Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A04651
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Ben: Ionson's execration against Vulcan· VVith divers epigrams by the same author to severall noble personages in this kingdome. Never published before.; Execration against Vulcan
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Jonson, Ben, 1573?-1637.; Vaughan, Robert, engraver.
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1640
(1640)
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STC 14771; ESTC S107918
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16,364
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58
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same that thou art promis'd but be slow And long in changing let our Nephews see Thee quickly come the gardens eye to be And still to stand so Haste now envious Moone And interpose thy selfe care not how soone And threat the great Eclips two houres but runne Sol will reshine if not Charles hath a Sonne Non Displicuisse meretur Festinat Caesar qui placuisse tibi B. Ionson Another on the Birth of the Prince ANother Phoenix though the first is dead A second 's flowne from his immortall bed To make this our Arabia to be The nest of an eternall progeny Choise Nature fram'd the former but to finde What error might be mended in Man-kinde Like some industrious workman which affect Their first endeavours onely to correct So this the building that the modell was The type of all that now is come to passe That but the shadow this the substance is All that was but the prophesie of this And when it did this after birth fore-runne 'T was but the morning starre unto this Sunne The dawning of this day when Sol did think We having such a light that he might wink And we ne're misse his lustre nay so soone As Charles was borne he and the pale-fac'd Moon With envy then did copulate to try If such a Birth might be produc'd i' th sky What Heavenly favour made a starre appeare To bid wise Kings to doe their homage here And prove him truely Christian long remain On Earth sweet Prince that when great Charles shal reign In Heaven above our little Charles may be As great on Earth because as good as he B. Ionson A Paralell of the Prince to the King SO Peleus when he faire Thetis got As thou thy Sea-Queene so to him she brought A blessed Babe as thine hath done to thee His worthiest prov'd of those times ours may be Of these his had a Pallas for his guide Thy wisedome will as well for ours provide His Conquered Countries Cities Castles Towers A worthy foe hereafter so may ours His all his time but once Patroclus findes But this of ours a world of faithfull friends He 's vulnerable in no place but one And this of ours we hope be hurt of none His had his Phoenix ours no teacher needs But the example of thy Life and Deeds His Nestor knew in Armes his fellow was But not in yeares too soone runne out his Glasse Ours though not Nestor knew we trust shall bee As wise in Armes as old in yeares as hee His after Death had Homer his reviver And ours may better merit to live ever By Deeds farre-passing but oh sad dispaire No hope of Homer his wit left no heire B. Jonson An Elegy on the Lady Jane Paulet Marchionesse of Winchester VVhat goodly Ghost besprint with Aprill dew Halls me so solemnly to yonder Yeugh And beckoning wooes me from the fatall tree To plucke a Garland for her selfe or me I doe obey you beauty for in death You seeme a faire one O that I had breath To give your shade a name stay stay I feele A horror in me all my blood is steele Stiffe stark my ioynts 'gainst one another knock Whose daughter ha great Savage of the Rock He 's good as great I am almost a stone And ere I can aske more of her she 's gone Alas I am all Marble write the rest Thou wouldst have written fame upon my breast It is a large faire Table and a true And the disposure will be somewhat new When I who would her Poet have become At least may beare th' inscription to her Tombe She was the Lady Iane and Marchionesse Of Winchester the Heralds can tell this Earle Rivers grand-child serve not titles Fame Sound thou her vertues give her soule a name Had I a thousand mouths as many tongues And voyce to raise them from my brasen Lungs I durst not aime at the Dotes thereof were such No Nation can expresse how much Their Charact was I or my trump must breake But rather I should I of that part speake It is too neare of kin to God the soule To be describ'd Fames fingers are too foule To touch those misteries we may admire The heate and splendor but not handle fire What she did by great example well T' inlive posterity her fame may tell And calling truth to witnesse make it good From the inherint graces in her blood Else who doth prayle a person by a new But a feign'd way doth spoyle it of the true Her sweetnesse softnesse her faire courtesie Her wary guards her wise simplicity Were like a ring of vertues 'bout her set And Piety the center where all met A reverend state she had an awfull eye A darling yet inviting Maiesty VVhat Nature Fortune Institution Fact Could heape to a perfection was her act How did she leave the world with what contempt Iust as she in it liv'd and so exempt From all affection when they urg'd the Cure Of her disease how did her soule assure Her sufferings as the Body had bin away And to the torturers her Doctors say Sticke on your Cupping-glasses feare not put Your hottest Causticks to burne lance or cut T is but a body which you can torment And I into the world with my soule was sent Then comforted her Lord and blest her sonne Chear'd her faire sisters in her race to runne VVhich gladnesse temper'd her sad parents teares Made her friends ioyes to get above their feares And in her last act taught the standers by With admiration and applause to dye Let Angels sing her glories who did call Her spirit home to her originall That saw the way was made it and were sent To carry and conduct the complement 'Twixt death and life where her mortality Became her birth-day to eternity And now through circumfused lights she lookes On Natures secrets there as her owne bookes Speakes heavens language and discourses free To every Order every Hierarchy Beholds her Maker and in him doth see VVhat the beginning of all beauties be And all beatitudes that thence doth flow VVhich the Elect of God are sure to know Goe now her happy parents and be sad If yee not understand what child you had If you dare quarrell heaven and repent To have paid againe a blessing was but lent And trusted so as it deposited lay At pleasure to be cald for every day If you can envy your owne daughters blisse And wish her state lesse happy than it is If you can cast about your either eye And see all dead here or about to dye The Stars that are the iewells of the night The day deceasing with the Prince of light The Sun Great Kings mightiest kingdoms fal VVhole nations nay man-kind the world all That ever had beginning to have end VVith what iniustice can one soule pretend T' escape this common knowne necessity VVhen we were all borne we beganne to dye And but for that brave contention and strife The Christian hath t' enioy a future life
He were the wretched'st of the race of men But as he soares at that he bruiseth then The Serpents head gets above Death and Sinne And sure of heaven rides triumphing in B. Jonson ODE PINDARICK On the the Death of Sir Hen. Morison BRave Infant of Saguntum cleare Thy comming forth in that great yeare When the prodigious Hanibal did Crowne His rage with razing your immortall Town Thou looking then about Ere thou wert halfe got out Wise Child didst hastily returne And madst thy Mothers wombe thine Vrne How sum'd a Circle didst thou leave mankind Of deepest lore could wee the center find The Counter-turne Did wiser Nature draw thee backe From out the horrour of that sack Where shame faith honour and regard of right Lay trampled on the deeds of death and night Vrg'd hurried forth and hurld Vpon th' affrighted world Sword fire famine with full fury met And all on utmost ruine set As could they but lives miseries fore-see No doubt all Infants would returne like thee The Stand For what is Life if measur'd by the space Not by the Act Or masked man if valued by his face Above his Fact Here 's one out-liv'd his Peeres And told forth fourescore yeeres He vexed time and busied the whole State Troubled both foes and friends But ever to no ends What did this stirrer but dye late How well at twenty had he falne or stood For three of his fourescore he did no good The Turne He entred well by vertuous parts Got up and thriv'd with honest Arts He purchas'd friends and fame and honors then And had his Noble Name advanc'd with men But weary of that flight He stoop'd in all mens sight To sordid flatteries acts of strife And sunke in that dead Sea of life Too deepe as he did then Deaths waters sup But that the Corke of Title Boy'd him up The Counter-turne Alas but Morison fell young He never fell thou tripst my tongue He stood a Souldier to the last night end A perfect Patriot and a noble friend But most a vertuous Sonne All offices were done By him so ample full and round In weight and measure number sound As though his Age imperfect might appeare His life was of Humanity the Spheare The Stand Goe now and tell out dayes sum'd up with fears And make them yeares Produce thy masse of miseries on the Stage To swell thine Age Repeate of things a throng To shew thou hast beene long Not liv'd for life doth her great actions spell By what was done and wrought In season and so brought To light her measures are how well Each sillib answer'd and was form'd how faire These make the lines of life and that 's her aire The Turne It is not growing like a Tree In bulke doth make man better be Or standing long an Oake three hundued yeare To fall a log at last dry bald and seare A Lilly of a day Is fairer farre in May Although it fall and dye at night It was the plant and flower of light In small proportions we iust beauty see And in short measures life may perfect be The Counter-turne Call Noble Lucius then for wine And let thy looks with gladnesse shine Accept this Garland plant it on thy head And thinke nay know thy Morison's not dead He leap'd the present age Possest with holy rage To see the bright eternall day Of which we Priests and Poets say Such truths as wee expect for happy men And there he lives with memory and Ben The Stand Ionson who sung this of him e're he went Himselfe to rest Or taste a part of that full ioy he meant To have exprest In this bright Asterisme Where it was friendships schisme Were not his Lucius long with us to tarry To separate these twi Lights the Dioscuri And keepe the one halfe from his Harry But Fate doth so alternate the designe VVhilst that in heaven this light on earth must shine The Turne And shine as you exalted are Two names of friendship but one starre Of hearts the union and those not by chance Made or indentur'd or leas'd out to advance The profits for a time No pleasures vaine did chime Of Rimes or ryots at your feasts Argues of Drinke or feign'd protests But simple Love of greatnesse and of good That knits brave minds and manners more than blood The Counter-turne This made you first to know the why You lik'd then after to apply That likening and approach so one to th' other Till either grew a portion of the other Each stiled by his end The coppy of his friend You liv'd to be the great sirnames And titles by which all made claimes Vnto the vertue nothing perfect done But as a Cary or a Morison The Stand And such a force the faire example had As they that saw The good and durst not practise it were glad That such a Law Was left yet to man-kind Where they might read and find Friendship indeed was written not in words And with the Heart not Pen Of two so earely men VVhose Lines her Rowles were and records VVho e're the first downe bloomed on the Chin Had sowed these fruits and got the harvest in B. Jonson To Hierome Lord Weston vpon his returne from his Embassy SVch pleasures as the teeming earth Doth take in easie Natures birth When she puts forth the life of every thing And in a dew of sweetest raine She lyes deliver'd without paine Of the prime beauty of the yeare and spring That Rivers in their shores doe runne The Clouds racke cleare before the Sunne The rudest winds obey the calmest aire Rare plants from every banke doe rise And every plant the sence surprise Because the order of the whole is faire The very verdure of her nest VVherein she sits so richly drest As all the wealth of season there were spread Have shew'd the graces and the houres Have multiply'd their arts and powers In making soft her stromaticke bed Such ioyes such sweets doth your returne Bring all your friends faire Lord that burne With ioy to heare your modesty relate The businesse of your blooming wit With all the fruits that follow it Both to the honour of the King and state O how will the Court be pleas'd To see great CHARLES of travell eas'd When he beholds a graft of his owne hand Spring up an Olive fruitfull faire To be a shadow of the Aire And both a strength and beauty to the Land B. I. To the right Honourable the L. Treasurer An Epigram IF to my mind great Lord I had a state I would present you with some curious Plate Of Norimberg or Turkie hang your rooms Not from the Arras but the Persian Looms I would if price or prayer could them get Send in what or Romano Tintaret Titian or Raphaell Michaell Angelo Have left in Fame to equall or out-goe The old Greeke hands in picture or in stone This would I doe could I thinke VVeston one Catch'd with these Arts wherein the Iudge is wife As farre