states commands In Numbers numberlesse runs through your hands Yet this I know it neuer moues the minde From goodnesse that to goodnesse is inclinde And though it makes most men dishonest proue It cannot make your honest mindes remoue Then as your kindnesse vnto me assures Your loue so I remaine for euer yours To Mistresse Rose Anagramma SORE SOund Rose though Sore thy Anagram doth meane Mistake it not it meanes no sore vncleane But it Alludes vnto the lofty skie In which thy vertue shall both Sore and slye To my approued good friend Mr. ROBARTE CVDDNER Anagramma Record and be tru MY thoughts Record and their account is true I scarce haue better friends aliue then you A nest of Epigrams Fortune 1. T Is Fortunes glory to keepe Poets poore And cram weake witted Idiots with her store And t is concluded in the wisest schooles The blinded drab shall euer fauour fooles Epigram 2. Loue. LOue is a dying life a liuing death A vapor shadow buble and a breath An idle bable and a paltry toy Whose greatest Patron is a blinded boy But pardon loue my iudgement is vniust For what I spake of loue I meant of lust Epigram 3. Death THose that scape fortune and th' extreames of loue Vnto their longest homes by death are droue Where Caesars Kaesars Subiects Abiects must Be all alike consum'd to durt and dust Death endeth all our cares or cares encreace It sends vs vnto lasting paine or peace Epigram 4. Fame WHeÌ„ Fortune Loue Death their tasks haue doon Fame makes our liues through many ages run For be our liuing actions good or ill Fame keepes a record of our doings still By Fame Great Iulius Caesar euer liues And Fame infamous life to Nero giues Epigram 5. Time ALL making marring neuer turning Time To all that is is period and is prime Time weares out Fortune Loue and Death and Fame And makes the world forget ther proper name Ther 's nothing that so long on earth can last But in conclusion Time will lay it wast Epigram 6. Kame kathee MY Muse hath vow'd reuenge shall haue her swindge To catch a Parrot in the Woodcocks sprindge Epigram 7. Solus THe land yeelds many Poets were I gone The water sure I durst be sworne had none Epigram 8. Selfe conceit SOme Poets are whose high pitch lofty straines Are past the reach of euery vulgar wight To vnderstand which t will amaze weake braines So mysticall sophisticall they write No maruell others vnderstand them not For they scarce vnderstand themselues I wot Epigram 9. A couple ONe read my booke and said it wanted wit I wonder if he meant himselfe or it Or both if both two fooles were met I troe That wanted wit and euery foole doth soe Epigram 10. Bacchus and Apollo THe thigh-borne bastard of the thrundring Ioue When mens inuentions are of wit most hollow He with his spitefull iuice their sprites doth moue Vnto t' harmonious musicke of Apollo And in a word I would haue al men know it He must drinke wine that meanes to be a Poet. Epigram 11. Of translation I Vnderstand or know no foraigne tongue But their translations I doe much admire Much art much paines much study doth belong And at the least regard should be their hyre But yet I would the French had held togither And kept their pox and not translate them hither Epigram 12. Natures counterfeite WHen Adam was in Paradice first plac'd And with the rule of mortal things was grac'd Then roses pinkes and fragrant gilliflowers Adornd and deck'd forth Edens blessed bowres But now each Gill weares flowres each Punck hath pinks And roses garnish Gallants shooes me thinkes When rugged Winter robs fairy Floraes treasure Puncks can haue pinks and roses at their pleasure Epigram 13. The deuill take bribery A Man atach't for murdring of a man Vnto the for-man of his lury sent Two score angels begging what he can He would his conscience straine law to preuent That his offences Iudge might iudge no further But make man slaughter of his wilfull murther The verduict was manslaughter to the Iudge The Iudge demanded how it could be so The for-man said his conscience much did grudge But forty angels did perswade him no Well quoth the Iudge this case shall murther be If halfe those angels not appeare to me Thus when the law men to confusion driues The godlesse angels will preserue their liues Epigram 14. The deuill is a knaue I Shell dislikes the surplusse and the cope And calls them idle vestments of the Pope And mistresse Maude would goe to Church full faine But that the corner cap makes her refraine And Madam Idle is offended deepe The Preacher speakes so lowde she cannot sleepe Loe thus the deuill sowes contentious seed Whence sects and schismes and heresies doo breed Epigram 15. Kissing goes by fauour BEmbus the Burgomaster liues in paine With the Sciatica and the Cathar Rich Grundo of the dropsie doth complaine And with the Gowte these mizers troubled are If Tinkers Coblers Botchers be infected With Bembus Lamenesse or with Grundoes Gowte Like pocky fellowes they must be reiected And as infectious rascalls be kept out And not come neere where holesome people flocks Thus rich mens sicknesses are poore mens pocks Epigram 16. Deere no Venison PRecilla alwaies cals her husband Deere Belike she bought him at too deere a rate Or else to make the case more plaine appeere Like to a Deere she hath adorn'd his pate If it be so god Vulcan send her luck That she may liue to make her Deere a Buck. Epigram 17. Euerything is pretty when it is little THere is a saying old but not so witty That when a thing is little it is pritty This doating age of ours it finely fits Where many men thought wise haue pretty wies Epigram 18. â—â—â—eâ—ne somewhat ONe ask'd me what my Melancholy meanes I answer'd t was because I wanted meanes He ask'd what I did by my answere meane I told him still my meanes were too too meane He offer'd me to lend me pounds a score I answer'd him I was to much in score He finding me in this crosse answ'ring vaine Left me in want to wish for wealth in vaine Epigram 19. Faith without workes AMmongst the pure reformed Amsterdamers Those faithfull friday feasting capon crammers Onely in them they say true faith doth lurke But t is a lazy faith t will doe no worke O should it worke ther 's many thousand feares T' would set the world together by the eares Epigram 20. Partiallity STrato the Gallant reeles alongst the streete His adle head 's too heauy for his feete What though he sweare and swagger spurne and kick Yet men will say the Gentleman is sick And that t were good to learne where he doth dwell And helpe him home because he is not well Strait staggers by a Porter or a Carman As bumsie as a fox'd flapdragon German And though the Gentlemans disease and theirs Are parted onely with a paire
the worthy and vertuous Ladie the Lady Elizabeth Ridgeway wife to Sir Rob. Ridgewaye ELIZABETH RIDGEVVAYE Anagramma I byde Agree with Zeal THe Subiects of th' Almighties Common-weale They all in one Abide Agree with zeale Sonnet 2. Enuy and Honour COuld Enuy die if Honour were deceast She could not liue for Honour's Enuies foode Shee liues by sucking of the Noble blood And scales the lofty top of Fames high Creast Base thoughts compacted in the Abiect breast The Meager Monster doth nor harme nor good But like the wane or waxe of ebbe or flood Shee shunnes as what her gorge doth most detest Where heau'n bred honour in the Noble minde From out the Cauerns of the breast proceeds There helborne Enuie shewes her hellish kinde And Vulturlike upon their actions feedes But heere 's the ode that Honours tree shall groe When Enuies rotten stumpe shall burne in woe To the noble Knight Sir Francis Willoughby sonne and heire to Sir Perciuall Willoughby Knight of Wollerton in the County of Nottinghame FRANCIS WILLOVGHBYE Anagramma Lou Wil Banishe Greif SAd sorrow may assault men like a thiefe But spight of Enuy loue will Banish Greife Sonnet 3. Beauties luster DEw drinking Phaebus hid his golden head Balm-breathing Zepherus lay close immur'd The silly Lambs and Kyds lay all as dead Skies earth and seas all solace had abiur'd Poore men and beasts to toylesome taskes inur'd In drooping manner spent the drowsie day All but the Owle whose safety night assur'd She gladly cuts the ayre with whooting lay When loe the blossom of my blooming May From out her Cooche maiestickly doth rise Then Tytan doth his radient beames display And clouds are vanisht from the vaulty skies Sweete Zephirs gales reuiueth beasts and men Madg Howlet scuds vnto her neast agen To the Vertuous Lady and wife to Sir Francis Willoughby Knight CASSANDRAE WILLOVGHBYE Anagramma Wish Grace Aboue All ends THe power of Heauen to me such fauour sends That I wish Grace Aboue all other ends Sonnet 4. Hope and Despaire DOmestick broyles my tortur'd heart inuades Twixt wau'ring Hope and desp'rate black Despaire To prosecute my sute the one perswades The other frustrates all my hopes with cares Hope sets me on infer's shee 's fayrest faire How deire disdaine doth dwell in fowlest Cels And fell dispaire calls beauty Enuies heire Which torments me more then ten thousand hels Loe thus my former hope despaire expels Mid'st which extreames what 's best for me to doe In open armes despaire gainst me rebels Hope traytor-like giues free consent thereto And till these traytors twaine consume my city I restlesse rest to rest vpon her pitty To the Right worshipfull Master George Caluert Esquire one of the Clarkes of his Maiesties priuy Connsell GEORG CALVERT Anagramma Grace got rule VVIt Wisdome Learning Vertue all agree That in thy breast their Mansiion house shall be Sonnet 5. Three blinde Commanders BLinde fortune sightlesse loue and eyelesse death Like Great Triumue'rs swayes this earthly roome Mans actions affections and very breath Are in subiection to their fatall doome Ther 's nothing past or present or to come That in their purblinde power is not comprizd From crowne to cart from cradle to the toome All are by them defamde or eternizde Why should we then esteeme this doating life That 's in the guideance of such blind-fold rule Whose chiefest peace is a continuall strife Whose gawdy pompes the pack and man the Mule Which liues long day he beares as he is able Til deaths blacke night doth make the graue his stable To the worthy Gentleman Captaine Arthur Basset in Ireland ARTHVR BASSET Anagramma Be as tru harts TRu vertue mixt with valour Arms with Arts And all Innate in thee be as tru harts Sonnet 6. Another of the praise of musicke T Was Musick fetch'd Euridice from hell And rap'd grim Pluto with harmonious straines Renowned Orpheus did with Musick quell The fiends and ease the tortur'd of their paines The Dolphin did account it wondrous gaines To heare Arion play as he did ride Gods feinds fish fowles and sheapherds on the plaines Melodious Musick still hath magnifide And antient records plainely doe decide How braue Orlando Palatine of France When he was raging mad for Meadors bride Sweet Musicke cur'd his crazed wits mischance For Musicks onely fit for Heau'ns high quire Which though men cannot praise enough admire To the worshipfull Master Francis Ansleye of Dublinne in Ireland Esquire FRANCIS ANSLEYE Anagramma Lifes Cares Vaynn HE that to Life Eternall will Attaine Must euer here esteeme this Lifes Cares Vainn Sonnet 7. The Map of Misery LIke to the stone that 's cast in deepest waue That rests not till the bottom it hath sound So I a wretch inthrald in sorrowes caue With woe and desperations fetters bound The captiue slaue imprison'd vnder ground Doom'b there by fates t' expire his wofull daies With care orewhelm'd with griefe and sorrow drownd Makes mournefull monings and lamenting layes Accusing and accursing fortunes playes Whose wither'd Autume leauelesse leaues his tree And banning death for his to long delayes Remaines the onely poore despised hee If such a one as this the world confine His mischiefes are a sport compard with mine To the Right worshipfull and worthy Gentleman Master Henry Cooley of Carbye in the County of Kiluare in Ireland RIght worthy Sir I pray the powers aboue To make thy fortunes equall to my loue To the Noble and vertuous Lady the Lady Cecillia Ridgeway wife to the honourable Knight Sir Thomas Ridgeway Knight Barronet MOre happy and more worthy scarce is any Wife to a worthy mother vnto many Whose actions shewes they from a stock did spring Which taught them serue their heauen and earthly King Sonnet 8. In praise of musicke NO Poet crownd with euerliuing bayes Though Art like floods should from his knowledge flowe He could not write enough in Musicks prayse To which both man and Angels loue doe owe If my bare knowledge ten times more did know And had ingrost all art from Pernas hill If all the Muses should their skils bestow On me to amplifie my barren skill I might attempt in shew of my good wil In Musicks praise some idle lines to write But wanting iudgement and my accent ill I still should be vnworthy to indite And run my wit on ground like ship on shealfe For Musicks praise consisteth in it selfe To the worthy Gentleman and my very good friend Master Iohn Blencowe of Greies Inne Anagramma Noble in ech wo. LEt fortune when she dares but proue thy foe In spight of fate th' art Noble in ech woe A Cataplasmicall Satyre composed and compacted of sundry simples as salt vinegar wormewood and a little gall very profitable to cure the imposlumes of vice A Sauage rough haird Satyre needs no guide Wher 's no way from the way he cannot slide Then haue amongst you through the brakes and bries From those who to the Ceders top aspires Vnto the lowest shrub or branch
fire Go on go on and we will still admire Thine Tho Bretnor To my honest friend Iohn Taylor THy Taylors sheares foule vices wings hath clipt The seames of impious dealings are vnript So Art-like thou these captoius times hast quipt As if in Hellicon thy pen were dipt All those who gainst thy worth are Enuious lipt Thy sharpe Satyrick Muse hath nipt and snipt And to conclude thy'nuention is not chipt Or stolne or borowd begd or basely gript Then Taylor thy conceits are truely sowde And Sculler on my word it was well rowde Thine to my best power Enoch Lynde To him I loue yet neuer knew TO praise thee without knowledge were dispraise I know thy Wit in that thy selfe I raise Thy ful fetcht-strokes so wafts me o're the Strand Of deepe Conceit as bids me vnderstands That neuer Taylor shapt for such small price A Robe so couert which uncouers Vice Thy true friend Iohn Handson In Landem Authoris MOst commonly one Taylor will dispraise Anothers workmanship enuying alwaies At him that 's better then himselfe reputed Though he himselfe be but a botcher bruted So might it well be said of me my friend Should I not to thy worke some few lines lend Which to make probable this sentence tendeth Who not commends he surely discommendeth In my illiterate censure these thy rimes Deserue applause euen in these worst of times When wit is onely worthy held in those On whom smooth flattery vaine praise bestowes But I not minding with thy worth to flatter Doe know thy wit to good too toyle by water Rob Taylor To my friend Iohn Taylor THis worke of thine thou hast compilde so well It merits better wits thy worth to tell Thine Maximilian Waad To my kind friend IOHN TAILOR FYe Momus cryes what franticke fit hath firde The Pelting Sculler thus to play the Poet As if he were with Homers spirit inspir'de Cease Critticke cease and I will let thee know it The honest Sculler seeking for a fare Did meete the Muses in an eu'ning late And finding them dispos'd to take the ayre Such sollace gaue them with his Rusticke prate As there in guerdon of his homebred sport It was decreed by all the Sisters nine He should receive since other meanes was short A brimfull bowle of Heliconian Wine Since when from him such sweet conceits doth flow As merits all the praise thou canst bestow Againe IOhn Taylor heere I gladly would commend thee And wish my note exceeded Ela's straine Or that my Verse could equali Virgils vaine Which might from Momus carping brood defend thee Yet as I can I will this Reader tell I know no Sculler euer writ so well Thy friend Richard Leigh To my true friend Iohn Tailor AMongst the best that Britaine now doth beare Grac'd by Apollo and the Nimphs diuine Swolne with the Raptures of their great Ingine I thinke that fewe or none to thee comes neere They want the tru-true tutch stone of the eare Besides thy makings all are meerely thine Thou stealst no Chore not Scene nor page nor line If they doe so their workes can witnesse beare Then iustly Iacke I doe thee most esteeme Nor art thou alwaies ignorant of Art For Nature so in thee doth play her part As prodigall not lib'rall shee doth seeme Whilest thou her Champion to thy greater grace Mak'st Art to Nature euen in Art giue place Thine as I liue Iohn Moraye The Authors thanks to all those that haue written in his Commendations RIght worthy and my welbeloued friends My loue and seruice shall be all your debters A Beggers thankes is all the best Amends And in that paiment you shall all be getters For words are cheape and this my Booke affoords Your owne with double intrest words for words Yours I. T. To all in generall on whose names I haue Anagrammatized MAiesticke Sol whose eye Eclipsing Raies Shine with admired splendor or'e this land And all you Mercuries of Mars his band Whose words and swords your temples crownes with baies Your pardons grant me if I haue transgrest If you forgiue I le deale with all the rest Euer at Command in all humble seruice Iohn Tailor The Authors description of a Poet and Poesie with an Apollogie in defence of Naturall English Poetrie SHall Beggers diue into the Acts of Kings Shall Nature speake of supernat'rall things Shall Egles flights atempted be by Gnatts Shall mighty Whales be portraied out by Sprate These things I know vnpossible to be And it is as vnpossible for me That am a begger in these Kingly acts Which from the Heau'ns true Poetry extracts A supernat'rall foole by Nature I That neuer knew this high borne mystery A worthlesse gnat I know my selfe more weake Yet of the Princely Egle dare to speake A silly sprat the Ocean seekes to sound To seeke this Whale though seeking he be drown'd Then to proceed a Poets Art I know Is not compact of earthly things below Nor is of any base substantiall mettle That in the worlds rotundity doth settle But t is immortall and it hath proceeding From whence diuinest soules haue all their breeding It is a blessing heau'n hath sent to men By men it is diuulged with their pen And by that propogation it is knowne And ouer all the world disperst and throwne In verball elocution so refinde That it to Vertue animates mans mindes The blessed singer of blest Israel In this rare Art he rarely did exell He sweetely Poetyz'd in Heau'nly verses Such lines which aye eternity rehearses What Reuerend rate and glorious great esteeme Augustus Caesar did a Poet deeme Admired Virgils life doth plainely show That all the world a Poets worth may know But leauing Israels King and Romane Caesar Let 's seeke in England English Poets treasure Sir Phillip Sidney his times Mars and Muse That word and sword so worthily could vse That spight of death his Glory liu's alwaies For Conquests and for Poesie crown'd with bayes What famous men liu's in this age of ours As if the Sisters nine had left their bowres With more post hast then expeditious wings They here haue found the Helliconian springs We of our mighty Monarch IAMES may boast Who in this heau'nly Art exceeds the most Where men may see the Muses wisdome well When such a Glorious house they chose to dwell The Preacher whose instructions doth afford The soules deere food the euerliuing word If Poets skill be banisht from his braine His preaching sometimes will be but too plaine Twixt Poetry and best Diuinity There is such neere and deere affinity As t' were propinquity of brothers blood That without tone the other 's not so good The man that takes in hand braue verse to write And in Diuinity hath no insight He may perhaps make smoothe and Art-like Rimes To please the humors of these idle times But name of Poet he shal neuer merrit Thogh writing them he waste his very spirit They therefore much mistake that seeme to say How euery one that writes a
the rest You being one the best will iudge the best The ninth of February the sunne enters into Pisces Or the signe of the two fishes Pisces February NOw snow and raine and hayle and slauering fleete The Delphean God hath suckt from sea and land With exhalations on the earth they greet Powr'd downe by Iris liberall hand If foule fac'd February keepe 〈◊〉 touch He makes the toyling Plowmans prouerbe right By night by day by little and by much It fils the ditch with either blacke or white And as the hard coâ—â—â—â—â—ed butting Ram At setting forth was Tytans dayntiest dish So to conclude his feasting with a messe of fish And long in Pisces he doth not remaine But leaues the fish and fals to flesh againe To the Honourable Sir Thomas Ridgewaye Knight Barronet Treasurer at Warres in Ireland c. Thomas Ridgewaye Anagramma God Arms thy waie Againe Age is made worthy THough sinne and Hell worke mortals to betraie Yet gainst their mallice still God Armes thy waie when life and lands and all away must fade By Noble actions Age is worthy made Certaine Sonnets made in the forme of AEquiuoques on the destruction of Troy WHen Hellen was for Priams sonne a mate From Greece bereaft by Paris and his Band Which caus'd the Greekes the Trojan mindes amate Some curs'd the boy and other some they band The strumpet Queene which brought the burning brand That Illion firde and wrack'd old Priams Race And on their Names long liuing shame did brand For headstrong lust runnes an vnbounded Race This beauteous peece whose features radient blase Made Menelaus horne-mad warre to wage And set all Troy in a combustious blase Whose ten yeeres triumphes scarse was worth their wage For all their Conquests and their battring Rams Their leaders most return'd with heads like Rams To the noble Gentleman Sir Oliuer Saint-Iohn Anagramma Harts Ioyn in loue THy loyall seruice to thy King doth prooue That to thy Countrey thy Hart Ioyns in loue WIth raging madnesse and with fury fell Great Diomed and Aiax left their Tents And in the throat of death to blowes they fell To make more worke for plaisters and for tents With blood imbruing all the Phrigian Clime Whilest men like Autumne leaues drop dying downe Where some through blood and wounds to honor clime And some their mangled lims bestrowes the downe Whilest Paris with his Hellen in his Armes Imbraces her about the wastfull waste Saw many a Gallant Knight in burnisht Armes Who from their Tents made haste to make more waste Who to their Tents did nere returne againe Thus warres makes gaine a losse and losse a gaine To the noble Gentleman Sir EDVVARD BLAINEYE Knight Gouernor of Monnaahan in the North of Ireland EDVVARD BLAYNEY Anagramma Liue and Abide euer THy trustie seruice hath so oft beene tride For which thy fame liue euer and Abide HAd Priams Queene in Cradle slaine her Sonne The lust full Paris haplesse boy I meane Then Illions Towers might still haue brau'd the Sunne His death to saue their liues had beene the meane Vnlucky lucke when Iuno Venus Pallas Did craue his censure vpon Ida Mount Whence sprung the cause that Troy and Priams Pallace Were burnt which earst the skies did seeme to mount Had he beene drownd or strangled with a corde He had not rob'd Oenon of her heart Or had he di'de ere Hellen did accord With him to hâ—â—d her husband like a Harte But Troy it is thy fate this knaue and Baggage Confounds thy state and fires thy bagge and baggage To the worthy Gentleman Sir HENRY FOLIOT Gouernour of Balishannon in the North of Ireland HENRYE FOLIOTT Anagramma Honor Fitt lie THy Honor Fitlie to thy worth is fit It Honors thee and thou dost honor it TRoyes fruitfull Queene did many Children bare So braue heroike and so slout a Crew Who all in noble actions did accrue When age had made their Parents balde and bare They made their daintlesse courage to appeare Amidst the throngs of danger and debate Where wars remorselesse stroake kil'd many a Peere Whilest swords not words their counsels did debate But bloud on bloud their furie could not sate For fierce Achilles did braue Hector gore To guerdon which the Graecian in his gore Did wallow whilest the Troians laughing sate Thus did Achilles bid the world adiewe For Hectors death Reuenge did claime a due To the Right worshipfull and worthy Gentleman Sir Simon Weaston of Litchfield in the County of Stafford Knight SIMON WESTON Anagramma Mowntes Sion MOwnts Sion figures that surmounting place Where vertue 's Mownt vnto the throne of grace TEn weary yeeres these bloody broyles did last Vntill the Greeks had form'd a woodden steed Which they on Priam would bestow at last When force preuailes not falshood stands in steed False Simon who so well could forge a lie Whose traitrous eies shead many a treach'rous teare Knew well that in the horses wombe did lie The wolues that Troy did all in peeces teare Polyxena Achilles deere bought deere Was hew'de in gobbets on her louers graue King Queene and Troy for Hellen paid too deere All felt the Graecian Rage both yong and graue To Kings and Commons death's alike all one Except AEneas who escap'd alone To the truely vertuous Ladie MARIE WESTON wife to Sir Simon Weston Knight MARIE WESTON Anagramma I Won Me a Rest. WHere true borne worth's Innated in the breast There alwaies goodnesse winnes Eternall rest Certaine Sonnets variously composed vpon diuers subiects Sonnet 1. True Nobilitie GReat is the glory of the Noble minde Where life and death are equall in respect If fates be good or bad vnkinde or kinde Not proud in freedome nor in thrall deiect With courage scorning fortunes worst effect And spitting in foule Enuies cankred face True honor thus doth baser thoughts subiect Esteeming life a slaue that serues disgrace Foule abiect thoughts become the minde that 's base That deemes there is no better life then this Or after death doth feare a worser place Where guilt is paid the guerdon of Amisse But let swolne enuy swell vntill shee burst The Noble minde defies her to her worst To the Noble Gentleman Sir ROBERT RIDGEVVAY Knight son and Heire to Sir Thomas Ridgeway Knight Barronet ROBERT RIDGEVVAYE Anagramma I Regard obey vertu THough Thousands vainely passe their time away Time I Regard and Vertue I obey LO thus the burden of Adultrous guilt I showring vengeance Troy and Troians saw No Age no sexe no beauty Gold or guilt Withstood foretold Cassandraes saced saw Shee often said false Hellens beauties blast Should be the cause the mighty Graecian pow're Their names and fames with infamy should blast And how the Gods on them would vengeance pow're But poore Cassandra prophesied in vaine She clam'rous cries as t' were to sencelesse Rockes The youths of Troy in merry scornfull veine Securely slept whilst lust the cradle rockes Till bloudy burning Indignation came And all their mirth with mourning ouercame To
of broome That hath his breeding from earths teeming woombe And now I talke of broome of shrubs and ceadars Me thinkes a world of trees are now my leaders To prosecute this trauel of my pen And make comparison twixt trees and men The Ceadars and the high cloud kissing Pynes Fecundious oliues and the crooked Vynes The Elme the Ashe the Oake the Masty Beeche The Peare the Aple and the rug gownd Peache And many more for it would tedious be To name each fruitfull and vnfruitfull tree But to proceed to show how men and trees In birth in breed in life and death agrees In their beginnings they haue all one birth Both haue their naturall being from the earth And heauens high hand where he doth please to blesse Makes trees or men or fruitfull or fruitlesse In sundry vses trees doe serue mans turne To build t' adorne to feed or else to burne Thus is mans state in al degrees like theirs Some are got vp to th' top of honours stayres Securely sleeping on opinions pillow Yet as vnfruitfull as the fruitlesse willow And fill vp roomes like worthlesse trees in woods Whose goodnesse all consists in ill got goods He like the Cedar makes a goodly show But no good fruite will from his greatnesse grow Vntill he die and from his goods depart And then giues all away despight his heart Then must his friends with mourning cloth be clad With insides merry and with outsides sad What though by daily grinding of the poore By bribry and extortion got his store Yet at his death he gownes some foure score men And t is no doubt he was a good man then Though in his life he thousands hath vndone To make wealth to his cursed coffers run If at his buriall groats a peece be giuen I le warrant you his soules in hell or heauen And for this doale perhaps the beggers striues That in the throng seuenteene doe lose their liues Let no man tax me here with writing lies For what is writ I saw with mine owne eyes Thus men like barren trees are feld and lopt And in the fire to burne are quickly popt Some man perhaps whilst he on earth doth liue Part of his vaine superfluous wealth will giue To build of Almshouses some twelue or tenne Or more or lesse to harbour aged men Yet this may nothing be to that proportion Of wealth which he hath gotten by extortion What i st for man his greedy minde to serue To be the cause that thousands die and sterue And in the ende like a vaine glorious theefe Will giue some ten or twelue a poore reliefe Like robbers on the way that take a purse And giue the poore a mite to scape Gods curse But know this thou whose goods are badly gotten When thou art in thy graue consum'd and rotten Thine heire perhaps will feast with his sweet punke And Dice and Drabe and euery day be drunke Carowsing Indian Trinidado smoke Whilest thou with Sulphurous flames art like to choake Se se yond gallant in the Cloke-bagge breech He 's nothing but a trunke cram'd full of speech He 'le sweare as if gainst heauen he warres would wage And meant to plucke downe Phaebus in his rage When let a man but try him hee 's all oathes And odious lies wrapt in vnpaid for cloathes And this Lad is a Roaring boy forsooth An exlent morsell for the hangmans tooth He carelesly consumes his golden pelfe In getting which his Father damnde himselfe Whose soule perhaps in quenchlesse fire doth broile Whilest on the earth his sonne keepes leuell coile T is strang to Church what numbers dayly flocke To drinke the spring of the eternall Rocke The great soule sauing Sathan slaying word Gainst sinne death hell th' alconquering sacred sword Where high Iehouahs Trumpeters sound forth From East to West from South vnto the North For through all lands their Embasseyes are borne And neuer doth againe in vaine returne Which either is of life to life the sauor Or death to death exilde from Gods sweet fauour Which blisse or bane their 's many daily heares Who leaue their hearts at home and bring their eares And least their reckelesse heads the word should smother As soone as 't enters t'one it 's out at tother For let a Preacher preach vntill he sweats Denouncing heau'ns great wrath in thundring threats Gainst sinne and sinners Gainst high hearted pride Gainst murder which hath oft for vengeance cride Or enuie leachery Auarice or swearing Or any other vice they le giue the hearing And say the Preacher wondrous paines did take And did a very learned Sermon make But what good Reformation hence proceeds Are Mountaine words and little Mole hill deedes Tell Vsrers they are banisht from Gods hill Yet they 'le continue in extortion still Tell the proud Courtier that he is but earth He 'le o're the poore insult and bragge of birth Expostulate the great Almighties Ire And tell the murdrer hell shall be his hire Yet e're he le pocket vp the least disgrace His en'mies guts shall be his Rapiers case Tell daily drunkards hell shall be their lot Thei 'le knocke and call to haue the tother pot Tell Panders Bawdes knaues and adulteous whores How they in hell must pay their cursed scores Tell Mizer chuffes who charity do banish How they from heau'n eternally must vanish Tell all in gen'rall of their liues amisse And tell them that hels bottomlesse Abysse Must be their portions if they not repent Till true repentance heau'ns iust wrath preuent Yet when the Preacher all he can hath told Soules vnto sinne are daily bought and sold. The Mizer with his leachery of Chinke On earth will giue his dropsie soule to drinke And though the word beat on his Anuile heart From Vsury and Extortion he 'le not part The piebald Gallant to the Church will come To heare his soules saluations totall summe Yet his high pride is in such hauty dotage Forgets he 's sprung from a poore country Cotage The murdrer heares how reprobated Caine Was curst of God that had his brother slaine Yet when he 's from the Church forgets it all And stabs a man for taking of the wall Should I through all mens seu'rall actions runne I know my businesse neuer would be done The rich man hates the poore man and the poore Doth euuie gainst the rich man for his store Thus is the blest soules euerliuing bread In bounteous measure all the earth or'espread Some on the high way fall and takes no roote But is of no esteeme trode vnder foote Some falles on stones and some alights on thornes Deuour'd with fowles or choak'd with scoffs or scornes Some little portion falles in fruitfull ground Th' encrease of which is to be seldome found For let men waigh their good deedes with their bad For thousand ils one good will scarse be had And yet no doubt but God in store doth keepe His neere deere children his best flocke of sheepe For though vnto the world
taper burnt by night That wasts it selfe in giuing others light A Poet 's the most foole beneath the skies He spends his wits in making Idiots wise Who when they should their thankefulnesse returne They pay him with disdaine contempt and scorne A Puritan is like a Poets purse For both do hate the crosse what crosse is worse Epigram 41. Macanas Epitaph HEere lies the Steward of the Poets God Who whilst on earth his loued life abod Apollo's Daughters and the heires of Ioue His memorable bounty did approue His life was life to Poets and his Death Bereau'd the Muses of celestiall breath Had Phoebus fir'd him from the lofty skies That Phaenix like another might arise From our his odoriff'rus sacred embers Whose lou'd liues losse poore Poetry remembers This line is the same backward as it is forward and I will giue any man fiue shillings a peece for as many as they can make in English Lewd did I liue and euil I did dwel An Apologie for Watermen Dedicated to Master Richard WARNER the Master of his Maiesties Barge and to the rest of the Masters and Assistants of the Companie SVch imputations and such daily wrongs Are laid on Watermen by Enuious tongues To cleare the which if I should silent be T' were basenesse and stupidity in me Nor doe I purpose now with inke and pen To write of them as they are watermen But this I speake defending their vocation From slanders false and idle imputation Yet should I onely of the men but speake I could the top of Enuies Coxcombe breake For I would haue all men to vnderstand A Waterman's a man by Sea or Land And on the land and sea can seruice do To serue his King as well as other two He 'le guard his Country both on seas and shore And what a Gods name can a man doe more Like double men they well can play indeed The Soldiers and the Sailers for a need If they did yeerely vse to scoure the Maine As erst they did in wars twixt vs and Spaine I then to speake would boldly seeme to dare One Sailer with two Soldiers should compare But now sweet peace their skill at Sea so duls That many are more sit to vse their sculs Then for the sea for why the want of vse Is Arts confusion and best skils abuse And not to be too partiall in my words I thinke no Company more knaues affoords And this must be the reason because farre Aboue all Companies their numbers are And where the multitude of men most is By consequence there must be most amisse And sure of honest men it hath as many As any other Company hath any Though not of wealth they haue super fluous store Contents is a Kingdome and they seeke no more Of Mercers Grocers Drapers men shall finde Men that to loose babauiour are inclinde Of Goldsmiths Silkemen Clothworkers and Skinners When they are at the best they all are sinners And drunken rascalles are of euery Trade Should I name all I or'e the bootes should wade If Watermen be onely knaues alone Let all that 's faultlesse cast at them a stone Some may reply to my Apology How they in plying are vnmannerly And one from tother hale and pul and teare And raise and braule and curse and banne and sweare In this I le not defend them with excuses I alwaies did and doe hate those abuses The honest vse of this true trade I sing And not the abuses that from thence doe spring And sure no Company hath Lawes more strict Then Watermen which weekely they inflict Vpon offenders who are made pay duely Their fines or prison'd cause they plide vnruly They keepe no shops nor sell deceitfull wares But like to Pilgrims trauell for their fares And they must aske the question where they goe If men will goe by water yea or no Which being spoke aright the fault 's not such But any Tradesman sure will doe as much The Mercer as ye passe along the way Will aske what d' e lacke come neere I pray The Draper whose warme ware doth clad the backe Will be so bolde as aske ye what d' e lacke The Goldsmith midst his siluer and his gold To aske you what d' e lacke he will be bold Through Birchin lane who euer often goes Saies Watermen are honest men to those And if your Coate be torne before you goe Of euery rent with rending thei 'le make two This being granted as none can deny Most Trades aswell as Watermen doe plye If in their plying they doe chance to iarre They doe but like the Lawyers at the Barre Who plead as if they meant by the'ares to fall And when the Court doth rise to friendship fall So Watermen that for a fare contends The fare once gone the Watermen are friends And this I know and therefore dare maintaine That he that truely labours and takes paine May with a better Conscience sleepe in bed Then he that is with ill got thousands sped So well I like it and such loue I owe Vnto it that I le fall againe to Rowe T will keepe my health from falling to decay Get money and chase Idlenesse away I 'm sure it for Antiqnity hath stood Since the worlds drowning vniuersall flood And howsoeuer now it rise or fall The Boate in Noahs Del 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 And though our wits be like our purses bare With any Company we 'le make compare To write a Verse prouided that they be No better skild in Schollership then we And then come one come thousands nay come all And for a wager wele to Versing fall My unwilling farewell to POETRIE ADue thou two topt Clowde surmounting Mount Adue thou sacred sweet Pegasean fount Adue you rarest Sisters three times three Take all in generall this farewell of mee Full low alas lies good Mecaenas head And Bounty from the mizer world is fled I find the Thames can yeeld me more by proofe Then can the Well made with the Horses hoose Then since t is so that Poets must be poore For any thing I know I le verse no more And therefore to Conclude let all men know I le cease to write and fall againe to Rome Epilogue to those that knowes what they haue read and how to censure TO you whose eares and eyes haue heard and seene This little pamphlet anâ—â—â— an iudge betweene That which is good or tol'rable or ill If I with Artlesse Nature wanting skill Haue writ but ought that may your thoughts content My Muse hath then accomplisht her intent Your fauors can preserue me but your frownes My poore inuentions in obliuion drownes With tollerable friendship let me craue You will not seeke to spill what you may saue But for the wrimouth'd Crittick that hath read That mewes and puh's and shakes hâ—â—â—â—â—â—inelesse head And saies my education or my staâ—â—â— Doth make my verse esteem'd at lower rate To such a one this answere I doe send And bid him mend before he discommend His Enuy vnto me will fauours prooue The hatred of a foole breeds wise mens loue My Muse is iocund that her labors merits To be malign'd and scornd by Enuious spirits Thus humbly I craâ—e â—â—rdâ—â—â—â—â—â—the best Which being gaind Sir reuerence for the rest FINIS