give My dark Imaginations rest you there This is your grave and Superstitious Sphaere Get up my dismtangled Soul thy fire Is now refin'd nothing left to tire Or clog thy wings Now my auspicious flight Hath brought me to the Empyrean light I am a sep'rate Essence and can see The Emanations of the Deitie And how they pass the Seraphims and run Through ev'ry Throne and Domination So rushing through the Guard the Sacred streams Flow to the neighbour Stars and in their beams A glorious Cataract descend to Earth And give Impressions unto ev'ry birth VVith Angels now and Spirits I do dwell And here it is my Nature to do well Thus though my Body you confined see My boundless thoughts have their Ubiquitie And shall I then forsake the Stars and Signs To dote upon thy dark and cursed Mines Unhappy sad exchange what must I buy Guiana with the loss of all the skie Intelligences shall I leave and be Familiar only with mortalitie Must I know nought but thy Exchequer shall My purse and fancy be Symmetrical Are there no Objects left but one must we In gaining that lose our Varietie Fortune this is the reason I refuse Thy Wealth it puts my Books all out of use 'T is poverty that makes me wise my mind Is big with speculation when I find My purse as Randolph's was and I confess There is no Blessing to an Emptiness The Species of all things to me resort And 〈◊〉 then in my breast as in their port Then leave to Court me with thy hated store Thou giv'st me that to rob my Soul of more To I Morgan of White-hall Esq upon his sudden Journey and succeeding Marriage SO from our cold rude World which all things tires To his warm Indies the bright sun retires Where in those provinces of Gold and spice Perfumes his progress pleasures fill his Eyes Which so refresh'd in their return convey Fire into Rubies into Chrystalls day And prove that Light in kinder Climates can Work more on 〈◊〉 Stones than here on man But you like one ordain'd to shine take in Both Light and Heat can Love and Wisdom spin Into one thred and with that firmly tye The same bright Blessings on posterity Which so intail'd like Jewels of the Crown Shall with your Name descend still to your own When I am dead and malice or neglect The worst they can upon my dust reflect For Poets yet have left no names but such As men have envied or despis'd too much You above both and what state more excells Since a just Fame like Health nor wants nor swells To after ages shall remain Entire And shine still spottles like your planets Fire No single lustre neither the access Of your fair Love will yours adorn and bless Till from that bright Conjunction men may view A Constellation circling her and you So two sweet Rose-buds from their Virgin-beds First peep and blush then kiss and couple heads Till yearly blessings so increase their store Those two can number two and twenty more And the fair Bank by heav'ns free bounty Crown'd With choice of Sweets and Beauties doth abound Till time which Familys like Flowers far spreads Gives them for Garlands to the 〈◊〉 of heads Then late posterity if chance or some Weak Eccho almost quite expir'd and dumb shall tell them who the Poet was and how He liv'd and lov'd thee too which thou 〈◊〉 know Strait to my grave will Flowers and spices bring With Lights and Hymns and for an Offering There vow this truth That 〈◊〉 which in old times Was censur'd blind and will contract worse 〈◊〉 If hearts mend not did for thy sake in me Find both his Eyes and all foretell and see FIDA 〈◊〉 The Country-beauty to Lysimachus NOw I have seen her And by Cupid The young Medusa made me 〈◊〉 A face that hath no Lovers stain Wants forces and is near disdain For every Fop will freely peep At Majesty that is asleep But she fair Tyrant hates to be Gaz'd on with such impunity Whose prudent Rigor bravely bears And scorns the 〈◊〉 of whining tears Or sighs those false All-arms of grief Which kill not but 〈◊〉 relief Nor is it thy hard fate to be Alone in this Calamity Since I who came but to be gone Am plagu'd for meerly looking on Mark from her 〈◊〉 to her foot What charming Sweets are there to do 't A Head adorn'd with all those glories That Witt hath shadow'd in quaint stories Or pencill with rich colours drew In imitation of the true Her Hair lay'd out in curious 〈◊〉 And Twists doth shew like silken Nets Where since he play'd at Hitt or Miss The God of Love her pris'ner is And fluttering with his skittish Wings Puts all her locks in Curls and Rings Like twinkling Stars her Eyes invite All gazers to so sweet a light But then two 〈◊〉 Clouds of brown stand o're and guard them with a 〈◊〉 Beneath these rayes of her bright Eyes Beautie 's rich Bed of blushes lyes Blushes which lightning-like come on Yet stay not to be gaz'd upon But leave the Lilies of her Skin As fair as ever and run in 〈◊〉 swift Salutes which dull paint scom Twixt a white noon and Crimson Morne What Corall can her Lips resemble 〈◊〉 hers are warm swell melt and tremble And if you dare contend for Red This is alive the other dead Her equal Teeth above below All of a Cise and Smoothness grow Where under close restraint and awe Which is the Maiden Tyrant law Like a cag'd sullen Linnet dwells Her Tongue the Key to potent spells Her Skin like heav'n when calm and bright Shews a rich azure under white With touch more soft than heart supposes And Breath as sweet as new blown Roses Betwixt this Head-land and the Main Which is a rich and flowry Plain Lyes her fair Neck so fine and slender That gently how you please 't will bend her This leads you to her Heart which ta'ne Pants under Sheets of whitest Lawn And at the first seems much distrest But nobly treated lyes at rest Here like two Balls of new fall'n snow Her Breasts Loves native pillows grow And out of each a Rose-bud Peeps Which Infant beauty sucking sleeps Say now my Stoic that mak'st soures faces At all the Beauties and the Graces That criest unclean though known thy self To ev'ry coorse and dirty shelfe Could'st thou but see a piece like this A piece so full of Sweets and 〈◊〉 In shape so rare in Soul so rich Would'st thou not swear she is a witch Fida forsaken FOol that I was to believe blood While swoll'n with greatness then most good And the false thing forgetful man To trust more than our true God Pan Such swellings to a dropsie tend And meanest things such great ones bend Then live deceived and Fida by That life destroy fidelity For living wrongs will make some wise While death chokes lowdest Injuries And skreens the faulty making Blinds To hide the most unworthy
to give us Light Whereas this doth not take the Use away But urgeth the Necessity of day Proceed to make your pious work as free Stop not your seasonable charity Good works despis'd or censur'd by bad times Should be sent out to aggravate their Crimes They should first Share and then Reject our store Abuse our Good to make their Guilt the more 'T is Warr strikes at our Sins but it must be A Persecution wounds our Pietie To the pious memorie of C. W. Esquire who finished his Course here and made his Entrance into Immortality upon the 13 of September in the year of Redemption 1653. NOw that the publick Sorrow doth subside And those slight tears which Custom Springs While all the rich out-side-Mourners pass are dried Home from thy Dust to empty their own Glass I who the throng affect not nor their state Steal to thy grave undress'd to meditate On our sad loss accompanied by none An obscure mourner that would weep alone So when the world 's great Luminary setts Some scarce known Star into the Zenith gets Twinkles and curls a weak but willing spark As Gloworms here do glitter in the dark Yet since the dimmest flame that kindles there An humble love unto the light doth bear And true devotion from an Hermits Cell Will Heav'ns kind King as soon reach and as well As that which from rich Shrines and Altars flyes Lead by ascending Incense to the Skies 'T is no malicious rudeness if the might Of love makes dark things wait upon the bright And from my sad retirements calls me forth The Just Recorder of thy death and worth Long did'st thou live if length be measured by The tedious Reign of our Calamity And Counter to all storms and changes still Kept'st the same temper and the self same will Though trials came as duly as the day And in such mists that none could see his way Yet thee I found still virtuous and saw The Sun give Clouds and Charles give both the Law When private Interest did all hearts bend And wild dissents the public peace did rend Thou neither won nor worn 〈◊〉 still thy self Not aw'd by force nor basely brib'd with pelf What the insuperable stream of times Did dash thee with those Suff'rings were not Crimes So the bright Sun Ecclipses bears and we Because then passive blame him not should he For inforc'd shades and the Moon 's ruder veile Much nearer us than him be Judg'd to fail Who traduce thee so erre As poisons by Correction are made Antidotes so thy Just Soul did turn ev'n hurtful things to Good Us'd bad Laws so they drew not Tears nor Blood Heav'n was thy Aime and thy great rare Design Was not to Lord it here but there to shine Earth nothing had could tempt thee All that e're Thou pray'dst for here was Peace and Glory there For though thy Course in times long progress fell On a sad age when Warr and open'd Hell Licens'd all Artes and Sects and made it free To thrive by fraud and blood and blasphemy Yet thou thy just Inheritance di'dst by No sacrilege nor pillage multiply No rapine swell'd thy state no bribes nor fees Our new oppressors best Annuities Such clean pure hands had'st thou And for thy heart Man's secret region and his noblest part Since I was privy to 't and had the Key Of that faire Room where thy bright Spirit lay I must affirm it did as much surpass Most I have known as the clear Sky doth glass Constant and kind and plain and meek and Mild It was and with no new Conceits defil'd Busie but sacred thoughts like Bees did still Within it stirr and strive unto that Hill Where redeem'd Spirits evermore alive After their Work is done ascend and Hive No outward tumults reach'd this inward place 'T was holy ground where peace and love and grace Kept house where the immortal restles life In a most dutiful and pious strife Like a fix'd watch mov'd all in order still The Will serv'd God and ev'ry Sense the Will In this safe state death mett thee Death which is But a kind Usher of the good to bliss Therefore to Weep because thy Course is run Or droop like Flow'rs which lately lost the Sun I cannot yield since faith will not permitt A Tenure got by Conquest to the Pitt For the great Victour fought for us and Hee Counts ev'ry dust that is lay'd up of thee Besides Death now grows decrepit and hath Spent the most part both of its time and wrath That thick black night which mankind fear'd is torn By Troops of Stars and the bright day's Forlorn The next glad news most glad unto the Just Will be the Trumpet 's summons from the dust Then I le not grieve nay more I 'le not allow My Soul should think thee absent from me now Some bid their Dead good night but I will say Good morrow to dear Charles for it is day In Zodiacum Marcelli Palingenii IT is perform'd and thy great Name doth run Through ev'ry Sign an everlasting Sun Not Planet-like but fix'd and we can see Thy Genius stand still in his Apogie For how canst thou an Aux eternal miss Where ev'ry House thine Exaltation is Here 's no Ecclyptic threatens thee with night Although the wiser few take in thy light They are not at that glorious pitch to be In a Conjunction with Divinitie Could we partake some oblique Ray of thine Salute thee in a Sextile or a Trine It were enough but thou art flown so high The Telescope is turn'd a Common Eye Had the grave Chaldee liv'd thy Book to see He had known no Astrologie but thee Nay more for I believ 't thou shouldst have been Tutor to all his Planets and to him Thus whosoever reads thee his charm'd sense Proves captive to thy Zodiac's influence Were it not foul to erre so I should look Here for the Rabbins universal Book And say their fancies did but dream of thee When first they doted on that mystery Each line 's a via lactea where we may See thy fair steps and tread that happy way Thy Genius lead thee in Still I will be Lodg'd in some Sign some Face and some Degree Of thy bright Zodiac Thus I 'le teach my Sense To move by that and thee th' Intelligence To Lysimachus the Author being with him in London SAw not Lysimachus last day when wee Took the pure Air in its simplicity And our own too how the trim'd Gallants went Cringing past each step some Complement What strange phantastic Diagrams they drew With Legs and Arms the like we never knew In Euclid Archimed nor all of those Whose learned lines are neither Verse nor Prose What store of Lace was there how did the Gold Run in rich Traces but withall made bold To measure the proud things and so deride The Fops with that which was part of their pride How did they point at us and boldly call As if we had been Vassals to them
hundred pillars by account Dig'd from the quarries of the Theban mount Here as the Custom did require they say His happy parents dust down he doth lay Then to the Image of his Lord he bends And to the flames his burden strait commends Unto the Altars thus he destinates His own Remains the light doth gild the gates Perfumes divine the Censers up do send While th' Indian odour doth it self extend To the Pelusian fens and filleth all The men it meets with the sweet storm A gale To which compar'd Nectar it self is vile Fills the seav'n channels of the misty Nile O happy bird sole heir to thy own dust Death to whose force all other 〈◊〉 must Submit saves thee Thy ashes make thee rise 'T is not thy nature but 〈◊〉 age that dies Thou hast seen All and to the times that run Thou art as great a witness as the Sun Thou saw'st the deluge when the sea outvied The land and drown'd the mountains with the tide What year the stragling Phaeton did fire The world thou know'st And no plagues can conspire Against thy life alone thou do'st arise Above mortality the Destinies Spin not thy days out with their fatal Clue They have no Law to which thy life is due Pious thoughts and Ejaculations To his Books BRight books the perspectives to our weak sights The clear projections of discerning lights Burning and shining Thoughts man's posthume day The track of fled souls and their Milkie-way The dead alive and busie the still voice Of inlarg'd Spirits kind heav'ns white Decoys Who lives with you lives like those knowing flow'rs Which in commerce with light spend all their hours Which shut to Clouds and shadows nicely shun But with glad haste unveil to kiss the Sun Beneath you all is dark and a dead night Which whoso lives in wants both health and sight By sucking you the wise like Bees do grow Healing and rich though this they do most slow Because most choicely for as great a store Have we of Books as Bees of herbs or more And the great task to try then know the good To discern weeds and Judge of wholsome Food Is a rare scant performance for Man dyes Oft e're 't is done while the bee feeds and flyes But you were all choice Flow'rs all set and drest By old sage florists who well knew the best And I amidst you all am turn'd a weed Not wanting knowledge but for want of heed Then thank thy self wild fool that would'st not be Content to know what was to much for thee Looking back FAir shining Mountains of my pilgrimage And flow'ry Vales whose flow'rs were stars The days and nights of my first happy age An age without distast and warrs When I by thoughts ascend your Sunny heads And mind those sacred midnight Lights By which I walk'd when curtain'd Rooms and Beds Confin'd or seal'd up others sights O then how bright And quick a light Doth brush my heart and scatter night Chasing that shade Which my sins made While I so spring as if I could not fade How brave a prospect is a bright Back-side Where flow'rs and palms refresh the Eye And days well spent like the glad East abide Whose morning-glories cannot dye The Shower WAters 〈◊〉 eternal Springs The dew that 〈◊〉 the Doves wings O welcom welcom to the sad Give dry dust drink drink that makes glad Many fair 〈◊〉 many Flowr's Sweeten'd with rich and gentle showers Have I enjoy'd and down have run Many a fine and shining Sun But never till this happy hour Was blest with such an Evening-shower Discipline FAir prince of life lights living well Who hast the keys of death and hell If the mule man despise thy day Put chains of darkness in his way Teach him how deep how various are The Councels of thy love and care When Acts of grace and a long peace Breed but rebellion and displease Then give him his own way and will Where lawless he may run until His own choice hurts him and the sting Of his 〈◊〉 sins full sorrows bring 〈◊〉 Heav'n and Angels hopes and mirth Please not the mole so much as Earth Give him his Mine to dig or dwell And one sad Scheme of hideous hell The Ecclipse WHither O whither did'st thou fly When I did grieve thine holy Eye When thou did'st mourn to see me lost And all thy Care and Councels crost O do not grieve where e'er thou art Thy grief is an undoing smart Which doth not only pain but break My heart and makes me blush to speak Thy anger I could kiss and will But O! thy grief thy grief doth kill Affliction O Come and welcom Come refine For Moors if wash'd by thee will shine Man blossoms at thy touch and he When thou draw'st blood is thy Rose-tree Crosses make strait his crooked ways And Clouds but cool his dog-star days Diseases too when by thee blest Are both restoratives and rest Flow'rs that in Sun-shines riot still Dye scorch'd and sapless though storms kill The fall is fair ev'n to desire Where in their sweetness all expire O come pour on what calms can be So fair as storms that appease thee Retirement FResh fields and woods the Earth's fair face God's foot-stool and mans dwelling-place I ask not why the first Believer Did love to be a Country liver Who to secure pious content Did pitch by groves and wells his tent Where he might view the boundless skie And all those glorious lights on high With flying meteors mists and show'rs Subjected hills trees meads and Flow'rs And ev'ry minute bless the King And wise Creatour of each thing I ask not why he did remove To happy Mamre's holy grove Leaving the Citie' s of the 〈◊〉 To Lot and his successless train All various Lusts in Cities still Are found they are the Thrones of Ill. The dismal Sinks where blood is spill'd Cages with much uncleanness fill'd But rural shades are the sweet fense Of piety and innocence They are the Meek's calm region where Angels descend and rule the sphere Where heav'n lyes Leiguer and the Dove Duely as Dew comes from above If Eden be on Earth at all 'T is that which we the Country call The Revival UNfold unfold take in his light Who makes thy Cares more short than night The Joys which with his Day-star rise He deals to all but drowsy Eyes And what the men of this world miss Some drops and dews of future bliss Hark! how his winds have chang'd their note And with warm whispers call thee out The frosts are past the storms are gone And backward life at last comes on The lofty groves in express Joyes Reply unto the Turtles voice And here in dust and dirt O here The Lilies of his love appear The Day-spring EArly while yet the dark was gay And gilt with stars more trim than day Heav'ns Lily and the Earth's chast Rose The green immortal BRANCH arose And in a solitary place Bow'd to his father his bless'd face
plagues poor shepheards since have known And Ridles more which 〈◊〉 times must own While on his pipe young Hylas plaid and made Musick as solemn as the song anacute d shade But the curs'd owner from the trembling top To the firm brink did all those branches lop And in one hour what many years had bred The pride and beauty of the plain lay dead The undone Swains in sad songs mourn'd their loss While storms cold winds did improve the Cross. But Nature which like vertue scorns to yield Brought new recruits and succours to the Field For by next Spring the check'd Sap wak'd from sleep And upwards still to feel the Sun did creep Till at those wounds the hated Hewer made There sprang a thicker and a fresher shade Men. So thrives afflicted Truth and so the light When put out gains a value from the Night How glad are we when but one twinkling Star Peeps betwixt clouds more black than is our Tar And Providence was kind that order'd this To the brave Suff'rer should be solid bliss Nor is it so till this short life be done But goes hence with him and is still his Sun Da. Come Shepherds then and with your greenest Bays Refresh his dust who lov'd your learned Lays Bring here the florid glories of the Spring And as you strew them pious Anthems sing Which to your children and the years to come May speak of Daphnis and be never dumb While prostrate I drop on his quiet Urn My Tears not gifts and like the poor that mourn With green but humble Turfs write o're his Hearse For false foul Prose-men this fair Truth in Verse Here Daphnis sleeps while the great watch goes Of loud and restless Time takes his repose Fame is but noise all Learning but a thought Which one admires another sets at nought Nature mocks both and Wit still keeps adoe but Death brings knowledge and assurance too Men. Cast in your Garlands strew on all the flow'rs Which May with smiles or April seeds with show'rs Let this days Rites as stedfast as the Sun Keep pace with Time and through all Ages run The publick character and famous Test Of our long sorrows and his lasting rest And when we make procession on the plains Or 〈◊〉 keep the Holyday of Swains Let 〈◊〉 still be the recorded name And solemn honour of our feasts and fame For though the Isis and the prouder Thames Can shew his reliques lodg'd hard by their streams And must for ever to the honour'd name Of Noble Murrey chiefly owe that fame Yet here his Stars first saw him and when fate Beckon'd him hence it knew no other date Nor will these vocal Woods and Valleys fail Nor Isca's lowder Streams this to bewail But while Swains hope and Seasons change will glide With moving murmurs because Daphnis di'd Da. A fatal sadness such as still foregoes Then runs along with publick plagues and woes Lies heavy on us and the very light Turn'd Mourner too hath the dull looks of Night Our vales like those of Death a darkness shew More sad than Cypress or the gloomy Yew And on our hills where health with height complied Thick drowsie Mists hang round and there reside Not one short parcel of the tedious year In its old dress and beauty doth appear Flowr's hate the Spring and with a sullen bend Thrust down their Heads which to the Root still tend And though the Sun like a cold Lover peeps A little at them still the Days-eye sleeps But when the Crab and Lion with acute And active Fires their sluggish heat recruit Our grass straight russets and each scorching day Drinks up our Brooks as fast as dew in May. Till the sad Heardsman with his Cattel faints And empty Channels ring with loud Complaints Men. Heaven's just displeasure our unjust ways Change Natures course bring plagues dearth and decays This turns our lands to Dust the skies to Brass Makes old kind blessings into curses pass And when we learn unknown and forraign Crimes Brings in the vengeance due unto those Climes The dregs and puddle of all ages now Like Rivers near their fall on us do flow Ah happy Daphnis who while yet the streams Ran clear warm though but with setting beams Got through and saw by that declining light His toil 's and journey's end before the Night Da. A night where darkness lays her chains and Bars And feral fires appear instead of Stars But he along with the last looks of day Went hence and setting Sun-like past away What future storms our present sins do hatch Some in the dark discern and others watch Though foresight makes no Hurricane prove mild Fury that 's long fermenting is most wild But see while thus our sorrows we discourse Phoebus hath finish't his diurnal course The shades prevail each Bush seems bigger grown Darkness like State makes small things swell and frown The Hills and Woods with Pipes and Sonnets round And bleating sheep our Swains drive home resound Men. What voice from yonder Lawn tends hither heark 'T is Thyrsis calls I hear Lycanthe bark His Flocks left out so late and weary grown Are to the Thickets gone and there laid down Da. Menalcas haste to look them out poor sheep When day is done go willingly to sleep And could bad Man his time spend as they do He might go sleep or die as willing too Men. Farewel kind Damon now the Shepheards Star With beauteous looks smiles on us though from far All creatures that were favourites of day Are with the Sun retir'd and gone away While feral Birds send forth unpleasant notes And night the Nurse of thoughts sad thoughts promotes But Joy will yet come with the morning-light Though sadly now we bid good night Da. good night Eugenii Philalethis VIRI INSIGNISSIMI ET Poetarum Sui Saeculi meritò Principis VERTUMNUS ET CYNTHIA c. Q. Horat. Qui praegravat artes Infra se positas extinctus ambitur LONDINI Impensis Roberti Pawlett M. DC LXXVIII Ornatissimo viro Domino MATHAEO HERBERT Institutori suo imprimis suspiciendo ACcipe primitias dilecte Herberte tuosque Quales formâsti docte Mathaee modos Te mea dissimili sequitur conamine Musa Pallet ut ad vivas picta tabella rosas Sic quae mella sacri congessit Alumnus Hymetti Servant libati Suavia prima Thymi Aliud Quae viridi Mathaee fuit tibi messis in herba Hoc te compensat faenore cocta Ceres Non potes in nostri furtivis litibus aevi Dicere te segetem non decimâsse meam E. P. Vertumnus HEus Vertumne adsum tumuloque incumbo rapinam Commeditans Tu quos incepit dextra tumultus Fugisti partamque tenes in funere pacem Non liceat dormire Ego te cineremque superbum Excutiam somno Non hic Equites peditesque Circumstant nulla est lateri Rhomphaea Satelles Nullus nulla humeris jactatis laena lacertis Fluctuat nostrum deridet murice pannum Praeterît
minds And yet do what thou can'st to hide A bad trees fruit will be describ'd For that foul guilt which first took place In his dark heart now damns his face And makes those Eyes where life should dwell Look like the pits of Death and Hell Bloud whose rich purple shews and seals Their faith in Moors in him reveals A blackness at the heart and is Turn'd Inke to write his faithlesness Only his lips with bloud look red As if asham'd of what they sed Then since he wears in a dark skin The shadows of his hell within Expose him no more to the light But thine own Epitaph thus write Here burst and dead and unregarded Lyes Fida's heart O well rewarded To the Editor of the matchless Orinda LOng since great witts have left the Stage Unto the Drollers of the age And noble numbers with good sense Are like good works grown an offence While much of verfe worse than old story Speaks but Jack-Pudding or John-Dory Such trash-admirers made us poor And Pyes turn'd Poets out of door For the nice Spirit of rich verse Which scorns absurd and low commerce Although a flame from heav'n if shed On Rooks or Daws warms no such head Or else the Poet like bad priest Is seldom good but when opprest And wit as well as piety Doth thrive best in adversity For since the thunder left our air Their Laurels look not half so fair However 't is 't were worse than rude Not to profess our gratitude And debts to thee who at so low An Ebbe do'st make us thus to flow And when we did a Famine fear Hast blest us with a fruitful year So while the world his absence mourns The glorious Sun at last returns And with his kind and vital looks Warms the cold Earth and frozen brooks Puts drowsie nature into play And rids impediments away Till Flow'rs and Fruits and spices through Her pregnant lap get up and grow But if among those sweet things we A miracle like that could see Which nature brought but once to pass A Muse such as Orinda was Phoebus himself won by these charms Would give her up into thy arms And recondemn'd to kiss his Tree Yield the young Goddess unto thee Upon sudden news of the much lamented death of Judge Trevers LEarning and Law your Day is done And your work too you may be gone Trever that lov'd you hence is fled And Right which long lay Sick is dead Trever whose rare and envied part Was both a wise and winning heart Whose sweet civilitys could move Tartars and Goths to noblest love Bold Vice and blindness now dare act And like the gray groat pass though crack't While those sage lips lye dumb and cold VVhose words are well-weigh'd and tried gold O how much to descreet desires Differs pure Light from foolish fires But nasty Dregs out last the Wine And after Sun-set Gloworms shine To Etesia for Timander the first Sight What smiling Star in that fair Night Which gave you Birth gave me this Sight And with a kind Aspect tho keen Made me the Subject you the Queen That sparkling Planet is got now Into your Eyes and shines below Where nearer force and more acute It doth dispence without dispute For I who yesterday did know Loves fire no more than doth cool Snow with one bright look am since undone Yet must adore and seek my Sun Before I walk'd free as the wind And if but stay'd like it unkind I could like daring Eagles gaze And not be blinded by a face For what I saw till I saw thee Was only not deformity Such shapes appear compar'd with thine In Arras or a tavern-sign And do but mind me to explore A fairer piece that is in store So some hang Ivy to their Wine To signify there is a Vine Those princely Flow'rs by no storms vex'd Which smile one day and droop the next The gallant Tulip and the Rose Emblems which some use to disclose Bodyed Idea's their weak grace Is meer imposture to thy face For nature in all things but thee Did practise only Sophistry Or else she made them to express How she could vary in her dress But thou wert form'd that we might see Perfection not Variety Have you observ'd how the Day-star Sparkles and smiles and shines from far Then to the gazer doth convey A silent but a piercing Ray So wounds my love but that her Eys Are in Effects the better Skys A brisk bright Agent from them Streams Arm'd with no arrows but their beams And with such stillness smites our hearts No noise betrays him nor his darts He working on my easie Soul Did soon persuade and then controul And now he flyes and I conspire Through all my blood with wings of fire And when I would which will be never With cold despair allay the fever The spiteful thing Etesia names And that new-fuells all my flames The Character to Etesia GO catch the Phoenix and then bring A quill drawn for me from his wing Give me a Maiden-beautie's Bloud A pure rich Crimson without mudd In whose sweet Blushes that may live Which a dull verse can never give Now for an untouch'd spottles white For blackest things on paper write Etesia at thine own Expence Give me the Robes of innocence Could we but see a Spring to run Pure Milk as sometimes Springs have done And in the Snow-white streams it sheds Carnations wash their bloudy heads While ev'ry Eddy that came down Did as thou do'st both smile and frown Such objects and so fresh would be But dull Resemblances of thee Thou art the dark worlds Morning-star Seen only and seen but from far Where like Astronomers we gaze Upon the glories of thy face But no acquaintance more can have Though all our lives we watch and Crave Thou art a world thy self alone Yea three great worlds refin'd to one Which shews all those and in thine Eyes The shining East and Paradise Thy Soul a Spark of the first Fire Is like the Sun the worlds desire And with a nobler influence Works upon all that claim to sense But in 〈◊〉 hath no fever And in frosts is chearful ever As Flowr's besides their curious dress Rich odours have and 〈◊〉 Which tacitely infuse desire And ev'n oblige us to admire Such and so full of innocence Are all the Charms thou do'st dispence And like fair Nature without Arts At once they seize and please our hearts O thou art such that I could be A lover to Idolatry I could and should from heav'n stray But that thy life shews mine the way And leave a while the Diety To serve his Image here in thee To Etesia looking from her Casement at the full Moon See you that beauteous Queen which no age 〈◊〉 Her Train is Azure set with golden flames My brighter fair fix on the East your Eyes And view that bed of Clouds whence she doth rise Above all others in that one short hour Which most concern'd in she had greatest 〈◊〉 This