Selected quad for the lemma: death_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
death_n	heart_n	life_n	sin_n	8,563	5	4.4434	4	true

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A93121	Salmacis, Lyrian & Sylvia, forsaken Lydia, the rape of Helen, a comment thereon, with severall other poems and translations. By Edvvard Sherburne Esquire.	Preti, Girolamo, 1582-1626.; Marino, Giambattista, 1569-1625.; Colluthus, of Lycopolis.; Saint-Amant, Marc Antoine Gérard, sieur de, 1594-1661.; Sherburne, Edward, Sir, 1618-1702.	1651 (1651)	Wing S3223; Thomason E1217_3; ESTC R203560	66,602	185

feud enkindled 'twixt the French And German with their bloud attempt to quench Now in the open Sea they proudly ride And the soft Chrystall with rude Oares divide Perfidious Armillus at once tore His Heart from Lydia Anchor from the shore 'T was Night and Aged Proteus had driv'n home His numerous Heard fleec't with the Seas white fome The Winds were laid to rest the fishes slept The wearied world a generall silence kept No noise save from the Surges hollow caves Or liquid silver of the justling waves Whilst the bright Lanthorns shot such trembling light As dazled all the twinkling eyes of Night The faire Inamorata who from farre Had spy'd the Ship which her hearts treasure bare Put off from Land and now quite disembay'd Her Cables coiled and her Anchors weigh'd Whilst gentle gales her swelling sailes did court To turn in scorn her Poop upon the Port With frantick speed from the detested Town To the deserted shore comes hurrying down As the Idaean Shepheard stood amaz'd Whilst on the sacred Ravisher he gaz'd Who snatch'd the beauteous Trojan youth away And wafted through the yeelding Clouds his prey Or as that Artist whose bold hand durst shape Wings to his shoulders desperately to scape A loathed servitude through untrac'd skies Creets King pursu'd with fierce yet wondring Eyes The flying Navy Lydia so beheld Her Eyes with Teares her Heart with Passion swell'd In sighs to these she gave continuall vent And those in brinish streames profusely spent But tears and sighs alas bestowes in vain Borne by the sportive Wind to the deaf Main The Main who griefe inexorably mocks As she her self is scorn'd by steady Rocks O what a black Eclipse did straight disguise In Clouds the Sunshine of her lovely Eyes She tore her Cheeks Hair Garments and imprest Marks of his falshood on her guiltlesse breast She cals on her disloyall Lovers Name And sends such sad loud Accents to reclame The Fugitive as if at every cry Her weary soul forth with her voice would fly Whither ah Cruell There full grief represt Her Tongue and taught her Eyes to weep the rest Whither ah Cruell from the hollow side Of the next Rock the Vocall Nymph replied In Tears and Sighs the Water and the Aire Contend which in her sorrowes most shall share And the sad Sea hoarse with incessant grones Wakens her faint grief and supplyes her mones Oh stop kind Zephyre but one minutes space She cries the swelling Sailes impetuous race That my expiring groanes may reach the eare Of him who flyes from her he will not heare Perhaps though whilst alive I cannot please My dying Cryes his Anger may appease And my last Fall Trophey of his Disdain May yeeld delight and his lost Love regain Receive my heart in this extreme farewell Thou in whom Cruelty and Beauty dwell With Thee it fled but what alas for me Is it to lose my Heart who have lost Thee Thou art my better selfe Thou of my heart The soul more than the soul that moves it art And if thou sentence me to suffer death My Life to Thee let me resign my breath Alas I doe not aske to live content That were a blessing me Fate never meant All that my wishes aime at is that I And that 's but a poore wish Content may dye And if my heart by Thee already slain Some reliques yet of a loath'd life retain Oh let them by thy pitty find release And in thy Armes breath forth their last in Peace No greater happinesse than Death I crave So in thy dearest sight I death may have And if thy hand arm'd with relentlesse Pride Shall the small thread of my poor Life divide What Pleasure than that Sorrow would be higher VVhen I in Paradice at least expire And so at once the different Arrowes prove Of Death from thy hand from thy Eyes of Love Ah! if so pleas'd thou art with Wars alarmes If that be it that cals thee from my Armes If thou aspir'st by some advent'rous toiles To raise proud Trophyes deckt with glorious spoiles Why fondly dost thou seek for these elsewhere Why leav'st thou me a pris'ner to despair Turn nor thy willing Captive thus forsake And thou shalt all my Victories partake Though I to thy dear Eyes a Captive be Thousands of Lovers are no lesse to me Unhappy who contend and sue for sight Of that which thou unkindly thus dost slight Is 't not a high attempt that can comprize Within one Act so many Victories To triumph over Triumphs and subdue At once the Victor and the Vanquish'd too But if to stay with me thou dost refuse And the rude Company of Souldiers choose Yet give me leave to goe along with Thee And in the Army thy Attendant be Love though a child and blind the Wars hath known Can handle Armes and buckle Armour on And thou shalt see my courage will disdain Save of thy Death all fear to entertain I will securely 'midst the arm'd Troops run Venus hath been Mars' his-Companion And though the heart in thy obdurate Breast Be with an Adamantine Corslet drest Yet I in stead to guard thee from all harm With my own hands will thy fair body arm And the Reward Love did from me detain In peace in War shall by this service gain And if it fortune that thou undergoe Some dangerous hurt by the prevailing Foe I sadly by thy side will sit to keep Thee company and as thou groan'st will weep My Sorrow with thy Anguish shall comply I will thy Bloud and thou my Tears shalt dry Thus by an equall sympathy of pure Affections we each others wounds will cure Perhaps when he this sweet effect of Love Shall see the happy President may move The stubborn Enemy more mild to grow And to so soft a yoak his stiffe neck bow Who by himself gladly betraid to thine Shall willingly his own Command resigne So by a way of Conquest strangely new Thou shalt at once Love Armes and Soules subdue Ah most unhappy he to these sad cries Inexorable his deafe eare denies And far more cruell than the rough Seas are Laughs at my sighs and slights my juster Prayer See whilst thou spreadst thy sailes to catch the Wind What a sad Object thou hast left behind Of War alas why dost thou goe in quest Thou leav'st a fiercer War within my Breast Thou sly'st thy Country and more happy state To seek in some strange Land a stranger Fate And under forraign Climes and unknown Stars T' encounter hazards of destructive Wars Eager to thrust thy self lavish of breath Upon Disasters Dangers Bloud and Death Changing ah too unwary too unwise Thy certain Joyes for an uncertain Prize Can it be true thou more thy self should'st please With busie troubles than delightfull ease And lik'st th' enraged Deeps rough toiles above The calmer pleasures and sweet sports of Love Canst thou from a soft bosome fly ah lost To gentlenesse to be on rude Waves tost And rather choose in Seas a

should still forecast as Terence shows Th' Event of Business whether good or bad E'r w'undertake it where may best be had Conveniency for Planting where to build When to wage War and where to pitch a Field Nor unconsiderately take in hand Or great or small Things for that makes a stand In the free Progress of all new designs In which there 's nothing Policy injoyns Like Consultation hence it is that they Who use it not Chance does not Counsell sway But I retire whilst you with better Fate Imploy your Thoughts how to uphold your State The Sentences of those seven Sages comprehended in as many Septenaries Bias Prieneus VVHat 's Man's chief good a Mind that right doth know What 's his chief Ill Man his own greatest Foe Who 's rich he who 's contented Who poor He Who Covets A Wives best Dowr Chastity What VVoman's chaste whom Fame dares not belie VVho 's the VVise man who can but doth no Ill The Fool He who cannot yet hath the VVill Pittacus Mitylenaeus NOne knows to speak who knows not to refrain 'Fore many bad one good Man's Praise retain He 's mad who envies others happiness So she who joys in other Mens distress The Laws thou dost impose thy self obey VVhen Times are prosperous store of Friends provide VVhen they are bad but in a few confide Cleobulus Lindius THe more thou canst 'less wish to do The spite Of Fortune oft doth on the guiltless light None long is happy in Impiety In others much nought in thy self pass by The good Man's Friend is still the bad Man's Foe Our Father's merits want of their due Fame And oft our Childrens Portion is but shame Beriander Corinthius DEcent and Profitable ne'r dissent The happier Man still the more Provident 'T is ill to wish 't is worse to fear Death we Should make a Virtue of Necessity He who is fear'd by many many feares VVhen Fortune's kind dread thy advanced height And scorn to sink yet when she shows her spight Solon Atheniensis LIfe then is happy when 't is consummate VVed with thy like Disparity breeds hate Confer not Honours casually A friend Convince in private publikely commend 'T is more to be than be made Noble far If Fates decrees are sure in vain We fly them If they are not in vain We fear to try them Chilo Lacedaemonius FEard by Inferious nor by betters scorn'd Let me not live Oft of thy Death be warn'd And Health Misfortunes by thy own defeat Or friends Advice The good thou dost forget But that which thou receiv'st remember still Age that resembles Youth doth gratefull come Youth that resembles Age is burdensome Thales Milesius ABout to sin thy self though none else fear Life dies the glory of a good Death ne'r What thou intend'st to do forbear to tell To fear what thou canst not o'rcome's a Hell A just Reproof does good though from a Foe But a false Praise does harm though from a Friend Nilnimium satis est bids us here end Amphion or a City well ordered Casimer FOrraign Customes from your Land Thebans by fair Laws command And your good old Rites make known Unto your own Piety your Temples grace Justice in your Courts have Place Truth Peace Love in every Street Each other meet Banish Vice Walls guard not Crimes Vengeance o'r tall Bulwarks climbs O'r each Sin A Nemesis Still waking is Truth resembling craft Profane Thirst of Empire and of Gain Luxury and idle ease Banish all these Private Parsimony fill The Publike Purse Arms only Steel Know and no more Valour fights cold In plunder'd Gold VVar or Peace do you approve VVith united Forces move Courts which many Collumes rear Their falls less fear Safer Course those Pilots run VVho observe more Stars than One Ships with double Anchors ty'd Securer ride Strength united firm doth stand Knit in an eternall Band But proud Subjects private hate Ruins a State This as good Amphion sings To his Harps well-tuned strings It 's swift Streams clear Dirce stopt Cytheron hopt Stones did leap about the Plains Rocks did skip to hear his Strains And the Groves the Hills did crown Came dancing down VVhen he ceas'd the Rocks and VVood Like a VVall about him stood VVhence fair Thebes which seven Gates close Of Brass arose Vertue improv'd by suffering 'T Is but the Body that blind Fortunes spight Can chain to Earth the nobler Soul doth slight Her servill Bonds and takes to Heaven her flight So through dark clouds Heaven lightens whilst the shade Is as a foyl to its bright splendour made And Stars with greater Lustre Night invade So sparkle Flints when strook so Metals find Hardness from hammering and the closer bind So Flames increase the more supprest by VVind And as the Grindstone to unpolish'd Steel Gives Edge and Lustre so my Mind I feel VVhetted and glaz'd by Fortunes turning VVheel To Mr Stanley on his unimitable Poems THe Stagirite who Poesie defines An Imitation had he read thy Lines And thy rich Fancy known he would have then Recall'd the learned Error of his Pen And have confest in his convicted State Nought those could equall this would imitate VVhich from no forraign Supplement doth spring Nor any Stand but its own Height take VVing And but that We should seem so to misprise The Influence of Chariessa's Eyes VVe should not think Love did these Flames inspire Rather that thou taught'st Love this noble Fire And by a generous VVay thy hopes t' improve Shew'dst her before thou didst how thou could'st love And the old common Method didst invert First made her Mistris of thy Brain then Heart Some Phantisies growth may from their Subjects take Thine doth not Subjects find but subjects make VVhose numerous strains we vainly strive to praise 'Less We could ours high as thy Phant'sie raise Large Praise we might give some with small Expence Of Wit cry Excellent how praise Excellence The Painters Fate is ours his hand may grace Or take a bad scarse hit a beauteous Face Nor can our Art a sitting value sit Upon thy noble Courtesie of Wit Which to so many Toungs doth lend that store Of pleasing sweetnes which they lack'd before Th' Iberian Roman and the fluent Greek The nimble French and the smooth Thuscan seek For severall Graces from thy Pen alone Which that affoords to all these Toungs in One Whose forraign Wealth transferr'd improv'd by thine Doth with a fair Increase of Lustre shine Like Gems new set upon some richer Foyle Or Roses planted in a better Soyle If 'bove all Lawrels then thy Merits rise What can this Sprig which while 't is offer'd dies Add to the Wreath that does adorn thy Brows No Bayes will snit with that but thy own Bowghs On his Translation of Oronta FLames rescu'd fair Oronta from the Pow'r Of an insulting Thracian Conquerour The Fame of which brave Action Preti's Rime Freed from the greater Tyranny of Time Yet in that Freedome she lesse glories then In being thus made Captive

Floud Whose fall as him the breaking Waters take With a white foame all silvers o'r the Lake Where as he swims and his fair Arms now bends Now their contracted Nerves again extends He the Nymphs Heart that peeps behind an Oake Wounds from that Ivory Bow at every stroak Into another Form he then converts The Motion of his Arms and like to Darts Now this now that through the cleer Waves does shoot His Hand in Motion answer'd by his Foot For as he this Contracts he that extends And when this forward that he backward sends Whilst through the streams his purer Limbs like snow Or Lillies through transparent Chrystall show His flowing Hair floating like that rich Fleece Which the first Ship from Colchos brought to Greece The Nymph at this stands as of sense quite void Or as no Sence but Seeing she enjoy'd At last from her full Brest of its close fire The sparks these broken Accents did expire O why as Arethusa or the Joy Of Galatea cannot I sweet Boy Melt to a floud for thee then my fair Sun Thou might'st to bath thee to my Bosome run More would sh' have said but her full Passion stopt Her Door of Speech and her Eyes Floodgates op't Struck with Despair so dead she scarce appears To breath or live but by her sighs and tears Yet though her silent Tongue no Words impart Her speaking Thoughts discours'd thus with her heart Fond Salmacis why slag thy hopes thy Mind What fears deject on nor be e'r declin'd But boldly thy fair Enemy assail See! thy desired Prey 's within the Pale And Love perhaps in pitty of thy Pain Offers what was deny'd thee by disdain Be resolute and him whose conquering Eyes Made thee his Captive late now make thy Prize Fear not for pardon justly hope he may Who plunders him that does deny to pay Thus she rekindling her half-quench'd desires Her Cheeks with Blushes heart with boldness fires Then forward moves a little and anon Full speed unto the Lake does madly run But in the mid'st of her Careere repents And stops suspended 'twixt two cross intents Like to a wavering Ballance on afraid Back loth to go and yet to either sway'd Now she advances then again retreats Her fears now conquers then her hopes defeats Struck with Loves powerfull Thyrsus at the last True Maenad-like her lighter Robes off cast She hurries to the Lake then in she skips And in her wanton Arms th' unwilling clips He who Loves Fires ne'r felt in his cold Brest With fear at such a strange surprize possess'd For help began to cry when she at this Ah peace saies and his Mouth stop'd with a kiss Yet strugg'ling he her Wishes did deny And from her shunn'd Embraces strove to fly But whil'st he labours to get loose t' his Brest She faster cleaves and his Lips harder prest So when Joves Bird a Snake hath truss'd his Wings The more that plies the more that 'bout 'em clings And leaves it doubtfull to the Gazers view To tell which more is Pris'ner of the two Fearfull to lose yet her new-gotten prize The Nymph to heaven sighing erects her Eyes And shall my Love saies she triumph in vain Nor other Trophy than a bare kiss gain O Jove if what Fame sings of thee be true If e'r thou did'st a Bulls fierce shape indue And on thy Back from the Phaenician shore Through Seas thy Amorous Theft in Triumph bore Assist my Vows and grant that I may prove As happy in this Conquest of my Love No force let our Embraces e'r disjoyn Brest unto Brest unite our souls entwine Tye heart to heart and let the knitting charmes Sweet kisses be the Fetters our soft Arms Or if thou hast decreed that we must part Let that Divorce divide life from my Heart Jove heard her Prayers and suddenly as strange Made of them both a mutuall Interchange And by an undiscern'd conjunction Two late divided Bodies knit in One Her Body straight a Manly Vigor felt And his did to a Female softness melt Yet thus united they with difference Retain'd their proper Reason Speech and Sence He liv'd and she appart yet each in either Both one might well be said yet that One neither This Story by a Rivers side as they Sate and discours'd the tedious hours away Amintas to the coy Iole told Then adds O thou more fair in Love more cold Than he Heaven yet may make thee mine in spite That can such Differents Ice and fire unite This with a Sigh the Shepheard spake whilst she With a coy smile mock'd his simplicity But now the setting Sun poasting away Put both an End to their Discourse and Day FINIS The Metamorphosis of LYRIAN and SYLVIA by St Amant Out of French UNder that pleasant Clime where Nature plac'd Those Islands with the name of Happy grac'd There liv'd a young and gentle Shepheard late And had he never lov'd too fortunate His Name was Lyrian she whose looks enthral'd His amorous heart was the fair Sylvia call'd The Natives there mongst whom still lives his Name Nor shall the Waste of time impair it's Fame Report he bare for sweetness of his Song The Prize from all Apollo's learned Throng Yet nor his Voice nor Worth that did exceed And ev'n in Envy Admiration breed Could e't move her that o'r his heart did raign To pleasing Joys to turn his amorous pain The Cheerfull fields and Solitary Groves Once loyall Secretaries to his Loves Are still the Witnesses and still shall be Of his chaste thoughts and firm fidelity For they alone were conscious of his Grief They only gave his Wonded Soul Relief When with the Weight of his sad Woes opprest They pittying heard him ease in Plaints his Brest Ye Gods how oft resolv'd he yet declin'd Although he felt his heart with flames calcin'd Before those Eyes h' ador'd so to display His Griefes Such Modesty his Soul did sway And though h' had learn'd and knew to suffer much Yet were his Manners and Discretion such Silence should first in death have quench'd his flame E'r he 'ld have rudely voic'd it unto fame Nor had it yet to any had not Stone And stocks discover'd it been ever known Which for on them he us'd his Plaints t' incise By chance presented it to Sylvia's Eyes This seen in her does Scorn and Anger move O heavens is 't possible that such a Love She should despise and him who had profest Himself her Captive as her Foe detest Or that Love's Magick Characters his hand Had grav'd should in her Eye for Cyphers stand Or she should read them yet with so much spight Ne'r more to see them 'less to raze them quite Ah 't is too true nor's that sufficient Unless her Tongue to her hard heart consent And 'gainst her faithfull Love with cruell Breath Pronounce the rigid sentence of his Death What said he not his Passion to excuse What flourishes us'd not his willing Muse To prove his Love of which the noble

ground Was her Perfections could no Crime be found If neither Reasons self nor Justice ought Those for which Heaven is lov'd as Crimes be thought That the Worlds Soveraign Planet which the Earth And Mortals Fates does govern from their Birth By firm Decrees inrolled in the Skies Had destin'd him a Servant to her Eyes And could his Will be lead another way Yet being forc'd he could not disobey So that his Soul in this her Captiv'd state Did only yeeld to her impulsive Fate Not that said he he murmur'd at his Chains But pleas'd sat down and blest his rigorous Pains Not but his Yoak so willingly he bare That Liberty a greater Bondage were Not but in spight of his malicious fate In crossing all his Joys so obstinate He should unforc'd ev'n to the Grave affect That Beauty which his Love did so neglect Yet these his Reasons so well urg'd so fair With her that will hear none no Reasons are They more incense her yet for fear she might Be softned she betook her self to flight Such were the winning Graces of his Tongue Proving his Love did not her Beauty wrong How oft since that by all fair means he tri'd Whil'st he the Gods with Sacrifices ply'd To bring the humorous Nymph unto his Bent And make her too obdurate Heart relent His Passions Sighs and Tears were ready still As the officious Agents of his Will To work her to a sense of his hard State But 'lass his hopes grew still more desperate Nay ev'n his voice of so divine a strain So moving mov'd in her nought but disdain Six years he liv'd perplex'd in this distress Without the least Apparence of success When he by chance as she a Stag pursu'd Encounter'd her who e'r the Queen hath view'd Of Wood-Nymphs Cynthia a hunting goe After the Bore arm'd with her shafts and Bow May then imagine the diviner Grace The Looks the Habit Stature and the Pace Of beautious Sylvia as she tripping came Into the VVoods pursuing of her Game Soon as poor Lyrian half dead with Love Had spy'd her in that solitary Grove For whom his wounded heart so long had bled He with these words pursues her as she fled Art thou resolv'd then Sylvia 'gainst my Cries Thine Ears to close and 'gainst my Verse thine Eyes That Verse which Fame unto thy Life does give And must I dye 'cause I have made thee live Eternally Seven years expired be Since I 've been tortur'd by thy Cruelty And dost thou think that little strength supplies My heart for everlasting Torments will suffice Shall I for ever only see thee stray 'Mongst these wild VVoods more senseless yet than they Alas how weak I 'm grown with Grief I feel My feeble Legs beneath their Burden reel O stay I faint nor longer can pursue Stay and since Sense thou lack'st want Motion too Stay if for nothing else to see me dye At least vouchsafe stern Nymph to tell me why Thou cam'st into this Dark and Gloomy Place VVhere Heaven with all its Eyes can never trace Or find thee out VVas 't thy Intent the Light Of thy fair Stars thus to obscure in Night Or seek'st thou these cool shades the Ice and Snow That 's 'bout thy Heart to keep unmelted so In vain Coy Nymph thou Light and Heat dost shun VVho e'r knew cold or shade attend the Sun Ah Cruell Nymph the Rage dost thou not fear Of those wild Beasts that in these VVoods appear No no thou art secure and mayst out-vy Both them and all the VVorld for Cruelty Oh thou that gloriest in a heart of stone VVilt thou not stay yet seest as if my Moan They pittied each rough Bramble 'bout thy foot Does cling and seems t' arrest thee at my Sute Ye Gods what VVonders do you here disclose The Bramble hath more sweetness than the Rose But whether fly these idle VVords in vain Poore miserable VVretch thou dost complain After so many Ills of which I bear The sadder Marks yet in my heart Now hear Ye Gods at last and by a welcome Death A period put unto my wretched Breath Ah me I faint my spirits quite decay And yet I cannot move her heart to stay Ye hellish Deeps black Gulphs where Horror lies Open and place your selves before her Eyes Had I Hippomenes bright Fruit which stay'd The swister speed of the Schenaeian Maid They would not profit me the VVorlds round Ball Could not my cruell Fugitive Recall She is all Rock and I who am all fire Pursue her Night and Day with vain desire O Nature is it not a Prodigie To find a Rock than fire more light to be But I mistake for if a Rock she were Shee 'd answer me again as these do here Thus tyr'd with running and o'rcome with VVoe To see his Mistris should out-strip him so Poor Lyrian yeelds himself as sorrows Prize His Constancy and amorous Fervor dies Bloudy dispair entring his captiv'd Soul Does like a Tyrant all his Powers controul Then in the height of VVoe to his Relief He cals the Gods yet in the mid'st of Grief All fair Respect does still to Sylvia give To shew that ev'n in Death his Love should live He who for Daphne like Regret did prove And the horn'd God who breathless thought his Love The fair-hair'd Syrinx in his Arms he clasp'd And slender Reeds for her lov'd Body grasp'd So far remembring their like amorous Fate His unjust sufferings commiserate That both straight swore in Passion and disdain To punish the proud Author of his Pain Their powerfull Threats alike effect pursues See! that proud Beauty a Trees shape endues Each of her Hairs does sprout into a Bough And she that was a Nymph an Elm is now VVhilst thus transform'd her feet to Roots spred stuck Fast in the ground she was at last o'rtook By panting Lyrian happy yet to see Her he so priz'd within his Power to be Ye Gods then saies he who by this sad Test Have 'fore mine Eyes Natures great Power exprest Grant that to this fair Trunk which Love ne'r knew My heart may yet a Love eternall shew This having said unto the yet warm Bole He clings whilst a new Form invests his Soul VVinding in thousand twines about it whence Hee 's call'd of Love the perfect Symbole since In brief this faithfull Lover now is found An Ivy Stock which creeping from the ground About the loved stem still climbing is As if he sought her Mouth to steal a Kiss Each leafe's a heart whose colour does imply His wish obtain'd Loves Perpetuity VVhich still his strict Embraces evidence For all of him is lost but only sence And that you ●d swear remains and say to see The Elm in his Embraces hugg'd that he VVilling to keep what he had gain'd at last For fear she should escape holds her so fast FINIS Forsaken LYDIA Out of the Italian of Cavalier Marino IN Thunder now the hollow Cannon roar'd To call the farre-fam'd Warriours aboard Who that great

makes me afraid Daphnis Diana whom thou serv'st will be thy Aid Shepheardess But bearing Children will my Beauty wrong Daphnis In Children thou wilt see thy self still young Shepheardess What Dowry wilt thou give if I consent Daphnis My Flocks my Groves my Fields be thou content Shepheardess Swear that when married thou wilt ne'r forsake me Daphnis By Pan I will not so thou please to take me Shepheardess Thou 'lt give me Beds and House and Sheep to breed Daphnis Both House and Beds and the fair Flocks I feed Shepheardess What shall I to my aged Father say Daphnis He when he hears my Name will soon give way Shepheardess How art thou call'd for Names do often please Daphnis Daphnis my Name my Father 's Lycides My Mother 's Nomaea Shepheardess Of an honest Line Thou com'st nor we of no more mean than thine Daphnis Yet not so great to make your Pride aspire For as I tak 't Menalcas is your Sire Shepheardess Shew me your Stalls and Groves Daphnis Come let thine Eyes VVitness how high my Cypress Trees do rise Shepheardess Feed Goats whilst I survay the Shepheard's Bounds Daphnis Graze Bullocks whilst I shew the Nymph my Grounds Shepheardess VVhat do'st why thrust'st thy hand into my Brest Daphnis Thus thy soft swelling Bosome should be prest Shepheardess Help Pan I faint Swain take thy hand away Daphnis Fear not sweet Nymph nor tremble with dismay Shepheardess 'T will spoyle my Coat should I i' th' durt be thrown Daphnis No see on this soft hide I 'l lay thee down Shepheardess Ah Me why hast thou loos d my Virgin Zone Daphnis To Venus this be an Oblation Shepheardess Heark see some body comes I hear a Noise Daphnis The Cypress Trees are whispering of our Joyes Shepheardess Th' hast torn my Cloaths and me quite naked layd Daphnis I 'l give thee better Shepheardess VVords no deeds e'r paid Daphnis Would I could send my soul into thee now Shepheardess Oh Phoebe pardon I have broke my Vow Daphnis A Calf to Love a Bull to Venus burn Shepheardess A Maid I came a Woman shall return Daphnis And be a Mother-Nurse to pretty Boyes Shepheardess Thus intertalk'd they 'mid'st the active Joyes Of closs Embraces when at length they rose And being up to feed her Flock she goes With blushing Face but with a lightsome Heart Whilst to his Heards he no less pleas'd doth part On the Picture of Icarus in Wax Marino VVHat once did unto thee impart The means of Death by happy Art Now thee restores to life again Yet still remember to refrain Ambitious Flights nor soar too nigh The Sun of an inflaming Eye For so thou may'st scorcht by those Beams In Ashes dye as once in Streams On a Marble Statue of Nero which falling kill'd a Child Marino THis Statue bloudy Nero does present To Tyrants a sad Document Though Marble on his Basis yet so fast He stood not but he fell at last And seems as when he liv'd as cruell still He could not fall but he must kill On Paula Mart. l. 9. Epig. 5. FAin shee 'd have Priscus and who blame her can But hee 'l not have her and who 'l blame the Man On an Ill Husband and Wife Mart. l. 8. Epigr. 34. SInce both of you so like in Manners be Thou the worst Husband and the worst Wife she I wonder you no better should agree On Candidus a rich Miser Mart. l. 3. Epig. 26. Alone thou dost enjoy a fair Estate Alone rare Myrrhine Vessels golded Plate Alone rich Wines dost drink and hast for None A Heart nor Wit but for thy self alone None shares with thee it is deny'd by no man But Candidus thou hast a Wife that 's Common On Bassus a Pittifull Poet Mart. l. 5. Epigr. 53. VVHy writ'st thou of Thyestes Colchis hate Andromache or Niobes sad Fate Deucalion Bassus better far would fit Or Phaeton believe me with thy Wit On a Boy kill'd by the fall of an Icesicle Mart. l. 4. Epig. 18. VVHer streams from Vipsan Pipes Port Capen powrs And the Stones moystned are with constant show'rs A drop congeal'd to a sharp Icesicle On a Child's Throat that stood beneath it fell And when the Wretches Fate dissolv'd it had Melted away in the warm VVound it made VVhat may not cruell Fate or where will not Death find us out if VVater Throats can cut On Nestor a whisperer Mart. l. 3. Epig. 28. THou wonder'st Marius Ears should smell so Ill They may thank thee thou whisper'st in 'em still On Martinia an old old leacherous Mart. l. 3. Epigr. 32. VVHat canst thou not with an old VVoman bed Thou criest yes but thou art not old but dead VVe could with Hecuba or Niobe Make shift but then Martinia it must be Before the one Into a Bitch be turn'd t'other to Stone On Philomuse a needy Newesmonger Mart. l. 9. Epig. 35. TO gain a Supper thy shift Philomuse Is to vent lies instead of Truths for News Thou knowst what Pacorus intends to do Can'st count the German Troops and Sarmats too The Decia● General's Mandates dost profess To know and Victories before the Express How oft it rains in Aegypt thou as well And Number of the Lybian Fleet canst tell VVhom Victor in the next Quinquatrian Games Caesar will crown thy knowing Tongue proclames Come leave these shifts thou this Night Philomuse Shalt sup with Me but not a word of News On Aulus a Poet-Hater Mart. l. 8. Epig. 63. AUlus Loves Thestius him Alexis fires Perhaps he too our Hyacinth desires Go now and doubt if Poets he approves When the Delights of Poets Aulus Loves On Lentinus being troubled with an Ague Mart. l. 12. Epig. 17. LEntinus thou dost nought but sume and fret To think thy Ague will not leave thee yet Why it goes with thee bathes as thou dost do Eats Mushromes Oysters Sweet-breads wild Boar too Oft drunk by thee with Falern Wine is made Nor Caecub drinks unless with snow allay'd Tumbles in Roses dawb'd with unctuous sweets Sleeps upon Down between pure Cambrick sheets And when thus well it fares with thee wouldst thou Have it to go unto poor Damma now To Priscus Mart. l. 8. Epigr. 11. VVHy a rich Wife Priscus I will not wed Ask'st thou I would not have my Wife my Head Husbands should have superiority So Man and Wife can only equall be On Phoebus that wore leather Caps Mart. l. Epig. VVHilst thou a Kidskin Cap putt'st on To hide the Baldness of thy Crown On jested wittily who ●ed Phoebus that thou hadst shod thy Head On Horace a poor fellow Mart. l. 4. Epigr 2. HOrace alone mongst all the Company In a black Gown the Plays did lately see Whilst both the Commons and the Knights of Rome Senate and Caesar all in white did come When strait it snow'd apace so he the sight Beheld as well as all the rest in white On a Swallow torn in Peeces by her Fellowes Mart. l. 5. Epig. 67. VVHen for their winterHomes the

swallows made One 'gainst the Custome in her old Nest staid The rest at Spring return'd the Crime perceive And the offending Bird of Life bereave Late yet she suffer'd she deserv'd before But then when she in Peeces Itys tore To Apollo pursuing Daphne Auson. THrow by thy Bow nor let thy Shafts appear She flies not thee but does thy weapons fear De Erotio Puella Mart. l. 5. Epigr. 38. SHe who than down of aged Swans more fair More soft was than Galaesian Lambkins are More beautious than those Shels Lucrinus shews Or Stones which Erythr●an Waves disclose Smooth as the Elephants new polish'd Tooth VVhiter than Lillies in their Virgin Growth Or Snow new fallen the colour of whose Tresses Outvy'd the German Curles or Baetick Fleeces VVhose Breath the Pestan Rosaries excell'd The hony in Hymaettian Hives distill'd Or chafed Ambers scent with whom conferr'd The Phaenix was but thought a common Bird She she in this new Tomb yet warm doth lye VVhom the stern hand of cruell Destiny In her sixth year e'r quite expir'd snatch'd hence And with her all my best Joyes yet 'gainst all sense Paetus perswades me not to grieve for her Fye saies he whilst his hair he seems to tear Art not asham'd to mourn thus for a Slave I have a Wife laid newly in the Grave Fair rich and noble yet I live you see O what than Paetus can more hardy be No sorrow sure a heart like his can kill H' hath gain'd * ten thousand Pounds yet he lives still On Mancinus a Prating Braggart Mart. l. 4. Epig. 61. THou mad'st thy Brags that late to thee a Friend A hundred Crowns did for a Present send But four days since when with the Wits we met Thou saidst Pompilla too or I forget Gave thee a rich Suite worth a thousand more * Scarlet of Tyre with gold embroyder'd o'r And swor'st that Madam Bassa sent thee late Two Em'rald Rings the Lady Caelia Plate And yesterday when at the Play we were At comming forth thou told'st me in my Ear There fell to thee that Morning the best part Of Fourscore Pounds per Annum next thy Heart What wrong have I thy poor Friend done thee that Thou thus shouldst torture me Leave leave this Chat For pitties sake or if thou 'lt not forbear Tell me then something that I 'd gladly hear On Picens Mart. l. 8. Epig. 62. PIcens the Backside of his Book doth fill With tedious Epigrams yet takes it ill Phoebus should shew himself his Back Friend still On Caius one of large Promises but small Performances Mart. l. 10. Epig. 16. IF not to give but say so giving be Caius for giving we will vie with thee What e'r the Spaniard in Gallician Feilds Digs up what the gold Stream of Tagus yields What the tann'd Indian dives for in the deep Or in its Nest th' Arabion Bird doth keep The wealth which Tyrian Caldrons boyl receive Bll this and more but so as thou dost give To Posthumus an Ill Liver Mart. l. 5. Epigr. 58. STill still thou cry'st to morrow I 'l live well But when will this to morrow come canst tell How far is 't hence or where is 't to be found Or upon Parthian or Armenian Ground Priams or Nostors years by this 't has got I wonder for how much it might be bought Thou 'lt live to morrow 't is too late to day Hee 's wise who yesterday I liv'd can say To Thelesinus Mart. l. 3. Epigr. 40. THou think'st th' hast shewn thy self a mighty friend 'Cause at my Sute thou fifty Pounds didst lend But if thou rich for lending may'st be said So great a Friend what I who Poor repaid On Cinna a bold Suter Mart. l. 3. Epigr. 60. THou say'st 't is nothing that thou ask'st me Why If thou ask'st nothing nothing I deny The happy life To Julius Martialis Mart. l. 10. Epig. 47. THose things which make life truly blest Sweetest Martial hear exprest Wealth left and not from Labour growing A gratefull soyl a Hearth still glowing No Strife small Business Peace of Mind Quick Wit a Body well inclin'd Wise Innocence Friends of one Heart Cheap Food a Table without Art Nights which nor Cares nor Surfets know No dull yet a chaste Bedfellow Sleeps which the tedious Hours contract Be what thou mayst be nor exact Ought more nor thy last Hour of breath Fear nor with wishes hasten Death Epitaphium Glaucae Mart. l. 6. Epig. 28. HEre Meliors Freed-man known so well Who by all Rome lamented fell His dearest Patrons short-liv'd Joy Glaucias beneath this Stone doth lye Neer the Flaminian Way interr'd Chast modest whom quick Wit preferr'd And happy Forme who to twelve past Scarce one year added that his Last If Passenger thou weep'st for such a Loss Mayst thou ne'r mourn for any other Cross To Sextus Mart. l. 2. Epig. 3. YOu say y'ow nothing and 't is true you say For he ows only who hath means to pay To Maximus Mart. l. 7. Epig. 72. TH' Esquiliae a House of thine doth show Mount Aventine and the Patrician Row Hence Cybells Fane thence Vesta's thou dost view From this th' Old Jupiter from that the New Where shall I meet thee in what Quarter tell He that does every where does no where dwell To Stella Mart. l. 7. Epigr. 35. VVHen my poor Villa could not storms sustain Nor watry Jove but swam in Flouds of Rain Thou sent'st me Tyles wherewith to make a Fence 'gainst the rude Tempests sudden violence We thank thee Stella but cold Winter's near The Villa 's coverd not the Villager On Parthenopaeus Mart. l. 11. Epig. 87. THy Doctor that he may asswage the Pain Of thy sore Throat which a sharp Cough doth strain Prescribes thee Hony sweet-meats luscious Pies Or what e'r else stills fretfull Childrens cries Yet leav'st thou not thy coughing now we see 'T is no sore Throat but sweet Tooth troubles thee On Philaenus Mart. l. 11. Epigr. 102. IF how Philaenus may be stil'd A Father who ne'r got a Child thou 'd'st know Davus can tell thee it Who is a Poet and ne'r writ The Choice of his Mistris Mart. l. Epigr. I would not have a VVench with such a VVaste As might be well with a Thumb-Ring embrac'd VVhose bony Hips which out on both sides stick Might serve for Graters and whose lean Knees prick One which a saw does in her back-Bone bear And in her Rump below carries a Spear Nor would I have her yet of Bulk so grosse That weigh'd should break the Scales at th' market-cross A meer unfathom'd lump of Grease no that Like they that will 't is Flesh I love not Fat To Sextus Mart. l. 2. Epig. 55. SExtus thou will'st that I should show Thee Honour where I love would ow And I obey since 't is thy will By Me thou shalt be honour'd still But Sextus if thou'lt honour'd be Thou shalt not then be lov'd by Me On Baucis an old drunken Crone Antholog Graec. BAucis

Brest Thy Life as mine in thee doth rest Blest Virgin who in Tears half drown'd Griev'st that thy Son cannot be found The time will come when Men shall hear thee Complain that he is too too near thee When in the midd'st of hostile Bands With pierced Feet and nailed Hands Advanc'd upon a cursed Tree His naked Body thou shalt see As void of Coverture as Friends But what kind Heaven in pitty lends Thy Soul will then abhor the Light And think no Grief worse than his Sight But loe as thus she search'd and wept By chance she to the Temple stept Where her dear Son with joyfull Eyes Set mongst the Rabbins she espies And as the Light of some kind Star To a distressed Marriner So his dear sight to her appears Tost in this Tempest of her Fears But O what tongue can now impart The joy of her revived Heart The Welcome spoke in mutuall Blisses Of sweet Embraces sweeter Kisses Muse since too high for thy weak Wing It is contemplate what thou canst not sing Christus Mathaeum discipulos alloquitur LEave leave converted Publican lay down That sinfull Trash which in thy happier Race To gain a Heavenly Crown Clogs thy free Pace O what for this pale durt will not Man do Nay even now mongst you For this there 's One I see Seeks to sell Me But Times will come hereafter when for Gold I shall by more alas than One be sold Conscience INternall Cerberus whose griping fangs That gnaw the Soul are the Minds secret Pangs Thou greedy Vulture that dost gorging Tire On Hearts corrupted by impure desire Subtle and buzzing Hornet that dost ring A Peal of Horrour e'r thou giv'st the sting The Souls rough File that smoothness does impart The Hammer that does break a stony Heart The Worm that never dies the Thorn within That pricks and pains the whip and scourge of sin The voice of God in Man which without rest Doth softly cry within a troubled Breast To all Temptations is that Soul left free That makes not to it self a Curb of Me And she washed his Feet with her Teares and wiped them with the Hairs of her Head THe proud Aegyptian Queen her Roman Guest T' express her Love in Hight of State and Pleasure With Pearl dissolv'd in Gold did feast Both Food and Treasure And now dear Lord thy Lover on the fair And silver Tables of thy Feet behold Pearl in her Tears and in her Hair Offers thee Gold Good Fryday THis Day eternall Love for me Fast nail'd unto a cursed Tree Rending his fleshly Veyl did through his side A way to Paradise provide This Day Life dy'd and dying overthrew Death Sin and Satan too O happy day May sinners say But Day can it be said to be Wherein We see The bright Sun of celestiall Light O'rshadow'd with so black a Night Mary Magdalen weeping under the Cross I Thirst my dear and dying Saviour cryes These Hills are dry O drink then from my Eyes On the Receiving of the blessed Sacrament THen Nourishment our Naturall Food imparts When that into our Flesh and Blood converts But at this heavenly Banquet I Then find of strength a spirituall supply When as by Faith the sacred Food I eat My Soul converts into the Meat The Message DEar Saviour that my Love I might make known To thee I sent more Messengers than one My heart went first but came not back My Will I sent thee next and that staid with thee still Then that the better thou might'st know my Mind I sent my Int'lect that too staies behind Now my Soul 's sent Lord if that stay with thee O what a happy Carkass shall I be The Fountain STranger who e'r thou art that stoop'st to taste These sweeter streams let me arrest thy haste Nor of their fall The Murmurs though the Lyre Less sweet be stand t' admire But as you shall See from this Marble Tun The liquid Christall run And mark withall How fixt the one abides How fast the other glides Instructed thus the Difference learn to see 'Twixt Mortall Life and Immortality FINIS Errata Page 32. l. 5. read Yet I in Steel p. 36. l. 9. for guid'st read guild'st NOBILISSIMO AMICISSIMO CANDIDISSIMOQUE PECTORI ●HOMAE STANLEIO ARMIGERO {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} PRAESTANTISSmo QUO NULLUS MIHI CARIOR MEORUM ●UEM PLURIS FACIUNT NOVEM SORORE QUAM CUNCTOS ALIOS HAEC QVALIACVNQVE NON TAM MATERIE VARIA QUAM MACULIS VARIEGATA POEMATA MAXIMAE INTIMAEQVE HEV MINIMVM AMICITIAE PIGNUS DICATA DEDICATA VOLUI EDWARDVS SHERBVRNE EROTICA Philostrat. {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} * See Casaubon Lect. Theoc. c. 16. * See Causab L●ct Theoc. c. 16. * To Eunoa * See Heins. Lect. The c. 21. * See Hein Lect. Theoc cap. 21. * By the Death of h●● VVife * Altered purposely viz. the Theater ●●me Ver●●● because ●erfect in Original ●●●red