Refrain thy dull delayes and bitter trying Of my sad heart Slain by thâ— dart If this be all my crop of hopes and fears My love my God shall have my sins my tears Free me this once and when I come to bee The pris'ner of a second miserie Bring all thy chains And wracks of horrid pains I 'le willingly embrace the dreadful chance And court my death as a deliverance Whisper no more there 's faith in womankinde Or any fixed thought to strike me blinde When each new face Their fickle vows unlace And each strange object that attempts their eye Bribes all their sense into variety Give me a heart of such a sollid frame Breathes above changes and is still the same I like no wits That flow by antique fits Nor such a whiffling love whos wandring fire Is guided by a weather-cock desire Give me a Mistris whose diviner minde Speaks her descended of the heavenly kinde Whose gloryes are No borrow'd tinsel ware Let her be yce to all the world but such As waxe to me that melts upon the touch Call not that chastity that 's proud disdain Nor plead them honest that in shew refrain Lust has that trick And stews such Rhetorick Only to raise the standard of their price And steal a verteous paint by seeming nice No I abhor those poor religious blindes Which aime to sequester our eyes mindes Love has no mask Nor can it frown or ask But in a sweet consent moves every way With its dear object like the Sun and day No either love me still or not at all I like no passions that can rise and fall No humours please In this conceal'd disease But if my Mistris strive to catch my will The Lawrel is attain'd by standing still Once more I tempt thy pitty Dearest Love And if these tears can no compassion move I 'le scorn thee more Than I have lov'd before And stanck up the salt Conducts of mine eyes To watch thy shame weep mine obsequies Christmas Day Or the Shutle of an inspired Weaver bolted against the Order of the Church for its Solemnity CHrist-mass give me my beads The word implies A plot by its ingredients Beef and Pyes A feast Apocryphal a popish rite Kneaded in dough beloved in the night The night beloved that 's as much to say By late translations not in the day An annual dark-lanthorn Jubile Catesby and Vaulx baked in conspiracie The Hierarchie of Rome the Triple Crown Confess'd in Triangles then swallow'd down With spanish Sack The eighty eight Armado Newly presented in an Ovenado O Calvin now my Cause upon thee fixes Were ere such dregs mix'd with Genevae sixes The cloyster'd steaks with salt and pepper lye Like Nunnes with patches in a Monastrie Prophaneness in a Conclave nay much more Idolatrie in crust Babylon's Whore Raked from the grave and baked by hanches then Serv'd up in coffins to unholy men Defiled with superstition like the Gentiles Of old that worship'd Onions Roots and Lentiles Did ever John of Leyden prophecy Of such an Antichrist as pudding-pye Beloved t is a thing when it appears Enough to set the Saints all by the ears In solving of the text a doubtfull sin Reformed Churches nere consented in But hold my Brethren while I preach and pray Me thinks the Manna melts and wasts away I am a man as all you are have read Of Peter's sheet how he devoutly fed Without exception therefore to dispence A little with the worm of conscience And bend unto the creature I profess Zeal and a Pye may joyn both in a mess The dearest sons may erre then why a sinner May I not eat since HVGH eat three to dinner Good Fryday WHat sable Cypress maskes the glorious Sun Rivalls the world and robs us of our Noon What Ague cramps the earth whereas time fled Why groan the graves is nature vanished Or must y shrivell'd heavens in one dread fire Rowle up in flames then languish and expire Some horrid change approaches some sad guise Nature or else the God of nature dyes Here 's more than man in this more than mankinde Death 's in pursuance or the world resign'd No common passion strikes mine eye no fate Less than the whole's extinction or debate Angels stand trembling and amaz'd the sphears Cease their bless'd harmony and turn all tears Wrapp'd in a dreadful hush so highly more Is man's redemption than his birth before To raise a world from nothing and divide Dull bodies from the thin and rarified Speaks God in every close But to renew Those ruin'd attomes when confusion threw The whole into a lumpish mass again This makes the lovely wonder soveraign To mould a man in clay then quicken that Dead body with a soule cooperate Argues a Reall Presence But when sin Has soyl'd that heavenly stamp and chain'd it in The fetters of damnation to restore That life in death transcends the love before O then behold and see if ever pain Or anguish match'd that sorrow when the slain Of God bleeds on the Cross when heaven descends In bloud to make man the heavens friends Nay more when man lay doom'd eternally To answer his own wrath even God could dye And smile upon those Wounds that Spear that Grave Which our rebellions merited and gave This love exceeds all height yet I confess 'T was God that did it how could it be less Easter Day HOw all the guard reliev'd the Romans fled Those Basilisks that seeing conquered Heaven back my faith what glorious Apâ—arition Shines in the vault what angel like condition Of Souldiers doe I see surely my fear Trebles the object t is the Gardiner Flow out my tears Th' have stollen the Lord away Come view the place whereas his body lay But yet behold the napkin and the cloathes Wrapp'd by themselves in vain you take your Oaths Hard hearted Jews For ô hee 's risen and gone Why stand you gazing what d' yee dote upon Peace be unto you O now I hear his voyce Run Peter that thy spirit may rejoyce A greater Star than that out of the East Which led the Wise-men rises in my brest See where he rides in tryumph hell death Dragg'd at his chariot wheells the powers beneath Made groveling Captives all their trophies bring Slaves to the lawrels of the glorious King Nay sin and the dull grave make up the crowd Though base yet all pris'ners at war allowd Ride on brave Prince of Souls enlarge thy T is thy own work alone to kill raise Dying to vanquish death and by thy fall bayes To be the Resurrection of us all Flow hither all believers yee that sow In tears and in a veile but darkly know Stretch hither the distrustfull hand and feel Th' impressions of the nails and barbed steel But yet forbear his word must be attended Touch me not for I am not yet ascended However feast your eyes behold the Star Of Israel's deliverer This boon to begging Moses hee 'd not give But now frail
guilty or at least so thought And if the spirit once inform beware The flesh and world but renegadoes are Thus once concluded out the Teazers run All in full cry and speed till Wat's undone So that a poor Dilinquâ—nt fleec'd and torn Seems like a man that 's creeping through a horn Findes a smooth entrance wide and fit but when Hee 's squeez'd and forc'd up through the smaler end Hee looks as gaunt and prin as he that spent A tedious twelve years in an eager Lent Or bodyes at the Resurection are On wing just rarifying into ayre The Emblem of a man the pitied Case And shape of some sad being once that was The Type of flesh and bloud the skeleton And superficies of a thing that 's gone The winter quarter of a life the tinder And body of a corps squeez'd to a cinder When no more tortures can be thought upon Mercy shall flow into oblivion Mercyful Hell thy Judges are but three Ours multiform and in pluralitie Thy calmer censures flow without recal And in one doom soules see their final all We travel with expectance Suffrings here Are but the earnests of a second fear Thy pains and plagues are infinite t is true Ours are not only infinite but new So that the dread of what 's to come exceeds The anguish of that part already bleeds This only difference swells twixt us and you Hell has the kinder Devils of the two On the happy Memory of Alderman Hoyle that hang'd himself ALL â—aile fair fruit may every crab-treâ— bear Such blosoms and so lovely every year Call yee me this the slip marry 't is well Zacheus slip'd to Heaven the Thief to Hell But if the Saints thus give 's the slip t is need To look about us to preserve the breed Th' are of the running game and thus to post In nooses blancks the reckning with their Host Here 's more than Trussum cordum I suppose That knit this knot guilt seldom singly goes A wounded soule close coupled with the sense Of sin payes home its proper recompence But hark you Sir if hast can grant the time See you the danger yet what t is to climbe â—n Kings prerogatives things beyond just When Law seems bribed to doom them must be truss'd But ô I smell your plot strong through your hose T was but to cheat the Hang man of your cloaths Else your more active hands had fairly stay'd The leasure of a Psalm Judas has pray'd But later crimes cannot admit the pause They run upon effects more than the cause Yet let me ask one question why alone One member of a corporation T is clear amongst Divines bodys and souls As jointly active so their judgment rowles Concordant in the sentence why not so In earthly suffrings States attended goe But I perceive the knack Old women say And bee 't approv'd each dog should have his day Hence sweep the Almanack Lilly make room And blanks enough for the new Saints to come All in Red letters as their faults have bin Scarlet so limbe their Anniverse of sin And to their childrens credits and their wives Be it still said they leap fair for their lives On Clarinda Praying AS when the early Lark wak'd by thâ— tears Of sweet Aurora blushing through the sphaers Mounts on her silver wings and towres the skies To offer up her morning Sacrifice To her great Diety the Sun and sings The Anthems of her joy to court the springs So here Clarinda rescued from the night Of soul-contracting slumber takes her flight Into the azure heavens and prevents The vulgar sullying of the elements By a most holy hast and stoops to fly To the great Master of requests on high No sooner was she bended on her knees But lo a cloud of Angels simpathize And strive to catch her prayers and convey Her sacred breathings ore the Milky-way Pardon me Reader if I here aver That holy contestation bred by her Amongst those Hierarchies Caelestial Almost engaged them to a Second Fall But such was the sweet plenty such the floud Of her rich soul each Angel had his load Some charged with a sigh some with a tear Each one was busied though not burd'ned there Yet blessed Saint why why such streams of brine Sure 't was for others for no sin of thine Those christal beads perhaps dropt for my Or else in pious charity for the Times Those sacred gales of grief sufficient bee crimes To waft whole worlds into eternitie No need of Sailes or Pilot there was here They knew the channel to the heavenly eare Only the officious Seraphims to woo A greater glory would be medling too O had but Sodom found in her sad state So dear so prevalent an advocate The brimstone of her Judgments had not burn'd But all her fire had into incense turn'd Or had these Noah's drunken world forerun The Ark had kept the woods nor had the Sun Bin shut up But the floud-gates of the deep Had lull'd themselves in a perpetual sleep Smell't you the Phaenix when she dying lyes Raising her issue from her obsequies Embalm'd in her own ashes so divine So pretious was the perfume of each line Sayl'd through the rubie Portal of her lips And now ore the caelestial Ocean trips Saw you a pearl clos'd in an amber womb Glowing and sparkling through its courser tombe So radiantly transparent shin'd her soul Which she in Holy blasphemy term'd foul And therefore challeng'd tears to wash that hue And stain of owned guilt she never knew O Adam hadst thou liv'd thus long to bee Made happy in thy late posteritie Thou mightst have seen that Innocence again Which thy too slippery hands could not retain Thus thus she clasp'd her God with pious zeal With melting Rhetorick till he vow'd to heal The wounds in Sion For in her there were No objects for the balm of one poor tear But least the general works of Providence Should ravish'd stop their courses in suspence In pitty to the whole Creation shee Grew silent least their destiny should bee Scored on her harmless piety O so Though yet with much regret she let him goe On Clarinda Singing AS when the Swan that warbling Prophetess Of her approaching death begins to ghess The fatal minute near summons up all The raptures of her soul to guild her fall Wracking her throat into variety Of different Diapazonâ— sweet as hie Then sings her Fpicedium to that night Of darkness whence she never more takes flight So my Clarinda sporting with her rare Harmonious Organs fill'd the ravish'd Ayre With soul-transporting notes as though she meant To breathe the world into astonishment Had the bright Lady of the flouds bin by She had bin silently content to dy Finding her self so rivall'd in each strain But that Clarinda lives to sing again If ever Artist wrought so high a key To steal a man even from himself a way And winde him up to heaven in a dream Not knowing how or when or whence he came So
man may See his God and live Here 's extasie of joy enough that when Our sins conspired with ungodly men To crucifie the Lord of life and kill His innocency by our doing ill He yet survives the gall of bitterness Nor was his soul forsaken in distress But having led Captivitie in chains He burst the bonds of death and lives and reigns And this revives our souls there 's yet agen A Monarchy beyond the reach of men Holy Thursday AS when the glorious Sun veil'd and disguis'd As by the shaddowes of the night surpris'd Disrobes his sable dress and reasumes The beauty of its splendor from the Tombes And vaults of darkness mounts the dapled skyes And guilds the heavenly wardrop as he flyes So here the Majesty of God conceal'd Under a mortal mantle unreveal'd Till the predestin'd day of its disclose Sublim'd its earth and in full lustre rose Joy'd with the shouts of Angels and the quire Of Cherubims made happyer to admire Me thinks I hear the arched sphears resound The Paeans of the Saints and give them round The tyres of heaven like claps of thunder rowl'd From pole to pole and doubled as they fould Such a diffusive glory that we see Each Saint triumphant in his victorie But is he gone for ever from our eyes Will he no more return shall we not rise Or must that cloud that closed him from our sight Stand a partition wal between the light Of his eternal day and our dull shades O that 's a horror kills as it invades No There 's a hope yet left a sure record Of mercy undenyable his Word Nay more his faithful Promise I 'le not leave You comfortless And can the Lord deceive See there his hand and seal And if you please Tâ—admit the voyce of Angels to encrease An Infant faith As you have seen him goe So he shall come again Believe it so Rejoyce then ô my soul that as thou art Rescued from death and glorified in part So thy Redeemer lives and that hee 's gone Hence to prepare thy heavenly mansion And when the trembling hearts of them that slew And peirct his pretious body quake to view The terror of his glorious return When time shall be no more the heavens burn Earth crumble into ashes and the dead Wak'd by th' Archangles voice dissepulcred And catchd up in the clouds thy greater bliss Shall meet thy sweet Redeemer with a kiss And with their eyes his glittering court survey In all the garb of that tryumphant day Yet so demean thy self in this his dear And pittied absence as if present here That at his second comming Sans all grudg He may return thy Saviour as thy Judge Whitsunday WHat strange noise strikes mine eare what suddain sound As though the rowling windes were all unbound And met at once by one joynt fury hurld To overturn the hinges of the world This Scaene fore runs some dreadfull Act to come Some greater wonder issuing from the womb Of Providence than what has pass'd our eye Sure there 's no second Son of God to dye Nor summons to the dead once more to rise And scare the bloudy City's Sacrifice Nor does the chearfull Sun dance through the sphears As though he meant to fetch his last carrears Time 's not so near its Exit nor the fall And conflagration of this circled Ball But yet behold a fire most contrary To its own nature posting from on high Kindling a sad suspition cleft in rayes As though design'd to catch all sorts of waies Sure t is no wanton flame such whifling Lights Quench with the night-mark of tempestuous nights Not daring to attempt the daye 's bright eye To judge their non-existent frippery No this descends more stayd reach'd from above ' O 't is the very God of peace and love But how so strange devided can there bee Twelve parts like Tribes couch'd in the dietie That it appears multipartite in th' dress Of Cloven Tongues what tongue can this express Yet though it seems in Sections to appear Most like the soul 'T is wholly every where The Spirit 's omnipresent nor can bee Confin'd to number measure or degree But why in fire and such myrac'lous flame Fix'd on a stay yet not consume the same Are men like Moses bush can bodyes burn Insensible and not to ashes turn The wonder 's great but not so deep as high ' Nature must needs leave work when God stands by Descend on me Great God! but in such fire May not consume but kindle my desire Descend on me in flames but such as move Winged by th' inspiration of the Dove Descend in Cloven Tongues such as dispence No double meanings in a single sense Hence all you wilde pretenders you that blaze Like Meteors lapp'd in zeal and dance the maze Of non-conformity in antique fits Yea even from your selves curss'd Hereticks Light not your frighted censors here no Quaker Frisker Baboon or Antinomian shaker Must fire his brand from hence the Spirit claims No holder-forth that dwells on second aimes But Comes t' reprove the worlds Judaick press Of Sin of Judgment and of Righteousness No strange fanatick spark that gaping flyes And leaves its Audience skared with extasies No Skipper in divinity no Hinter No radled Cardinal no dreaming minter Of words and faces no Quire of the Brisle No squib no squeaker of the puny grisle Approach this glory For the beauteous Sun Admits no maskers till the day be done No Chymical St. Martins pass the Test Till the pure Oare's exild or gone to rest Shine out bright God dispel these smoaky foggs Of schisme and heresie that smears and clogs The chariot of thy Gospell that truth may Break forth in its own glosse and proper ray That the Blue-apron'd Crackers of the times Those wilde-fire Rockets whose ambition climbes To wound the world with broils set all on fire And sink a glorious Church through base desire May dwindle to their bulks and there indite Long small-drink Anthems of the Saints good night While it contents the boyes to nod at last November and my Ld. Mayors day are past A short Ejaculation Vpon that truly worthy Patron of the Law Sr. John Bridgman Kt. and Lord Chief Justice of Chester and the Marshes of Wales deceased SHall all the Tribes of Israel thirty dayes Mourn for the death of Moses and so raise Their doubled cryes to heaven and bemoan The Light of Jacob in a Tomb unknown And Bridgman set obscurely can the Sun Withdraw its radiant splendor at high noon And the whole world not stand amaz'd to see Their glory swallow'd in eternitie Can the bright soul of Justice mount the skyes And we not fear a Deluge from our eyes Such was thy sad departure such thy flight Into the spangled heavens that the night Of a more sad dispaire hath seiz'd our beams And left us nothing but our brackish streams To offer at thy shrine And in those showers We state the day and steep the slow-pac'd hours Hence
on high Whose every limbe became a Library As therefore in the works of Nature they Which are most ripe are neerest to decay So here this neighbouring Pyramid on th' sky Drew neerest heaven when furthest from the eye And now thy Clausum's true indeed The rode's block'd up to th' many reined steed Which to each point of the world's compasse reels And tacks her glad discoveries to her keels Let then the travelling Mariner in the deep Of the Reserves of reason goe to sleep Since the grave Pole-star of the groaping sky Has suffer'd ship-wrack in mortallity He that would praise thee well through all thy parts Must ransack all the languages and arts Drain nature to th' last scruple to discry How far thou went'st in her Anatomy Then climbe from orbe to orbe gather there The pure Elixar of each star and sphear Which in thy life did club their influence With thy rich flames as one Intelligence Then raise a blazing comet to thy name As a devoted Taper to thy Fame To live the pitied shadow of that day And glorious Noon which with thee drew away When Common People dye 't is but a sight Whose grief and dole's digested in a night But when such brawny sinews of a state As thee break loose 't is like a clock whose weight Being slipp'd a side all motion 's at a stand Such sorrows doe not wet but Drown a land Could we with that brave Macedonian Spark Offer whole towns and kingdoms to the Ark Of a lost friend now floating in our eyes And make more worlds in this grief sympathize T' were but due thanks for that high soveraignty Ore many nations we enjoy'd in thee To languish any longer at thy shrine Melting the sacred sisters into brine In a salt Hecatomb of tears 't would bee But a weak faint and pale discoverie Of those few artires of life they have Since the last mortal stab giv'n in thy Grave Such was the publick universal wound That the whole bod ' of Law learning found In thy preposterous and most sad decease There 's none can probe the grief or state that case In short we lost so many Tongues in thee There 's scarce one left to mourn thine obsequie Those shallow issues which now from us rise Steal through the speechless conduits of our eyes Which turning Water Poets tumble forth Insilent eloquence to bemoan thy worth Such deep impressions has thy farewel left In every bosom every secret cleft Of each particular soul instead of verse We live thy doleful Epitaph and Hearse And what the mournful Prophet sigh'd of old Seems now broke forth as of these times foretold Each face shall gather blackness for in thee Thus gone w' are shut up in obscuritie Such borrowed dependance had our light Upon thy sun thy evening was our night But since there 's no perfection here thy glass To become gold indeed translated was Thy furnish'd soul being fill'd with all that could Be here extracted from the grosser mould Of earth's Idea in a brave disdain Drew to its proper Center that vast Main Of truth and knowledg great Jehovah hee That 's all in all to all eternitie Where now I leave thee ' midst a glorious throng Of Saints but hope to see thee ere 't be long Vpon the death of John Selden Esquire NOw thou art dead Vnequall'd Sir thy fall Confounds no less than England's funerall For when the soul departs that gave her breath We are but loathed carkases in thy death Thus Pompey's Trunck found on the Egyptian sand Rome streight pronounc'd her time was at a stand So wheÌ„ a fair ag'd Oak doth downward move We count not one Tree's loss but the whole Grove As ayre and water when once useless grown One by too much drouth one b infection The Citty and Kingdom both deplore that loss And we entitle 't one man's private cross O that Pythagoras doctrine might obtain Old souls to inform new bodyes hast again Thâ—n would the world less sense of sorrow have Nought but to life a back-door were thy Grave And like the Phoenix dy'dst in balmy spice That theÌ„ce thou might'st into new glories rise But this we hope not for 't is thy praise Alone Salomon 's None such in your dayes Learned Maimonides hence improv'd his fame That none since Moses such a Moses came Joseph's perfections had out-shin'd far more If Julius Scaliger had not writ before Thou like Melchizedeck knewst no peer nor Rich only with thy own true estimate Witness those matchless volumes that can tell mate The world how vast a soul did in thee dwell So fraught with such a Mine of knowledg we Might think thee well a living Librarie Not like our Time-enthusiasts who disclose In scurrile Pens that they can rave in prose And in such narrow hoops the conscience pent As man nere durst nor God for laws ere meant Nay souls of men with such high reins keep in That to be reasonable is counted sin No in such season'd Judgment flowd thy Pen We thence might learn what temper became men Thou nor to Sects nor to parties writt'st t is But just to point thee singular in this But wiht unwearied pain dispenc'd thy store What all past ages thought and said before Arabians Persians Hebrews Greeks and all The Sun in'ts circuit dines or sups withall Thee in their several Idioms court and bring Their common-wealths of learning to their King As tribute Selden hadst thou flourished than When Jew and Greek Creet and Arabian What each in varied Dialects said could tell Thy acquir'd pains had lam'd the miracle Thy fruitful Tongues might far as day have run To language Countreis to the posting Sun The western Climes might have bin told by thee All that the Indian voic'd Antiquitie Nor is that all for numerous speech affords Without good conduct but a Mart of words A bunch of keyes men prize not wealth but letts Where skill comes short t' unlock the cabinets A magazine of sounds in most we see Serve but to stuss and perfect Pedantrie Thy copiousness of Tongues findes matter hence It lets in matter that conveyes new sense And rat'st thy painted words embroideries But as they usher strange discoveries That East Idolatry yet had lurk'd 't is ods But for thy subject of the Syrian gods The world had still in ignorance bin held How great she was had Selden not reveal'd Those pompous Attributes Titles of renown Which King Prince Emperor challeng'd as their own Earles Marquesses Dukes all degrees Hence found them boundes fix'd for precedencies A structure so elaborate it would ask Europe's joynt labour to out-goe the task The Law of Nations ' mongst the Hebrews taught And Nature's dictates where could we have sought But from that labour'd Piece is publish'd forth To leave the world a Legacy of thy worth I name not others thy choice rarities The Hebrew Priests defence of British Seas Arundles marbles and the Hebrew wife Thy Sanhedrims Tripartite
Edmer's life With other choice which I not reckon here Least so the hidden embers I should stir Of rancor gone in some who measure test Not by their judgment but their interst Such as wit-bound themselves can faintly spare To stab with censures other choicest care Such suburb-wits their shackled judgments binde To reach the bark and dwell upon the rinde When 't was thy excellence to pursue the chase Till there was left to scruple no more place So long Alcides thought his work unsped As he to Hydra left or tayle or head Thy Plummet sinks into the depe stsound Still plunging onward till it finde the ground What worn inscriptions didst from dust relieve And from time's shipwrack didst restore to live Custom or Manners Ensigne Form or Rite What is 't thy teeming brain not brought to light Now thou hast travell'd through the world 's wide coast And left no creek nor path nor Seas uncrost And nature's utmost boundaries hast known T was time thou tookst the period of â—hine own That so thy wakeful soul dismantled hence Might meet fresh objects for Intelligence The Grecian Heroe thus when he went through As far as bounds wish'd he had more to doe So through feirce seas the angry keel is hurl'd To look out passage to another world J. V. M. A. J. C. Oxon. Vpon the incomparable Learned John Selden T Were wrong to thy great name on thee to write Who like the Sun shines best with thy own light Clocks that are made to imitate the Sun Seldom run right and true in motion With heaven's great torch whose course is regular And tells us our best acts erroneous are Our praise when best impov'd is at this stay As our faint twilight's to the bright mid-day All we can speak comes so far short of thee As doth of nature our Philosophie In thine own sphear thrice glorious star then shine Sâ—nce all our light is but a beam from thine The spotless ray originally springs From the great mass of light more splendor brings Than when through ayre 's dark Medium it reflects Where not so pure a beam the sun projects So the first shade some glasses doe present More vigor hath than to the next is lent Thus Pictures from their excellence doe fal The further off from their Originall Vpon the death of John Selden PRaise that is worthy thee who would rehearse Must dare beyond the skill of art or verse T were sawciness here least flattery for to use Where to the nine the ayd of a tenth Muse Is all too little to proclaime thy worth Who art no comet blazing seldom forth But a new Star us mortals for to tell Thou wert from heaven sent a miracle Since then none may presume to reach thy fire We may be thought no trespassers to admire Thus when we view stars that are far above T is no crime such if not to catch to love Let others speak thy richness by whole sale Twill us suffice to mention by retayle T was but the least among thy lasting pains To purge our Laws from errors the stains That long had dwelt on them to wash away By Duried Fleta's resurrection day Time's ruind monuments records out of date And rolls which ages past expos'd to fate Thou with such wondrous artifice didst revive T was not recovery but new life didst give As if those caracters year'd to dust and death Hadst re-instated with new soul and breath And though on living men t is seldom seen That men contemporarie pass a due esteem But when the carkass is dissolv'd to dust Envy gives then what to the dead is just Yet was it said of Selden none beside That he was stamp'd authentick ere he dy'd For t is Truth 's voice at Bar when thou stoodsâ— Thy self was cited for Authority I want both pen and utterance to declare by How great a Master shin'st how singular In the deep insight of the Common Laws There 's n'one make scruple to give thee the Bayes And when ' midst throng of business did a rise Some sturdy doubts unfathom'd misteriâ—s Unto the Hive Statists would soon repair Who best of Statists didst deserve the chair Laws that were forreign were so much thy own They were not more unto their natives known Civil and Canon knew'st all Kingdoms ore Yea all that ages past did know before As if the Sun and thou tri'd Masterie Whether more Countries did or Kingdoms see Joynt tenants of the world for both have gone Thy daily circle both annual have run Phaebus aim'd not more secrecies to know Than our great Selden made his Title to More I could say the grandiure of your praise Swels like a torrent on nor can I raise A Mound against it Let this Eulogie Serve for inscription then that were each eye Turn'd to a Sun the round world to survey We should despair to finde Selden like thee Like Caesar's Amphitheatre never was Is an Hyperbole that Poets pass But we shall keep on modest bounds of fame To say like thee nere sprung there such a frame Degenerate Love and Choyce MAd Heretick forbear to say or swear That there is such a Meteor as love here T is true when Adam in that perfâ—ct state Of life first went on wooing for a Mate T was pure affection that his soul did catch And love conjoin'd with God made the best match Vertue not portion was the aim he sought For Eve had scarce a smock t' her back t is thought But when once Love and Adam were exil'd Eden Love soard to heaven and man grew wilde And as his knowledg and that nobler light He first received were musled up in night Then Avarice and ambition seiz'd the heart And faculties depraved in every part Hence 't was he tugg'd and travell'd to restore That bless'd eternity he lost before As though when he fell mortal God had hid The Tree of life in earth which he forbid Hence hence he grip'd at lands and moths And a large name deep written in that dust Thus the blinde sons of men as real heirs rust Of his corruptions drew their father's cares And guilt in with their first breath which sublime And are intens'd in the decayes of time Thus matches took the High Cross and of old That golden age became an age of gold Hagling relations did their issues joyn Not to make Good but to exalt the Line And horse-course of their children at a rate Ordain'd by them not by the hands of fate And therefore Phillip's Asse laden with Oar Shallsooner take Olynthe than of yore Those royal Macedonians whose high parts Lost their esteem against such sordid hearts If the fine thing with fancies ribboned And the gay tuft of feathers on his head That perfect emblem of its empty brain Come rumbling with a Coach dagled train Of snaphaÌ„ce-vouchers can just smack its haÌ„d And call to read the catalogue of his land Run hold keep For this this this is hee That storms takes