which weak defect may never know So let them both like twyns be fair and kind Be rich in grace be of a loving mind So let them both continue till they kisse In love each other to eternal blisâ—e Wordly Honor. Honos mundi est onus animis CLimb up the highest hill and you shall find That place most subject to great storms and wind So wordly Honours and preferments are But steps to raise you to more grief and care To the most Courteous and fair Gentlewoman the pattern of modesty and piety Mrs. Elinor Williams of the Gare. AS you are perfect without blot or stain So may perfection in your Bridegroome raign As you are young and tender so may he In years a little your superiour be For every marriage then is best in tune When that the wife is May the husband June Let not your heart to beggar's Hall incline A shrubble should not embrace so tall a pine A Buzzard must not couâ—t the gentle Dove For such a marriage will prodigious prove No foolish Wood-cock must expect to wedde Or take the rarer Phenix to his bed Before your Roses fade joyn hand in hand Old age will come and plough your finest land Remember Lots Wife Exempla plus valent quam praecepta A Woman turn'd to salt most true it is Ovid nere knew that Metamorphosis The woman chang'd not man Gods prime creature For women are most apt to change by nature She looked back with a most strong desire To see old Sodom which was then on fire The act of looking back had bin no crime Had she lookt back but at another time It was Gods precept made this act a sin She had been free had God not injur'd bin Salt seasoneth flesh she 's turn'd to salt that we By her example might well season'd be Go on my soul to God with all thy might Renounce thy former Sodom of delight Upon the death of the Right Worshipful Sir Anthony Mansel who was shot and kild at the battel of Newbery Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus Tam chari capitis Hora. DEath like a coward at a distance stood When she struck him his valour was so good She durst not venter neere Death to her shame His body kill'd but could not kill his name In this sad battel if same truth doth say We got the field and yet we lost the day His death eclipst the day and made it night And clouds of sorrow did obscure the light It were injustice to neglect his dust Whose death was noble as his life was just Now heaven crownes him where all labors cease Although he dy'd in war he dy'd in peace Charity Quid charitas sine fide Quid fides sine charitate THe glorious Sun bestows his light and heat To cherish us and make all things compleat The swelling clouds with water do abound To succour and refresh the thirsty ground The earth yields her increase the fruitful vine Out of her treasure yields the pleasant wine All creatures in their kind by nature give And with their precious store our wants releive These creatures by example us should move To help each other with a mutual love To feed the poor who sells his own estate Doth purchase heaven at an easie rate God loves a broken heart an humble knee An open hand from all vain glory free The Holy Sacrament or Supper of the Lord Vbi ratio deficit fides proficit UNder the forms of sacred bread and wine I do receive thee Lord and grace divine Thou art the door the vine the corner stone Thou art the way the truth the life alone Thy mercy to inlarge thou art our bread Wherewith we are to life eternal fed Thy blood is wine which sweetly doth refresh Our weary souls and cheere our weaker flesh Who eats this bread and drinks this cup shall be From fainting thirst and pining hunger free In this sweet bread doth no sour leaven lye Of fraud of malice or hypocrisie The bread's thy body and the wine thy blood This I beleeve this faith is safe and good Thou art in thy great Sacrament but how I simply do confesse I do not know It is enough for me that thou art there I will receive thee Lord with joy and fear Upon the Right Worshipful Sir Richard Floyd one of his Majesties Honourable Judges in South-Wales BLush all you scarlet gowns that heretofore Did wink at rich men and condemn the poor Great flyes break through when the lesser fly In slender cobwebs doth intangled ly But here is one of Jetbro's Judges he Fears God and is from base corruption free The person he respects not but the cause He fancies not opinion but the laws The scales of Justice no fine gold can turn He righteth those which laugh and those that mourn He 's careful of the poor for he doth know That men will soon tread down a hedge that 's low His language is attractive sweet and full And falls like rain into a fleece of wooll In faith he is a rock in loyal love For his good King he'did a Martyr prove He is a honest Jude my active will Would guild his name had I but perfect skill Conscience Conscientia millâ— Testes COnsider all thy actions and take heed On stollen bread though it is sweet to feed Sinne like a Bee unto thy hive may bring A little honey but expâ—ct the sting Thou maist conceal thy sinne by cunning Art But conscience sits a witnesse in thy heart Which will disturb thy peace thy rest undo For that is witnesse Judge and prison too The pleasant streame doth fair and smoothly glide When in the bottom no great rubbes abide No swelling grief no boystrous cares appear Where honest ways preserve the conscience clear Our cloths being new and fair we hold it fit To care what thing we touch and where we fit When they are foul or torne we leave that care And cast them up and down like broken ware T is so with conscience while 't is fair within We fear to stain it with some heynous sin If once the Virgin-Conscience plays the quean We seldom after care to keep it clean Then keep thy conscience like thy paper white And do not blot when thou maist fairly write The Shrew Ventus ab Aquilone BEhold her lip how thin it is her nose How sharp her voice how shrill which doth disclose A â—roward shrew who hath her by mishap Shall surely hear a constant thunder-clap Silence is her disease for like a mill Her clapper goes and never standeth still By night Hobgoblins houses haunt this sprite Doth vex and haunt the house both day and night The Rack the wheele the Spanish Inquisition Torments not like her rongue A sad condition Her husband lives in like a coward he Must leave the field and always vanquisht be He must commend what she doth well approve And disallow of what she doth not love We tame wild fouls bears lions but no Art To tame
And by kind nature intermixed be Love doth fulfil the law love conquers sin And makes a man an earthly Cherubin Faith patience hope all vertues rightly â—kand Without pure love like barren fig trees stand With perfect love are sweetest graces seen Like maids of honor waiting on the Queen Love is the wedding-garment and no guest Without this robe shall tast the royal feast Invest me Lord with love make thou me able And fit to feast with â—ngels at thy Table Upon the Right Worshipful Sir Henry Lingen Knight of Stoke in Herefordshire Nulli pietate secundus MY trumpet is too dul and weak to sound His meritorious praise as in rich ground Most pleasant springs sweet flowers and herbs we find So vertues are consistent in his mind He 's constant in the faith and he doth hate Old truth with errors to sophisticate Such valour he exprest that men should raise A stately Pyramidet ' advance his praise His hands were active and his heart was free In loyal actions from Apostasy He strives not to climb high a gentle tyde Thus have I seen within his channel slâ—de His actions are so cleer to each mans sight As the pure Topaz or the Chrysolite All hearts to him as to their Loadstone move For he 's the Center of his Countrey 's love By all his vertuous ways it doth appear His soul in heaven is his body here The Sluggard Otia corrumpunt animum WHen God did Adam with all pleasures blesse He was to labour and the garden dresse God made man active those fair orbs above Do wheele about and without ceasing move The running stream is sweet and can impart A wholsome draught unto a thirsty heart But standâ—ng pools more dark and foul appear Nor can they be from bad infections cleer So labour whetâ— the soul and cleers the mind By active fire our mettal is refin'd An idle life a sad condition breeds Who sits when he should travel never speeds Look how the painful Bee unto her hive Brings the pure hony and doth daily thrive And the laborious Ant with careful pain Doth treasure up in summer time her grain So she prevents the famine and doth live All winter in delight and never grieve The Sluggard foulds his armes and then doth say I fear there is a Lion in the way Thus in the end both poverty and shame Consumes his body and obscures his name God is a husbandman he doth require All men to work no peny else no hire To his much Honoured friend Mr. John Williams the most pious and learned Minister and Vicar of Devynnock and Luel IN printed leaves for you I need not look I have learnt you by heart without the book Had I forgotten you I had bin rude And guilty of most base ingratitude If I had power equal to my mind You should an honest friend and servant find But envious fortuné hath so clipt my wing That I can nothing but affection bring I may more large in lands by fortune prove But no condiiton can enlarge my love The heavens blest you with a plenteous hand That you your friends can help your foes command The Blackamores WE many men from Mauritania see To England come as black as Ravens be Into your selves look with a curious eye And you shall find you are more black then they Then wonder not at them so black in skin But at your selves so foul so black by sin Peace and Warre PEace is like salt which seasons all our meat Till envious warâ—e doth poison all we eat War like the horsleech calls for humane blood And ruines all thâ—ngs like the unruly flood Or raging fire I do prefer by far An unjust peace before the justest war Welcome sweet peace which makes all things compleat And gives us grapes from our own vines to eat That land is blest and hath a golden day Where Drums and trumpets cease and Organs play Peace breedeth plenty warre consumes a nation Peace bringeth joy warre causeth Lamentation Pray to the God of peace that we may have The love and peace of God unto the grave HOPE Qui nihil sperat desperet nihil I 'm black t is true but yet no sad despair Shall me perswade that I shall nere be fair Transform hard stones the God of power can And make them children unto Abraham To turn my heart of stone God knows the way Into a heart of flesh without delay My sore disease is not so great or foul That there 's no balsome which can heal my soul Come true Samaritan come sacred Dove And in my soul as in thy Temple move To the most incomparable wise and vertuous Lady the Lady Goditha Prise Lady to the Honourable Colonel Sir Herbert Prise Knight AS I do live I wonder how you can Forget your sex and be so much a man In wit and judgment nay you are divine Transcending far our nature masculine As you are fair so you disdain the rude And sluttish nature of the multitude They say Promitheus stole from heaven fire And brought it down weak mortals to inspire If it be now on earth I do protest That heavenly fire lies in your sacred breast Who writes of you or gives you greatest praise To your high worth shall but a molehill raise Vpon the same most excellent Lady the Lady Goditha Prise HAve you observ'd a garden fair and sweet Where whelsome herbs and pleasant flowers do meet So doth her mind no imperfection know Where graces do like grapes in clusters grow If you with serious eyes desire to see The model of most perfect charity Or if in earnest you desire to find Religion seated in a humble mind Or would you know where holy patience dwells When grace and truth all discontent expels Then her behold who lives as if with John She had Christ's sacred bosome lean'd upon In tears and prayers she doth sin bemone And each day neerer steps to heavens throne The mortified Christian I From the worlds deceitful snares am free They were but cobwebs which entangled me All worldly mirth is madnesse get away You bad companions which mispend the day Leave me alone I ne're am lesse alone Than when in private by my self I mone I love no dainties which procure delight Nor curious sauce to whet the appetite Nature is spon contented give me meat That I may live let me not live to eat I wear no silk fine linnen rich attire To make me proud or burn with wanton fire Rough sackcloth or some homely weed I love Which my poor heart to humble thoughts may move I pray in Temples meadows woods each place Invites my soul to call for saving grace All sins by constant prayer conquer'd be So conquer them else they will conquer thee The new illiterate Lay-Teachers 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 WHy trouble you religions sacred stream And tear Christs coat which had no rent or seam And you do patch it too with ragged clouts Of false opinions and phantastick doubts The skilful
husbandman must till and sow That grounds ill drest where blind men hold the plough Now in the Temple every saucy Jack Opens his shop and shews his pedlars pack Instead of candles we enjoy the snuff For precious balme we have but kitchin stuffe The ruder sort are by these teachers led Who acrons eat and might have better bread If this a propagation shall be found These build the house which pull it to the grâ—unâ— This is meere Hocus-Pocus a sttange slight By putting candles out to gain more light Mad men by vertue of this propagation Have Bedlum left and preach't for Reformation And they might well turn preachers for we had Many that were more foolish and more mad The Tinkar being one of excellent mettle Begins to sound his doctrine with his Kettle And the laborious ploughman I bewail Who now doth thresh the Pulpit with his flail The louzy Taylor with his holy thimble Doth patch a sermon up most quick and nimble He doth his skill and wisdom much expresse When with his goose he doth the Scripture presse The Chandler now a man of light we find His candle leaves a stinking snuffe behind The Apothecary who can give a glister Unto a holy brother or a sister Hath one dram of the spirit and can pray Or preach and make no scruple of his way Thus false coyn doth for currant money passe And precious stones are valued lesse than glasse Not disputation but a rigid law Must keep these frantick sectarists in aw The itch of disputation will break out Into a scab of errour which without Some speedy help will soon infect and run Through all the flock where it hath once begun I will take heed in these bad times and care To shut my shop but keep my constant ware Lord let thy tender vine no longer bleed Call hâ—me thy shepheards which thy lambs may feed A Prayer to the Holy Ghost O Holy Spirit O most sacred Dove Which didst descend upon the Son of Love Descend upon my soul that I may be Simple as Doves without malignity O holy Fire inflame my lukewarm heart And better heat of love divine impart O holy Fire O thou Eternal Light Expel the clouds of everlasting night O holy Fire let my soul purged be From all her dross as purest gold is free O holy Fire dissolve my heart like wax Which nothing but thy fair impression lacks O holy Fire vouchsafe in me to dwell And keep my soul from the strange fire of hell Antipathy I Love him not but shew no reason can Wherefore but this I do not love the man Astrology To the profound and learned Gentleman Mr. Vincent Wing Qui Naturae Aruspex intimus Atlas physicus nec non sensus rationis stupendus Arbiter WIse men believe inferior bodies move By dispensation from those Orbs above Stars do not force or by compulsion cause Our Natures to obey their constant laws Who seâ—â—â—s the God of pow'â— that made the spheres No sad 〈…〉 pse or constellation fears Where vâ—â—tuous Reason guides not but the Sense There 〈◊〉 have their greatest influence God did the 〈◊〉 the Moon and Stars bestow Which do the course 〈◊〉 and seasons shew ' Gaâ—nst Sisera in theâ—â— orders sought the stars And helpt Gods people in their prosperous wars When Christ himself was born a star did bring And guide the wise men to find out their King And wise men still in stars a vertue find Which is kept secret from the duller mind Into brave spirits a pure light descends Which heavy darkness never comprehends I cannot call the stars by name nor track The Sun through twelve signs of the Zodiack Arcturus with his sons outgo my sense So do the Pleyades with their influence From the Pole-Artick what degrees there be Unto th' Antartique is unknown to me Our Zâ—nyth is too high for me to know What things are there our Nadyr is too low I do not understand how Planets move And differ in their several Orbs above The Circle from the Stars reflexion may Escape my knowledge call'd the milky way Such knowledge is too deep but yet I will A 〈◊〉 the path of that mysterious skill Solomon's Memento Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth Eccles 12. 1. DO not mispend thy golden youth and bring The dross of thy old age of serve thy King Do not neglect the morning of thy days And think the evening fit thy God to praise God early must be sought the longer we Persist in sin the stronger sin will be From vice to vertue turn from bad to good The deeper still he sinks who stands in mud A nail the further it is driven in The harder is drawn out and so is sin None can foretell how long the fatal glass Shall run or else how soon the sand will pass Delay no time that man will shrink and sear Who lays the burden on old age to bear Because the foolish Virgins came too late They heaven lost for Christ had shut the gate Should we be old are we then sure to store Our sould with grace which we refus'd before Through mire and dirt who travels all the day Will hardly go by night a cleaner way The Tenant which neglects th' appointed day Forfeit his lease and fret his Landlord may Vpon the Right Worshipful Sir Francis Floyd Knight Sou to the most eloquent pious learned and honorable Judge Sir Marmaduke Floyd Knight VErtue can never be conceal'd her flame Shines bright and will disclose a vertuous name A brave report of his great worth we hear As loud as thunder in our Hemisphere Contagious times could never make a spot On his fair clothes or his white paper blot He could not flatter or affect the crime To temporize or smooth the ruder time Fixt in his station like a losty hill He simply stood and scorn'd to change his will I wish he may enjoy fair Halcion days And Heaven bless his meritorious ways Even so come Lord Jesus Rev. 22. 20. THe pretty Bird imprison'd in his cage Would fain go free and spend his merry age In spacious woods So is my better mind As to a prison to my flesh confin'd Make haste sweet Jesus to strike off my shackle And to dissolve this earthly tabernacle Thou art on earth the earth's most perfect pleasure Thou art in heaven heavens richest treasure Let others dote on beauty honour wealth Thou art my great reward my joy my health My soul is ravisht with thy love and sickly Then come my sweetest Jesus oh come quickly Vpon Natures Darling the young ingenuous Gentleman Mr. James Jones Sâ—n to Edmund Jones Esq HE is in years a child but if you scan The ripeness of his wit he is a man This graff from such a gallant stock will be In time succeeding a most fruitful treâ— This Plant will prove a goodly Oak and give A pleasant shade the weary to relieve His Spring foretels the Autumn and such rayes Dart from the morning of
his youthful days As do foreshew this Morning star will prove A glorious body in the oâ—b of Love Thus purest Springs as they do forward go The wider still and still the deeper grow Upon the death of the Right worshipful Sir Walter Pye of the Mynde THus full grown fruitful trees we often find Blown down by sad and unexpected wind He was an Evening-star but so divine As did in glory Morning-stars outshine Vertue was strong in him if truly scan'd As when the Sun doth in his Zenith stand The King hath lost a Subject who should have An everlasting April on his grave Have you observ'd how the pure Frankincense Or Storax burning out delights the sense So he consum'd and dy'd He left a Name A glory to his friends to foâ—s a shame His death deserves of tears more ample store Than there be sands upon rich Nilus shore The Passion of Christ Vita mea fuit mors Christi Mors Christi vita meaest ADam who names to Creatures gave Did in fair Edens garden sin Christ in a garden man to save His bitter Passion did begin There did his sweat and drops abound Yeâ— drops of precious holy blood Which trickled down unto the ground And flowed like a crimson flood There Judas did his Lord betray With a foul and deceitful kiss Dissembleâ—s cast their souls away Regarding not eternal bliss From thence with lanthorns staves and swords They led him like a wicked thief No faithful friend now aid affords No Angel ministers relief To Annas then they brought the Lord The holy Lamb is strongly bound To murther him they all accord In whom no guile or sin was found He could these cords asunder break His mighty hands did heaven frame My sins did bind and make him weak And subject unto pain and shame Herod did scorn him and disdain To see so poor and vile a thing The Lamb no favour can obtain When that the crafty Fox is King To Pilate's Hall they brought him bound For Pilate judgment was to give The Judge in him no evil found But that he might in justice live They did blindfold the God of Light And struck the peaceful Prince of Love Though to the blind he gave their sight Yet nothing could these tyrants move They spit in his most glorious face Whose healing spittle cur'd the blind Although he gave to sinners grace Yet here he could no favour find They 'twixt two thieves him crucifie Who did him mock and basely scorn Between two thorns you might espy The Lilly of the vallies torn This was our Saviour's nuptial day The bitter Cross his marriage bed Where he his patient head down lay His loving Spouse the Church to wed With nails they pierce his hands and feet And with a cruel spear his side From whence the Sacraments most sweet Like to a lively stream did glide At last he bow'd his head divine All things were finisht and compleat His Spirit to God he did assigne And unto us his Merits great The Children of Bethlehem Vox Sanguinis A Voice was heard in Ramab or on high Fair Rachel wept because her babes must die In Betblem Rachel's buried therefore she Is stil'd the Mother of this Infantrie No voice comes sooner to the ears of God Or crieth louder than the voice of blood Herod the Fox these pretty Lambs did kill Who the first Martyrs were by act not will In act and will I would a Martyr prove And give this world to gain the world above Vpon the Worshipful and most hospitable Gentleman Andrew Barker Esq of Fearfwood in the County of Gloucester Integer vitae sâ—elerisque purus OBseâ—ve bright Heavens constellation how The stars do join and make a glorious show Thuâ— vertues meet in him whose noble thought Hath pâ—ous woâ—ks unto perfection brought Hâ— keeps a house compleat to strangers free Without vain-glorious prodigality N 〈…〉 Poâ—teâ— dares to shut his door Agâ—â—nst the sad petitions of the poor No 〈…〉 sie no Treason â—re possest Q 〈…〉 eâ—'d once into his seriâ—uâ— bâ—â—ast Fidelity and truth did ever guide And steer his ship through every wind and tide His Wife is like the pleasant Vine that she May stock the world with good posterity His lovely Children blest with grace and wit Like Olive branches at his table sit And strangers which behold them soon may gather They are the children of so good a Father May he ne're cease through the great power of God To bud and flourish like old Aarons rod. Vpon Saul seeking his fathers Asses SAul did much care and diligence express By seeking Asses in the Wilderness Three days he travell'd with a serious mind To find them out but could no Asses find Find out a hundred you in London may Of Presbyterian Asses in one day The Moon IT is beleev'd the Moon so fair so bright Doth from the Sun receive her candid light My soul no beauty no perfection knows But what the Sun of glory still bestows Upon the fair and vertuous Gentlewoman Mrs M. S. that can sing excellently Gratior est virtus veniens è corpore pulchro WHen first I did this Virgin spie The object pleas'd my serious eye But when I heard her sing I swear The musick took both heart and ear Those inward vertues please us best Which are with outward beauty drâ—st And 't is a comely thing to find In bodies fair a â—airer mind The Harp the Viol hither bring And Birds musitians of the Spring When she doth sing those must be mutâ— They are but Gymbals to the Luâ—e She with her Notes doth rise and fall More sweetly than the Nightingal God in her pious heart keeps place Some Angel in her voice and face The Hen and Chickens SEe how the careful Hen with daily pain Her young and tender Châ—ckens doth maintain From ravenous birds secure her young ones lie Under their motâ—â—ers feather'd canopy Thus his dear children God together brings And still protects them with his gracious wings The bird oâ— pâ—ey Gods Doves would soon dâ—vouâ— Diâ— hâ— nâ—t guaâ—d them with his watchful pow'r Upon the Honourable Colonel Sir Randolph Egerton Knight In pace optimus in bello maximus MY trumpet is to dull too sound his praise Who guilds this Nation with his vertuous rayes His merits do like Nilus overflow The banks of comprehension and I know No better way than silence to commend His vertues which no measure have nor end The muses shall meloudious Anthems sing Of his bold love and valour for the King Upon the fair and vertuous Gentlewoman Mrs. Elizabeth Gwyn of the Hay I Cannot speak her worth but shew my will Her meriâ—s are beyond my pen or skill Her face and mind is fair like to the day Unclouded or like heaven's milkie way When she inclines to marriage may she find A lover correspendent to her mind As she is rich and comely so may he Equal in portion and proportion be As she is kind from him let kindnesse flow And love
too good to lie Under a bushel in obscurity He was not Linsey woolsey or content To be compos'd of King and Parliament He was most loyal and could not dispence With such base freedom to his conscience As to neglect his King he hath a heart From whence transparent beams of Vertue dart After sad years of cruel storms and wind He shall a Haven and a Heaven find The Gardener She supposing him to be the Gardener said unto him Job 20. MARY prevents the day she rose to weep And see the bed where Jesus lay a sleep She found out whom she sought but doth not know Her Masters face he is the Gardener now This Gardener Edens Garden did compose For which the chiefest Plants and Flowers he chose He took great care to have sweet Rivers run T' enrich the ground where he his work begun He is the Gardener still and knoweth how To make the Lilies and the Roses grow He knows the time to set when to remove His living plants to make them better prove He hath his pruning knife when we grow wild To tame our nature and make us more mild He curbs his dearest children when 't is need He cuts his choycest Vine and makes it bleed He weeds the poisonous herbs which clog the ground He knows the rotten hearts he knows the sound The blessed Virgin was the pleasant bower This Gardener lodg'd in his appointed hour Before his birth his Garden was the womb In death he in a Garden chose his Tomb. Copernicus his opinion confirm'd COpernicus his fancy may hold good The earth did only move the heavens stood So earth and houses wheeling round about And changing Climats sound new Masters out The Changes Tempora mutantur nos mutamur in illis THe painful Bee which to her hive doth bring Sweet honey in her tail retains a sting Our sweetest joyes are interlin'd with cares No field of corn but hath some choaking tares The stream which doth with silent motion slâ—de Is oftentimes disturb'd with wind and tide Who sits to day in Honours lap and sings God soon can change his tune and clip his winâ— Sometimes the Sea doth ebb and sometimes floâ— Now with anon against the tide we row No haven's so secure but somâ— ill blast May toss the ship and break the stately Mast Who now in Court doth dance and liâ—t his head To morrow droops and sickly keeps his bed The King may beg and beggars may command High Cedars fall when little shrubs do stand The sweetest com oâ—t I do feel or find Though fortune change is not to change my mind The Hour-glass Inter spemque metumque timores inter ir as Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum OUR time consumes like smoke and posts away Nor can we treasure up a month or day The sand within the transitory glass Doth haste and so our silent minutes pass Consider how the lingring hour-glass sends Sand after sand until the stock it spends Year after year we do consume away Until our debt to Nature we do pay Old age is full of grief the life of man If we consider is but like a span Stretcht from a swollen hand the more extent It is by strength the more the pains augment Desire not to live long but to live well How long we live not years but actions tell Pride and Humility Humilis descendendo ascendit superbus ascendendo descendit WHat pride possesseth man that is but clay Which must dissolve and melt like yce away What frothy baâ—m of self-conceit and love Doth puff his heart and such high fancies move Who doth presame to climb the highest wall Will soonest slip and catch the heaviest fall Proud men have fallen from their stately chairs And falling once have tumbled down the staâ—â—s The shâ—ubs are most secure and free from wind When lofty trees a strong resistance find Behold the twig which gently bends and bows When stubborn Oaks are broken stands and grows Vertue is sooner found in Cotts and Cells Than in great Courts where pride and envy dwells A contrite heart O Lord a bended knee Like sweet perfume shall at thy Altar be Christs resurrection-Resurrection-day or Easter AS when through misty clouds and troubled air The Sun breaks forth and makes the heavens saâ—â— So Christ the glorious Bridegroom came this day Out of his Chamber whore he secret lay The brighter Sun is up whose pleasant rayes Do bless the earth with good and happy dayes Display thy warmer beams and to my heart More fervent heat of zeal and love impart Death could not kill or conquer life nor might The thickest darkness comprehend the light Had he bin still interr'd then we had bin For ever slaves to Satan Death and Sin The Jews to keep him there O fond conceit Roul'd to his grave a stone of heavy weight His body pierc't the stone but was not able To pierce their hearts far more impenetrable He could remove vast Mountains with his Word And in the Sea to them a grave afford The Mountain of my sins from me remove And drown them Lord in thy deep Sea of Love This joyful morning at the break of day Our Saviour rose and left his bed of clay Awake betimes my soul from slumber free And leave thou sin before that sin leaves 〈◊〉 The Spring SEe how the wanton Spring In green is clad Heark how the birds do sing I 'le not be sad Doth not the blushing Rose Breath sweet perfume I will my spice disclose But not presume The dew falls on the grass And hastes away Which makes me mind my glass Which will not stay Now plants and herbs do grow In every place Lord let not me be slow In growth of Grace Behold the fruitful trees And fertil ground Observe the painful Bees Whose hives abound I will not barren be Nor waste my dayes Like slaggards that are free From vertuous wayes The Poets Soliloquy WHy do I droop like flowers opprest with rain What cloud of sorrow doth my colour stain I like a Sparrow on the house alone Do sit and like a Dove I mourn and groan Doth discontent or sad affliction bind And stop the freedom of my Nobler mind No no I know the cause I do retire To quench old flames and kindle better fire It is my comfort to escape the rude And sluttish trouble of the multitude Flowers rivers woods the pleasant air and wind With Sacred thoughts do feed my serious mind My active soul doth not consume with rust I have been rub'd and now are free from dust Let moderation rule my pensive way Students may leave their books and sometimes play I am the Way the Truth and the Life Joh. 14. 6. Via in exemplo veritas in promisso vita in praeâ—â—io CHrist is the Way which leads to heavens joy He is the Truth which errours can destroy He is the Life which raiseth up the dead He is the Way Truth Life unlimited The way is narrow strive to enter in
comers free If thou art rich sell not thy self for pleasure If thou art poor sell not thy self for treasure Make not thy self a Common it is found There 's better pasture in inclosed ground Predestination Occulta esse causa potest injusta esse non potest DIspute not why some Angels stood And others fell which were by nature good Dispute not wherefore God doth take and chuse Some to his grace and others doth refuse The potter doth of the same lump of clay Make vessels some more base and some more gay And shall we question Gods most secret will Why his own creatures he doth save or kill Who 's sav'd or damn'd none knows who look Into the Lords Predestination-book The signs or symptoms which Election prove Are lively faith and undefiled love I will serve God and shake off sinful slumber Who knows but I am of th' elected number The Poets Condition Est Deus in nobis agitanâ—e calescimus illo A Poet and rich that seems to be A paradox most strange to me A Poet and poor that Maxim's true If we observe the Canting ciue What lands had Randolph or great Ben That plow'd much paper with his pen Wise Chaucer as old Records say Had never but his length of clay And by some men I have been told That Cleaveland had more brains than gold Shew me a Poet and I 'll shew thee An Emblem of rich poverty An hundred Verses though divine Will never buy one pint of wine I have a purse as free within From gold as Heaven is from sin And silver thinks I do it wrong If I imprison it too long My purse no constant measure knows But like the Sea it ebbs and flows And as my purse doth rise or fall So I do rule my senses all When I have silver or pure gold I am most brave divine and bold And then I do not hold it fit That any should outvie m' in wit But when these birds have taken wing I cannot crack a jest nor sing All mirth and musick I detest And mad Orlando Mortuus est But stay I think no worldly gain So sweet as a Poetick vein No grief disturbs a Poets head No discontent frequents his bed When riches ebb my wits do flow The rich are dull and nothing know I have a heart I have a mind More quick in motion than the wind And through the twelve Signs I can run By thought more swiftly than the Sun I know the motion of the Stars Which are for peace which are for wars If I the Astrolabium take I know their height without mistake I know without all doubt or wonder The cause of lightning and of thunder What weather will be I descry By the complexion of the sky The vertues of each plant or tree Of flowers and herbs are known to me I good and evil Angels know And can their strength and order show But O my God I know thee best When I confess I know thee least Thus I when I am poor and bare By meditations banish care Then judge which is the greatest curse An empty head or empty curse Upon Peter Fishing DO'st fish in the deep sea 't is Christs command That thou shouldst rather fish upon dry land Thou art a Fisher not of fish but men Consider how to catch them where and when He that will fish for men the only hook Which he must use must be the holy book The Scripture is the net which drags great store From Seas of troubles to the blessed shore To the fond Lover Est forma fugax est foemina fallax BE resolute fond youth and free From courting her which loves not thee Strange passions rule a Lovers brain Now tears then smiles now joy then pain Now hope doth rule then black despair Now he exclaims then calls her fair He sometimes doth Gods aid implore But loves and calls on Caelia more No joy no wealth no worldly bliss May be compar'd with Caelia's kiss But we may seek and find as well Most perfect rest and ease from hell As to derive our Paradise From any womans wanton eyes We shall for honey look in vain From a foul nest of wasps to gain Caelia cheats with her false treasure Guilding pains and death with pleasure She is a wavering fickle toy None is more fond none is more coy If thou art strange then she is free If free thou art she 's strange to thee She will reject if thou dost chuse She will affect if thou refuse If thou art yee then she is fire Burn thou and she will quench desire When thou art kind then she will frown When thou disdain'st she is thine own She laughs and weeps she 's kind and sour She grants denies all in an hour Her bitter frowns her sweetest smiles Are all compos'd of snares and wiles She paints an outward face of love Where she will most a tyrant prove And sometimes she pretends to hate Where her sick soul is captivate What she desires to scorn she fains And seems to wish what she disdains Thus a poor Lover knows not well Whether he is in heaven or hell Then fix thy love on Christ thy Rock Not on a wavering Weather-cock The Presbyterian Covenanter THE Presbyterian as wise men may see Hath little knowledge less of honesty He is both Fool and Knave or such another As wicked Cain was who did kill his brother He 's lately come to England with a story Of a new Pamphlet call'd a Directory His Cloak is something short his looks demure His heart is rotten when his words are pure His mind is carried with a headlong tide Of self-will worldly love presumptuous pride He 's sick of late a vomit may do well Oaths Covenants Tâ—easons from his heart t' expel In this our Land this Presbyterian brat Like Pharoah's lean kine hath devour'd the fat In Scotland he was bred a place too wild To breed an honest or a civil child Let Presbyterians be to Scotland sent I wish them no more plague or punishment Than pleasant flowers will in Gods garden sprout When these unwholsom weeds are rooted out Upon the young most beautiful and most ingenuous Gentlewoman Mrs. Mary Carne Daughter to the gallant Gentleman Mr Thomas Carne Esq once of Bro-Castle IT is a strange and wondrous thing â—o see ripe Autumn in the Spring He scarcely livâ—s that ever saw Fâ—uit the same time both ripe and raw As strange a thing we may behold In her so young in her so old She is a â—ender Child in years I◠〈◊〉 a Matron she appears Observe her growth she is but small Observâ— her wit she is most tâ—ll Here Natuâ—e seems to rob Old age By making Childhood 〈…〉 ve and sage So cleer a Moâ—ning doth betray And speak the fairness of the day So sweet a Bud doth well disclose We may expect a fragrant Rose As shâ— within is free from dross So Nature gave her such a gloss Of gracious Beauty that we have Nothing except her