said I I finde I heretofore haue dreamed And neuer knowne in all my flying Dayes Good vnto this that only merites Praise My Pleasures haue beene Paines my Comforts Crosses My Treasure Pouertie my Gaines but Losses O precious Sight which none doth els descrie Except the burning Sunne and quiuering I. And yet O deare bought Sight O would for euer I might enioy you or had ioy'd you neuer O happie Floud if so yee might abide Yet euer glorie of this Moments Pride Adjure your Rillets all now to beholde Her And in their Christall Armes to come and fold Her And sith yee may not ay your Blisse embrace Draw thousand Pourtraits of Her on your Face Pourtraits which in my Heart be more apparent If like to yours my Brest but were transparent O that I were while she doth in you play A Daulphine to transport Her to the Sea To none of all those Gods I would Her rander From Thule to Inde though I should with Her wander Oh! what is this the more I fixe mine Eye Mine Eye the more new Wonders doth espie The more I spie the more in vncouth fashion My Soule is rauish'd in a pleasant Passion But looke not Eyes as more I would haue said A Sound of whirling Wheeles me all dismayde And with the Sound foorth from the timorous Bushes With storme-like Course a sumptuous Chariot rushes A Chariot all of Gold the Wheeles were Gold The Nailes and Axetree Gold on which it roll'd The vpmost Part a Scarlet Vaile did couer More rich than Danaes Lap spred with her Louer In midst of it in a triumphing Chaire A Ladie sate miraculously faire Whose pensiue Countenance and Lookes of Honor Doe more allure the Mind that thinketh on Her Than the most wanton Face and amorous Eyes That Amathus or flowrie Paphos sees A Crue of Virgins made a Ring about Her The Diamond shee they seeme the Gold without Her Such Thetis is when to the Billowes rore With Mcrmaids nyce shee danceth on the Shore So in a sable Night the Sunnes bright Sister Among the lesser twinckling Lights doth glister Faire Yoakes of Ermelines whose Colour passe The whitest Sâ—…owes on aged Grampius Face More swift than Venus Bâ—…rds this Chariot guided To the astonish'd Bancke where as it bided But long it did not bide when poore those Streames Aye me it made transporting those rich Gemmes And by that Burthen lighter swiftly driued Till as me thought it at a Towre arriued Vpon a Rocke of Christall shining cleare Of Diamonds this Castle did appeare Whose rising Spires of Gold so high them reared That Atlas like it seem'd the Heauen they beared Amidst which Hights on Arches did arise Arches which guilt Flames brandish to the Skies Of sparking Topaces Prowde Gorgeous Ample Like to a litle Heauen a sacred Temple VVhose Walls no Windowes haue nay all the Wall Is but one Window Night there doth not fall More when the Sunne to Westerne World declineth Than in our Zenith when at Noone He shineth Two flaming Hills the Passage strait defend Which to this radiant Building doth ascend Vpon whose Arching tops on a Pilastre A Port stands open rais'd in Loues Disastre For none that narrow Bridge and Gate can passe VVho haue their Faces seene in Venus Glasse If those within but to come foorth doe venter That stately Place againe they neuer enter The Precinct strengthened with a Ditch appeares In which doth swell a Lake of Inkie Teares Of madding Louers who abide there moning And thicken euen the Aire with piteous Groning This Hold to braue the Skies the Destines fram'd The World the Fort of Chastitie it nam'd The Queene of the third Heauen once to appall it The God of Thrace here brought who could not thrall it For which he vow'd ne're Armes more to put on And on Riphean Hills was heard to grone Here Psyches Louer hurles his Darts at randon Which all for nought him serue as doth his Brandon VVhat bitter Anguish did inuade my Minde VVhen in that Place my Hope I saw confinde VVhere with high-towring Thoughts Ionely reacht Her VVhich did burne vp their Wings when they approacht Her Mee thought I set me by a Cypresse Shade And Night and Day the Hyacinthe there reade And that bewaâ—…ling Nightingalles did borrow Plaints of my Plaint and Sorrowes of my Sorrow My Food was Wâ—…rmewood mine owne Teares my Drinke My Rest on Death and sad Mishaps to thinke And for such Thoughts to haue my Heart enlarged And ease mine Eyes â—…ith brinie Tribute charged Ouer a Brooke me thought my pining Face I laid which then as grieu'd at my Disgrace A Face Me shew'd againe so ouer-clouded That at the Sight mine Eyes afray'd them shrowded This is the guerdon Loue this is the Gaine In end which to thy Seruants doth remaine I would haue said when Feare made Sleepe to leaue me And of those fatall Shadowes did bereaue me But ah alas in stead to dreame of Loue And Woes mee made them in effect to proue For what into my troubled Braine was painted I waking found that Time and Place presented SON AH burning Thoughts now let me take some Rest And your tumultuous Broyles a while appease Is 't not enough Starres Fortune Loue molest Me all at once but yee must to displease Let Hope though false yet lodge within my Brest My high Attempt though dangerous yet praise What though I trace not right Heauens steppie Wayes It doth suffice my Fall shall make me blest I doe not doate on Dayes nor feare not Death So that my Life be braue what though not long Let me Renown'd liue from the vulgare Throng And when yee list Heauens take this borrowed Breath Men but like Visions are Time all doth claime He liues who dies to winne a lasting Name MADRIGALL ADEDALE of my Death Now I resemble that subtile Worme on Earth VVhich prone to its owne euill can take no rest For with strange Thoughts possest I feede on fading Leaues Of Hope which me deceaues And thousand Webs doth warpe within my Brest And thus in end vnto my selfe I weaue A fast-shut Prison no but euen a Graue SEXTAIN THe Heauen doth not containe so many Starres So many Leaues not prostrate lie in Woods VVhen Autumne's old
heauie light The smallest liuing things by Nature wrought Bee freed of Woe if they haue small Delight Ah only I abandon'd to Despaire Nail'd to my Torments in pale Horrours Shade Like wandring Clouds see all my Comforts fled And Euill on Euill with Hours my Life impaire The Heauen and Fortune which were wont to turne Fixt in one Mansion staye to cause mee mourne SON DEare Eye which daign'st on this sad Monument The sable Scroule of my Mis-haps to view Though with the mourning Muses Teares besprent And darkly drawne which is not fain'd but true If thou not dazell'd with a Heauenly Hue And comely Feature didst not yet lament But happie liu'st vnto thy selfe content O let not Loue thee to his Lawes subdue Looke on the wofull Shipwracke of my Youth And let my Ruines for a Phare thee serue To shunne this Rocke Capharean of Vntrueth And serue no God who doth his Church-men sterue His Kingdome is but Plaints his Guerdon Teares What hee giues more are Iealousies and Feares SON IF crost with all Mil haps bee my poore Life If one short Day I neuer spent in Mirth If my Spright with it selfe holds lasting Strife If Sorrowes Death is but new Sorrowes Birth If this vaine World bee but a sable Stage Where slaue-borne Man playes to the scoffing Starres If Youth bee toss'd with Loue with Weaknesse Age If Knowledge serueto holde our Thoughts in Warres If Time can close the hundreth Mouths of Fame And make what long since past like that to bee If Vertue only bee an idle Name If I when I was bome was borne to die Why seeke I to prolong these loathsome Dayes The fairest Rose in shortest time decayes SON LEt Fortune triumph now and Iö sing Sith I must fall beneath this Load of Care Let Her what most I prize of eu'rie Thing Now wicked Trophees in her Temple reare Shee who high Palmie Empires doth not spare And tramples in the Dust the prowdest King Let Her vaunt how my Blisse Shee did impaire To what low Ebbe Shee now my Flow doth bring Let Her count how a new Ixion Mee Shee in her Wheele did turne how high nor low I neuer stood but more to tortur'd bee Weepe Soule weepe plaintfull Soule thy Sorrowes know Weepe of thy Teares till a blacke Riuer swell Which may Câ—…cytus be to this thy Hell SON O Cruell Beautie Meekenesse inhumaine That Night and day contend with my Desire And seeke my Hope to kill not quench my Fire By Death not Baulme to ease my pleasant Paine Though yee my Thoughts tread downe which would aspire And bound my Blisse doe not alas disdaine That I your matchlesse Worth and Grace admire And for their Cause these Torments sharpe sustaine Let great Empedocles vaunt of his Death Found in the midst of those Sicylian Flames And Phaëton that Heauen him râ—…ft of Breâ—…th And Daedals Sonne He nam'd the Samian Streames Their Haps I enuie not my Praise shall bee The fairest Shee that liu'd gaue Death to mee SON THe Hyperborean Hills Ceraunus Snow Or 〈◊〉 cruell fiâ—…st thee bred The Caspian Tigers with their Milke thee fed And Faunes did humane Bloud on thee bestow Fierce Orithyas Loâ—…er in thy Bed Thee lull'd asleepe where he enrag'd doth blow Thou didst not drinke the Flouds which here doe flow But Tâ—…ares or those by ycie Tanais Hed. Sith thou disdaines my Loue neglects my Griefe Laughs at my Grones and still affects my Death Of thee nor Heauen I 'll seeke no more Reliefe Nor longer entertaine this loathsome Breath But yeeld vnto my Starre that thou mayst proue What Losse thou hadst in losing such a Loue SONG PHoebus arise And paint the sable Skies VVith azure white and Red Rowse Memmons Mother from her Tythons Bed That Shee thy Cariere may with Roses spred The Nightingalles thy Comming each where sing Make an eternall Spring Giue Lâ—…fe to this darke World which lieth dead Spreade foorth thy golden Haire In larger Lockes than thou wast wont before And Emperour-like decore VVith Diademe of Pearle thy Temples faire Chase hence the vglie Night VVhich serues but to make deare thy glorious Light This is that happie Morne That Day long wished Day Of all my Life so darke If cruell Starres haue not my Ruine sworne And Fates not Hope betray VVhich only white deserues A Diamond for euer should it marke This is the Morne should bring vnto this Groue My Loue to heare and recompense my loue Faire King who all preserues But show thy blushing Beames And thou two sweeter Eyes Shalt sâ—…e than those which by Peneus Streames Did once thy Heart surprise Nay Sunnes which shine as cleare As thou when two thou did to Rome appeare Now Flora decke thy selfe in fairest Guise If that yee Winds would heare A Voyce surpassing farre Amphions Lyre Your stormie chiding stay Let Zephyre only breath And with her Tresses play Kissing sometimes these purple Ports of Death The Windes all silent are And Phoebus in his Chaire Ensâ—…ffroning Sea and Aire Makes vanâ—…sh euery Starre Night like a Drunkard râ—…eles Beyond the Hills to shâ—…nne his flaming Wheeles The Fields with Flowrs are deckt in euery Hue The Clouds bespangle with bright Gold their Blew Here is the pleasant Place And eu'ry thing saue Her who all should grace SON WHo hath not seene into her saffron Bed The Mornings Goddesse mildly Her repose Or Her of whose pure Bloud first sprang the Rose Lull'd in a Slumber by a Miâ—…tle Shade Who hath not seene that sleeping White and Red Makes Phoebe looke so pale which Shee did close In that Iönian Hill to ease her Woes Which only liues by Nectare Kisses fed Come but and see my Ladie sweetly sleepe The sighing Rubies of those heauenly Lips The Cupids which Brests golden Apples keepe Those Eyes which shine in midst of their Ecclipse And Hee them all shall see perhaps and proue Shee waking but perswades now forceth Loue. SON OF Cithereas Birds that milke-white paire On yonder leauie Mirtle Tree which grone And waken with their kisses in the Aire Enamour'd Zephyres murmuring one by one If thou but Sense hadst like Pigmalions Stone Or hadst not seene Medusas snakie haire Loues Lessons thou mightst learne and learne sweete Faire To Summers Heat ere that thy Spring bee growne And if those kissing Louers seeme but Cold Looke how that Elme this Iuie doth embrace And bindes and claspes with many a wanton Fold And courting Sleepe o'reshadowes all the Place Nay seemes to say deare Tree we shall not parte In Signe whereof loe in each Leafe a Heart SON THe Sunne is faire when hee with crimson Crowne And flaming Rubies leaues his Easterne Bed Faire is Thaumantias in her christall Gowne When Clouds engemm'd hang azure greene and Red. To Westerne Worlds when wearied Day goes downe And from Heauens Windowes each Starre showes her Hed Earths silent Daughter Night is faire though browne Faire is the Moone though in Loues Liuerie cled Faire Chloris is when Shee doth paint Aprile Faire are
Death Sleepes Brother bee And Soules relieu'd of Sense haue so sweete Dreames That I would wish mee thus to dreame and die SON I Curse the Night yet doth from Day mee hide The Pandionian Birds I tyre with Mones The Ecchoes euen are weari'd with my Grones Since Absence did mee from my Blisse diuide Each Dreame each Toy my Reason doth affright And when Remembrance reades the curious Scroule Of pass d Contentments caused by her Sight Then bitter Anguish doth inuade my Soule While thus I liue ecclipsed of her Light O mee what better am I than the Mole Or those whose Zenith is the only Pole Whose Hemispheare is hid with so long Night Saue that in Earth he rests they hope for Sunne I pine and finde mine endlesse Night begunne SON OF Death some tell some of the cruell Paine Which that bad Crafts-man in his Worke did trie When a new Monster Flames once did constraine A humane Corps to yeeld a brutish Crie Some tell of those in burning Beds who lie For that they durst in the Phlegraean Plaine The mightie Rulers of the Skie defie And siege those christall Toâ—…res which all containe An other countes of Phlegethons hote Floods The Soules which drinke Ixions endlesse Smart And his to whom a Vulture eates the Heart One telles of Specters in enchanted Woods Of all those Paines he who the woâ—…st would proue Let him bee absent and but pine in Loue. MAD. TRitons which bounding diue Through Neptunes liquide Plaine When as yee shall arriue With tilting Tides where siluer Ora playes And to your King his watrie Tribute payes Tell how I dying liue And burne in midst of all the coldest Maine SON PLace mee where angry Titan burnes the More And thirstie Africke firâ—…e Monsters brings Or where the new-borne Phoenix spreades her Wings And Troupes of wondring Birds her Flight adore Place mee by Gange or Indes empampred Shore Where smyling Heauens on Earth cause double Springs Place mee where Neptunes Quire of Syrens sings Or where made hoarse through Cold hee leaues to roare Mee place where Fortune doth her Darlings crowne A Wonder or a Sparke in Enuies Eye Or late outragious Fates vpon mee frowne And Pittie wailing see disastred Mee Affections Print my Minde so deepe doth proue I may forget my Selfe but not my Loue. POEMS BY W. D. THE SECOND PART SONNET OF mortall Glorie ô soone darkned Raye O posting Ioyes of Man more swift than Winde O fond Desires which wing'd with Fancies straye O traitrous Hopes which doe our Iudgements blinde Loe in a Flash that Light is gone away Which dazell did each Eye Delight each Minde And with that Sunne from whence it came combinde Now makes more radiant Heauens eternall Day Let Beautie now be blubbred Cheekes with Teares Let widow'd Musicke only roare and plaine Poore Vertue get thee Wings and mount the Spheares And let thine only Name on Earth remaine Death hath thy Temple raz'd Loues Empire foylde The World of Honour Worth and Sweetnesse spoylde SON THose Eyes those sparkling Saphires of Delight Which thousand thousand Hearts did set on fire Which made that Eye of Heauen that brings the Light Oft jealous staye amaz'd them to admire That liuing Snow those crimson Roses bright Those Pearles those Rubies which did breede Desire Those Lockes of Gold that Purple faire of Tyre Are wrapt aye mee vp in eternall Night What hast thou more to vaunt of wretched World Sith shee who cursed thee made blest is gone Thine euer burning Lamps Rounds euer whorld Can vnto thee not modell such a one For if they would such Beautie bring on Earth They should be forc'd againe to make Her breath SON O Fate conspir'd to powre your Worst on mee O rigorous Rigour which doth all confound With cruell Hands yee haue cut downe the Tree And Fruit and Flowre dispersed on the Ground A litle Space of Earth my Loue doth bound That Beautie which did raise it to the Skie Turn'd in nâ—…glected Dust now low doth lie Deafe to my Plaints and senslesse of my Wound Ah! did I liue for this ah did I loue For this and was it shâ—…e did so excell That â—…re shee well Lifâ—…s sweet-sowre Ioyes did proue Shee should too deare a Guest with Horrour dwell Weake Influence of Hâ—…auen what faire yee frame Falles in the Prime and passeth like a Dreame SON O Woefull Life Life no but liuing Death Fraile Boat of Christall in a rockie Sea A Sport expos'd to Fortunes stormie Breath Which kept with Paine with Terrour doth decay The false Delights true Woes thou dost bequeath Mine all-appalled Minde doe so affraye That I those enuie who are laid in Earth And pittie them that runne thy dreadfull Waye When did mine Eyes behold one chearefull Morne When had my tossed Soule one Night of rest When did not hatefull Starres my Projects scorne O! now I finde for Mortalls what is best Euen sith our voyage shamefull is and short Soone to strike Saile and perish in the Port. SON MIne Eyes dissolue your Globes in brinie Streames And with a Cloud of Sorrow dimme your Sight The Sunnâ—…s bright Sunne is set of late whose Beames Gaue Luster to your Day Day to your Night My Voyce now deafen Earth with Anatheames Roare fooâ—…th a Challenge in the Worlds Despight Tell that disguised Grieâ—…e is her Delight That Life a Slumber is of fearfull Dreames And woefull Minde abhorre to thinke of Ioy My Senses all now comfortlesse you hide Accept no Object but of blacke Annoy Teares Plaints Sighs mourning Weeds Graues gaping wide I haue nought left to wish my Hopes are dead And all with Her beneath a Marble laide SON SWeet Soule which in the Aprill of thy Yeares So to enrich the Heauen mad'st poore this Round And now with golden Rayes of Glorie crown'd Most blest abid'st aboue the Spheare of Spheares If heauenly Lawes alas haue not thee bound From looking to this Globe that all vpbeares If Rueth and Pittie there aboue bee found O daigne to lâ—…nd a Looke vnto those Teares Doe not disdaine deare Ghost this sacrifice And though I raise not Pillars to thy Praise Mine Offerings take let this for mee suffice My Heart a liuing Piramide I raise And whilst Kings Tombes with Lawrels flourish greene Thine shall with Mirtles and these Flowrs bee seene MADRIGALL THis Life which seemes so faire Is like a Bubble blowen vp in the Aire By sporting Childrens Breath VVho chase it euery where And striâ—…e who can most Motion it bequeath And though it sometime seeme of its owne Might Like to an Eye of gold to be fix'd there And firme to houer in that emptie Hight That only is because it is so light But in that Pompe it doth not long appâ—…are For euen when most admir'd it in a Thought As swell'd from nothing doth dissolue in nought SON O! It is not to mee bright Lampe of Day That in the East thou shew'st thy rosie Face O! it is not to mee thou leau'st that Sea And in these
POEMS BY WILLIAM DRVMMOND of Hawthrone-denne The second Impression EDINBVRGH Printed by ANDRO HART 1616. To the Author WHile thou dost praise the Roses Lillies Gold Which in a dangling Tresse and Face appeare Still stands the Sunne in Skies thy Songs to heare A Silence sweet each Whispering Wind doth hold Sleepe in Pasitheas Lap his Eyes doth fold The Sword falls from the God of the fift Spheare The Heards to feede the Birds to sing forbeare Each Plant breathes Loue each Flood and Fountaine cold And hence it is that that once Nymphe now Tree Who did th' Amphrisian Shepheards Sighes disdaine And scorn'd his Layes moâ—…'d by a sweeter Veine Is become pittifull and followes Thee Thee loues and vanteth that shee hath the Grace A Garland for thy Lockes to enterlace PARTHENIVS POEMS BY W. D. THE FIRST PART SONNET IN my first Yeeres and Prime yet not at Hight When sweet Conceits my Wits did entertaine Ere Beauties Force I knew or false Delight Or to what Oare shee did her Captiues chaine Led by a sacred Troupe of Phoebus Traine I first beganne to reade then Loue to write And so to praise a perfect Red and White But God wot wist not what was in my Braine Loue smylde to see in what an awfull Guise I turn'd those Antiques of the Age of Gold And that I might moe Mysteries behold Hee set so faire a Volumne to mine Eyes That I quires clos'd which dead dead Sighs but breath Ioye on this liuing Booke to reade my Death SON I Know that all beneath the Moone decayes And what by Mortalles in this World is brought In Times great Periods shall returne to nought That fairest States haue fatall Nights and Dayes I know how all the Muses heauenly Layes With Toyle of Spright which are so dearely bought As idle Sounds of few or none are sought And that nought lighter is than airie Praise I know fraile Beautie like the purple Flowre To which one Morne of Birth and Death affords That Loue a Iarring is of Mindes Accords Where Sense and Will inuassall Reasons Power Know what I list this all can not mee moue But that ô mee I both must write and loue SON YEe who so curiously doe paint your Thoughts Enlightning eu'rie Line in such a Guise That they seeme rather to haue fallen from Skies Than of a humane Hand bee mortall Draughts In one Part Sorrow so tormented lies As if his Life at eu'ry Sigh would parte Loue here blindfolded stands with Bow and Dart There Hope lookes pale Despaire with rainie Eyes Of my rude Pincell looke not for such Arte My Wit I finde now lessened to deuise So high Conceptions to expresse my Smart And some thinke Loue but fain'd if too too wise These troubled Words and Lines confus'd you finde Are like vnto their Modell my sicke Minde SON FAire is my Yoke though grieuous bee my Paines Sweet are my Wounds although they deeply smart My Bit is Gold though shortned bee the Raines My Bondage braue though I may not depart Although I burne the Fire which doth impart Those Flames so sweet reuiuing Force containes That like Arabias Bird my wasted Heart Made quicke by Death more liuely still remaines I joye though oft my waking Eyes spend Teares I neuer want Delight euen when I grone Best companied when most I am alone A Heauen of Hopes I haue midst Hells of Feares Thus euery Way Contentment strange I finde But most in Her rare Beautie my rare Minde SON HOw that vaste Heauen intitled First is rold If any other Worlds beyond it lie And People liuing in Eternitie Or Essence pure that doth this All vphold What Motion haue those fixed Sparkes of Gold The wandring Carbuncles which shine from hie Bâ—… Sprights or Bodies contrare-Wayes in Skie If they bee turn'd and mortall Things behold How Sunne postes Heauen about how Nights pale Queene With borrowed Beames lookes on this hanging Round What Cause faire Iris hath and Monsters seene In Aires laâ—…ge Fields of Light and Seas profound Did hold my wandâ—…ing Thoughts when thy sweet Eye Bade mee leaue all and only thinke on Thee SON VAunt not faire Heauens of your two glorious Lights Which though most bright yet see not when they shine And shining cannot shew their Beames diuine Both in one Place but parte by Dayes and Nights Earth vaunt not of those Treasures yee enshrine Held only deare because hidde from our Sights Your pure and burnish'd Gold your Diamonds fine Snow-passing Iuorie that the Eye delights Nor Seas of those deare Wares are in you found Vaunt not rich Pearle red Corrall which doe stirre A fond Desire in Fooles to plunge your Ground Those all more faire are to bee had in Her Pearle Iuorie Corrall Diamond Sunnes Gold Teeth Necke Lips Heart Eyes Haire are to behold SON THat learned Graecian who did so excell In Knowledge passing Sense that hee is nam'd Of all the after-Worlds Diuine doth tell That at the Time when first our Soules are fram'd Ere in these Mansions blinde they come to dwell They liue bright Rayes of that Eternall Light And others see know loue in Heauens great Hight Not toylde with ought to Reason doth rebell Most true it is for straight at the first Sight My Minde mee told that in some other Place It elsewhere saw the Idea of that Face And lou'd a Loue of heauenly pure Delight No Wonder now I feele so faire a Flame Sith I Her lou'd ere on this Earth shee came SON NOw while the Night her sable Vaile hath spred And silently her restie Coach doth rolle Rowsing with Her from TETHIS azure Bed Those starrie Nymphes which dance about the Pole While CYNTHIA in purest Cipres cled The Latmian Shepheard in a Trance descries And whiles lookes pale from hight of all the Skies Whiles dyes her Beauties in a bashfull Red While Sleepe in Triumph closed hath all Eyes And Birds and Beastes a Silence sweet doe keepe And PROTE vs monstrous People in the Deepe The Winds and Waues husht vp to rest entise I wake muse weepe and who my Heart hath slaine See still before me to augment my Paine SON SLeepe Silence Child sweet Father of soft Rest Prince whose Approach Peace to all Mortalls brings Indifferent Host to Shepheards and to Kings Sole Comforter of Minds with Griefe opprest Loe by thy charming Rod all breathing things Lie slumbring with forgetfulnesse possest And yet o're me to spred thy drowsie Wings Thou spares alas who cannot be thy Guest Since I am thine O come but with that Face To inward Light which thou art wont to show With fained Solace ease a true felt Woe Or if deafe God thou doe denie that Grace Come as thou wilt and what thou wilt bequeath I long to kisse the Image of my Death SON FAire Moone who with thy Cold and Siluer Shine Makes sweet the Horrour of the dreadfull Night Delighting the weake Eye with Smiles diuine Which PHEBVS dazells with his too much Light Bright Queene of the first
and Boreas sounds his Warres So many Waues haue not the Ocean Floods As my rent Mind hath Torments all the Night And Heart spends Sighes when PHEâ—…VS brings the Light VVhy should I beene a Partner of the Light Who crost in Birth by bad Aspects of Starres Haue neuer since had happie Day nor Night VVhy was not I a Liuer in the Woods Or Citizen of THETIS Christall Floods Than made a Man for Loue and Fortunes Warres I looke each Day when Death should ende the Warres Vnciuill Warres twixt Sense and Reasons Light My Paines I count to Mountaines Meads and Floods And of my Sorrow Partners makes the Starres All desolate I haunt the fearfull Woods VVhen I should giue my selfe to Rest at Night VVith watchfull Eyes I ne're beholde the Night Mother of Peace but ah to me of Warres And CYNTHIA Queene like shining through the Woods VVhen straight those Lampâ—… come in my Thought whose Light My Iudgement dazel'd passing brightest Starres And then mine Eyes en-isle themselues with Floods Turne to their Springs againe first shall the Floods Cleare shall the Sunne the sad and gloomie Night To dance about the Pole cease shall the Starres The Elements renew their ancient Warres Shall first and bee depriu'd of Place and Light Ere I finde Rest in Citie Fâ—…elds or Woods Ende these my Dayes Endwellers of the Woods Take this my Life yee deepe and raging Floods Sunne neuer rise to cleare mee with thy Light Horror and Darknesse keepe a lasting Night Consume me Care with thy intestine Warres And stay your Influence o're me bright Starres In vaine the Starres Endwellers of the Woods Care Horror Warres I call and raging Floods For all haue sworne no Night shall dimme my Sight SON O Sacred Blush impurpling Cheekes pure Skies With crimson Wings which spred thee like the Morne O bashfull Looke sent from those shining Eyes Which though cast down on Earth couldst Heauen adorne O Tongue in which most lushious Nectar lies That can at once both blesse and make forlorne Deare Corrall Lip which Beautie beautifies That trembling stood ere that her words were borne And you her Words Words no but Golden Chaines Which did captiue mine Eares ensnare my Soule Wise Image of her Minde Minde that containes A Power all Power of Senses to controule Yee all from Loue disswade so sweetly mee That I loue more if more my Loue could bee SON NOr Arne nor Mincius nor stately Tyber Sebethus nor the Floud into whose Streames He fell who burnt the World with borrow'd Beames Gold-rolling Tagus Munda famous Iber Sorgue Rosne Loire Garron nor prowd-banked Seine Peneus Phasis Xantâ—…us humble Ladon Nor Shee whose Nymphes excell her who lou'd Adon Faire Tamesis nor Ister large nor Râ—…eine Euphrates Tigris Iâ—…dus Hermus Gange Pearlie Hydaspes Serpent-like Meander The Golfe bereft sweet Hero her Leander Nile that farre farre his hidden Head doth range Haue euer had so rare a Cause of Praise As Ora where this Northerne Phenix stayes SON TO heare my Plaints faire Riuer Christalline Thou in a silent Slumber seemes to stay Delicious Flowrs Lillie and Columbine Yee bowe your Heades when I my Woes display Forrests in you the Mirtle Palme and Bay Haue had compassion listning to my Grones The Winds with Sighes haue solemniz'd my Mones Mong Leaues which whisper'd what they could not say The Caues the Rockes the Hills the Syluans Thrones As if euen Pitie did in them appeare Haue at my Sorrowes rent their ruethlesse Stones Each thing I finde hath sense except my Deare Who doth not thinke I loue or will not know My Griefe perchance delighting in my Woe SON SWeet Brooke in whose cleare Christall I mine Eyes Haue oft seene great in Labour of their Teares Enamell'd Banke whose shining Grauell beares These sad Characters of my Miseries High Woods whose mounting Tops menace the Spheares Wild Citizens Amphions of the Trees You gloomie Groues at hottest Noones which freeze Elysian Shades which Phebus neuer cleares Vaste solitarie Mountaines pleasant Plaines Embrodred Meads that Ocean-wayes you reach Hills Dales Springs all that my sad Cry constraines To take part of my Plaints and learne Woes Speach Will that remorselesse Faire e're Pitie show Of Grace now answere if yee ought know No. SON WIth flaming Hornes the Bull now brings the Yeare Melt doe the horride Mountaines Helmes of Snow The siluer Flouds in pearlie Channels flow The late-bare Woods greene Anadeams doe weare The Nightingall forgetting Winters Woe Calls vp the lazie Morne her Notes to heare Those Flowrs are spred which Names of Princes beare Some red some azure white and golden grow Here lowes a Heifer there bea-wailing stâ—…ayes A harmelesse Lambe not farre a Stag rebounds The Sheepe-heards sing to grazing Flockes sweet Layes And all about the Ecchoing Aire resounds Hills Dales Woods Flouds euery thing doth change But Shee in Rigour I in Loue am strange SON WHen Nature now had wonderfully wrought All AVRISTELLAS Parts except her Eyes To make those Twinnes two Lamps in Beauties Skies Shee Counsell of her starrie Senate sought Mars and Apollo first did Her aduise In Colour Blacke to wrappe those Comets bright That Loue him so might soberly disguise And vnperceiued Wound at euery Sight Chaste PHEBE spake for purest azure Dyes But IOVE and VENVS greene about the Light To frame thought best as bringing most Delight That to pin'd Hearts Hope might â—…or ay arise Nature all said a Paradise of Greene There plac'd to make all loue which haue them seene MAD. To the delightfull Greene Of you faire radiant Eine Let each Blacke yeeld beneath the starrie Arche Eyes burnisht Heauens of Loue Sinople Lampes of Ioue Saue that those Hearts which with your Flames yee parche Two burning Sunnes you proue All other Eyes compar'd with you deare Lights Bee Hells or if not Hells yet dumpish Nights The Heauens if we their Glasse The Sea beleeue bee greene not perfect blew They all make faire what euer faire yet was And they bee faire because they looke like you SON IN vaine I haunt the colde and siluer Springs To quench the Feuer burning in my Vaines In vaine Loues Pilgrime Mountaines Dales and Plaines I ouer-runne vaine Helpe long Absence brings In vaine my Friends your Counsell me constraines To flie and place my Thoughts on other Things Ah! like the Bird that fired hath her Wings The more I moue the greater are my Paines Desire alas Desire a Zeuxis new From Indies borrowing Gold from Westerne Skies Most bright Cynoper sets before mine Eyes In euery Place her Haire sweet Looke and Hew That flie runne rest I all doth proue but vaine My Life lies in those Lookes which haue me slaine SON ALl other Beauties how so e're they shine In Haires more bright than is the golden Ore Or Cheekes more faire than fairest Eglantine Or Hands like Hers who comes the Sunne before Match'd with that Heauenly Hue and Shape diuine With those deare Starres which my weake Thoughts adore Looke but like Shaddowes or if
Millions Her aduance VVhat numbers with Her enter â—…n this Dance VVith those which are to come shall Heauens them staye And All 's faire Order breake thee to obaye Euen as thy Birth Death which thee doth appall A Piece is of the Life of this great All. Strong Cities die die doe high palmie Raignes And weakling thou thus to bee handled plaines If shee bee dead then shee of lothsome Dayes Hath past the Line whose Length but Losse bewrayes Then shee hath lefâ—… this filthie Stage of Care VVhere Pleasure seldome Woe doth still repaire For all the Pleasures which it doth containe Not conteruaile the smallest Minutes Paine And tell mee Thou who dost sâ—… much admire This litle Vapour Smoake this Sparke or Fire VVhich Life is call'd what doth it thee bequeath But some few Yeeres which Birth drawes out to Death VVhich if thou paragone with Lusters runne And them whose Carriere is but now begunne In Dayes great Vaste they shall farre lesse appeare Than with the Sea when matched is a Teare But why wouldst thou Her longer wish to bee One Yeere doth serue all Natures Pompe to see Nay euen one Day and Night This Moone that Sunne Those lesser Fires about this Round which runne Bee but the same which vnder Saturnes Raigne Did the serpenting Seasons enterchaine How oft doth Life grow lesse by liuing long And what excelleth but what diâ—…th yong For Age which all abhorre yet would embrace Whiles makes the Minde as wrinckled as the Face And when that Destinies conspire with Worth That Yeeres not glorie Wrong Life soone goes forth Leaue then Lâ—…nts and thinke thou didst not liue Lawes to that fiâ—…st eternall Câ—…use to giue But to obey those Lâ—…wes which hee hath giuen And bow vnto the just Decrees of Heauen Which can not erre wâ—…at euer foggie Mists Doe blinde Men in these sublunarie Lists But what if shee for whom thou spend'st those Grones And wastest Lifes deare Torch in ruethfull Mones Shee for whose sake thou hat'st the joyfull Light Court'st solitarie Shades and irkesome Night Doth liue ô if thou canst through Teares a Space Lift thy dimm'd Lights and looke vpon this Face Looke if those Eyes which foole thou didst adore Shine not more bright than they were wont before Looke if those Roses Death could ought impaire Those Roses to thee once which seem'd so faire And if these Lockes haue lost ought of that Gold VVhich earst they had when thou them didst behold I liue and happie liue but thou art dead And still shalt bee till thou be like mee made Alas whilst wee are wrapt in Gownes of Earth And blinde heere sucke the Aire of Woe beneath Each thing in Senses Ballances wee wie And but with Toyle and Paine the Trueth descrie Aboue this waste and admirable Frame This Temple visible which World wee name VVithin whose Walles so many Lamps doe burne So many Arches opposite doe turne VVhere Elementall Brethren nurse their Strife And by intestine Warres maintaine their Life There is a World a World of perfect Blisse Pure immateriall bright more farre from this Than that high Circle which the rest enspheares Is from this dull ignoble Vale of Teares A World where all is found that heere is found But further discrepant than Heauen and Ground It hath an Earth as hath this World of yours VVith Creatures peopled stor'd with Trees and Flowrs It hath a Sea like Saphire Girdle cast VVhich decketh of harmonious Shores the Waste It hath pure Fire it hath delicious Aire Moone Sunne and Starres Heauens wonderfully faire But there Flowrs doe not fade Trees grow not olde The Creatures doe not die through Heat nor Colde Sea there not tossed is nor Aire made blacke Fire doth not nurse it selfe on others Wracke There Heauens bee not constrain'd about to range For this World hath no neede of any Change The Minutes grow not Houres Houres rise not Dayes Dayes make no Months but euer-blooming Mayes Heere I remaine and hitherward doe tend All who their Spanne of Dayes in Vertue spend VVhat euer Pleasure this low Place containes It is a Glance but of what high remaines Those who perchance thinke there can nothing bee VVithout this wide Expansion which they see And that nought else mounts Starres Circumference For that nought else is subject to their Sense Feelâ—… such a Case as one whom some Abisme Of the Deepe Ocean kept had all his Time VVho borne and nourish'd there can scarcely dreame That ought can liue without that brinie Streame Cannot beleeue that there be Temples Towres VVhich goe beyond his Caues and dampish Bowres Or there bee other People Manners Lawes Than them hee fiâ—…ds within the roaring Waues That sweetâ—…r Flowrs doe spring than grow on Rockes Or Beasts bee which excell the skalie Flockes That other Elements bee to bee found Than is the Water and this Ball of Ground But thinke that Man from those Abismes were brought And saw what curious Nature here hath wrought Did see the Meads the tall and shadie Woods The Hilles did see the cleare and ambling Floods The diuerse Shapes of Beasts which Kinds foorth bring The feathred Troupes that flie and sweetly sing Did see the Palaces the Cities faire The Forme of humane Life the Fire the Aire The brightnesse of the Sunne that dimmes his Sight The Moone the gastly Splendors of the Night VVhat vncouth Rapture would his Minde surprise How would hee his late-deare Resort despise How would hee muse how foolish hee had beene To thinke nought bee but what hee there had seene VVhy did wee get this high and vaste Desire Vnto immortall things still to aspire VVhy doth our Minde extend it beyond Time And to that highest Happinesse euen clime If wee be nought but what to Sense wee seeme And Dust as most of Worldlings vs esteeme Wee bee not made for Earth though here wee come More than the Embryon for the Mothers Wombe It weepes to bee made free and wee complaine To leaue this loathsome Iayle of Care and Paine But thou who vulgare Foot-steps dost not trace Learne to raise vp thy Minde vnto this Place And what Earth-creeping Mortalles most affect If not at all to scorne yet to neglect O chase not Shadowes vaine which when obtain'd VVere better lost than with such Trauell gain'd Thinke that on Earth which Humanes Greatnesse call Is but a glorious Title to liue thrall That Scepters Diadems and Chaires of State Not in themselues but to small Mindes are great How those who loftiest mount doe hardest light And deepest Falls bee from the highest Hight How Farne an Eccho is how all Renowne Like to a blasted Rose ere Night falles downe And though it something were thinke how this Round Is but a litle Point which doth it bound O leaue that Loue which reacheth but to Dust And in that Loue eternall only trust And Beautie which when once it is possest Can only fill the Soule and make it blest Pale Enuie jealous Emulations Feares Sighs Plaints Remorse here haue no
faire to shine Then looke and pittie pittying forgiue Vs guiltie Slaues or Seruants at thy Will Slaues if alas thou look'st how wee doe liue â—…r doing nought at all or doing ill Of an vngratefull Minde a foule Effect But if thy Gifts which largely heretofore Thou hast vpon vs powr'd thou doest respect VVee bee thy Seruants nay than Seruants more Thy Children yes and Children dearly bought But what strange Chance vs of this Lot bereaues Vile Rebells ô how basely are wee brought VVhom Grace made Children Sinne hath now made Slaues Sinne Slaues hath made but let thy Grace Sinne thrall That in our Wrongs thy mercie may appeare Thy Wisdome not so weake is Pow'r so small But thousand Wayes they can make Men thee feare O Wisdome bound-lesse admirable Grace Grace Wisdome which doe dazell Reasons Eye And could Heauens King bring from his placelesse Place On this infamous Stage of Woe to die To die our Death and with the sacred Streame Of Bloud and Water gushing from his Side To expiate that Sinne and deadly Blame Contriued first by our First Parents Pride Thus thy great Loue and Pittie heauenly King Loue Pittie which so well our Losse preuents Could euen of Euill it sâ—…lfe all Goodnesse bring And sad Beginnings cheare with glad Euents O Loue and Pittie ill knowne of these Times O Loue and Pittie carefull of our Blisse O Goodnesse with the hainous Actes and Crimes Of this blacke Age that almost vanquish'd is Make this excessiue ardour of thy Loue So warme our Coldnesse so our Liues renew That wee from Sinne Sinne may from vs remoue Wit may our Will Faith may our Wit subdue Let thy pâ—…re Loue burne vp all mortall Lust That Band of Ills which thralles our better Part And fondly makes vs worship fleshly Dust In stead of Thee in Temple of our Heart Grant when at last the Spright shall leaue this Tombe This loathsome Shop of Sinne and Mansion blinde And call d before thy Royall Seat doth come It may a Sauiour not a Iudge thee finde To the Author THe sister Nymphes who haunt the Thespian Springs Ne're did their Gifts more liberally bequeath To them who on their Hills suck'd sacred Breath Than vnto thee by which thou sweetly sings Ne're did Apollo raise on Pegase Wings A Muse more neare himselfe more farre from Earth Than thine if Shee doe weepe thy Ladies Death Or sing those sweet-sowre Panges which Passion brings To write our Thoughts in Verse doth merite Praise But those our Verse to gild in Fictions Ore Bright rich delightfull doth deserue much more As thou hast done these thy delicious Layes Thy Muses Morning doubtlesse doth bewray The neare Approach of a more glistring Day D. Murray MADRIGALLS AND Epigrammes BY W. D. MADRIGALS AND EPIGRAMMES The Statue of MEDVSA OF that MEDVSA strange Who those that did her see in Rockes did change None Image caru'd is this MEDVSAS selfe it is For whilst at Heat of Day To quench her Thirst Shee by this Spring did stay Her curling Snakes beholding in this Glasse Life did Her leaue and thus transform'd Shee was The Trojane Horse AHorse I am whom Bit Raine Rod â—…or Spurre not feare VVhen I my Riders beare VVithin my Wombe not on my Backe they sit No Streames I drinke nor care for Grasse nor Corne Arte mee a Monster wrought All Natures Workes to scorne A Mother I was without Mother borne In End all arm'd my Father I forth brought VVhat thousand Ships and Champions of Renowne Could not doe free I captiue raz'd a Towne A Louers Heauen THose Starres nay Sunnes which turne So stately in their Spheares And daz'ling doe not burne The beautie of the Morne VVhich on those Cheekes appeares The Harmonie which to that Voyce is giuen Make mee thinke yee are Heauen If Heauen yee bee ô that by pow'rfull Charmes I Atlas were to holde you in mine Armes Deepe Impression of Loue. WHom raging Dog doth bite Hee doth in Water still That Cerberus Image see Loue Mad perhaps when he my Heart did smite More to dissemble Ill Transform'd himselfe in thee For euer since thou present art to mee No Spring there is no Floud nor other Place Where I alas not see thy heauenly Face The Pourtrait of MARS and VENVS FAire PAPHOS wanton Queene Not drawne in White and Red Is truely heere as when in VVLCANS Bed She was of all Heauens laughing Senate seene Gaze on her Haire and Eine Her Browes the Bowes of Loue Her backe with Lillies spred And yee should see her turne and sweetly moue But that Shee neither so will doe nor darre For feare to wake the angrie God of Warre IÖLAS Epitaph HEre deare Iölas lies Who whilst hee liu'd in Beautie did surpasse That Boy whose heauenly Eyes Brought Cypris from aboue Or him till Death who look'd in watrie Glasse Euen Iudge the God of Loue And if the Nymphe once held of him so deare Dorine the faire would heere but shed one Teare Thou shouldst in Natures Scorne A purple Flowre see of this Marble borne Vpon the Death of a LINNET IF cruell Death had Eares Or could bee pleas'd by Songs This wing'd Musician liu'd had many yeares And Chloris mine had neuer wept these Wrongs For when it first tooke Breath The Heauens their Notes did vnto it bequeath And if that Samians sentence bee found true Amphion in this Body liu'd of new But Death for that hee nothing spares nought heares As hee doth Kings it kill'd ô Griefe ô Teares ALCONS Kisse WHat others at their Eare Two Pearles Camilla at her Nose did weare Which Alcon who nought saw For Loue is blinde robb'd with a prettie Kisse But hauing knowne his Misse And felt what Ore hee from that Mine did draw When shee to charge againe him did desire Hee fled and said foule Water quenched Fire ICARVS WHilst with audacious Wings I sprang those airie Wayes And fill'd a Monster new with Dread and Feares The feathred People and their Eagle Kings Dazel'd with Phoebus Rayes And charmed with the Musicke of the Spheares VVhen Pennes could moue no more and Force did faile I measur'd by a Fall these loftie Bounds Yet doth Renowne my Losses counteruaile For still the Shore my braue Attempt resounds A Sea an Element doth beare my Name VVho hath so vaste a Tombe in Place or Fame Cherries MY Wanton weepe no more The â—…osing of your Cherries Those and farre sweeter Berries Your Sister in good store Hath spred on Lips and Face Be glad kisse but with me and hold your peace Of THAVMANTIA beholding her selfe in a Marble WOrld wonder not that I Engraue thus in my Brest This Angell Face which mee bereaues of Rest Since things euen wanting Sense cannot denie To lodge so deare a Guest And this hard Marble Stone Receiues the same and Ioues but cannot grone Loue suffereth no Parasol THose Eyes deare Eyes bee Spheares VVhere two bright Sunnes are roll'd That faire Hand to behold Of whitest Snowe appeares Then while yee coylie stand To hide
from mee those Eyes Sweet I would you aduise To choose some other Fanne than that white Hand For if yee doe for Trueth most true this know That Sunnes ere long must needes consume warme Snow Sleeping Beautie O Sight too dearely bought Shee sleepes and though those Eyes VVhich lighten Cupids Skies Bee clos'd yet such a Grace Enuironeth that Place That I through Wonder to grow faint am brought Sunnes if ecclips'd yee haue such Power diuine O! how can I endure you when yee shine The qualitie of a Kisse THe Kisse with so much Strife VVhich I late got sweet Heart VVas it a Signe of Death or was it Life Of Life it could not bee For I by it did sigh my Soule in thee Nor was it Death Death doth no Ioy impart Thou silent stand'st ah what thou didst bequeath To mee a dying Life was liuing Death Of PHILLIS IN Peticote of Greene Her Haire about her Eine Phillis beneath an Oake Sate milking her faire Flocke Among that strained Moysture rare Delight Her Hand seem'd Milke in Milke it was so white Kisses desired THough I with strange Desire To kisse those rosie Lips am set on Fire Yet will I cease to craue Sweet Touches in such store As hee who long before From Lesbia them in thousands did receaue Heart mine but once mee kisse And I by that sweet Blisse Euen sweare to cease you to importune more Poore one no Number is Another Word of mee yee shall not heare After one Kisse but still one Kisse my Deare Of DAMETAS DAMETAS dream'd he saw his Wife at Sport And found that sight was through the hornie Port. The Canon WHen first the Canon from her gaping Throte Against the Heauen her roaring Sulphure shote Ioue wak'ned with the Noyce and ask'd with Wonder VVhat mortall Wight had stollen from him his Thunder His christall Towres hee fear'd but Fire and Aire So deepe did stay the Ball from mounting there APELLES enamour'd of CAMPASPE ALEXANDERS Mistresse POore Painter whilst I sought To counterfaite by Arte The fairest Frame that Nature euer wrought And hauing limm'd each Part Except her matchlesse Eyes Scarce on those Twinnes I gaz'd As Lightning falles from Skies When straight my Hand benumm'd was Mind amaz'd And ere that Pincell halfe them had exprest Loue all had drawne no grauen within my Brest CAMPASPE ON Starres shall I exclame VVhich thus my Fortune change Or shall I else reuenge Vpon my selfe this shame Vnconstant Monarch or shall I thee blame Who let'st APELLES proue The sweet Delights of Alexanders Loue No Starres my selfe and thee I all forgiue And joye that thus I liue Kings know not Beautie hence mine was despis'd The Painter did and mee hee dearly priz'd Vnpleasant Musicke IN Fields Ribaldo stray'd Mayes Tapestrie to see And hearing on a Tree A Cuckooe sing hee sigh'd and softly said Loe how alas euen Birds sit moâ—…king mâ—…e A Iest. IN a most holy Church a holy Man Vnto a holy Saint with Visage wan And Eyes like Fountaines mumbled forth a Prayer And with strange Words and Sigâ—…es made blacke the Aire And hauing long so stay'd and long long pray'd A thousand Crosses on himselfe hee lay'd Then with some sacred Beads hung on his Arme His Eyes his Mouth Brest Temples did hee charme Thus not content strange Worship hath none End To kisse the Earth at last hee did pretend And bowing downe besought with humble Grace An aged Woman neare to giue some Place Shee turn'd and turning vp her Pole beneath Said Sir kisse heere for it is all but Earth NARCISSVS FLouds cannot quench my Flames ah in this Well I burne not drowne for what I cannot tell TO THAVMANTIA singing IS it not too too much Thou late didst to mee proue A Basiliske of Loue And didst my Wits bewitch Vnlesse to cause more Harme Made Syrene too thou with thy Voyce mee charme Ah! though thou so my Reason didst controule That to thy Lookes I could not proue a Mole Yet doe mee not that Wrong As not to let mee turne Aspe to thy Song Of her Dog WHen her deare Bosome clips That litle Curre which faunes to touch her Lips Or when it is his Hap To lie lapp'd in her Lap O! it growes Noone with mee With hotter-pointed Beames My burning Planet streames VVhat Rayes were earst in Lightnings changed bee VVhen oft I muse how I to those Extreames Am brought I finde no Cause except that shee In Loues bright Zodiacke hauing trac'd each Roome To fatall Syrius now at last is come A Kisse HArke happie Louers harke This first and last of Ioyes This Sweetner of Annoyes This Nectare of the Gods Yee call a Kisse is with it selfe at ods And halfe so sweet is not In equall Measure got At Light of Sunne as it is in the Darke Harke happie Louers harke Cornucopia IF for one only Horne Which Nature to him gaue So famous is the noble Vnicorne What Praise should that Man haue Whose Head a Ladie braue Doth with a goodlie Paire at once adorne Of AMINTAS OVer a christall Source Amintas layde his Face Of popling Streames to see the restlesse Course But scarce hee had o'reshadowed the Place When spying in the Ground a Childe arise Like to himselfe in Stature Face and Eyes Hee rose o'rejoy'd and cried Deare Mates approch see whom I haue descried The Boy of whom strange Stories Shepheards tell Oft-called Hylas dwelleth in this Well PAMPHILVS SOme Ladies wed some loue and some adore them I like their wanton Sport then care not for them Vpon a Glasse IF thou wouldst see Threedes purer than the Gold VVhere Loue his Wealth doth show But take this Glasse and thy faire Haire behold If Whitenesse thou wouldst see more white than Snow And reade on Wonders Booke Take but this Glasse and on thy Forâ—…head looke VVouldst thou in Winter see a crimsin Rose VVhose Thornes doe hurt each Heart Looke but in Glasse how thy sweet Lips doe close Wouldst thou see Planets which all Good impart Or Meteores diuine But take this Glasse and gaze vpon thine Eine No Planets Rose Snow Gold cannot compare With you deare Eyes Lips Browes and amber Haire Of a Bee AS an audacious Knight Come with some Foe to fight His Sword doth brandish makes his Armour ring So this prowde Bee at home perhaps a King Did buzzing flie about And Tyrant after thy faire Lip did sting O Champion strange as stout Who hast by Nature found Sharpe Armes and Trumpet shrill to sound and wound Of that same O Doe not kill that Bee That thus hath wounded thee Sweet it was no Despight But Hue did him deceaue For when thy Lips did close Hee deemed them a Rose What wouldst thou further craue Hee wanting Wit and blinded with Delight Would faine haue kiss'd but Mad with Ioy did bite Of a Kisse AH of that cruell Bee Thy Lips haue suckt too much For when they mine did touch I found thaâ—… both they hurt and sweetned mee This by the Sting they haue And
that they of the Honey doe receaâ—…e Deare Kisse else by what Arte Couldst thou at once both please and wound my Heart IDMON to VENVS IF Acidalias Queene Thou quench in mee thy Torch And with the same Thaumantias Heart shalt scorch Each Yeere a Mirtle Tree Heere I doe vow to consecrâ—…te to thee And when the Meads grow greene I will of sweetest Flowrs Weaue thousand Garlands to adorne thy Bowrs A Louers Plaint IN midst of silent Night VVhen Men Birds Beasts doe rest VVith Loue and Feare possest To Heauen and Flore I count my heauie Plight Againe with roseate Wings When Morne peepes forth and Philomela sings Then Voyde of all Reliefe Doe I renew my Griefe Day followes Night Night Day whilst still I proue That Heauen is deafe Flore carelesse of my Loue. His Firebrand LEaue Page that slender Torch And in this gloomie Night Let only shine the Light Of Loues hote Brandon which my Heart doth scorch A Sigh or Blast of Wind My Teares or Droppes of Raine May that at once make blinde VVhilst this like Aetna burning shall remaine DAPHNIS VOW WHen Sunne doth bring the Day From the Hesperian Sea Or Moone her Coach doth rolle Aboue the Northerne Pole VVhen Serpents can not hisse And Louers shall not kisse Then may it be but in no time till then That Daphnis can forget his Orienne Of NISA NIsa Palemons Wife him weeping told Hee kept not Grammer Rules now beeing old For why quoth shee Position false make yee Putting a short thing where a long should bee Beauties Idea WHo would Perfections faire Idea see Let him come looke on Chloris sweet with mee White is her Haire her Teeth white white her Skinne Blacke bee her Eyes her Eye-browes Cupids Inne Her Lockes her Body Hands doe long appeare But Teeth short Bellie short short either Eare The Space twixt Shoulders Eyes is wide Browes wide Straite Waste the Mouth straite and her virgine Pride Thicke are her Lips Thighs with Banckes swelling there Her Nose is small small Fingers and her Haire Her sugred Mouth her Cheekes her Nailes bee red Litle her Foot Pap litle and her Hed. Such Venus was such was the Flame of Troy Such Chloris is my Hope and only Ioy. CRATONS Death AMidst the Waues profound Farre farre from all Reliefe The honest Fisher Craton ah is drownd Into his litle Skife The Boords of which did serue him for a Beare So that to the blacke World when hee came neare Of him no Waftage greedie Charon got For hee in his owne Boat Did passe that Floud by which the Gods dow sweare ARMELINS Epitaph NEare to this Eglantine Enclosed lies the milke-white Armeline Once Chloris onlie Ioye Now onlie her annoy Who enuied was of the most happie Swaines That keepe their Flocks in Mountaines Dales or Plaines For oft shee bare the wanton in her Arme And oft her Bed and Bosome did he warme Now when vnkindlie Fates did him destroy Blest Dog he had the Grace With Teares for him that Chloris wet her Face The Statue of VENVS sleeping BReake not my sweet Repose Thou whom free Will or Chance brings to this Place Let Lids these Comets close O doe not seeke to see their shining Grace For when mine Eyes thou seest they thine will blinde And thou shalt parte but leaue thy Heart behinde LILLAS Prayer LOue if thou wilt once more That I to thee returne Sweete God make me not burne For quiuering Age that doth spent Dayes deplore Nor doe not wound my Hart For some vnconstant Boy Who ioyes to loue yet makes of Loue a Toy But ah if I must prooue thy golden Dart Of grace O let mee finde A sweet young Louer with an aged Mind Thus Lilla pray'd and Idas did replie Who heard Deare haue thy wish for such am I. The vnkindnesse of RORA. WHilst sighing forth his Wrongs In sweet though dolefull Songs Alexis seekes to charme his Roras Eares The Hills are heard to mone To sigh each Spring appeares Trees euen heard Trees through Rine distill their Teares And soft growes euery Stone But Teares Sighes Songs can not faire Rora moue Prowde of his Plaints shee glories in his Loue. ANTHEA Gift THis virgine Locke of Haire To Idmon Anthea giues Idmon for whom shee liues Though oft shee mixe his Hopes with cold Despaire This now but absent if hee constant proue VVith Gift more deare shee vowes to meet his Loue. TO THAVMANTIA Come let vs liue and loue And kisse Thaumantia mine I shall the Elme bee bee to mee the Vine Come let vs teach new Billing to the Doue Nay to augment our Blisse Let Soules euen other kisse Let Loue a Worke-man bee Vndoe distemper and his Cunning proue Of Kisses three make one of one make three Though Moone Sunne Starres bee Bodies farre more bright Let them not vaunt they match vs in Delight Epitaph THis deare though not respected Earth doth hold One for his Worth whose Tombe should bee of Gold Of LIDA SVch Lida is that who Her sees Through Enuie or through Loue straight dies A Wish To forge to mightie Ioue The Thunder-bolts aboue Nor on this Round below Rich Midas Skill to know And make all Gold I touch I doe not craue nor other Cunning such For all those Artes bee vnderneath the Skie I wish but Phillis Lapidare to bee A Louers Day and Night BRight Meteore of Day For mee in Thetis Bowres for euer staye Night to this flowrie Globe Ne're show for mee thy starre-embrodred Robe My Night my Day doe not proceede from you But hang on Miras Browe For when shee Iowres and hides from mee her Eyes Midst clearest Day I finde blacke Night arise When smyling shee againe those Twinnes doth turne In midst of Night I finde Noones Torch to burne The Statue of ADONIS WHen Venus longst that Plaine This Parian Adon saw Shee sigh'd and said What Power breakes Destines Law World mourned Boy and makes thee liue againe Then with stretcht Armes shee ran him to enfold But when shee did behold The Bore whose snowie Tuskes did threaten Death Feare closed vp her Breath Who can but grant then that these Stones doe liue Sith this bred Loue and that a Wound did giue CLORVS to a Groue OLd Oake and you thicke Groue I euer shall you loue With these sweet-smelling Briers For Briers Oake Groue yeâ—… crowned my Desires When vnderneath your Shade I left my Woe and Flore her Maidenhead A Couplet encomiasticke LOue 1 Cypris 2 Phoebus 3 will feede 1 decke 2 and crowne 3 Thy Heart 1 Browes 2 Verse 3 with Flames 1 with Flowrs 2 Renowne3. An other THy Muse not-able full il-lustred Rimes Make thee the Poetâ—… Aster of our Times The Rose FLowre which of ADONS Blood Sprang when of that cleare Flood Which Venus wept an other white was borne The sweet Cynarean Youth thou right dost show But this sharpe-pointed Thorne Which doth so prowde about thy Crimsin grow What doth it represent Boares Tuskes perhaps his snowie Flancke which rent O
Show of Showes of vnesteemed Worth Which both what kill'd and what was kill'd sett'st forth To a Riuer SIth shee will not that I Show to the World my Ioy Thou who oft mine Annoy Hast heard deare Flood tell Thetis Nymphettes bright That not a happier Wight Doth breath beneath the Skie More sweet more white more faire Lips Hands and amber Haire Tell none did euer touch A smaller daintier Waste Tell neuer was embract But Peace sith shee forbids thou tell'st too much Thaïs Metamorphose IN Briareus hudge Thaïs wish'd shee might change Her Man and pray'd him herefore not to grudge Nor fondly thinke it strange For if said shee I might the Parts dispose I wish you not an hundreth Armes nor Hands But hundreth Things like those VVith which Priapus in our Garden stands Vpon a Baye Tree not long since growing in the Ruines of VIRGILS Tombe THose Stones which once had Trust Of Maros sacred Dust Which now of their â—…irst Beautie spoylde are seene That they due Praise not want Inglorious and remaine A Delian Tree faire Natures only Plant Now courtes and shadowes with her Tresses greenâ—… Sing Iö Paean yee of Phoebus Traine Though Enuie Auarice Time your Tombes throw downe With Maiden Lawrells Nature will them crowne Epitaph THen Death thee hath beguild Alectos first borne Child Thou who didst thrall all Lawes Then against Wormes canst not maintaine thy Cause Yet Wormes more iust than thou now doe no Wrong Sith all doe wonder they thee spar'd so long For though from Life but lately thou didst passe Ten Springs are gone since thou corrupted was FLORAS Flowre VEnus doth loue the Rose Apollo those deare Flowrs Which were his Paramours The Queene of sable Skies The subtile Lunaries But Flore likes none of those For faire to Her no Flowre seemes saue the Lillie And why because one Letter turnes it P. MELAMPVS Epitaph ALl that a Dog could haue The good Melampus had Nay hee had more than what in Beasts wee craâ—…e For hee could playe the Braue And often like a Thraso sterne goe Mad And if yee had not seene but heard him barke Yee would haue sworne hee was your Parish Clarke KALAS Complaint KAla old Mopsus Wife Kala with fairest Face For whom the Neighbour Swaines oft were at Strife As shee to milke her milke-white Flocke did tend Sigh'd with a heauie Grace And said What Wretch like mee doth leade her Life I see not how my Taske can haue an End All Day I draw these streaming Dugs in Fold All Night mine emptie Husbands soft and cold The Happinesse of a Flea HOw Happier is that Flea Which in thy Brest doth playe Than that pied Butterflie Which courtes the Flame and in the same doth die That hath a light Delight Poore Foole contented only with a Sight When this doth sporte and swell with dearest Food And if hee die hee Knight-like dies in Blood Of that same POore Flea then thou didst die Yet by so faire a Hand That thus to die was Destine to command Thou die didst yet didst trie A Louers last Delight To vault on virgine Plaines Her kisse and bite Thou diedst yet hast thy Tombe Betweene those Pappes ô deare and stately Roome Flea happier farre more blest Than Phoenix burning in his spicie Nest. LINAS Virginitie WHo Lina weddeth shall most happie bee For hee a Maide shall finde Though Maiden none bee shee A Girle or Boy beneath her Waste confinde And thought bright Ceres Lockes bee neuer shorne Hee shall be sure this Yeere to lacke no Corne. LOVE naked ANd would yee Louers know VVhy Loue doth naked goe Fond waggish changeling Lad Late whilst Thaumantias Voyce Hee wondring heard it made him so rejoyce That hee o'rejoy'd ran Mad And in a franticke Fit threw Cloathes away And since from Lip and Lap hers can not straye NIOBE WRetched Niobè I am Let Wretches reade my Case Not such who with a Teare ne're wet their Face Seuen Daughters of mee came And Sonnes as many which one fatall Day Orb'd Mother tooke away Thus reft by Heauens vnjust Griefe turn'd mee Stone Stone too mee doth entombe VVhich if thou dost mistrust Of this hard Rocke but ope the flintie Wombe And heere thou shalt finde Marble and no Dust. Change of Loue. ONce did I weepe and grone Drinke Teares draw loathed Breath And all for Loue of one VVho did affect my Death But now Thankes to Disdaine I liue relieu'd of Paine For Sighs I singing goe I burne not as before no no no no. Wilde Beautie IF all but Yce thou bee How dost thou thus mee burne Or how at Fire which thou dost raise in mee Sith Yce thy selfe in Streames dost thou not turne But rather plaintfull Case Of Yce art Marble made to my Disgrace O Miracle of Loue not heard till now Cold Yce doth burne and hard by Fire doth grow Constant Loue. TIme makes great States decay Time doth Mayes Pompe disgrace Time drawes dâ—…epe Furrowes in the fairest Face Time Wisdome Force Renowne doth take away Time doth consume the Yeeres Time Changes workes in Heauens eternall Spheares Yet this fierce Tyrant which doth all deuoure To lessen Loue in mee shall haue no Power TO CHLORIS SEe Chloris how the Cloudes Tilte in the azure Lists And how with Stygian Mists Each horned Hill his giant Forehead shroudes Ioue thundreth in the Aire The Aire growne great with Raine Now seemes to bring Deucalions Dayes againe I see thee quake come let vs home repaire Come hide thee in mine Armes If not for Loue yet to shunne greater Harmes VPON A POVRTRAIT THe Goddesse that in Amathus doth raigne With siluer Tramells and Saphire-colour'd Eyes When naked frâ—…m her Mothers christall Plaine Shee first appear'd vnto the wondring Skies Or when the golden Apple to obtaine Her blushing Snowes amazed Idas Trees Did neuer looke in halfe so faire a Guise As shee heere drawne all other Ages Staine O God what Beauties to inflame the Soule And hold the wildest Hearts in Chaines of Gold Faire Lockes sweet Face Loues stately Capitole Deare Necke which dost that heauenly Frame vp-hold If Vertue would to mortall Eyes appeare To rauish Sense shee would your Beautie weare Vpon that same IF Heauen the Starres and Nature did her grace With all Perfections found the Moone aboue And what excelleth in this lower Place Did place in her to breede a World of Loue If Angells Gleames shine on her fairest Face Which make Heauens Ioy on Earth the Gazer proue And her bright Eyes the Orbs which Beautie moue Doe glance like Phoebus in his glorious Race What Pincell paint what Colour to the Sight So sweet a Shape can show the blushing Morne The Red must lend the milkie Way the White And Night the Starres which her rich Crowne adorne To draw her right But then that all agree The Heauen the Table Zeuxis Ioue must bee Vpon that same drawne with a Pansie WHen with braue Arte the curious Painter drew This heauenly Shape the Hand why made hee beare With golden