Thief Her hair a net of beams would prove Strong enough to imprison Jove Drest in his Eagles shape her brow Is a spacious field of snow Her eyes so rich so pure a gray Every look creates a day And if they close themselves not when The Sun doth set 't is night agen In her cheecks are to be seen Of flowers both the King and Queen Thither by all the Graces led And smiling in their nuptial bed On whom like pretty Nymphs do wait Her twin-born lips whose Virgin state They do deplore themselves nor misse To blush so often as they kisse Without a Man Beside the rest You shall know this fellon best By her tongue for when your ear Once a harmonie shall hear So ravishing you do not know Whether you be in heaven or no That that is she O straight surprize And bring her unto Loves Assize But lose no time for fear that she Ruine all mankind like me Fate and Philosophy controul And leave the world without a soul Goodnight BId me no more goodnight because 'T is dark must I away Love doth acknowledge no such Lawes And Love 't is I obey Which blind doth all your light despise And hath no need of eyes When day is fled Besides the Sun which you Complain is gone 't is true Is gone to bed Oh let us do so too WOuld you know what 's soft I dare Remit you to the Down or Ayre The Stars we all acknowledge bright The Snow too is exceeding white To please your sent 't will not be hard To present you bruised Nard And would you heavenly musick hear I 'le call the Orbes to take your ear If old Pythagoras sing true But Ambrosia heavenly dew Divinely must affect your taste And Nectar is your drink at last But would you have all these delights in one Know but the fair Odelia and 't is done A Fayring A Fayring if you ask I will next day Bestow upon you the new puppet play The children made in wax I dare not try For I confesse the modells at your eye Will melt themselves away and then you know The man will be undone and lose his show What monsters would you see I le bring a man Has been in France or Italy that can Play his deformities with all the fair Wee 'l for the Cloysters where the pictures are The King and Queens the Princes all the babies The paper Lords and all the painted Ladies The men of ginger-bread what art can do You shall see Canibals will eat them too Wee 'l to the horse that dances and 't is said Tells money and which Virgin is a maid This beast must be an understanding creature For he will snort you by instinct of nature If you but name the Pope there 's somthing in 't That a wall eye should read Geneva print These are but half the knacks wee 'l see and buy If you will walk into the Fayr with me But you are angry Mistris troth I meant A jest in answer of your merriment For sure you cannot mean with hope to gain That gift from me is worth your entertain For whatsoever is not I must be Trifles and empty things bestow'd on thee And you may thank your beauty for 't I am So poor I have not left my self a name Or substance not translated thine before He that bestow'd his heart can give no more If thou wilt have a Fayring from me then Give my self back I le give it thee agen To L. for a wreath of Bayes sent SOul of my Muse what active unknown fire Already doth thy Delphick wreath inspire O' th sudden how my faculties swell high And I am all a powerful Prophesie Sleep ye dull Caesars Rome will boast in vain Your glorious Tryumphs One is in my brain Great as all yours and circled with thy Bayes My thoughts take Empire o're all land and seas Proof against all the Planets and the stroke Of Thunder I rise up Augustus Oake Within my guard of Laurel and made free From age look fresh still as my Daphnean Tree My Fancie's narrow yet till I create For thee another world and in a state As free as Innocence shame all Poets wit To climb no higher then Elizium yet Where the pale lovers meet and teach the groves To sigh and sing vain legends of their loves We will have other flights and raste such things Are onely fit for Sainted Queens and Kings Musaeus Homer and ye sacred rest Long since beleev'd in your own ashes blest Awake and live again and having wrote Our story wish your other songs forgot And your selves too but our high Subject must In spite of death and time new soul your dust What cannot I command what can a thought Be now ambitious of but shall be brought By vertue of my charme I will undo The yeer and at my pleasure make one new All Spring whose blooming Paradise but when I list shall with one frown wither agen Astrologers leave searching the vast skies Teach them all fate Odelia from thine eyes All that was earth resolves my spirit 's free I have nothing left now but my Soul and Thee To the Painter preparing to draw M. M. H. BE not too forward Painter 't is More for thy fame and art to misse All other faces then come neer The Lady that expecteth here Be wise and think it lesse disgrace To draw an Angel then her face For in such formes who is so wise To tell thee where thy error lies But since all beauty that is known Is in her Virgin sweetnes One How can it be that painting her But every look should make thee erre But thou art resolute I see Yet let my fancy walk with thee Compose a ground more dark and sad Then that the early Chaos had And shew to the whole Sexes shame Beauty was darknes till she came Then paint her eyes whose active light Shall make the former shadows bright And with their every beam supply New day to draw her picture by Now if thou wilt compleat the face A wonder paint in every place Beneath these for her fair necks sake White as the Paphian Turtles make A pillar whose smooth base doth show It self lost in a mount of snow Her brest the house of chast desire Cold but increasing others fire But how I lose instructing thee Thy pencil and my Poetry For when thou hast exprest all art As high as truth in every part She can resemble at the best One in her beauties silence drest Where thou like a dull looker on Art lost and all thy art undone For if she speak new wonders rise From her teeth chin lip and eyes So far above that excellent Did take thee first thou wo't repent To have begun and lose i' th' end Thy eyes with wonder how to mend At such a losse here 's all thy choice Leave off or paint her with a voice To a L. who had courted a Lady of much perfection and after offered his Service to
misse no stars here I did spy Two gliding by 2. Did not thy trembling sence mistake the shine Which from the flaming marriage Pine Shot like divine 1. No no oh no within his stock of light Hymen was never half so bright 2. Behold the Nuptial Train Come smiling back again Hymen hold up thy Torch 1. Now now I see The Virgin Bride fair Willoughby From whose fair eyes This day did rise 2. Whilst her chast blushing strowes Fresh Roses on the morning as she goes 1. What Musick have they 2. None But what 's the Bridegroomes owne See where he follows to supply All that a well tun'd ear Can wish to hear Being himself a walking Harmony Chorus HEaven on this Payr drop all the joyes Of Love Health Fortune Pleasure Boyes A Mother hearing her child was sick of the Small-Poxe WHat hath my pretty child misdone That heaven so soon As if it did repent The sweetnes it had lent Making so many graves mistook the place And buryed all her beauty in her face But it foresaw if she remain'd Fresh and unstain'd So blooming in each part She might take every heart Charme all the Muses to forget their verse Or name no beauty in their song but hers But this is still my sorrow child With which turn'd wild I send my tears to seek And bathe thy withered cheek Which could my kisses reach with warm supplies I would leave thee no spots or me no eyes Epithalamium To his Noble Friend Mr. I. W. ADorn the Altar many come to day To sacrifice But first upon 't let me presume to lay My grain of Spice 'T is all I have though others bring Rich gifts mine is the offering Live one in heart so long till time forget You have been two Upon your bosomes Joyes more frequent sit Then Pearls of dew On the green check of earth but may No Sun kisse one of these away Plenty your Tables chast desires still meet To crown your beds And may the Bridegroom the first night beget New Maidenheads I could say more but Verse is tyed Wild Joyes in Prose are best supply'd A Catch COme let us throw the dice who shall drink Mine is ⚅ ⚅ and his ⚅ ⚄ ⚅ and ⚃ is a cast ⚅ and ⚂ not too fast Come aloft ⚄ ⚂ ⚅ ⚀ fair Play ⚃ ⚠is your throw sir ⚃ ⚀ they run low sir ⚠⚠we see ⚠⚀ is but three Oh where is the Wine come fill up his glasse For here is the man that has thrown ⚀ ⚀ On a black Ribband THough Love and Honour take a pride to dresse Their servants in these silken liveries But choose the colours alwaies gay and bright Excluding black as the dark child of night Which constant to its own complexion knows Not how to blush nor one Indulgence owes Either to Beauty or the gift of Kings This Jealousie and that vexation brings Give me the black embracement on my arme Which like a potent Amulet or Charme Shall countermand all Magick and defie The smiles of love and snares of Majesty Of this I 'le be more proud then when the fair Odelia once gave me her wreath of hair Wherin her fingers taught by love had wrought A Net to catch and hold each subtle thought This mourning bracelet is to me above All Ribbands which the Robinhoods of love Are trickt withall who but present at Court Which are the Race-nags for the Ladies sport Give me that sable Ornament that may Vye honour with the Nova Scotia Or Crimson Bath and still reserv'd to'th' King My reverence who is the soul and spring Of English Honour for the Garters sake I should not mourn although the blue were black And 't is within his brest when Charles will please To create one of black to outshine these For what bold Antiquaries will deny Of Colours Sable the first Heraldry All Orders have their growth and this when sent To me had somthing that was glorious meant From One whose blood writes noble but his mind And souls extraction leave that stream behind And this who knowes in calmer time may thrive And grow into a Name if Arts survive Till when to this black Arme-let it shall be My Honour to be call'd a Votary To Gent. that broke their promise of a meeting made when they drank Claret THere is no Faith in Claret and it shall Henceforth with me be held Apocryphal I le trust a small-beer promise nay a Troth Wash'd in the Thames before a french wine oath That Grape they say is binding yes 't is so And it has made your souls thus costive too Circe transform'd the Greeks no hard designe For some can do as much with Claret wine Upon themselves witnes you two allow'd Once honest now turn'd Ayre and A-la-mode Begin no health in this or if by chance The Kings 't will question your allegiance And men will after all your rufling say You drink as some do fight in the French way Engage and trouble many when 't is known You spread their interest to wave your owne Away with this false Christian it shall be An excommunicate from mirth and me Give me the Catholique diviner flame To light me to the fair Odelias Name 'T is Sack that justifies both man and verse Whilst you in Lethe-Claret still converse Forget your owne names next and when you look With hope to find be lost in the Church-book Vpon a Gentlewoman that died of a Fever DEath time and sicknes had been many a day Conspiring this sweet Virgin to betray At last impatient vow'd e're the next Sun To finish what their malice had begun Sicknes went slowly on but time apace Death lag'd behind by night all reacht the place But when resolv'd of a surprize they came They found her guarded by a holy flame Her waking Fever kept this did affright The theeves who are still fearful of the light Time stayes without but sicknes by the sin Of bribing a false servant was let in Death follow'd the advantage and did creep Into her chamber where though in her sleep Sicknes faint-hearted could not stop her breath But she soon found the Icie hand of death Her grone awak'd some friends and the maid kild With sighes and clamors all the ayre was fill'd Fearing a swift pursuite Time ran away Sicknes no longer had the heart to stay Death with his prey soon hid him under ground Not since by any living creature found Vpon the death of G. M. I Lov'd him and I lost him too then why Should others weep their farewel and not I If souls know more by being body free He 'l know from all the rest these drops from me Then flow apace I see where store of rain Is met and swoln it self into a Main Go lose your selves in that it cannot be In vain to add some water to the Sea Since heaven whose glorious Constellations are So many hath yet took another Star If any think my grief has but a face Of mourning and my tears a
this nor those are half so rich so fair As these two silken Ribbands are Favours Juno might have given The Graces on her wedding day in heaven Mysterious Colours carrying more then show For you expresse in your rich dye Rare vertues which the givers owe Constant love and modesty To which when I prove false my blood be curst To satisfie the injur'd first Shame be next reward and then I forfeit Blush and Scarlet back agen To his Mistris upon the Bayes withered FAir Cruel see the Bayes which thou Didst send to crown my verse How well with Cypresse and sad Ewe Would it become my herse 'T is thy unkindnes that doth kill The leaves which fade like me Yet on the wreath but cast a smile 'T will seem another Tree Such shine will quicken what is dead Then send it me agen Which shall have vertue on my head To make the wearer green Thus in a frost I 'le meet a flame And Phoebus Priest am made And Thee I growing fresh will name My Nymph my light my shade Strephon Daphne S. COme my Daphne come away We do waste the Crystal day 'T is Strephon calls Da. What would my love S. Come follow to the Mirtle grove Where Venus shall prepare New chaplets for thy hair D. Were I shut up within a tree I de rend my bark to follow thee S My shepherdesse make haste The minutes slide too fast D. In those cooler shades will I Blind as Cupid kisse thine eye S. In thy perfumed bosome then I le stray In such warm snow who would not lose his way Chor. WEe 'l laugh and leave this world behind And gods themselves that see Shall envie thee and me But never find Such joyes when they embrace a Deity Taking leave when his Mistris was to ride HOw is it my ungentle fate When Love commanded me to wait Upon my Saint by break of day I brought a heart but carried none away When we joyn'd ceremonious breath And lips that took a leave like death With a sad parting thought opprest Did it leave mine to glide into her brest Or was it when like Pallas she Was mounted and I gaz'd to see My heart then looking through mine eye Did after her out at that window flie 'T was so and cause I did not ride My heart would Lackey by her side Or some more careful Angel be To see my Mistris safe convey'd for me Nay then attend thy charge nor fear Storms in the way and if a tear By chance at looking back on thee Bedew her eye drink that a health to me But smile at night and be her guest At once her musick and her feast And if at any mention made Of me she sigh say all thy travell 's paid But when shee 's gently laid to rest Oh listen softly to her brest And thou shalt hear her soul but see Thou wake her not for she may dream of me But what 's all this when I am here If fancie bid thee welcom there Heart this last dutie I implore Or bring her back or see thy Cell no more Love for Enjoying FAir Lady what 's your face to me I was not onely made to see Every silent stander by May thus enjoy as much as I. That blooming nature on your cheek Is still inviting me to seek For unknown wealth within the ground Are all the Royal mettals found Leave me to search I have a thread Through all the Labyrinth shall lead And through every winding veine Conduct me to the golden Mine Which once enjoy'd will give me power To make new Indies every houre Look on those Jewells that abound Upon your dresse that Diamond No flame no lustre could impart Should not the Lapidaries Art Contribute here and there a star And just such things ye women are Who do not in rude Quarries shine But meeting us y' are made divine Come let us mixe our selves and prove That action is the soul of Love Why do we coward-gazing stand Like Armies in the Netherland Contracting fear at eithers sight Till we both grow too weak to fight Let 's charge for shame and chuse you whether One shall fall or both together This is Loves war who ever dies If the surviver be but wise He may reduce the spirit fled For t'other kisse will cure the dead Vpon the Princes Birth FAir fall the Muses that in well-chim'd verse Our Princes happy birth do sing I have a heart as full of joy as their's As full of duty to my King And thus I tell How every bell Did ring forth Englands merry glee The Bonefires too With much adoe It were great pity to belye her Made all the City seem one fire A joyful sight to see The graver Citizens were foxt that day With beer and joy most soundly paid The Constables in duty reeld away And charged others them to aid To see how soon Both Sun and Moon And the seven Stars forgotten be But when 't was night Their heads were light To which they did exalt their horn Because a Prince of Wales was born A joyful c. The Dutch-men having drunk so much before Could not so well expresse their joy The French condemn'd not to be sober more Drank healths unto the Royal Boy In their own wine Neat brisk and fine The valiant Irish Cram-a-Cree It pledged hath In Vsquebagh And being in this jovial vein They made a bogg even of their brain A joyful c. The Welsh for joy her Cosin Prince was born Was mean to change S. Tavie's day Swearing no leeks was be hereafter worn But on the twenty nine of May None so merry Drinking Perry And Metheglin on their knee Was every man A Trojan than Thus arm'd the Tivel her defie And dare tell Beelzebub her lie A joyful c. The Scots in bonny ale their joy did sing And wish'd the Royal Babe a man That they might beg him but to be their King And let him rule'em when he can The Spanjard made A shrugg and said After my pipe come follow me Canary Sack Did go to wrack Some Marchants went to Malago Some drown'd in good old Charnico A joyful c. And now let all good Subjects prayers ascend That heaven with milk would swel their brest That nurse the babe may Angels still attend To rock him gently to his rest Let his glory Raise a story Worthy an immortal pen So Charles God blesse Our Queen no lesse And in conclusion of my Song I wish that man without a tongue That will not say Amen To his honoured friend Tho. Stanley Esquire upon his elegant Poems A Palsie shakes my pen while I intend A votive to thy Muse since to commend With my best skill will be as short of thee As thou above all future poesie Thou early miracle of Wit and Art That hath prodigiously so got the start Of Ages in thy study Time must be Old once agen in overtaking thee I know not where I am when I peruse Thy learned loves how
common place Be judg your selves that know what 't is to leave A friend then wisely teach me how to grieve Be judge you that did want him while he liv'd But more now since he then your lives repriv'd Forfeit to miseries and let me know What height and method you 'l prescribe your wo Be judge that were companions of his wit And knew with what wise Art he manag'd it When Natures darling bleeds who can be found Whose heart would not drop balme into the wound Last be you Judges who best teach the way And steer our erring souls to heaven then say How much Divinity is gone and by Your grief I le learn to write his Elegie Vpon the death of K. James WHen busie Fame was almost out of breath With telling to the world King James his death I gave the voice no credit not that I Beleev'd in Law That Kings can never die For though of purer mold at last they must Resolve to their cold principle the dust Distinguish'd onely from the common men That being dead their dust is Royal then What though the King were old as soon must they Be at home whose journey 's down-hill all the way But I would trust my eye not every sound The ear oft catches things at false rebound To cleer my doubts some told me that did bring By Torch-light the dead body of the King When every star like kinsmen to the dead That night close-mourners hid their golden head And had repos'd that Royal burden where His people might embalm him with their tear Sorrow finds quick direction I came To a fair House I cannot giv 't a name It had so many onely this I know It might be aptly call'd the House of wo Deaths Inne of late for Princes who there lay As taking but a Lodging in their way To the dark Grave Entred the Court I see Many attir'd in black but this might be Their abstinence for Lent for who is there That cannot fast from Colours once a yeer After some justling with the guard I came Toth' presence which but mockt me with a name For it presented nothing to my eye But blacks and tears for absent Majesty Thence to the Privie-chamber I did passe In hope to find him there but there alas I found new shapes of sorrow Men whose eyes Drunk up by tears shew'd life in a disguise The mourning state here did renew my wo For the lost Presence Velvet hangings too Made sorrow of more value which beheld The ' Scutcheon Royal in a Sable Field To the bed-chamber then the shrine some said Where the pale body of the King was laid My wild devotion brought me This sad room At first did fright me opening like a Tomb To shew me death where Tapers round about Flameles would tell me that our light was out But by that melancholy day was lent I might discover on his monument A King with subtle Artifice so set My sense did stagger at the Counterfet Alas was this the way to gain belief That he was dead to paint him now to life As if when we had lost him it had been Enough to have thought him but alive agen But to these sad Remonstrances I give No faith the King I sought might be alive For all these figures and their Makers be At least as my soul wish'd more dead then he From thence to hite-hall when I came with wing Nimble as fear could make I found the King I triumph'd here and boldly did revive King James not dead he was in Charles alive Vpon the death of Sr. Th. Nevill SWelling Eyes forbear to weep Can the marble that doth keep So rich a Nevill not appear Full of cold drops without your tear Or the Earth beneath his Tombe Not feel a labour in her wombe When with her profaner dust His ashes mingle Sure it must Break with burden of new pain And from her root he grow again An Elegie upon the honourable fair and vertuous M. Borlase COme hither Virgins that are good and fair Insteed of flowers here carelesse strew your hair Pay down the tribute due from all your eyes For underneath this dewy Marble lies One worth you all although you cannot make Her live again 't is justice for her sake To weep your selves blind for in vain you keep Your eye-sight while Marya's gone to sleep That was your path and Leader but away You are but common mourners for this day Hid in a storm of tears doth wait the name Of great Borlase wounded and led by fame The mist is blown away I see it come With temper'd hast to look into her Tomb To find an arme which from his body rent Does lie enbalmd in this white monument Forbear chief mourner and consent to be Without this limb more must be torne from thee And kept by death till the whole body meet And sleep together in one winding sheet Vpon the Death of C. D. Engineere who died upon service to which had no command IF we those men for gallant justifie Who when they are commanded on dare die Tell me how glorious shall their valour stand That dare like Dalby die without command Though order be the life of war the sword And bullet will not ask us for the word Nor did his courage know to make a pause When honour call'd so loud and such a cause As would untame a Hermit and make room With his own fire to meet the Martyrdome All that the sons of Flegm and fear can say Is that he might have liv'd and so will they Like earth-wormes safe in their owne slime and sleep Till the last Trumpet wake'em and then creep Into some Blind and wish this worthy then Alive to hide them in some Turfes agen But his soul wing'd with nobler flame found out Not to be active is the way about To Glory which he being fond to taste They are too wise that blame him for his haste Epitaph On the Duke of BVCKINGHAM HEre lies the best and worst of Fate Two Kings delight the peoples hate The Courtiers star the Kingdoms eye A man to draw an Angel by Fears despiser Villiers glory The Great mans volume all times story An Elegie upon the truly Honourable Tho. Viscount Savage IS Savage dead and can the Rock which bears His Name not strait dissolve it self in tears And weep into the Sea where it may have A Burial too whilst every frighted wave At this new guest may raise his curled head And in a storm tell all the world who 's dead But here 's no want of Flood for every eye Conspires in melting to an Elegie But first see where the King and Queen are come To pour their grief into their servants Tombe Let publike sorrow be first serv'd 't is cleer The Kingdom weeps in every Princes tear And now his children drop their pious rain Though none can soften his stiffe clay again And sigh they had a Father from whose care And wealth in vertue every Child 's an Heir