A fairer portraicture earth never saw In Lesbiam Epig. 39. Lesbia why dost thou swear That thou wast born that year When Brutus was made Consull t is a lye Thy Mother brought thee forth her womb When Numa reigned first in Rome And so again thou dost the truth deny For thy long dated ages seem to say Thou wast produced from Prometheus clay Ad Philerotem Epig. 43. Thy seaventh wife now lyes buried in the field Thy ground more gain than any mans doth yield Ad Julium Martialem Epig. 47. Most pleasant Martial these are they That make the happyer life and day Means not sweat for but resign'd Fire without end fields still in kinde No strife no office inward peace Free strength a body sans disease A prudent plainesse equal friends Cheap Cates not scraped from the world's ends A night not drown'd but free from care Sheets never sad and yet chast are Sleep that makes short the shades of night Art such thou would'st be if there might A choice be offer'd nor dost fear Nor wish thy last dayes exit here Epitaphium nobilis Matronae Epig. 63. Behold these little Marble stones Which veile not to those mighty ones Of Caesar nor the Carian pride Terentus twice my life hath try'd And t was sincere to my last end Five Boyes great Juno did me sen d And just as many Girles as those Whose hands my dying eyes did close And this rare glory happ'ned more to mee One prick was privy to my chastitie Epitaphium vetulae Epig. 67. Here Pyrrha's Daughter Nestor's Mother in Law Whom youthful Noibe in gray hairs saw Whom old Laertes did his Beldame name Great Priam's Nurse Thyestes wive's grandam Surviver to all nine lived Dawes are gone Old â—lotia with her bald Melanthion Lyes itching here at last under this stone De Phillide Epig. 81. Two men betimes came Phillida to swive And strove which of them first the feat should doe She promised both to both her self to give Did it one stole her gown th' other her shooe Ad Caecilianum Epig. 84. Dost wonder Afer cannot sleep dost see What a sweet faced companion hath hee In Ligellam Epig. 90. Why dost thou reach thy Merkin now half dust Why dost provoke the ashes of thy lust Girles such lasciviousnesse doth best beseem For thou art pass'd old woman in esteem That trick Ligella suites not credit mee With Hecuba but young Andromache Thou err'st if this a C thou dar'st to call To which no Prick doth now belong at all If thou cann'st blush Ligella be afear'd To pull a deceas'd Lyon by the beard De Numa Epig. 97. While they the Funeral charge prepare Which in the paper piles placed are And Numa's weeping wife now buyes Sweet perfumes for his Obsequies His Grave and Beere being ready made And one to wash his body dead And me left Heire by his own Pen Pox on him he grew well agen Lib. 11. Ad Lectores Epig. 2. SAd looks and rigid Cato's stricter brow And course Fabricius Daughter from the plough Disguised pride manners by rule put on And what we are not in the dark begon My verses Iô Saturnalia cry And Nerva under thee 't is liberty De suis Libellis Epig. 4. My lines are not alone delighted here Nor doe I spend them on the idle eare But by the sowre Centurion they are lost Under his ensignes in the Getick frost And Brittain's said my verse to sing But what Can thence accrew my purse ne're hears of that What never dying Papers could I write And glorious wars in a rich strain Indite Should Heaven Augustus once again revive And Rome to me a sweet Maecenas give Ad Romam Epig. 7. In Sythe-crown'd Saturn's Feasts wherein The box of Dice doth reign as King All-cover'd Rome thou dost permit Me now to sport my fluent wit So I suppose for thou did'st smile Thence we are not forbid the while Ye pallid cares far hence begon I 'le speak what ere I think upon Sans any studied delay So fill me out three cups my Boy Such as Pithagoras did give To Nero when he here did live But Dindymus fill faster too For sober I can nothing doe When I am drunck up to the height Full fifteen Poets seize me streight Now give me kisses such as were Catullus his and if they are So numerous as his are said to bee I will Catullus Sparrow give to thee Epitaphium Paridis Epig. 14. Thou that beat'st the Flaminian way Passe not this Noble Tombe but stay Here Rome's delight and Nile's salt treasure Art Graces Sport and sweetest Pleasure The grief and glory of the Stage And all the Cupids of the Age And all the Venusses lye here Interr'd in Paris Sepulcher De Libro suo Epig. 16. I have such papers that grim Cato's wife May read and strictest Sabines in their life I will this Book should laugh throughout and jest And be more wicked than are all the rest And sweat with wine and with rich unguents flow And sport with Boyes and with the wenches too Nor by Periphrasis describe that thing That common Parent whence we all doe spring Which Sacred Numa once a Prick did call Yet still suppose these verses Saturnal O my Apollinaris this my book Has no dissembled manners no feign'd look Ad Lupum Epig. 19. Lupus thou gavest a Farm in Rome to mee A larger through my loop-hole I can see But canst thou this a Living call or prove Which one poor sprig of Rue shades like a Grove Which one sly Grashopper's wing hides all ore And which an Ant can in a day devoure Which with a Rose-leaf may be crown'd In which a larger herb cannot be found Than a small Pepper-blade that 's newly sprung In which a Cucumer can't lye along Nor Serpent safely dwell unlesse half seen The Garden scarce a Cancker-worm can dine The wood consumed it starves a single Moth A Mole 's my laborer and Plough-man both A Mushroom cannot blow in 't nor a Rush Smile nor sweet Violets their heads forth push A Mouse layes wast the bounds by the Farmer more Is fear'd than was the Caladoniaâ— Bore The Herbage in a Swallow's foot at best Is carryed at a burden to her Nest Nor can Priapus when hee 's but half man'd Without a prick or sickle in it stand The gathered Crop will scarce a Snails house fill The Vintage may be housed in a Nut-shell Lupus thou err'dst but in a single letter For when thou gavest mee this thou hadst done better To have invited mee to dine with thee In Gallam Epig. 20. Galla dost ask why thee I will not take In marriage bonds to joyn with mee Thou art too eloquent I see My Prick doth oft a Solaecisme make In Paediconem masturbantem Epig. 23. Cause thou dost kisse thy Boyes soft lips with thy Rough chin and with strip'd Ganimede dost lye Who does deny thee this t is well At least Frig not thy self with thy lascivious fist This in light toyes more than
fry Capring upon the deep to give supply To every pretty winding brook which now With tatling springs and living plenty flow Thus Nature peep'd out in her morning dresse Though not arrived to a full readinesse And now the sixth day of God's labour dawnes Whenas the blowing meads and tufted lawns Are stock'd with lowing beasts of every kinde The bleating snowy sheep fruitful hinde All creatures of all sorts for game and food Which by the vote of heaven were very good The little world and complement of all Was only absent for whose sake they call The Grand Consilio of the gods to make Man which of earth and heaven should pertake God's Image and the globe's Epitome Must in one structure both united bee Hence then the low and lofty Steward came To head the Collonies and gave things a name Even Adam that prime moving dust that small And great Vicegerent of the God of all Thus the world walk'd abroad rich as the sun And God's work ended where Man's work begun Now that we have survey'd this tumbling Ball How whence made take a short touch on al. And first of that great mercy that prime cause From which all causes spring and take their Laws T was meerly The eternal will Love Of God reveal'd in time that did him move To raise an universe of beauty where Was neither forme nor mediate matter there And thence he fram'd not man first as the summ And supream piece of all that was to come But brought him to a Furnish'd World compleat In all proportions bad him take and eate Subdue and have dominion raign command And supervize the wonders of his hand The only homage he sought on his part Was but the service of an upright heart A pure obedience and a station in That innocency which yet had known no sin But why in just six dayes God and no more Compleated up this building and this store May some men ask Was it a type of the Fix'd Crisis of the world's Catastrophe Which the old Rabbins of the Jews suppose After six thousand years shall have its close When all flesh shall an endless Sabbath keep While sin and time death are lull'd a sleep I dare not fathom these deep misteries Conceal'd even from the very Angells eyes As the beginning of all things hid lay In the Almighty bosom where no ray Could pry into its purpose So we now May ghâ—ess the end as undiscover'd how Or when lies lapp'd up in th' obscure decree And secret cabinet of the dietie This only we dare say we know as light Began so fire shall be the world 's good night Thus having through this glorious week's work prest Where God left labour I presume to rest John chap. 18. ver 36. My Kingdom is not of this World TRue blessed Saviour true thy Kingdom 's not Of this world For we cannot finde a spot Of thy Crown Land where Geometrie may stay Her reeling compass to move any way In demonstration of that circling Round That may define th' inclosure Holy ground But since thy Church grew Stately fell down The lands are all confiscate from the Crown Conntrey freez Elders have thy Flesh hooks bin To shrive the Levites Pot and all within And never conscious of thy pious rule Leave poor Elias to th' charity of the foul Or like the Indian Astomi to smell His way to life or live by miracle Thus Sion's wasted and thy Prophets slain And Godlinesse hath proov'd the only Gain Math. chap. 11 ver 28. Come unto me all yee that labour and are heavy laden c. MOst great and glorious God! how sweet how free Is thy kinde invitation but ay mee The clogs of sin So rein me in And black shame mix'd with guilt restrains my will From all designes but doing ill So that I tremble to approach thy throne And tread the Courts of the most Holy One But yet thy Call's so powerfully good So pressing that 't is death if once withstood Nor is it less To tempt thy Holiness In this extream this streight what shall I doe I 'de come but bee accepted too But ô my loud-tongu'd sins so fill the ayre They 'le bar up heaven against my cry prayer Yet wherfore should I doubt 'T is not the call Of Cherubims or ought Angelical T is he t is hee That in that extasie Of fear to sincking Peter reach'd his hand And snatch'd him from the grave to land Jehovah he that tryes the reines and sees Our wounds and moanes our deep infirmities Shall I then with poor Adam strive to hide My nakedness with leavs Or slip a side O no he spyes my way By night as by noon day Darkness cannot exclude him nor the shade Of Hell from what his hands have made He knows our thoughts eveÌ„ long before they were And when those lips bid come can there be fear But ô 't is said hee 's a Consuming fire But ô 't is sure he now layes by his ire He thunders out With trumpets shout No Judgment from mount Sinai But a still Soft voice of love and free good will He that appear'd then in a warlike dress Seeks now the stray sheep in the Wilderness Put off thy terrors then Great God and I Shall humbly prostrate at thy foot-stool lye And there bemoan With many a groan And bitter tear my sinful sins to thee To thee alone canst pardon mee O shut not up thy mercy in disdain Nor yet remember my old sins again Impute not my youth's guilt unto my charge But thou that offer'st Rest set me at large Even from this death And hell beneath That gapes with open jaws to swallow all That on thee doe neglect to call And hardned in their sins thy spirit grieve By a contempt and wilful hate to live But ere thou coÌ„m'st bless'd God to pass me by First hide me from thy sin-abhorring eye That I may stand Like Moses cover'd with thy hand Close in the cilft of Christ's wounds in the dress And garment of his Righteousnesse And on me through his satisfaction look That on his score my sad transgressions took Receive me then but with that kinde regret The good old man his prodigal childe met Who as 't appears Devided betwixt joy and tears Ran and embrac'd kiss'd his drooping Son In all points now undone But that rich treasure of a Father's love Which nere could be exhausted nor remove Such bowels of compassion Lord put on Such pregnant yernings of affection Then hear my cry And heal my malady Though I have sinn'd yet Christ hath satisfied O Judg not for 't is he that dyed But hear the voice of his still streaming gore Which calls to thee for mercy more more Prevent not then thy Angels joy in mee To see a sinner reconcil'd to thee Nor let thy love So barren prove Or loose its end for which thou sent'st it here Even my salvation now so neer What pleasure in my bloud Lord caÌ„ there
such of thine own De eodem Epig. 29. No Slave of a Plebeian House or kind But a Lad worthy his Lord's love to finde Glaucia my Meliar's manumitted Boy Scarce capable his gifts yet to enjoy This boon with life and form he did partake None look'd more lovely none more sweetly spake ' Things too much doted on live short and such Thouwouldst love long let them not please too much In Paetum Epig. 30. If thou hadst sent mee presentlie Six sesterties when first to mee Thou saydst my Paetus take I give I de ow'd there ten score as I live But now to doe 't with this delay When seaven or nine months slipd away Wouldst have me tell thee what I think Paetus th' hast clearly lost thy chinck De Morte Othonis Epig. 32. Whiles yet Bellona doubts the warlike doom And softer Otho might have overcome He stops the costly charge of blood in War And by his sword fals his own murderer He liv'd a Cato more than Caesar too Yet dying how like Otho he did doe Ad Diadumenum Epig. 34. Seale me squeez'd kisses Diadumene How many count the Billows of the Sea Or spread Cockles on th' Aegaean shore Or wandring Bees in the Cecropian store Or th' hands and voices in the Theatre When Rome salutes her suddain Emperor I slight how many courted Lesbia gave Catullus he that numbers few would have In Carinum Epig. 37. Medall so fine Short breech'd Carine No vain superfluous reliques hast Yet itchest from the head to th' wast O wretch what pain Dost thou sustain I'have no place for 't Yet love the sport In Lygdum Lectoriam Epig. 45. Y'have playd enough lascivious cronies wed No lust is lawfull but in marriage bed Is this love chast Lygdus and Lectore joyn Shee 'le prove a worse wife than a Concubine In Pomponiam Epig. 48. Cause the long robe applaudes thine eloquence T is not thy self thy supper strikes the sence De Thelesino Epig. 50 Whiles Thelesine embraced his chast friends stil His gown was short and thred-bare cold and mean But since he serv'd foul Gamesters and obscaene Now he buyes Fields Plate Tables at his will Wouldst thou grow rich Bithinicus live vain Pure kisses will yield none or little gain Ad Luperlum Epig. 51. Cause thou dost feast so often without mee Luperlus I have found a plague for thee Though thou dost importune and send and call I 'le shew a seeming anger over all And when thou sayst what wilt thou doe in summ What will I doe I am resolv'd to come Epitaphium Pantâ—gathi Epig. 52. Here lyes interrd cropt in his youthful years Pantagathus his Masters joy and tears Learnd with a flying touch to trim loose hairs And shave the brisly cheek that roughly stares O earth lye pleasing and light on him stand Thou canst not be more light then was his hand In Phaebum Epig. 57. Phaebus belyes with Oyle his fained haires And ore his scalp a painted border wears Thou needst no Barber to corect thy pate Phaebus a spung would better doe the feat In Invidum Epig. 61. Rome praises loves and sings my merry leaves Me every bosom every hand receives One blushes one growes pale and one disdains One stands amazd one hates me for my pains This was my great desire my wishd increas Now now my verses now my verses please Ad Marianum Epig. 63. Thou knowst thy self entrapd and art aware How coveteous he was that layd the snare And Marian needs must know his second care Yet notwithstanding dost make him thine heir And headily wouldst have him to succeed Thee in thy goods and lands by thy last Deed. T is true he sent rich gifts but layd in wire And can the Fish their murderer desire Or will he Marian truly weep for thee To have true tears reverse thy Legacâ—e De praecone Puâ—llam vendente Epig. 66. Gaellian the Cryer brought a Lass To market of smale fame to pass Such as in Baudy-houses sate Whiles she stood long at a smale rate He to approve her sound and good Drew her near to him as she stood And kissd her three or four times ore But wouldst thou know what fruit these bore Why he that bad six hundred pieces for her Upon this score did utterly abhor her Ad Pannicum de Gellia uxore Epig. 67. Pannicus dost desire to know Why thy Gellia keeps I trow Eunuches only with her still T is thy cunning Gellia's will To have the secret active sport Yet feel no throws nor anguish for 't Ad Martianum Epig. 70. Cotta has livd full sixty years and more And yet my Martian never felt the sore Affliction of a Feaver one short 'bout Thence though unchastly holds his finger out Against Alcontis Dacus Symmachus But if our years were well computed thus And what sharp Feavers have took from us what Languishing grief and sicknesse we are not Less then divided from the happier day We are but Boys in years and yet seem gray He that conceives my Priam's age Or Nestor's to be long on the worlds stage Is much deceived much out for I thee tell To be is not call'd life but to be well De Cilice Fure Epig. 72. Cilix a knave of noted theft Resolv'd to rob a Garden by But there was nought Fabullus left But a huge Marble-dyetie Yet least his empty hand should miss its prey Cilix presumed to steal the god away Ad Lupum Epig. 79. How Sad and rich Beware least fortune catch Thee Lupus then she 'le call thee thanklesse wretch In mortem Rufi Camonii Epig. 85. In th' absence Rufus my sixth Booke is out But thou her Reader she doth sadly doubt Base Capadocia by a fate unjust Gives to thy friends thy bones to thee thy dust Widdowd Bononia bathe friend in tears While that Aemilia thy griefs eccho beares How Pious but how short lived did he fall Five bare Olimpiads he had seen in all Rufus thou that wast wont to bear in minde Out sports and them in memory to finde Accept this sad verse which I send As the sweet incense of thy absent friend De Thaide Epig. 93. Thais smells as ill as doth a Fullers vate That long hath steepd broke in the street of late The tyred Goats not more ranck the breath and breech Of Lyons nor stripd Dogs-skins in a ditch Nor adle egg that putrifying lyes Nor pot of rotten fish that stinking dyes That she may change this plague for some sweet scent Naked and oft she doth the Baths frequent And shines with Oyle lyes in sharp fennell hid Or in bean meale twice or thrice covered When safe by thousand slights her self she thinks When all 's done Thais still all Thais stinks Lib. 7. De reditu Domitiani Epig. 7. NOw sport if ere ye Muses with my vein From the north world the god returnes again December first brings forth the peoples vote T is just we cry He comes with open throat Blest in thy chance from Janus share the day Since
man may See his God and live Here 's extasie of joy enough that when Our sins conspired with ungodly men To crucifie the Lord of life and kill His innocency by our doing ill He yet survives the gall of bitterness Nor was his soul forsaken in distress But having led Captivitie in chains He burst the bonds of death and lives and reigns And this revives our souls there 's yet agen A Monarchy beyond the reach of men Holy Thursday AS when the glorious Sun veil'd and disguis'd As by the shaddowes of the night surpris'd Disrobes his sable dress and reasumes The beauty of its splendor from the Tombes And vaults of darkness mounts the dapled skyes And guilds the heavenly wardrop as he flyes So here the Majesty of God conceal'd Under a mortal mantle unreveal'd Till the predestin'd day of its disclose Sublim'd its earth and in full lustre rose Joy'd with the shouts of Angels and the quire Of Cherubims made happyer to admire Me thinks I hear the arched sphears resound The Paeans of the Saints and give them round The tyres of heaven like claps of thunder rowl'd From pole to pole and doubled as they fould Such a diffusive glory that we see Each Saint triumphant in his victorie But is he gone for ever from our eyes Will he no more return shall we not rise Or must that cloud that closed him from our sight Stand a partition wal between the light Of his eternal day and our dull shades O that 's a horror kills as it invades No There 's a hope yet left a sure record Of mercy undenyable his Word Nay more his faithful Promise I 'le not leave You comfortless And can the Lord deceive See there his hand and seal And if you please Tâ—admit the voyce of Angels to encrease An Infant faith As you have seen him goe So he shall come again Believe it so Rejoyce then ô my soul that as thou art Rescued from death and glorified in part So thy Redeemer lives and that hee 's gone Hence to prepare thy heavenly mansion And when the trembling hearts of them that slew And peirct his pretious body quake to view The terror of his glorious return When time shall be no more the heavens burn Earth crumble into ashes and the dead Wak'd by th' Archangles voice dissepulcred And catchd up in the clouds thy greater bliss Shall meet thy sweet Redeemer with a kiss And with their eyes his glittering court survey In all the garb of that tryumphant day Yet so demean thy self in this his dear And pittied absence as if present here That at his second comming Sans all grudg He may return thy Saviour as thy Judge Whitsunday WHat strange noise strikes mine eare what suddain sound As though the rowling windes were all unbound And met at once by one joynt fury hurld To overturn the hinges of the world This Scaene fore runs some dreadfull Act to come Some greater wonder issuing from the womb Of Providence than what has pass'd our eye Sure there 's no second Son of God to dye Nor summons to the dead once more to rise And scare the bloudy City's Sacrifice Nor does the chearfull Sun dance through the sphears As though he meant to fetch his last carrears Time 's not so near its Exit nor the fall And conflagration of this circled Ball But yet behold a fire most contrary To its own nature posting from on high Kindling a sad suspition cleft in rayes As though design'd to catch all sorts of waies Sure t is no wanton flame such whifling Lights Quench with the night-mark of tempestuous nights Not daring to attempt the daye 's bright eye To judge their non-existent frippery No this descends more stayd reach'd from above ' O 't is the very God of peace and love But how so strange devided can there bee Twelve parts like Tribes couch'd in the dietie That it appears multipartite in th' dress Of Cloven Tongues what tongue can this express Yet though it seems in Sections to appear Most like the soul 'T is wholly every where The Spirit 's omnipresent nor can bee Confin'd to number measure or degree But why in fire and such myrac'lous flame Fix'd on a stay yet not consume the same Are men like Moses bush can bodyes burn Insensible and not to ashes turn The wonder 's great but not so deep as high ' Nature must needs leave work when God stands by Descend on me Great God! but in such fire May not consume but kindle my desire Descend on me in flames but such as move Winged by th' inspiration of the Dove Descend in Cloven Tongues such as dispence No double meanings in a single sense Hence all you wilde pretenders you that blaze Like Meteors lapp'd in zeal and dance the maze Of non-conformity in antique fits Yea even from your selves curss'd Hereticks Light not your frighted censors here no Quaker Frisker Baboon or Antinomian shaker Must fire his brand from hence the Spirit claims No holder-forth that dwells on second aimes But Comes t' reprove the worlds Judaick press Of Sin of Judgment and of Righteousness No strange fanatick spark that gaping flyes And leaves its Audience skared with extasies No Skipper in divinity no Hinter No radled Cardinal no dreaming minter Of words and faces no Quire of the Brisle No squib no squeaker of the puny grisle Approach this glory For the beauteous Sun Admits no maskers till the day be done No Chymical St. Martins pass the Test Till the pure Oare's exild or gone to rest Shine out bright God dispel these smoaky foggs Of schisme and heresie that smears and clogs The chariot of thy Gospell that truth may Break forth in its own glosse and proper ray That the Blue-apron'd Crackers of the times Those wilde-fire Rockets whose ambition climbes To wound the world with broils set all on fire And sink a glorious Church through base desire May dwindle to their bulks and there indite Long small-drink Anthems of the Saints good night While it contents the boyes to nod at last November and my Ld. Mayors day are past A short Ejaculation Vpon that truly worthy Patron of the Law Sr. John Bridgman Kt. and Lord Chief Justice of Chester and the Marshes of Wales deceased SHall all the Tribes of Israel thirty dayes Mourn for the death of Moses and so raise Their doubled cryes to heaven and bemoan The Light of Jacob in a Tomb unknown And Bridgman set obscurely can the Sun Withdraw its radiant splendor at high noon And the whole world not stand amaz'd to see Their glory swallow'd in eternitie Can the bright soul of Justice mount the skyes And we not fear a Deluge from our eyes Such was thy sad departure such thy flight Into the spangled heavens that the night Of a more sad dispaire hath seiz'd our beams And left us nothing but our brackish streams To offer at thy shrine And in those showers We state the day and steep the slow-pac'd hours Hence
let the Law be canoniz'd no better Than a meer corps of words a bare dead letter In thee the life departed In thy dust Lies raked the hand sense of right and just What yet survives or rather what presents It's seeming face cloath'd in thine ornaments 'T is but Elias Mantle though unknown Dropt to work wonder but the Prophet's gon Piae Memoriae Doctiss Reveren dissimique in Christo Patris Johannis Prideaux quam novissimè Wigoriae Episcopi harumque tristissimè lacrymarum Patroni nec nòn defuncti BVsta struant alii lacrymisque altare refundant Quorum tristitiâ fata pianda cadunt Talia praecurant cineres monumenta pusilli Queis melos tumulum fama gemenda petit Hîc neque pyramidum nec inertis monstra colossi Poscuntur subito corruitura die Gloria securi confidentissima Caeli Non vocat haec stellis astra minora suis Sic tuus ascendit currus dignâ—ssime Praesul Terreni miserans futile honoris onus Sed vae Zodiaco nostro vae Phaebe trementi Ortus enim patriae lux tenebraeque fuit In te floruimus tecum decerpimur omnes Et Pater gnati Mollitèr ossa cubent Parva tegaá¹…t tenues aperti funera fletus Tanta ruunt superis damna silenda metu Obsequies On that right Reverend Father in God John Prideaux late Bishop of Worcester deceased IF by the fall of Luminaries wee May safely ghuess the world's Catastrophe The signes are all fulfill'd the Tokens flown That scarce a man has any of his own Only the Jewes conversion some doubt bred But that 's confuted now the Doctor 's dead Great Atlas of Religion since thy fate Proclaims our loss too soon our tears too late Where shall the bleeding Church a Champion To grasp with Heresie Or to maintain Her conflict with the Devil For the ods gain Runs bias'd six to four against the Gods Hell lists amain nay and th' engagement flies With wing'd Zeal through all the Sectaries That should she soundly into question fall We were within a Vote of none at all But can this hap upon a single death Yes For thou wert the treasure of our breath That pious Arch whereon the building stood Which broke the whole's devolv'd into a floud An inundation that ore-bears the banks And bounds of all religion If some stancks Shew their emergent heads Like Setâ—'s famed stone Th' are monuments of thy devotion gone No wonder then the rambling Spirits stray In thee the body fell and slipp'd away Hence ' â—is the Pulpit swells with exhalations Intricate nonsense travel'd from all Nations Notions refined to doubts maxims squeez'd With tedious hick-ups till the sense growes freez'd If ought shall chance to drop we may call good T is thy distinction makes it understood Thy glorious Sun made ours a perfect day Our influence took its being from thy ray Thine was that Gedeon's fleece when all stood dry Pearl'd with caelestial dew showr'd from on high But now thy night is come our shades are spread And living here we move among the dead Perhaps an Ignis fatuus now and then Starts up in holes stincks and goes out agen Such Kicksee winsee flames shew but how dear Thy great Lighâ—'s resurrection would be here A Brother with five loaves and two smal fishes A table-book of sighs and looks and wishes Staâ—tles religion more at one strong doubt Than what they mean when as the candle 's But I profane thy ashes gratious soul Thy spirit flew too high to truss these foul out Gnostick opinions Thou desired'st to meet Such tenents that dust stand upon their feet And beard the Truth with as intens'd a zeal As Saints upon a fast night quilt a meal Rome never trembled till thy peircing eye Darted her through and crush'd the mysterie Thy Revelations made John's compleat Babylon fell indeed but 't was thy sweat And oyle perform'd the work to what we see Foretold in misty types broke forth in thee Some shallow lines were drawn and sconces made By smatterers in the Arts to drive a trade Of words between us but that proved no more Than threats in cowing feathers to give ore Thy fancy laid the Siedg that wrought her fall Thy batteries commanded round the wall Not a poor loop-hole error could sneak by No not the Abbess to the Friery Though her disguise as close and subtly good As when she wore the Monk's hose for a hood And if perhaps their French or Spanish wine Had fill'd them full of beads and Bellarmine That they durst salley or attempt a guard O! how thy busy brain would beat ward Rally and reinforce rout and relieve Double reserves And then an onset give Like marshall'd thunder back'd with flames of fire Storms mixt with storms Passion with globes of ire Yet so well disciplin'd that judgment still Sway'd and not rash Commissionated will No words in thee knew order time place The instant of a charge or when to face When to pursue advantage where to halt When to draw off and where to re-assault Such sure commands stream'd from thee that 't was one With thee to vanquish as to look upon So that thy ruin'd Foes groveling confesse Thy conquests were their fate and happinesse Nor was it all thy business here to war With forreign forces But thy active star Could course a home-bred mist a native sin And shew its guilt's degrees how wherein Then sentence and expel it Thus thy sun An everlastingstage in labour run So that its motion to the eye of man Waved still in a compleat Meridian But these aâ—e but fair comments of our loss The glory of a Chruch now on the Cross The transcript of that beauty once we had Whiles with the lustre of thy presence clad But thou art gone Brave Soul with thee all The gallantry of Arts Polemical Nothing remains as â—râ—mitive but talk And that our Priests again in Leather walk A Flying ministerie of horse and foot Things that can start a text but nere come to 't Teazers of doctrines which in long-fleev'd prose Run down a Sermon all upon the nose These like dull glow-worms twinckle in the night The frighted Land-skips of an absent light But thy rich flame 's withdrawn heaven caught thee hence Thy glories were grown ripe for recompence And therefore to prevent our weak essaies Th' art crown'd an Angel with caelestiâ—l Bayes And there thy ravish'd Soul meets field and fire Beauties enough to fill its strong desire The contemplation of a present God Perfections in the womb the very road And Essensies of vertues as they bee Streming and mixing in Eternitie Whiles we possess our souls â—ut in a veyle Live earth confined catch heaven by retaile Such a dark-lanthorn age such jealous dayes Men tread on Snakes sleep in Bataliaes Walk like Confessors hear but must not say What â— bold world dares act and what it may Yet here all votes Commons and Lords agree The Crosier fell in Laud the Church in
thee On the death of his Royall Majesty Charles late King of England c. WHat went you out to see a dying King Nay more I fear an Angel suffering But what went you to see A Prophet slain Nay that and more a martyrd Soveraign Peace to that sacred dust Great Sir our fears Have left us nothing but obedient tears To court your hearse in those pious flouds We live the poor remainder of our goods Accept us in these later obsequies The unplundred riches of our hearts and eyes For in these faithful streams and emanations W' are subjects still beyond all Sequestrations Here we cry more than Conquerours malice Murder estates but hearts will still obey These as your glory 's yet above the reach may Of such whose purple lines confusion preach And now Dear Sir vouchsafe us to admire With envey your arrival and that Quire Of Cherubims and Angels that supply'd Our duties at your tryumphs where you ride With full caelestial Iôes and Ovations Rich as the conquest of three ruin'd Nations But 't was the heavenly plot that snath d you hence To crown your soul with that magnificence And bounden rights of honor that poor earth Could only wish and strangle in the birth Such pitied emulation stop'd the blush Of our ambitious shame non-suited us For where souls act beyond mortallity Heaven only can performe that Jubilee We wrastle then no more but bless your day And mourn the anguish of our sad delay That since we cannot add we yet stay here Fettred in clay Yet longing to appear Spectators of your bliss that being shown Once more you may embrace us as your own Where never envy shall devide us more Nor Citty tumults nor the worlds uproar But an eternal hush a quiet peace As without end so still in the increase Shall lull humanity a sleep and bring Us equal subjects to the heavenly King Till when I 'le turn Recusant and forswear All Calvin for there 's Purgatory here An Epitaph STay Passenger Behold and see The widdowed grave of Majestie Why tremblest thou Here 's that will make Alâ— but our stupid souls to shake Here lies entomb'd the sacred dust Of Peace and Piety Right and Just The bloud O startest not thou to hear Of a King 'twixt hope and fear Shedd and hurried hence to bee The miracle of miserie Add the ills that Rome can boast Shrift the world in every coast Mix the fire of earth and seas With humane spleen and practises To puny the records of time By one grand Gygantick crime Then swell it bigger till it squeeze The globe to crooked hams and knees Here 's that shall make it seem to bee But modest Christianitie The Lawgiver amongst his own Sentenc'd by a Law unknown Voted Monarchy to death By the course Plebeian breath The Soveraign of all command Suff'ring by a Common hand A Prince to make the oâ—ium more Offer'd at his very door The head cut off ô death to see 't In obedience to the feet And that by Justice you must know If you have faith to think it so Wee 'le stir no further then this sacred Clay But let it slumber till the Judgment day Of all the Kings on earth 't is not denyed Here lies the first that for Religion died A Survey of the World THe World 's a guilded trifle and the state Of sublunary bliss adulterate Fame but an empty sound a painted noise A wonder that nere looks beyond nine dayes Honour the tennis-ball of fortune Though Men wade to it in bloud and overthrow Which like a box of dice uneven dance Sometimes 't is one 's somtimes another's chance Wealth but the hugg'd consumption of that heart That travailes Sea Land for his own smart Pleasure a courtly madness a conceipt That smiles and tickles without worth or weight Whose scatter'd reck'ning when 't is to be paid Is but repentance lavishly in-layd The world fame honour wealth pleasure then Are the fair wrack and Gemonies of men Ask but thy Carnall heart if thou shouldst bee Sole Monarch of the worlds great familie If with the Macedonian Youth there would Not be a corner still reserv'd that could Another earth contain If so What is That poor insatiate thing she may call bliss Question the loaden Gallantry asleep What profit now their Lawrels in the deep Of death's oblivion What their Triumph was More than the moment it did prance pass If then applause move by the vulgar crye Fame 's but a glorious uncertainty Awake Sejanus Strafford Buckingham Charge the fond favourites of greatest name What faith is in a Prince's smile what joy In th' high Grand Concilio le Roy Nay Caesar's self that march'd his Honour s through The bowels of all Kingdoms made them bow Low to the stirrop of his will and vote What safety to their Master's life they brought When in the Senate in his highest pride By two and thirty wounds he fell and dyed If Height be then most subjected to fate Honour 's the day-spring of a greater hate Now ask the Grov'ling soul that makes his gold His Idol his Diana what a cold Account of happiness can here arise From that ingluvious surfet of his eys How the whole man 's inslaved to a lean dearth Of all enjoyment for a little earth How like Prometheus he doth still repair His growing heart to feed the Vultur care Or like a Spider's envious designes Drawing the threds of death from her own loines Tort'ring his entrails with thoughts of to morrow To keep that masse with grief he gain'd with sorrow If to the clincking pastime in his ears He add the Orphanes cries and widdows tears The musick 's far from sweet and if you sound him Truly they leave him sadder than they found him Now touch the Dallying Gallant he that lyes Angling for babies in his Mistris eyes Thinks there 's no heaven like a bale of dyce Six Horses and a Coach with a device A cast of Lacquyes and a Lady-bird An Oath in fashion and a guilded Sword Can smoak Tobacco with a face in frame And speak perhaps a line of sense to th' same Can sleep a Sabboath over in his bed Or if his play book 's there will stoop to read Can kiss its hand and congey a la mode And when the night's approaching bolt abroad Unless his Honour's worship's rent's not come So he fals sick and swears the Carrier home Else if his rare devotion swell so high To waste an hour-glasse on divinity T is but to make the church his stage thereby To blaze the Taylor in his ribaldry Ask but the Jay when his distress shall fall Like an arm'd man upon him where are all The rose-buds of his youth those atick toyes Wherein hee sported out his pretious dayes What comfort he collects from Hawk or Hound Or if amongst his looser hours he found One of a thousand to redeem that time Perish'd and lost for ever in his prime Or if he dream'd of an
eternal bliss Hee 'le swear God damne him he nere thought of this But like the Epicure ador'd the day That shin'd rose up to eat and drink and play Knows that his body was but dust and dye It once must so have mercy and God b'wy Thus having traverss'd the fond world in brief The lust of th' eyes the flesh and pride of life Unbiass'd and impartially we see T is lighter in the scale than vanitie What then remains But that we stil should strive Not to be born to dye but dye to live An old Man Courting a young Girle COme beauteous Nymph canst thou embrace An aged wise majestick grace To mingle with thy youthfull flames And make thy glories stayd The Dames Of looser gesture blush to see Thy Lillies cloth'd with gravitie Thy happier choice thy gentle Vine With a sober Elm entwine Seal fair Nymph that lovely tye Shall speak thy honour loud and high Nym Cease Grandsire Lover and forbear To court me with thy Sepulcher Thy chill December and my May Thy Evening and my Break of Day Can brook no mixture no condition But stand in perfect opposition Nor can my active heart embrace A shivering Ague in love's chase Only perhaps the luky tye May make thy forked fortune high Man If fretted roofs and beds of down And the wonder of the Town Bended knees and costly fare Richest dainties without care May temptatious motives bee Here they all attend on thee And to raise thy blisse the more Swell thy Truncks with pretious Oâ—e The glittering entrailes of the East To varnish and perfume thy Nest Nym. I question not Sage Sir but shee That weds your grave obliquitie Your Tizick Rhewms and Soldans face Shall meet with Fretted Roofs apace I fancy not your bended knees Least bowing you can sprightly rise Your gold too when you leave to woo Will quickly become Pretious too And dainty Cates without delight May glut the day but starve the night For when thou boasts the Beds of bliss The man the man still wanting is Man Nay gentle Nymph think not my fire So quench'd but that the strong desire Of love can wake it and create New action to cooperate The sparks of youth are not so gone But I ay marry that I can Come smack mee then me pretty dear Tast what a lively change is here Why fly'st thou me Nym. yce yce begon Clasp me not with thy Frozen Zone That pale aspect would best become The sad complexion of a Tombe Think not thy Church-yard look shall moove My spring to be thy Winter's Stove If at the Resurrection wee Shall chance to marry call on mee By that time I perhaps may ghuess How to bathe and how to dress Thy weeping legs and simpathise With perish'd lungs and wopper eyes And think thy touchy passion wit Love disdain and flatter it And ' midst this costive punishment Raise a politick content But whiles the Solstice of my years Glories in its highest sphears Deem not I will daign to be The Vassal of infirmitie The skreen of flegmatick old age Decay'd Methusalem his page No give me lively pleasures such Melt the fancy in the touch Raise the appetite and more Satisfie it ore and ore Then from the ashes of those fires Kindle fresh and new desires So Cyprus be the Scaene Above Venus and the God of love Knitting true-love-knots in one Merry happy Union Whiles their feath'red team appears Doves and Sparrows in their gears Flutt'ring ore the jovial-frie Sporting in love's Comaedie Man Hold hasty soul beauty 's a flower That may perish in an hour No disease but can disgrace The trifling blossoms of a face And nip the heights of those fond toyes That now are doted on with praise The noon-glory of the Sun To the shades of night must come May for all her guilded prime Has its weak and withering time Not a bud that owes its birth From the teeming-mother earth But excells the fading dress Of a womans loveliness For when flowers vanish here They may spring another year But frail beauty when 't is gone Findes no resurrection Scorn me then coy Nymph no more Fly no higher doe not soare Those pretty rubies of thy lips Once must know a pale Eclipse And that plump alluring skin Will be furrow'd deeply in And those curled locks so bright Time will all besnow with white Not a glory not a glance But must suffer change and chance Then though now you 'l not contact With me in the marriage Act Yet perforce chuse chuse you whether You and I shall Lye together An Epitaph on his deceased Friend HEre lies the ruin'd Cabinet Of a rich soul more highly set The drosse and refuse of a minde Too glorious to be here confin'd Earth for a while bespake his stay Only to bait and so away So that what here he doted on Was meerly accommodation Not that his active soul could bee At home but in eternitie Yet while he blest us with the rayes Of his short continued daies Each minute had its weight of worth Each pregnant hour some Star brought forth So whiles he travell'd here beneath He liv'd when others only breathe For not a sand of time slip'd by Without its action sweet as high So good so peacable so blest Angels alone can speak the rest Mount Ida or Beauties Contest THree regent Goddesses they fell at odds As they sat close in councel with the gods Whose beauty did excel And thence they crave A moderator of the strife to have But least the partiall heavens could not decide The grudg they stoop to Mortals to be try'd Mantled in clouds then gently down they fall Upon Mount Ida to appease the brall Where Priam's lovely Boy sporting did keep His Fathers lambes and snowy flocks of sheep His lilly hand was soon ordain'd to bee The harmless Vmpire of the fond decree To him to him they gave the Golden Ball O happy goddess upon whom it fall But more unhappy Shepeard was 't not pittv Thou didst not send it at a close Committee There there thou hadst surpass'd what did befall Thou might'st have crowned One yet pleased All. First then Imperious Juno did display Her coronet of glories to the Boy And rang'd her stars up in an arched ring Of height and majesty most flourishing Then wealth and honour at his foot did lay To be esteem'd the Lady of the day Next Pallas that brave Heroina came The thund'ring Queen of action war fame Dress'd in her glittering armes wherewith she layes Worlds wast new ones from their dust can raise These these she tenders him advanc'd to bee With all the wreaths of wit and gall antrie Last Venus breaks forth of her golden raies With thousand Cupids crown'd ten thousand Boyes Sparkling through every quadrant of her eyes Which made her beauty in full glory rise Then smiling vow'd so to sublime his parts To make him the great Conquerour of hearts Thus poor distracted Parâ—s all on fire Stood trembling deep in doubt
grain Or attome of black malice or disdain That for to boast thy riches to poor men Could'st drop a pearl and snatch it up agen First scrue us to an Extasie of blisse Then dash us by an Antipe'ristasis Punnish a moment's ravishing happiness With such a furious glut of sharp distress Could light darkness be so twin'd together In such close webs of bitter chang of weather Just parted by a single subtile thred No sooner to be judg'd a live but dead Could wit and fate no less a torment finde Would th' hadst not bin so cruel or so kinde Bless'd Babe why could not thy friends many tears Invite thine innocent stay for a few years Or at the least why didst thou them bereave Of the short comfort of a longer leave How can that drown the anguish of thy birth For joy a man was born upon the earth When th' Midwife only could arrive to this To reach thee to thy first and latest kiss How loaded with ingratitude didst thou part From thy twice travelling Mother in one smart First pain'd for thy remiss and slow delay Now thrown for thy abortive hast away But yet I wrangle not with heavens decree Th' hast only posted ore that miserie Through which we beat the hoof sad Seventy Years To the last Act of life in hopes and fears Midst a perverse world and a shipwrack'd-age Of Truth and Worth draw late off the Stage To lay more weight or pressure upon thee T were envy to thy suddain victorie Thou only wak'dst into the world and then Shut'st up in holy discontent agen Thy chast unspoted soul just lighted on The floor and perch of our low Horison But quickly finding the mistake that here Was not her Center nor her Hemisphaere She made a point and darted back most nice Like lightening to her element in a trice The Thracian Dranst which with joy interr Their Dead and sport about their Sepulchre But mourn still at their birth to think upon Those choaking cares of earth are coming on May here preach rules of piety to my grief In bad times doubting what 's best death or life Crown'd Saint indeed thou might'st have staid A mournfull Student in our historie Have read a world of sad looks in each page to bee And passage of a sore distracted age And then discuss'd the causes how and why Which to repeat renews th' extremity So have entail'd thy guiltless tears to ours Now swel'd to flouds by long continued showers But thou hast wrought that haven in a breath For which we sweat tug our selves to death Thou met'st no tempest of assault to stay Thy fleeting bark in full sail all the way Wee 're clogd with thousand Remoraes men of war That cross the rode through which with many a scar And foil we militant Christians doe coÌ„mence And at the last take heaven by violence Such was thy suddain how-dee farewell Such thy return the Angels scarce could tell Thy miss But that thy feast was drawing on Of th' Son of God's high Genethliacon Where all the holy Hosts appear to sing Solemn Deum's to the glorious King Hence flowes thy sweet excuse of hast Then since Our loss was thy enjoyment of thy Prince The Annual attendance on his Day To fill the heavens with Haleluiah Yet grant us so much of the court to bee Envious a while at thy felicitie That thou so young a favourite shouldst pertake Those smiles for which we so much cringing make And reach that height of honour in a glance For which we toil through Law Ordinance I chide thee then no longer Happy Soul Farewel farewel since man cannot controule The hand of Providence May thine ashes lye Soft till I meet thee in eternity Where we shal part no more nor death devide My griefs and their sweet object but a tide Of endlesse joy shall satisfaction make For this poor stream of brine shed for thy sake A short reflection on the creation of the World WHen as this circling Globe of Seas and Earth Snugg'd in her night-clothes and had neither birth Nor motion but a lumpish Caos stood An immaterial mass of slimy mud A confus'd pre existent nothing where T is blasphemy to say as yet things were The great Eternal Being thought it good His Spirit here should move upon the floud Hence bloom'd the early and the infant light From out the swathe-bands of eternal night Which now furl'd up in sooty curls gives back And place to Time to date its Almanack Whiles Midwife-Nature fits the Vacuum For the conceal'd impressions yet to come This glimmering splendor in its course begun Christ'ned three dayes before there was a Sun Thus things with things in miz'd confusion hurl'd Lift up their eye-lids Thus wak'd the World Nor was it yet broad day to any sight For time walk'd as it were by candle-light The East had not yet guilded bin by those Bright sparks by which she now most Orient growes When as the mutt'ring Elements took their place And Centers as their several nature was The active fire first clipp'd the azure Round To which the grosser ayre became a bound Each in his proper Orbe was stay'd and pent floud Environ'd bv a solid Firmament This was the time when th' rendevouzing Disbodying from the earth upon heaps stood And Nâ—ptune ore that raging bulk of brine Advanc'd his Mace and â—cepter tridentine Whiles the dry land peepp'd up out of the froth Like a short Commonâ— in a sea of brotn Spangled with fâ—uits flowers herbs grass And this the teeming world's First up-rise was Not long this beauty had in twilight lay But God made lights to sunder night and day And deck the checkred palace of the skyes With thousand Coronets of twinkling eyes Which by their rule aspects in their spears Should be for signes and seasons month s and And now if ever there was harmony years Amongst those blessed motions up on high T was in this instant when in joynt consent They danc'd this mask about the Firmament And plac'd that heavenly round which ore ore Must be renew'd till time shall be no more Next those rich bodyes of the Sun and Moon Like the High Constables of the watch for noon And night drew forth in glory wheÌ„ce created T is much more safe admired than debated Thus the Surveyors of the world took birth And this was The good morrow of the Earth There wanted nothing now trees herbs nor plants Nor sweets but a few wilde inhabitants Fish and the reptile creature winged Quires Of downy Organists for to tune their Lyres And fill the breaking ayre with Rapsodies Of chirping emulation to the skies Thus the self generative streams brought forth Th' Amphibious brood of water and of earth The shady woods now range with ecchoing straines Of shrill melodious notes whose pretty chains Tye up the ears of things in silent love As 't were a glimpse of heaven dropt from above Next came the silver harnass'd scaley
on high Whose every limbe became a Library As therefore in the works of Nature they Which are most ripe are neerest to decay So here this neighbouring Pyramid on th' sky Drew neerest heaven when furthest from the eye And now thy Clausum's true indeed The rode's block'd up to th' many reined steed Which to each point of the world's compasse reels And tacks her glad discoveries to her keels Let then the travelling Mariner in the deep Of the Reserves of reason goe to sleep Since the grave Pole-star of the groaping sky Has suffer'd ship-wrack in mortallity He that would praise thee well through all thy parts Must ransack all the languages and arts Drain nature to th' last scruple to discry How far thou went'st in her Anatomy Then climbe from orbe to orbe gather there The pure Elixar of each star and sphear Which in thy life did club their influence With thy rich flames as one Intelligence Then raise a blazing comet to thy name As a devoted Taper to thy Fame To live the pitied shadow of that day And glorious Noon which with thee drew away When Common People dye 't is but a sight Whose grief and dole's digested in a night But when such brawny sinews of a state As thee break loose 't is like a clock whose weight Being slipp'd a side all motion 's at a stand Such sorrows doe not wet but Drown a land Could we with that brave Macedonian Spark Offer whole towns and kingdoms to the Ark Of a lost friend now floating in our eyes And make more worlds in this grief sympathize T' were but due thanks for that high soveraignty Ore many nations we enjoy'd in thee To languish any longer at thy shrine Melting the sacred sisters into brine In a salt Hecatomb of tears 't would bee But a weak faint and pale discoverie Of those few artires of life they have Since the last mortal stab giv'n in thy Grave Such was the publick universal wound That the whole bod ' of Law learning found In thy preposterous and most sad decease There 's none can probe the grief or state that case In short we lost so many Tongues in thee There 's scarce one left to mourn thine obsequie Those shallow issues which now from us rise Steal through the speechless conduits of our eyes Which turning Water Poets tumble forth Insilent eloquence to bemoan thy worth Such deep impressions has thy farewel left In every bosom every secret cleft Of each particular soul instead of verse We live thy doleful Epitaph and Hearse And what the mournful Prophet sigh'd of old Seems now broke forth as of these times foretold Each face shall gather blackness for in thee Thus gone w' are shut up in obscuritie Such borrowed dependance had our light Upon thy sun thy evening was our night But since there 's no perfection here thy glass To become gold indeed translated was Thy furnish'd soul being fill'd with all that could Be here extracted from the grosser mould Of earth's Idea in a brave disdain Drew to its proper Center that vast Main Of truth and knowledg great Jehovah hee That 's all in all to all eternitie Where now I leave thee ' midst a glorious throng Of Saints but hope to see thee ere 't be long Vpon the death of John Selden Esquire NOw thou art dead Vnequall'd Sir thy fall Confounds no less than England's funerall For when the soul departs that gave her breath We are but loathed carkases in thy death Thus Pompey's Trunck found on the Egyptian sand Rome streight pronounc'd her time was at a stand So wheÌ„ a fair ag'd Oak doth downward move We count not one Tree's loss but the whole Grove As ayre and water when once useless grown One by too much drouth one b infection The Citty and Kingdom both deplore that loss And we entitle 't one man's private cross O that Pythagoras doctrine might obtain Old souls to inform new bodyes hast again Thâ—n would the world less sense of sorrow have Nought but to life a back-door were thy Grave And like the Phoenix dy'dst in balmy spice That theÌ„ce thou might'st into new glories rise But this we hope not for 't is thy praise Alone Salomon 's None such in your dayes Learned Maimonides hence improv'd his fame That none since Moses such a Moses came Joseph's perfections had out-shin'd far more If Julius Scaliger had not writ before Thou like Melchizedeck knewst no peer nor Rich only with thy own true estimate Witness those matchless volumes that can tell mate The world how vast a soul did in thee dwell So fraught with such a Mine of knowledg we Might think thee well a living Librarie Not like our Time-enthusiasts who disclose In scurrile Pens that they can rave in prose And in such narrow hoops the conscience pent As man nere durst nor God for laws ere meant Nay souls of men with such high reins keep in That to be reasonable is counted sin No in such season'd Judgment flowd thy Pen We thence might learn what temper became men Thou nor to Sects nor to parties writt'st t is But just to point thee singular in this But wiht unwearied pain dispenc'd thy store What all past ages thought and said before Arabians Persians Hebrews Greeks and all The Sun in'ts circuit dines or sups withall Thee in their several Idioms court and bring Their common-wealths of learning to their King As tribute Selden hadst thou flourished than When Jew and Greek Creet and Arabian What each in varied Dialects said could tell Thy acquir'd pains had lam'd the miracle Thy fruitful Tongues might far as day have run To language Countreis to the posting Sun The western Climes might have bin told by thee All that the Indian voic'd Antiquitie Nor is that all for numerous speech affords Without good conduct but a Mart of words A bunch of keyes men prize not wealth but letts Where skill comes short t' unlock the cabinets A magazine of sounds in most we see Serve but to stuss and perfect Pedantrie Thy copiousness of Tongues findes matter hence It lets in matter that conveyes new sense And rat'st thy painted words embroideries But as they usher strange discoveries That East Idolatry yet had lurk'd 't is ods But for thy subject of the Syrian gods The world had still in ignorance bin held How great she was had Selden not reveal'd Those pompous Attributes Titles of renown Which King Prince Emperor challeng'd as their own Earles Marquesses Dukes all degrees Hence found them boundes fix'd for precedencies A structure so elaborate it would ask Europe's joynt labour to out-goe the task The Law of Nations ' mongst the Hebrews taught And Nature's dictates where could we have sought But from that labour'd Piece is publish'd forth To leave the world a Legacy of thy worth I name not others thy choice rarities The Hebrew Priests defence of British Seas Arundles marbles and the Hebrew wife Thy Sanhedrims Tripartite