owneâ— I le prâ—ve it that no sorrow ere was knowne Reall as mine All other mourners keepe In griefe a method without forme I weepe The sonne rich in his fathers fate hath eyes Wet just as long as are the obsequies The widow formerly a yeare doth spend In her so courtly blackes But for a Friend We weepe an age and more than th' Anchorit have Our very thoughts confin'd within a Grave Chast Love who hadst thy tryumph in my flame And thou Castara who had hadst a name But for this sorrow glorious Now my verse Is lost to you and onely on Talbots herse Sadly attends And till times fatall hand Ruines what 's left of Churches there shall stand There to thy selfe deare Talbot I le repeate Thy owne brave story tell thy selfe how great Thou wert in thy mindes Empire and how all Who out-live thee see but the Funerall Of glory and if yet some vertuous be They but weake apparitions are of thee So setled were thy thoughts each action so Discreetely ordered that nor ebbe nor flow Was ere perceiv'd in thee each word mature And every sceane of life from sinne so pure That scarce in its whole history we can Finde vice enough to say thou weâ—t but man Horror to say thou wert Curst that we must Addresse our language to a little dust And seeke for Talbot there Injurious fate To lay my lifes ambition desolate Yet thus much comfort have I that I know Not how it can give such another blow Elegie 5. CHast as the Nuns first vow as fairely bright As when by death her Soule shines in full light Freed from th' eclipse of Earth each word that came From thee deare Talbot did beget a flame T'enkindle vertue which so faire by thee Became man that blind mole her face did see But now to'our eye she 's lost and if she dwell Yet on the earth she 's conffin'd in the cell Of some cold Hermit who so keepes her there As if of her the old man jealous were Nor ever showes her beauty but to some Carthusian who even by his vow is dumbe So ' mid the yce of the farre Northren sea A starre about the Articke Circle may Then ours yeeld clearer light yet that but shall Serve at the froxen Pilots funerall Thou brightest constellation to this maine Which all we sinners traffique on didst daigne The bounty of thy fire which with so cleare And constant beames did our frayle vessels steere That safely we what storme so ere bore sway Past ore the rugged Alpes of th' angry Sea But now vve sayle at randome Every rocke The folly doth of our ambition mocke And splits our hopes To every Sirens breath We listen and even court the face of death If painted ore by pleasure Every wave I ft hath delight w'embrace though 't prove a grave So ruinous is the defect of thee To th'undone world in gen'rall But to me Who liv'd one life with thine drew but one breath Possest with th' same mind thoughts 't was death And now by fate I but my selfe survive To keepe his mem'ry and my griefes alive Where shall I then begin to weepe No grove Silent and darke but is prophan'd by Love With his warme whispers and faint idle feares His busie hopes loud sighes and caselesse teares â—ach â—are is so enchanted that no breath Is listned to which mockes report of death I le tuâ—ne my griefe then inward and deplore My ruine to my selfe repeating ore The story of his vertues untill I Not write but am my selfe his Elegie Elegie 6. GOe stop the swift-wing'd moments in their flight To their yet unknowne coast goe hinder night From its approach on day and force day rise From the faire East of some bright beauties eyeâ— Else vaunt not the proud miracle of verse It hath no powre For mine from his blacke herse Redeemes not Talâ—ot who could as the breath Of winter coffin'd lyes silent as death Stealing on th' Anch'rit who even wants an eare To breath into his soft expiring prayer For had thy life beene by thy vertues spun Out to a length thou hadst ouâ—-liv'd the Sunne And clos'd the worlds great eye or were not all Our wonders fiction from thy funerall Thou hadst received new life and liv'd to be The conqueror o're death inspir'd by me But all we Poets glory in is vaine And empty triumph Art cannot regaine One poore houre lost nor reskew a small flye By a fooles finger destinate to dye Live then in thy true life great soule for set At liberty by death thou owest no debt T' exacting Nature Live freed from the sport Of time and fortune in yand ' starry court A glorious Potentate while we below But fashion wayes to mitigate our woe We follow campes and to our hopes propose Th' insulting victor not remembring those Dismembred trunkes who gave him victory By a loath'd faâ—e We covetous Merchants be And to our aâ—mes pretend treasure and sway Forgetfull of the treasons of the Sea The shootings of a wounded conscience We patiently sustaine to serve our sence With a short pleasure So we empire gaine And rule the fate of businesse the sad paine Of action we contemne and the affright Which with pale visions still attends our night Our-joyes false apparitions but our feares Are certaine prophecies And till our eares Reach that caelestiall musique which thine now So cheerefully receive we must allow No comfort to our griefes from which to be Exempted is in death to follow thee Elegie 7. THere is no peace in sinne Aeternall war Doth rage 'mong vices But all vertues are Friends 'mong themselves and choisest accents be Harsh Eccho's of their heavenly harmonie While thou didst live we did that union finde In the so faire republick of thy mind Where discord never swel'd And as we dare Affirme those goodly structures temples are Where well-tun'd quires strike zeale into the eare The musique of thy soule made us say there God had his Altars every breath a spice And each religious act a sacrifice But death hath that demolisht All our eye Of thee now sees doth like a Cittie lye Raz'd by the cannon Where is then that flame That added warmth and beauty to thy frame Fled heaven-ward to repaire with its pure fire The losses of some maim'd Seraphick quire Or hovers it beneath the world t' uphold From generall ruine and expell that cold Dull humor weakens it If so it be My sorrow yet must prayse fates charity But thy example if kinde heaven had daignd Frailty that favour had mankind regaind To his first purity For that the wit Of vice might not except 'gainst th' Ancherit As too to strickt thou didst uncloyster'd live Teaching the soule by what preservative She may from sinnes contagion live secure Though all the ayre she suckt in were impure In this darke mist of error with a cleare Vnspotted light thy vertue did appeare T' obray'd corrupted man How could the rage Of untam'd lust have scorcht
Shrinke from the pillow where it growes Or an intruding cold hath powre To scorne the perfume of the Rose Our sences like false glasses show Smooth beauty where browes wrinkled are And makes the cosen'd fancy glow Chaste vertue 's onely true and faire To my noblest Friend I. C. Esquire Sir I Haâ—e the Countries durt and manners yet I love the silence I embrace the wit And courtship flowing here in a full tide But loathe the expence the vanity and pride No place each way is happy Here I hold Commerce with some who to my eare unfold After a due oath ministred the height And greatnesse of each star shines in the state The brightnesse the eclypse the influence With others I commune who tell me whence The torrent doth of forraigne discord flow Relate each skirmish battle overthrow Soone as they happen and by rote can tell Those Germane townes even puzzle me to spell The crosse or prosperous fate of Princes they Ascribe to rashnesâ—ee cunning or delay And on each action comment with more skill Then upon Livy did old Matâ—havill O busie folly Why doe I my braine Perplex with the dull pollicies of Spaine Or quicke designes of France Why not repaire To the pure innocence o th' Country ayre And neighbor thee deare friend Who so dost give Thy thoughts to worth and vertue that to live Blâ—st is to trace thy wayes There might not we Arme against passion with Philosophie And by the aide of leisure so controule What-ere is earth in us to grow all soule Knowledge doth ignorance ingender when VVe study misteries of other men And forraigne plots Doe but in thy owne shade â—hy head upon some flowry pillow laide Kind Natures huswifery contemplate all His stratagems who laborus to inthrall The world to his great Master and you le finde Ambition mocks it selfe and grasps the wind Not conquest makes us great Blood is to deare A price for glory Honour doth appeare To statesmen like a vision in the night And jugler-like workes o th' deluded sight Th' unbusied onely wise For no respect Indangers them to error They affect Truth in her naked beauty and behold Man with an equall eye not bright in gold Or tall in title so much him they weigh As Vertue raiseth him above his clay Thus let us value things And since we find Time bends us toward death le ts in our mind Create new youth and arme against the rude Assaults of age that no dull solitude â—th ' country dead are thoughts nor busie care â—th ' towne make us not thinke where now we are And whether we are bound Time nere forgoâ— His journey though his steps we numbred not To CASTARA What Lovers will say when she and he are dead I Wonder when w' are dead what men will say Will not poore Orphan Lovers weepe The parents of their Loves decay And envy deâ—th the treasure of our sleepe Will not each trembling Virgin bring her feares To th' holy silence of my Vrne And chide the Marble with her teares 'Cause she so soone faith's obsequie must mourne For had Fate spar'd but Arapâ—ill she 'le say He had the great example stood And fore't unconstant man obey The law of Loves Religion not of blood And youth by female perjury betraid Will to Castara's shrine deplore His injuries and death obrayd That woman lives more guilty then before For while thy breathing purified the ayre Thy Sex hee 'le say dâ—d onely move By the chaste influence of a faire Whose vertue shin'd in the bright orbe of love Now woman like a Meteor vapor'd forth From dung hills doth amaze our eyes Not shining with a reall worth But subtile her blacke errors to disguise Thus will they talke Castara while our dust In one darke vault shall mingled be The world will fall a prey to lust VVhen Love is dead which hath one fate with me To his Muse. HEre Virgin fix thy pillars and command They sacred may to after ages stand In witnesse of loves triumph Yet will we Castara find new worlds in Poetry And conquer them Not dully following those Tame lovers who dare cloth their thoughts in prose But we will henceforth more Religious prove Concealing the high mysteries of love From the prophane Harmonious like the spheares Our soules shall move not reacht by humane eares That Musicke to the Angels this to fame I here commit That when their holy flame True lovers to pure beauties would rehearse They may invoke the Genius of my verse FINIS A Friend IS a man For the free and open discovery of thoughts to woman can not passe without an over licentious familiarity or a justly occasion'd suspition and friendship can neither stand with vice nor infamie He is vertuous for love begot in sin is a mishapen monster and seldome out-lives his birth He is noble and inherits the vertues of all his progenitors though happily unskilfull to blazon his paternall coate So little should nobility serve for story but when it encourageth to action He is so valiant feare could never be listned to when she whisper'd danger and yet fights not unlesse religion confirmes the quarrell lawfull He submits his actions to the government of vertue not to the wilde decrees of popular opinion and when his conscience is fully satisfied he cares not how mistake and ignorance interpret him He hath so much fortitude he can forgive an injurie and when hee hath overthrowne his opposer not insult upon his weaknesse Hee is an absolute governor no destroyer of his passions which he imployes to the noble increase of vertue He is wise for who hopes to reape a harvest from the sands may expect the perfect offices of friendship from a foole He hath by a liberall education beene softned to civility for that rugged honesty some rude men professe is an indigested Chaos which may containe the seedes of goodnesse but it wants forme and order He is no flutterer but when he findes his friend any way imperfect he freely but gently informes him nor yet shall some few errors cancell the bond of friendship because he remembers no endeavours can raise â—an above his frailety He is as slow to enter into that title as he is to forsake it a monstrous vice must disobliege because an extraordinary vertue did first unite and when he parts he doth it without a duell He is neither effeminate nor a common courtier the first is so passionate a doater upon himselfe hee cannot spare love enough to bee justly named friendship the latter hath his love so diffusive among the beauties that man is not considerable He is not accustomed to any sordid way of gaine for who is any way mechanicke will sell his friend upon more profitable termes He is bountifull and thinkes no treasure of fortune equall to the preservation of him he loves yet not so lavish as to buy friendship and perhaps afterward finde himselfe overseene in the purchase He is not exceptioâ—s for jealousie proceedes from weakenesse
knowes a benefit and the contempt of it ingratitude and therefore loves but not doates on life Death how deformed soever an aspect it weares he is not frighted with since it not annihilates but uncloudes the soule He therefore stands every moment prepared to dyeâ— and though he freely yeelds up himselfe when age or sickenesse sommon him yet he with more alacritie puts off his earth when the profession of faith crownes him a martyr Domine labia mea aperies DAVID NOe monument of me remaine My mem orie rust In the same marble with my dust Ere I the spreadingst Laurell gaine By writing wanton or profane Ye glorious wonders of the skies Shine still bright starres Th' Almighties mystick Characters I le not your beautious lights surprize T' illuminate a womans eyes Nor to perfume her veines will I In each one set The purple of the violet The untoucht flowre may grow and dye Safe from my fancieâ— injurie Open my lippes great God! and then I le soare above The humble flight of carnall love Vpward to thee I le force my pen And trace no path of vulgar men For what can our unbounded soules Worthy to be Their object finde excepting thee Where can I fixe since time controuses Our pride whose motion all thingâ— roules Should I my selfe ingratiate Tâ— a Princes smile How soone may death my hopes beguile And should I farme the proudest state I 'me Tennant to uncertaine fate If I court gold will it not rust And if my love Toward a female beauty move How will that surfet of our lust Distast us when resolv'd to dust But thou Aeternall banquet where For ever we May feede without satietie Who harmonie art to the eare Who art while all things else appeare While up to thee I shoote my flame Thou dost dispence A holy death that murders sence And makes me scorne all pompes that ayme At other triumphes than thy name It crownes me with a victory So heavenly all That 's earth from me away doth fall And I from my corruption free Grow in my vowes even part of thee Versa est in luctum cythara mea IOB LOve I no orgies sing Whereby thy mercies to invoke Nor from the East rich perfumes bring To cloude thy Altars with the precious smoake Nor while I did frequent Those fanes by lovers rais'd to thee Did I loose heathenish rites invent To force a blush from injur'd Chastitie Religious was the charme I used affection to intice And thought none burnt more bright or warme Yeâ— chaste as winter was the Sacrifice But now I thee bequeath To the soft silken youths at Court Who may their witty passions breath To raise their Mistresse smile or make her sport They 'le smooth thee into rime Such as shall catch the wanton eare And win opinion with the time To make them a high sayle of honour beare And may a powerfull smile Cherish their flatteries of wit While I my life of fame begâ—ile And under my owne vine uncourted sit For I have scene the Pine Famed for its travels ore the Sea Broken with stormes and age decline And in some creeke unpittied rot away I have seene Caedars fall And in their roome a Mushrome grow I have seene Comets threatning all Vanish themselves I have seene Princes so Vaine triviall dust weake man Where is that vertue of thy breath That others save or ruine can When thou thy selfe art cal'd t' account by death When I consider thee The scorne of Time and sport of fate How can I turne to jollitie My ill-strung Harpe and court the delicate How can I but disdaine The emptie fallacies of mirth And in my midnight thoughts retaine How high so ere I spread my root 's in earth Fond youth too long I playd The wanton with a false delight Which when I toucht I found a shade That onely wrought on th' error of my â—ight Then since pride doth betray The soule to flatter'd ignorance I from the World will steale away And by humility my thoughts advance Perdam Sapientiam Sapientum To the Right Honorable the Lord Windsor My Lord FOrgive my envie to the World while I Commend those sober thoughts perswade you fly The glorious troubles of the Court. For though The vale lyes open to each overflow And in the humble shâ—de we gather ill And aguish ayres yet lightnings oftner kill o th' naked heights of mountaines whereon we May have more prospect not securitie For when with losse of breath we have orecome Some steepe ascent of power and forc'd a roome On the so envi'd hill how doe our hearts Pant with the labour and how many arts More subtle must we practise to defend Our pride from sliding then we did t' ascend How doth successe delude the mysteries And all th' involv'd designements of the wise How doth that Power our Pollitickes call chance Racke them till they confesse the ignorance Of humane wit Which when 't is fortified So strong with reason that it doth deride All adverse force o th' sudden findes its head Inâ—angled in a spiders slender thread Coelestiall Providence How thou dost mocke The boast of earthly wisdome On some rocke When man hath a structure with such art It doth disdaine to tremble at the dart Of thunder or to shrinke oppos'd by all The angry winds it of it selfe doth fall Ev'n in a calme so gentle that no ayre Breaths loude enough to stirre a Virgins haiâ—e But misery of judgement Though past time Instruct us by th' ill fortune of their crimes And shew us how we may secure our state From pittied ruine by anothers fate Yet we contemning all such sad advice Pursue to build thougth on a precipice But you my Lord prevented by foresight To engage your selfe to such an unsafe height And in your selfe both great and rich enough Resused t' expose your vessell to the rough Vncertaine sea of businesse whence even they Who make the best returne are forc't to say The wealth we by our worldly traffique gaine Weighes light if ballanc'd with the feare or paine Paucitatem dierum meorum nuncia mihi DAVID TEll me O great All knowing God What period Hast thou unto my dayes assign'd Like some old leafelesse tree shall I Wither away or violently Fall by the axe by lightning or the Wind Heere where I first drew vitall breath Shall I meete death And finde in the same vault a roome Where my â—ore-fathers ashes sâ—eepe Or shall I dye where none shall weepe My timelesse fate and my cold earth intombe Shall I'gainst the swift Parthians fight And in their flight Receive my death Or shall I see That envied peace in which we are Triumphant yet disturb'd by warre And perish by th' invading enemie Astrologers who calculate Vncertaine fate Affirme my scheme doth not presage Any abridgement of my dayes And the Phisitian gravely sayes I may enjoy a reverent length of age But they are jugglers and by slight Of art the sight Of faith delude and in their
never action worth my name approve Which serv'd not thee Nor did we ere contâ—nd But who should be best pattâ—râ—e of a friend Who read thee praise thy fancie and admire Thee burning with so high and pure a fire As reaches heaven it selfe But I who know Thy soule religious to her ends where grow No siâ—nes by art or custome boldly can Stile thee more than good Poët a good man Then let thy temples shake off vulâ—ar bayes Th' hast â—uilt an Altar which enshrines â—hy praise And to the faith of after time commends Yee the best paire of lovers us of friends GEORGE TALâ—OT A Mistris IS the fairest treasure the avarice of Love can covet and the onely white at which he shootes his arrowes nor while his aime is noble can he ever hit upon repentance She is chaste for the devill enters the Idoll and gives the Oracle when wantonnesse possesseth beauty and wit maintaines it lawfull She is as faire as Nature intended her helpt perhaps to a more pleasing grace by the sweetnesse of education not by the slight of Art She is young for a woman past the delicacie of her spring may well move by vertue to respect never by beauty to affection Shee is innocent even from the knowledge of siâ—ne for vice is too strong to be wrastled with and gives her frailty the foyle She is not proude though the amorous youth interpret her modestie to that sence but in her vertue weares so much Majestie lust dares not rebell nor though masqued under the pretence of love capitulate with her She entertaines not every parley offer'd although the Articles pretended to her advantage advice and her owne feares restraine her and woman never owed ruine to too much caution She glories not in the plurality of servants a multitude of adorers heaven can onely challeng and it is impietie in her weakenesse to desire superstition from many She is deafe to the whispers of love and even on the marriage houre can breake off without the least suspition of scandall to the former liberty of her carriage She avoydes a too neere conversation with man and like the Parthian overcomes by flight Her language is not copious but apposit and she had rather suffer the reproach of being dull company than have the title of Witty with that of Bold and Wanton In her carriage she is sober and thinkes her youth expresseth life enough without the giddy motion fashion of late hath taken up She danceth to the best applause but doates not on the vanity of it nor licenceth an irregular meeting to vaunt the levity of her skill She sings but not perpetually for she knowes silence in woman is the most perswading oratory She never arriv'd to so much familiarity with man as to know the demunitive of his name and call him by it and she can show a competent favour without yeelding her hand to his gripe Shee never understood the language of a kisse but at salutation nor dares the Courtier use so much of his practised impudence as to offer the rape of it from her because chastity hath write it unlawfull and her behaviour proclaimes it unwelcome She is never sad and yet not jiggish her conscience is cleere from guilt and that secures her from sorrow She is not passionately in love with poetry because it softens the heart too much to love but she likes the harmony in the Composition and the brave examples of vertue celebrated by it she proposeth to her imitation She is not vaine in the history of her gay kindred â—r acquaintance since vertue is often tenant â—o a cottage and familiarity with greatnesse if worth be not transcendant above the title is but a glorious servitude fooles onely are willing to suffer She is not ambitious to be prais'd and yet vallues death beneath infamy And I le conclude though the next sinod of Ladies condemne this character as an heresie broacht by a Precision that onely she who hath as great a share in vertue as in beauty deserves a noble love to serve her and a free Poesie to speake her To CASTARA A Sacrifice LET the chaste Phoenix from the flowry East Bring the sweete treasure of her perfum'd nest As incense to this Altar where the name Of my Castara's grav'd by th' hand of fame Let purer Virgins to redeeme the aire From loose infection bring their zealous prayer T' assist at this great feast where they shall see What rites Love offers up to Chastity Let all the amorous Youth whose faire desire Felt never warmth but from a noble fire Bring hither their bright flâmes which here shall shine As Tapers fixt about Custara's sâ—rine While I the Priest my untam'd heart surprise And in this Temple mak 't her sacrifice To CASTARA Praying I Saw Castara pray and from the skie A winged legion of bright Angel flie To catch his vowes for feare her Vrgin prayer Might chance to mingle with impurer aire To vulgar eyes the sacred truth I write May seeme a fancie But the Eagles sight Of Saints and Pâ—ets miracles oft view Which to dull Heretikes appeare untrue Faire zeale begets such wonders O divine And purest beauty let me thee enshrine In my devoted soule and from thy praise T' enrich my garland pluck religious Bayes Shine thou the starre by which my thoughts shall move Best subject of my pen Queene of my love To Roses in the bosome of CASTARA YEE blushing Virgins happie are In the chaste Nunn'ry of her brests For hee 'd prophane so chaste a faire Who ere should call them Cupids nests Transplanted thus how bright yee grow How rich a perfume doe yee yeeld In some close garden Cowslips so Are sweeter then i th' open field In those white Cloysters live secure From the rude blasts of wanton breath Each houre more innocent and pure Till you shall wither into death Then that which living gave you roome Your glorious sepulcher shall be There wants no marble for a tombe Whose brest hath marble beene to me To CASTARA A Uow BY those chaste lamps which yeeld a silent light so the cold Vrnes of Virgins By that night Which guilty of no crime doth onely heare The Vowes of recluse Nuâ—s and th' Au'thrits prayer And by thy chaster selfe My fervent zeale Like mountaine yâ—e which the North winds congeale To purest Christall feeles no wanton fire But as the humble Pilgrim whose desire Blest in Christs cottage view by Angels hands Transported from sad Bethlem wondring stands At the great miracle So I at thee Whose beauty is the shrine of chastity Thus my bright Muse in a new orbe shall move And even teach Religion how to love To CASTARA Of his being in Love VVHere am I not in Heaven for oh I feele The Stone of Sisiphus Ixions wheele And all those tortures Poets by their wine Made judges laid on Tant â—lus are mine Nor yet am I in hell for still I stand Though giddy in my passion on firme land And still
be interr'd so neere her eye Who would feare the sword to have Such an Alabaster grave O're which two bright â—apers burne To give light to the beauteous Vine At the first Castara smil'd Thinking Cupid her beguil'd Onely coâ—nterfeiting death But when she perceiv'd his breath Quite expir'd the mournefull Girle To entoâ—be the boy in Pearle Wept so long till pittious Iove From the ashes of this Love Made ten thousand Cupids rise But confin'd them to her eyes Where they yet to shew they lacke No due sorrow still we are blacke But the blacks so glorious are Which they mouâ—ne in that the faire Quires of starres looke pale and â—â—et Seeing themselves out shin'd by jet To Fame FLy on thy swiftest wing ambitious Fame And speake to the cold North Castara's name Which very breath will like the East wind bring The temp'rate warmth and musicke of the Spring Then from the Articke to th' Antarticke Pole Haste nimbly and inspire a gentler soule By naming her â—th ' torrid South that he May milde as Zephorâ—â— coole whispers be Nor let the West where heaven already joynes The vastest Empire and the wealthiest Mines Nor th' East in pleasures wanton her condemne For not distributing her gifts on them For she with want would have her bounty meete Loves noble charity is so discreete A Dialogue betweene ARAPHILL and CASTARA ARAPH DOst not thou Castara read Am'rous volumes in my eyes Doth not every motion plead What I 'de shew and yet disguise Sences act each others part Eyes as tongues reveale the heart CAST. I saw love as lightning breake From thy eyes and was content Oft to heare thy silence speake Silent love is eloquent So the sence of learning heares The dumbe musicke of the Spheares ARAPH Then there 's mercy in your kinde Listning to an unfain'd love Or strives he to tame the wind Who would your compassion move No y' are pittious as y 're faire Heaven relents o'recome by prayer CAST. But loose man too prodigall Is in the expence of vowes And thinks to him kingdomes fall When the heart of woman bowes Frailty to your armes may yeeld Who resists you wins the field ARAPH Triumph not to see me bleede Let the Bore chaâ—ed from his den On the wounds of mankinde feede Your soft sexe should pitty men Malice well may practise Art Love hath a transparent heart CAST. Yet is love all one deceit A warme frâ—st a frozen fire She within her selfe is great Who is sâ—ave to no desire Let youth act and age advise And then love may finde his eyes ARAPH Hymens torch yeelds a dim light When ambition joynes our hands A proud day but mournefull night She sustaines who marries lands Wealth slaves man but for their Ore Th' Indians had beene free though poore CAST. And yet wealth the fuell is Which maintaines the nuptiallfire And in honour there 's a blisse Th' are immortall who aspire But truth sayes no joyes are sweete But where hearts united meete ARAPH Roses breath not such a sent To persume the neighb'ring groves As when you affirme content In no spheare of glory moves Glory narrow soules combines Noble hearts Love onely joynes To CASTARA Intending a journey into the Countrey WHy haste you hence Castara can the earth Aglorious mother in her â—lowry birth Shew Lillies like thy brow Can she disclose In emulation of thy cheeke a Rose Sweete as thy blush upon thy selfe then set Iust value and scorne it thy counterfeit The Spring 's still with thee But perhaps the field Not warm'd with thy approach wants force to yeeld Her tribute to the Plough O rather let Th' ingratefull earth for ever be in debt To th' hope of sweating industry than we Should starve with cold who have no heat but thee Nor feare the publike good Thy eyes can give A life to all who can deserve to live Vpon CASTARA'S departure I Am engag'd to sorrow and my heart Feeles a distracted rage Though you depart And leave me to my feares let love in spite Of absence our divided soules unite But you must goe The melancholy Doves Draw Venus chariot hence The sportive Loves Which wont to wanton here hence with you flye And like false friends forsake me when I dye For but a walking tombe what can he be Whose best of life is forc't to part with thee To CASTARA Vpon a trembling kisse at departure TH' Arabian wind whose breathing gently blows Purple to th' Violet blushes to the Rose Did never yeeld â—n odour rich as this Why are you then so thrifty of a kisse Authoriz'd even by custome Why doth feare So tremble on your lip my lip being neare Thinke you I parting with so sad a zeale Will act so blacke a mischiefe as to steale Thy Roses thence And they by this device Transplanted somewhere else force Paradice Or else you feare lest you should my heart skip Vp to my mouth t' incounter with your lip Might rob me of it and be judg'd in this T' have Iudas like betraid me with a kisse In CASTARA Looking backe at her departing LOoke backe Castara From thy eye Let yet more flaming arrowes flye To live is thus to burne and dye For what might glorious hope desire But that thy selfe as I expire Should bring both death and funerall fire Distracted Love shall grieve to see Such zeale in death For feare lest he Himselfe should be consum'd in me And gathering up my ashes weepe That in his teares he then may steepe And thus embâlm'd as reliques keepe Thitheâ— let lovers pilgrims turne And the loose flames in which they burne Give up aâ— offâ—rings to my Vrne That them the vertue of my shrine By miracle so long refine Till they prove innocent as mine Vpon CASTARA'S absence T' Is madnesse to give Physicke to the dead Then leave me friends Yet haply you 'd here read A lecture but I 'le not dissected be T' instruct your Art by my anatomie But still you trust your sense sweare you discry No difference in me All 's deceit o th' eye Some spirit hath a body fram'd in th' ayâ—e Like mine which he doth to delude you weare Else heaven by miracle makes me survive My selfe to keepe in me poore Love alive But I am dead yet lâ—t none question where My best part rests and with a sigh or teare Prophane â—he Pompe when they my corps interre My soule imparâ—dis'd for 't is with her To CASTARA Complaining her absence in the Country THe lesser people of the ayre conspire To keepe thee from me Philomel with higher And sweeter noteâ— wooes thee to weepe her rape Which would appease the gods change her shape The early Larke preferring 'fore soft rest Oâ—sequious duty leaves his downy nest And doth to thee harmoniâ—us tribute pay Expecting from thy eyes the breake of day From which the Owle is frighted and doth rove As never having felt the warmth of love In uncouth vaults and the chill shades of night Not biding the bright lustre
of thy â—ight With him my fate agreeâ— Not viewing thee I 'me lost in mists at best but meteors see To THAMES SWift in thy waâ—ry chariot courteous Thames Hast by the happy error of thy streames To kisse the banks of Marlow which doth show Faiâ—e Scymors and beyond that never flow Then summon all thy Swans that who did give Musicke to death may henceforth sing and live For my Castara She can life restore Or quicken them who had no life before How should the Poplar else the Pine provoke The stately Cedar challenge the rude Oke To dance at sight of her They have no sense From nature given but by her influence If Orpheus did those senslesse creatures move He was a Prophet and fore sang my love To the right honourable the Earle of Shrewes MY Muse great Lord when last you heard her sing Did to your Vncles Vrne her off'rings bring And if to fame I may give faith your eares Delighted in the musicke of her teares That was her debt to vertue And when e're She her bright head among the clouds shall reare And adde to th' wondring heavens a new flame Shee 'le celebrate the Genius of your name Wilde with another raâ—e inspir'd by love She charmes the Myrtles of the Idalian grove And while she gives the Cyprian stormes a law Those wanton Doves which Cytherâ—ia draw Through th' am'rous ayre Admire what power doth sway The Ocean and arrest them in their way She sings Castara â—hen O' she more bright Than is the Starry Senate of the night Who in their motion did like straglers erre Cause they deriv'd no influence from her Who 's constant as she 's chaste The Sunne hath beene Clad like a neighb'ring shepheard often seene To hunt those Dales in hope then Daphnes there To see a brighter face Th' Astrologer In th' interim dyed whose proud Art could not show Whence that Ecclipse did on the sudden grow A wanton Satyre eager in the chase Of some faire Nimph beheld Castara's face And left his loose pursuite who while he ey'd Vnchastely such a beauty glorified With â—uch a vertue by heavens great commands Turn'd marble and there yet a Statue stands As Poet thus But as a Christian now And by my zeale to you my Lord I vow She doth a flame so pure and sacred move In me imp ety ' twâ—re not to love To CVPID Wishing a speedy passage to CASTARA THank es Cupid but the Coach of Venus moves For me too slow drawne but by lazie Doves I lest my journey a delay should finde Will leape into the chariâ—t of the wind Swift as the flight of lightning through the ayre Hee 'le hurry me till I approach the faire Bâ—t unkinde Seymors Thus he will proclaime What tribute winds owe to Castara's name Viewing this prodigie astonisht they Who first accâ—sse deny'd me will obey With feare what love commâ—nds Yet câ—nsure me As guilty of the blackest â—orâ—ery But after to my wishes mâ—â—deâ— provâ—â— When they know this the miracl◠〈◊〉 lâ—ve To CASâ—Aâ—â— Of â—oâ—e HOw f 〈…〉 And ore th' obedient elements command Hee 's lame as he is blinde for here I stand Fixt as the earth Throw then this Idoll downe Yee lovers who first made it which can frowne Or smile but as you please But I 'me untame In rage Castara call thou on his name And though hee 'le not beare up my vowes to thee Hee 'le triumph to bring downe my Saint to me To the Spring Vpon the uncertainty of CASTARA'S abode FAire Mistresse of the earth with garlands crown'd Rise by a lovers charme from the pâ—rtcht ground And shew thy flowry wealth that she where ere Her starres shall guide her meete thy beauties there Should she to the cold Northerne climates goe Force thy affâ—ighted Lillies there to grow Thâ— Roses in those gelid fieldâ— t' appeare She absent I have alâ— their Winter here Or if to th' â—orrid Zone â—er way she bend Her the coole breathing of Favonius lend Thither command the birds to bring their quires That Zone is temp'rate I have all his fires Attend her courteous Spring though we should here Lose by it all the treasures of the yeeâ—e To Reason Vpon CASTARA'S absence WIth your calme preâ—epts goe and lay a storme In some brest flegmaâ—icke which would conforme Her life to your cold lawes In vaâ—ne y'â—ngage Your selfe on me I will obey my rage Shee 's gone and I am â—ost Some unknowne grove I 'le finde whereby the miracle of Love I 'le turne t' a fountaine and divide the yeere By numbring every moment with a teare Where if Castara to avoyd the beames o th' nâ—igh'bring Sun shall wandring meete my streames And tasting hope her tâ—irst alaid shall be Shee 'le feele a sudden flame and burne like me And thus distracted cry Tell me thou cleere But treach'rous Fount what lover 's coffin'd here An answere to CASTARA'S question T' Is I Castara who when thou wert gone Did freeze into this melancholly stone To weepe the minutes of thy absence Where Can greefe have freer scope to mourne than here The Larke here practiseth a sweeter straine Aurora's early blush to entertaine And having too deepe tasted of these streames He loves and amorously courts her beames The courteous turtle with a wandring zeale Saw how to stone I did my selfe congeale And murm'ring askt what power this change did move The language of my waters whispered Love And thus transform'd I le stand till I shall see That heart so ston'd and frozen thaw'd in thee To CASTARA Vpon the disguising his affection PRonounce me guilty of a Blacker crime Then e're in the Large volume writ by Time The sad Historian reades if not my Art Dissembles love to veile an am'rous heart For when the zealous anger of my friend Checkes my unusuall sadnesse I pretend To study vertue which indeede I doe He must court vertue who aspires to you Or that some friend is dead and then a teare A sigh or groane steales from me for I feare Lest death with love hath strooke my heart and all These sorrowes usher but its funerall Which should revive should there you a mourner be And force a nuptiall in an obsequie To the honourable my honoured kinsman Mr. G. T. THrice hath the pale-fac'd Empresse of the night â—ent in her chaste increase hâ—r borrowed light To guide the vowing Marriner since mute Talbot th' ast beene too slothfull to salute Thy exil'd servant Labour not t' excuse This dull neglect Love never wants a Muse. When thunder summons from eternall sleepe Th' imprison'd ghosts spreads o th' frighted deepe A veile of darknesse penitent to be I may forget yet still remember thee Next to my faire under whose eye-lids move In nimble measures beauty wit and love Nor thinke Castara though the sexe be fraile And ever like uncertaine vessels saile On th' ocean of their passions while each wind Triumphs to see their more uncertaine mind Can be induc't to alter Every starre
CASTARA The Second part Uatumque lascivos triumphos Calcat Amor pede conjugali LONDON Printed for WILLIAM COOKE and are to be sold at his Shop neare Furnivals-Inne Gate in Holborne 1639. A Wife IS the sweetest part in the harmony of our being To the love of which as the charmes of Nature inchant us so the law of grace by speciall priviledge invites us Without her Man if piety not restraine him is the creator of sinne or if an innated cold render him not onely the businesse of the present age the murderer of posterity She is so religious that every day crownes her a martyr and her zeale neither rebellious nor uncivill Shee is so true a friend her Husband may to her communicate even his ambitions and if successe Crowne not expectation remaine neverthelesse uncontemn'd Shee is colleague with him in the Empire of prosperity and a safe retyring place when adversity exiles him from the World Shee is so chaste shee never understood the language lust speakes in nor with a smile applaudes it although there appeare wit in the Metaphore Shee is faire onely to winne on his affections nor would she be Mistris of the most eloquent beauty if there were danger that might perswade the passionate auditory to the least irregular thought Shee is noble by a long descent but her memory is so evill a herald Shee never boasts the story of her Ancestors Shee is so moderately rich that the defect of portion doth neither bring penury to his estate nor the superfluity licence her to Riot Shee is liberall and yet owes not ruine to vanity but knowes Charity to be the soule of goodnesse and Uertue without reward often prone to bee her owne destroyer Shee is much at home and when shee visits 't is for mutuall commerce not for intelligence Shee can goe to Court and returne no passionate doater on bravery and when shee hath seene the gay things muster up themselves there shee considers them as Cobwebs the Spider vanity hath spunne Shee is so generall in her acquaintance that shee is familiar with all whom fame speakes vertuous but thinkes there can bee no friendship but with one and therefore hath neither shee friend nor private servant Shee so squares her passion to her Husbands fortunes that in the Countrey shee lives without a froward Melancholly in the towne without a fantastique pride She is â—o temperate she never read the moderne pollicie of glorious surfeits since she finds Nature is no Epicure if art provoke her not by curiositie Shee is inquisitive onely of new wayes to please him and her wit sayles by no other compasse then that of his direction Shee lookes upon him as Conjurers upon the Circle beyond which there is nothing but Death and Hell and in him shee beleeves Paradice circumscrib'd His vertues are her wonder and imitation and his errors her credulitie thinkes no more frailtie then makes him descend to the title of Man In a word shee so lives that shee may dye and leave no cloude upon her Memory but have her character nobly mentioned while the bad Wife is flattered into infamy and buyes pleasure at too deare â— rate if shee onely payes for it Repentance The Second Part. To CASTARA Now possest of her in marriage THis day is ours The marriage Angell now Sees th' Altar in the odâ—ur of our vow Yeeld a more precious breath then that which moves The whispring leaves in the Paâ—chayan groves View how â—is temples shine on which he weaâ—eâ— A wreath of pearle made of those precious teares Thou wepst a Virgin when crosse winds did blow Our hopes disturbing in their quiet flow But now Castara smile No envious night Dares enterpose it selfe t'ecclipse the light Of our cleare joyes For even the lawes divine Permit our mutuall love so to entwine That Kings to ballance true content shall say Would they were great as we we blest as they To CASTARA Upon the mutuall love of their Majesties DId you not see Castara when the King Met his lov'd Queene what sweetnesse she did bring T' incounter his brave heat how great a flame From their brests meeting on the sudden came The Stoike who all easie passion flies Could he but heare the language of their eyes As heresies would from his faith remove The tenets of his sect and practise love The barb'rous nations which supply the earth With a promiscuous and ignoble birth Would by this precedent correct their life Each wisely chuse and chastely love a wife Princes example is a law Then we If loyall subjects must true lovers be To Zephirus WHose whispers soft as those which lovers breath Castara and my selfe I here bequeath To the calme wind For heaven such joyes afford To her and me that there can be no third And you kinde starres be thriftier of your light Her eyes supply your office with more bright And constant lustre Angels gaurdians like The nimbler ship boyes shall be joy'd to strike Or hoâ—sh up saile Nor shall our vessell move By Card or Compasse but a heavenly love The couresie of this more prosperous gale Shall swell our Canvas and wee 'le swiftly saile To some blest Port where ship hath never lane At anchor whose chaste soile no foot prophane Hath ever trod Where nature doth dispence Her infant wealth a beautious innocence Pompe even a burthen to it selfe nor Pride The Magistrate of sinnes did e're abide On that so sacred earth Ambition ne're Built for the sport of ruine fabrickes there Thence age and death are exil'd all offence And feare expell'd all noyse and faction thence A silence there so melancholly sweet That none but whispring Turtles ever meet Thus Paradise did our first Parents Wooe To harmelesse sweets at first possest by two And o're this second wee le usurpe the throne Castara wee le obey and rule alone For the rich vertue of this soyle I feare Would be depraved should but a third be there To CASTARA In a Trance FOrsake me not so soone Castara stay And as I breake the prison of my Clay I le fill the Canvas with m'expiring breath And with thee saile o're the vast maine of death Some Cherubin thus as we passe shall play Goe happy twins of love The courteous Sea Shall smooth her wrinkled brow the winds shal sleep Or onely whisper musicke to the deepe Every ungentle rocke shall melt away The Syrens sing to please not to betray Th' indulgent skie shall smile each starry quire Contend which shall afford the brighter fire While Love the Pilot steeres his course so even Ne're to cast anchor till we reach at Heaven To DEATH CASTARA being sicke HEnce prophane grim man nor dare To approach so neere my faire Marble vaults and gloomy caves Church-yards Charnell houses graves Where the living loath to be Heaven hath design'd to thee But if needs 'mongst us thou ' it rage Let thy fury feed on age Wrinckled browes and withered thighs May supply thy sacrifice Yet perhaps as thou flew'st
by A flamed darâ— shot from her eye Sing'd thy wings with wanton fire Whence th' art forc't to hover nigh her If Love so mistooke his aime Gently welcome in the flame They who loath'd thee when they see Where thou harbor'st will love thee Onely I such is my fate Must thee as a rivall hate Court her gently learne to prove Nimble in the thefts of love Gaze on th' errors of her haire Touch her lip but oh beware Lest too ravenous of thy blisse Thou shouldst murder with a kisse To CASTARA Inviting her to sleepe SLeepe my Castara silence doth invite Thy eyes to close up day though envious night Grieves Fate should her the sight of them debarre For she is exil'd while they open are Rest in thy peace secure With drowsie charmes Kinde sleepe bewitcheth thee into her armes And finding where Loves chiefest treasure lies Is like a theefe stole under thy bright eyes Thy innocence rich as the gaudy quilâ— Wrought by the Persian hand thy dreames from guilâ— Exempted heaven with sweete repose doth crowne Each vertue softer then the Swans fam'd downe As exoroists wilde spirits mildly lay May sleepe thy fever calmely chase away Upon CASTARA'S recoverie SHe is restor'd to life Vnthrifty Death Thy mercy in permitting vitall breath Backe to Castara hath enlarg'd us all Whom gâ—iefe had martyr'd in her funerall While others in the ocean of their teares Had sinking wounded the beholders eares With exclamations I without a grone Had suddenly congeal'd into a stone There stood a statue till the generall doome Had ruin'd time and memory with her tombe While in my heart which marble yet still bled Each Lover might this Epitaph have read Her earth lyes here below her soul 's above This wonder speakes her vertue and my love To a Friend Inviting him to a meeting upon promise MAy you drinke beare or that adult'rate wine Which makes the zeale of Amsterdam divine If you make breach of promise I have now So rich a Sacke that even your selfe will bow â—'adore my Geâ—iâ—â— Of this wine should Prâ—nne Drinke but a plenteous glasse he would beginne A health to Shakespeares ghost But you may bring Some excuse forth and answer me the King To day will give you audience or that on Affaires of state you and some serious Don Are to resolve or else perhaps you 'le sin So farâ—e as to leave word y' are not within The least of these will make me onely thinke Him subtle who can in his closet drinke Drunke even alone and thus made wise create As dangerous plots as the Low Countrey state Projecting for such baits as shall draw ore To Holland all the herrings from our shore But y' are too full of candor and I know Will sooner stones at Saliâ—bury casements throw Or buy up for the silenc'd Leviâ—s all The rich impropriâ—tionâ— then let pall So pure Canary and breake such an oath Since charity is sinn'd against in both Come therefore blest even in the Lollards zeale Who canst with conscience safe ' â—ore hen and veale Say grace in Latine while I saintly sing A Penitentiall verse in oyle and Ling. Come then and bring with you prepar'd for fight Vnmixt Canary Heaven send both prove right This I am sure My sâ—cke will disingage All humane thoughts inspire so high a rage That Hypocrene shall henceforth Poets lacke Since more Enthusiasmes are in my sacke Heightned with which my raptures shall commend How good Castara is how deare my friend To CASTARA Where true happinesse abides CAstara whisper in some dead mans eare This subtill quaere and hee 'le point out where By answers negative true joyes abide Hee 'le say they flow not on th' uncertaine tide Of greatnesse they can no firme basis have Vpon the tripidation of a wave Nor lurke they in the caverns of the earth Whence all the wealthy minerals draw their birth To covetous man so fatall Nor i th' grace Love they to wanton of a brighter face For th' are above Times battery and the light Of beauty ages cloud will soone be night If among these Content he thus doth prove Hath no abode where dwels it but in Love To CASTARA FOrsake with me the earth my faire And travell nimbly through the aire Till we have reacht th' admiring skies Then lend sight to those heavenly eyes Which blind themselves make creatures see And taking view of all when we Shall finde a pure and glorious spheare Wee 'le fix like starres for ever there Nor will we still each other view Wee 'le gaâ—e on lesser starres then you See how by their weake influence they The strongest of mens actions sway In an inferiour or be below Wee 'le see Calisto loosely throw Her haire abroad aâ— she did weare The selfe-same beauty in a Beare As when she a cold Virgin stood And yet inflam'd Ioves lustfull blood Then looke on Lede whose faire beames By their reflection guild those streames Where first unhappy she began To play the wanton with a Swan If each of these loose beauties are Transform'd to a more beauteous starre By the adult'rous lust of Iove Why should not we by purer love To CASTARA Vpon the death of a Lady CAstara weepe not though her tombe appeare Sometime thy griefe to answer with a teare The marble will but wanton with thy woe Death is the Sea and we like Rivers flow To lose our selves in the insatiate Maine Whence Rivers may she ne're returne againe Nor grieve this Christall streame so soone did fall Into the Ocean since shee perfum'd all The banks she past so that each neighbour field Did sweete flowers cherish by her watring yeeld Which now adorne her Hearse The violet there On her pale cheeke doth the â—ad livery weare Which heavens compassion gave her And since she Cause cloath'd in purple can no mourner be As incense to the tombe she gives her breath And fading on her Lady waits in death Such office the Aegyptian handmaids did Great Cleopatra when she dying chid The Asps slow venome trembling she should be By Fate rob'd even of that blacke victory The flowers instruct our sorrowes Come then all Ye beauties to true beauties funerall And with â—er to increase deaths pompe decay Since the supporting fabricke of your clay Is falne how can ye stand How can the night Shew stars when Fate puts out the dayes great light But 'mong the faire if there live any yet She 's but the fairer Digbies counterfeit Come you who speake your titles Reade in this Pale booke how vaineâ— boâ—ast your greatnesse iâ— What 's honour but a hatchment what is here Of Percy left and Stanly names most deare To vertue but a crescent turn'd to th'wane An Eagle groaning o're an infant â—â—aine Or what availes her that she once was led A glorious bride to valiant Digbies bed Since death hath them divorc'd If then alive There are who these sâ—d obsequies survive And vaunt a proud descent they onely be Loud hâ—ralds to
set forth her pedigree Come all who glory in your wealth and view The embleme of your frailty How untrue Though flattering like friends your treasures are Her Fare hath taught who when what ever rare The either Indies boast lay richly spread For her to weare lay on her pillow dead Come likewise my Castara and behold What blessings ancient prophesie foretold Bestow'd on her in death She past away So sweetely from the world as if her clay Laid enely downe to slumber Then forbeare To let on her blest ashes fall a teare But if th' art too much woman softly weepe Lest griefe disturbe the silence of her sleepe To CASTARA Being to take a journey WHat 's death more than departure the dead go Like travelling exiles compell'd to know Those regions they heard mention of T is th' art Of sorrowes sayes who dye doe but depart Then weepe thy funerall teares which heaven t' adorne The beauteous tresses of the weeping morne Will rob me of and thus my tombe shall be As naked as it had no obsequie Know in these lines sad musicke to thy eare My sad Castara you the sermon here Which I preach o're my hearse And dead I tell My owne lives story ring but my owne knell But when I shall returne know 't is thy breath In sighes divided rescues me from death To CASTARA Weeping CAstara O you are too prodigall o th' treasure of your teares which thus let fall Make no returne well plac'd calme peace might bring To the loud wars â—ach free a captiv'd King So the unskilfull Indian those bright jems Which might adde adde majestie to Diadems 'Mong the waves scatters as if he would store The thanklesse Sea to make our Empire poore When heaven darts thunder at the wombe of Time Cause with each moment it brings forth a crime Or else despairing to roote out abuse Would ruine vitious earth be then profuse Light chas'd rude chaos from the woâ—ld before Thy teares by hindring it's returne worke more To CASTARA Upon a sigh I Heard a sigh and something in my eare Did whisper what my soule before did feare That it was breath'd by thee May th' easie Spring Enricht with odours wanton on the wing Of th'Easterne wind may ne'râ— his beauty fade If he the treasure of this breath convey'd 'T was thine by 'th musicke which th'harmonious breath Of Swans is like propheticke in their death And th'odour for as it the nard expires Perfuming Phoenix-like his funerall fires The winds of Paradice send such a gale To make the Lovers vessels calmely saile To his lov'd Port. This shall where it inspires Increase the chaste extinguish unchaste fires To the Right Honourable the Lady F. Madam YOu saw our loves prais'd the mutuall flame In which as incense to your sacred name Burnes a religious zeale May we be lost To one another and our fire be frost When we omit to pay the tribute due To worth and vertue and in them to you Who are the soule of women Others be But beauteous parts oth'female body she Who boasts how many nimble Cupids skip Through her bright face is but an eye or lip The other who in her soft brests can show Warme Violets growing in a banke of snow And vaunts the lovely wonder is but skin Nor is she but a hand who holds within The chrystall violl of her wealthy palme The precions sweating of the Easterne balme And all these if you them together take And joyne with art â—ill but one body make To which the soule each vitall motion gives You are infus'd into it and it lives But should you up to your blest mansion flie How loath'd an object would the carkasse lie You are all mind Castara when she lookes On you th' Epitome of all that â—ookes Or e're tradition taught who gives such praise Vnto your sex that now even customes sayes He hath a female soule who ere hath writ Volumes which learning comprehend and wâ—it Castara cries to me Searchouâ— and find The Mines of vvisedome in her learned mind And trace her steps to honour I aspire Enough to worth while I her worth admire To CASTARA Against opinion VVHy should we build Castara in the aire Of fraile opinion Why admire as faire What the weake faith of man gives us for right The jugling world cheats but the weaker sight What is in greatnesse happy As free mirth As ample pleasures of th' indulgent earth VVe joy who on the ground our mansion finde As they who saile like witches in the wind Of Court applause What can their powerfull spell Over inchanted man more than compell Him into various formes Nor serves their charme Themselves to good but to worke others harme Tyrant Opinion but depose And we VVill absolute i th' happiest Empire be To CASTARA Vpon Beautie CAstara see that dust the sportive vvind So vvantons vvith 'T is happ'ly all you 'le finde Left of some beauty and hovv still it flies To trouble as it did in life our eyes O empty boast of flesh Though our heires gild The farre fetch Phrigian marble vvhich shall build A burthen to our a heâ— yâ—t will death Betray them to the sport of every breath Dost thou poore relique of our frailty still Swell up with glory Or is it thy skill To mocke weake man whom every wind of praise Into the aire doth 'bove his center raise If so mocke on And tell him that his lust To beauti 's madnesse For it courts but dust To CASTARA Melancholly WEre but that sigh a penitentiall breath That thou art mine It would blow with it death T' inclose me in ray marble Where I 'de be Slave to the tyrant wormes to set thee free What should we envy Though with larger saile Some dance upon the Ocean yet more fraile And faithlesse is that wave than where â—e glide Blest in the safâ—tâ— of a private tide We still have land in ken And 'cause our boat Dares not affront the weather wee 'le ne're float Farre from the shore To daring them each cloud Is big with thunder every wind speakes loud And though wild rockes about the shore appeare Yet vertue will finde roome to anchor there A Dialogue betweene ARAPHILL and CASTARA ARAPH CAstara you too fondly court The silken peace with which we cover'd are Vnquiet time may for his sport Vp from its iron den rowse sleepy warre CAST. Then in the language of the drum I will instruct my yet afrighted â—are All women shall in me be dumbe If I but with my Araphill be there ARAPH If Fate like an unfaithfull gale Which having vow'd to th' ship a faire event o th' sudden rends her hopefull saile Blow ruine will Castara then repent CAST. Love shall in that tempestuous showre Her brightest blossome like the black-thorne show VVeake friendship prospers by the powre Of fortunes Sunne I 'le in her winter grow ARAPH If on my skin the noysome skar I should o th' leprosie or canker weare Or if the sulph'rous breath of
warre Should blast my youth Should I not be thy feare CAST. In flesh may sickenesse horror move But heavenly zeale will be by it refin'd For then wee 'd like two Angels love VVithout a sense imbrace each others mind ARAPH VVere it not impious to repine 'Gainst rigid Fate I should direct my breath That two must be whom heaven did joyne In such a happy one disjoyn'd by death CAST. That 's no divource Then shall we see The rites in life were tipes o' th marriage state Our soules on earth contracted be But they in heaven their nuptials consumate To the Right Honourable HENRY Lord M. My Lord. MY thoughts are not so rugged nor doth earth So farre predominate in me that mirth Lookes not as lovely as when our delight First fashion'd wings to adde a nimbler flight To lazie time who would to have survai'd Our varied pleasures there have ever staid And they were harmelesse For obedience If frailty yeelds to the wild lawes of sence VVe shall but with a sugred venome meete No pleasure if not innocent as sweet And that 's your choyce who adde the title good To that of noble For although the blood Of Marshall Standley and ' La Pole doth flow VVith happy Brandon's in your veines you owe Your vertue not to them Man builds alone o th' ground of honour For desert's our ovvne Be that your ayme I 'le vvith Castara siâ— i th' shade from heat of businesse VVhile my vvit Is neither big vvith an ambitious ayme To build tall Pyramids i th' court of fame For after ages or to win conceit o th' present and grow in opinion great Rich in our selves we envy not the East Her rockes of Diamonds or her gold the West Arabia may be happy in the death Of her reviving Phaenix In the breath Of coole Favonius famous be the grove Of Tempe while we in each others love For that let us be fam'd And when of all That Nature made us two the funerall Leaves but a little dust which then as wed Even after death shall sleepe still in one bed The Bride and Bridegroome on the solemne day Shall with warme zeale approach our Vrne to pay Their vowes that heaven should blisse so farre their rites To shew them the faire paths to our delights To a Tombe TYrant o're tyrants thou who onely dost Clip the lascivious beauty without lust What horror at thy sight shâ—otes through each sence How powerfull is thy silent eloquence Which never flatters Thou instruct'st the proud That their swolne pompe is but an empty cloud Slave to each wind The faire those flowers they have I'resh in their cheeke are strewd upon a grave Thou tell'st the rich their I doll is but earth The vainely pleas'd that Syren-like their mirth Betrayes to mischiefe and that onely he Daâ—es welcome death whose aimes at vertue be Which yet more zeale doth to Castara move What checks me when the tombe perswades to love To CASTARA Vpon thought of Age and Death THe breath of time shall blast the flowry Spring Which so perfumes thy cheeke and with it bring So dâ—rke a mist as shall eclipse the light Of thy faire eyes in an eternall night Some melancholly chamber of the earth For that like Time devoures whom it gave breath Thy beauties shall entombe while all who ere Lov'd nobly offer up their serrowes there But I vvhose griefe no formall limits bound Beholding the darke caverne of that ground VVill there immure my selfe And thus I shall Thy mourner be and my ovvne funerall Else by the vveeping magicke of my verse Thou hadst reviv'd to triumph o're thy hearse To the Right Honourable the Lord P. My Lord. THe reverend man by magicke of his prayer Hath charm'd so that I and your daughter arâ— Contracted into one The holy lights Smil'd vvith a cheerefull lustre on our rites And every thing presag'd full happinesse To mutuall love if you 'le the omen blesse Nor grieve my Lord 't is perfected Before Afflicted Seas sought refuge on the shore From the angry Northvvind Ere th' astonisht Spring Heard in the ayre the feather'd people sing Ere time had motion or the Sunne obtain'd His province o're the day this vvas ordain'd Nor thinke in her I courted wealth or blood Or more uncertaine hopes for bad I stood On th' highest ground of fortune the world knowne No greatnesse but what waited on my throne And she had onely had that face and mind I with my selfe had th' earth to her resign'd In vertue there'â— an Empire And so sweete The rule is when it doth with beauty meete As fellow Consull that of heaven they Nor earth partake who would her disobey This captiv'd me And ere I question'd why I ought to love Castara through my eye This soft obedience stole into my heart Then found I love might lend to th'quick-ey'd art Of Reason yet a purer sight For he Though blind taught her these Indies first to see In whose possession I at length am blest And with my selfe at quiet here I rest As all things to my powre subdu'd To me Ther 's nought beyond this The whole woâ—ld is she His Muse speakes to him THy vowes are heard and thy Castara's name Is writ as faire i th' Register of Fame As th' ancient beauties which translated are By Poets up to heaven each there a starre And though Imperiall Tiber boast alone Ovids Corinaa and to Arâ— is knowne But Petrarchs Laura while our famous Thames Doth murmur Sydneyes Stella to her streames Yet hast thou Severâ—e left and she can bring As many quires of Swans as they to sing Thy glorious love Which living shall by thee The onely Sov'ragine of those waters be Dead in loves firmament no starre shall shine So nobly faire so purely chaste as thine To Vaine hope THou dreame of madmen ever changing gale Swâ—ll with thy wanton breath the gaudy saile Of glorious fooles Thou guid'st them who thee court To rocks to quick-sands or some faithlesse port Were I not mad who when secure at ease I might i th' Cabbin passe the raging Seas Would like a franticke shipboy wildly haste To climbe the giddy top of th' unsafe mast Ambition never to her hopes did faine A greatnesse but I really obtaine In my Castara Wer'â— not fondnesse then T' embrace the shadowes of true blisse And whenâ—â— My Paradise all flowers and fruits doth breed To rob a barren garden for a weed To CASTARA How happy though in an obscure fortune WEre we by fate throwne downe below our seare Could we be poore Or question Natures care In our provision She who doth afford A feather'd garment fit for every bird And onely voyce enough t' expresse delight She who apparels Lillies in their white As if in that she 'de teach mans duller sence Wh'are highest should be so in innocence She who in damaske doth attire the Rose And man t'himselfe a mockery to propose 'Mong whom the humblest Iudges grow to sit She who in purple cloathes
the Violet If thus she cares for things even voyd of sence Shall we suspect in us her providence To CASTARA WHat can the freedome of our love enthrall Castara were we dispossest of all The gifts of fortune richer yet than she Can make her slaves wee 'd in each other be Love in himselfe 's a world If we should have A mansion but in some forsaken cave Wee 'd smooth misfortune and our selves thinke then Retir'd like Princes from the noise of men To breath a while unflatter'd Each wild beast That should the silence of our cell infest With clamor seeking prey Wee 'd fanciâ— weare Nought but an avaritious Courtier VVealth's but opinion VVho thinks others more Of treasures have then we is onely poore On the death of the Right Honourable GEORGE Earle of S. BRight Saint thy pardon if my sadder verse Appeare in sighing o're thy glorious hearse To envie heaven For fame it selfe now weares Griefes Livery and onely speake in teares And pardon you Castara if a whâ—le Your memory I banish from my stile VVhen I have payd his death the tribute due Of sorrow I 'le returne to Love and you Is there a name like Talbot which a showre Can force from every eye And hath even powre To alter natures course How else should all Runne wilde with mourning and distracted fall Th' illiterate vulgar in a well tun'd breath Lament their losse and learnedly chide death For its bold rape while the sad Poets song Is yet unheard as if griefe had no tongue Th' amaz'd marriner having lost his way In the tempestuous desart of the Sea Lookes up but findes no starres They all conspire To darke themselves t'enlighten this new fire The learn'd Astronomer with daring eye Searching to tracke the Spheares through which you flie Most beauteous soule doth in his journey faile And blushing sayes the subtlest art is fraile And but truths counterfet Your flight doth reach Faire Vertue hath an Orbe beyond his reach But I grow dull with sorrow Vnkinde Fate To play the tyrant and subvert the state Of setled goodnesse Who shall henceforth stand A pure example to enforme the Land Of her loose riot Who shall counterchecke The wanton pride of greatnesse and direct Straid honour in the true magnificke way Whose life shall shew what triumph 't is t' obey The hard commands of reason And how sweet The nupâ—ials are when wealth and learning meet Who will with silent piety confute Atheisticke Sophistry and by the fruite Approve Religions tree who 'le teach his blood A Virgin law and dare be great and good Who will despise his stiles And nobly weigh In judgements ballance that his honour'd clay Hath no advantage by them Who will live So innocently pious as to give The world no scandall who 'll himselfe deny And to warme passion a cold martyr dye My griefe distracts me If my zeale hâ—th said What checks the living know I serve the dead The dead who needs no monumentall vaults With his pale ashes to intombe his faults Whose sins beget no libels whom the poore For benefit for worth the rich adore Who liv'd a solitary Pnaenix free From the commerce with mischiefe joy'd to be Still gazing heaven-ward where his thoughts did moveâ— Fed with the sacred fire of zealous love Alone he flourisht till the fatall houre Did summon him when gathering fâ—â—m each flowre Their vertuous odours from his perfum'd nest He tooke his slight to everlasting rest There shine great Lord and with prepitious eyes Looke downe and smile upon this sacrifice To my worthy Cousin Mr. E. C. In praise of the City Life in the long Vacation I Like the greene plush which your meadows weare I praise your pregnant fields which duely beare Their wealthy burden to th' industrious Bore Nor doe I disallow that who are poore In minde and fortune thither should retire But hate that he who 's warme with holy fire Of any knowledge and 'mong us may feast On Nectar'd wit should turne himselfe t' a beast And graze i th' Country Why did nature wrong So much her paines as to give you a tongue And fluent language If converse you hold With Oxen in the stall and sheepe i th' fold But now it 's long Vacation you will say The towne is empty and who ever may To th' pleasure of his Country home repaire Flyes from th' infection of our London aire In this your errour Now 's the time alone To live here when the City Dame is gone T' her house at Braâ—dford for beyond that she Imagines there 's no land but Barbary Where lies her husbands Factor When from hence Rid is the Countrey Iustice whose non-sâ—nce Corrupted had the language of the Inne Where he and his horse litter'd We beginne To live in silence when the noyse o th' Bench Not deafens Westminster nor corrupt French Walkes Fleet street in her gowne Ruffes of the Barre By the Vacations powre translated are To Cut-worke bandâ— And who were busie here Are gone to sow sedition in the shire The are by this is purg'd and the Termes strife Thus fled the City we the civill life Lead happily When in the gentle way Of noble mirth I have the long liv'd day Contracted to a moment I retire To my Castara and meet such a fire Of mutuall love that if the City were Infected that would purifie the ayre Loves Aniversarie To the Sunne THou art return'd great Light tothat blest houre In which I first by marriage sacred power Ioyn'd with Castara hearts And as the same Thy lustie is as then so is our flame Which had increast but that by loves decree 'T was such at first it ne're could greater be But tell me glorious Lampe in thy survey Of things below thee what did not decay By age to weakenesse I since that have seene The Rose bud forth and fade the tree grow greene And wither and the beauty of the field With Winter wrinkled Even thy selfe dost yeeld Something to time and to thy grave fall nigher But vertuous love is one sweet endlesse fire Against them who lay unchastity to the sex of Women THey meet but with unwholesome Springs And Summers which infectious are They heare but when the Meremaid sings And onely see the falling starre Who ever dare Affirme no woman chaste and faire Goe cure your feavers and you 'le say The Dog-dayes scorch not all the yeare In Copper Mines no longer stay But travell to the West and there The right ones see And grant all gold 's not Alchimie What mad man 'cause the glow-wormes flame Is cold sweares there 's no warmth in fire 'Cause some make forfeit of their name And slave themselves to mans desire Shall the sex free From guilt damn'd to the bondage be Nor grieve Castara though 't were fraile Thy Vertue then would brighter shine When thy example should prevaile And every womans faith be thine And were there none 'T is Majesty to rule alone To the Right Honourable and excellently
kisse your hands and take my leave To the Right Honourable Archibald Earle of Ar. IF your example be obey'd The serious few will live i th' silent shade And not indanger by the wind Or Sunshine the complexion of their mind Whose beauty weares so cleare a skin That it decayes with the least taint of sin Vice growes by custome nor dare we Reject it as a slave where it breaths free And is no priviledge denyed Nor if advanc'd to higher place envyed Wherefore your Lordship in your selfe Not lancht faâ—re in the maine nor nigh the shelfe Of humbler fortune lives at â—ase Safe from the rocks oth'shore and stormes oth'Seaâ— Your soule 's a well built City where There 's such munition that no war breeds feare No rebels wilde destractions move For you the heads have crusht Rage Envy Love And therefore you defiance bid To open enmity or mischiefe hid In fawning hate and supple pride Who are on every corner fortifide Your youth not rudely led by rage Of blood is now the story of your age Which without boast you may averre 'Fore blackest danger glory did prefer Glory not purchast by the breath Of Sycophants but by encountring death Yet wildnesse nor the feare of lawes Did make you fight but justice of the cause For but mad prodigals they are Of fortitude who for it selfe love warre When well made peace had clos'd the eyes Of discord sloath did not your youth surprize Your life as well as powre did awe The bad and to the good was the best law when most men vertue did pursue In hope by it to grow in fame like you Nor when you did to court repaire Did you your manners alter with the ayre You did your modesty retaine Your faithfull dealing the same tongue and braine Nor did all the soft flattery there Inchant you so but still you truth could heare And though your roofes were richly guilt The basis was on no wards ruine built Nor were your vassals made a prey And forâ—'t to curse the Coronation day And though no bravery was knowne To out-shine yours you onely spent your owne For 't was the indulgence of fate To give y' a moderate minde and bounteous state But I my Lord who have no friend Of fortune must begin where you doe end 'T is dang'rous to approach the fire Of action nor is 't safe farre to retire Yet better lost i th' multitude Of private men then on the state t' intrude And hazard for a doubtfull smile My stocke of fame and inward peace to spoile I le therefore nigh some murm'ring brooke That wantons through my meddowes with a booke With my Castara or some friend My youth not guilty of ambition spend To my owne shade if fate permit I le whisper some soft musique of my wit And flatter so my selfe I le see By that strange motion steale into the tree But still my first and chiefest care Shall be t'appâ—ase offended heaven with prayer And in such mold my thoughts to cast That each day shall be spent as 't were my last How ere it's sweete lust to obey Vertue though rugged is the safest way An Elegy upon The Honourable Henry Cambell sonne to to the Earle of Ar. IT s false Arithmaticke to say thy breath Expir'd to soone or irreligious death Prophan'd thy holy youth For if thy yeares Be number'd by thy vertues or our teares Thou didst the old Methusalem out-live Though Time but twenty yeares account can give Of thy abode on earth yet every houre Of thy brave youth by vertues wondrous poâ—â—re Was lengthen'd to a yeare Each well-spent day Keepes young the body but the soule makes gray Such miracles workes goodnesse and behind Th' ast left to us such stories of thy minde Fit for example that when them we read We envy earth the treasure of the dead Why doe the sinfull riot and survive The feavers of their surfets Why alive Is yet disorder'd greatnesse and all they Who the loose lawes of their wilde blood obey Why lives the gamester who doth blacke the night With cheats and imprecations Why is light Looked on by those whose breath may poyson it Who sold the vigor of their strength and wit To buy diseases and thou who faire truth And vertue didst adore lost in thy youth But I le not question fate Heaven doth conveigh Those first from the darke prison of their clay Who are most fit for heaven Thou in warre Hadst tane degrees those dangers felt which are The props on which peace safely doth subsist And through the Cannons blew and horrid mist Hadst brought her light And now wert so compleat That naught but death did want to make thee great Thy death was timely then bright soule to thee And in thy fate thou suffer'dst not 'T was we Who dyed rob'd of thy life in whose increase Of reall glory both in warre and peace We all did share and thou away we feare Didst with thee the whole stocke of honour beare Each then be his owne mourner Wee 'le to thee Write hymnes upon the world an Elegie To CASTARA WHy should we feare to melt away in death May we but dye together When beneath In a coole vault we sleepe the world will prove Religious and call it the shrine of Love There when o th' wedding eve some beautious maid Suspitious of the faith of man hath paid The tribute of her vowes o th' sudden shee Two violets sprouting from the tombe will see And cry out ye sweet emblems of their zeale Who live below sprang ye up to reveale The story of our future joyes how we The faithfull patterns of their love shall be If not hang downe yours heads opprest with dew And I will weepe and wither hence with you To CASTARA Of what we were before our creation WHen Pelion wondring saw that raine which fell But now from angry Heaven to Heaven ward swell When th' Indian Ocean did the wanton play Mingling its billowes with the Balticke sea And the whole earth was water O where then Were we Castara In the fate of men Lost underneath the waves Or to beguile Heaven's justice lurkt we in Noahs floating Isle We had no being then This fleshly frame Wed to a soule long after hither came A stranger to it selfe Those moneths that were But the last age no newes of us did heare What pompe is then in us Who th' other day Were nothing and in triumph now but clay To the Moment last past O Whither dost thou flye Cannot my vow Intreat thee tarry Thou wert here but now And thou art gone like ships which plough the Sea And leave no print for man to tracke their way O unseene wealth who thee did husband can Out-vie the jewels of the Ocean The mines of th' earth One sigh well spent in thee Had beene a purchase for eternity We will not loose thee then Castara where Shall we finde out his hidden sepulcher And wee 'le revive him Not the cruell stealth Of
fate shall rob us of so great a wealth Vndone in thriftd while we be sought his stay Ten of his fellow moments fled away To CASTARA Of the knowledge of Love WHere steepes the North-vvind when the South inspires Life in the spring and gathers into quires The scatter'd Nightingales whose subtle eares Heard first th'harmonious language of the Spheares Whence hath the stone Magneticke force t' allure Th'enamourd iron From a seed impure Or naturall did first the Mandrake grow What powreith ' Ocean makes it ebbe and flow What strange materials is the azure skye Compacted of of what its brightest eye The ever flaming Sunne what people are In th' unknowne world what worlds in every star Let curious fancies at this secret rove Castara what we know wee 'le practise Love To the Right Honourable the Countesse of C. Madam SHould the cold Muscovit whose furre and stove Can scarse prepare him heate enough for love But view the wonder of your presence he Would scorne his winters sharpest injury And trace the naked groves till he found bayse To write the beautious triumphs of your prayse As a dull Poet even he would say Th' unclouded Sun had never showne them day Till that bright minute that he now admires No more why the coy Spring so soone retires From their unhappy clyme It doth pursue The Sun and he derives his light from you Hee 'd tell you how the fetter'd Baltick Sea Is set at freedome while the yee away Doth melt at your approach how by so faire Harmonious beauty their rude manners are Reduc't to order how to them you bring The wealthiest mines below above the Spring Thus would his wonder speake For he would want Religion to beleeve there were a Saint Within and all he saw was but the shrine But I here pay my vowes to the devine Pure essence there inclos'd which if it were Not hid in a faire cloud but might appeare In its full lustre would make Nature live In a state equall to her primitive But sweetly that 's obscur'd Yet though our eye Cannot the splendor of your soule descry In true perfection by a glimmering light Your language yeelds us we can guesse how bright The Sunne within you shines and curse th' unkind Eclipse or else our selves for being blinde How hastily doth Nature build up man To leave him so imperfect For he can See nought beyond his sence she doth controule So farre his fight he nere discern'd a soule For had yours beene the object of his eye It had turn'd wonder to Idolatry The harmony of Love AMphiâ—n O thou holy shade Bring Orpheus up with thee That wonder may you both invade Hearing Loves harmony You who are soule not rudely made Vp with Materiall eares And fit to reach the musique of these spheares Harke when Castara's orbs doe move By my first moving eyes How great the Symphony of Love But 't is the destinies Will not so farre my prayer approve To bring you hither here Lest you meete heaven for Elizium there T is no dull Sublunary flame Burnes in her heart and mine But something more then hath a name So subtle and divine We know not why nor how it came Which shall shine bright till she And the whole world of love expire with me To my honoured friend Sir Ed. P. Knight YOu 'd leave the silence in which safe we are To listen to the noyse of warre And walke those rugged paths the factious tread Who by the number of the dead Reckon their glories and thinke greatnesse stood Vnsafe till it was built on blood Secure i th' wall our Seas and ships provide Abhorring wars so barb'rous pride And honour bought with slaughter in content Le ts breath though humble innocent Folly and madnesse Since 't is ods we nere See the fresh youth of the next yeare Perhaps not the chast morne her selfe disclose Againe t' out-blush th' aemulous rose Why doth ambition so the mind distresse To make us scorne what we possesse And looke so farre before us Since all we Can hope is varied misery Goe find some whispering shade neare Aâ—ne or Poe And gently 'mong their violets throw Your wearyed limbs and see if all those faire Enchantments can charme griefe or care Our sorrowes still pursue us and when you The ruin'd Capitoll shall view And statues a disorder'd heape you can Not cure yet the disease of man And banish your owne thoughts Goe travaile where Another Sun and Starres appeare And land not toucht by any covetous fleet And yet even there your selfe you le meet Stay here then and while curious exiles find New toyes for a fantastique mind Enjoy at home what 's reall here the Spring By her aeriall quires doth sing As sweetly to you as if you were laid Vnder the learn'd Thessalian shade Direct your eye-sight inward and you 'le find A thousand regions in your mind Yet undiscover'd Travell them and be Expert in home Cosmographie This you may doe safe both from rocke and shelfe Man 's a whole world within himselfe To CASTARA GIve me a heart where no impure Disorder'd passions rage Which jealousie doth not obscure Nor vanity t'expence ingage Nor wooed to madnesse by queint oathes Or the fine Rhetoricke of cloathes Which not the softnesse of the age To vice or folly doth decline Give me that heart Castara for 't is thine Take thou a heart where no new looke Provokes new appetite VVith no fresh charme of beauty tooke Or wanton stratagem of wit Not Idly wandring here and there Led by an am'rous eye or eaâ—e Aâ—ming each beautious maâ—ke to hit VVhich vertue doth to one confine Take thou that heart Castara for 't is mine And now my heart is lodg'd with thee Observe but how it still Doth listen how thine doth with me And guard it well for else it will Runne hither backe not to be where I am but 'cause thy heart is here But without discipline or skill Our hearts shall freely 'tweene us move Should thou or I want hearts wee 'd breath by love To CASTARA Of true delight WHy doth the eare so tempt the voyce That cunningly divides the ayre VVhy doth the pallaâ—e buy the choyce Delights o th' sea to enrich her fare As soone as I my eare obey The Eccho's lost even with the breath And when the sewer takes away I 'me left with no more taste then death Be curious in pursuite of eyâ—s To procreate new loves with thine Satiety makes sence despise VVhat superstition thought divine Quicke fancy how it mockes delight As we conceive things are not such The glow-worme is as warme as bright Till the deceiâ—full flame we touch VVhen I have sold my heart to Iust And bought repâ—ntance with a kisse I find the malice of my dust That told me hell contain'd a blisse The Rose yeelds her sweete blandishment Lost in the fold of lovers wreathes The violet enchants the sent When earely in the Spring she breaths But winter comes and makes each flowre
and his vertues quit him from suspitions He freely gives advice but so little peremptory is his opinion that he ingenuously submits it to an abler judgement He is open in expression of his thoughts and easeth his melancholy by inlarging it and no Sanctuary preserves so safely as he his friend afflicted He makes use of no engines of his friendship to extort a secret but if committed to his charge his heart receives it and that and it come both â—o light together In life he is the most amiable object to the soule in death the most deplorable The Funerals of the Honourable my best friend and Kinsman GEORGE TALBOT Esquire Elegie 1. T Were malice to thy fame to weepe alone And not enforce an universall groane From ruinous man and make the World complaine Yet I 'le forbid my griefe to be prophane In mention of thy prayse I 'le speake but truth Yet write more honour than ere shin'd in youth I can relate thy businesse here on earth Thy mystery of life thy noblest birth Out-shin'd by nobler vertue but how farre Th' hast tane thy journey 'bove the highest star I cannot speake nor whether thou art in Commission with a Throne or Cherubin Passe on triumphant in thy glorious way Till thou hast reacht the place assign'd we may Without disturbing the harmonious Spheares Bathe here below thy memory in our teares Ten dayes are past since a dull wonder seis'd My active soule Loud stormes of sighes are rais'd By empty griefes they who can utter it Doe not vent forth their sorrow but their wit I stood like Niobe without a grone Congeal'd into that monumentall stone That doth lye over thee I had no roome For witty grieâ—e fit onely for thy tombe And friendships monument thus had I stood But that the flame I beare thee warm'd my blood With a new life I le like a funerall fire But burne a while to thee and then expire Elegie 2. TAlbot is dead Like lightning which no part o th' body touches but first strikes the heart This word hath murder'd me Ther 's not in al The stocke of sorrow any charme can call Death sooner up For musiqu's in the breath Of thunder and a sweetnesse even i th' death That brings with it if you with this compare All the loude noyses which torment the ayre They cure Physitians say the element Siâ—ke with dull vapors and to banishment Confine infections but this fatall shreeke Without the least redresse is utter'd like The last dayes summons when Earths trophies lye A scatter'd heape and time it selfe must dye What now hath life to boast of Can I have A thought lesse darke than th' horror of the grave Now thou dost dwell below Wer 't not a fault Past pardon to raise fancie 'bove thy vault Hayle Sacred house in which his reliques sleepe Blest marble give me leave t' approach and weepe These vowes to thee for since great Talbâ—t's gone Downe to thy silence I commerce with none But thy pale people and in that confute Mistaking man that dead men are not muâ—â— Delicious beauty lend thy flatter'd eare Accustom'd to warme whispers and thou 'lt heare How their cold language tels thee that thy skin Is but a beautious shrine in which black sin Is Idoliz'd thy eyes but Spheares where lust Hath its loose motion and thy end is dust Great Atlas of the state descend with me But hither and this vault shall furnish thee With more aviso's then thy cosâ—ly spyes And show how false are all those mysteries Thy Sect receives and though thy pallace swell With envied pride 't is here that thou must dwell It will instruct you Courtier that your Art Of outward smoothnesse and a rugged heart But cheates your selfe and all those subtill wayes You tread to greatnesse is a fatall maze Where you your selfe shall loose for though you breath Vpward to pride your center is beneath And 't will thy Rhetorick false flesh confound Which flatters my fraile thoughts no time can wound This unarm'd frame Here is true eloquence Will teach my soule to triumph over sence Which hath its period in a grave and there Showes what are all our pompous surfets here Great Orator deare Talbot Still to thee May I an auditor attentive be And piously maintaine the same commerce We held in life and if in my rude verse â— to the world may thy sad precepts read I will on earth interpret for the dead Elegiâ— 3. LEt me contemplate thee faire soule though I cannot tracke the way which thou didst goe In thy coelestiall journey and my heart Expanssion wants to thinke what now thou art How bright and wide thy glories yet I may Remember thee as thou wert in thy clay Best object to my heart what vertues be Inherent even to the least thought of thee Death wâ—h toth ' vig'rous â—eate of youth brings feâ—â—â— In its leane looke doth like a Prince appeare Now glorious to my eye since it possest The wealthy empyre of that happie chest Which harbours thy rich dust for how can he Be thought a bank'rout that embraces thee Sad midnight whispers with a greedy eare I catch from lonely graves in hope to heare Nâ—wes from the dead nor can pale visions frighâ— His eyâ— who since thy death feeles no delight In mans acquaintâ—nce Mem'ry of thy faâ—e Doth in me a sublimer soule create And now my sorrow followes thee I tread The milkie way and see the snowie head Of Atlas farre below while all the high Sâ—olne buildings seeme but atomes to my eye I 'me heighten'd by my ruine and while I Weepe orâ— the vault where thy sad ashes lye My soule with thine doth hold commerce above Where we discerne the stratagems which Love Hate and ambition use to cozen man So fraile that every blast of honour can Swell him above himselfe each adverse gust Him and his glories shiver into dust How small seemes greatnesse here How not a span His empire who commands the Ocean Both that which boasts so much it 's mighty ore And th' other which with pearle â—ath pav'd its shore Nor can it greater seeme when this great All For which men quarrell so is but a ball Cast downe into the ayre to sport the starres And all our generall ruines mortall warres Depopulated states caus'd by their sway And mans so reverend wisedome but their play From thee deare Talbot living I did learne The Arts of life and by thy light discerne The truth which men dispute But by thee dead I 'me taught upon the worlds gay pride to tread And that way sooner master it than he To whom both th' Indies tributary be Elegie 4. MY name deare friend even thy expiring breath Did call upon affirming that thy death Would wound mâ— poor sad heart Sad it must be Indeed lost to all thoughts of miâ—th in thee My Lord if I with licence of your teares Which your great brother's hearse as dyamonds weares T' enrich deaths glory may but speake my
greatnesse nere withstood Since it Empire doth support But when death makes them repent They condemne the instrument And are thought Religious for 't Pitch'd downe from that height you beare How distracted will you lye When your flattering Clients flye As your fate infectious were When of all th' obsequious throng That mov'd by your eye and tongue Nâ—ne shall in the storme appeare When that abject insolence Which submits to the more great And disdaines the weaker state As misfortune were offence Shall at Court be judged a crime Though in practise and the Time Purchase wit at your expence Each small tempest shakes the proud Whose large branches vainely sprout 'Bove the measure of the roote But let stormes speake nere so loud And th' astonisht day benight Yet the just shines in a light Faire as noone without a cloud Deus Deus Meus DAVID WHere is that foole Philosophie That bedâ—am Reason and that beast dull sence Great God! when I consider thee Omnipotent Aeternall and imens Vnmov'd thou didst behold the pride Of th' Angels when they to defection fell And without passion didst provide To punish treason rackes and death in hell Thy Word created this great All i th' lower part whereof we wage such warres The upper bright and sphaericall By purer bodies tenanted the starres And though sixe dayes it thee did please To build this frame the seventh for rest t' assigne Yet was it not thy paine or ease But to teach man the quantities of Time This world so mighty and so faire So'bove the reach of all dimension If to thee God we should compare Is not the slenderst atâ—me to the Sun What then am I poore nothing man That elevate my voyce and speake of thee Since no imagination can Distinguish part of thy immensitie What am I who dare call thee God! And raise my fancie to discourse thy power To whom dust is the period Who am not sure to farme this very houre For how know I the latest sand In my fraile glasse of life doth not now fâ—ll And while I thus astonisht stand I but prepare for my owne funerall Death doth with man no order keepe It reckons not by the expence of yeares But makes the Queene and beggar weepe And nere distinguishes betweene their teares He who the victory doth gaine Falls as he him pursues who from him flyes And is by too good fortune slaine The Lover in his amorous courtship dyes The states-man suddenly expires While he for others ruine doth prepare And the gay Lady while sh' admires Her pride and curles in wanton nets her haire No state of man is fortified 'Gainst the assault of th' universall doome But who th' Almightie feare deride Pale death and meete with triumph in the tombe Quoniam ego in flagella paratus sum DAVID FIX me on some bleake precipice Where I ten thousand yeares may stand Made now a statue of ice Then by the sommer scorcht and tan'd Place me alone in some fraile boaâ—e ' Mid th' horrors of an angry Sea Where I while time shall move may floate Despairing either land or day Or under earth my youth confine To th' night and silence of a cell Where Scorpions may my limbes entwine O God! So thou forgive me hell Aeternitie when I thinke thee Which never any end must have Nor knew'st beginning and fore-see Hell is design'd for sinne a grave My frighted flesh trembles to dust My blood ebbes fearefully away Both guilty that they did to lust And vanity my youth beâ—ray My eyes which from each beautious sight Drew Spider-like blacke venome in Close like the marigold at night Opprest with dew to bath my sin My eares shut up that easie dore Which did proud fallacies admit And vow to heare no follies more Deâ—fe to the charmes of sinne and wit My hands which when they toucht some fâ—ire Imagin'd such an excellence As th' Ermines skin ungentle were Contract themselves and loose all sence But you bold sinners still pursue Your valiant wickednesse and brave Th' Almighty Iustice hee 'le subdue And make you cowards in the grave Then when he as your judge appeares In vaine you 'le tremble and lament And hope to soften him with teares To no advantage penitent Then will you scorne those treasures which So fiercely now you doate upon Then curse those pleasures did bewitch You to this sad illusion The neighb'ring mountaines which you shall Wooe to oppresse you with their weight Disdainefull will deny to fall By a sad death to ease your fate In vaine some midnight storme at sea To swallow you you will desire In vaine upon the wheele you le pray Broken with torments to expire Death at the fight of which you start In a mad fury then you 'le Court Yet hate th' expressions of your heart Which onely shall be sigh'd for sport No sorrow then shall enter in With pitty the great judges eares This moment's ours Once dead his sin Man cannot expiaâ—e with teares Militia est vita hominis To Sir Hen Per. Sir WEre it your appetite of glory which In noblest times did bravest soules bewitch To fall in love with danger that now drawes You to the fate of warre it claimes applause And every worthy hand would plucke a bough From the best spreading bay to shade your brow Since you unforc'd part from your Ladies bed Warme with the purest love to lay your head Perhaps on some rude turfe and sadly feele The nights cold dampes wrapt in a sheeâ—e of steele You leave your well grown woods and medows w ch Our Severne doth with fruitfull streames enrich Your woods where we see such large heards of Deere Your meades whereon such goodly flockes appeare You leave your Castle safe both for defence And sweetely wanton with magnificence With all the cost and cunning beautified That addes to state where nothing wants but pride These charmes might have bin pow'rful to have staid Great mindes resolv'd for action and betraid You to a glorious ease since to the warre Men by desire of prey invited are Whom either sinne or want makes desperate Or else disdaine of their owne narrow fate But you nor hope of fame or a release Of the most sober goverment in peace Did to the hazar'd of the armie bring Onely a pure devotion to the King In whose just cause whoever fights must be Triumphant since even death is victory And what is life that we to wither it To a weake wrinckled age should torture wit To finde out Natures secrets what doth length Of time deserve if we want heate and strength When a brave quarrell doth to armâ—s proyoke Why should we feare to venter this thin smoke This emptie shadow life tâ—is which the wise As the fooles Idoll soberly despise Why should we not throw willingly away A game we cannot save now that we may Gaine honour by the gift since haply when We onely shall be statue of men And our owne monuments Peace will deny Our wretched age so brave
a 'cause to dye But these are tâ—oughts And action t is doth give A soule to courage and make vertue live Which doth not dwell upon the valiant tongue Of bold Philosophie but in the strong Vndaunted spirit which encounters those Sad dangers we to fancie scarce propose Yet t is the true and highest fortitude To keepe our inward enemies subdued Not to permit our passions over sway Our actions nor our wanton flâ—sh betray The soules chaste Empire for however we To th' outward shew may gaine a victory And proudly triumph if to conquour sinne We combate not we are at warre within Vias tuas Domine demonstr a mihi WHere have I wandred In what way Horrid as night Increast by stormes did I delight Though my sad soule did often say T' was death and madnesse so to stray On thaâ— false ground I joy'd to tread Which seem'd most faire Though every path had a new snare And every turning still did lead To the darke Region of the dead But with the surfet of delight I am so tyred That now I loath what I admired And my distasted appetite So ' bhors the meate it hates the sight For should we naked sinne discry Not beautified By th' ayde of wantonnesse and pride Like some mishapen birth 't would lye A torment to th' affrighted eye But cloath'd in beauty and respect Even ore the wise How powerfull doth it tyrannize Whose monstrous forme should they detract They famine sooner would affect And since those shadowes which oppresse My sight begin To cleere and show the shape of sinne A Scorpion sooner be my guest And warme his venome in my brest May I before I grow so vile By sinne agen Be throwne off as a scorne to men May th' angry world decree t' excile Me to some yet unpeopled Isle Where while I straggle and in vaine Labor to finde Some creature that shall have a minde What justice have I to complaine If I thy inward grace retaine My God if thou shalt not exclude Thy comfort thence What place can seeme to troubled sence So melancholly darke and rude To be esteem'd a solitude Cast me upon some naked shore Where I may tracke Onely the print of some sad wracke If thou be there though the seas roare I shall no gentler calme implore Should the Cymmerians whom no ray Doth ere enlight But gaine thy grace th' have lost their night Not sinners at high noone but they 'Mong their blind cloudes have found the day Et Exaltavit Humiles HOw cheerefully th' unpartiall Sunne Gilds with his beames The narrow streames o th' Brooke which silently doth runne Without a name And yet disdaines to lend his flame To the wide channell of the Thames The largest mountaines barren lye And lightning feare Though they appeare To bid defiance to the skie Which in one houre W'have seene the opening earth devoure When in their height they proudest were But th' humble man heaves up his head Like some rich vale Whose fruites nere faile With flowres with corne and vines ore-spread Nor doth complaine Oreflowed by an ill season'd raine Or batter'd by a storme of haile Like a tall Barke with treasure fraught He the seas cleere Doth quiet steere But when they are t' a tempest wrought More gallantly He spreads his saile and doth more high By swelling of the waves appeare For the Almighty joyes to force The glorious tide Of humane pride To th' lowest ebbe that ore his course Which rudely bore Downe what oppos'd it heretofore His feeblest enemie may stride But from his ill-thatcht roofe he brings The Cottager And doth preferre Him to th' adored state of Kings He bids that hand Which labour hath made rough and â—and The all commanding Scepter beare Let then the mighty cease to boast Their boundlesse sway Since in their Sea Few sayle but by some storme are lost Let them themselves Beware for they are their owne shelves Man still himselfe hath cast away Dominus Dominantium SVpreame Divinitie Who yet Could ever finde By the bold scrutinie of wit The treasurie where thou lock'st up the wind What Majesty of Princes can A tempest awe When the distracted Ocean Swells to Sedition and obeyes no Law How wretched doth the Tyrant stand Without a boast When his rich fleeâ—e even touching land He by some storme in his owne Port sees lost Vaine pompe of life what narrow bound Ambition Is circled with How false a ground Hath humane pride to build its triumphs on And Nature how dost thou delude Our search to know When the same windes which here intrude On us with frosts and onely winter blow Breath temprate on th' adjoyning earth And gently bring To the glad field a fruitfull birth With all the treasures of a wanton Spring How diversly death doth assaile How sporting kill While one is scorcht up in the vale The other is congeald o th' neighboring hill While he with heates doth dying glow Above he sees The other hedg'd in with his snow And envies him his ice although he freeze Proud folly of pretending Art Be ever dumbe And humble thy aspiring heart When thou findest glorious Reason overcome And you A strologers whose eye Survayes the starres And offâ—r thence to prophesie Successe in peace and the event of warres Throw downe your eyes upon that dust You proudly tread And know to that resolve you must That is the scheme where all their fate may read Cogitabo pro peccato meo IN what darke silent grove Profan'd by no unholy love Where witty melancholy nere Did carve the trees or wound the ayre Shall I religious leasure winne To weepe away my sinne How fondly have I spent My youthes unvalued treasure lent To traffique for Coelestiall joyes My unripe yeares pursuing toyes Iudging things best that were most gay Fled unobserv'd away Growne elder I admired Our Poets as from heaven inspired VVhat Obeliskes decreed I fit For spencers Art and Sydnyes wit But waxing sober soone I found Fame but an Idle sound Then I my blood obey'd And each bright face an Idoll made Verse in an humble Sacrifice I offer'd to my Mistresse eyes But I no sooner grace did win But met the devill within But growne more polliticke I tooke account of each state tricke Observ'd each motion judg'd him wise VVho had a conscience fit to rise VVhom soone I found but forme and rule And the more serious foole But now my soule prepare To ponder what and where we are How fraile is life how vaine a breath Opinion how uncertaine death How onely a poore stone shall beare VVitnesse that once we were How a shrill Trumpet shall Vs to the barre as traytors call Then shall we see too late that pride Hath hope with flattery bely'd And that the mighty in command Pale Cowards there must stand Recogitabo tibi omnes annos meos ISAY TIme where didst thou those yeares inter VVhich I have seene decease My soules at war and truth bids her Finde out their hidden Sepulcher To give her troubles peace Pregnant with flowers doth not the Spring Like a late bride appeare VVhos 's fether'd Musicke onely bring Caresses and no Requiem sing On the departed yeare The Earth like some rich wanton heire VVhose Parents coffin'd lye Forgets it once lookt pale and bare And doth for vanities prepare As the Spring nere should dye The present houre flattered by all Reflects not on the last But I like a sad factor shall T' account my life each moment call And onely weepe the past My mem'ry trackes each severall way Since Reason did begin Over my actions her first sway And teacheth me that each new day Did onely vary sin Poore banckrout Conscience where are those Rich houres but farm'd to thee How carelessâ—ly I some did lose And other to my lust dispose As no rent day should be I have infected with impure Disorders my past yeares But I le to penitence inure Those that succeed There is no cure Nor Antidote but teares Cupio dissolvi Paule THe soule which doth with God unite Those gayities how doth she slight VVhich ore opinion sway Like sacred Virgin wax which shines On Altars or on Martyrs shrines How doth she burne away How violent are her throwes till she From envious earth delivered be Which doth her flight restraine How doth she doate on whips and rackes On fires and the so dreaded Axe And every murd'ring paine How soone she leaves the pride of wealth The flatteries of youth and health And fames more precious breath And every gaudy circumstance That doth the pompe of life advance At the approach of death The cunning of Astrologers Observes each motion of the starres Placing all knowledge there And Lovers in their Mistresse eyes Contract those wonders of the â—kies And seeke no higher sphere The wandring Pilot sweates to find The causes that produce the wind Still gazing on the Pole The Politician scornes all Art But what doth pride and power impart And swells the ambitious soule But he whom heavenly fire doth warme And 'gainst these powerfull follies arme Doth soberly disdaine All these fond humane misteries As the deceitfull and unwise Distempers of our braine He as a burden beares his clay Yet vainely throwes it not away On every idle cause But with the same untroubled eye Can or resolve to live or dye Regardlesse of th' applause My God! If 't is thy great decree That this must the last moment be Wherein I breath this ayre My heart obeyes joy'd to retreate From the false favours of the great And treachery of the faire When thou shalt please this soulet ' enthrowne Above impure corruption What should I grieve or feare To thinke this breathlesse body must Become a loathsome heape of dust And nere againe appeare For in the fire when Ore is tryed And by that torment purified Doe we deplore the losse And when thou shalt my soule refine That it thereby may purer shine Shall I grieve for the drosse FINIS
decrepit age Had it seene thy chast youth Who could the wealth Of time have spent in ryot or his health By surfeits forfeited if he had seene What temperance had in thy dyet beene What glorious foole had vaunted honours bought By gold or practise or by rapin brought From his fore-fathers had he understood How Talbot valued not his owne great blood Had Politiciana seene him scorning more The unsafe pompe of greatnesse then the poore Thatcht roofes of shepheards where th' unruly wind A gentler storme than pride uncheckt doth find Still free admittance their pale labors had Beene to be good not to be great and bad But he is lost in a blind vault and we Must not admire though sinnes now frequent be And uncontrol'd Since those faire tables where The Law was writ by death now broken are By death extinguish t is that Star whose light Did shine so faithfull that each ship sayl'd right Which steer'd by that Nor marvell then if we That failing lost in this worlds tempest be But to What Orbe so ere â—hou dost retyre Far from our ken t is blest while by thy fire Enlighten'd And since thou must nâ—ver here Be seene againe may I ore-take thee there Elegie 8. BOast not the rev'rend Vatican nor all The cunning Pompe of the Escuriall Though there both th' Indies met in each smal room Th' are short in treasure of this precious tombe Here is th' Epitome of wealth this chest Is Natures chiefe Exchequer hence the East When it is purified by th' generall fire Shall see these now pale ashes sparkle higher Then all the gems she vants transcending far In fragrant iustre the bright morning star T is true they now seeme darke But rather we Have by a cataract lost sight then he Though dead his glory So to us blacke night Brings darkenesse when the Sun retaines his light Thou eclips'd dust Expecting breake of day From the thicke mists about thy Tombe I 'le pay Like the just Larke the tribute of my verse I will invite thee from thy envious herse To rise and 'bout the World thy beames to spread That we may see there 's brightnesse in the dead My zeale deludes me not What perfumes come From th' happy vault In her sweete martyrdome The nard breathes never so nor so the rose When the enamor'd Spring by kissing blowes Soft blushes on her cheeke nor th' early East Vying with Paradice i th' Phoenix nest These gentle perfumes usher in the day Which from the night of his discolour'd clay Breakes on the sudden for a Soule so bright Of force must to her earth contribute light But if w' are so far blind we cannot see The wonder of this truth yet let us be Not infidels nor like dull Atheists give Our selves so long to lust till we beleive T' allay the griefe of sinne that we shall fall To a loath'd nothing in our Funerall The bad mans death is horror But the just Keepes something of his glory in his dust FINIS CASTARA THE THIRD PART LONDON Printed by Tho. Cotes for Will. Cooke 1640. A Holy Man IS onely Happie For infelicity and sinne were borne twinnes Or rather like some prodigie with two bodies both draw and expire the same breath Catholique faith is the foundation on which he erects Religion knowing it a ruinous madnesse to build in the ayre of a private spirit or on the sands of any new schisme His impietie is not so bâ—ld to bring divinity downe to the mistake of reason or to deny those misteries his apprehension reacheth not His obedience moves still by direction of the Magistrate And should conscience informe him that the command is unjust he judgeth it neverthelesse high treasoâ— by rebellion to make good his tâ—â—ets oâ— it were the basest cowardize by dissimulation of religion to preserve temporall respects Hee knowes humane pollicie but a crooked rule of action and therefore by a distrust of his owne knowledge attaines it Confounding with supernaturall illumination the opinionated judgment of the wise In prosperity he gratefully admires the bounty of the Almighty giver and useth not abuseth plenty But in adversity hee remaines unshaken and like some eminent mountaine hath his head above the clouds For his happinesse is not meteor-like exhaled from the vapors of this world but shines a fixt starre which when by misfortune it appeares to fall onely casts away the slimie matter Poverty he neither feares nor covets but cheerefully entertaines imagining it the fire which tries vertue Nor how tyrannically soever it usurpe on him doth he pay to it a sigh or wrinckle for he who suffers want without reluctancie may be poore not miserable He sees the covetous prosper by usury yet waxeth not leane with envie and when the posteritie of the impious flourish he questiones not the divine justice for temporall rewards distinguish not ever the merits of men and who hath beene of councel with the Aeternall Fame he weighes not but esteemes a smoake yet such as carries with it the sweetest odour and riseth usually from the Sacrifice of our best actions Pride he disdaines when he findes it swelling in himselfe but easily forgiveth it in another Nor can any mans error in life make him sinne in censure since seldome the folly we condemne is so culpable as the severity of our judgement He doth not malice the over-spreading growth of his aequâ—lls but pitties not despiseth the fall of any man Esteeming yet no storme of fortune dangerous but what is rais'd through our owne demerit When he lookes on others vices he values not himselfe vertuous by comparison but examines his owne defects and findes matter enough at home for reprehension In conversation his carriage is neither plausible to flattery nor reserv'd to rigor but so demeanes himselfe as created for societie In solitude he remembers his better part is Angelicall and therefore his minde practiseth the best discourse without assistance of inferiour Organs Lust iâ— the Basiliske he flyes a Serpent of the most destroying venome for it blasts al plants with the breath carries the most murdering Artillery in the eye He is ever merry but still modest Not dissolved into undecent laughter or tickled with wit scurrilous or injurious He cunningly searcheth into the vertues of others and liberally commends them but buries the vices of the imperfect in a charitable silence whose manners he reformes not by invectives but example In prayer he is frequent not apparent yet as he labours not the opinion so he foares not the scandall of being thought good He every day travailes his meditations up to heaven and never findes himself wearied with the journey but when the necessities of nature returne him downe to earth he esteemes it a place hee is condemned to Devotion is his Mistresse en which he is passionately enamord for that he hath found the most Soveraigne antidote aganst sinne and the onely balsome powerfull to cure those wounds hee hath receav'd through frailety To live he