commenc't beyond their Crisscross-rowe Then hope poor heart and strongly that shee will At last imbrace thee for she hath the skill To school thee first with frowns that so her favor May when she smiles last with the greater savour Another Epigram To his Superlative Mistris COmpare the Bramble to the stately Pine The fruitles Thistle to the vertuous Vine Compare the Charcole to the snow-white Down The wreath of Rushes to th' Imperial crown Compare the Raven to the turtle Dove The Moors of India to the queen of Love Compare the Candle to the splendent Mooâ— The fogs of night to Phoebus eye at noon Compare the Kite to sweet-breath'd Philomel The Lerman Lake to th' Helliconian Well If these admit comparison then she That can admit of no equalitie May find a parallel but let some men Rack their dul brains to praise their Mistris when The utmost of their language they have spenâ— Let them sit down and sigh and be content Their Idols eyes to Sunbeams to compare Or by the rose her blased lips declare My Mistris must beyond their Saints survive In that unequald height Superlative Of one Mary Frail who lay with Mr. Reason MAry was long desirous for to marry And vow'd that past fifteen she would not tarry I am sure this vow of modesty did saile To quaver on her lips even in her song Or if one touch the Lute with art cunning Who would not love those hands for their swift running And her I like that with a majesty Folds up her arms and makes low courtesie To leave my self that am in love with all Som one of these might make the chasest fall If she be tall she 's like an Amazon And therefore fills the bed she lies upon If short she lies the rounder to say troth Both short long please me for I love both I think what one undeckt would be being drest Is she attired then shew her graces best A white wench thralls me so doth golden yellow And nut-brown girls in doing have no fellow If her white neck be shadowed with black hair Why so was Leda's yet was Leda fair Amber trest is she then on the morn think I My Love alludes to every History A yong wench pleaseth an old is â—ood This for her looks that for her wonâ—â—n-hood Nay what is she that any man loves But my ambitious ranging mind approves The new Petition APollo once disdained not to keep So he might keep his love Admetâ—â— sheep The distaff Hercules did excercise T' extract a smile from his deare Ladies eyeâ— Olympick Ioan disdained not to take A bulls effigies for Eutopus sake Achilles fitter far to deale with steel Did labour for his Mistress at the reel Love spar'd â—â—ander his pledg'd faith to save Died hugging in his armes the murdring wave Whil'st a new death his Heroe doth devise And drownd her selfe i th Ocean of her eyes By Pyramus the world did understand That love and life lay linked hand in hand When one was lost in This be the other flew Through the peire't portals of his wound yet new Which when his This be saw t is hard to say VVhose spirit posted fastest on the way Thus some dejection others did invade Great oposition and have willingly laid Their lives at needless hazzard some have died â—nd so have to the utmost satisfied â—hat tyrant love could force beyond this the great and true non ultra fixed is â—et happy this since whatsoe're they tried â— as on their Mistress part regratified â—â—h who would when he saw an equal flame â—f love in her he lov'd owe so much shame â—s to esteem his life if her least grief â—id but invite his blood for her reliefe â—ut this forenamed courteous Ghost can bear â—â—e witness I have shed full many a teare â—poke the best language Rhetorick affords â—â—mb'd out my heart even to the life in words Would what they did did like occasion proffer And till that do I can no more but offer And yet for all my sufferings she that is â—f I dare reach to call her so my bliss â—â—ights all my sorrows Oh weat eye could now Forbear to yeeld a tear when seeing how â— love I am neglected weep with me All you that read my wrongs so if you be Compationate perhaps your tears may move The frozen Mercy of my ice-white love Which if they do if you at any time Shall want a drop I 'le lend you some mine Methinks I see you weep dear Mistress thâ—â— Behold a Noble sea of pittying men Doth waft me to your favour it you daigâ—â— Yes now at last to ease me of my paine This glory shall unto your mercy rise That you haue wip't all tears from lovers eyâ— The Widdow Bride To the accomplish'd Lady of his thoughts Feeding I famish fired by the eye Which makes me dying live and living die FAire shall I name thee to express thy worth Nay thou hast something else to set theâ— forth Then thy externall beautie which no time Shall ere deface and that is truly thine Though outward white graâ—'d with an inward faire Vnite in one exceedeth all compare For what may glorious Saints whose divine feature Immortalis'd above an human Creature Appropriate unto themselves save this Though they 're invested with the roabe of bliss Pure is their Store the State of innocence Full be their Lamps of divine influence Complete 's their Aâ—mour and their order too Thus they attend the Lambe where ere he go And thou terrestriall Angel who canst give Though young example to the old to live Divines what thou shalt be for I do see All sacred Craces treasured in thee As in some curious artful Cabbinet Where Patience shines as a rich â—ewellet Set in a precious 〈◊〉 which may be best Allusion have to thy unspoted brest Where vertues have their Mansion should â— speak More freely of thy Merits I wil seek No modern Model to conform the State Of my affections or will imitate Any with affectation but that grace which thou reserves in action speech paâ—e Honor of ages what a Sympathie Of soul inthroning vertues works in thee To make thee more affected Where desire Of moderation tempers the heat of ire Content all self-repining and delight To see another prosper that base spite Which worldly Moles express from day to day In seeing others flourish more then they No thou art earthly Sainted canst taste What fruit's in Mundane pleasure being past When this same Circle of our humane bless Quite ran about shal end with wretchednes And is not this above th' conceit of man That thou the weaker Sex shold seem to span This abstract of thy life with such respect Unto thy soul form'd by that Architect Whose glory is thy aim Nay that thy prime Scarcely arriv'd at the freshness of her time Should so disvalue earth as to bestow Thy heart on heaven thy frayler part below Where life like to a shade whose vading
VVIT A SPORTING In a pleasant GROVE OF NEW FANCIES By H. B. LONDON Printed for W. Burden and are to be sold at his shop in Cannons-street near London-stone and by S. L. at the sign of the Book-binders in Shoo-lane 1657. THE AUTHOR TO THE READER WHen as our English Poets those happier men That can drop wonders from their fluent pena Have with their miracles of Poetry Feasted thy eares and satisfi'd thy eye Then turn aside and 'mongst the vulger things Place what my new-born Muse abruptly sings Which though it be but meane as t is confest 'T hath ventured hard to pleas thee since t is prest If thou smile on it I shall think my braine Hath labour'd for this issue not in vain If otherwise thou do contemn my layes My pleasur 's more to me then all thy praise A Pleasant Grove of new Fancies On a Lillie in his Ladies hand BLest in thy happy bed fair Lilly lye To shade thee from the Sun of her bright eye But do not in a wanton pride prefer Thy self as adding whiteness unto her Alas what glory could in thee appear So eminent if not transplanted there But see thou fad'st already poor proud flowr Whose fate is limited to one short hour And since thou wouldst for such a beutie vie Thy conquerd envie makes thee pale die Come sit thee down with a myslin charm Ceaze my incircled arm Till lockt in fast imbraces we discover In every eye a lover Then lost in that sweet extacy of blisses Wee 'l speak our thoughts in kisses In which wee 'l melt our souls and mix them so That what is thine or mine ther 's none shall know Rare mystery of love and wondere too Which none but we can do Nor shall the leaden spirits of all those Who speak of love in tame prose Believe our joyes but duly ceâ—sure us Onely for loving thus Ah! how I smile that doubtly blest we do Injoy our selves and all their envy too His Choyce WHat care I though she be faire Hair snow-like or Sun-like eye If in that beauty I not share Were she deformed what care I. What care I though she be foule Haire swarthy hand or Sun-burnt eye So long as I enjoy her soule Let her be so why what care I. Dim sight is cozened with a glass Of gaudy govvn or humerous haire Such gold in melting leave more dross Then some unpolish't prices share Be she faire or foule or either Or made up of all together Be her heart mine haire hand or eye Be what it will why what carel To his Mistress when she was going into the Country YEs yes it must be so but must there be When you depart no memory had of me My soule being rack't as large a distance too To meet you there as I must be from you While the glad spring for joy you shall be seen Meet your approach and cloath her self in green And the fresh morning to salute your rise Bedevves the ground from it 's o're joyed eyes For joy like grief vve knovv sometimes appeares Writ on our cheeks vvith characters of tears Go and be happy go and vvhen you see The trusty Ivy clasp it 's much loved tree And vvith it's amorous intvvinings cover The vvelcome vvaste of it 's imbraced lover Think it our Embleme then and prov'd to be The happy shadow of my love and me Go and be happy and when some svveet brooks Calme as thy thoughts and smooth as are thy looks Show thee thy face then let thy thoughts supply And though I be not think that I am by For if the heart be taken for whole man I must be by thee be thou where thou can Go and when some pretty birds on some smal spray Neer to thy window welcome in the day Awake and think when their sweet notes you heare I was before-hand and had sung them there Go and whate're thou chance to heare or see Be it bird or brook or shade or tree If it delights thee may my soule in it Move thy true joyes under that counterfit So aske not how I do when you are there For at your mercy well or ill I fare For now me thinks my heart so high doth swell It must inforce a breath farewell farewell The Knell When the sad toling of my bell you heare Think t is some Anfels trump and judgments neere Then if but to repent you take the paine Your judgments past lie down and sleep againe The Perfume Not that I think thy breath less sweet than this Thy breath in which no pleasant sweets I miss Not that I think thy white than this less faire Thy white to which all whites but blackness are Not that I think thy heart then this less pure Thy heart which no dull mixture can indure Send I this to thee but as gold well try'd Admits allay when it is purifi'd So by this foile I would to thee in part What is thy breath thy whiteness and thy Thy breath all perfumes doth as far out go As doth thy whiteness the descending snow The snow descends but by the winds being blown Thy sweetest breath whiter snows â—hine owâ— Thy heart less mixt than the sole Phoenix bed Proclaimes thee mistress of a Maiden-head And so there were no ashes after fire Would that ware conquer'd in my loves desire But if â—hâ—re be why can it not suffice That one being dead another Phoenix rise Thy maiden-head being gone we still shall prove Both being one unparallell'd in love But I have riddâ—'d let me now unfold What is the perfum what the snow what gold All this and each of these thou know'st thou art And I should know more did I know thy heart To his Mistress on her scorne Resolve me dearest vvhy two hearts in one Should know the sin of separation Must the sweet custome of our oft stolne kisses Be lost and we live empty of those blisses Or do the frowns of some old over seer Nourish thy feare or make thy love less steer Why did'st thou suffer me those sweets to steale Which but thine own no tongue can e're reveale And prompt me to a daring to believe That my sad heart should finde no cause to grieve Yet now at last hast mocket my hope so far That I have not a cloud though meant a star Well take thy tryumph study but to be True to thy selfe as thou art false to me And thou shalt meet a conquest yet when I Have groan'd unto the world my Elegy And thy unjust disdaine perhaps I shall Obtaine this honour in my funeral Thy poysonous guilt mixt with thy purged breath May make thee wither with me unto death So shall I triumph in my ashes too In that my innocence hath conquer'd you And then my eye rejoyce in that I have Thy scorne to be a mourner at my grave The Question and Anwser WHen the sad reins of that face In iâ—'s own wrinkles buried lyes And the stiff pride of all it's
when Florella fround Shee like a Commet strucke mee to the ground Till shee was pleas'd to cleare her glorious eyes Which summon'd mee from death to life to rise Wherefore you speedy Merchant doe you runne Beyond the bounds of the all-bounding Sunne To seeke for Rubies Pearle and Ivory Adventuring hazard both of Land and skie When my Florella can afford all this Without your search in the tumultuous Seas Rubies and Pearle her lips and teeth her skinne Like hollow Ivory lockes those gems within For which you fondly up and downe doe rome When you may better find this wealth at home What would the Northerne Climate hold too deare To purchase my Florella to live there That where the niggard sute denies to shine They might receive more lustre from her eyne But that I know she loves Religion best She had long since seene India the West But least those Pagans who adore the rise Of the bright Sunne should doate upon her eyes She was resolv'd to stay wo had I bin Had she gone thither to encrease their sinne East India nothing holds that's worth her view There 's nothing there that shee can take for new Their aire-persuming spices pretious gum Their fragrant odors pleasants Cinamum All these and sweeter farre shee breathes whose smell Doth all things but it selfe highly excell Once to my friend I did these lines rehearse Who streightway smil'd and did applaud my verse But Ah! I feare 't was my Florella's name That brib'd his tongue so to belie my fame Once and but once I chancâ—d to have the sight Of my Florella who makes darkness light When leaden Morpheus did her sence surprize In the lock't casket of her closed eys Faine would I steale a kisse but as I strove Those scarlet Judges of my sleeping love Did swell against my pride and angry red Charg'd mee stand back from her forbidden bed While they her precious breath did seem to smother Each privately did steale a touch from the other I envious at their new begotten blisse Was bold on her soft lips to print a kisse At which she wak't And have you ever seene How faire Aurora heavens illustrious queene Shakes off her sable Robe and with a grace Smiles in the front of a faire morning face Just so my love as if night had beene noone Discards the element of the uselesse moone And from her glorious tapers sent a fire To light the darkest thoughts to quicke desire While thus from forth her rosall gate she sent Breath form'd in words the marrow of content And have you Sir at such a tempting time Bettayd my honour to this welcome crime By stealing pleasure from me 't was thy Love I know that did thee to this trespasse move For I have prov'd thy faith which since I finde The trusty Inmate of a loyall minde Of force I must except it and in part Of recompence afford thee all my heart Thus having ceaz'd my prize I told her sweet As by no fouler name we ere may greete So what is mine I tender all my selfe The poorest part of thy unvalued wealth Thou hast won much in this thy mercy showne That thus at last thou dost receive thy owne Least they who after me like fare shall prove Should say See what it is to be in Love I am iâ— pâ—rtu Loves Apostacy to his friend Mr. E. D. Tut let her goe can I indâ—re all this Yet dye to doate upon a maydens kisse Is there such Magicke in her lookes that can Into a foole transfigurate a man Didst thou not love her true and shee disdaine To meete thy vertue let her meete her shame Were she as faire as she her selfe would be Adorn'd with all the cost of bravery Could she melt hearts of flint and from her eye Give her beholders power to live or die I 'de rather begge she would pronounce my death Then be her scorne though that preserv'd my breath Rise heart and be not foold S'foot what a shame Were it for thee to re-incence one flame From the declining spark dost thou not know As shee s a woman her whole Sex doth owe To thine all honor her false heart pride Dare not oppose thy faith then turn high tide And let her since her scorn doth so disease thee By her repentance strive again to pleas thee The broken-heart-song COunt the sighs and count the tears Which have in part my budding yeers Comment on my woful look Which is now black sorrows book Read how love is overcome Weep and sigh and then be dumb Say it was your charity To help him whose eyes are dry Here paint my Cleora's name Then a hurt and then a flame Then mark how the heart doth fry When Cleora is so nigh Though the flame did do its part T was the name that broke the heart Peace no more no more you need My sad History to read Fold the Paper up agen And report to other men These complaints can justly prove Hearts may break that be in love Women are mens shadows 1. FOllow a shadow it flies you Seem to flie it it will pursue So court a Mistris she denies you Let her alone she wil court you Say are not women truly then Stil'd but the shadows of us men 2. At morn and even shades are longest At noon they are or short or none So men at weakest they are strongest But grant us perfect th' are not known Say are not women truly then Styl'd the shadows of us men Women are not mens shadows E. Contra 1. THe Sun absented shadows then Cease to put on the forms of men But wives their husbands absent may Bear best their forms they being away Say are not women falsly then Stil'd but the shadows of us men 2. Shadows at morn and even are strong At noon they are or weak or none Women at Noon are ever long At night so weak they fall along Say are not women falsly then Stil'd but the shadows of us men 3. As bodies are contracted shadows so Contract themselvs to forms as bodies do Let men be bounded nere so close I wist Women wil rove and ramble where they 〈◊〉 Say are not women falsly then Stil'd but the shadows of us men An Epigram To himself of his Mistris WHat though thou merit not why know there lies Vail'd in the courteous candor of her eyes A saving mercy that can lend a wing For dul despair to mount on t is a thing Beyond the common reach to know how sweet He lives that doth in death a pardon meet But thou art poor true but her better part Nere lookt upon the habit but the heart Shee that has vertue cannot dote on those Whose best perfection is a sute of clothes Who court th' attracting beauties of the age With some con'd stuff brought from the Cockpit stage Or gull their Mistris by some Poeme shown Which 'cause they paid for they dare call their own When if their brains were ransackt you might know They nere
glory Sun's up our discontents as in a Story Gets disesteem with thee fixing thine eye Upon a more transcendant Emperie But that which shal extend thy days more long Then time can limit is thy suffring wrong Smiling at injuries as if thy brest Were of that temper griefs could not molest Nor soil her glorious Mansion but appears More eminent by th' injuries she bears I 've heard indeed som womans nature 's such As they can hardly ever bear too much The sense whereof hows'ere our Criticks take it May be confirm'd in thee for thou dost make it The Trophy of thy triumph and the crown Of all thy conquest to be onely known Thy self in thy affliction where relief In Souls sole solace gives receit to grief For Palms prest down do ever rise the more And Spices bruis'd smel sweeter then before So as this sentence verifide may bee Thou tryes afflion nâ—t affliction thee Mirror of women what a triumphs this When there is nought how great soere it is That can depress thy mind below the Sphere Where it is fixed For t is this I swear And only this which moves me to affect Thy self far more then any light respect Drawn from the tincture of a moving faire Which to mindes Beautie 's short above compare For I have known the smoothest sleekest skin Solid with the blemish of so foul a sin As Beautie lost her lustre by that stain Which once made black could nere be white again But thou in both complete art such an one As without assentation there is none May glory more of what she doth possess Though on my Knowledg none doth glory less And happy he if he had known his hap Who might repose in such a Ladies lap Secure from cenusre but how weak is sence When Reason's darkned through concupiscence Alas of error that our humane eye Expos'd to lust and boundless libertie Should derogate from man where if we knew How woman's to expect from man her dew As man from woman we shold straight infer To think of a strange beauty is to err He who did till those flowrie fields which lay Like Adons grove neer to the milkie way If he had known what happiness it is In mutual love t`injoy a mutual bliss Where tvvo dividuate souls do selfly move By one united Sympathie in love He vvould have thus concluded sure I am Who dotes on more then`s own is less then man But novv to thee my lines their love extend Making thy self their Centre vvhere they end Thou mildest mould of matron modesty Live as thou liv'st and gain eternity Patience shall give thee convoy same renovvn Both vvhich contend to reach thee triumphs crovvn The true and happy state of Love VVHat I have that I crave Frank I lost yet Frank I have Happy am I in possessing Of her that gives love a blessing Blessed love have earthly rank Stated in my style of Frank Happy style that thinks no shame In respect of nature name Form affection and in all To be Frank as we her call Yet so Frank that though she be Free it 's in such modestie As no Creatures are have bin Can or may tax her of sin Pure in love sincere in heart Fair by Nature not by Art Crimson blushes which display Reddest even makes clearest day Clearest where like Ida's snow Lillies on her cheeks do grow Yet so mixt with true delight As the red contends with white Yet orâ—'comm'd with Modesty Red or white gets victory Thus two Franks in beauty one Yeelds enough to dâ—te upon â—qâ—al both in favou feature honour order name and natuâ—â— Both inclining â—o one stature â—quaâ— ' by no earâ—hly creature â—erâ—if I should paint thâ—m out From the head unto the 〈◊〉 I shâ—uld make you ther confess They were earthly Goddesses And that Nature made these two As those Mirrors which might show Her perfection and her store Challenging who could give morel Thu both equal in one letter One to either neither better Twin-like seem as Time had â—ixt them As two sphâ—res not one betwixt them Yet if needs one tâ— ' best do crave In my thoughts it 's she I have She whose vertues do excel As they seem imparallel Modest yet not tâ—o precise Wise yet not cnoceiued wise Still in actior yet her will Give being to my vows I will much ingage my heart if when I say she 's mine you l say Amen Such kindness to our true love showne Shall bind us doubly then your own A trick for your Learning TWo Schollars in Thames-street were drinking hard And late to whom a Constable repair'd And taxâ—t them for 't Invited yet to drink He turn'd up glasses till both nod and winâ— At greatest faults he would when sleep at last Did bridle up his bruitish senses fast Mean while the waggish Mercuries conspire T' abuse him and two water-men they hire To take him naping transport him thence Th`way of all fish who nere recover'd sense Nor from his dead sleep found himself alive Till both his Charons at Graves-end arrive To all harsh Magistrates a warning faire That they of too much wine and wit beware The Vsurer HE puts forth Money as the Hangman sowes His fatal Hemp-seed that with curses growes So growes his damn'd wealth in the Devils name That doth in hel the Harvest home proclaim For which deep reason my poor Muse preferrs This sute that Poets nere prove Vsurers To a Detractor THou still art darting like a Porcupine Thy quils against me saulting every line That my hand draws and with the frostlike power Of thy benummed verse would nip the slower A Complaint of his seperation from his Mistris caused by his friâ—nds injunction DEar heart remember that sad hour When vve vvere forc`t to part Hovv on thy cheeks I vvept a shovvr With sad and heavy heart About thy wast my arms did twist Oh! then I sight and then I kist Ten thousand fears and joys in one Did such distraction frame As if the liveless vvorld vvould run To Chaos back again Whilst my poor heart amidst these fears Lay bathed in my milk-warm tears Ah then I thought and thinking vvept Hovv friends and fate did lower On thee Leander hovv they kept Thee from thy Heroes Tower VVhile thunder groand heaven did vveep To rock thy sence in silent Sleep But Fate must unresisted stand Oh vvho can it oppose Neâ—essity`s a Tyrant and No mean in mischief knovvs Els might my fairer Love and I Unseverd live till one did dy Just so the hungry inâ—ant from His mothers dug is â—ane When his weak arms yet spread along More dulcid mulk to gain And nothing brings the babe to rest Until he sleep upon her breast Thus being banisht from my love And â—oreâ—t to leave her sight No thoughts but those of her can move In me the least delight But like true steel my heart doth pant To touch the longâ—d â—or Adamant Oh let no storm of discontent Be clouded in your brows
Dear friends that have my being lent Is so pure it ne're acts ill Virgin-modest yet delights To discourse of Hymens rights Yet she blushes when she heares Ought that 's light sound in her eares And with skarlet-die displaies What to women yeelds most praises For praise-worthy t is in women To blush at that Act is common Since in speech those actions show Ill which modest are to do For a Maid should be afraid Hearing th' loss of Maiden-head With this Poem and a Pearl Sent to Frank my faithful Girle I conclude with friendly vow To my Frank her neighbours too An Elegiack Sonnet If I onely had been he â—hat had stood so far aloofe Or had been such Armour proof Dide I had not as you see Shot by womans Iealousie Wretched Woman why should Thou Dote so much on Idol beauty Deeming only fit to suâ—e thee When it is not one nor twâ— Nor a thousand more will do Yet love loves not these exchanges Love is constant firme and pure Drawn by no eye-charming lure It is last that onely ranges Where new love old loveâ— stranges What is life then but a farm And the best a farmer is Of this life he counts a bliss Whree true love sustaines no harme Nere engag'â— to Fancies charme Of thy sweet Poësie I wish thee show More favour to thy self than thus to blow Sparks in thine eyes Art thou not slave afeard To pluck a couchant Lyon by the beard That rouzâ—d will rend thee thou but shootst in vain Thy bolts of folly that rebound again From my unpierced Muse whose lofty rim Shall Dial-like stand in the face of time And look it down when thou and thine shall lie Damn'd up with dust in blind obscuritie To the Slanderer COuld I but work a Transformation strange On thee whose malice pricks rankles so I would thy Carrion to a Thistle change Which Asses baite upon Rusticks mow That he is love sick and cannot write Verses Ettie it doth not me delight Verses as before to write Quite thorow thrust With deeply wounding lust â—ith lust the which doth me desire â—ove all men else to set on fire Or for young boyes Or for some female toyes This the third winter off â—as tore The forests dreâ—s since I forbore To pine away For my Inachia Though town O what a sport was I For I am sham'd at such foolery And I repent My feasting-merrimens In which my grief and silent tongue And sighs from my hearts botom sprung Argued me Inamorate to be And mourning to thee I did cry A poor mans canded ingenie VVas all but vain To stand against her gaiâ— VVhen as the uncivil power Of raging wine had from its bower My secret thought With stronger liquer wrought But in my breast if free rage boile That to the winds it may assoil My sighs ingrate Which my sore wound can't bâ—â— When my modestness cast by Shall give over presently To strive so long VVith rivals over strong When vext I to you had enlarg'd These things to hie me home being charg'd Along I went VVith fearfull impotent To those posts ah unkind to me And dores ah full of cruelty Where mightily My Ioyns and sides bruisd 〈◊〉 Lyciseus love me now doth press Boasting that he in tenderness Dos far surpass Any young married lass VVhence nor the free-spent consultations Nor the rigid increpations Of my friends ere Me off again shall tear But some other flame in sooth Of some fair maid or some plucy youth Knitting up fair His long grown head of haire The bag of the Bee ABout the sweet bag of a Bee Tvvo Cupids fell at odds And vvhose the pretty prize should be They vowed to ask the gods Which Venus hearing thither came And for their boldness stript them And taking from them each his flame With rods of Mirtle whipt them Which done to still their wanton cries When quiet grown she 'd seen them She kist and wipe't their dove-like eyes And gave the bag between them To his Mistris CHuse me your Valentine Next let us marry Love to the death will pine If we long tarry You have broke promise twice Dear to undo me If you prove faithless thrice None then will wooe you His Protestation to his Mistris NOon day and midnight shal at once be seen Trees at one time shall be both red and green Summer and winter shall at one time show Ripe ears of corn and up to th' ears in snow Seas shall be sandless Fields be voyd of grass Shapeless the world as when all Chaos was Before my dear sweet Love I will bee False to my Vow or fall away from thee Vpon Love LOve scorcht my finger but did spare The burning of my heart To signifie that love my share Should be a little part Little I love but if that he Would but that heat recal That joynt to ashes should be burnt Ere I would love at all To his Mistris SHew me thy feet shew me thy legs thy thighs Shew me those fleshly principalities Shew me that hil where smiling love doth siâ— Having a living fountain under it Shew me thy wast then let me therewithall By the ascension of thy Lavvn see all On himself LOve-sick I am and must indure A desperate grief that finds no cure â—h me I try and trying prove No herbs can cure the power of Love Only our soveraign salve I know And that is death the end of woe To the Virgins to make much of time GAther your Rose-buds while you may Gold time is still a flying And that same flower that smiles to day To morrow may be dying The glorious lamp of heaven tehâ—sn The higher he 's a getting The sooner will his race be run And neerer to his settinâ— That age is best which is the First When youth and old are warmer And being spent the worse and worst Times still succeed the former Then be not coy but use your time And while you may go marry For having lost but once your prime You may for ever tarry Vpon Cupid AS lately I a garland bound 'Mongst Roses I there Cupid found I took him put him in my cup And drunk with wine I drunk him up Hence then it is that my poor brest Could never since find any rest Vpon her Brests DIsplay thy brests my Dear there let me Behold that circummortal puritie Between whose glories there my lips I le lay Ravish't in that fair Via Lactica Vpon himself MOpe-cy'd I am as some have said Because I ve lived so long a maid But grant that I should wedded be Should I a jot the better see No I should think that marriage might Rather then mend put out the light Draw-Gloves AT Draw-gloves wee l play And prethee le ts lay A wager and let it be this Who first to the Sun Of twenty doth run Shall have for his winning a kiss To the Rose Go happy rose and enterwoove With other flowers bind my love Tel her too she must not be Longer
Loving long free That so oft hath fettered me Say if she 's fretfull and I have bands Of Pearl and Gold to bind her hands Tell her if she strugle still â— have myrtel Rods at will â—or to tame though not to kill Take thou my blessing thus go And tell her this but do not so â—est a handsome anger sly â—ik a lightning from her eye And burn thee up as well as I. How Violets came blew LOve on a day wise Poets tell Some time I wrangling spent Whether the Violets should excel â—or she in sweetest scent But Venus having lost the day Poor girls she fell on you And beat ye so as some do say Her blows did make ye blew Counsel not to love HE that will not love must be My Schollar and learn this of me There be in love as many fears As the Summers corn hath ears Sighs and sobs and sorrows more Then the sand that makes the shore Freezing cold and fiery heats Fainting swoons and deadly sweats Now an ague then a fever Both tormenting Lovers ever Wouldst thou know besides all these How hard a woman t is to please How cross how sullen and how soon She shifts and changes like the Moon How false how hallow shee s in heart And how she is on her left part How high shee s priz'd and worth but small Little thou 't love or not at all On the Willow-tree THou art to all lost love the best The only true plant found Wherewith young men and maids distrest And left off love are crown'd When once the Lovers rose is dead Or laid aside forlorn Then willow-garlands about the head Bedeau'd with tears are worn When with neglect the Lovers bane Poor maids rewarded be For their love lost their onely gain Is but a wreath from thee And underneath thy cooling shade When weary of the light The love-spent youth and love-sick maid Come to weep out the night To his Mistris to command him any thing BId me to live and I will live thy servant for to be Or bid me love and I will give A loving heart to thee A heart as soft a heart as kinde A heart as sound and free As in the whole world thou cast finde That heart I le give to thee Bid that heart stay and it will stay To honor thy decree Or bid it languish quite away And it shall do it for thee Bid me to weep and I will weep While I have eyes to see And having none yet I will keep A heart to weep for thee Bid me despair and I le despaire Under that Cyprus tree Or bid me die and I will dare Even death to die for thee Thou art my life my love my heart The very eyes of me And hast command of every part To live and die for thee A Hymne to Venus GOddess I do love a girl Ruby-lipt ' and tooth't like Pearl If so be I may but prove Lucky in this maid I love I will promise there shall be Myrtels offered up to thee The good night to the Bride BLessings in abundance come To the Bride and to her Groome May the Bed this short night Know the fulness of delight Pleasures may here attend you And ere long a boy Love send you Curld and comely and so trim Maids in time may ravish him Thus a dew of graces fall On you both Good-night to all The Willow-Garland A Willow-garland thou didst send Perfumed last day to me Which did but only this portend I was forsook by thee Since it is so I le tell thee what To morrow thou shalt see Me weare the Willow after that To dye upon the tree To a Teltale Thy glowing eares to hot contention bent Are not unlike red Herings broyl'd in Lent To Baull the Cryer In thy rude Parish as thou dost profess Thou 'rt like the Baptist in the wilderness Yet ere for conscience off thy head should go Tâ—ou wouldst not cry Oyes but roare out No On deaf Joan the Ale-wife the prates to others yet can nothing heare Just like a sounding jugg that wants an eare To Zounds the Swaggerer What dost thou mean to revel roare arâ— spend To drink and drabble and swear so wilâ— thou rend Thy way to Hell The Devil will spy day At a small hole and snach his Chuck away To the same What Gulf 's within thee that thou swallow'st so It is to drown all thirsts before thou go To that Infernall hat-house such a ground Of reasons deeper than I list to sound To his Mistris WHat conscience say is it in thee When I a heart had one To take away that heart from me And to retain thy ovvn For shame and pity now incline To play a loving part Either to send me kindly thine Or send me back my heart Covet not both for if thou dost Resolve to part vvith neither Why yet to shevv that thou art just Take me and mine together On Love I Held Loves head vvhile it did ake And so it chanced to be The cruel pain did him forsake And forthvvith came to me Ah me how shal my grief be still'd Or where else shal we find One like to me who must be kild For being too too kinde To his Mistris T is evening my sweet dark let us meet Long time we have been a trying And never as yet that season could get Wherein to have had an enjoying For pity or shame then let not loves flame Be ever and ever a spending Since now to the Port the path is but short And yet our way has no ending Time flies away fast our hours do waste The while we never remember How soon our life here grows old with thâ—â— yeerâ— That dies with the next December The Fairies IF ye will with Mab finde grace 〈◊〉 Set each platter in its place Rake the fire up and get Water in ere Sun be set Wash your pales and clense your Daries â—uts are loathsome to the Fairies Sweep your house who doth not so â—â—ab will pinch her by the toe Cherry-Pit IUlia and I did lately sit Playing for sport at Cherry-pit â—â—e threw I cast and having throwne â— got the pit and she the stone To Robbin Redbrest When I 'me led out for dead let thy last kindness be With leaves and moss-work for to cover me And while the wood-nimphs my cold corps inter Sing thou my Dirge sweet warbling Chorister For Epitaph in â—oliage next write this Here here the tomb of William Redley is His Vision to his Mistris I Dream'd we both were in a bed Of Roses almost smothered But then I heard thy sweet breath say Faults done by night will blush by day I kist thee panting and I call The night to record that was all But ah if empty dreams so please Love give me more such nights as these Charon and Philomel A Dialogue sung PHIL CHaron O gentle Charon let me woo thee By tears and pity now to come unto me Ch. What voice so sweet
but hollow Timbers noise This sweet warm lovely Womans voice Religion swayd else I had nigh Been guilty of Voice-Idolatry FILLIS and the Nightingale RAre charming Voice but O how rare Breath'd by that She so only fair Whose face and bodies beauties be Compos'd with so rare Symmetry Heavens choice design so sweetly accorded One Heavenly Consort all afforded And were the Harmony o' th Eye Seem'd Natures silent Melody Nere man so doubly-blest th' eye ear Record it Love t was only here Each trembling Noat those Corals wrought VVhen born seem'd swaddled wrapt methought And as soon dying Embalm'd within So sweet breath as perfum'd't had been Came flying in a precious air Of Odors 'bove Arabian far The same sweet noats you would have deemd The several souls of Musick seemd VVhilst the whole Song rare sweetst compound VVherein th' Ear's Sugar Sytrop found O could I 've caught and kept alive Those precious sounds beyond reprive Those Spirits of Sweetness as they flye So t'have had constant Melody Nay Phillis self still by me in those Her Breath preserv'd and relick'd close Had servâ—d for soveraign protection GaÃnst poysnous Plagues and all infection If that famâ—d Harp could Rivers cause To stand at wanton gaze and pause Beasts stubborn Rocks and burly Trees Made dance in Antique Revels thess Her voice must greater Magick prove And make them court her fall in Love VVhile Fillis breath'd and closâ—d her song Behold a pritty vvonder sprung Th' ambitious Nightingale replyd Through pertest emulations pride Chief Chorister I ' th feathered Court To th' Royal Eagle fam`d in sport VVould sing her part and nimbly runs Her fine-poiz'd quaint Divisions Novv Fillis then the Nightingale Novv she then she vvhich should prevail The Chirper falls to earnest novv No more must jesting strains allovv T is sober Duel no idle play Sharp brest-conâ—ention for the day Till the poor Bird presumes still higher As life vvould forfeit and expire VVhich pittying I vvas fain to intreat Her softer heart vvould make retreat And end the dangerous strife so nigh By yeelding a false Victory This quarrel must not the loss prove Of such a voice to th' Spring and Grove Her Mercy rather should reprive Double honors Trophie keep alive VVhen loth to stifle yet my blisses I silenc'd those svveet lips vvith Kisses Though but th' ears airy joyes transfer'â— To th' solid touch so sav'd the Bird His fourth Dream of Cressas Funeral the Love of Difloris IS any Pastors care so deaf to Fame That has not heard of fairest Cressas name So us'd to bleatings whom that Funeralknel Which groand this Nimph to earth did hearts congeal Hath not arriv'd to happy sure 's that He In this since knows not th' common Misery Distresâ—d Arcadias loss with whom does share Nature Grand Mourner her beloved fair Cloyster'd in dust nor without company Dy'd she alone a hundred seemd to dye In Sorrow with her The Suns self was gone Fast from her Funerals and Night came on To bring her Sables O what new-rais'd Train Of Goblâ—ns strook my sight which rov'd the plain With such dire ceremony ruful guize As each did his own Funeral solemnize Lo Deaths March t was First went young swains by pair Each crownd with mournful Cipress Usherer To th solemn Herse Those four next to ' that leâ— Bare Shieldes where pictur'd on a cole-black beâ— A pale dead Virgin lay prepar'd as t were To Bridals and which beauteous did appear Even in death by deaths black arms imbract And over in white Characters was plac't This this my Lover this my Bridal So All pass'd along But following th' Hersâ— did go A single Swain how dismal-lookt slow pac't Trust bulk of wretchedness ore whose face cast A meer Life-damp seem'd Ghost to th' Corps before Sighs storm'd about him whilst he drench'd their shore His torrent eys and thus would needs excel Surpass in grief About his Hat mix'd wel Forsaken Willow Cipress where above This written Deaths my Rival Next does move the Virgin-train in white which Censers bear â—ark-vail'd like Dooms-day Planets Torch-light there â—orc't frightful Noon And thus they softly trace â—ire measure how unwilling to th sad place â—here they must leave their slumbring Nimph behind â— ' enrich the Covetous Earth which half struck blind the Youth beheld never spake Sorrow more Then now in silence different Passions store â—ere sighs there tears pale looks there yet all one Consort in Grief This general alone All look'd their utmost til now lost the sight With whom their eyes seemâ—d as 't were bury'd quite And blind to upper things in earth beneath Are following her as if in spite of death Would stil enjoy with many a pitying muse The rude ore churlish mold should so abuse That daintiest Body which though one more nice Las now complain'd not but death-tranced lyes What Maiden adiews what tears Swain kiss'd the Place All saying Richer-gem'd Earth never was Epitaph HEre Chastity it self doth lye And Beautie's self whom never eye Nor tongue could tempt as yet love Till Death his violent dart did prove And powerful'st wou unto his Bed Though She was even then Ravished PHILLIS Complaint WHy was I born Or not born blind Though thence the scorn Of whol mankind Their Pity or Wonder That so I 'd Womans Shape nere known 〈◊〉 seâ—ing had I mist but one But Thine alone We only kept asunder â—then kinde Heavens you had blest A Soul of Anguish That 's now condemn'd to sad unrest And endlesly must languish Yet check my Heart no more These Plaints give â—re Since thou hadst rather die through her rejection Then not have seen so rare perfection On his retired Lady I. VVHen you were born sure nature meaâ— some other thing Whose 〈◊〉 by your discontent Youl 'd peevishly to ruine bring The Sun doth shine the stars hold forth And so should you expose your worth II. Why should a face whose Magick may weak seuls recruit The 〈◊〉 and the veils obey Or wherefore should that tongue be mute 〈…〉 many to mortal ears Sinâ—s â—igh and sweeter then the Sphears III. Each for her Coâ—ntreys welsare came into the earth Part of her best paâ—ts we may claim As truly forfeit at her birth Yet since forc't bâ—ons are not so kinde We 'l beg your face and vertuous minde IV. As did Medusa by her eyes to stones convert Each daring look so thine surprise But 't is not with Medusa's art As flesh to stones transformed she So stony hearts are broke by thee V. Thy sacred lips where cherries grow set round with spiâ—e Whence loves Eleâ—tars freely 〈◊〉 Why in recess constrain'd so nice Sure he shall die unblest that â—iffes The famouâ—â—ooty of your kisses VI Will thy bright beams be ere the less for lighting me 〈…〉 thy comliness 〈…〉 thy dignity 〈…〉 no longer in the Mines 〈…〉 and yet she shines VII Pray what â—vails Diana's tower Or what consent Is couched in the golden shower While she receives imprisonment The life of beauty 's by resort Not in the priâ—on but the Court VIII 〈…〉 cheeks abroad 〈…〉 no more Those Gâ—ms each 〈◊〉 would applaâ—d 〈◊〉 with a 〈◊〉 adore 〈…〉 your self and we in this 〈…〉 greateâ— share in bliss 〈…〉