to marry pelf to pelf You buy a Husband but you sell your self Fat soils bring Weeds the cleanest Corn is found In leaner Fields if you well dress the ground Tho more of cost yet more content is had To build a House than buy one ready made Philip of Spain did to no meanness fall From Cloister poor to raise th' Escureal Scorn not poor Strephon you may be o'recome The thred-bare Gauls o're-ran triumphant Rome Sure honour he must gain in this hard Fight If he retreat not whilst a Crown 's in sight He need not fear white Wiggs nor downy Chins Who lose their leaves before their fruit begins Yielding your self to such you must decay And mony lend against your self to play There 's no more dang'rous no more frequent thing Than is a Surfeit of raw Love i' th' Spring When Love to his try'd Stomach must succeed And like digested meat new vigours breed Their ravenous Love with active motions blown Like Fire consumes what e're it preys upon His flames yet burns not like aethereal Fire Whose nature is to last and to aspire Days may in Winter be both cool and fair And Fires in coldest Seasons brightest are Love may sometimes seem sleepy in his breast Souls thus tow'rds Night compose themselves to rest But wake more fresh and with new vigours blest Youths burning-Feavers make 'em restless lye Consume their loves in vi'lent heats and dye His Aguish-heats are temper'd well with cold Such Loves like that Disease will longest hold See now fair Caelia neither Wealth nor Youth Can true content secure or vouch for truth In rich and beauteous Meads sweet Flowers grow His craggy Rocks have precious Stones below Unpractis'd Youth may lavish out Love's store Turn Bankrupt and forsake you being poor His Age will be so frugal not to waste That treasure but preserve it to the last No other Rival now sure dares advance Unless that thin-gut-chap fall'n Temperance Although your Empire great as Caesar's were A meager Cassius you may justly fear Abstemious Zealots ruin'd England more Than all its jolly Heroes did before O Coelia ne'r to such become a Prey Make use of fleeting Joys whilst they will stay Since Life 's confined to so short a day A right Good-Fellow daily whets delight Returning briskly as to th' Wedding Night Life 's fed with Love as Men with Oysters dine They cloy if not digested well with Wine Heightned with mirth and Sack he entertains His Spouse with various sorts of pleasing Scenes Wit 's requisite in Love as in a Play To recompence the labour of the Day These Virtues Coelia then in Strephon chuse And in all others their Extreams refuse Though he want Wealth and Temperance and Youth Yet he abounds in Merit Wit and Truth Or if to wed without those three y' are loth You have your self enough of them for both The Perfect GENTLEMAN 1678. Vpon the Death of the truly Honourable Gentleman John Howe Esq of Langar in Nottinghamshire my most honoured Friend EYes having done their parts the Tongue must speak And tho loud sighs have made mine accents weak That brest must yield a sound whose heart-strings break Their griefs are most who silently lament Such fires are hottest in their Fornace pent Yet fann'd by sighs the flame now finds a Vent Those sad reverberating groans that rise Fro th' Caverns of my bosome change their noise And Eccho-like dissolve into a Voice No show'rs of tears my sorrows storms can lay Nor sighs those gusts of grief blow tears away My life must be one rainy-windy-Day The Life of Man depends on breath in chief Chameleon-like my sorrows gain relief Fro th' inward air of sighs that breath of grief Such signs of grief by Nature should be sent Since she has lost her choicest Ornament Her Winds in sighs Rain should in tears be spent Both Nature and the Graces here combin'd All beauties both of Body and of Mind Perfections scatter'd through the World here joyn'd So curious so proportion'd every part That neither strength nor Beauty got the start Hence Durer might have form'd more rules of Art Those charming Muscles that his smiles compos'd Were like the Net which Mars and Venus clos'd Consult but him old stories did not feign Th' Amazonian Empire prov'd here plain Beauty and Valour did together reign Nor joyn'd they only in his outward frame Their Virtues in his Soul too were the same Like Lightning bright but threatning was his flame So working in his Breast his Spirits were Had they been ramm'd in any breast but there The weaker Gun had shiver'd into Air. His Body only his great Soul did fit And there alone his Soul could only sit Nature's right Tallies this with that did hit His brighter Virtues we cannot unfold Those that less dazling are we may behold 'T is wise to save the very dross of Gold What we can comprehend we here but write We guess at Pyramids above our sight And by their Shadows only take their height So true a Patriot It was his care His Prince's and his Countries love to share No Favourit and yet no Popular So kind a Husband his fair Lady knew No carriage but like that when he did wooe All he did then pretend he since made true So good a Parent it may raise debate Which of his gifts may claim the higher rate Their Life his great Example or Estate He was the bravest Foe the truest Friend That ever Love or anger did pretend Both which with Justice did begin and end To all in want he favours did bestow His Charity like Nilus did o'reflow And made the neighb'ring barren Soyls to grow His Conversation pleasant was and good And like to Israels heav'nly Manna prov'd To all dilicious yet substantial food Designd with Justice by all-knowing Fate To all that Fortune gives both good and great Rich is the Stone that without foyl is set How soon our hopes were bury'd in despair Thus Fabricks vast require no lesser care Nor cost to build than keep 'em in repair Nature's great Gifts he nobly did requite The Splendors he receiv'd he made more bright His Diamonds paid as well as borrow'd light But we have lost the comfort of his rayes This sudden Cloud our Senses did amaze Darkness seems most after the brightest blaze Let us with sadness his blest period view Sickness and Pains did so his Soul pursue As Fate would try what a great heart could do Too soon his lofty Soul did mount the Sky Spirits too fast sublim'd in vapours fly As richest men decay that live too high Th' eternal spark Heav'n kindled in his brest By mortal damps could never be supprest But soar'd a Phoenix from its flaming Nest. So th' sacred Lamp that was the High-Priest's care Long hid in darkness when expos'd to th' Air Reviv'd its sleeping flame and beam'd more fair His Soul above the Sun's scorn'd to set low Its faculties ev'n then did bigger show As Evening shadows in dimensions grow His
Citie 's joy declare Henceforth the Drawers will not be thy friend All hearts together at this instant meet And all his welcome in one shout combine The Crouds are weav'd together in one Street And all their Eyes are thridded on one line The little Pupil of the Eye contains At once the spatious object of the Skies Yet such a Miracle in Charles now reigns He 's big enough himself to fill all Eyes The Walls instead of Bricks of Heads are made So closely joyn'd and orderly they stand And for more Ornament it may be said Each wears a Turky Carpet for a Band. With Pray'rs and loyal Vows the Town 's made sweet Houses are Wall'd with Men Roofs tyl'd with Boys The Chanels washt with Wine Streets pav'd with feet And all the Windows glazed are with Eyes §. 16. Come now show service Muse as well as love When both Necessity and I do call Let thy soil'd Lawrels then a Beesom prove And sweep the way before him to White-hall White-hall late soyl'd with dirt with Thistles grown As commonly is seen where Swine resort But here a Miracle will soon be shown Hee 'l make it both a Garden and a Court. For whereso'ere he sets his Royal Foot Soon will the Red and White-Rose there be shown Since our great Charles is their undoubted Root For him both York and Lancaster do own Though now my Muse th' hast brought him to the Port Thou may'st not enter for the Courtiers say Thy Poverty will not beseem a Court Although thy Love and true Allegiance may Thou canst not then what there was done relate That is impossible for thee to show But tho these Wishes cannot gain the Fate To come to him may they to Heaven go The SOULDIER 1660. To the Illustrious and High-born Prince James Duke of York c. THE litttle Spot I on Parnassus till Were it great Prince but fruitful to my will The Lawrels that my slender Stock allows Each day should yield fresh Garlands to thy Brows And tho last Month great Charles did justly gain The spreading boughes one branch does still remain Which shortly will a greater thing be thought If fitting Wreaths be to thy Merits brought Since all the Lawrels that the Earth brings forth Will be too scanty for thy growing worth Thine Ancestors and Parents all were sent By Heav'n to be their Ages ornament With all their several Virtues thou art fill'd Roses and Lillies Essences distill'd Thy Father's Soul vyes with thy Mothers face From her thy Beauty and from him thy Grace Nor is this all thou must more Iustice have Prudent with Iames and with great Henry brave Thy Royal Fathers Crowns being from him torn Wise Providence ordain'd thou should'st be born For so what from him by our Sins were ta'ne By thy great Valour might be won again And tho with bold success they storm'd the Walls Thou like Camillus had'st expell'd those Gaules But that kind Heav'n in league with us did stand Whose aid did save the labour of thy hand Thus Hezekiah might devoutly boast When Angels routed the Assyrian Host. Whilst such ones fought for us a doubt might be Whether they took not one of them for thee Such is the lightning of thy piercing Raies And such fair Signs of Conquest in thy face So true a heat thy noble Passion stirr'd So swift the motion of thy flaming Sword Nor was 't enough thy Birth did thee advance Valour thy Nature and Inheritance But thou hast practis'd War ev'n from thy birth Like Cadmus's Soldiers peeping first from Earth The Martial Skarf thy swathing-band was deem'd Bullets thy Nuts and Drums thy Rattles seem'd Bellona was thy Nurse with blood thee fed Bright Steel thy Blankets and the Field thy Bed Alcides's sp'rit in thy young breast did dwell Who in the Cradle did the Serpents quell Young Princes bred up in luxurious Courts Like May-Kings are alone design'd for sports Silk Knots their Colours from vain Women torn Nor seek they other Forts than theirs to storm Vict'ry thine only Mistris was and there If ever thou wilt turn Idolater Bold Scythians so a Spear did fix in Ground And there alone their reverence was found Nor did those sullen times infect thy mind Tho fierce as Lyons yet as Ladies kind This made th' admiring World both love and fear Thy Grapes produc'd both Wine and Vinegar Gentle in Peace in War most bravely bold Thy Springs in Winter hot in Summer cold Compos'd in tumults and in troubles gay Thou like the Porpois canst in tempests play Cromwel ne'r thought his bus'ness to be done Whilst thou wer 't safe tho all Foes else were gone His restless jealousie disturb'd his mind More dangers yet in thee he fear'd to find But when the Fates thee in his pow'r had brought He only then himself in safety thought Ierusalem of rescue thus despair'd And the grim Saracens no longer fear'd When they with joy the Austrian Leopard saw To hold our Cor-de-Lyon in his paw But of thy Chaines he was not long time proud He could not keep this Thunder in a Cloud And now thy spreading Fame began t' advance Which he did hear with terrour out of France That sound scarce settled when behold again One louder when thou fought'st for worthy'r Spayn Honour thine int'rest was and sway'd thy heart To take the juster tho the weaker part Thus did brave Guy the bloody strife decide And help'd the Lyon as the weakest side Thy brave Atchievements made the Tyrant quake And at the last his Grave for refuge take BEAUTY'S ENEMY 1660. Vpon the Death of M. Princess of Orange by the Small Pox. HEnce hence vain Fancies 't is a Sin to be A witty praiser of a Misery Like those hard Wits who name the Scars Upon her Face Ennamel and bright Stars They crown their brows with Cypress boughs and make Garlands of Flow'rs which they from Coffins take Then should the Iews those hands have kist with joy That did their Temple and themselves destroy Her Eyes amidst her torments sparkled beams Thus martyr'd Saints smil'd in their hottest flames Nor can the Parallel be well deny'd Since ' it s too true she Beauty's Martyr dy'd Fatal Disease thy Spite too oft is sent Like Sequestrators on the Eminent Thy Crimes like those of their damn'd Masters show Like them thou ruin'st England with a blow Great Charles his loss and hers were near ally'd In them the Monarchs of both Sexes dy'd Most cruel Death could not one wound suffice Must she as many have as Heav'n has Eyes Each Spot upon her Face a Comet show'd Which did alas this fatal ruine bode So do those purple streaks that often stand Upon Aurora's Cheeks tell storms at hand This fatal Mask that thus beclouds her Eyes Is no deformity but a disguise 'T is but an Angel's Veil she now has on For veil'd they are when they approach the Throne THE GENTLEMAN 1662. To 's honour'd Friend Sir Ger. Clifton of Clifton K. and B. TH'
imbalming Art that checks the pow'r of Time And curbs Corruption in its very Clime That guards our Carcasses against the Foes Which in the trenches of the Grave repose With whose repairs our Cottages are drest Till the return of their Coelestial Guest Yet yields to Verse a drop of Ink can guard From rav'nous Time more than a pound of Nard When Bodies by such means are most kept safe Thy lie i' th' Tombe but live i' th' Epitaph Yet Verse from whence such benefits accrue Has a design and hopes for more from you Thus Kings of old whence streams of Honour come Receiv'd their Crowns fro'th ' Common-wealth of Rome Nor does the Simile unfit appear Since a whole Senate's congregated here For your great Family did always use A Caesar or a Cato to produce In this one House a noble croud appears The eighth Sphear shines thus with a thousand Stars Like Pliny's fruitful Tree from whose large root An intire Orchard did together shoot One dreamt a Vine sprung from his Daughter's Bed Whose lofty branches Asia overspread Thus England's grac'd and shelter'd by the Tree Of your illustrious-fruitful Progeny The Chanel of your Blood 's unmixt and free From common Issues like to that fam'd Sea Which proudly sucks into its Womb profound That Mess of Rivers which did Eden round You are a rich compound and Heralds view A troop of Nobles and yet all in you Your Person 's a whole Presence in each Eye Ten Heroes in their mixt Elixirs lie You are Mosaick work ta'n in tight sense Where each piece speaks a several excellence THE INVITATION 1662. To the worthy Lady Mrs. Margaret Trafford IT is a Sin to know where Vertues are Goodness and Beauty and not make a Pray'r T' injoy 'em since then Madam all can tell In you these blessings with rich plenty dwell I should be impious not to request To see you and then after to be blest Your absence is a Judgment most men say But little less than that at th' latter Day When we shall want by day the Sun 's great light Nor must injoy the beauteous Queen of Night Black fate and yet your absence makes each time Mourn without light as guilty of the crime 'T is true these Planets may be seen and are When you are absent but they then appear Like dying Tapers or with truer sense Like things that want their prime Intelligence That 's you you gild their Orbs and then refine Their beams by yours and teach 'em how to shine 'T is a religious point now to contend T' injoy you since you'r more than any friend You are a blessing Madam and a Crown For Vertue 's so and serves you as her own How great 's your priviledge since what the best Of Saints did strive for you find in your breast Your goodness will instruct you more at large We are your Creatures Madam and your charge You must be careful of us and create By your rich presence a more happy state Haste then thou true Divinity and give These blessings that we may be good and live Right CHOICE at last 1662. To the same THE Soul too oft in Coldness lost Stands need of Zeal to thaw that Frost Whose Sunshine can great Vertues bring Blossom the Mind and make it spring Fir'd with that sacred heat my breast Copies in flames the Phoenix Nest. The ancient Bird consum'd with Fire Revives into a new desire I' th' Cynders thrives the hopeful Birth As Ashes help t' improve the Earth Those will the fittest Compost prove T' inrich my Heart that Soil of love Cutting the Suckers from the root Will make my Myrtle branches shoot When Zeal's to more than one inclin'd It is th' Idolatry o' th' Mind Love canton'd out lessens its store As many Sons make Kings ev'n poor But Fate does so my Heart advance To be your sole Inheritance That Monarch of my breast as due No Heyr apparent owns but you The noble Romans thus supply'd By Adoption what the Flesh deny'd Observing more returns of worth From Choice than from uncertain birth Those easie charms that Nature move Are but the Childishness of Love The noblest Triumphs and more fame From Consuls than their Tyrants came Till Caesar's fate did overcome And made one Trophy ev'n of Rome My Heart that Common-wealth of Love Like that of Rome in this did prove To present Rulers It was true But yearly chang'd again for new With Crouds of Deities well stor'd And as they pleas'd it them ador'd Like Caesar's your attractive sway Makes it my interest to obey And like dull Mayors inslav'd by Gain I boast the glory of my Chain The LIBERAL LOVER 1662. To the same WHat can my Mistris want whilst I Lay some small claim to Poetry With Cleopatra she shall vie My boasting shall not her deceive For Poets Pope-like Kingdoms give Nay more can make the dead to live Compar'd with Poets Kings are poor Kings have done much but Poets more For they made Gods for Kings t' adore If glitt'ring Pearls seem richer prize I 'l millions give for my Supplies Drop daily from Aurora's Eyes Rubies and Saphires shall not fail With red and blue Clouds I 'l prevail To drop 'em down in shining hail If I once say 't I 'l surely do 't Planets instead of Stars shall shoot And drop down Diamonds at her foot Of Silver her I 'l never stint The Moon 's my Mine and the Man in 't Shall be the Master of the Mint If Guinnies seem the better change Phoebus my Patron shall advance For Gold 's made only by his glance For all these Riches I am poor Then why should I thus feign a store When really her self has more Pearls Rubies Saphires she outvies And all the Diamonds of the Skies With Teeth with Lips with Veins with Eyes My idle Fancy makes me sin The Moon 's not current 't is but Tinn Compar'd to th' Silver of her Skin By these great truths I am controul'd My Guinies will not value-hold She 's all one piece of Angel-Gold DARBY-SHIRE 1663. To Mr. P. K. upon his Prolusion to his intended History of that County I 'L knock at Gate Who is it lives here Ho! It is a Palace by the Portico The Porch of Solomon was thus esteem'd Compar'd with others it a Temple seem'd 'T is thine Aurora which as Poets say Is Harbinger to a more glorious Day Thy Lady-Fancy in her Bed still lies This is the Vsher that attends her rise Her Face is beautiful and makes us wooe T' enjoy the Blessings of the Body too Thy quick Invention may be justly ghest More than half ready since her Head is drest Thy Preface like a hopeful Heir does stand Rich in Reversion of the Father's Land The infant-bud that does such sweetness own What may it promise when the Rose is blown In this small Handful thou hast clutcht such store Methinks thy Country should afford no more Yet Darbyshire is so enrich'd by thee It now may
your virtues imitate Her Chariot then through th' heav'nly lawn By Doves not Sparrows will be drawn And virtuous Love henceforward boast You have restor'd what Venus lost But Madam 't is too sad a truth Bacchus is so debauch'd a youth That Lees as soon will leave his Wine As his corruptions he 'll refine Ill humours soonest are withstood And cured best by letting blood That hot-braind God with fumes opprest Bleeds here some ounces of his best His Heart-blood-drops he offers here To you his fair Deliverer The Stoick so himself resign'd Hence owning the eternal mind And thus his best Drops did prefer To Iove the great Deliverer This my Oblation may attone For all offences he has done If in your Favour it finds place The Reprobate recovers Grace Your influence then must be divine Since Madam it can thus refine The dregs of Love of Wit of Wine The HUFFER 1677. Spoken by Ant. Eyre Esquire and directed to the right Honourable the Lady Roos when he acted Almanzor in the Granada at Belvoir in way of Prologue I That made Fortune Lacky by my side Had Fame for Trumpet and Success for Guide I that did conquer Armies with a word Making Fate yield to my more pow'rful Sword I that could with a Smile bestow a Crown Then blast my new rais'd Monarch with a Frown Almanzor I who by the Poet taught Huft more than ever Hero did or ought I now submit and lay my Lawrels down But from your favours hope a nobler Crown Whence is this sudden calm what could controul The working passion of my boistrous Soul My breast did like some Northern Climate show Its fountain froze and cover'd o're with Snow Thaw'd Ladies by your Eyes those Mid-day Suns The melting Spring drops Rubies as it runs My Blood once safe under this Icy Lock Softens like Coral on the melting Rock No Lapland Spell can temper any Arms To be of proof 'gainst Beauties stronger charms And one amongst those Ladies I have ' spi'd Whose pointed rayes wound more than Almahide Nature and Dryden all that both could do To perfect Almahide falls short of you Tho they advance the lustres of her Eyes Above the Stars o' th' Rocks or Gemms o' th' Skies When you appear their sickly beams give way Like frighted Phantoms to the springing Day Nay I who thought no passions me could move Be'ng free from fear and therefore free from Love Greater than Nature you my Heart constrain'd And Love has now his stubborn Rebel chain'd Yet not content to rest his Empire there It 's doubly chain'd and now inslav'd to fear Two strong Diseases I at once indure Yet as an Ague does from Plagues secure My trembling Fear lest I presumptuous prove Allayes the raging Pestilence of Love The REPRESENTATION 1677. Vpon the Honourable Mrs. Bridget Noel acting the Part of Almahide in Dryden's Granada at Belvoir A Stonish'd Muse now thou hast gain'd thy Tongue Exalt thy fancy in a noble Song Thy honour'd Belvoir that most pregnant Wombe Of Wonders with amazement struck thee dumb Thus the old doubtful Priest his Lips were seal'd When that bright Guest i' th' Temple was reveal'd Surpriz'd alike I silently retir'd Withdrew my Soul and inwardly admir'd That such a Lady on the Stage was seen Less'ning her self to represent a Queen Conscious of which her Cheeks with Scarlet dy'd Show'd Modesty in her most Royal pride Heav'n's Face is fleckt so when the bashful Light Muffles her Glories in the Clouds of Night Mistake me not her Splendors were not gone They only seem'd so like the setting Sun Like him she in her self is always bright Though not to us plac'd in a vary'd light She may confirm the Tartar Princes's lot That Stories say was by the Sun-beams got Her Bodie 's cloath'd with light the Sky's her Skin That glorious Curtain of the Heav'n within Her circ'ling Blood like to the Worlds bright Eye Rounds all her World and glitters through her Sky Dangers may come then by too near a view Her beams both dazzle may and burn us too For Light is Fire altho but thinly spread Through burning Glasses of her Eyes convey'd Mongst all those flames sh' has none that inward glow Nor feels the heat that warms our World below Cold is her Blood as tho with Iulips fed Not strange since in a Snow-house it is laid Frost in her Blood tho Fire is in her Eyes Thus Lightning from the coldest Region flyes Whilst the Town-scumm those Midianites o' th Stage Surprize the Zimries of this wifling Age Apparent dangers must to us accrue Since real Princes here may justly woo Beautie 's fair Goddess and the Queen of Night When gaudi'st in their tissu'd robes of Light Tread not th' Etherial Stage with greater state Tho Gods themselves from them attend their fate Whirl'd in their Sphears those bright Machines they fly Quite through the space of their archt-roof of th' Sky Nor does the simile unfit appear Or for this Actor or this Theater Formerly when the Prophets zeals were fir'd By pow'rs which they ador'd they were inspir'd Blest age wherein the Oracles of Wit Were sacred Dictates from the Altar Writ When Poets were the Trumpets that convey'd Those formed sounds that by the Gods were made Then from the Deities they gain'd respect But now from heedless Mortals find neglect Immortal Verse sprung from immortal aids Now Misses rule then rul'd the Thespian Maids Hence they of future things divinely writ Now past and present fooleries are Wit Poems and Poets one another fit It must be so now thirst of Fame's away Quencht with large Draughts and th' â— out-grows the Bayâ— Whilst Farces and such Vices of the Stage Corrupt the Poetry of this loose Age. No Heroe no Mecaenas in these times For Subject or incouragement of Rhymes Dryden alone has got some Title now To th' Lawrel wreaths that grace his lucky Brow Tho neither Deity nor Muse inspires Her breath alone fann'd his Poetick fires Th' old custom is to his advantage broke For here he made those words the Goddess spoke Blest by her Mouth they may obtain the fate Of Oracles and gain as long a date Thus his rude Oare cast in that precious Mould Lost all its Dross and turn'd refined Gold She did create its worth and made the Play And breath'd the breath of Life into his Clay The VISION 1677. To the Right Honourable the Lady Roos c. Vpon the Birth of the Heir of Rutland THis Night injoys so sweet a calm As th' Air dissolv'd it self to Balm So deep a silence all things keep As Nature's self were hush't asleep Cynthia neglects her watch i' th' Skies And drowzy too has clos'd her eyes Or is with her Endymion hid Under some cloudy Coverlid Yet light I through her Curtains ' spy Scap'd from the corner of her Eye But soon the Harbinger of Day Chas'd all those gloomy shades away With Roses strew'd the Paths o' th' East Till Tethys had her Lover drest That way
and I both Bankrupts run Like wandring Luther with his bare-foot Nun. The RENT due Ian. 1. 1679. To the same LAst years expence has made me frugal grown Your Rent I sav'd altho so long in Town Wit is not current now the humou'rs hot I' th' Town to talk of nothing but the Plot. No Age a greater wonder hath reveal'd The more discover'd 't is 't is more conceal'd Thus some late Poets of their Phoebus write His Highness hidden is by too much light But lest my diff'rent fate an obscure name Should prejudice the title of your Claim â— have survey'd th' Estate and Cottage too In this short Draught I here present to you Three Storyes high upon an Arch 't is plac'd Two Windows in the Front with Chrystal glaz'd A double Door the Leaves of Coral made Which to the House 'twixt Rayls of Pearls convey'd A supple Porter in his Lodge does wait To welcome every Guest that pass'd the Gate On either side the Door two Spots of Snow Discolour'd now where Roses once did grow Two Tunnels to convey the thicken'd Wind Rais'd by the heat not yet to flame refin'd Of Bones the Roof did like a Cupo show Thatcht o're with Straw that on the Soyl did grow Worn thin with time to keep out Wind and Rain The Cupo warmly coated is again The bony frame dawb'd with a mud-wall case Refin'd by th' Fornace of its native place The lower Rooms mean Offices contain And cleanly kept through which the Kennels drayn I' th' second Story Places choicely drest And first the Presence-Chamber where does rest In fitting state the Monarch of the breast The Dining-Room where Ventiducts are set To bring refreshments for excessive heat And Stoves which wisest Nature there did frame Like Vestal-hearths to save the dying flame A sacred Fount does in the Center rise Rich as the Spring that water'd Paradise Th' Egyptian Queen who quaft a Kingdom up Infusing Pearls into her wanton Cup The Draughts compar'd ours have by far the odds This was the Nectar of the Demy Gods And looks as tho that blushing Queen of Gemms The Ruby were dissolv'd into these Streams Hence Princes are in this rich Colour drest Since Life it self shines in a Scarlet-Vest And now am I to the third Story come The highest and alas the weakest Room That once Experience would but cross the Jest And prove the highest Chamber furnisht best For Knowledge Nature's guide should quarter there And Iudgment her most trusty Councellour Invention Memory and Wit should stay And all their Treasures in this Turrit lay But for such Guests I have no fitting Room Or if I had I 've no such Guests to come If you vouchsafe it You must from your store Like Princes send your Furniture before I 've here design'd a Draught with little cost To stand a Land-mark lest your Claim be lost And mighty Purchasers for want of heed Oft' leave out petty Parcels in the Deed. When Alexander did the East subdue And he no Conq'rour was compar'd to you Amidst his many Trophies of renown Summing the Audit he had lost a Crown The PROROGATION 1679. To the Honoured Sir Scroop Howe Knight of the Shire for Nottingham-shire SOme good from Prorogations come Since worthy Sir they send you home We Country men did want you more Than did the Courtiers heretofore Your presence will advance our fates As much as it has their Estates Be kind to us and no more give They 'l suffer you at home to live Love is not only here more true But it is also safer too I' th' bargain they are much mista'ne Who pay for pleasure and buy pain No Popish Plots disturb our Nights We sleep or wake to safe delights They surely find a dreadful state Who burning fear from Love or Hate No sawcy Politicks we read Nor shoot our bolts who shall succeed To Law and Gospel we refer it Let them decide who must inherit Who without these thinks of the Crown We need not fight nor pray him down We here hate nothing but the French Their Wine their Worship and their Wench Welcome dear Sir to your true Friends Who love you only for your ends For your own worth you are desir'd By all but by your self admir'd Nay you are lov'd by more men here Than you or I lov'd Women there The WELCOME To the right Honourable the Lady Anne Howe THe archest Cheats to London get Yet London is the archest Cheat. Most there i' th' gentle-craft combine Both Courtier Lawyer and Divine Methinks their arrogance is odd To rob both King the Law and God London repent for what is past Thou mak'st us fair amends at last You Madam and your health repay All Treasures it e're took away For all the millions we have last Wee here get Damages and Cost Your presence will decay its store And we shall now complain no more Then fit Returns must needs be sought For all these blessings you have brought Our services our pray'rs and we Long since were your propriety And tho all these belong to you Here we present 'em to your view Their claim of int'rest to renew Then Madam you can never fail Of hearty welcoms from the Vale The noble house from whence you came Vouchsafing Honour and its Name Our Ioy that health o' th' Soul we give For th' health of Body you receive But we have better things than these More worthy you and fit to please To make this bold assertion good Behold th' Elixirs of your blood Fair transcripts of your noble mind Rich proofs Sir Scroop and you are kind Sure-vouchers of a future bliss Hopes of the next Ages Joyes of this May Sons and Daughters live t' inherit Both Father's and the Mother's Spirit Love then may justly Trophies build For they will surely win the Field When all both Men and Women yield BEAUTIES MONARCHY 1679. To the Honourable Mr. Briget Noel vouchsafing a Favour VErse without truth is a dark Day Where peeping glimpses play Without the favour of one shining ray When Poets leave fictitious Dreams Apollo gilds their Themes Smiling upon 'em with auspicious beams Accoutred thus He courts your sight And you reflect his light Like polisht Chrystals making it more bright The treasures of his blazing Mine All objects else refine Your Eyes alone gild o're his Silver shine 'T is you out-influence the Sun His Charter is out-done You make me Poet who before were none The Statue thus that Memnon made Was silent in the shade Struck with the Sun-beams vocal Musick play'd No greater Treason can their be Than your own modesty Refusing Vniversal Monarchy Apollo with his Troops tho stands Like the Praetorian Bands Forcing the Empire on unwilling hands Inthron'd you sit on glorious blaze Disdaining Lawrels Bayes Glories incirc'ling you of your own Rayes Dazled to death by your fierce Beams We but refine our Fames Like Martyrs glorying in the purging Flames But if your pitty cool your Eye And will not let us dye Like