or Time can spend May all the Good you can attempt prevail Fate finde you fraught fair Winds fill your Sail On the hononored Services of the most worthy Col. Rokeby under the Command of Monsieur Gashion the French General against the Spanish Forces Anno 1646 1647 SIr since in Ages past Verses have been The Balm to Valour and preserved green The Acts of antique Heroes such as made The Reader ravish'd with the Royall Trade Of righteous War upon the Crest of those Whom Fate and Dis-affection made their Foes I hope my maimed Muse late troden down By the red fury of Rhamnusa's frown May re-erect her drooping head and be A Tomb to Royal Rokeby's Memory Whose Acts do want a Homer to reherse Being fitter for a Volume than a Verse Witness the wise Entrenchment that was made Before Coutrey Where the ingenious Spade Furrow'd the fiery Field and did engage The slow-pac'd fury of Spain's subtlest Rage VVhich soon approach'd in a relieving Power Flesh'd with four Thousand Men whose fatal hour Rokeby commanded whose Magnetique Sword Drew bloud at any distance and whose VVord Gave life to all the Cavalry in brief He forced their Retreat and kill'd their Chief This is not all nor must his faithfull Fame Content it self with such a single Flame Mardyke looks big a Fort that did impart The Labyrinths of Mathematique Art VVhose well-man'd Bastions might Defiance give To all the VVorld and unsupported live Upon their thrifty Store 'till Rokeby's Men Made a fierce On-set and into their Den Shot so much fire that all within it say The French Compounded with the Latter Day Next Dunkirk which so many years hath been The Trap of Flanders strait was taken in By Rokeby's bold Assistance whose fair Fate Attempted nought too early or too late Labassay next to this the French oblige With the hot Complement of a close Siege Lans being then re-taken there was slain Spain A Man whose worth out-weigh'd the Crown of Royall Gashion whose Name the Army wou'd Rather than Tears enbalm with Spanish bloud Which shall not cease to run 'till all are made The Subject of a Charnell-house and Spade Untill which time my due Devotion sues That He who now is Subject of my Muse The noble Rokeby may undaunted stand The fixed glory of his Native Land Till honor'd Age conclude his Life and then I wish his Worth may meet some better Pen The Anti-platonick by I. C. with an Answer by T. I. FOr shame thou Everlasting Woer Still saying Grace and nere fall to her Love that 's in Contemplation plac'd Is Venus drawn but to the Waste Unless his heat confess his Gender And the Parley cause Surrender They are Salamanders of a cold Desire That live un-scorch'd amidst the wildest Fire What though she be a Dame of Stone The Image of Pigmalion As hard and un-relenting She As the new-crusted Niobe Or what doth more of Statue carry A Nun of the Platonick Quarrey Love melts the rigor which the Rocks have bred A Flint will break upon a Feather-bed Then leave ye pretty Female Elves To candy and preserve your selves VVomen commence by Cupid's Dart As the King's Hunting dubbs a Hart No more ye Sectaries of the Game No more of your Calcining Flame Lov's Votaries enthrall each others Soul Till both of them do live upon Parol Virtue 's no more in VVomen kinde Then the Green-sickness of the Minde Philosophy they 're new Delight A kinde of Charcoal Appetite There is no Sophistry prevails VVhen Love a loving heart assails But the disputing Petty-coat will warp As skilfull Fencers use to check at Sharp The Souldier that man of Iron VVhom Ribs of Horror all inviron VVho strong with Wyer instead of Veins In whose Embraces y' are in Chains Let a Magnetique Girl appear And he turns Cupid's Curaseer Love storms his Breast and takes the Fortress in For all the bristled Turn-pikes of his Chin Since Love's Artillery their Cheeks The Breast-work which the firmest seeks Come let us in affecton Riot They 're sickly Pleasures keep their Diet Give me a Lover bold and free Not impeach'd with formality Lik an Embassadour that beds a Queen VVith the nice Caution of a Sword between I. C. The Answer LEave thy salt lascivious Lover Is 't no more but Come and Cover Love that is by Lust mislead Is Hellen drawn upon her head And the luxurious Garb is stranger Than the Horse-tail tied to th' Manger That scorching Salamander kills his Sire VVho will confound his alimental Fire Although she be no Dame of Snow VVhich with every Smile will flow Or be transform'd by brackish bloud From a Figure to a Floud Her Love will last when after loathing Thy Marchpane Mistress melts to nothing Love is a Gem in the Celestial Crown A Diamond is never broke with Down Then cease to frisk it so like Elves And make French Monkeys of your selves VVhy should Cowardice prevail Valiant Men do nere turn tail Love is no Faction the direct And true Religion is no Sect Luxurious Lovers do like Rebells frame A War against their King in his own Name Virtue is a Virgins VVealth The Magazine of mental Health And since Philosophy should be The Hand-maid to Divinity Her sacred Sylogisms shall Maintain Lust is Apocriphal The party-colour'd Cod-piece then shall be Struck dumb with Farthing all Philosophy Your pineer-finger'd Souldier which Doth deal in heat of bloud and itch May when the Dog-days do increase Court Venus in her Verdigrese Or finde some Tyndar-hearted Saint Where he may wallow in her Paint For such a piece of potent Pleasure can It 's ten to one charge both your Horse and Man Since Lust is nothing but the foul And fierce Consumption of the Soul Let our embracing Spirits prove The Ioys of incorporeal Love Let Wantons in their wilde Desires Call us Cupid's Crucifiers We will the Wonders of our Love reherse When Fire shall vitnifie the Universe A Blessing to my Creditors THe Debtor to the Creditor did fall Crying Be patient and I le pay you all With such humility come I to you Believing Men and with his Words I sue That you 'll have Patience 't is a Virtue which Will not Impoverish but make ye Rich In Heaven's high esteem And from that Store Who ever hath his Wealth cannot be poor You know the Scripture doth these words afford Who gives the Poor lends Money to the Lord Then whatsoere is scor'd for their Expence Your Interest shall be treble Recompence Is not this well now Who would not give all To have his Use exceed his Principal And yet there shall not on your Conscience lie The burthen of extorting Usury If Giving get such Gain be not afraid For what ye lend shall surely be repaid I but you 'll ask me when why there 's th' offence Y' are guilty of ye must have patience Ye tell me when I say I cannot pay You 'll take an Order with me VVhat I pray You will imprison me
where I shall lie As much indebted to your Charitie This is the way to have God's Curse to sink ye But is't the way to have your Money think ye VVill it not make your very Souls to quake VVhen I shall ask ye Bread for the Lord's sake An hundred hungry Christians likewise lie And you must make me keep um Company Have Patience pray if ye do chance to die Before y' are paid I le write your Elegie And such a serious one void of all Flashes That shall revive ye when your Tomb 's turn'd Ashes I le make your Names to Men sweeter than Spices VVho else would curse ye for your young beirs vices But what 's all this to Money 't will not pierce Your greedy Mindes you 'll not be paid in Verse Nor yet in Prose I see you hold it sweeter To have your Debt in Money than in Meeter VVhy ye shall ha 't Nay do not thank me prey Not yet I mean you know there is a Day Shall pay for all and then kinde curteous Men In every Hundred I le allow ye Ten Why now your Looks plead pitty ye shall see The blessings I have kept in store for ye Blessings that shall prevail beyond your Purses And free ye from Tom Randolphs witty Curses May all your Wives turn honest and your Mothers And waste your wealth no more on younger Bro I wish a blessing upon all your Seed ther 's May all your Children learn to write and reade And cast Account well which in vulgar sence Is to dispose your Pounds Shillings and Pence May they to Riot never be inclin'd Or to the female Gender give their Minde But if it happen so they needs must turn Their Mindes to carefull Marriage or else burn Let them in Heavens name wed and never cease To be laborious for the Worlds increase And though you nere were any I wish then Their Children may be Sons of Gentlemen Have all their Carriage lie in the French Roade To wear their Gloaths Gentile and Al le mode These and such other Blessings sure will stay ye 'Las these may come to pass yet ere I pay ye The Eccho's Oracle an Eclogue betwixt Melancholicus and Aulicus Mel. REport relates that in this Forrest lies Hid in mysterious Concavities A famous Eccho she they say that is Recorded in the Metamorphosis Aul. 'T is said she is Oraculous and can By a most queint Reflexion give a Man Such Answer to his Question that affords Another Sense extracted from his Words Mel. Prethee let 's try what shall we ask Aul. No matter What ask her any thing Mel. Why then have at her I le whisper first Mysterious Mother thou That mock'st the bleating Lamb and lowing Cow Or any sound that doth thy Cavern pass Hearken Aul. Unto the braying of an Ass. Mel. Prethee be silent Aul. Prethee speak in season Ask her who shall be King Mel. No no that 's Treason She dares not answer Aul. Why She need not fear For an whole Army cannot wound the Air Mel. What Heir Aul. Air of this Forrest Mel. Yes they may Cleave it with fire Aul. She 'll be as fierce as they Besides she is so able to retort Do what they can she 'll give the last Report Mel. She 's very old I le ask her if she know Acts that were done a thousand years ago Tell me Great Eccho where with such high fury Did Christ receive his Injury Eccho In Iury Mel. A perfect Oracle She that so well VVith direct Readiness things past can tell Knows something yet to come I am on fire 'Till I hear more of this Now do you try her Aul. Come Eccho say what 's a more monstrous Evil Then we have read in Mandevil Eccho Man-Devil Aul. VVhat are those men that Faction so inspires To be our Churches Edifiers Eccho Fiers Aul. What did they think of our Comunion-table VVhen they were so un-affable Eccho A Fable Mel. Thou knew'st the Jews i th' days of great Herodias Will Scotchmen be Commodious Eccho Becom odious But if our Persons in their power fall VVill they prove Rational Ecch. Prove rash on all Aul. How can they be our Commonwealths deflourers They were our Peace-Endeavourers Eccho Devourers Mel. Peace is pure sweetness though we care not for her VVhat is their due that do abhor her Eccho Horror Aul. Come come I 'le ask no more for she affords Nothing but by advantage of our Words Let us depart 't is likely we can finde Little to do that wanton with the VVinde No prethee stay I have two questions more To ask and I have done Aul. Prethee give o're Mel. A Lady loves me Eccho shall I chuse her To be my Mistress or refuse her Eccho Use her Mel. I call her Dear and she stiles me her Hony VVhat can be greater Harmony Eccho Her mony Mel. VVhil'st that is lasting I will ne'r forsake her If thou wilt have me undertake her Eccho Take her Aul. This is meer humour and indeed no more Then what is daily practiz'd for before Some do propound those thoughts that do disease um They angle for such Answers as may please um And do commit unto the Hearers trust The charge of pleasing not of being just So a weak Prince and Parasites accord He asks is't well They answer Well my Lord A Bill of Love BE 't known to all men by these Presents I Franck Wild-love late of Infidelity i th' County of Inconstant Gentleman Acknowledge with the greatest zeal I can My self to ow and be indebted to Maria Eair-chast Virgin late of True i th' County of Credulity the Summ Of my Affections and to tender um Upon her first Demand to which I binde My Body Heart Life Soul in this most kinde And amorous Obligation such a Debt No Heirs nor yet Executors are set To see discharg'd but onely He that owes Must pay or the fair Creditor must lose Dated the one and twentieth year o th' Reign Of Cupid King of Hearts our Sovereign Witness the Cherubims and Common-weal Of Angels here I fix my Hand and Seal Fr. Wildlove A Farewell to his worthy Friend Mr John Curling upon his Voyage to the Indies IF I were more enamor'd with thy sight Than with thy safety I should much invite Thy stay in England and dissuade thee from Those motives which divert thy feet from home But since I see the sullen Wars increase And sad Destruction mortifie our Peace I do applaud thy Providence and pray That thy Negotiations Night and Day May prove propitious thou I hope wilt finde Though amongst Heathen Spirits more inclin'd Unto Humanity then some that here Usurp the name of Christians May the cleer Beams of divine Protection ever dwell In all the Good you can attempt Farewell The Pursuit betwixt Claraphil and Clarinda Clarinda AY me flie me not Good faith I do mean no harm I am out of breath Support me from death With thy all-curing Arm Alas I faint My tyring Limbs do tremble Then
Such sacred Circles I le set to inchant thee Here Health and Treasure With pliant Pleasure Shall ever spread Their flowry Bed Then leave beguiling And grant in smiling The thing that I Must do or die A Song sung by Mr. Bushel's Miners in Devonshire written in 1645. LAdies of Love and Leisure Where is your Greatness gone What sudden high displeasure Hath forc'd ye from your own Whilest we live here obscurely In Cottages unknown No Cares or fears We ever think upon Our VVals are highest Mountains For we live in a Coomb We drink of flowing Fountains Our dwelling is our Tomb Nor look to be exalted Before the Day of Doom Where Scibes for Bribes Shall nere deny us Room We hear a dreadfull Summons Up in the high Country Our gracious King and Commons They say cannot agree This Harvest is for Cedars And no such Shrubs as we Yet still we will Pray for a Unity The Day we spend in working And chanting harmless Songs No Malice here lies lurking Our thoughts are free from Wrongs And those that Civil Wars do love We wish they had no Tongues No Drums no Guns Or what to War belongs We wound the Earths hard bowels Where hidden Treasure grows With Twibell Sledge and Trowells Pick-ax and Iron Crows We search for sinfull Silver Which all Dissention sows Their Health and Wealth Men do so ill dispose We eat the Bread of Labor And what Endeavour brings Sorrow is no next-Neighbour Our Eyes they are no Springs Unless we shed a tear or two When as we pity Kings The Fates of States To us are Hebrew things A Ramble by Mr. A. B. STay shut the Gate Tother Quart Faith it is not so late As your thinking Those Stars which we see In the Hemisphere be But the Studs in our Cheeks by good Drinking The Sun 's gone to tipple all night in the Sea Boyes To morrow he 'l blush that he 's paler than we Boys Drink Wine give him Water 't is Sack makes us The Boyes Fill up the Glass To the next merry Lad let it pass Come away with 't Then set foot to foot And but give your Minde to 't 'T is heretical Six that doth slay VVit Then hang up good faces let 's drink till our Noses Gives freedom to speak what our Fansie disposes Beneath whose protection now Under the Rose is Drink off your Bowls 'T will enrich both your Heads and your Souls With Canary A Carbuncled face Saves a tedious Race For the Indies about us we carry No Helicon like to the Juice of Wine is For Phebus had never had Wit or divine is Had his face not been Bow-dyed as thine is and mine is This must go round Off w'your Hats till the Pavement be crown'd With our Beavers A Red-coated Face Frights a Serjeant and his Mace And the Constable trembles to shivers In State march our Faces like some of the Quorum When the Whores do fall down the Vulgars adore uni And our Noses like Link-bayes run shining before uni The Answer HOld Quaff no more But restore If ye can what y' have lost by your Drinking Three Kingdoms and Crowns With their Cities and Towns Whilest a King and his Progenie's sinking The Studs in your Cheeks have obscured his Star Boys Your Drink and Miscarriages in the late War Boys Hath brouht his Prerogative so to the Bar-Boys Throw down the Glass He 's an Ass That extracts all his worth from Canary That Valour will shrink Which is onely good in Drink 'T was the Cup made the Camp to miscarry You thought in the World there was no Power could tame ye Ye tippl'd and whor'd till the Foe overcame ye Cuds Nigs and Nere-far-Sir hath vanquish'd God Damme Fly from the Coast Or you are lost And the Water will run where the Drink went From hence ye must slink If you swear and have no Chink 'T is the Curse of a royall Delinquent You love to see Beer-bowls turn'd over the thumb well You like three fair Gamesters four Dice a Drum wel But y' had as live see the Devil as F. or C. Drink not the Round You 'll be drown'd In the source of your Sack and your Sonnets Try once more your Fate For the Kirk against the State And go bartar your Beavers for Bonnets You see how you are charm'd by your female Enchanters And therefore Pack hence to Virginia for Planters For an Act and two Red-Coats can rout all the Ran ters The Prisoners IN a Dungeon deep we lie Cramp'd with Cold Captivity VVhere the Bed-less bottom owns Nothing to relieve our Bones Yet such is the sacred scope of the Soul That we never shrink At the stink VVhen cold water we drink 'Cause Conscience crowns the Bowl Fetter'd in this filth we lie For we know not what nor why But we ghess if understood 'T will appear for being Good That Law doth strangely on Conscience entrench VVhere known true men are Planted far From the Iudge at the Bar And Felony fills the Bench By the Pride of impious Powers This unhappy Case is ours VVe are lost in Wealth and Fame Fort a fault that knows no Name If it be Reason that signes our Restraint 'T is then to be Good Understood A Disease of the Bloud The Devil is turn'd a Saint On Clarinda her Answering I and No WHat Crosses are in Love when ere I come VVhere fair Clarinda sanctifies the Rome VVith my re-iterated Love-suit she VVith I and No so tempts and tortures me That I have lost my Patience If I cry Fair Lady shall I leave you She says I Agen she answers me VVhen I would know If I shall wait on her i th' Evening No With these two Words unpleasingly mis-plac'd She gives my fair Affection such Distaste I know not what to ask then do I thunder Against the God of Love and raging wonder That such a form where all Perfestion grows Should so afflict me with her I's and No's An Elegie on a Good Man YOu that did love with filial fear The Soul that shines in yonder Sphere VVhose shadow is informed here Put on your Sack-cloth and appear Here lies the Map of Martyrdom Let all therefore avoid the Room But those that can when as they come VVith Tears and Ashes build a Tomb For here the Cause of all your Cares Lies floating in the Churches tears VVho did expire as it appears Not for His Faults but Others Fears You that are Valiant Great and Wise Attend his sacred Obsequies For on this holy Herse there lies A Theme for Tears in unborn Eyes Although he was not understood Yet from his Spirit and his Bloud Did flow a fair and fertile Floud Of all that men call Great and Good Religion was his daily Guest VVithin the Treasure of his Brest VVas more than Language ere Exprest Angels can onely tell the rest FINIS