overcame them more I' th' Court than ere we did i' th' Field before How fatal to the French is Monmouths name They shud be twice thus Conquer'd by the same By Valour first in War and now no less A second Time by Gallantry in Peace To the Dutchess of MONMOUTH Madam YOu being all Admirable as you are No wonder yet I never could declare But by an Aspiration or two The admiration which I had for you Nor is 't a thing I 've rane up of report But travelling your whole Sex over for 't I must conclude where ever I have been You are the worthiest yet I 've ever seen Else 't were my Ignorance not your praise had I Not first of all made full discovery For who know nothing admire all they view Who all things know nothing admire but you Nor can there any so injurious be Unto your worth to think this Flattery 'T is flattry to praise vice but when we praise Vertue 't is obligation each one has And they shud rather be thought envious who Don't praise you for 't then flatterers who do To a certain Great Lady Who commanded him to wait on her And when he came he was made to wait for her Madam YOu did command that I shud wait on you And that there 's none more willingly shud do But to wait for you in your outward Rooms Among your Tradesmen Servingmen Grooms That is a thing I never yet could do Nor ever was accustomed unto Bid me to go I 'll run to run I 'll flee But stand and wait's impossible for me All that is possible to be done I 'll do I can wait on you but can't wait for you On the death of the Duke of GLOCESTER HIgh born and Great as any Prince on earth With Minde more Great and High then was his Birth Wise 'bove his years Valiant above a man Whence you perceive how early he began Whose life was onely an Epitome Where you in brief all gallantry might see And active fire like lightning did appear That even is gone ere you can say 't is here One who had all those brave and noble parts Which most gain love most do conquer hearts Whence no Prince yet had ever more that griev'd When he was dead or lov'd him when he liv'd Who 's now so dull when this they hear but sed That does not know the Duke of Glocester's dead The gallantst person Nature ever made And hopefulst Prince as ever England had Let all admire this world now learn by this What all their worldly hopes and Greatness is On the death of the Lady Jean Cheynée THe softest Temper and the mildest Breast Most apt to pardon needing pardon least Whose blush was all her Reprehension Whilst none ere heard her chide nor saw her frown All sweetness gentleness and dovlike all Without least anger bitterness or gall Who scarce had any passion of her own But was for others all compassion A Saint she liv'd and like a Saint she dy'd And now is gone where onely Saints abide What will she be when she 's with Angels when She even was one whilst here she was with men What will she be in heaven when she comes there Whose life and manners were so heavenly here Make much of her you Saints for God knows when Your Quires will ever have her like agen The Pourtract SUch a Stature as they call Nor too Low nor yet too Tall With each part from head to foot Justly answerable to 't Such a Beauty such a Face Adds to all the rest a Grace In whose Circle does appear Thousand Cupids sporting there Hair so black and Skin so white Never was a fairer sight And her fairer yet to make Eyes and Eye-brows too as black Forehead smoother then the Glass In the which she sees her Face Cheeks where naturally grows The Lillies and the blushing Rose Nose 'bove all so gently rises Nothing more the sight surprizes Lipps all other Lipps excelling Th' ar so ruddy and so swelling Mouth and pretty dimpled Chin With such pearly Teeth within No Indian Shell did ere inclose More Oriental ones than those Voyce that charms you 't is so sweet Made more charming by her Wit And you 'd think in every smile All the Graces dwelt the while If any'd know who this may be Name but Bellasis it is she STANCES Envoyez par le Sieur de Scudery A l' Altezze de Madame la Duchess de Lorrein Avec son Grand Cyrus §. CYrus passa tous les vainqueurs Ilfut l' Example des Grands Princes Mais vous surmontez plus des Coeurs Qu'il ne surmonta des provinces §. O mervileuse nouveauté O rare pouvoir de vos Charmes De faire plus par la Beauté Qu'un Heros ne fit par ses Armes §. Vous voyant vaincre en un moment Le Brave qui vainquit l' Asie Chacun a de l' estonement Mandane a de la Ialousie §. En fin le plus grand des Guerriers Va mettre a vos pieds sa Couronne Heureux si parmy ses Lauriers Vous prennez son Coeur qu'il vous donne STANCES Sent to her Highness the Dutchess of Lorrein By the Sieur de Scudery Together with his Grand Cyrus §. CYrus a mighty Conqueror was To whom for valour none but yeilds But yours his Conquests far surpass Who win more hearts then he did fields §. O strange to admiration O wondrous power of your Charms Your Beauty shud do more alon Then coud a Heroe by his Arms. §. To see you overcome so soon Him who all Asia overcame Gives wonder unto every one And jelousie unto Mandane §. In fine the best of Warriers layes His Crown down at your feet and shall Count it his happiness if with 's bayes You but accept his heart and all On her Death WHen this fair soul in mortal flesh did live It had some Angel been you would believe Thorough her bright Exterior there did shine So much from her Interior of Divine And if her Vertuous Actions you had seen You would have thought she Vertu 's self had been Which could it but be seen by mortal Eyes All hearts with admiration would surprize And now all that could dye of her is dead And that that 's living unto Heaven is fled As when some Lamp untimely does expire The flame mounts up to th' Element of Fire This Epitaph in memory of her Let 's onely write upon her Sepulcher She who alive all Vertue and Beauty was T' on in her Breast and tother in her Face Now she is dead just Reason w 'ave to fear All Vertue and Beauty too ar dead with her Whilst all the joy we had or ere shall have Now she is dead lyes buried in her Grave To her Noble Sister Madamoiselle de BEAUVAIS Now Princess of Aremberg ALl the Lay thoughts Madam I ever had Of your fair Sex ar now Religious made Admiring you and I 'm become by it Your
This geer will soon be amended Upon them but frown VVhen you have them at home And all this quarrel is ended Sharp Hawks you are sure VVill come to the lure So for favours in private starve them And strait you 'll see In publick they 'll be More ready and glad to deserve them The Conclusion To his MAJESTY VOuchsafe great Sir on these to cast your sight Made chiefly for your Majesties delight By him has cast off all ambicion But onely the delighting you alone Counting it highest honour can befall To delight him who 's the delight of all EPIGRAMS DIVINE AND MORAL DEDICATED To Her Majesty Nunc cetera ludicra pono Hor. Printed in the Year 1670. TO Her MAJESTY CATHERINE of PORTVGAL Queen of Great Brittain c. MADAM AS never any Stranger was more oblig'd than I unto the King your Father of glorious Memory so never any had greater desire than I to make acknowledgement of it to your Majesty but living in obscurity retyr'd from the light of Court and making no Figure there I imagined it would have no Grace for such a shadow and Cypher as I to present my self unto your Majesty and other presents I had none but onely this which by its littleness shews the greatness of my desire to declare my self MADAM Your Majesties In all Humility and Devotion Richard Flecknoe Divine and Moral EPIGRAMS The Fourth BOOK To her MAJESTY Of the dignity and efficacy of prayer AS by the Sun we set our Dyals so Madam we set our Pietys by you Without whose light we shud in darkness be And nothing truely good nor vertuous see You in the Temple so assidual are Your whole Life seems but one continued Prayer And every place an Oratory you make When from the Temple y' are returned back Like vapours prayers ascend and heaven in rain Of blessings showers them down on us again And if Heaven suffers violence from whence But onely prayer proceeds this violence Fools were those Gyants then since if insteed Of heaping hills on hills as once they did They had but heapt up prayers on prayers as fast they might have easily conquer'd heaven at last O mighty prayer that canst such wonders do To force both Heaven and the Almighty too On these words of our B. S. O woman great is thy Faith O Lord when shall our Faith be praised thus And we deserve t' have thus much said of us Others count all things possible to thee We nothing possible but what we see They more to faith than sences credit give We more our sences than our faith believe They believe all we but believe by halfs Their Faiths are Gyants ours but onely dwarfs Why I write these pious Epigrams so short SInce long discources thou'lt not harken to I make these short to see what that will do On the Nativity of our B. S. AFter the Glory which to God on high Was given to day at his Nativity If piously curious you woud know What Peace it was was given to men below That peace of God infallibly it was All humane understanding does surpass Which whilst the high proud do seek in vainâ— The low and humble onely do obtain Seek then to know no farther but be wise This is the Mystery of Mysteries After which none that any Reason hath Can doubt of any mystery of Faith That God's a Man and 's Mother a Virgin is What can there be more wonderful than this Of the Circumcision of our B. S. HOw soon O Lord to day didst thou begin To shed thy blood for us when first was seen Spring forth the Fountain of thy pretious bloud Which at thy passion ended in a floud On the death and passion of our B. S. O Blessed God! and wouldst thou dye For such a wretched thing as I This of thy Love 's so great a proof Angels can ne'er admire enough And all the Love by far transcends Of Parents and of dearest friends T' have such a benefit bestow'd Woud undo any but a God And Love it self make Bankrout too By leaving't nothing more to do Had King or Prince done this for me What wondring at it woud there be And wondring at it now there 's none When by a God himself 't is done Strange blindness man shud more esteem Of any thing that 's given to him By earthly Kings than what is given Unto him by the King of heaven Of Iudgement DEath terriblest of terriblest they call But here behold the terriblest of all For none fear death but those who judgement fear For some offences th 'ave committed here Life 's but a prison we the prisoners are Death Iaylor or the Turnkey as it were Who but delivers us when Sessions come To the Tribunal to receive our doom When as we well or ill have lived here We shall be punisht or rewarded there And this now is the most that death can do The rest let each ones Conscience look unto Happy are those who in that dreadful day With good Hylarion confidently may say Go forth my soul this many and many a year Thou hast serv'd God now why shudst thou fear Leave that to those who whilst they made aboad In this world here did serve it more than God The good and vertuous wish for death the bad And vitious onely are of death affraid Death is the shadow of life and as in vain A beast shud look for th' shadow of a man So those who have not liv'd the life shud trust In vain at last to dye the death o'th'just Of Easter and Christmas OF Easter a great word was said This is the day the Lord hath made Of Christmas yet a greater word This is the day that made the Lord. On these words of our B. S. I am the Way the Truth and the Life Paraphrase THou art the Way the Truth and Life thou sayst As well thou mayst What Fool is he then woud forsake the way And go astray What Fool is he who woud the Truth refuse And falshood chuse But above all what fool and mad man's he Woud forsake thee Who art Eternal Life and chuse to dye Eternally On Gods beholding all we do THou fearst the sight of men when thou dost ill Why not the sight of God who sees thee still On our dependancy on the hands of Almighty God HAve you not markt how little puppets move By their dependanee from some hand above Just such is man i' th' hands of God if he But well consider'd his dependancy And who if this he well consider woud Shud ever dare to offend Almighty God Who gently leads those who his will obey And those who won't he hales and drags avvay Rebel and fool then struggle not in vain To flee the hand of God and break thy chain Which thou canst never do nor ever flee But from God pleas'd to God displeas'd with thee Struggle no longer with him then for woe Unto thee if he once but let thee go On these words of
all Cosmography And Cart or Map wher all the world you see Seeing what you do and being what you ar You are the onely great Cosmographer And if others like rowling Balls of Snow Travelling about the world still greater grow How great must you be who were great before And now by travelling still grow more more To the same On his coming into England COsmo whose thirst of seeing the world 's so great Shud the Creator more new worlds creat Till there were Globes enow for every Ball I' th' Mediceian Arms you 'd see them all Amongst the rest at last y' ar come to see This other world of ours Great Brittany And Princes like your self where ere they come This priviledge have th' ar every where at home Others are Citizens of the world but you Not onely Citizen but Prince of 't too Neerly by Birth and Parentage ally'd To most o' th' Princes of the world beside To the Lady M. N. Or the fair Daughter of as fair a Mother WHat you 'll be in Time we know By the Stock on which you grow As by Roses we may see What in time the Buds will be So in Flowers and so in Trees So in every thing that is Like its like does still produce As 't is Natures constant use Grow still then till you discover All the Beauties of your Mother Nothing but fair and sweet can be From so sweet and fair a Tree EPIGRAMS The second BOOK To his Royal Highness The Duke of York Returning from our Naval Victory Anno 65. MOre famous and more great then ere Caesar or Alexander were Who hath both done and outdone too What those great Heroes coud not do Till Empire of the Seas we get No Victory can be compleat For Land and Sea makes but one Ball They had but half thou hast it all Great Prince the glory of our days And utmost bound of humane praise Increast in stile we well may call Thee now the whole worlds Admiral Whilst might Charles with Trident stands And like some God the Sea commands Having so gloriously o'ercome What now remains but to come home And fixed in our Brittish Spher Shine a bright Constellation ther More famous and more great than ere Caesar or Alexander were To his Highness Prince Rupert on the same GReat and Heroick Prince surpassing far Him who was stil'd the Thunder-bolt of War The Belgick Lyon stands amaz'd to see A greater Lyon than it self in thee And Zealand on all trembling for fear Half sinks into the Waves and hides it there Ne'er since the Grecians cal'd the world their own Or Romans theirs was greater valour known And if there yet new worlds to conquer were Brave Rupert were the fittest Conqueror Greatest Example of Heroick worth As ever yet this latter Age brought forth As formerly the Land of Brittain was So now the Sea 's too narrow for thy praise And 't will in time become the work alon Of extasie and admiration Great and Heroick Prince surpassing far Him who was stil'd the Thunder-boult of War To Sir K. D. in Italy Anno 46. Recommending to him a certain Memorial I Must beg of you Sir nay what is more 'T is a disease so infectious to be poor Must beg you 'd beg for me which whilst I do What is' t but even to make you beggar too But poverty being as honourable now As 't was when Cincinnatus held the plough Senators Sow'd and Reap'd and who had been In Car of triumph fetcht the Harvest in Whilst mightiest Peers do want nay what is worse Even greatest Princes live on others purse And very Kings themselves are beggers made No shame for any Sir to be o' th' Trade To Sir Peter Collaton On the discovery and Plantation of Carolina in America BOrn for the Countries good and adding to 't New Countries and Plantations to boot Whilst others for themselves seem onely born Like Rats and Mice and but to eat up Corn If others so much prais'd and honour'd are For bringing home some forrain Countries ware Their praise compar'd to thine must needs be small Bringst home the ware the Country too and all On Mary Dutchess of Richmond WHether a cheerful air does rise And eleuate her fairer Eyes Or a pensive heaviness Her lovely Eye-lids does depress Still the same becoming Grace Accompanies her Eyes and Face Still you 'd think that habit best In which her countenance last was drest Poor Beauties whom a look or glance Can sometimes make look fair by chance Or curious dress or artful care Can make seem fairer then they are Give me the Eyes give me the Face To which no Art can add a Grace Give me the looks no garb nor dress Can ever make more fair or less On the Death Of Charles Lord Gerard of Bromley WHo alive so far had been He almost every land had seen And almost every thing did know A man could in this World below At last his knowledge to improve Is gone unto the World above Where his knowledge is so much And his happiness is such 'T would envie and not sorrow seem In those too much shud grieve for him On George Duke of Albemarle IF others have their honours well deserv'd Who nobly have their King Country serv'd What Honour ever can be worthy you Who have not onely serv'd but sav'd them too To a Lady Too curious of her Dress ANd why Clarissa so much pains and care To gain the reputation of fair When without all this care and all this pain You have already what you strive to gain Beauty and Truth need so small setting forth As all you add to 't take but from its worth And th' Sun and you need far more art to hide Your brighter beams then make them more espy'd All other Arts in you woud shew as poor As his shud go about to guild Gold o'er And you 'd appear as vain in it as they Shud seek by Art to Blanch the Milkie-way You 're fair enough Clarissa leave to those These petty arts whose Beautie 's onely Clothes And who need powdering patching painting too Or else they know their beauty'll hardly do So politicks when Lyons skin does fail Do use to pieâ—e it out with Foxes tail But when th 'ave Lyons skin enough 't is poor And beggerly to add a piece to 't more To Mr. Edward Howard Brother to the Duke of Norfolk IT is not Travel makes the man 't is true Unless a man could Travel Sir like you In putting off themselves and putting on The best of every Country where they come Their Language Fashions Manners their use Purg'd of the dross and stript of the abuse Whilst you pyed Traveller who nothing knows Of other Countries fashions but their clothes And learns their Language but as Parrots do Onely perhaps a broken word or two Goes and returns the same he went agen By carrying still himself along with him On the Dutchess of Newcastles Closset WHat place is this looks like some
B. S. Be ye perfect YOu bid us to be perfect Lord and we Continue still imperfect as you see What shud we say O Lord but onely this Give what you bid and bid us what you please On these words of the Apostle Nihil ex me possum facere And again Omnia possum in eo qui me Confortat HAppy are those who doubly armed are Against presumption and against dispair By these words of th' Apostle first that man Without Gods help of himself nothing can and next that he can all things do again By Grace of God who helps and comforts him On the saying of a certain holy man MY God and I can all things do said one And if it seems too great presumption To name himself with God 't is without doubt A greater yet to name one's self without On these words Deo service Regnare est HArk all who just like Tantalus's starve Whilst you in vain for worldly greatness serve And know that all this world is but a cheat And how there 's nothing in 't that 's truely gyeat But if indeed true greatness thou dost love 'T is onely to be sought i' th' world above And to serve God whilst in this World w' are here Is th' onely way to arrive unto it there Know then the onely true Ambition Is for to serve Almighty God alone For who serve others are but slavish things But 't is to Raign to serve the King of kings On the Picture of a weeping Magdalen ARt as well as Nature coud Have made a speaking if it woud As well as weeping Magdalen But that it is the nobler way In those who grieve for love they say to grieve and never to complain On the Magjis following the Star OTher Astrologers of opinion were That all the World was lesser than a Star But these it seems believed it alone Who woud leave all the world to follow on Of the rooting out vices VIce is in man as weeds in Gardens are And lest we daily take especial care To weed and root them out they grow so fast We shud be quit o'er grown with them at last More shame for us each silly Gardner then Shud take more care to keep his Garden clean Than we our selves and with a hand more nice purge it from weeds than we our selves from vice Of the pleasure of doing good c. DO good with pain this pleasure in 't you finde The pain 's soon past the good remains behinde Do ill with pleasure this y 'ave for your pains The pleasure passes soon the ill remains On a Ladies Beauty suddenly decay'd O Heavens is this that so admired face Where yesterday such world of Beauty was And now to day 't is all so wholly gon No shadow coud be vanish'd half so soon If this the end of mortal Beauty be O thou imortal rather unto thee Let me my vows and my devotions pay That ever lasts and never canst decay Then such frail Idols which whilst we adore To day are here to morrow are no more Of Sin WHo woud but think when th' are about to sin O' th' pains which sinners for 't in Hell are in They 'd sooner throw themselves i' th' fire here Than hazard â—eing thrown i' th' fire that 's there This if thou dost believe I see not how Thou canst a sinner be and if that thou Dost not believe it then I do not see How thou agen a Christian canst be O cursed sin nor heaven nor earth can bear Cast Angels out of heaven created there man out of Paradise who there did dwell And all the rest for sinning into Hell The Harmes of procrastination You say Repentance never comes too late But let not sinners be deceiv'd with that It may too late be to Repent if they Defer it yet untill an other day How many sinners have unto their sorrow Lost Heaven by putting't off until to morrow And Hell is full of those who sinning cry'd To morrow still till unawars they dy'd Then let 's not croaking Ravens imitate By crying cras cras still till 't be too late But leaving of this damned cry let 's say To morrow is too late begin to day Of hearing the Word of God IF those as Holy Scripture makes it clear Who have the Spirit of God God's Word will hear We well may fear what spirit makes abood In those who will not hear the Word of God On our B. S. curing the Leaper And our own infirmity O Lord thou knowst how most infirm I am Blinde unto Truth vertuous actions lame O therefore thou that makst the blinde to see And lame to walk help my infirmity I know O Lord thou needst but onely say Be cur'd as thou to th' Leaper didst to day And thou knowst Lord so great 's my misery That I am far more Leaporous than he For mine 's not onely in the outward skin But in the very heart and minde within And does not onely make the body soul But even infects and taints the very soul. O therefore thou that knowst my infirmitie Make haste O Lord to help and succour me Of Revenge GOd says Revenge onely to him belongs The Laws to them the righting others wrongs For us to seek Revenge then what is's else But to wrong them whilst we woud right our selves Of Heaven WHat God is he might undertake as well As what Heaven is shud go about to tell For God makes Heaven as Kings make Courts and he No more by man can comprehended be Then can the Ocean that is infinit Be comprehended in some narrow pit Just then as less the Oceans bottom's found More dieply those ingulpht in it are drown'd And as the more 's our ravishment the less We can the joyes which ravish us express We well may say it ne'er can be exprest What joys are there prepared for the blest And 't were not Heaven if we knew what it were But more a Heaven the whilst to those are there Of the thought of death I Can't conceive how any can be said Happy to live who are of death affraid Since daily we in every thing do see 't And every where w' are put in minde of it Happy was he then every night did go To bed as 't were unto his grave and so Got such a habit of 't at last he did Go to his grave but as he went to bed Since every where death waits for us 't is fit We likewise every where shut wait for it Of a Noble Ladies imbracing a Religious Life Eglouge A gentle Sheepherdess as ere did tread Upon the Plains whereon her Flock were fed Inspir'd by him who all good thoughts inspires Felt in her breast till then unfelt desires To taste Heavens pleasures seeing Earth had none A Soul in longing long coud feed upon But changing one a weary of the first She found the latter pleasure still the worst And so went still deluded in her minde Seeking for that which she coud never finde This Infant thought with pious care she fed And with Religious Education bred Giving it now an Aspiration Or vote of that blest life to feed upon And now a sigh and now a tear agen For never knowing that happiness till then Avoiding carefully those Rocks and Shelves On which so many souls had wrackt themselves Those two extreams on which so many fall To undertake too much or nought at all For 't is with new-born-children of desire As 't is with sparks you kindle unto fire Starv'd with too little fewel 't will not lighs Opprest with too much 't is extinguisht quite And now she 's all a fire happiness be Fair Virgin to thy best desires and thee So full so high so great a happiness As nothing can be more that is not less Nothing beyond but down the Hill again And all addition rather loss then gain By glad experience mayst thou finde all store Of hearts contentment thou expects and more And learn that Magick of Religion there Makes every thing quite contrary appear To you than unto us Rich poverty Triumphant sufferance brave humility Soft hardness greatest difficulties slight Sweet bitterness and heaviest burthens light Ease in your labour pleasure in your pain A Heaven on Earth and all things else but vain FINIS