And thus they parted with exchange of harms Much blood the Monâ—â—ers lost and they their Arms Vpon the death of my Lady Rich. MAy those already cuâ—st Essexian plains Where hasty death and pining sicknesse raigns Prove all a Desart and none there make stay But savage beasts or men as ill as they There the faire light which all our Island grac'd Like Hero's taper in the windows plac'd Such fate from the malignant ayre did find As that exposed to the boystrous wind Ah cruell Heaven to snatch so soon away Her for whose life had we had time to pray With thousand vows and tears we should have sought That sad decrees suspension to have wrought But we alas no whisper of her pain Heard till t was sin to wish her here again That horrid word at once like lightning spread Strook all our eares The Lady Rich is dead Heart rending news and dreadfull to those few Who her resemble and her steps pursue That death should licence have to rage among The faire the wise the vertuous and the young The Paphian Queen from that fierce battell born With goared hand and vail so rudely torne Like terror did among th'immortals breed Taught by her wound that Godâ—sses might bleed All stand amazed but 〈◊〉 the rest Th' heroique Dâ—me whose happie wombe she blest Mov'd with just grief expostulates with Heaven Urging that promise to th' obsequious given Of longer life for nere was pious soul More apt t' obey more worthy to controul A skilfull eye at once might read the race Of Caledonian Monarchs in her face And sweet humility her look and mind At once were lofty and at once were kind There dwelt the scorn of vice and pity too For those that did what she disdain'd to doe So gentle and severe that what was bad At once her hatred and her pardon had Gracious to all but where her love was due So fast so faithfull loyall and so true That a bold hand as soon might hope to force The rowling lights of Heaven as change her course Some happie Angel that beholds her there Instruct us to record what she was here And when this cloud of soâ—row's over-blown Through the wide world wee le make her graces known So fresh the wound is and the grief so vast That all our art and power of speech is waste Here passion swayes but there the Muse shall raise Eternall monuments of louder praise There our delight complying with her fame Shall have occasion to recite thy name Faire Sacharissa and now onely faire To sacred friendship wee le an Altar reare Such as the Romanes did erect of old Where on a marble pillar shall be told The lovely passion each to other bare With the resemblance of that matchlesse paire Narcissâ—s to the thing for which he pin'd Was not more like then yours to her fair mind Save that you grac'd the severall part of life A spotlesse Virgin and a faultlesse wife Such was the sweet converse twixt her and you As that she holds with her associates now How false is hope and how regardlesse fate That such a love should have so short a date Lately I saw her sighing part from thee Alas that that the last farewell should bel So look't Astrâ—â— her remove design'd On those distressed friends she left behind Consent in vertue knit your heart so fast That still the knot in spight of death does last For as your tears and sorrow-wounded soule Prove well that on your part this bond is whole So all we know of what they doe above Is that they happy are and that they love Let darke oblivion and the hollow grave Content themselves our frailer thoughts to have Well chosen love is never taught to dye But with our nobler part invades the skie Then grieve no more that one so heavenly shap'd The crooked hand of trembling age escap'd Rather since we behold her not decay But that she vanish'd so entire away Her wondrous beauty and her goodnesse merit We should suppose that some propitious spirit In that Coelestiall forme frequented here And is not dead but ceases to appeare To the Queen Mother upon her Landing GReat Queen of Europe where thy off spring wears All the chief Crowns whose Princes are thy heirs As welcome thou to Sea girt Brittains shore As â—rst Latona who faire Cinthia bore To Delos was Here shines a Nymph as bright By thee disclos'd with like increase of light Why was her joy in Belgia confin'd Or why did you so much regard the wind Scarce could the Ocean though inrag'd have tost Thy Soveraign bark but where th' obsequious Coast Pay tribute to thy bed Romes conquering hand More vanquish'd Nations under her command Never reduc'd glad Berecinthia so Among her deathlesse Progenie did goe A wreath of Towers adorn'd her reverend head Mother of all that on Ambroâ—ia â—ed Thy godly race must sway the age to come As shee Olympus peopled with her womb Would those Commanders of mankind obey Their honoured Parent all pretences lay Down at your Royall feet compose the jarres And on the growing Turk discharge these warres The Christian Knights that sacred tomb should wrest From Pagan hands and triumph o're the East The Englands Princes and Gallias Dolphin might Like young Rinaldo and Tancredo fight In single combate by their swords again The proud Argantâ—s and fierce Soldans slain Again might wee their deeds recite And with your Thuscan exalt the sight SONG PEace babling Muse I dare not sing what you indite Her eyes refuse To read the passion which they write She strikes my Lute but if it sound Threatens to hurle it on the ground And I no lesse her anger dread Then the poore wretch that fains him dead While some fierce Lion does embrace His breathlesse corps and lick his face Wrap't up in silent fears he lies Torn all in peices if he cries Of Love ANger in hasty words or blows It self discharges on our foes And sorrow too finds some relief In tears which wait upon our grief So every passion but fond love Unto its own redresse does move But that alone the wretch inclines To what prevents his own designes Makes him lament and sigh and weep Disordred tremble fawn and creep Postures which render him despis'd Where he endeavours to be priz'd For women borne to be controul'd Stoop to the forwards and the bold Affect the haughty and the proud The gay and frollick and the loud Who first the gen'rous steed opprest Not kneeling did salute the beast But with high courage life and force Approaching tam'd th' unruly horse Unwisely we the wiser East Pity supposing them opprest With Tyrants force whose law is will By which they governe spoyle and kill Each Nymph but moderately faire Command with no lesse rigour here Should some brave Turke that walks among His twenty Lasses bright and young And beckens to the willing Dame Preferr'd to quench his present flame Behold as many Gallants here With modest guise and silent feare
love how time resumes The glory which he 〈◊〉 these flowers Though none should â—aste their sweet perfumes Yet must they live but some few houres Time what we forbear devoures Had Hellen or th' Aegyptian Queen Bin 〈◊〉 so 〈◊〉 of their graces The 〈◊〉 beauties must at leâ—gth have bin The 〈◊〉 of age which finds out faces In the most retired places Should some malignant planet bring A barren drought or ceaselesse showre Upon the Autumne or the Spring And spare us neither fruit nor flower Winter would not stay an houre Could the resolve of loves neglect Preserve ye from the violation Of comming years then more respect Were due to so divine a fashion Nor would I divulge my passion The Misers speech in a Mask BAlls of this mettall slack'd Atlanta's pace And on the amoâ—ous youth bestow'd the race Venus the Nymphs mind measuring by her own Whom the rich spoyles of Cities overthrown Had prostrated to Mars could well advise Th' adventrous lover how to gain the prise Nor leâ—â—e may Iupiter to gold ascribe When he turn'd himselfe into a bribe Who can blame â—Diana or the brazen tower That they which stood not the Almighty showre Never till then did love make Iove pat on A forme more bright and noble then his owne Nor were it just would he resume that shape That slack devotion should his thunder scape â—Twas not revenge for griev'd Apollos wrong Those asses eaâ—s on Mida's Temple hung But fond repentance of his happy wish Because his meat grew mettall like his dish Would Bacchus blesse me so I de constant hold Unto my wish and dye creating gold To my Lord of Northumberland upon the death of his Lady TO this great losse a Sea of Tears is due But the whole debt not to be paid by you Charge not your self with all nor render vain Those showers the eyes of us your servants raine Shall grief contract the largenesse of that heart In which nor fear not anger haâ— a part Vertue would blush if time should boast which cries Her sole child dead their tender mothers eyes Your minds relief where reason triumphs so Over all passions that they nere could grow Beyond their limits in your noble breast To harm another or impeach your rest This we observ'd delighting to obey One who did never from his great self stray Whose milde example seemed to engage Th' obsequious Seas and teach them not to rage The brave Emilius his great charge laid down The force of Rome and fate of Macedon In his loâ—t sons did feel the cruell stroke Of changing fortune and thus highly spoke Before Romes people we did oft implore That if the Heavens had any ill in store For your Emilâ—us they would powre it still On his own House and let you flourish still You on the barren Sea my Lord have spent Whole Springs and Summers to the publique lent Suspended all the pleasures of your life And shortned the short joy of such a wife For which your Countrey 's more obliged then For many lives of old lesse happie men You that have sacâ—ificâ—d to great a part Of youth and private bâ—sse ought to impart Your sorrow too and give your friends a right As well in your affliction as delight Then with Emilian courage bear this crosse Since publique persons onely publique losse Ought to affect and though her form and youth Her application to your will and truth That noble sweetnesse and that humble state All snatcht away by such a hasty fate Might give excuse to any common brest With the huge weight of so such grief opprest Yet let no portion of your life be stain'd With passion but your character maintain'd To the last act it is enough her Stone May honoured be with superscription Of the sole Lady who had power to move The great Northumberland to grieve and love To my Lord Admirall of his late sicknesse and Recovery VVIth joy like ours the Thracian youth invades Or pheus returning from thâ—â—Elisian shades Embrace the Hero and his stay implore Make it their publick suit he would no more Desert them so and for his Spouses sake His vanish't love tâ—mpt the Lethean lake The Laâ—ye◠〈…〉 â—rightest of that time Ambiâ—â—ous all his loâ—â—y bed to câ—â—me Their doubtfull hopes with expectation feed Who shall the faire Euridice succeed Euridice for whom his numâ—rous moan Makes listning trees and salvage mountains groan Through â—ll the aire his sounding strings dilate Sorrow like that which touch our hearts of late Your pining sicknesse and your restlesse pain At once the land affâ—cting and the main When the glad news that you were Admirall Scarce through the Nation spread 't was fear'd by all That our great Charles whose wisdome shines in you Would be perplexed how to chuse anew So more then private was the joy and griefe That at the worst it gave our soules reliefe That in our age such sense of vertue liv'd They jâ—y'd so justly and justly griev'd 〈◊〉 her fairest lights eclipsed seems Hâ—r selfe to suffer in those sharpe extreams While not from thine alone thy bloud retires But from those cheeks which all the world admires the stem thus threatned and the sap in thee Droop all the branches of that noble tree Their beauty they and we our loves suspend Nougâ—t can our wishes save thy health intend As lillies overcharg'd with raine they bend Their beauteous heads and with high heaven contend â—old thâ—e within their snowy armes and cry 〈◊〉 is too faultlesse and too young to dye So like immortalls round about thee they 〈◊〉 that they fright approaching death away Who would not languish by so fair a train To be lamented and restor'd again Or thus with-held what hasty soule would go Though to the blest ore young Adonis so Fair Venus mourn'd and with the pretious showre Of her warme tears cherish't the springing flower The next support fair hope of your great name And second pillar of that noble frame By losse of thee would no advantage have But step by step pursues thee to the grave And now relâ—ntlâ—sse fate about to end The line which backward does so far extend That antique stock which still the world supplyeâ— With bravest spirits and with brightest eyes Kinde Phoebus interposing bid me say Such storms no more shall shake that house but they Like Neptune and his Sea-borne neece shall be The shining glories of the Land and Sea With courage guard and beauty warme our age And lovers fill with like Poetique rage On the friendship betwixt Sacharissa and Amorett TEll me lovely loving paire Why so kinde and so severe Why so carelesse of our care Only to prove your selves so deare By this cunning change of hearts You the power of love controule While the boyes deluded darts Can arrive at neither soule For in vain to either breast Still beguiled love does come Where he finds a forrain gâ—uest Neither of your hearts at home Debtors thus with like designe When they never
high bed of heavenly Venus came And our next Charles whom all the stars designe Like wonders to accomplish springs from thine SONG GOe lovely rose Tell her that wasts her time and me That now she knows When I resemble her to thee How sweet and fair she seems to be Tell her that 's young And shuns to have her grace spy'd That hadst thou sprung In desarts where no men abide Thou must have uncommonded dy'd Small is the worth Of beauty from the light retir'd Bid her come forth Suffer her selfe to be desir'd And not blush so to be admir'd Then dye that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee How small a part of time they share That are so wondrous sweet and fair Thirsis Galatea Th. AS lately I on Silver Thames did ride Sad Galâ—tea on the banck I spy'd Such was her looke as sorrow taught to shine And thus she gracâ—t me with a voice divine Gal. You that can tune your sounding strings so well Of Ladies beauties and of love to tell Once change your note and let your Lutâ— report The justest griefe that ever touchâ—t the Court Th. Fair Nimph I have in your delights no â—â—â—re Nor ought to be concerned in your care Yet would I sing if I your sorrows knew And to my aid invoke no Muse but you Gal. Hear then and let your song augment our griâ—â— Which is so great as not to wish reliefe She that had all which nature gives or chance Whom fortune joyn'd with vertue to advance To all the joyes this Island could afford The greatest Mistris and the kindest Lord Who with the Royall mixt her Noble bloud And in high grace with Gloriana stood Her bounty sweetnes beauty goodnes such That none ere thought her happines too much So well inclin'd her favours to confer And kinde to all as Heaven had bin to her The virgins part the mother and the wife So well she aâ—ted in this span of life That though few years too few alas she told She seem'd in all things but in beauty old As unripe fruit whose verdant stalks doe cleave Close to the tree which grieves no lesse to leave The smiling pendant which adornes her so And 〈◊〉 Autumne on the bough shouâ—d grow So 〈◊〉 her youthfull soul not easily fore't Or from so fair so sweet a seat divorc't Hâ—r fare at once did hasty seem and slow At once too cruell and unwilling too Th. Under how hard a law are mortalls born Whom now we engage we anon must mourn What Heaven sets highest and seems not to prize Is soon removed from our wondring eyes But since the sisters did so soon untwine So 〈◊〉 a thread 〈◊〉 strive to peece the line Vouchsafe sad Nymph to let me know the Dame And to the Muses I le commend her name Make the wide Country eccho to your moan The listning trees and savage mountains groan What rocks not moved when the death is sung Of one so good so lovely and so young Gal. 'T was Hamilton whom I had nam'd before But naming her griefe lets me say no more Tabula Phoebi Daphnis ARcadia juvenis Thirsis Phoebique sacerdos Ingenti frustra Galateae ardebat amore Haud Deus ipse oâ—â—m Daphni majora canebat Nec fuit asperior Daphne neo pulcâ—rior illa Carminibus Phoebo dignis premit ille fugacem Per rupes per saxa volans per florida vates Pascua formosam nunc his componere Nimpham Hunc illis crudelem insana mâ—nte solebat Audiit illa proculmiserum Citheramque sonantâ—m Audiit at nullis respexit mota querelis Ne tamen omnino caneret desertus ad alta Sidera perculsi referunt nova carmina monâ—â—â— Sic non quaesitis cumulatus laudibus olim Elapsa reperit Daphni sua laurea Phoebus The battell of the Summer Islands Canto I. What fruit they have and how heaven smiles Vpon those late discover'd lsles AIde me Bellâ—na while the dreadfull fight Betwixt a Nation and two Whales I write Seas stain'd with goar I sing adventâ—rous toyle And how these Monsters did disarme an Iâ—le Bermudâ—â— wall'd with rocks who does not know That happy Island where hâ—ge Lemons grow And Orange trees which golden fruit doe bear the Hesperian garden boasts of â—â—ne so fair Where shining pearle corall and many a pound On the rich shore of Amber-greece is found The lofty Cedar which to heaven aspires The Prince of trees is fewell for their fires The smoak by which their loaded spits do turne For incense might on sacred Altars burn There private roofs on od'rous timber borne Such as might Pallaces for Kings adorne The sweet Palmettas a new Bacchus yeeld With leaves as ample as the broadest shield Under the shadow of whose friendly boughs They fit carrowsing where their liquor grows Figs there unplanted through the fields doe grow Such as fierce Cato did the Romans shew With the rare fruit inviting them to spoyle Carthage the mistris of so rich a soyle The naked rocks are not unfruitfull there But at some constâ—nt seasons every year Their barren top with loucious food abound And with the egges of various fowles are crown'd Tobacco is their worst of things which they To English Land-lords as their Tribute pay Such is the mould that the blest Tennant feeds On pretious fruits and payes his rent in weeds With candid plantines and the jucy Pine On choicest Melons and sweet Grapes they dine And with Potato's fat their wanton Swine Nature these Cates with such a lavish hand Powres out among them that our couâ—â—er Land Tastes of that bounty and does Cloth return Which not for warmth but ornament is worne For the kinde Spring which but salutes us here Inhabits there and courts them all the year Ripe fruits and blossomes on the same trees live At once they promise what at once they give So sweet the aire so moderate the clime None sickly lives or dyes before his time Heaven sure has kept this spot of earth uncurst To shew how all things were created first The tardy plants in our cold Orchards plac't Reserve their fruits for the next ages taste There a small graine in some few months will be A firme a lofty and a spacious tree The Parma christi and the fair Papah Now but a seed preventing natures law In halfe the circle of the hafty year Project a shade and lovely fruit doe wear And as their trees in our dull Region set But faintly grow and no perfection get So in this Northerne tract our hoaâ—â—er throats Utter unripe and ill constrained notes Where the supporter of the Poets stile Phoebus on them eternally does smile O how I long my carelesse limbs to lay Under the plantanes shade and all the day With am'rous eyes my fancy entertaine Invoke the Muses and improve my veine No passion there in my free breasts should move None but the sweet and best of passions love There while I sing if gentle love be by That
power that gave The peace and glory which these alleys have Embroydred so with flowers where she stood That it became a garden of wood Her presence has such more then humane grace That it can civilize the rudest place And beauty too and order can impart Where nature nere intended it nor art The plants acknowledge this and her admire No lesse then those of old did Orpheus Lire If she sit downe with tops all toward her bow'd They round about her into arbours crowd Or if she walke in even ranks they stand Like some well marshall'd and obsequious band Amphion so made stones and timber leap Into fair figures from a confus'd heap And in the symetry of her parts is found A power like that of harmony in sound Yeâ— lofâ—y beeches tell this matchlesse dame That if together ye feâ—d all on one flame It could not equalize the hundred part Of what her eyes have kindled in my heart Goe boy and carve this passion on the barke Of yonder tree which stands the sacred marke Of noble Sidneys birth when such beninge Such more then mortall making stars did shine That there they cannot buâ— for ever prove The monument and pledge of humble love His humble love whose hope shall nere rise higher Then for a pardon that he dares admire To my Lord of Leiâ—â—ster NOt that thy trees at Pens-hurst grone Oppressed with their timely load And seem to make their silent moan That their great Lord is now abroad They to delight his taste or eye Would spend themselves in fruit and dye Not that thy harmlesse Deere repine And thinke themselves unjustly staine By any other hand then thine Whose arrows they would gladly staine No nor thy frienâ—s which hold too deare That peace with France which keeps thee there All these are lesse then that great cause Which none exacts your presence here Wherein there meet the divers laws Of publiqae and domestique care For one bright Nimph our youth contendâ— And on your prudent choice depends Not the bright shield of Thetis sun For which such steroe debate did rise That the great Ajax Telemon â—â—efus'd to live without the prize Those Achave Peers did more engage Then she the gallants of our age That beam of beauty which begun To warme us so when thou wert here Now scorches like the raging sun When Syriâ—s does first appeare O six this slame and let despaire Redeem the rest from endlesse careâ— To my young Lady Lucy Sidney VVHy came I so untimely forth Into a world which wanting thee Could entertaine us with no worth Or shadow of felicity That time should me so far remove From that which I was borne to love Yet fairest blossome doe not slight That age which you must know so soon The rosie morne resignes her light And milder glory to the moon And then what wonders shall you doe Whole dawning beauâ—y warmes us so Hope waits upon the slowry prime And summer though it be lestle gay Yet is not look't on as a time Of declination or decay For with a full hand that doth bring All that was promis'd by the spring Of the Lady who can sleep when she pleases NO wonder sleep from carefull lovers â—lyes To bathe himself in Sacharissa's eyes As faire Aftrea once from earth to heaven By strife and loud impiety was driven So with our plaints offended and our tears Wife Somnus to that Paradise repaires Waits on her will and wretches does forsake To court the nimph for whom those Wretches Wake More proud then Phoeâ—us of his throne of gold Is the soft god those softer lims to hold Nor would exchange with love to hide the skies In darkning clouds the power to close her eyes Eyes which so far all other lights controul They Warme our mortall parts but these our soule Let her free spirit whose unconquer'd breast Holds such deep quiet and untroubled rest Know that though Venus and her son should spare Her Rebell heart and never teach her care Yet Hymen may inforce her vigils keep And for anothers joy suspend her sleep Of the mis-repore of her being painted As when a sort of Wolves infelt the night With their wilde howlings at fair Cinthia's light The noyse may chase sweet slumber from our eyes But never reach the mistresse of the skies So with the news of Sacharissa's wrongs Her vexed servants blame those envious tonguâ—â— Call love to witnesse that no painted fire Can scorch men so or kindle such desire While unconcerned she seems mov'd no more With this new malice then our loves before But from the height of her great mind looks down On both our passions without smile or frown So little care of what is done below Hath the bright dame whom heaven affecteth so Paints her 't is true with the same hand which spreads Like glorious colours through the flowry mâ—ads When lavish nature with her best attire Clothes the gay spring the sâ—ason of desire Paints her 't is true does her cheek adorne With the same art wherewith she paints the morne With the same art wherewith she gildeth so Those painted clouds which forme Thaumantiasâ—ow Of her passing through a crowd of people AS in old Chaos Heaven with earth confus'd And stars with rocks together crush'd and bruis'â— The Sun his light no further could extend Then the next hill which on his shoulders lean'd So in this throng bright Sacharissa far'd Oppress'd by those who strove to be her guard As ships though never so obsequious fall Foule in a tempest on their Admirall A greater â—avour this disorder brought Unto her servants then their a wâ—â—ll thought Durst entertain when thus compell'd they prest The yeelding marble of her snowy brâ—ast While love insults disguised in a cloud And welcome force of the unruly crowd So th' amorous tree while yet the aire is calme Just distance keeps from his desired palme But when the winde her ravish't branches throws Into her armes and mingles all their bows Though loath he seems her tender leaves to presse More loath he is that friendly storme should cease From whose rude bounty he the double use At once receives of pleasure and excuse SONG SAy lovely dreame where couldst thou findâ— Shades to counterfeit that face Colours of this glorious kinde Come not from any mortâ—ll race In heaven it selfe thâ—u sure wer't dreâ—t With that Angell-like disguise Thus deluded am I blest And see my joy with closed eyes But at this Image is too kinde To be other then a dream Cruell Sacharissa's minde Never put on that sweet extream Faire dream if thou intend'st me grace Change that heavenly face of thine Paint despis'd love in thy face And make it to appear like mine Pale wan and meager let it looke With a pity moving shape Such as wander by the brook Of Lethe or from graves escape Then to that matchlesse Nymph appear In whose shape thou shinest so Softly in her sleeping ear With humble words expresse my woe Perhaps from greatnesse state
and pride Thus surprised she may â—all Sleep does disproportion hide And death resembling equalls all SONG BEhold the brand of beauty tost See how the motion does delate the flame Delighted love his spoyles does boast And triumph in this game Fire to no place confin'd Is both our wonder and our fear Moving the mind Like lightning hurled through the aire High heaven the glory does encrease Of all her shining lamp this artfull way The Sun in figures such as these Joyes with the Moon to play To the sweet strains they advance Which doe result from their owne fear As the Nimphs dance Moves with the numbers which she hears To Amorett FAire that you may truly know What you unâ—o Tâ—irsis owe I will tell you how I doe Sacharissa love and you Joy salutes me when I set My bleâ—t eyes on Amorett But with wonder I am strooke When I on the other looke If sweet Amoret complaines I have sence of all her paines But for Sacharissa I Doe not only grieve but die All that of my selfe is mine Lovely Amoret is thine Sacharissa's captive faine Would untie his iron chaine And those scorching beames to 〈◊〉 To thy gentle shadow run If the soule had free election To dispose of her affection I would not thus long have borne Haughty Sacharissa's scorne But 't is some pure power above Which controuls our will in love If not love a strong desirâ— To crâ—ate and spread that fire In my brâ—asts solicites me Beautâ—ous Amâ—ret for thee T is amazement more then love Which her radiant eyes doe move If lesse splendor wait on thine Yet they so benignly shine I would turne my dazelled sight To behold their milder light But as hard t is to destroy That high flame as to enjoy Which how easily I may doe Heaven as easily â—cal'd do'es know Amoret as sweet and good As the most delicious food Which but tasted doth impart Life and goodnesse to the heart Sacharissa's beauty wine Which to madnes doth incline Such a liquor as no braine That is mortall can sustaine Scarce can I to Heaven excuse That Devotion which I use Unto that adored Dame For t is not unlike the same Which I thither ought to send So that if it could take end T' would to Heaven it selfe be due To succeed her and not you Who already have of me All that 's not Idolatry Which though not so fierce a flame Is longer like to be the same Then smilâ— on me and I will prove Wonder is shoâ—ter liv'd then Love The story of Phoebus and Daphne appli'd THirsis a youth of the inspired traine Fair Sacharissa lov'd but lov'd in vaine Like Phâ—bus sâ—ng the no lâ—sse amorous boy Like Daphne she as lovely and as coy With numbers he the flying Nimph pursues With numbers such as Phoebus selfe might use Such is the chase when love and fancie leads Ore craggy mountaines and through slowry meads Invoke to testifie the lovers care Or forme some image of his cruell fair Urg'd with his fury like a wounded Deere Ore these he fled and none approaching near Had reacht the nimph with his harmonious lay Whom all his charmes could not incline to stay Yet what he sung in his immortall straine Though unsuccessefull was not sung in vaine All but the Nymph that should redresse his wrong Attend his passion and approve his song Like Phoebus thus acquiring unsought praise He catcht at love and fill'd his arme with bayes Of Mrs. Ardea BEhold and listen while the faire Breaks in sweet sounds and wilâ—ing airâ— And with her owne breath fanns the fire Which her bright eyes doe sust inspire What reason can that love controule Which more then one way courts the soule So when a slash of lightning falls On our abodes the danger calls For humane aid which hopes the flame To conquer though from heaven it came But if the winde with that conspire Men strive not but deplore the fire On the discovery of a Ladies painting PIgmaleons fate reverst is mine His marble love tooke flesh and bloud All that I worship is divine That beauty now 't is understood Appears to have no more of life Then that whereof he fram'd his wife As women yet who apprehend Some sudden cause of 〈◊〉 fear Although that seeming cause take end And they behold no danger near A shaking through their limbs they finde Like leaves saluted by the winde So though the beauty doe appeare No beauty which amaz'd me so Yet from my breaâ—t I cannot tear The passion which from theâ—ce did grow Nor yet out of my fancy rase The print of that supposed face A reall beauty though too neer The fond Narcissus did admire I doâ—â— on that which is no where The signe of 〈◊〉 â—teeds my fire No mortall flâ—me was â—â—e so cruell As this which thus survivâ—s the fewell To a Lady from whom he received a Silver Pen Madam INtending to have tride The silver favour which you gave In ink the shining point I dide And drencht it in the sable wave When griev'd to be so fowly stain'd On you it thus to me complaâ—â—'d Suppose you had deserv'd to take From her faire hand so faire a boone Yet how deserved I to make So ill a change who ever woon Immortall praiâ—e for what I wrought Instructed by her noble thought I that eâ—prâ—ssâ—d her commands To mighâ—y Lords and Princely Dames Alwayâ—s most welcome to their hands Proud that I would record their names Must now be taught an humble stile Some meaner bâ—â—uty to beguile So I the wronged pen to please Make it my humble thanks expresse Unto your Ladiship in these And now t is forced to confesse That your great self did nere indite Nor that to one more noble write On a brede of divers colours woven by foure Ladyes TWice twenty slender virgin finger twine This curious web where all their fancies shine As Nature them so they this shade have wrought Soft as their hands and various as their thought Not Iuno's bird when his faire traine dispread He woes the female to his painted bed No not the bow which so adorns the skies So glorious is or boasts so many dies On the head of a Stag SO we some antique Hero's strength Learn by his launces weight and length As these vast beams expresse the beast Whose shadie browes alive they drest Such game while yet the world was new The mighâ—y Nimrod did pursue What 〈◊〉 of our feeble race Or dogs dare such a 〈◊〉 chase Resembling with each blow he strikes The change of a whole troop of Pikes O ferâ—ile head which every yeare Could such a crop of wonder bear I The teeming eaâ—â—h did never bring So soon so hard so huge a thing Which might it never have been cast Each years growth added to the last These lofty branches had supply'd The earths bold sons prodigious pride Heaven with these engines had bin seal'd When mountains heap'd on mountains fail'd To a Lady in retirement SEes not my