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A39713 Euterpe revived, or, Epigrams made at several times in the years 1672, 1673, & 1674 on persons of the greatest honour and quality most of them now living : in III books. Flecknoe, Richard, d. 1678? 1675 (1675) Wing F1222; ESTC R27364 29,820 106

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Sandwich has out-done them all To the Earl of Ossory On his going to SEA MOst Noble Ossory who dost possess So much of Honour and of Nobleness As were all Honour all Nobility In others lost they might be found in thee In these our Wars at Sea where Death does stand With twice more force and terrour than at Land Into what danger thou thy life dost bear The less Thou fear'st the more thy friends do fear But when we talk of danger unto him Who Life than Honour does far less esteem This onely's all the answer he does give There 's need to go but there 's no need to live Go then since nothing can be throughly done But where the Noble Ossory is one There 's nothing now that England needs to fear When YORK is Leader and He Follower Who 's both in Peace and War by Land and Sea so fit to serve his Country every way As for true Honour true Nobility England had ne'r a braver man than He. To the Lord HENRY HOWARD of Norfolk now Earl of Norwich And Lord High Marshal of England On his African Voyage COmmanded by your Prince you did not say For your Excuse A Lion's in the way But by Obedience and by Honour led Even into Africh went where they are bred Teaching of Subjects by the haste you made How Kings and Princes are to be obey'd And how they obey but slowly and too late When they demur or else capitulate By your Example then whoere are sent By Kings abroad may learn this Document How they but serve themselves and not their Kings Who onely obey in fafe and easie things And how there 's little Honour to obey When difficulty and danger is away Let then your talking Croud say what they will The greater Danger greater Honour still And that my Lord you went to Africk for Let who 's lift go to fetch the Golden Oar. To the Same On his Voyage to CONSTANTINOPLE WHilst Merchants Traffick for their lucre You Traffick for Honour wheresoere you go Of which brave Merchandize you always make A noble and rich Return at coming back Witness that Voyage which you lately made To the Levant where is the richest Trade Besides now into Italy again Now into France and unto farthest Spain How Rich the while must th' Howards be of 't who Have such brave Factors for 't abroad as You And are so honour'd for 't at home as they Without offence and vanity may say As God first made the Light then made the Sun A bright and great Reserve for 't when h 'had done So Kings make Honour's and the Howards are The great Reserves of 't still you finde it there On WELBECK the Duke of Newcastle's House Where he so Royally Entertain'd the last KING WElbeck's a Royal place where every thing Seems made for Entertainment of a King And all the World confesses that he ne'r Was entertain'd more Royally than there Whose Cellar and whose Larder seem t' have bin Of ev'ry forraign Land the Magazin Whilst every where their Rarities were sought By Land and Sea and unto Welbeck brought Let others wonder at thy Lords expence And at the vastness of 's magnificence Whose feast was but Preludium to the cost With which soon after he maintain'd an Host. He who would venture's Fortunes Life and all To serve his Master when his General For me I ne'r shall wonder that he wou'd Not spare his Purse that wou'd not spare his Bloud TO FRANCES Dutchess of Albemarle Madame THe chiefest Office that the Poet has Is to give others their deserved praise And when they finde a true and real worth T' adorn it handsomely and set it forth So there are some they praise for nothing else But Beauty or the outside of themselves Others and more deservedly agen They praise for Vertue or th' inside of them And sometimes for Nobility of Bloud When 't is ennobled by some greater good All which of noble fair and vertuous too Being to perfection Madam found in You Whoever does not praise you for 't must be No Poet or else blinde and cannot see And as for me Madam though I were none The seeing You were enough to make me one IN MEMORY OF The Lady IANE CHEYNEE THe gentlest temper and the mildest brest Most apt to pardon needing pardon least Whose Blush was all her Reprehension And none ere heard her chide or saw her frown Who was so liberal to the Poor she scant Thought any thing her own whilst they did want And scarce had any Passion of her own But was for others All compassion So Innocent she was in guiltiest time Omission of doing good was all her Crime And those omissions chiefly did proceed From the abundance too o' th' good she did In fine a Saint she liv'd and so she di'd And now is gone where onely they abide Make much of her ye Saints for Heav'n knows when Your Quires will ever have her like agen On MARY Dutchess of Richmond WHether a chearful air does rise And elevate her fairer Eyes Or a pensive heaviness Her lovely Eye-lids does depress Still the same becoming Grace Accompanies her Eyes and Face Still you 'd think that habit best In which her Count'nance last was drest Poor Beauties whom a look or glance Can sometimes make looks fair by chance Or curious dress or artful care Can make seem fairer than they are Give me the Eyes give me the Face To which no Art can adde a Grace Give me the Looks no garb nor dress Can ever make more fair or less On GEORGE Duke of Buckingham her Father To the Lord Duke her Brother THe Gallantst Person and the Noblest Minde In all the World his Prince could ever finde Or to participate his private cares Or bear the publick weight of his affairs All which he bore as steady and as even As ever Atlas did the Globe of Heaven Like well-built Arches stronger with their weight And well-built Mindes the steadier with their height Such was the Composition and Frame O' th' Noble and the Gallant Buckingham These whilst he liv'd your Fathers praises were And now he 's dead are Yours my Lord his Heir The winning Carriage and the smiling Grace Of his exterior Person and his Face The noble Vertues of 's interiour Brest And in 's Example you have all the rest To LILLY DRAWING The Dutchess of Cleveland's Picture STay daring man and ne'r presume to draw Her Picture till thou mayst such Colours get As Zeuxis or Apelles never saw Nor ere were known by any Painter yet Till from all Beauties thou extracts the grace And from the Sun the Beams that gild the Skies Never presume to draw her Beauteous face Nor paint the radiant brightness of her Eyes In vain the while thou dost the labour take Since none can set her forth to her desert She who 's above all Nature ere did make Much more 's above all can be made by Art Yet be n't discourag'd for whoere does see 't