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fire_n body_n earth_n element_n 4,634 5 9.8975 5 true
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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A01776 Poƫms, by Henry Glapthorn Glapthorne, Henry. 1639 (1639) STC 11911; ESTC S103221 24,348 72

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But oh how I undoe my selfe I now Must pull my Lawrell from my wrinkled Brow And wreath'd in deathfull Cypresse sadly call My Muse to wait upon her Funerall Light thy sick Tapers pensive Muse and come To wait her Death and thine owne Martyrdome For neverbe invok'd to write by mee When hers is writ another Elegie Now in that silent Tenement of Death The Church go sing in a soft Swan-like breath A Requiem to thy memory and there Drowne ev'ry word thou utter'st with a Teare But let them be such Tears as may expresse Not Sorrow but a joyfull Extasis And You dear Sir in whom there doth survive So much of her shee needs must rest alive In your yet bleeding memory You that know How much each tributarie-Grace did owe To her unmatch'd Perfections how that shee Was Vertues Beauties just Epitome How that her Eyes were Sphears in which did move The equall Orbs of Chastitie and Love Her Cheeks two fields of purity where grew The Rose and Lilie mixt i' th' mutuall hue Of Smiles and Blushes how each outward part Did speak the richer lustre of her Heart Her Minds intensive glory When you think Justly on this her Grave no more shall drink Your frequent Tears but fraught with noble Mirth You 'll soon devest your Soul of all that 's Earth About it say 't was justice to transferre From this dull Region such a matchlesse Starre And fix't i' th' Christall Heav'n you 'll then confesse Your constant Love to her appear'd far lesse In Griefe than Joy for sorrow spent for this Her happinesse is envie to her blisse Not charitie t' her memory yet my Verse Shall hang a lasting Hatchment on her Herse My Lawrell deck her Urne in which does lie As much as of Mortalitie could die You Sir who then best knew her perfect Life Ought to rejoyce not grieve for your dead Wife SYLVIA A FRAGMENT AS DAMON thus did ' plaine Behold a Cloud out of the foamie Maine 'Gan to arise and over-looke the Earth Scorning the Sea from whence it took its birth As dull and pond'rous still it mounts up higher With azure Wings as if it meant t' aspire Spight of commanding Natures free Consent To place 'bove Ayr the watry Element Whose vain ambition from his calid Sphear When nimble Fire the chief and supreme Peere Of Elements beheld his servent Ire Increas'd his furie adding Fire to Fire Making him hotter than the eighth degree Which is prescrib'd him by Philosophie And calling to his accident the Heat That by him sate upon a brazen Seat Which 〈◊〉 like Aetna when Typ●●us breath Threatens to blow up the Sicilian earth He bad him quell that over-daring Foe Who still made hast to his own overthrow Heat strait obayd and wrapping up in Smoke His horrid Flames a speedy passage took Into the fierie Regions and with force Of rayes more ardent than the Suns bright Horse When they ore-turn'd their Masters purple Carr And drownd in Po the ventrous Waggoner Drew up the willing Cloud that striv'd to flie With Icarus to its owne Tragedie Just as a Load-starre whose attracting force Does cause the Iron leave its native Course And mount to it so did Heats pow'rful might Inforce the following Cloud till it had quite Pass'd the first Kingdome and was upward gone Into the pure Ayrs middle Region Then back with speed the Heat gan homeward fare And left the Cloud to th' mercy of the Ayre Whose subtle bodie being light and drie Could not indure the Clouds moist qualitie Clouds and all heavie Meteors Rain and Snow Haile and the like are Bodies mixt that grow Out of the Earth and watry Element Which by their nature pond'rous still are bent Down to the Center but the Ayre and Fire Of more pure substance seek to force them higher Towards the Sphear that in their downfall thence They may triumph and shew their Eminence Over those dullerbodies but the natures Of these two grosse yet fully simple Creatures Will not permit ascension they attract Therefore these Meteors upwards which compact Of humid Vapours needs must seek to bow Downwards again Our Cloud then which was now Left by its hot Conductor straight was cast By the inraged Ayr with greater hast To kisse the Center than a Parthian Bow Can shoot an Arrow or a Morter throw Deathfull Granado's in its way it strook Upon the Firmament and there b'ing broke Its wat'ry substance did obscure the Plaine And gawdie Heaven with Clouds which sought again To joyn in one and fill the buxome Ayre Just as you 've seen a Painter on a faire White Table drop some little spots of Black Which running here and there at length does make One Colour in the Grownd-work or as when Two num'rous Hosts of wel-resolved men Meet in the Field and with the murd'rous Smoak Of their Death-sending Muskets strive to choak Their bloody facts from view of lightsome day The Sulphure flying many a sev'rall way At last does meer and dim the Christall Sky So did this Cloud now many by and by One Cloud agen which when the Rose-cheek'd Sun Who had but halfe his daily labour run Saw from his shining Chariot on hee speeds Driving amain his Nectar-glutted Steeds Through the dark Welkin now he 'gins to call On Pirois now on Aethon then le ts fall His angry Whip upon their sweaty backs Now pulls the Raines hard which again he slacks That they might have more free and open Course T' expell the Cloud which scorning the Suns force With pitchie mists did so obscure his light That day seem'd turn'd into Cimmerian Night Then straight the Cloud out of its watrie Store Showr'd as if godly Pyrrhus age once more Had been approaching when blew Proteus drave His flocks to see the Mountains Fishes clave Unto the Elmes before a noted seat For harmlesse Turtles All the Winds did meet In hostile opposition Auster fought With Lybs and he with Boreas who from out His rapid throat cast gusts and did display His wings as wide as when Orythia Was by him ravisht Thunder from the Skie Like to lovd musick made a Harmonie With the Winds whistling shrilnesse Seas did roare Rising in frothie Mountains that the Shore Trembled for feare lest the impetuous Waves Should passe their Limits and become the Graves To the adjoyning Meadowes And our Swaine Damon who erst in Tears began to plaine His Kala's losse now let that salt dew fall To solemnize his poor Flocks Funerall For loe big-swelling with the late-falne Raine Tyber broke ore his Banks and ran amaine Into the Meadowes where our Shepheards kept Their Woolly Charge which presently was swept Down by the greedy River as wee see A Towne beleagur'd by its Enemie When by an on-slaught 't is surpriz'd and tane Both old and young are by the Martiall Traine Of the Victorious Souldiers murdred so Dealt the inraged River to and fro It ran and bore down all the tender Lambs That then were sucking of their milkie Dams