would shoot And batter down all good repute Cause there might none unspotted be To rail at their iniquity 'T is true by these I have been face't And in a single sense disgrac't But unto these I nere inclin'd Nor gave the hostage of my minde Nor did I think Clarena cou'd Have once suspected that my bloud Was so unworthy as to please Or take impress from such as these If I should once be lesse then thine Alas I should be none of mine Should I in passion once agree To play upon another shee I should suppose my sin most great And like a Hermite nere retreat To see thy face but end my years In deserts where no sign appears Of love and beauty Clarena Speak thou thy self thy self and say I know thou lov'dst me passing well Thy fancy had no parallell And where most love doth reign we see Thee alwaies is most jealousie And where most jealousie 's in fashion There 's most critick observation Say the 〈…〉 Clarena thou whose eyes Have peept in all my secrecies And out of conscience say if you Ere found what now report doth shew Did not your self with more intent Then they whose words and complement Proceed from idlenesse which drawes A large discourse from any cause Inspect my life yet never saw The smallest breach in Cupids law Clarena 'T is true Tha. O clear the heavens then And let thy cheeks return agen To their first splendor Call no more For Charon's boat to cast thee ore But let 's renew our faith and so Wee 'l finde Elizium ere we go Place'd in our loves Cla. Pardon I 've done I 'le court thee with an orison Pardon O pardon I confesse My own my own unworthinesse Tha. Can she unworthy be whose face And vertuous temper and whose grace The glorious angels nay yet higher The gods inrag'd with earnest fire Wax warm by courting I 'le give ore Thy pardon 's seal'd I 'le say no more Clarena With kisses then my own I 'le cherish Dumps get you gone let sorrow perish I 'le live and love Charon avoyd More nobly are my thoughts imploy'd Thalius is mine and boast I may That I am his true Clarena 9. The Complaint I. AH mee I faint I fall I perish Unlesse my Claria come and cherish My blew lips with a balmy kisse Sacred blisse That recovers The infatuate souls of lovers Come and feed Me at need II. Where art thou gone th' art alwaies void When thou shouldst be the best imploy'd Empty airy easie gentle thing Let us cling 'T is an action Gives love-sick spirits satisfaction And doth rout Pining doubt II. Come let us twinde let 's clip and close And drink Nectarian juice that flowes â—rom the fresh riv'lets of thy lips Where there skips Many a Cupid To revive a soul that 's stupid And relieve Us that grieve 10. The Refusal NAy do not urge thines eyes no tear shall rear 〈◊〉 recantation in my heart No art â—hall disresolve my fixed minde Nor binde â—o over to anothers will I 'le fill â—o fancies but my own where love Doth move â—e to solicite in this sute I 'le do 't â—hall thy untempered tears recall And thrall 〈◊〉 heart that 's free to fry and tire In fire Of vexing fancy No I 'le first Be curst With each pernicious and ill fate But that When I was first polluted in The sin Of serving thee thou hadst no purse Nay worse Thou hadst not one poor spark of grace Nor face That might intice me no desert Thou wert Indow'd with All thy breast within Was sin Yet though thou hast no coyne nor grace Nor face And though thy sins are manifold Untold It is not this provokes my heart To part With thine only my will I vow Sayes Goe Or otherwise I could have staid And plaid The fool I could dispend with all Those small Defects and could have born what ere Was there Of sin too much only I must Be just Unto my will which has forsook Loves book Then do not welter at my change Think strange At no mischance 'T is the lame cause Withdrawes My love as won it Both my love and loathing Spring only hence I love and loath for nothing 11. The Check DOwn ye aspiring thoughts where would ye mount What would ye veil proud Atlas brow or count The countlesse lights of heaven Do you strive With Polyphemus to unthrone and drive Great Jupiter from his imperial seat Alas alas your power is not so great Review your weaknesse span your selves again I am but dust and ashes O refrain This frailty and self-flattery and see The inside of thine imbecillitie I 'm but a pondrous clod and cannot rise Above the stage of earth each thought that flies Higher then that is haughty and doth prance And may with its excelsity advance My finall ruine He that looks to sit Above his fellowes deals with pride not wit His guide is Folly and his friend a stranger The Life-guard of his safety is but Danger Then die conceits and rest within the tombe Of earth polluted earth from whence ye come 12. The Query SAy Shall I love her I or no Her that has left me wounded so So wounded that I must indure An endlesse wound a wound past cure Past all the cure of physicks art That art works nothing on a heart A grieved heart a heart that groans That groans for love whom love disowns Whom love for spite did set on fire Did set on fire and then retire Retire like Nero to some mont And there in scorn did look upon 't Upon the heart she had betraid Upon the flame that she had made Oh shall I still her eyes adore Adore her eyes that have giv'n ore Giv'n ore to heal me or recruite My faintings when one look would do 't Say Shall I at her absence grieve Or pin my love upon her sleeve No all 's but passion and there needs No such endevour no such deeds Then farewell love thou restlesse guest And lodge no longer in my breast I 'le walk no more in beauties light Since 't is more dangerous then night Full of deceitfull Crannies and Will scarcely let good tempers stand 〈◊〉 day in peace And hardly knowes At best how to pay half it owes â—ur offered souls it takes in vain â—nd payes our favours with disdain 13. The Wish I. O That I had by Gyges ring Or Daedalus his well-flegd'd wing â—r Europ's Bull or any thing II. â—hat would convey me to that Zone â—here my heart imp't by love is flown â—nd left me dying all alone III. â—et speaking tears expresse my woes â—h heartlesse man Oh fortune Oh! 〈…〉 ve bring my heart or let me go IV. â—o fetch that tyrant's that possesses â—ine in her bosome and neer guesses the large extent of my distresses V. â—et since th' hast stoln by thy sweet power â—y heart and keep'st it in thy tower â—nd leav'st me in despair to louer VI I 'le count such fortune but a bubble And to
revenge me of this trouble I 'le say thou hast a heart that 's double 14. The Petition I. O Pity pity him that fryes Upon the grid-irons of thine eyes What greater plague could hell devise II. No Juniper has such a coal No torture can torment a soul So bad as love when 't doth controul III. The Sun growes warmer by my fire And by my sighs the winds retire My tears advance the Ocean higher IV. O turn thou Antidote alone And mollifie thy heart of stone Before I perish flesh and bone V. Change thou thy Marble into mosse And do not smell of Charing-crosse To lose a hard heart is no losse VI O cool me in thy shady grove And from my senses quite remove The sulph'rous odour of a stove VII Or else a tyrant thou wilt bee That hast the heart to stand and see The wofull martyrdom of mee VIII Of me whose labour and endever Was prone to be thy slave for ever And to resist thy fancy never IX Of me whose solace and whose rest Could not suppose it self more blest Then when I thought thou lov'dst me best X. Of me of me and only me That fanci'd once I ne're could be Happy but in thy companie XI And now that thou shouldst be my bane Retorting such reward again Is grief too great for me t' explain XII But since I must be thus withstood And none may quench my boyling blood My passion shall produce a flood XIII A flood of tears shall flow so free That they shall quench these flames in mee And then I 'le scorn thy Love and thee 15. A brave temper I. YOu lumps of the earth will you never be wise Go barter your plumbets for plumes and arise Your spirits you tire like Dun in the mire The gold and the silver that Fortune hath lent you Hold your freedoms in chace and disfigure the face And in stead of a pleasure are toyles that torment you II. And these are the blessings your labours beget Y' are clear of the Compters yet ye are in debt For sadly you finde you have prison'd your minde And nothing can baile out your hearts from your purses Besides you induce Panick fear and abuse Well riveted in by the poor in their curses III. Now as for the Poets they feel no such weight What they gain in the morning they spend at the night And when they haue done they lie down with the sun Commending their bodies to heavens protection And they fear not the thief that disturbs your relief That keeps you awake and your joyes in subjection IV. There 's none wil break through our wals we presume To rifle our cossâ—rs and ransack our room We have no such things as Jâ—wels and rings No St thief nor high-way man arms at our treasure We do what we please and our selves keep the keyes Of our own inlargement and take'â— at our pleasure V Each man is a Consull t' himself and doth sit Sole Judge in the Courts of Canary and wit We build not our hopes on the pardons of Popes Our hearts they are clear and we will not imbrue um With corruptible crimes and errors of times We never fall out about meum and tuum VI While we in the lofts of our liquor do lie The eyes Astronomy reach not so high For then we have more of riches in store Then they which have purchast Episcopal livings With the lands and the means of Chapters and Deans Which now 's their fee simple for only thanks-givings 16. The Search OUt she 's gone and I will follow Help me help me good Apollo Come Lucina bring thy taper Lusty Mars lend me thy rapier I 'le not stay for time nor danger Nor be dasht by friend or stranger Night and day I 'le not be quiet Nor receive my rest nor diet Till I finde What my minde Feeds upon No frowning rigor No fierce Wolf nor furious Tyger Shall repeal me or refrain me No ingagement shall constrain me No false pleasure shall me flatter No tempestuous storm shall batter Down my fixed resolution Nor affront my prosecution Till my breath Fails by death But who shall be my attendant Presbyter or Independant Pages sure I need not any Though I might be serv'd by many With no rivall I will mingle Love is best when it is single Ergo I alone will wander Till alone I understand her That doth sway Night and day My vext fancy Oh but whither Shall I ramble to be with her If among the gods I enter There I shall not circumvent her She 's not so devoutly given As to lodge her soul in heaven She conceiv'd it not her duty To trust more to zeal then beauty Nor could I Ere discry Any cause why she should do it When I nicely look into it Beauty natures prize and potion Got more profit then devotion Is 't not true then judge you of it We love that most yeelds most profit Therefore I will never minde her In coelestial orbs to finde her It would be Hard for me Yet perhaps she took her station In some apparent Constellation Which if sea-men did but know it They would point their staffe unto it And for observations follow Her in stead of bright Apollo If among the birds she gathers She 'l be noted by her feathers Such as are Richly fair And will quite forsake loves fountains For the sweet Arabian mountains Where the Phenix lately burned To whose nature she is turned If with Pluto she abideth And within those groves resideth Then I am resolv'd to think it That she is in every Pinket That is seen On the green But why are my thoughts extended To such breadth she 's comprehended On the surface of the centre Where earth's globe doth complement her She 's apparent in each flower And therein displayes her power Smell but on the sweetest posies Look upon the blushing roses There thine eye Shall discry Her but 't is too faint and weakly And in them she looketh sickly Th' are but types and cannot shew her As she is one half so pure She is the prop of natures glory Beauty far exceeding story That may teach perfection better By her golden rule and letter Such is she Sought by me Now if any man discryes her For loves sake let him surprise her Let him take her by the finger And to Cupid's palace bring her And of her take twice two kisses And hee 'l need no greater blisses 'T is sufficient to requite all His endevours So good night all You that know Lovers woe 17. A Woman I A Woman is a wanton thing And only serves to dandle A bow that bends without a string A knife without a handle For if thereon your hand you put It 's ten to one but you are cut II. A woman is a lighted taper She burneth as she sings Lovers like flies while there they vapour They scorch away their wings Then down they fall into her pit And there they drown both joy and wit III. A
woman for her constancy I 'le worship and adore For she is bad and she will be The same for evermore Or if she change from doing ill Be sure 't is done against her will IV. A woman is a mysterie The learned scan Whose bottom ne're could fathom'd be By all the art of man And she is one that can adorn Her husbands forehead with a horn V. A woman 's a Theorbo Lute That 's alwaies set in tune And if you put your pen unto 't From mid-night untill noon Yet shee 'l be loath to let you go Because she loves the musick so VI A woman is a Hartichoak Whose leaves are only good Her pleasant outside doth provoak Our veins and vernall bloud But if you touch her to the core It 's ten to one you finde a wh re 18. Disdain IS this Loves court of Conscience to infer So many darts on one poor sufferer No triple Gerion or fierce Hydra found So many heads so many stings to wound The Trojan Prince unfortunate There flies Not half so many beamlings from the eyes Of well-stor'd Argus as my wanton foe Hath unlaborious projects to orethrow O you unworthy Nature for your tricks I 'me bound to curse you you that love to mix A pride with beauty you that interlace A curst condition with a comly face That make such active engines to surprise Your friends and make them suffer sacrifice You that are fair without but all within Foul with ambition that contains a gin First ticing in idolatry to erre And then to prize on the Idolater When first this Circe had my senses charm'd I mounted Cap a pee most stoutly arm'd T' oppose the adversary and orethrow His wanton fury but he brings his bow Unto her hand and bids her to be sure She shoot at such a heart and stand secure Then in a fury she began to throw Her witchcrafts to increase my former woe A scornful smile upon me then she threw And seconds it with a quick pish or two So spritefully upon me she did fall You 'd think her body were a soul and all More subtle was she to inlarge my grief Then Cacus or Prometheus that brave thief To gain coelestial fire Shee increases Her doubled blushes and sets out her tresses Makes every burnisht hair upon her browes A mortall shaft to slay me but allowes No thought of love no fancy nor desire T' allay the fervour and asswage the fire Her beauty kindled But disdaining high Displayes a brighter banner to my eye As who should say Thou fondling if I can I 'le triumph in thy misery poor man But hang 't I care not I will act a part With resolution since I finde my heart The more it hovers and with care implores The more it 's wounded with disdainfull sores I 'le call my fancy home and bid her rest Within the private Cottage of my brest And I will be its nurse and care no more For beauty then she car'd for me before 19. Commendation I. MY Mistresse is fair my Mistresse is rare Her beauty 's a matchlesse treasure In every part for nature and art Fair Venus her self doth measure And upon my soul she has not the mole That on dame Venus cheek did grow Her beauty no blot doth know II. Fair Helen of Greece that Amorous piece That pleasant and notable sinner Although such a floud of rational bloud Was spilt by her rivals to win her Yet could she not be so lovely as she Whom fortune hath elected forth To conquer me by her worth III. So neatly she moves so swiftly she loves Her glance is enough to ravish Her sanctifi'd eye shines moderately 'T is neither too close nor lavish Her smile if she please can cure each disease Where profound Empericks may fail Her courtesie can prevail IV. An armfull of blisse so sacred as this Jove never composed nor courted With angels so bright and full of delight The poetick pens never sported Don Quixot would be in combate with me Did his quick knowledge but discry My fancy had flown so high V. Come then my fair Gem and value not them That can not indure to be quiet In mine armes be thou hurl'd while the troublesome world makes war and rebellion its diet And then my desire shall ramble no higher My heart from care I will set free Thy love is enough for me 20. A Letter sent into the Countrey Friend I Give an answer as it is my duty Because ye wrote to know of Grizels beauty O Monstrous Beauty I to thee petition Thou art more wondrous then an Apparition More bright then scoured Andirons and more clear Then new Stepony and as brown as Beer Thou art as blew as starch in every vein Enough to make a Monkey break his chain Her hair wherein my tangled heart doth lie Shines far more bright then whip cord to mine eye Her breath 's a Champion for it 's mighty strong Her eye-brow hair is nigh three inches long Her eyes I vow I almost had forgot um Are broader then a sawcer at the bottom Her nose that Gem which nature did allow Stands jetting like the coulter of a plow Thy lips alas too light a word to show Their heavy worth like dri'd bull-pizles grow Both round and riv'led furrow'd deep together As blew as Azure and as tough as leather But shall I speak a word unto her mouth It goes from pole to pole from north to south Incompassing a cell that 's full as deep As th' Devils arse of Peak where they that peep For bottom lose their labour and are fain To come away repenting back again Her teeth those bead-rowes that so much have grac't her Are not of Ivoury not of Alabaster Hast thou ere seen a mouse-trap that is made With steel indented art thou not afraid To hear the dreadfull rapture such they be But are not set with such equality Park pales they do resemble Help O heaven I My fainting Muse when theams are so uneven Help good Apollo raise me ten notes higher â—end down Vrania or do thou inspire Me with the dregs of Poetry and sense Let me not write with vulgar eloquence On pieces so imperfect where doth lie In every wrinkled fold some mystery Oh the majestick visard of her chin That bears her chops away through thick and thin â—obtail'd thou art contexâ—d like a knot Th' art just like something but I know not what Thy cheeks fall back as though for some ill cause Thou went'st to hide them safe between thy Jawes Thy neck shall not be placed in our rime We 'l keep the neck-verse till another time But Oh thy back thy shoulders and thy wast Thy bouncing buttocks and thy thighes ore-cast With Canopies of Canvase and of Sarge â—'le not speak much of them they are too large For ten-feet verses But I 've seen them stand Like great Colossus in another land Her inner part 's so holy that I dare Not own so proud a thought as t' enter
there Lest I blaspheme the Idol and become For that offence barr'd from Elizium Thus I in part have told you what I know Of things above and things that are below And for what 's wanting I must needs refer Unto the next return o' th Carrier 21. The invitation to walk CLarena Come and let 's repair Into the fields to take the air And in what place so ere we come Thy presence makes Elizium Let rurall swains adore thy fame And Courtiers comment on thy name And let the world thy beauty see That Poets may eternize thee Step out with me to yonder bower And there we 'l pluck the fairest flower And when w' have done we 'l view and see Which is the fairest it or thee See'st thou those blossom'd trees that shine With common glory not with thine With thine that did receive a glose Beyond the lustre of a rose From heavens bounty how they wait To wanton in their happy fate Of thy sweet presence where in passion Of love and joy and emulation They may conspire themselves and see Their own despis'd deformity â—nvade Priapus see his leeks And set thy lustre on his cheeks And he no sooner will espie The heavenly tulip of thine eye But in a passion he will run 〈…〉 As Owles avoid the light of sun â—nto a corner and will powr â—own tears more lavish then a show'r To see himself exceeded so And must become a theam below â—nothers worth Me thinks I see The bushes becken unto thee The dewy morn has shed a tear â—ecause she wants thy presence there Then prethee let 's go to the plain Or else let 's go to bed again 22. A Mole on Celia's Cheek I. WHat 's that fair Celia doth presume To th' mansion of that heavenly room Thy cheek Doth beauty bud or bloom II. Or else did Nature place it there â—n emulation and for fear Thou shouldst above her self appear III. And so she thought as well she might She were not th' author of so bright A Gem as on thy cheeks did light IV. Or were it by a power divine That so that lively face of thine Might not without a blemish shine V. Nor might appear beyond the Moon Which is for earth too high a boon For nothing's perfect that's sublune VI And so each Idolizing eye That in so bright a Zone doth lie Should take thee for a Deity VII On this account 't might haply be For goddesses do strive we see In beauty for priority VIII Yet how so ere it came I wot It serves her for a beauty spot And to her splendor is no blot IX Venus had one or else I dare Be so audacious as to swear Sh 'had nere been counted half so fair X. 'T is poverty that plenty prizes The worth of health by sicknesse rises And beautie 's better'd by disguises XI White with black spots doth whiter show And she no woman is I trow That has not one 'bove or below 23. The Bitter-Sweeting I. SAw you Aurora in her morning dresse Ere sable clouds approach Her burnisht tresses to oppresse And vail her crimson Coach So fair and fairer Claria shines Whose heavenly glance injoynes All eyes that view her To praise her and persue her II. Ah! but thou serpent of infernall breed Ambition that do'st rest With restlesse actions and dost feed Within so fair a breast Thou spoyl'st the glory of this star With thy deforming scar Th' hast blurr'd her rayes Like spotted Cynthia's III. Has never fame created in thine ears Pallas her pregnant wit Tush tush my Claria's fancy rears More lively works then it Whence Poets must their phrases draw And Satyrs stand in aw And dare not louer Against so strange a power IV. Ah! but thou seed of pestilential race Incontinency sprung From Pluto's Cave or some such place My Claria thou dost wrong Poysnest the prudence of her brain With infamy and stain And gainest more Hate then wit gain'd love before V. And now my Claria for so clear a beauty And wit so pure and free I must imbrace it as my duty To love and honour thee Yet from those vices that arise I 've learned to despise A thing that 's foul With all with all my soul 24. The Cheat I. ONce I did love and loved true Ah! but it prov'd in vain Claria I fell in love with you You vow'd to love and more you said Your love should be divine What prank soever fortune plaid Yet still you would be mine II. This re-inforc't my new born zeal And did ingage me more Loves charming blisses to reveal Then ere I durst before I fetcht expressions lovers use To court their Ladies by From Helicon and every Muse Claria did deifie III. With Indian pearl and gifts the best Of nature and of art I fed this love and with the rest I gave my wounded heart And then I thought thou hadst been mine No reason urg'd my doubt My fate was rich my joyes divine With blessings wall'd about IV. Because she did my presents take And own me as her own I little thought she would forsake him she had pitcht upon I thriv'd in Confidence and said Fortune had chose for me The prettiest and the wittiest maid That ever eyes did see V. But when I had conceived so Then I was most deceiv'd Oh little little did I know Of thee I was bereav'd Coelestial beauty How couldst thou Commit so foul a fact As to infringe a sacred vow With ceremony backt VI Unconstant fate unconstant love Unconstant Lady too I 'le scorn you all and will remove My love away from you And since unblemisht love must be rewarded in such sort Henceforth I 'le fix my love on thee But for an hours sport 25. The Catch I. COme to the brim boy fill our bouls 'T is wine new vamps our heart And sets a glosse upon our souls Beyond the power of Art II. 'T is wine that drowns corrupting woes And Fortunes fury quenches The poor man whilest in sack he flowes He feels no want but Wenches 26. The Weather-cock I. Z'Life I reach my sword for in my rage In thousand bits I 'le slash The Gnathoâ—s that defile our age And break their bones to mash Those that will turn Ere they will burn And slink at every slash II. Those that their Prince and Peers adore For interest of their own Those when their fortunes are blown ore Will vanish and are gone And basely will Like swallowes still Seek out the warmest Zone III. Those that have learned to divide Their hearts and tongues in two That will abet on either side Serve both the false and true And you that can Praise every man That keeps a bribe for you VI If Caesar daign to smile on such No paradise so sweet But if he frowns and frowneth much Their fortune 's under feet And then their bliss And pleasure is Lapt in a winding sheet V. If Caesar prayes to Mahomet Then thou wilt be a Turk Or if Popes pardons he will get
thou into the myrtle grove And there shoot down some pretty dove II. For I am flush Big-belli'd with desire to prove The pain of love And feel the Sun-shine of a blush Yet will I not ingage in heart Unlesse the object have desert III. Go then and seek Some glorious brow some sacred eye From whence doth flie Rayes all divine some rosie cheek Wherein such lively grace is carv'd As may recall a spirit starv'd IV. Shoot such a heart As innocency doth controul Pierce such a soul That loves in love and not in art Such if she findes my love divine Melts all her pleasures into mine V. Bring not the coy That starts and kicks at every touch There 's grace too much She has more zeal then honesty Bring not the proud deformed witches That missing rocks fall down in ditches VI Bring not the sad That seem to thaw the stones with tears Wherein appears Some Crocodilish bloud they had Nor shoot thou down a fawning she Lest with her smiles she ruin me VII But bring a girl Whose mirth is of a heavenly dresse Whose wantonnesse Is not a pick-lock but a pearl That will no common trader be Though sh ' has a good commodity 67. The evil Temper ALwaies sighing alwaies pining Alwaies out of frame Alwaies puling alwaies whining Evermore the same Alwaies fill'd with lamentation Love is not feasted so Continual tears continuall passion Is but continual woe I hold her temper in derision Since she is guided thus Depart from me with expedition And hug Heraclitus If ere I dally with a lover I 'le have a pleasant she That with a chearful smile blowes over The proudest injury 'T is vain to mourn for sliding blisse That is already gone And full as vain as vain it is With tears to think upon Approaching woes hereby they creep Up to more ample sums It's time enough for thee to weep For mischief when it comes And since thy weeping will not aid Thee of the smallest thrall When ere thy sorrowes thee invade Thou need'st not weep at all Remember this and then repent And sweetly thou shalt finde The peacefull Phoenix of content Will build within thy minde And then I could my soul allow To thee my dearest dear But when I see a stormy brow I think the Devil 's there EPIGRAMS 1. Humility I' Th' petty Fourm this Lady sits Learns innocency more then wits Reads duty-lectures to her sons Bid her but go and straight she rune Poor she at all times and all places Waits servant-like upon the Graces She owns her self most vile and base Yet her descent 's the Royall race 2. The Misers musick CHink chink the coin cryes and the musick pleases It 's like the dainty food that breeds diseases 'T is sweet and bitter like the Siren charms Lulls us to love first then leaves us in harms 3. The Blush SEest thou the tincture in her face It is the servant to her grace To intimate to thee there 's nought That 's vicious harbour'd in her thought And doth from Cyprian boyes exempt her Dazling the foul lascivious tempter 4. A Tayler THere was a Taylor once a dagger wore He wore it once and never wore it more He would have drawn and run it at my Bitch I but his heart would not go thorough stitch 5. To Nell FOnd fickle frantick fancy full of folly Thy mirth is turned into melancholly Thou swear'st thou wilt be wiser and wilt hate Thy former vices but it is too late The Steed is stoln and now thou shut'st the dore But lo thou shouldst have lockt it heretofore 6. On Jack JAck calls me rogue My friend to me affords This sage advice I pray lay hold on 's words Pish pish said I 't is better ten to one To hold his ears and let his words alone Then by and by as it did well appear I loos'd his words and lug'd him by the ear 7. A Sigh SIghing she smil'd and smiling sigh't She smil'd to see the thing she lik't And sigh't because she could not get It fast into her cabbinet Had but her smiles a power as well To draw as do her sighs repell She might be mistresse of the pray But sighing she blowes all away 8. Love THey say that love is alwaies blinde I think upon my soul It is not true because I finde He alwaies hits the hole 9. Sim. SIm sayes he 's highly blest because he looks Upon abundance of religious Books 'T is true he does so yet he keeps his sin He looks upon them but nere looks within 10. Lucia SWeet Mistresse Lucia is a pretty thing A Concubine that 's worthy of a King She is so full of beauty and so fine You 'd think she were a spirit all divine I 'd swear the same too and to th' world I 'd tel 't But that in truth I know she may be felt 11. A Token 'T Is not of custome that my Present comes Nor yet with flattering to enhaunce the sums Of drossie lucre Neither doth it move On legs as though it came to buy your love For that were too ignoble to prevail Your love 's a thing not to be set at sale But hence it cometh with supposed voyce To speak for him whose speech is somewhat nice Whose tim'rous spirit hardly dares to shew The tenure of that love I bear to you Hence then accept it only as a sign Of his affection who in heart is thine 12. A lock of Hair WHy should we do it upon such things as these What is it they afford us that can please A love-sick passion or asswage the pain Of a disorder'd and distempered brain Has it a priviledge that 's more then these Only to say it is our Mistresses Poor feeble prize no author of content What honour rises from an excrement I but I finde a higher exposition An Allegory which on no condition May be omitted for the good of either It is a lock that locks two hearts together 13. Loves gain LOve is a stock of money and it 's he That loves that puts it out to usury And 't is the smile of Mistresses in jest And wanton dalliance makes the interest But wo is me infatuate with pain I finde my stock begets me little gain For whereas others backney-like get store Mine brings me nil per centum and no more 14. Torio TOorio's in love and greatly doth rejoyce 'Cause he has lighted on so brave a choice Yet with my curious eye I can discover In her no beauty that may tice a lover But I imagine why my Torio brags She 's precious not for beauty but for bags 15. Phorcus PHorcus one morning and that 's rare Upon his bent knees went to prayer Pray'd for remission of his sins And that same morning broke his shins A sad mischance it was therefore He vowes to God he 'l pray no more 16. To the Executioner JErvis the Hangman when to him I quaffe He cries Your servant sir it makes me laugh But yet infaith I plainly tell thee Jervis I love thee well but I abhor thy service 17. Thraso IN canting vessels I have ever found The empty Hogshead yeelds the greatest sound And hence it followes that thy lofty strains Are but the symptomes of thy empty brains 18. Gnatho GNatho whose Muse is not so clear as common Pins his Encomion on a Gentlewoman He at the head begins and thence doth greet Each member till he comes unto the feet Only the neck he scapes I fain would know Why on that part no verse he will bestow I smell the plot 't is worthy of your laughter He keeps the Neck-verse for himself hereafter 19. Nell NEll's very sick and to the Cooks will go Sure sicknesse cannot be repelled so He fills the board with custard and with pie And bids her eat but she cries No not I. She longs for rolls and though it be a sin She will have none but the cooks rolling-pin 20. Pigmalion WHy does Pigmalion on his picture doat And to the worship of the same devote His purest thought Pigmalion dost thou see More value in thy image then in thee That thou shouldst buckle and incline thy wit To leave thy self and fall in love with it Alas Pigmalion thou art but an Ape That for the substance dost adore the shape 21. Momus MOmus perhaps thou 't say I am unkinde Because I do not write to thee my minde I tell thee Momus thou art grown so nought That I cannot allow thee one good thought Yet this my custome shall for ever be When ere I want a fool I 'le send for thee The Conclusion Or the Fornicator's farewell on his Death-bed I. COme you fair eyes that with inflamed lust I once beheld See you my judgement sad and just For now alas I am compel'd To hang my head as 't were half dead Ah me to th' grave I must II. And there my filthy carkasse must remain Till the loud trump Ring heaven-knells throughout my brain Giving new life to my dead lump And re-inspires with active fires My empty pores again III. Then weep one tear or two before I die And must be gone You can attest as well as I What cruell wrong to me y' have done And now y' have kend my fatall end Seek you the same to shun FINIS