brests Not Oratours so much with flowing words Can sway the hearts of men and whet their swords Or blunt them at their pleasure as our straines Whose larger Spheare the Orbe of prose containes Can mens affections lessen or increase And guide their passions whisp'ring warre or peace Tyrtaeus by the vigour of his verse Made Sparta conquer while his lines reherse Her former glory almost then subdude By stronger foes and when the people rude Contend among themselues with mutuall wrongs He tempers discord with his milder songs This poore lame Poet hath an equall praise With Captaines and with States men of his dayes The Muses claime possession in those men Who first aduentur'd with a nimble pen To paint their thoughts in new inuented signes And spoke of Natures workes in numbred lines This happy Art compar'd with plainer wayes Was sooner borne and not so soone decayes She safer stands from times deuouring wrong As better season'd to continue long But as the streames of time still forward flow So Wits more idle and distrustfull grow They yeeld this Fort and cowardly pretend Prose is a castle easier to defend Nor was this change effected in a day But with degrees â—nd by a stealing way They pull the Muses feathers one by one And are not seene till both the wings be gone If man inioying such a precious Mine Esteem'd his nature almost made Diuine When he beheld th' expression of his thought To such a height and Godlike glory brought This change may well his fading ioy confound To see it naked creeping on the ground Yet in the lands that honour'd learnings name Were alwayes some that kept the vestall flame Of pow'rfull Verse on whose increase or end The periods of the soules chiefe raigne depend Now in this Realme I see the golden age Returne to vs whose comming shall asswage Distracting strife and many hearts inspire To gather fewell for this sacred fire On which if you great Prince your eyes will cast And like Fauonius giue a gentle blast The liuely flame shall neuer yeeld to death But gaine immortall spirit by your breath To the Prince IF eu'ry man a little world we name You are a World most like the greatest frame Your loue of Learning spreads your glory farre Lifts you to heau'n and makes you there a Starre In actiue sports and formes of martiall deeds Like Fire and Ayre your nimble courage breeds A rare amazement and a sweet delight To Brittaines who behold so deare a sight Though higher Orbes such glorious signes containe Doe not braue Prince this lower Globe disdaine In pure and fruitfull water we may see Your minde from darkenesse cleare in bounty free And in the steddy resting of the ground Your noble firmenesse to your friend is found For you are still the same and where you loue No absence can your constant mind remoue So goodnesse spreads it selfe with endlesse lines And so the Light in distant places shines He that aduentures of your worth to sing Attempts in vaine to paint a boundlesse thing An Epithalamium vpon the happy marriage of our Soueraigne Lord King Charles and our gracious Lady Queene MARY THe Ocean long contended but in vaine To part our shore from France Let Neptune shake his mace swelling waues aduance The former Vnion now returnes againe This Isle shall once more kisse the Maine Ioyn'd with a flowry bridge of loue on which the Graces dance Leander here no dang'rous iourney takes To touch his Heros hand Our Hellespont with Ships becomes as firme as Land When this sweete Nymph her place of birth forsakes And England signes of welcome makes As many as our gladsome coasts haue little graines of sand That voyce in which the Continent was blest Now to this Iland calls The liuing Woods and Rocks to frame new rising Walls The moouing Hills salute this happy guest The Riuers to her seruice prest Seine into Thames Garonne to Trent and Loire to Seuerne falls This Royall Payre the Bridegroome and the Bride With equall glory shine Both full of sparkling light both sprung from race diuine Their Princely Fathers Europs highest pride The Westerne World did sweetly guide To theÌ„ as Fathers of their Realmes we goldeÌ„ Crownes assigne Great Henry neuer vanquisht in the field Rebellious foes could tame The Wisdome of our James bred terror in his Name So that his proudest Aduersaries yeeld Glad to be guarded with his shield Where Peace with drops of heau'nly dew supprest Dissention flame Our Charles and Mary now their course prepare Like those two greater Lights Which God in midst of Heau'n exalted to our sights To guide our footsteps with perpetuall care Times happy changes to declare The one affoords vs healthfull daies the other quiet nights See how the Planets and each lesser fire Along the Zodiake glide And in this stately traine their offices diuide No Starre remaines exempted from this Quire But all are ioyn'd in one desire To moue as these their wheeles shall turne and rest where thâ—â— abiâ—â— What can these shouts and glit'tring showes portend But neuer fading ioyes The Lords in rich attire the people with their noyse Expresse to what a height their hopes ascend Which like a Circle haue no end Their strength no furious tempests shake nor creeping age destroyeâ— On this foundation we expect to build The Towres of earthly blisse Mirth shall attend on Health and Peace shall plenty kisse The Trees with fruite with Flowres our Gardens fill'd Sweete honey from the leaues distill'd For now Astraeas raigne appeares to be a Tipe of this O may our Children with their rauish't eyes A race of Sonnes behold Whose birth shal change our Ir'n to Siluer Brasse to Gold Proceede white houres that from this stocke may rise Victorious Kings whom Fame shall prize More dearely then all other names within her Booke enroll'd At the end of his Maiesties first yeere Sonnet first YOur Royall Father Iames the Good and Great Proclaim'd in March wheÌ„ first we felt the Spring A World of blisse did to our Iland bring And at his Death he made his yeeres compleate Although three dayes he longer held his seate Then from that houre when he reioyc'd to sing Great Brittaine torne before enioyes a King Who can the periods of the Starres repeate The Sunne who in his annuall circle takes A dayes full quadrant from th' ensuing yeere Repayes it in foure yeeres and equall makes The number of the dayes within his Spheare Iames was our earthly Sunne who call'd to Heau'n Leaues you his Heire to make all fractions eu'n Sonnet second ABout the time when dayes are longer made When nights are warmer the aire more cleare When verdant leaues and fragrant flowers appeare Whose beauty winter had constrained to fade About the time when Gabriels words perswade The blessed Virgin to incline her care And to conceyue that Sonne whom she shall beare Whose death and rising driue away the shade About this time so oft so highly blest By precious gifts
our hearts extend our voyce To shew with what affection we reioyce VVhen friends or kinsmen wealth and honour gaine Or are return'd to freedome from the chaine How shall your seruants and your friends my Lord Declare their ioy who find no sound no word Sufficient for their thoughts since you haue got That Iewell Health which Kingdomes equall not From sicknesse freed a Tyrant farre more fell Then Turkish Pirates who in Gallies dwell The Muses to the friend of Musicke bring The signes of gladnesse Orpheus strikes a string VVhich can inspire the dull can cheare the sad And to the dead can liuely motion adde Some play some sing while I whose onely skill Is to direct the organ of my Quill That from my hand it may not runne in vaine But keepe true time with my commanding braine I will bring forth my Musicke and will trie To rayse these dumbe yet speaking Letters high Till they contend with sounds till arm'd with wing My featherd pen surmount Apollo's strings We much reioyce that lightsome calmes asswage The fighting humours blind with mutuall rage So sing the Mariners exempt from feare When stormes are past and hopefull signes appeare So chaunts the mounting Larke her gladsome lay When night giues place to the delightfull day In this our mirth the greatest ioy I finde Is to consider how your noble minde Will make true vse of those afflictions past And on this ground will fix your vertue fast You hence haue learn'd th' vncertaine state of man And that no height of glitt'ring honour can Secure his quiet for almighty God Who rules the high can with his pow'rfull rod Represse the greatest and in mercy daignes With daug'rous ioyes to mingle wholsome paines Though men in sicknesse draw vnquiet breath And count it worst of euils next to death Yet such his goodnesse is who gouernes all That from this bitter spring sweete riuers fall Here we are truly taught our selues to know To pitty others who indure like woe To feele the waight of sinne the onely cause Whence eu'ry body this corruption drawes To make our peace with that correcting hand Which at each moment can our liues command These are the blest effects which sicknesse leaues VVhen these your serious brest aright conceaues You will no more repent your former paine Then we our ioy to see you well againe To the memory of the faire and thrice vertuous Gentlewoman Mistris Elizabeth Neuell ANymph is dead milde vertuous young faire Death neuer counts by dayes or mon'ths or yeeres Oft in his sight the Infant old appeares And to his earthly mansion must repaire VVhy should our sighes disturbe the quiet Aire For when the flood of Time to ruine beares No beauty can preuaile nor parents teares VVhen life is gone we of the flesh despaire Yet still the happy soule immortall liues In heauen as we with pious hope conceiue And to the Maker endlesse prayses giues That she so soone this lothsome world might leaue VVe iudge that glorious Spirit doubly blest VVhich from short life ascends t' eternall rest Of the truly Noble and Excellent Lady the Lady Marquesse of Winchester CAn my poore lines no better office haue But lie like Scritch-Owles still about the graue VVhen shall I take some pleasure for my paine Commending them that can commend againe VVhen shall my Muse in loue-sicke lines recite Some Ladies worth which she of whom I write VVith thankfull smiles may reade in her owne dayes Or when shall I a breathing woman prayse Oneuer Mine are too ambitious strings They will not sound but of eternall things Such are freed-soules but had I thought it fit T' exalt a spirit to a body knit I would confesse I spent my time amisse VVhen I was slow to giue due praise to this Now when all weepe it is my time to sing Thus from her ashes must my Poem spring Though in the race I see some swiftly runne I will not crowne them till the goale be won â—ill death ye mortals cannot happy be VVhat can I then but woe and dangers see If in your liues I write now when ye rest I will insert your names among the blest And now perhaps my Verses may increase Your rising fame though not your boundlesse peace Which if they euer could may they make thine Great Lady further if not clearer shine I could thy husbands highest Styles relate Thy Fathers Earledome and that Englands state VVas wholy manag'd by thy Grandsires brow But those that loue thee best will best allow That I omit to praise thy match and Line And speake of things that were more truely thine Thou thought'st it base to build on poore remaines Of noble bloud which ranne in others veines As many doe who beare no flowres nor fruite But shew dead stocks which haue beene of repute And liue by meere remembrance of a sound Which was long since by winds disperst and drown'd While that false worth which they suppose they haue Is digg'd vp new from the corrupting Graue For thou hadst liuing honours not decay'd With wearing time and needing not the ayd Of Heraulds in the haruest of whose art None but the vertuous iustly clayme a part Since they our Parents memories renew For imitation not for idle view Yet what is all their skill if we compare Their paper works with those which liuely are In such as thou hast been whose present lookes If many such were would surpresse all bookes For their examples would alone suffice They that the Countrey see the Map despise For thee a Crowne of Vertues we prepare The chiefe is Wisdome in thy Sex most rare By which thou didst thy husbands state maintaine VVhich sure had falne without thee and in vaine Had aged Paulet wealth and honours heap'd Vpon his House if strangers had them reapt In vaine to height by safe still steps he climes And serues fiue Princes in most diff'rent times In vaine is he a Willow not an Oke Which winds might easly bend yet neuer broke In vaine he breakes his sleepe and is diseas'd And grieues himselfe that others may be pleas'd In vaine he striues to beare an equall hand 'Twixt Somerset and bold Northumberland And to his owne close ends directing all Will rise with both but will with neither fall All this had been in vaine vnlesse he might Haue left his heires cleare knowledge as their right But this no sonne infallibly can draw From his Descent by Nature or by Law That treasure which the soule with glory decks Respects not birth-right nor the nobler Sex For women oft haue mens defects suppli'd VVhose office is to keepe what men prouide So hast thou done and made thy name as great As his who first exalted Paulets seate Neere dew yet not too neere the thunders blow Some stood 'twixt Ioue and him though most below O well waigh'd dignity selected place Prouided for continuance of his race Not by Astrologie but Prudence farre More pow'rfull then the force of any Starre The Dukes are
sauage Feudes and shall those lets deface Which keepe the Bordrers from a deare imbrace Both Nations shall in Britaines Royall Crowne Their diffring names the signes of faction drowne The siluer streames which from this Spring increase Bedew all Christian hearts with drops of peace Obserue how hopefull Charles is borne t' asswage The winds that would disturbe this golden age When that great King shall full of glory leaue The earth as base then may this Prince receiue The Diadem without his Fathers wrong May take it late and may possesse it long Aboue all Europes Princes shine thou bright O Gods selected care and mans delight Here gentle sleepe forsooke his clouded browes And full of holy thoughts and pious vowes He kist the ground assoone as he arose When watchfull Digby who among his foes Had wanderd vnsuspected all the night Reports that Richard is prepar'd to fight Long since the King had thought it time to send For trusty Norfolke his vndaunted friend Who hasting from the place of his abode Found at the doore a world of papers strow'd Some would affright him from the Tyrants aide Affirming that his Master was betray'd Some laid before him all those bloody deeds From which a line of sharpe reuenge proceeds With much compassion that so braue a Knight Should serue a Lord against whom Angels fight And others put suspicions in his minde That Richard most obseru'd was most vnkind The Duke awhile these cautious words reuolues With serious thoughts and thus at last resolues â—f all the Campe proue traytors to my Lord Shall spotlesse Norfolke falsisie his word Mine oath is past I swore t'vphold his Crowne And that shall swim or I with it will drowne It is too late now to dispute the right Dare any tongue since Yorke spred forth his light Northumberland or Buckingham defame Two valiant Cliffords Roos or Beaumonts name Because they in the weaker quarrell die They had the King with them and so haue I. But eu'ry eye the face of Richard shunnes For that foule murder of his brothers sonnes Yet lawes of Knighthood gaue me not a sword To strike at him whom all with ioynt accord Haue made my Prince to whom I tribute bring I hate his vices but adore the King Victorious Edward if thy soule can heare Thy seruant Howard I deuoutly sweare That to haue sau'd thy children from that day My hopes on earth should willingly decay Would Glouster then my perfect faith had tryed And made two graues when noble Hastings died This said his troopes he into order drawes Then doubled haste redeemes his former pause So stops the Sayler for a voyage bound When on the Sea he heares the tempests sound Till pressing hunger to remembrance sends That on his course his housholds life depends With this he cleares the doubts that vext his minde And puts his ship to mercy of the winde The Dukes stout presence and couragious lookes Were to the King as falls of sliding brookes Which bring a gentle and delightfull rest To weary eyes with grieuous care opprest He bids that Norfolke and his hopefull sonne Whose rising fame in Armes this day begun Should leade the vantguard for so great command He dares not trust in any other hand The rest he to his owne aduice referres And as the spirit in that body stirres Then putting on his Crowne a fatall signe So offer'd beasts neere death in Garlands shine He rides about the rankes and striues t' inspire Each brest with part of his vnwearied fire To those who had his brothers seruants been And had the wonders of his valour seene He saith My fellow Souldiers though your swords Are sharpe and need not whetting by my words Yet call to minde those many glorious dayes In which we treasur'd vp immortall prayse If when I seru'd I euer fled from foe Fly ye from mine let me be punisht so But if my Father when at first he try'd How all his sonnes could shining blades abide Found me an Eagle whose vndazled eyes Affront the beames which from the steele arise And if I now in action teach the same Know then ye haue but chang'd your Gen'ralls name Be still your selues ye fight against the drosse Of those that oft haue runne from you with losse How many Somersets dissentions brands Haue felt the force of our reuengefull hands From whome this youth as from a princely floud Deriues his best yet not vntainted bloud Haue our assaults made Lancaster to droupe And shall this Welshman with his ragged troupe Subdue the Norman and the Saxon line That onely Merlin may be thought diuine See what a guide these fugitiues haue chose Who bred among the French our ancient foes Forgets the English language and the ground And knowes not what our drums trumpets sound To others minds their willing othes he drawes He tells his iust decrees and healthfull lawes And makes large proffers of his future grace Thus hauing ended with as chearefull face As Nature which his stepdame still was thought Could lend to one without proportion wrought Some with loud shouting make the valleyes ring But most with murmur sigh God saue the King Now carefull Henry sends his seruant Bray To Stanly who accounts it safe to stay And dares not promise lest his haste should bring His sonne to death now pris'ner with the King About the same time Brakenbury came And thus to Stanley saith in Richards name My Lord the King salutes you and commands That to his ayde you bring your ready bands Or else he sweares by him that sits on high Before the armies ioyne your sonne shall die At this the Lord stood like a man that heares The Iudges voyce which condemnation beares Till gath'ring vp his spirits he replies My fellow Hastings death hath made me wise More then my dreame could him for I no more Will trust the tushes of the angry Bore If with my Georges bloud he staine his throne I thanke my God I haue more sonnes then one Yet to secure his life I quiet stand Against the King not lifting vp my hand The Messenger departs of hope deny'd Then noble Stanley taking Bray aside Saith Let my sonne proceede without despaire Assisted by his mothers almes and prayre God will direct both him and me to take Best courses for that blessed womans sake The Earle by this delay was not inclin'd To feare nor anger knowing Stanleyes mind But calling all his chiefe Commanders neare He boldly speakes while they attentiue heare 〈◊〉 is in vaine braue friends to shew the right â—hich we are forc'd to seeke by ciuill fight â—ur swords are brandisht in a noble cause â—o free your Country from a Tyrants iawes â—hat angry Planet What disastrous Signe â—irects Plantagenets afflicted Line â—h was it not enough that mutuall rage 〈◊〉 deadly battels should this race ingage â—ill by their blowes themselues they fewer make And pillers fall which France could neuer shake But must this crooked Monster now be found To lay rough hands on
measures erre not with a faulty line That all within be solid lest some blow Should by the sound the empty vessell show Ere he to gentle sleepe his eyes will lay His thoughts reuolue the actions of the day What houres from me with dull neglect haue runne What was in time or out of season done Why hath this worke adorning-beauty lackt Or reason wanted in another fact What things haue I forgotten why design'd To seeke those ends which better were declin'd When to the needy wretch I gaue reliefe Why was my broken soule possest with griefe In what haue my mistaking wishes err'd Why profit more then honesty preferr'd Could my sharpe words another man incense Or were my bookes compos'd to breed offence How comes it that corrupted nature-drawes My will from disciplines amending lawes Thus going slowly through his words and deeds He from one eu'ning to the next proceeds Peruerting crimes he checkes with angry frownes Straight leuell'd Vertues he rewards with Crownes Claudians Epigram of the old man of Verona THrice happy he whose age is spent vpon his owne The same house sees him old which him a child hath known He leanes vpon his staffe in sand where once he crept His mem'ry long descents of one poore cote hath kept He through the various strife of fortune neuer past Nor as a wand'ring guest would forraine waters taste He neuer fear'd the seas in trade nor sound of warres Nor in hoarse courts of law hath felt litigious iarres Vnskilfull in affaires he knowes no City neare So freely he enioyes the sight of heau'n more cleare The yeeres by seu'rall corne not Consuls he computes He notes the Spring by flowres and Autumne by the fruits One space put downe the Sunne and brings againe the rayes Thus by a certaine Orbe he measures out the dayes Remembring some great Oke from small beginning spred He sees the wood grow old which with himselfe was bred Verona next of Townes as farre as India seemes And for the ruddy Sea Benacus he esteemes Yet still his armes are firme his strength vntam'd and greene The full third age hath him a lusty Grandsire seene Let others trauaile farre and hidden coasts display This man hath more of life and those haue more of way Vpon the two great Feasts of the Annunciation and Resurrection falling on the same day March 25. 1627. THrice happy day which sweetly do'st combine Two Hemispheres in th'Equinoctiall line The one debasing God to earthly paine The other raising man to endlesse raigne Christs humble steps declining to the wombe Touch heau'nly scales erected on his Tombe We first with Gabriel must this Prince conuay Into his chamber on the marriage day Then with the other Angels cloth'd in white We will adore him in this conqu'ring Night The Sonue of God assuming humane breath Becomes a subiect to his vassall Death That Graues and Hell laid open by his strife May giue vs passage to a better life See for this worke how things are newly styl'd Man is declar'd Almighty God a Child The Word made Flesh is speechlesse and the Light Begins from Clouds and sets in depth of night Behold the Sunne eclips'd for many yeeres And eu'ry day more dusky robes he weares Till after totall darkenesse shining faire No Moone shall barre his splendor from the Aire Let faithfull soules this double Feast attend In two Processions let the first descend The Temples staires and with a downe-cast eye Vpon the lowest pauement prostrate lie In creeping Violets white Lillies shine Their humble thoughts and eu'ry pure designe The other troope shall climbe with sacred heate The rich degrees of Salomons bright seate In glowing Roses feruent zeale they beare And in the Azure Flowre de lis appeare Celestiall contemplations which aspire Aboue the skie vp to th' immortall Quire Of the Epiphany FAire Easterne Starre that art ordain'd to runne Before the Sages to the rising Sunne Here cease thy course and wonder that the cloud Of this poore Stable can thy Maker shroud Ye heauenly bodies glory to be bright And are esteem'd as ye are rich in light But here on earth is taught a diff'rent way Since vnder this low roofe the Highest lay Ierusalem erects her stately Towres Displayes her windowes and adornes her bowres Yet there thou must not cast a trembling sparke Let Herods Palace still continue darke Each Schoole and Synagogue thy force repels There pride enthron'd in misty errours dwels The Temple where the Priests maintaine their quite Shall taste no beame of thy Celestiall fire While this weake Cottage all thy splendor takes A ioyfull gate of eu'ry chinke it makes Here shines no golden roofe no Iu'ry staire No King exalted in a stately chaire Girt with attendants or by Heralds styl'd But straw and hay inwrap a speechlesse Child Yet Sabaes Lords before this Babe vnfold Their treasures off'ring Incense Myrrh and Gold The Cribbe becomes an Altar therefore dies No Oxe nor Sheepe for in their fodder lies The Prince of Peace who thankfull for his bed Destroyes those Rites in which their blood was shed The quintessence of earth he takes and fees And precious gummes distill'd from weeping trees Rich Metals and sweet Odours now declare The glorious blessings which his Lawes prepare To cleare vs from the base and lothsome flood Of sense and make vs fit for Angels food Who lift to God for vs the holy smoke Of feruent pray'rs with which we him inuoke And trie our actions in that searching fire By which the Seraphims our lips inspire No muddy drosse pure Min'ralls shall infect We shall exhale our vapours vp direct No stormes shall crosse nor glitt'ring lights deface Perpetuall sighes which seeke a happy place Of the Transfiguration of our Lord. YEe that in lowly valleyes weeping sate And taught your humble soules to mourne of laâ—â— For sinnes and suff'rings breeding griefes and feares And made the Riuers bigger with your teares Now cease your sad complaints till fitter time And with those three belou'd Apostles clime To lofty Thabor where your happy eyes Shall see the Sunne of glory brightly rise Draw neere and euer blesse that sacred hill That there no heate may parch no frost may kill The tender plants nor any thunder blast That top by which all mountaines are surpast By steepe and briery paths ye must ascend But if ye know to what high scope ye tend No let nor danger can your steps restraine The crags will easie seeme the thickets plaine Our Lord there stands not with his painefull Crosse Laid on his shoulders mouing you to losse Of precious things nor calling you to beare That burden which so much base worldlings feare Here are no promist hopes obscur'd with clouds No sorrow with dim vailes true pleasure shrowds But perfect Ioy which here discouer'd shines To taste of heauenly light your thoughts inclines And able is to weane deluded mindes From fond delight which wretched mortals blinds Yet let not sense so much your reason sway As to desire for euer
here to stay Refusing that sweet change which God prouides To those whom with his rod and staffe he guides Your happinesse consists not now alone In those high comforts which are often throwne In plenteous manner from our Sauiours hand To raise the fall'n and cause the weake to stand But ye are blest when being trodden downe Ye taste his Cup and weare his thorny Crowne On Ascension day YE that to heau'n direct your curious eyes And send your minds to walk the spacious skies See how the Maker to your selues you brings Who sets his noble markes on meanest things And hauing Man aboue the Angels plac'd The lowly Earth more then the Heau'n hath grac'd Poore Clay each Creature thy degrees admires First God in thee a liuing Soule inspires Whose glorious beames hath made thee farre mâ—â—â— bright Then is the Sunne the spring of corp'rall light He rests not here but to himselfe thee takes And thee diuine by wondrous vnion makes What Region can afford a worthy place For his exalted Flesh Heau'n is too base He scarce would touch it in his swift ascent The Orbes fled backe like Iordan as he went And yet he daign'd to dwell a while on earth As paying thankefull tribute for his birth But now this body all Gods workes excels And hath no place but God in whom it dwels An Ode of the blessed Trinitie MVse that art dull and weake Opprest with worldly paine If strength in thee remaine Of things diuine to speake Thy thoughts a while from vrgent eares restraine And with a cheareful voice thy wonted silence breake No cold shall thee benumme Nor darknesse taint thy sight To thee new heate new light Shall from this obiect come Whose praises if thou now wilt sound a right My pen shall giue thee leaue hereafter to be dumbe Whence shall we then begin To sing or write of this Where no beginning is Or if we enter in Where shall we end The end is endlesse blisse Thrice happy we if well so rich a thread we spinne For Thee our strings we touch Thou that are Three and One Whose essence though vnknowne Beleeu'd is to be such To whom what ere we giue we giue thine owne And yet no mortall tongue can giue to thee so much See how in vayne we trie To find some tipe t' agree With this great One in Three Yet can none such descrie If any like or second were to thee Thy hidden nature then were not so deepe and high Here faile inferiour things The Sunne whose heate and light Make creatures warme and bright A feeble shadow brings The Sunne shewes to the world his Fathers might With glorious raies froÌ„ both our fire the spirit spring Now to this toplesse hill Let vs ascend more neare Yet still within the Spheare Of our connat'rall skill We may behold how in our soules we beare An vnderstanding pow'r ioyn'd with effectuall will We can no higher goe To search this point diuine Here it doth chiefly shine This Image must it show These steppes as helpes our humble minds incline T' embrace those certaine grounds which from true Faith must flow To him these notes direct Who not with outward hands Nor by his strong commands Whence creatures take effect While perfectly himselfe he vnderstands Begets another selfe with equall glory deckt From these the Spring of loue The holy Ghost proceeds VVho our affection feeds VVith those cleare flames which moue From that eternall Essence which them breeds And strike into our soules as lightning from aboue Stay stay Parnassian Girle Heere thy descriptions faint Thou humane shapes canst paint And canst compare to Pearle VVhite teeth and speak of lips which Rubies taint Resembling beauteous eies to Orbs that swiftly whirle But now thou mayst perceiue The weakenesse of thy wings And that thy noblest strings To muddy obiects cleaue Then praise with humble silence heau'nly things And what is more then this to still deuotion leaue A Dialogue betweene the World a Pilgrim and Vertue Pilgrim WHat darknes clouds my senses Hath the day Forgot his season and the Sunne his way Doth God withdraw his all-sustaining might And works no more with his faire creature light While heau'n and earth for such a losse complaine And turne to rude vnformed heapes againe My paces with intangling briers are bound And all this forrest in deepe silence drownd Here must my labour and my iourney cease By which in vaine I sought for rest and peace But now perceiue that mans vnquiet mind In all his waies can onely darkenesse find Here must I starue and die vnlesse some light Point out the passage from this dismall night World Distressed Pilgrim let not causelesse feare Depresse thy hopes for thou hast comfort neare Which thy dull heart with splendor shall inspire And guide thee to thy period of desire Cleare vp thy browes and raise thy fainting eyes See how my glitt'ring Palace open lies For weary passengers whose desp'rate case I pitie and prouide a resting place Pilgrim O thou whose speeches sound whose beauties shine Not like a creature but some pow'r diuine Teach me thy stile thy worth and state declare VVhose glories in this desart hidden are World I am thine end Felicity my name The best of wishes Pleasures Riches Fame Are humble vassals which my Throne attend And make you mortals happy when I send In my left hand delicious fruits I hold To feede them who with mirth and ease grow old Afraid to lose the fleeting dayes and nights They seaze on times and spend it in delights My right hand with triumphant crownes is stor'd VVhich all the Kings of former times ador'd These gifts are thine then enter where no strife No griefe no paine shall interrupt thy life Vertue Stay hasty wretch here deadly Serpents dwell And thy next step is on the brinke of hell VVouldst thou poore weary man thy limbs repose Behold my house where true contentment growes Not like the baites which this seducer giues VVhose blisse a day whose torment euer liues World Regard not these vaine speeches let them goe This is a poore worme my contemned foe Bold thredbare Vertue who dare promise more From empty bags then I from all my store VVhose counsels make men draw vnquiet breath Expecting to be happy after death Vertue Canst thou now make or hast thou euer made Thy seruants happy in those things that fade Heare this my challenge one example bring Of such perfection let him be the King Of all the world fearing no outward check And guiding others by his voice or beck Yet shall this man at eu'ry moment find More gall then hony in his restlesse mind Now Monster since my words haue struck thee dumb Behold this Garland whence such vertues come Such glories shine such piercing beames are throwne As make thee blind and turne thee to a stone And thou whose wand'ring feet were running downe Th' infernall steepenesse looke vpon this Crowne Within these folds lie hidden no deceits No golden lures
If ought were found whereon they might depend Within the compasse of the gen'rall frame Or if some Sparkes of this Celestiall flame Had not ingrau'd this sentence in their brest In him that made them is their onely rest An Act of Hope SWeet Hope is soueraigne comfort of our life Our Ioy in sorrow and our Peace in strife The Dame of Beggers and the Queene of Kings Can these delight in height of prosp'rous things Without expecting still to keepe them sure Can those the weight of heauy wants endure Vnlesse perswasion instant paine allay Reseruing spirit for a better day Our God who planted in his creatures brest This stop on which the wheeles of passion rest Hath rays'd by beames of his abundant grace This strong affection to a higher place It is the second vertue which attends That soule whose motion to his sight ascends Rest here my mind thou shalt no longer stay To gaze vpon these houses made of clay Thou shalt not stoope to honours or to lands Nor golden balles where sliding fortune stands If no false colours draw thy steps amisse Thou hast a Palace of eternall blisse A Paradise from care and feare exempt An obiect worthy of the best attempt Who would not for so rich a Country fight Who would not runne that sees a goale so bright O thou who art our Author and our end On whose large mercy chaines of hope depend Lift me to thee by thy propitious hand For lower I can find no place to stand Of Teares BEhold what Riuers feeble nature spends And melts vs into Seas at losse of friends Their mortall state this Fountaine neuer dries But fills the world with worlds of weeping eies Man is a creature borne and nurst in teares He through his life the markes of sorrow beares And dying thinkes he can no off'ring haue More fit then teares distilling on his graue We must these floods to larger bounds extend Such streames require a high and noble end As waters in a chrystall Orbe contain'd Aboue the starry Firmament are chain'd To coole the fury of those raging flames Which eu'ry lower Spheare by motion frames So this continuall Spring within thy head Must quench the fires in other members bred If to our Lord our Parents had been true Our teares had been like drops of pleasing dew But sinne hath made them full of bitter paines Vntimely children of afflicted braines Yet they are chang'd when we our sinnes lament To richer Pearles then from the East are sent Of Sinne. WHat pensill shall I take or where begin To paint the vgly face of odious sinne Man sinning oft though pardon'd oft exceeds The falling Angels in malicious deeds When we in words would tell the sinners shame To call him Diuell is too faire a name Should we for euer in the Chaos dwell Or in the lothsome depth of gaping hell We there no foule and darksome formes shall find Sufficient to describe a guilty mind Search through the world we shall not know a thing Which may to reasons eye more horrour bring Then disobedience to the highest cause And obstinate auersion from his Lawes The sinner will destroy God if he can O what hath God deseru'd of thee poore man That thou should'st boldly striue to pull him downe From his high Throne and take away his Crowne What blindnesse moues thee to vnequall fight â—ee how thy fellow creatures scorne thy might Yet thou prouok'st thy Lord as much too great As thou too weake for his Imperiall seate Behold a silly wretch distracted quite Extending towards God his feeble spite And by his poys'nous breath his hopes are faire To blast the skies as it corrupts the aire Vpon the other side thou mayst perceiue A mild Commander to whose Army cleaue The sparkling Starres and each of them desires To fall and drowne this Rebell in their fires The Cloudes are ready this proud Foe to tame Full fraught with thunderbolts and lightnings flame The Earth his Mother greedy of his doome Expects to open her vnhappy wombe That this degen'rate sonne may liue no more So chang'd from that pure man whom first she bore The sauage Beasts whose names his Father gaue To quell this pride their Makers licence craue The Fiends his Masters in this warlike way Make sute to seaze him as their lawfull prey No friends are left then whither shall he flie To that offended King who sits on high Who hath deferr'd the battell and restrain'd His souldiers like the winds in fetters chain'd For let the Sinner leaue his hideous maske God will as soone forgiue as he shall aske Of the miserable state of Man IS man the best of creatures growne the worst He once most blessed was now most accurst His whole felicity is endlesse strife No peace no satisfaction crownes his life No such delight as other creatures take Which their desires can free and happy make Our appetites which seeke for pleasing good Haue oft their wane and full their ebbe and sloud Their calme and stormes the neuer-constant Moone The Seas and nimble winds not halfe so soone Incline to change while all our pleasure rests In things which vary like our wau'ring brests He who desires that wealth his life may blesse Like to a Iayler counts it good successe To haue more pris'ners which increase his care The more his goods the more his dangers are This Sayler sees his ship about to drowne And he takes in more wares to presse it downe Vaine honour is a play of diuers parts Where fained words and gestures please our hearts The slatt'red audience are the Actors friends But lose that Title when the Fable ends The faire desire that others should behold Their clay well featur'd their well temperd mould Ambitious mortals make their chiefe pretence To be the obiects of delighted sense Yet oft the shape and hue of basest things More admiration moues more pleasure brings Why should we glory to be counted strong This is the praise of Beasts the pow'r of wrong And if the strength of many were inclos'd Within one brest yet when it is oppos'd Against that force which Art or Nature frame It melts like waxe before the scorching flame VVe cannot in these outward things be blest For we are sure to lose them and the best Of these contentments no such comfort beares As may waigh equall with the doubts and feares VVhich fixe our minds on that vncertaine day When these shall faile most certaine to decay From length of life no happinesse can come But what the guilty feele who after doome Are to the lothsome prison sent againe And there must stay to die with longer paine No earthly gift lasts after death but Fame This gouernes men more carefull of their name Then of their soules which their vngodly taste Dissolues to nothing and shall proue at last Faire worse then nothing Prayses come too late When man is not or is in wretched state But these are ends which draw the meanest hearts Let vs search
deepe and trie our better parts O knowledge if a heau'n on earth could be I would expect to reape that blisse in thee But thou art blind and they that haue thy light More clearely know they liue in darksome night See man thy stripes at schoole thy paines abroad Thy watching and thy palenesse well bestow'd These feeble helpes can Scholers neuer bring To perfect knowledge of the plainest thing And some to such a height of learning grow They die perswaded that they nothing know In vaine swift houres spent in deepe study slide Vnlesse the purchast doctrine curbe our pride The soule perswaded that no fading loue Can equall her imbraces seekes aboue And now aspiring to a higher place Is glad that all her comforts here are base Of Sicknesse THe end of Sicknesse Health or Death declare The cause as happy as the sequels are Vaine mortals while they striue their sense to please Endure a life worse then the worst disease When sports and ryots of the restlesse night Breede dayes as thicke possest with fenny light 〈◊〉 oft haue these compell'd by wholsome paine Return'd to sucke sweet Natures brest againe And then could in a narrow compasse find Strength for the body clearenesse in the mind And if Death come it is not he whose dart VVhose scalpe and bones afflict the trembling heart As if the Painters with new art would striue For feare of Bugs to keepe poore men aliue But one who from thy mothers wombe hath been Thy friend and strict companion though vnseene To leade thee in the right appointed way And crowne thy labours at the conqu'ring day Vngratefull men why doe you sicknesse loath VVhich blessings giue in Heau'n or Earth or both Of true Liberty HE that from dust of worldly tumults flies May boldly open his vndazled eyes To reade wise Natures booke and with delight Surueyes the Plants by day and starres by night We need not trauaile seeking wayes to blisse He that desires contentment cannot misse No garden walles this precious flowre imbrace It common growes in eu'ry desart place Large scope of pleasure drownes vs like a flood To rest in little is our greatest good Learne ye that clime the top of Fortunes wheele That dang'rous state which ye disdaine to feele Your highnesse puts your happinesse to flight Your inward comforts fade with outward light Vnlesse it be a blessing not to know This certaine truth left ye should pine for woe To see inferiours so diuinely blest With freedome and your selues with fetters prest Ye sit like pris'ners barr'd with doores and chaines And yet no care perpetuall care restraines Ye striue to mixe your sad conceits with ioyes By curious pictures and by glitt'ring toyes While others are not hind'red from their ends Delighting to conuerse with bookes or friends And liuing thus retir'd obtaine the pow'r To reigne as Kings of euery sliding houre They walke by Cynthiaes light and lift their eyes To view the ord'red armies in the skies The heau'ns they measure with imagin'd lines And when the Northerne Hemisphere declines New constellations in the South they find Whose rising may refresh the studious mind In these delights though freedome shew more high Few can to things aboue their thoughts apply But who is he that cannot cast his looke On earth and reade the beauty of that booke A bed of smiling flow'rs a trickling Spring A swelling Riuer more contentment bring Then can be shadow'd by the best of Art Thus still the poore man hath the better part Against inordinate loue of Creatures AH who would loue a creature who would place His heart his treasure in a thing so base Which time consuming like a Moth destroyes And stealing death will rob him of his ioyes Why life we not our minds aboue this dust Haue we not yet perceiu'd that God is iust And hath ordain'd the obiects of our loue To be our scourges when we wanton proue Go carelesse man in vaine delights proceed Thy fansies and thine outward senses feede And bind thy selfe thy fellow-seruants thrall Loue one too much thou art a slaue to all Consider when thou follow'st seeming good And drown'st thy selfe too deepe in flein and blood Thou making sute to dwell with woes and feares Art sworne their souldier in the vale of teares The bread of sorrow shall be thy repast Expect not Eden in a thorny waste Where grow no faire trees no smooth riuers swell Here onely losses and afflictions dwell These thou bewayl'st with a repining voyce Yet knew'st before that mortall was thy choyse Admirers of false pleasures must sustaine The waight and sharpenesse of insuing paine Against abused Loue. SHall I stand still and see the world on fire While wanton Writers ioyne in one desire To blow the coales of Loue and make them burne Till they consume or to the Chaos turne This beautious frame by them so foully rent That wise men feare lest they those flames preuent Which for the latest day th' Almightie keepes In orbes of fire or in the hellish deepes Best wits while they possest with fury thinke They taste the Muses sober Well and drinke Of Phabus Goblet now a starry signe Mistake the Cup and write in heat of wine Then let my cold hand here some water cast And drown their warmth with drops of sweeter taste Mine angry lines shall whip the purblind Page And some will reade them in a chaster age But since true loue is most diuine I know How can I fight with loue and call it so Is it not Loue It was not now O strange Time and ill custome workers of all change Haue made it loue men oft impose not names By Adams rule but what their passion frames And since our Childhood taught vs to approue Our Fathers words we yeeld and call it loue Examples of past times our deeds should sway But we must speake the language of to day Vse hath no bounds it may prophane once more The name of God which first an Idoll bore How many titles fit for meaner groomes Are knighted now and marshal d in high roomes And many which once good and great were thought Posterity to vice and basenesse brought As it hath this of loue and we must bow As States vsurping Tyrants raignes allow And after ages reckon by their yeeres Such force Possession though iniurious beares Or as a wrongfull title or foule crime Made lawfull by a Statute for the time With reu'rend estimation blindes our eies And is call'd iust in spight of all the wise Then heau'nly loue this loathed name forsake And some of thy more glorious titles take Sunne of the Soule cleare beauty liuing fire Celestiall light which dost pure hearts inspire While Lust thy Bastard brother shal be knowne By loues wrong'd name that Louers may him owne So oft with Hereticks such tearmes we vse As they can brooke not such as we would chuse And since he takes the throne of Loue exil'd In all our Letters he shall Loue be stil'd But if true
gone and now though much beneath His Coronet is next th' Imperiall Wreath No richer signe his flowry Garland drown's Which shines alone aboue the lesser Crownes This thou inioyd'st as sicke men tedious houres And thought'st of brighter Pearles and fairer flowres And higher Crownes which heau'n for thee reserues When this thy worldly pompe decayes and starues This sacred seruour in thy mind did glow And though supprest with outward state and show Yet at thy death those hind'ring clouds it clear'd And like the lost Sunne to the world appear'd Euen as a strong fire vnder ashes turn'd Which with more force long secretly hath burn'd Breakes forth to be the obiect of our sight Aimes at the Orbe and ioynes his flame with light Vpon his Noble Friend Sir William Skipwith TO frame a man who in those gifts excels Which makes the Country happy where hee dwels We first conceiue what names his Line adorne It kindles vertue to be nobly borne This picture of true Gentry must be grac'd With glitt'ring Iewels round about him plac'd A comely body and a beauteous mind A heart to loue a hand to giue inclin'd A house as free and open as the Ayre A tongue which ioyes in Language sweet and faire Yet can when need requires with courage bold To publike eares his neighbours griefes vnfold All these we neuer more shall find in one And yet all these are clos'd within this stone An Epitaph vpon my deare Brother Francis Beaumont ON Death thy Murd'rer this reuenge I take I slight his terror and iust question make Which of vs two the best precedence haue Mine to this wretched world thine to the graue Thou shouldst haue followd me but death too blame Miscounted yeeres and measur'd age by Fame So dearely hast thou bought thy precious lines Their praise grew swiftly so thy life declines Thy Muse the hearers Queene the Readers loue All eares all hearts but Deaths could please and moue Of my deare Sonne Geruase Beaumont CAn I who haue for others oft compil'd The Songs of Death forget my sweetest child VVhich like a flow'r crusht with a blast is dead And ere full time hangs downe his smiling head Expecting with cleare hope to liue anew Among the Angels fed with heau'nly dew We haue this signe of Ioy that many dayes While on the earth his struggling spirit stayes The name of Iesus in his mouth containes His onely food his sleepe his ease from paines O may that sound be rooted in my mind Of which in him such strong effect I find Deare Lord receiue my Sonne whose winning loue To me was like a friendship farre aboue The course of nature or his tender age Whose lookes could all my bitter griefes asswage Let his pure soule ordain'd seu'n yeeres to be In that fraile body which was part of me Remaine my pledge in heau'n as sent to shew How to this Port at eu'ry step I goe Teares for the death of the truly Honourable the Lord Chandos LEt him whose lines a priuate losse deplore Call them to weepe that neuer wept before My griefe is more audacious giue me one Who eu'ry day hath heard a dying grone The subiect of my verses may suffice To draw new teares from dry and weary eyes We dare not loue a man nor pleasure take In others worth for noble Chandos sake And when we seeke the best with reasons light We feare to wish him longer in our sight Time had increast his vertue and our woe For sorrow gathers weight by comming slow Should him the God of life to life restore Againe we lose him and lament the more If Mortals could a thousand liues renew They were but shades of death which must insue Our gracious God hath fitter bounds assign'd And earthly paines to one short life confin'd Yet when his hand hath quench'd the vitall flame It leaues some cinders of immortall fame At these we blow and like Prometheus striue By such weake sparkes to make dead clay aliue Breath flyes to ayre the body falls to ground And nothing dwels with vs but mournfull sound O might his honor'd Name liue in my Song Reflected as with Ecchoes shrill and strong But when my lines of glorious obiects treate They should rise high because the worke is great No Quill can paint this Lord vnlesse it haue Some tincture from his actions free and braue Yet from this height I must descend againe And like the calme Sea lay my Verses plaine When I describe the smoothnesse of his mind Where reasons chaines rebellious passions bind My Poem must in harmony excell His sweet behauiour and discourse to tell It should be deepe and full of many Arts To teach his wisdome and his happy parts But since I want these graces and despaire To make my Picture like the patterne faire These hasty strokes vnperfect draughts shall stand Expecting life from some more skilfull hand Vpon the vntimely death of the Honourable hopâ—full young Gentleman Edward Stafford Sonne and Heire to the Lord Stafford DEad is the hope of Stafford in whose line So many Dukes and Earles and Barons shine And from this Edwards death his kinred drawes More griefe then mighty Edwards fall could cause For to this House his vertue promist more Then all those great Ones that had gone before No lofty titles can securely frame The happinesse and glory of a Name Bright honours at the point of Noone decay And feele a sad declining like the day But he that from the race of Kings is borne And can their mem'ries with his worth adorne Is farre more blest then those of whom he springs He from aboue the soule of goodnesse brings T' inspire the body of his Noble birth This makes it moue before but liuelesse earth Of such I write who show'd he would haue been Complete in action but we lost him greene We onely saw him crown'd with flowres of hope O that the fruits had giu'n me larger scope And yet the bloomes which on his Herse we strow Surpasse the Cherries and the Grapes that grow In others Gardens Here fresh Roses lie Whose ruddy blushes modest thoughts descry In Flowre-de-luces dide with azure hue His constant loue to heau'nly things we view The spotlesse Lillies shew his pure intent The flaming Marigold his zeale present The purple Violets his Noble minde Degen'rate neuer from his Princely kind And last of all the Hyacinths we throw In which are writ the letters of our woe To the Memory of the Learned and Religious Ferdinando Pulton Esquire AS at a ioyfull Marriage or the birth Of some long wished child or when the earth Yeelds plenteous fruit and makes the Ploughman sing Such is the sound and subiect of my string Ripe age full vertue need no fun'rall Song Here mournefull tunes would Grace Nature wrong VVhy should vaine sorrow follow him with teares VVho shakes off burdens of declining yeeres VVhose thread exceeds the vsuall bounds of life And feeles no stroke of any fatall knife The Destinies enioyne their
whose walls VVere made of clay his whole ambition falls Into a graue death onely can declare How base the bodies of all mortals are The lying Greekes perswade vs not to doubt That Persian Nauies sailed round about The Mountaine Athos seuer'd from the Maine Such stuffe their fabulous reports containe They tell vs what a passage framed was Of ships that wheeles on solid Seas might passe That deepest Riuers failed we must thinke VVhose Floods the Medians at one meale could drink And must beleeue such other wond'rous things VVhich Sostratus relates with moyst'ned wings But that great King of whom these tales they frame Tell me how backe from Salamis he came That barb'rous Prince who vs'd to whip the VVinds Not suff'ring strokes when Aeolus them binds He who proud Neptune in his fetters chain'd And thought his rage by mildnesse much restrain'd Because he did not brand him for his slaue VVhich of the Gods would such a Master haue But how return'd he with one slender bote VVhich through the bloody waues did slowly flote Oft stay'd with heapes of carkases these paines He as the fruits of long-wisht glory gaines Giue length of life O Ioue giue many yeeres Thou prayst with vpright count'nance pale with feares Not to be heard yet long old age complaines Of great continuall griefes which it containes As first a foule and a deformed face Vnlike it selfe a rugged hide in place Of softer skin loose cheekes and wrinkles made As large as those which in the wooddy shade Of spacious Tabraca the mother Ape Deepe furrow'd in her aged chaps doth scrape Great diff'rence is in persons that be young Some are more beautifull and some more strong Then others but in each old man we see The same aspect his trembling limbes agree With shaking voyce and thou may'st adde to those A bald head and a childish dropping nose The wretched man when to this state he comes Must breake his hard bread with vnarmed gummes So lothsome that his children and his wife Grow weary of him he of his owne life And Cossus hardly can his sight sustaine Though wont to flatter dying men for gaine Now his benummed palate cannot taste His meate or drinke the pleasures now are past Of sensuall lust yet he in buried fires Retaines vnable and vnfit desires What ioy can musicke to his hearing bring Though best Musicians yea Seleucus sing Who purchase golden raiments by their voyce In Theaters he needs not make his choice Of place to sit since that his deaf'ned eare Can scarce the Corners and the Trumpets heare His Boy must cry aloud to let him know Who comes to see him how the time doth goe A Feuer onely heates his wasted blood In eu'ry part assaulted with a flood Of all diseases if their names thou aske Thou mayst as well appoint me for a taske To tell what close adulterers Hippia loues How many sick-men Themison remoues Out of this world within one Autumnes date How many poore confederates of our State Haue been by griping Basilus distrest How many Orphanes Irus hath opprest To what possessions he is now preferr'd Who in my youth scorn'd not to cut my beard Some feeble are in shoulders loynes or thighes Another is depriu'd of both his eyes And enuies those as happy that haue one This man too weake to take his meate alone With his pale lips must feede at others hands While he according to his custome stands With gaping iawes like to the Swallowes brood To whom their hungry mother carries food In her full mouth yet worse in him we find Then these defects in limbes a doting mind He cannot his owne seruants names recite Nor know his friend with whom he supt last night Not those he got and bred with cruell spots Out of his will his doubtlesse heires he blots And all his goods to Phialè bequeathes So sweet to him a common Strumpet breathes But if his senses should not thus be spent His childrens fun'ralls he must oft lament He his deare wiues and brothers death bemones And sees the vrnes full of his sisters bones Those that liue long endure this lingring paine That oft they find new causes to complaine While they mishaps in their owne house behold In woes and mournefull garments growing old The Pylian King as Homers verses show In length of life came nearest to the Crow Thou thinkst him blest whom death so long forbeares Who on his right hand now accounts his yeeres By hundreds with an ancient num'rall signe And hath the fortune oft to drinke new wine But now obserue how much he blames the law Of Fates because too large a thread they draw When to Antilochus last Rites he came And saw his beard blaze in the fun'rall flame Then with demands to those that present are He thus his gre'uous mis'ry doth declare VVhy should I last thus long what hainous crime Hath made me worthy of such spatious time Like voyces Peleus vs'd when he bewail'd Achilles whom vntimely death assail'd And sad Laertes who had cause to weepe For his Vlisses swimming on the deepe When Troy was safe then Priam might haue gone With stately Exequies and solemne mone T' accompany Assaracus his ghost His fun'rall Herse enricht with Princely cost VVhich Hector with his other brothers beares Amidst the flood of Ilian womens teares VVhen first Cassandra practis'd to lament And faire Polyxâ—na with garments rent If he had dy'd ere Paris plac'd his sayles In ventrous ships see what long age auailes This caus'd him to behold his ruin'd Towne The swords and fiers which conquer'd Asia drowne Then he a trembling souldier off doth cast His Diademe takes armour but at last Falls at Ioues Altar like an Oxe decai'd VVhose pittifull thinne necke is prostrate laid To his hard Masters knife disdained now Because not fit to draw th' vngratefull plow Yet dy'd he humane death but his curst wife Bark't like a Dog remaining still in life To our examples willingly I haste And therefore Mithridates haue orepast And Croesus whom iust Solon bids t' attend And not to iudge men happy till the end This is the cause that banisht Marius flies That he imprison'd is and that he lies In close Minturnaes Fennes to hide his head And neere to conquer'd Carthage begs his bread VVise nature had not fram'd nor Rome brought forth A Citizen more Noble for his worth If hauing to the view his captiues led And all his warlike pompe in glory spred Then his triumphant soule he forth had sent VVhen from his Cimbrian Chariot downe he went Campania did for Pompeyes good prouide Strong Feuers which if he had then espy'd What would ensue were much to be desir'd But many Cities publike vowes conspir'd And this so happy sicknesse could deface Reseruing him to dye with more disgrace Romes and his fortune onely sau'd his head To be cut off when ouercom'n he fled This paine the Traytor Lentulus doth scape Cethegus not disfigur'd in his shape Enioying all his limbes vnmaimed lyes And
The custome is to spread abroad VVhite linnens grac'd with splendour pure Sabaean Myrrh on bodies strow'd Preserues them from decay secure The hollow stones by Caruers wrought VVhich in faire monuments are laid Declare that pledges thither brought Are not to death but sleepe conuay'd The pious Christians this ordaine Beleeuing with a prudent eye That those shall rise and liue againe Who now in freezing slumbers lye He that the dead disperst in fields In pittie hides with heapes of molds To his Almighty Sauiour yeelds A worke which he with ioy beholds The same Law warnes vs all to grone VVhom one seuere condition ties And in anothers death to mone All Fun'rals as of our Allies That Reu'rend man in goodnesse bred VVho blest Tobias did beget Preferr'd the buriall of the dead Before his meate though ready set He while the seruants waiting stand Forsakes the cups the dishes leaues And digges a graue with speedy hand Which with the bones his teares receiues Rewards from heau'n this worke requite No slender price is here repaid God cleares the eyes that saw no light While Fishes gall on them is laid Then the Creator would descry How farre from reason they are led VVho sharpe and bitter things apply To soules on which new light is spred He also taught that to no wight The heau'nly Kingdome can be seene Till vext with wounds and darksome night He in the worlds rough waues hath been The curse of death a blessing finds Because by this tormenting woe Steepe waies lye plaine to spotlesse minds VVho to the Starres by sorrowes goe The bodies which long perisht lay Returne to liue in better yeeres That vnion neuer shall decay VVhere after death new warmth appeares The face where now pale colour dwels VVhence foule infection shall arise The flowres in splendour then excels VVhen blood the skinne with beauty dies No age by Times imperious law With enuious prints the forehead dimmes No drought no leanenesse then can draw The moysture from the wither'd limmes Diseases which the body eate Infected with oppressing paines In midst of torments then shall sweate Imprison'd in a thousand chaines The conqu'ring flesh immortall growes Beholding from the skies aboue The endlesse groning of her foes For sorrowes which from them did moue VVhy are vndecent howlings mixt By liuing men in such a case VVhy are decrees so sweetly fixt Reprou'd with discontented face Let all complaints and murmurs faile Ye tender mothers stay your teares Let none their children deare bewaile For life renew'd in death appeares So buried seeds though dry and dead Againe with smiling greenenesse spring And from the hollow furrowes bred Attempt new eares of corne to bring Earth take this man with kind embrace In thy soft bosome him conceiue For humane members here I place And gen'rous parts in trust I leaue This house the soule her guest once felt VVhich from the Makers mouth proceeds Here sometime feruent wisdome dwelt VVhich Christ the Prince of VVisedome breeds A cou'ring for this body make The Author neuer will forget His workes nor will those lookes forsake In which he hath his Picture set For when the course of time is past And all our hopes fulfill'd shall be Thou op'ning must restore at last The limbes in shape which now we see Nor if long age with pow'rfull reigne Shall turne the bones to scatter'd dust And onely ashes shall retaine In compasse of a handfull thrust Nor if swift Floods or strong command Of VVindes through empty Ayre haue tost The members with the flying Sand Yet man is neuer fully lost O God while mortall bodies are Recall'd by thee and form'd againe VVhat happy seate wilt thou prepare VVhere spotlesse soules may safe remaine In Abrahams bosome they shall lie Like Lazarus whose flowry Crowne The rich man doth farre off espie While him sharpe fiery torments drowne Thy words O Sauiour we respect Whose triumph driues black Death to losse When in thy steps thou would'st direct The Thiefe thy fellow on the Crosse The faithfull see a shining way Whose length to Paradise extends This can them to those trees conuay Lost by the Serpents cunning ends To Thee I pray most certaine Guide O let this soule which thee obay'd In her faire birth-place pure abide From which she banisht long hath stray'd While we vpon the couer'd bones Sweet violets and leaues will throw The title and the cold hard stones Shall with our liquid odours flow FINIS