with a red Letter there I 'll blot it out and over-write the same In blackest Ink the filly Brokers name For if your George so great a name must have Then much more he that keeps your George his slave Another upon the same subject INto a Broakers shop once being call'd I found a Knight o' th' Garter there install'd But when the sad relation I had hear'd I then concluded 't was a Knight interr'd The Brokers Bulk I thought the Altar stone Because his Robes and Order lay thereon The Shop a Temple I conceiv'd to be The Broker some poor Priest appear'd to me It griev'd me much that so a Knight should ly Without an Epitaph or Elogie I call'd for Pen and without fear or wit Unto his Memory these lines I writ Vpon the same again YOu â—augh at Catholikes and them deride Because they honour those are sanctified Why to Idolatry are you then drawn By a poore thing that subject is to pawn If you will Idolize your George advance A fitting pension for his maintainance Let him not beg let not his Knights descend Soe loe as ask a Broker what hee 'l lend Upon his Idoll lest there come complaints Against the Church that should maintaine those saints For who so sees your George in pawn beleives Like Baals priests his priests do play the thieves The Prellat of the Garter they 'l be bold To say in private eats up all the gold That is in publique offered to your saint Besides the knights of Windsor make complaint And in derision and great scorne doe say Some of your knights are near as poor as they And that it s fear'd that they will have the faces Ere long to beg the Windsors poor knights places Which to prevent let each rich knight give a little And for your wretched knights build up a spittle A Sonnet upon the same subject ROom for unthrifts here comes a Company Room for spendthrifts St. George is at hand With his Idolators Dect up in costly furs And their rich Colours That lately were paun'd Bald pates and peâ—iwigs High plumes and tossing Sprigs See how they daunce their lygs Thorough the Strand Room for Rascalls here comes a company Ushers and Marshalls look well to your doors Taylors and Sempsters With Silkemen and Mercers And Goldsmiths and cutlers Approach with their stoares And see who comes after Made fit for the slaughter A wife and her daughter For the Chavaliers Whoors Room for Beggers here comes a company Old Retayners to this upstart crew That many years served And well have deserved But now may be starved For ought their Lords doe For some Lady mother Or some Basterd brother Some Pander or other To black turn'd their blew Old King Henry blest by thy Memory Lord how we vary since thy golden dayes Thy Knights of the Order Like Knights to Prince Arthur Did search out each quarter For Honour and praise But now they adventure A Tavern to enter And sit in the Center Of common stage Playes Room for Bowlers here comes a company Room for Iockyes the Lords do appear Let Ordinary Eaters And old Iest repeaters With Banckers and Cheaters Make all places cleare Heer 's Blew and Carnation The Colours in fashion In spite of damnation Shall sweare and forsweare To a Ladies Chambermaid YOu are your Ladies Cabinet and may At midnight let in sharp Ey'd waking day And bring those blushing acts of ours to light That being seen shew blacker then the night A Chambermaide doth serve in these two places Sometimes a watch Sometimes she a Iewell case is One while a Watch to see none gaze upon her And then a Case wherein she locks her honour O gentle Watch in thy most noble Case Know you a Iewell keep then be not base An Atheist a Poet and a Puritan ATheists Poets and Puritanes are at odds About their none their one their many Gods The Atheist is at liberty and he Dreams not of Unity or Trinity The Poets speak of many Gods 't is true But honour none at all or very few The Puritan his onely God doâ—h ty As he were Jealous of the Trinity A Partner with his God he will not have See heer 's a Foole a Deviâ—l and a Knave To reconcile these three and make them one Is but to hang them all and make them none A Papist a Protestant and a Puritan THe Papists do believe more then they see And guided are by faith The Protestant stands out and will not be Removed from his own path The stiffneckt Puritans are so uncivil Rather then follow them they 'll run to the Devil A pestilent profest Puritan I Do believe that this accursed sect Is much more antient then men do suspect The Iewes when Christ was crucifi'd I finde In that dam'd act were variously inclin'd Some pearc't his fide others his name deride Another Crew his garments did divide And these were Puritans I 'l lay my life Whose seed since then have ever been at strife With Surplices with Rochets and with Coaps Hating to hear of figures or of Tropes Reall presence and what 's good by thems abated With brain sick Zeale more then the devill it 's hated Go on mad beasts put on our saviours Coats But his bright Eyes will know his sheep from goats An ignorant obstinate Brownest THat wicked Oath of kings Supremacies Saith hee 's a trap to catch poor simple flyes For how can knowing men be so mislead As to believe our saviour had a head For many Provinces believing thus We must make Iesus Christ most monsterous Then how great Monsters silly beasts are you Makes him your Churches head that mends your shoe A Cobler or a Roague of meanest trade In your no Church the Churches head is made See then at Banbery and in black Friers Christ hath a head but doubtless you are Lyers The Catholiques with Puritans averr Ther 's but one Church one head so then you erâ— But you defie them both so do they you Goe on mad Beasts Let the devill take his dew A Ladies Roses that ever lookt rusty CArnation Roses on her feet still wither And being put on fresh i' th' Morn ere Noon They blasted are do but the cause consider And then I know you 'l leave to wonder soon Lucinas Roses it is too well known Do grow within a yard o' th' burning Zone Vpon a Ladies Roses that were always fresh FLorellas Roses on her fresh still grow And in the hottest dayes do flourish most Hearken to Me if you the cause would know Luna hangs ever dropping o're the coast Then know those Roses cannot wither soon That are so far from th' Sun so neer the Moon The Fidlers that were committed for singing a Song called The clean contrary way THe Fidlers must be whipt the people say Because they sung the clean contrary way Which if they be a Crown I dare to lay They then will sing the clean contrary way And he that did those merry Knaves betray Wise men
flattery hence Such is your now known vertues excellence Like a rich diamond by your own power alone The breath of venom'd tongues i' th ayr is thrown Foule mouth'd detraction you have now struck dumb Envie is silent for the time to come Let me with pardon then great Sir declare How much in these your honours I have share Your now approved goodness to my glory Confirme what I foretold of your Worths story You have most honoured Lord to my great fame Gain'd me from all good men a Prophets name And though my modest joyes were long since born Yet they but learn'd to speak this very morn And with the croud that to your Altar brings Iewells or plate for this dayes offerings I humbly pray they may without offence Supply the place of Mirrh and frankinsence Upon the Altar of your favour throw Those Zealous wishes which from my heart flow As the sun this morn set forth And increases in his growth As it by degrees doth mount In our lengthening dayes account Certain minutes every hower And each day augments his power Even so I humbly heaven desire Your spring honours may aspire Untill they overlook the tops Of all your wishes and your hopes When thus the height of bliss is won Then let them like Ioshua's Sun Not for howers but for ever Stick and thence retire never And may no age an Ecclips see In you or your posteritie Thus he humbly prayes that stands With patience waiting your commands The Second Coppie Vpon reading the former verses his Lordship waâ— pleased to command Mr. Titchborne to goe with the Author to Mr. Atturney Generall to pray in his Lordships name a speedy dispatch of business which the Author had with him at their returne these were made iâ— the presence of Mr. Titchborne and by him sent to hiâ— Lordship to shew that he studied not but wrote freelâ— and wantonly making it a pleasure and no trouble Great Sir I Borrowed Neptun's Trident for an hower Gave it an Indian charge him by that power To dive into each wealthy Chanel where The rich orientall Pearls engendred were He wing'd his feet with Fins seemed to strive With nimble Zeal the Dolphin to out-dive He went and came as swift as wish or thought And tould me Neptunes store house he had sought That he the high archt Rock had undermin'd And searcht the Mer-Mayds Cabinet to finde A Pearl which both in beauty and in wealth Might equal what was once drunke at a health When that ambitious Queen had at a feast The great Mark Anthonie for her cheif guest But all was empty and his labour lost Great Britans Merchants had them all ingrost And they within your Temple should appeare This day to wellcom in this new born year A Negro then I entertain'd that knew Where the unpolisht sun burnt Diamond grew I baith'd his feet in hot and quick desire And sent him to those Rocks that do aspire In their ambitious growth to check the Sun He mad 's return as soon as thought upon Gave me the answer that I had before Great Brittains Merchants had ingrost the store A light heeld Fancie I did then bestride And in conceit upon a cloud did ride Whose long wing dar'd the winds unto a chace And beat the nimble Swallowes in their pace The Persian Looms the wealthy Indian shore For hangings Carpets and for golden Oare I did survey and found it was most true All that was good had been brought thence for you With that my griefs great weight did quickly break The cloud I rode on and I did awake For all this while I was but in a dream Begot the day before by an extream Desire to offer some such sacrifice The which for â—arity might catch your eyes Sleep banisht thus a bright ey'd waxen taper Presented to my view Pen Inck and paper My Muse came dropping in as she had gone That morn to bath her self in Hellicon She forc't me write these humble lines which may Quoth she out live the offerings made this day For Jewells Hangings Plate all fortunes treasure Are but times slaves and vanish at his pleasure Two things alone Immortalize great men And that is Children and a fruitfull pen The first heavens hath provided and you may Create the second if you please this day And from the first of this new years good dayes A Poet make to singe your vertuous praise A great Lady presented the said Lord Treasurer with a silver skreene having these following verses ingraven about it made by this Author at her request YOur vertues like this silver skreen Are known to enterpose between The flameing Eyes of envious fools Till your clear fame their Fier cools Sit then securely take your rest And with this Motto dare their Test Detractions sparks no more dare fly But like these Coals shall wast and dye The same Lady presented his Majestie the Queens Picture in a Square table wrought with a needle so artificially as the most Skilfull Painter could not have better'd it and at the 4 corners were the names of his Majesties fower kingdomes with these verses made by the same Author SHe whose ambitious Genius watching lies With ardent Zeal to catch your sacred Eyes Discovered hath the blessed object where Those stars doe move as in their proper sphere On that she humbly fixt her loyal heart Untill her soul had taught her hands the art By which that objects sweet Idea thus Was made to feast those eyes that govern us If then this zelous offering finde but grace Your fower Kingdoms next you shall give place Unto the Prince Princess Duke and the other Expected fourth Modell their third Brother And thus by Hierogliphicks she aspires To teach her hands to speak her hearts desires Mrs. Sanderson her Majesties Laundress presented a Celler of empty glasses to her Majestie Madam THese little glasses had been sil'd with Iuice Prest from the fruits that grow in Parradice The tree of Life I would have squeez'd and thence My humble Zeal had brought the quintessence Of that as yet untouched fruit and here Have tendered it to welcome in this yeare But gratious Mistres know that I have been At every gate courting each Cherubin Tould them to whom I humbly would present it They prai'd my pardon vow'd they durst not ventur'â— Your Majestie before all creatures living A bottle should have had of their own giving But 't was decreed for Womans first offence No Aqua-vitae should be brought from thence Accept then gratious Madam what I give And if my humble prayers can make you live You shall Immortall be 〈◊〉 â—â—at denyed Since none are so but those that 's deified I shall impâ—â—â—â—ne heaven with my best breath You may transported be and ne'er see death That all the world may know as we believe You are derived from heaven not from Eve Iohn Eliot Finis An Elogie On the Lady Jane Paulet Marchioness of Winchester daughter to the right honorable the Lord Savage of Rock-savage I
I Can neither beg relief nor fly Yet to the hazard of thy Crown If I should perish by thy frown Where I a perfect Rebell fall The world shall me a Martyr call And I hope in revenge of me Abolish quite thy Laws and thee On Loves blindeness WHat is the reason Love is blinde Because for Love no cause we finde But here and there and this and that We doat on for I know not what Lust does somewhat rampart prove And straight is christned into Love So that though beasts we are in shame We must be Lovers all in name 2. The black we see do fair admire And fair there be that black desire A sort there is affects the crump And all alike but for the rump Love being now a Drunkard grown And can a Madam hug in Ioan Tell me then must not Love be blinde When Women lov'd are for their kinde 3. We men an Idoll Beauty make And do adore't for Fancies sake Our thoughts create the handsom creature And our tongues commend the Feature Or else the Breech first warms desire And then the face maintains the fire Does not then Cupids eye-sight fail That for the Heart does wound the Tayl. 4. For what should Love have Eyes to see When all his sports in Darknesse be But little is his use of Light Whose only work is done at night In that alone Loves pleasure lyes That for the hand is made not eyes Where let me lye and let me be Blinde Boy as dark and blinde as thee An Elogie on the Death of Love I Never yet wrote Love-lines Now a few Upon the Death of Love me thinks are due From every Pen And most unskilfull I That would be doing want Ability No Muse can I invoke unto my aid They are all dumb or suddenly afraid To touch this Subject They 'll not have it read In Crimson Characters that Love is dead No Muse What then Turne over Historie Or search the Poets Try if they can be Assistant by example Learn to move In their high strains Ovid wrote much of Love But not his Death His Art of Love was light And in the Elogies that he did write He could not frame perfection of that Ruth Which here is laid before us in a Truth Nor had Euripides in all his pack A Theam so ' Tragick or a Scean so black As is the Death of Love Stay Speak no more Nor study for expressions to deplore The losse of him The sense of these two words Love 's dead enough of Argument affords To melt dry eyes to Tears and hearts of stones To moulder into Sand by ceaseless grones While I was writing this to Earths great wonder The Heavens thick showres did weep and rore in thunder A Song GIve me a Preacher Whose Life is a Teacher Whose Sentences suit with his Actions Who rayls not at Rochets Nor preacheth odd Crochets Nor troubleth the Church with new Factions No Scoffer no Squibber No Ale or Wine Bibber No wrangler for Tith-Pigs or Geese But Truth teacheth plain And good house maintain And loves more the flock then the fleece On the Duke of Buckinghams Death An Elogie YEt were Bidentals sacred and the place Strucken with thunder was by special grace Nere after trampled over if this blow That struck me in my height and brought me low Came from the hand of Heaven let it suffice That God requir'd no other sacrifice Why do you bruse a Reed as if your rod Could wound me deeper then the hand of God Why do you judge me ere the judgement day As if your verdict could Gods judgements sway Why are you not contented with my blood For hate of me why make you Murder good He that commends the fact does it again And is the greater Murtherer of the twain Oh high-revealed malice that canst draw Heaven out of Hell check Gods proper Law Nadab and Abibu that thus accord To offer your strange fire before the Lord Take heed 't will burn you 't is a dangerous thing He that doth blesse a Murtherer kills a King I now have past your pikes and seen my Fare My Princes favour and the peoples hate Strange blear-ey'd Hatred whose repining sight Feeds all on darknesse and doth hate the Light Shews any goodnesse in me was I all Marra corrupta and stigmaticall Was I all ill Yet those that ript me found Some of my vitalls good some inward sound I had a Heart scorn'd danger and a Brain Beating for Honour life in every vein Nor was my Liver tainted but made Blood That might have serv'd to do my Country good Had you not let it out nor was my Minde So fixt on getting as to make me blinde And to forget mine Honour and my friend Witness those now who need no more depend And those whose merits I have made and rays'd Will finde out somthing more that may be prais'd All do not mourn in jest ther 's some one Eye Shed tears in earnest when it saw me dye And whatsoere those Remonstrants make I never lost my self but for their sake That God forgive them for the rest I le say I lov'd the King and Realm as well as they EITAPH REader stand still and look lo here I am That was of late the Mighty Buckingham God gave to me my being and my breath Two Kings their favour and a Slave my death And for my fame I claim and do not crave That thou beleev'st two Kings before a Slave An exortation for the battering down of those vanities of the Gentiles which are comprehended in a May pole written by a Zealous brother from Black-fryers THe mighty Zeal which thou hast new put on Neither by Prophet nor by Prophets son As yet prevented doth transport me so Beyond my self that though I ne'r could go Farr in a verse and all rimes have defy'd Since Hopkins and good Thomas Sternhold dy'd Except it were the little pains I tooke To please good people in some praier booke That I 've set forth or so yet must I raise My spirit for thee who shall in thy praise Gird up her loynes and furiously run All kind of feet but Satans cloven one Such is thy Zeale so well dost thou express it And wer 't not like a charme I 'de say Christ bless it I needs must say 't is a spirituall thing To raile against the Bishop or the King Nor are they mean adventures we have bin in About the wearing of the Churches linnen But these were private quarrells this doth fall Within the compass of the generall Whether it be a Pole painted and wrought Farr otherwise then from the wood 't is brought Whose head the Idolmakers hand doth crop Where a lewd bird towring upon the top Looks like the calf at Horeb at whose root The unyoakt youth doth exercise his foot Or whether it reserves its boughs befriended By neighbouring bushes and by them attended How canst thou chuse but seeing it complain That Baal's worship'd in the groves again Tell me
how curst an egging with a sting Of lust do these unwieldy dances bring The simple wretches say they mean no harme They do not surely but these actions warm Our purer blouds the more for Satan thus Tempts us the more that are more righteous Oft hath a brother most sincerely gone Stified in prayer and contemplation When lighting on the place where such repair He views the Nymphs and is clean out in 's prayer Oft hath a â—ifter grounded in our truth Seeing the jolly carriages of the youth Been tempted to the way that 's broad and bad And wer 't not for our private pleasure had Renounc'd her little ruff and goggle eye And quit her self of the Fraternity What is the mirth what is the melody That sets them in this Gentiles vanity When in our Synagogues we raile at sin And tell men of their faults which they are in With hand and voyce so following our theams That we put out the Sides men in their dreams Soundes not the pulpit which we then belabour Better and hollower then doth a tabor Yet such is unregenerate mans folly They love the wicked noise and hate the holy Routs and wilde pleasure do invite temptation And this is dangerous for our damnation We must not move our selves but if we are mov'd Man is but man and therefore those that lov'd Still to seem good would evermore dispence With their own faults so they gave no offence If the times sweet enticing and the bloud That now begin's to boyl have thought it good To challinge liberty and recreation Let it be done in holy contemplation Brothers and sisters in the fields may walk Beginnings of the holy word to talk Of David and Vriah lovely wife Of Tamar and her lustfull brothers strife Then underneath the hedge that wooes them next They may sit down and there act out the text Nor do we want how ere we live austere In winter Sabaoth nights our lusty cheer And though the Pastors grace which oft doth hold Half an hower long make the provision cold We can be merry thinking ne'r the worse To mend the matter at the second course Chapters are read and hymns are sweetly sung Ioyntly commanded by the nose and tongue Then on the word we diversly dilate Wrangling indeed for heat of Zeale not hate Where at the length an unappeased doubt Feircely comes in and then the lights go out Darknes thus makes our peace and we contain Our fiery spirits till we set againe Till then no voice is heard no tongue doth go Except a tender sister shreike or so Such should be our delights grave and demure Not so abominable and inpure As those thou seek'st to hinder but I feare Satan will be too strong his kingdom 's heer Few are the righteous nor do I know How we this Idoll e're shall overthrow And since our sincere Patron is deceas't The number of the righteous is decreast But we do hope these tim'es will on and breede A faction mighty for us for indeede We labour all and every sister joynes To have regenerate babes spring from our loynes Besides what many carefully have done Getting the unrighteous man a righteous sonne Then stoutly on let not thy flock range lewdly One their old vanities thou Lamp of Beawdly One thing I pray thee do not too much thirst After Idolatries last fall but first Follow this sute more close let it not goe Till it be thine as thou would'st have 't for so Thy successors upon the same entayle Hereafter may take up the Whitson Ale Epithalamium Vpon the Celebration of the happy Nuptials of T. L. Esquire and his Lady AMong the Multiplicitie of Votes True hearts Oblations sprung from joyfull thoughts That are here offer'd at the sacred Shrine Of your best Marriage be accepted mine They are the wishes of a Heart as true As any his of the more elegant Crew In choicest numbers and Poetick Dresse That oft to such Solemnities do presse And plainly though set forth they yet may prove Effectually propitious to your Love Your now united Love thrice happy Pair Whose equall Hearts concorporated are May the effects of that still springing Love Growe to a numerous Issue to improve Your Family with new Increase of Joy I wish you the first year a hopeful Boy To Wisdom and to Valour Next year after I wish no lesse a no lesse hopefull Daughter To Beauty and to Vertue And that so While your first fruits unto your comforts grow You may till many years their course have run Yearly increase a Daughter or a Son That they like Olive branches round may stand Fair to inherit both your Love and Land And for your selves mine Orisons shall be You may like Isaack and Rebeckah see Long life and happy dayes speaking his praise Who hitherto hath blest you in your wayes And may the progresse of your whole Life be As full of joy as this dayes Harmonie That individually till life be done You may continue still two Hearts in one And when your days are numbred and made even You may but part on earth to meet in Heaven To the Lord Chamberlain MY Lord so subject to the worser fame Are ev'n the best that claim a Poets name Especially poor they that serve the stage Though worthily in this verse hating age And that dread Curse so heavy yet doth lye Which the wrong'd Fates fall'n out wth Mercury Pronounc'd for ever to attend upon All such as only dream of Hellicon That durst I swear cheated by self opinion I were Apollo's or the Muses Minion Reason would yet assure me 't is decreed Such as are Poets born are born to need If the most worthy then whose pay's but praise Or a few sprigs from the now withering Bayes Groan underneath their wants what hope have I Scarce yet allow'd one of the Company Of better fortunes that with their good parts Ev'n want tâ—e ways the bold and thriving arts By which they grow remarkable and are priz'd For sure I Could not live a thing despis'd Durst I professe 't were in my power to give A Patron that should make him ever live Or tell great Lords that the main reason why They hould a Poets praises flattery Is their own guilt that sence they left to do Things worthy praise ev'n praise is odious too Some few there are who by this boldness thrive Which yet I dare noâ— follow others strive In some high minded Ladies grace to stand Ever provided that her liberall hand Pay for the virtues they bestow upon her And so long she 's the miracle and the honour Of her whole sex and has forsooth more worth Then was in any Sparta ere brought forth But when the beautie fails a change is neer And she 's not then what once she did appear For the new giver she dead must inherit What was by purchase got and not by merit Let such write well that do this and in grace I would not for a penâ—â—on or a place Part so with mine