Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A03671
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Certain selected odes of Horace, Englished; and their arguments annexed. VVith poems (antient and modern) of divers subiects, translated. Whereunto are added, both in Latin and English, sundry new epigrammes. Anagramms. Epitaphes; Carmina. English. Selections
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Horace.; Ashmore, John.
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1621
(1621)
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STC 13799; ESTC S104225
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33,306
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104
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Sabines lived thus Thus Remus and his Brother Romulus Warlick Hetruria thus to Greatnes grew Yea Rome herself to whom all Nations sue Th' admired Minion of the World thus rose And in one Wall seaven Towres did thus inclose And long before the Cretian King did raign And cruell People liv'd by Bullocks slain Good Saturn thus on Earth did spend his Daies Fearfull Alarums yet men did not raise To hatefull Wars nor on hard Anvils wrought With crackling noise for slaughter Swords were sought But now i th' Wilde-goose-Chase o'r-hal'd with Pains 'T is time to loose my froathing Horses Rains Ex M. Antonio Flaminio ad Agellum suum Sic incipit Vmbrae frigidulae c. COol Shades Air-fanning Groves With your soft Whisperings Where Pleasure smiling roves Through deawie Caves Springs And bathes her purple Wings With Flowrs inameld Ground Nature's fair Tapestry Where chattering Birds abound Flickring from Tree to Tree With Change of Melody Sweet Liberty and Leasures Where still the Muses keep O! if to those true Treasures That from your Bosoms peep I might securely creep If I might spend my Daies Remote from publike Brawls Now tuning lovely Laies Now light-foot Madrigals Ne'r checkt with sudden Calls Now follow Sleep that goes Rustling i th' green-wood Shade Now milk my Goat that knowes With her yong fearfull Cade The Pail i th' cooly Glade And with Boawls fild to th' Brims Of milky Moisture new To water my dry'd Lims And t' all the wrangling Crew Of Cares to bid Adew What Life then should I lead How like then would it bee Vnto the Gods that tread i th' starry Gallery Of true Felicity But you O Virgins sweet In Helicon thar dwell That oft the Fountains greet When you the Pleasures tell i th' Country that excell If I my Life though dear For your far dearer sake To yeeld would nothing fear From Citie 's Tumults take-mee And free i th' Country make-mee FINIS TO THE RIGHT WORSIPfull Sr. RICHARD HVTTON Knight one of his Maiesties Iustices in the Court of Common Pleas. IF my Hopes harvest Worthy Sir had not Been blasted with the Breath of dull Despaire My Muse ne'r branded with the hatefull blot Of cheap Ingratitude freed from base Care The Tribute of her Love for Causes iust Would not so long have smothered in the Dust Yet lookes Shee for one Sun-shine Day Mean while Accept these Gleanings gathered in the Fields Of good Free-holders in the blessed I le Where each one shewes as his Affection yeelds Who is most blest which none can better tell Then the sweet Singer doth of Israel Your Worships in his best indeavors to command IOH ASHMORE OF A BLESSED LIFE MARTIALIS ad seipsum vel potius ad Iulium Martialem Lib. 10. Epigr. 47. O Merrie Martial I mistake A happy Life if these not make Riches bequeath'd not got by toyle A fire ne'r out no barren Soyle No Strife seld ' Office a Minde found Still calme fit Strength a Body sound Wise Smpleness Friends equall bred No costly Fare a Boord soon spred Nights never drunk but from Cares free A gamesome Bed with Modestie Sleep making Darkness short to bee Be with thy State Content so stay Wish not nor feare thy Fatall-Day Strigillius contra Martialem O Trifling Martial t is most sure That these things a blest Life procure Sense of our Sinne an Heart relenting Griefe for our errors Tears repenting And Faith that saving Health embraceth For he that on this sure Rock placeth His ne'r-shak't Faith thar Christ alone True God our Nature hath put-on And Vs markt with Deaths blackest Letters Vnto eternall Chaines and Fetters Hath ransomd with his dearest Blood And 'twixt God's Wrath and Vs hath stood In Heaven he shall 'mong Heroës blest Crownd with unblasted Bayes still rest Perhaps thou 'l say These words are blunt Nor Romans so to speak ar wont O trifling Martial t is most sure That these things a blest Life procure Georg. Fabricius THese things true Happiness doe teach At which well-minded Christians reach God rightly and thy selfe to knowe And what thou dost thy Neighbour owe A temperate Tongue chaste Speech Heart pure A cheerfull Giver's Hand to th' Poore A Life with small and 's owne Content Vnstaind Faith and Love permanent A Minde with good Success not drunk Nor with disastrous chances shrunk But which good Hope keeps and makes bolde His Saviour Christ still to beholde Ad Martialem Lib. 5. Epigr. 21. IF that with thee dear Martial I might Securely spend my dayes as I desire If vacant time we might dispose aright And at the last to a true life retire No Princes Courts nor houses would we knowe Of mighty men nor irksome sutes would trie Nor unto greedy Lawyers would we goe Nor poare on a proud worm-gnawn Pedegree But a well-pend and lively acted Scene Small Brooks Fields Walks fair Damsels Bathes and Shades Should be the Labours we would entertaine Should be the Shops wherein we still would trade Now neither of vs lives t' himselfe Alas But doth perceive with grief of minde and see How fair Suns rise and how away they pass Fruit-less to us for which we blamed be Doth not a man to live that knowes the way Cut-off encumbrances that thence him stay Marcus Antonius Flaminius ad Steph. Saulum Sic incipiens Ne tu beatum dixeris c. THink not good Saul that hee is blest Through Cities stately Gates that goes With swarms of crouching Suters prest And noble Peers that him in close No not if in high-rooft Barnes he Fair Affricks fertile Harvests hold And Gems and polisht Ivory Possess and ruddy heaps of Gold Nor he the secret Seales that opes Of Causes or by skill profound Mounts to the Stars or by Wit gropes To finde the Treasures hid i th' Ground But him thou Blessed well mayst call That rightly doth his God adore And from his Precepts doth not fall But them than Gold esteemeth more He 's not puft-up with peoples Praise But still God's Praise to him is dear Which to maintaine and more to raise Reproches he doth willing beare And often from Earth's Cares set free His happy Soule to Heaven ascends Where it enioyes the Deïtie And parlies with celestiall Friends And so full fraught with heavenly Ioy Vnto an higher pitch he riseth Than worldly Dangers can annoy And Mens mad purposes despiseth The Shepheard so from perill farre As he secure lies in his Cave Beholds the sturdy Windes at warre With Seas that proudly swell and rave Lipsij laus vota Vitae beatae HEe 's like the gods and higher then The rest-less Race of mortall Men That wisheth not or in despaire The doubtfull Day of Death doth feare In whom Ambition doth not raigne That is not vext with hope of Gaine That trembles not at Threats of Kings Nor Darts that angry Iove down flings But firmely seated in one Place Vulgar Delights doth scorne as base That of his Life one Tenor keeps Secure that wakes secure that sleeps If I might live at mine owne pleasure I would no Office seek nor Treasure Nor captive Troups should me attend As to my Charret I ascend Drawne by white Steeds with Shouts and Cries A Spectacle to gazing Eyes In Places I remote would be Gardens and Fields should solace me There at the bubbling waters noyse I with the Muses would reioyce So when my Lachesis hath spun The thread of Life she well drew on Not unto any man a Foe I full of Years from hence would goe And Date my dayes in quiet state As my good Langius did of late Psalmus Primus DAVIDIS Beatus vir c. HEe happy is amongst the brain-sick Crue Of ill-advising men that doth not walk Nor the lewd Path of wicked men pursue Of holy things that dare profanely talke Nor in the Scorners chaire sits swoln with Pride That God contemne and Godliness deride But hee seeks-out farre-better Wayes to tread Led in the winding Labyrinth of this Life By his Creator's Lawes as a sure thread That guides him through cross-wayes of worldly Strife By it his Words and Actions he doth frame Earely and late he thinks upon the fame Hee 's like a thick-leav'd tree that planted is By the green Bank of som smooth-gliding Stream That with his fruitfull armes stretcht-forth doth bliss The Labourers Paines which Phoebus with his beam Doth ne'r so search nor Winters rage can stay But yearly Rent she to her Lord will pay So shall not the ungodly and unkinde Despisers of Gods Statutes and his Grace That with themselves at war no Rest can finde But like the Chaf are tost from place to place With every sudden blast of Winde that bloweth Which scorns their lightness and to Heaven it sheweth For when the iust Iudge comes in a bright Cloud Circled with Angels cloath'd with Maiesty The wicked daunted will cry-out aloud Casshierd from Saints for their impiety For as in good mens Wayes God takes Delight So he o'r-throwes all wicked By-wayes quite FINIS