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death_n life_n live_v world_n 13,510 5 4.9137 4 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A33439 Poems by J.C. ; with additions.; Poems. Selections Cleveland, John, 1613-1658. 1651 (1651) Wing C4684; ESTC R171391 34,856 98

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soft division 'T is true for common formall Elegies Not Bushells Wells can match a Poets eyes In wanton water-works hee 'l tune his tears From a Geneva Jig up to the Sphears But when he mourns at distance weeps aloof Now that the Conduit head is our own roof Now that the Fare is publique we may call It Britains Vespers Englands Funerall Who hath a Pensill to expresse the Saint But he hath eyes too washing off the paint There is no learning but what tears surround Like to Seths Pillars in the Deluge drown'd There is no Church Religion is grown From much of late that shee 's increast to none Like an Hydropick body ful of Rhewms First swells into a bubble then consumes The Law is dead or cast into a trance And by a Law dough-bak't an Ordinance The Lyturgy whose doom was voted next Died as a Comment upon him the text There 's nothing lives life is since he is gone But a Nocturnall Lucubration Thus you have seen deaths inventory read In the sum totall Canterburie's dead A sight would make a Pagan to baptize Himself a Convert in his bleeding eyes Would thaw the rabble that fierce beast of ours That which Agena-like weeps and devours Tears that flow brackish from their souls within Not to repent but pickle up their sin Mean time no squalid grief his look defiles He guilds his sadder fate with noble smiles Thus the worlds eye with reconciled streams Shines in his showers as if he wept his beams How could successe such villanies applaud The state in Strafford fell the Church in Laud The twins of publike rage adjudg'd to die For Treasons they should act by Prophecy The facts were done before the Laws were made The trump turn'd up after the game was plai'd Be dull great spirits and forbear to climbe For worth is sin and eminence a crime No Church-man can be innocent and high 'T is height makes Grantham steeple stand awry On I. W. A. B. of York SAy my young Sophister what think'st of this Chimera's reall Ergo falleris The Lamb and Tyger Fox and Goose agree And here concorp'rate in one Prodigie Call an Haruspex quickly let him get Sulphur and Torches and a Lawrell wet To purifie the place for sure the harms This monster will produce transcend his Charms 'T is Natures Master-piece of errour this And redeems whatever she did amiss Before from wonder and reproach this last Legitimateth all her by-blows past Loe here a Generall Metropolitan An Arch-Prelatique Presbyterian Behold his pious Garbs Canonique Face A zealous Episcopo-mastix Grace A fair blew-apron'd Priest a Lawn-sleev'd brother One Leg a Pulpit holds a Tub the other Let 's give him a fit name now if we can And make th' Apostate once more Christian Proteus we cannot call him he put on His change of shapes by a Succession Nor the Welch Weather-cock for that we find At once doth only wait upon the wind These speak him not but if you 'l name him right Call him Religious Hermaphrodite His head i' th sanctified mould is cast Yet sticks th' abominable Miter fast He still retains the Lordship and the Grace And yet has got a reverend Elders place Such acts must needs be his who did devise By crying Altars down to sacrifice To private malice where you might have seen His conscience holocausted to his spleen Unhappy Church the Viper that did share Thy greatest honours helps to make thee bare And void of all thy dignities and store Alas thine own son proves the Forrest-boar And like the Dam-destroying Cuckow he When the thick shell of his Welsh pedigree By thy warm fost'ring bounty did divide And open strait thence sprung forth parricide As if 't was just revenge should be dispatcht In thee by th' Monster which thy self hadst hatcht Despair not though in Wales there may be got As well as Lincolnshire an antidote 'Gainst the foul'st venom he can spit though 's head Were chang'd from subtill gray to poys'nous red Heaven with propitious eys will look upon Our party now the cursed thing is gone And chastise Rebells who nought else did miss To fill the measure of their sins but his Whose foul unparallel'd apostasie Like to his sacred character shall be Indelible when ages then of late More happy grown with most impartiall fate A period to his daies and time shall give He by such Epitaphs as this shall live Here Yorks great Metropolitan is laid Who Gods Anointed and his Church betraid Marke Anthony WHen as the Nightingale chanted her Vespers And the wild Forester couch'd on the ground Venus invited me in th' Evening whispers Uno a fragrant field with Roses crown'd Where she before had sent My wishes complement Unto my hearts content Plaid with me on the Green Never Mark Anthony Dallied more wantonly With the fair Egyptian Queen First on her cherry cheeks I mine eys feasted Then fear of surfeiting made me retire Next on her warm lips which when I tasted My duller spirits made active as fire Then we began to dart Each at anothers heart Arrows that knew no smart Sweet lips and smiles between Never Mark c. Wanting a glasse to plate her amber tresses Which like a bracelet rich decked mine arm Gawdier then Iuno wears when as she graces Iove with embraces more stately then warm Then did she peep in mine Eyes humour Chrystalline I in her eyes was seen As if we one had been Never Mark c. Mysticall Grammar of amorous glances Feeling of pulses the Physick of Love Rhetoricall courtings and Musicall Dances Numbring of kisses Arithmetick prove Eyes like Astronomy Streight limb'd Geometry In her hearts ingeny Our wits are sharp and keen Never Mark c. The Authors Mock-Song to Marke Anthony WHen as the Night-raven sung Pluto's Mattins And Cerberus cried three Amens at a houl When night-wandring Witches put on their pattins Midnight as dark as their faces are foul Then did the furies doom That the night-mare was come Such a mis-shapen Groom Puts down Su. Pomfret clean Never did Incubus Touch such a filthy Sus As this foul Gypsie Quean First on her goosberry cheeks I mine eyes blasted Thence fear of vomiting made me retire Unto her blewer lips which when I tasted My spirits were duller then Dun in the mire But then her breath took place Which went an ushers pace And made way for her face You may guesse what I mean Never did Incubus Touch such a filthy Sus As this foul Gypsie Quean Like Snakes ingendring were plated her tresses Or like the slimy streaks of ropy ale Uglier then Envy wears when she confesses Her head is periwig'd with adders tail But as foon as she spake I heard a harsh Mandrake Laugh not at my mistake Her head is Epicoene Never did c Mysticall Magick of conjuring wrinckles Feeling of pulses the Palmestry of Hags Scolding out belches for Rhetorick twinckles With three teeth in her head like to three gags Rainbows about her eys And her nose weather-wise
on every sence Whose breath can countermaund a pestilence She that can strike the best invention dead Till bafled Poetry hangs down her head She she it is She that contains all bliss And make the world but her Periphrasis UPON Sir THOMAS MARTIN Who subscribed a Warrant thus We the Knights and Gentlemen of the Committee c. when there was no Knight but himself HAng out a flag and gather pence apiece Which Africke never bred nor swelling Greece With stories timpany a beast so rare No Lecturers wrought cap nor Bartlemew Fare Can match him Natures whimsey one that out-vyes Tredeskin and his ark of Novelties The Gog and Magog of prodigious sights With reverence to your eyes Sir Thomas Knights But is this bigamy of titles due Are you Sir Thomas and Sir Martin too Issachar Couchant 'twixt a brace of Sirs Thou Knighthood in a pair of Panniers Thou that look'st wrapt up in thy Warlike leather Like Valentine and Orson bound together Spurs representative thou that art able To be a Voider to King Arthurs Table Who in this sacrilegious mass of all It seems ha's swallowed Windsors Hospital Pair-royal headed Cerberus his Cozen Hercules labours were a Bakers dozen Had he but trumpt on thee whose forked neck Might well have answered at the Font for Smeck But can a Knighthood on a Knighthood lie Mettal on Mettal is ill Armorie And yet the known Godfrey of Bulloin's coat Shines in exception to the Heraulds vote Great spirits move not by pedantick laws Their actions though eccentrick state the cause And Priscan bleeds with honour Caesar thus Subscrib'd two Consuls with one Iulius Tom never oaded Squire scarce Yeoman high Is Tom twice dipt Knight of a double dy Fond man whose fate is in his name betray'd It is the setting Sun doubles his shade But it s no matter for Amphibious he May have a Knight hang'd yet Sir Tom go free On the memory of Mr. Edward King drown'd in the Irish Seas I Like not tears in tune nor do I prize His artificial grief who scans his eyes Mine weep down pious beads but why should I Confine them to the Muses Rosary I am no Poet here my pen's the spout Where the Rain-water of mine eyes runs out In pitie of that Name whose fare we see Thus copi'd out in griefs Hydrography The Muses are not Mair-maids though upon His death the Ocean might turn Helicon The Sea 's too rough for verse who rhimes upon 't With Xerxes strives to fetter th' Hellespont My tears will keep no channel know no laws To guid their streams but like the waves their cause Run with disturbance till they swallow me As a description of his miserie But can his spacious virtue find a grave Within th' impostum'd bubble of a wave Whose learning if we sound we must confess The Sea but shallow and him bottomless Could not the Winds to counter-maund thy death With their whole card of Lungs redeem thy breath Or some new Island in thy rescue peep To heave thy resurrection from the deep That so the world might see thy safety wrought With no less wonder than thy self was thought The famous Stagarite who in his life Had nature as familiar as his wife Bequeath'd his Widow to survive with thee Queen Dowager of all Philosophie An ominous Legacy that did portend Thy fate and Predecessours second end Some have affirm'd that what on earth we find The sea can parallel in shape and kind Books arts and tongues were wanting but in thee Neptune hath got an Universiitie We 'l dive no more for pearls the hope to see Thy sacred reliques of mortality Shall welcome storms and make the Sea-men prize His shipwrack now more than his merchandize He shall embrace the waves and to thy Tomb As to a Royaller Exchange shall come What can we now expect water and fire Both elements our ruine do conspire And that dissolves us which doth us compound One Vatican was burnt another drown'd We of the Gown our Libraries must toss To understand the greatness of our loss Be Pupils to our grief and so much grow In learning as our sorrows overflow When we have fil'd the Rundlets of our eyes We 'l issue't forth and vent such Elegies As that our tears shall seem the Irish Seas We floating Islands living Hebrides On the same TEll me no more of Stoicks canst thou tell who 't was that when the waves began to swell The ship to sink sad passengers to call Master we perish slept secure of all Remember this and him that waking kept A mind as constant as he did that slept Canst thou give credit to his zeal and love That went to Heaven and to those flames above Wrapt in a fiery chariot Since I heard who 't was that on his knees the Vessel steer'd With hands bolt up to Heaven since I see As yet no sign of his mortality Pardon me Reader if I say he 's gone The self same journey in a watry one The Hue and Cry after Sir Iohn Presbyter WIth Hair in Characters and Lugs in Text With a splay mouth a nose circumflext With a set Ruff of Musket bore that wears Like Cartrages or linnen Bandileers Exhausted of their sulphurous Contents In Pulpit fire-works which that Bomball vents The Negative and Covenanting Oath Like two Mustachoes issuing from his mouth The Bush upon his chin like a carv'd story In a Box knot cut by the Directory Madams Confession hanging at his ear Wiredrawn through all the questions How and Where Each circumstance so in the hearing Felt That when his ears are cropt he 'l count them gelt The sweeping Cassock scar'd into a Jump A sign the Presbyter's worn to the stump The Presbyter though charm'd against mischance With the Divine right of an Ordinance If you meet any that do thus attire'em Stop them they are the tribe of Adoniram What zealous Frenzie did the Senate seize That tare the Rotchet to such Rags as these Episcopacy minc't Reforming Tweed Hath sent us Runts even of her Churches breed Lay-interlining Clergy a Device That 's nick-name to the stuff call'd Lops and Lice The Beast at wrong end branded you may trace The Devills footsteps in his cloven Face A Face of severall Parishes and sorts Like to a Sergeant shav'd at Inns of Court What mean the Eldders else those Kirk Dragoons Made up of Ears and Ruffs like Ducatoons That Hierarchy of Handicrafts begun Those new Exchange-men of Religion Sure they 're the Antick heads which plac'd without The Church go gape and disembogue a spout Like them above the Commons House have bin So long without now both are gotten in Then what Imperious in the Bishop sounds The same the Scotch Executor rebounds This stating Prelacy the Classick Rout That spake it often ere it spake it out So by an Abbies Scheleton of late I heard an Eccho Supererogate Through imperfection and the voice restore As if she had the hicop o're and o're Since they our mixt Dioc●sans