Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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ID |
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Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A53759
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Eikōn vasilikē, or, An image royal, &c. March 25.
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Oxinden, Henry, 1609-1670.
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1660
(1660)
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Wing O840A; ESTC R6350
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10,159
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32
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〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 OR AN IMAGE ROYAL c. March 25. Printed in the Year 1660. To his Honored and most Faithful Friend HENRY OXINDEN Esq Upon his most Incomparable EPITHALAMIUM UNcelebrated NUPTIALS by thee Made coy Diana vow Virginity Thy lines I fear such powerful charms will prove As to make all the Muses fall in love And strive who first shall quit Pemassus hill To Kiss to Court and to Espouse thy Quill Thy heart-enamouring strains did they but see The Nunneries would all unpeopl'd be Despising Cloysters Abbesses would throng About thee for to beg a Marriage Song Your Wedding Garments well become the Bride And SUITE her for a BAZILEAN side Who grieve to see the Tapors loose their light Because jour Muse must then bid them good night Beauty will most ingeniously confess You only Cloath her in her pleasing Dress On my highly honored Friend the Author of the EPITHALAMIUM IN this dear Pair we see two married Hearts And in your Book the Marriage of the Arts Your Lines are all Heroick so are they Those wear the Rosemary and you the Bay Prose first conjoyn'd them both till their last breath But in your Verse they 'r wedded after death Th. Williams To his much respected Friend HENRY OXINDEN in behalf of his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 As also To the READER concerning the same HEnry methinks thou do'st most sweetly sing O how thy Muse makes Musick for a King Even the very best of Kings the Spheres May not sound sweeter in his Sacred Ears Then thy exalted Monarchy above All Governments below the Throne of Jove And ye sweet Basil and fair Dorothy Extolled higher then sublimity How can you chuse but much delight to hear Your worth 's so sweetly tuned to your ear By him whom Malice at its heighth can't say Hath used been unto the least foul play But hates what 's false and loveth what is true And Reader if you him I know loves you Another by the same to the same HEnry I do confess I love thee well Yet in a friendly manner I le thee tell That though in reading of thy lines no small Pleasure I take and love to view them all Over and ever that nor Monarchie Nor Basil nor his matchless Dorothie Thou hast set out to their worths 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 no Yet I le excuse thee who can do it so And Reader make thou much of what thou hast In these his lines he says they are his last They are hit last and now gives way to thee T' excel that which cannot be done by me One more to the same by the same 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 ô heavenly sight More joyous then the Fountain of the Light It is so well by Henry here display'd As sure he had all the Nine Muses ayd Yea a far greater now he is set down To rest I wish him at the last Heav'ns Crown Now Reader with me joyn and let us raise His same on earth and crown his head with Bays That he a Poet Laureate may be And consecrated to Eternitie To the Reader By the Author REader here is exposed thine eye How by Heaven authoriz'd Monarchie Excels not only rude Democratie But also choicest Aristocratie Here also thou maist see if thou canst see A gift Divine ev'n Basil Dorothie If thou beest wise what ere thou thinkst of me Do not at least despise Divinity But if thou thinkst the gift is far more high Then I have set it out true so do I And therefore pray thee my defects supply By thy perfections or me not decry For my part I ingeniously confess Here 's worth as to its hight I can't express TO MOMUS MOmus I charge thee venome spit thou none ' Gainst Basil Dorothy conjoyn'd in one Kings are the gift of God nay Kings are Gods Thou hast a pestilent Tongue but they have Rods. LIB I. IT 's said the Heir of Broom that noble Squire Whose gallant heart being touched with Loves fire Hath joyned hands with one whose vertues are Such as his own and both beyond compare Chast Erato thou noble Muse thou which Do'st all thy lovers with thy help enrich Help me thy servant that I may display Sights able to turn night into the day Rare Beauties such as soon as Phebus he Is under Earth makes hast again to see And who needs wonder that he doth so sith Their radiant eyes add lustre to his light Reader no figures here expect what 's true Is onely now exposed to thy view Hyperboles there is no need of here Where eyes more beautiful then Sol appear Eyes purely sining in Heavenly faces And orbed with the Mirror of all Graces O who is he that 's mortal can express Such Beauties as the Angels may confess A task sufficient for their skill divine Highly transcendent unto all that 's mine Could I now mount above Heav'ns highest sphere And pluck a Quill from Cherubims are there And be enspired with their knowledge then I might their worth describe with such a Pen But sith to me a mortal it 's deny'd By Angels in this case to be supply'd With help adequate unto my desires Little I 'll say how ere I do require Thy patience Reader and forgiveness too In all that herein I shall say or do And you whose Beauties and whose royal worth I now am ayming partly to set forth I must your pardons crave for coming short Of what I should if that I could report I mean your Excellencies which surmount The numerous Sands or Stars in my account Those Excellencies which do in you shine Unmixt with Earth and purely all divine And sith man first was made I will begin To speak of thee sweet Basil near of kin To him that made thee being witness Paul The ver Off-spring of him that governs all Thy name imports a King thy Princely face Speaks thee to be a lover of his race Let Dunghill fancies court the multitude Of faith and spirits barbarous base and rude And like the Heathen many Gods adore Thou worship'st one in truth there is no more No more then one God and one King there is Can crown the Nations with a Royal bliss Hence 't is Queen Nature constantly Graves in brave hearts the rule of Royalty No matter 't is which way the vulgar go Alas poor Souls they know not what they do What Chaff's more light what Sea to swell more apt Then they who when the weathers calm are rape Ev'n up t'Heav'n in fancy and in hope When foul a sunder cut the Cable Rope Before the Ship 's in danger Lord defend All thine from those who thus to ruine tend What Tygre is more fierce what savage Bear More cruel then those head-strong Block-heads are Yet the quick sliding Sand is setled more Then they O how soon turned o'r and o're Euripus thou so often we do know As they do change doest not ebb and flow Thou Proteus and thou Luna us'd to vary Art far more constant then