TEARS OF JOY SHED At the happy departure from Great Britain, of the two Paragons of the Christian world.  
FREDERICK and ELIZABETH, Prince, and Princess Palatines of Rhine, Duke and Duchess of Bavaria, etc.  
By R. A.  
jam redit & virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna.  
LONDON, Printed for Thomas Archer, and are to be sold at his shop in the Popes-head-palace, near the Royal Exchange. 1613.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, SIR THOMAS ERSKENE, LORD VISCOUNT FENTON, Baron of Dirrilton, Captain of his majesties Guards, Gentleman of his highness Bedchamber, and one of his majesties most Honourable Privy Council, etc.  

MY heart abhors ungratefulness, as hell,  
Yet how to clear myself, I cannot tell.  
I do not blow the fertile plains of Ind,  
Whose fruitful gifts may match the givers mind;  
I reap no harvest, from rich Arabian fields;  
Nor drink the golden streams, that Ganges yields.  
My greatest gift hath nothing to commend it,  
Except the givers grateful mind that send it,  
The least in means, but not the last in love,  
If equal power could poor goodwill approve.  
Which, if your honour, do but rightly weigh,  
A grateful mind is more, than gold can buy;  
In sign whereof my simple Muse affords,  
A worthy subject, drawn in worthless words;  
A base-born sister to the sacred Nine,  
Which never yet did taste Castalian wine,  
Nor sund herself upon Parnassus' side;  
But lived obscurely on the bank of Clide,  
A flood, beyond Permessis streams in pleasures,  
But unacquainted with the Muse's measures.  
The field from whence these fruitless gifts do flow,  
But new broke up, in time may riper grow.  
Which if it do, if by excess of toil,  
This barren field may turn a fertile soil;  
Unto your Honour (though their use be small)  
I'll consecrate the field, the fruit, and all.  
Which once, I wish, may yield some greater worth,  
Or still be barren, and bring nothing forth.  
Mean time, take this, not as the total sum,  
But as the interest of the rest to come.   
Your Honours, Most obsequious servant, Robert Allyne.   

Tears of loy.  

SHall Britain then forego her other eye,  
And lend her rarest gem, t'enrich the Rhine?  
This spacious Isle, though all too strait for three,  
Yet large enough, wherein two lamps may shine.  
Why then? though heavens have robbed us of the best,  
Shall distant rooms, divide the two, that rest?  
If nearness of the one, make both obscurer?  
Can distance add more brightness, than before?  
Is virtue, by itself sequestered, purer?  
Then, when obumbrate by another's glore.  
O sure it is! Nor can this Northern clime,  
Sustain two Suns together, at one time.  
This little world, within itself, confined,  
(Which Neptune from the greater world divides)  
Whose lamps gave light, beyond remotest Ind;  
Must now divide them, with the world beside;  
And that, which late enjoyed three lamps, alone,  
Now robbed of two, must be content of one.  
Go then (great Phebe) one half of our hope,  
And lend a new light, to an ancient land;  
A light; that neither raging seas can stop,  
Nor Tagus quench, nor Tiber's streams withstand.  
A light, a star, a fire, that shall consume,  
And dim th'adulterate light of Spanish Rome.  
Fear not worse fortune, in a foreign part,  
Or loss of parent's sight, or lack of friends,  
With one that carries more, then half thy heart,  
Whose breath, or death, upon thy love depends.  
And one, that glories more in being thine,  
Then being great commander of the Rhine.  
Behold a mighty land, a martial soil,  
(Whom Caesar had so much ado to daunt,  
And to contain in duty; of whose spoil  
Victorious Rome had little cause to vaunt)  
To thee (great Dame) do greater homage yield,  
Then Caesar could enforce, in armed field.  
The soil itself, a fertile glebe of ground,  
Where golden Zephir pleasant air inspires;  
Where grass, and grain, and Bacchus' gifts abound,  
And all that nature needs, or use requires.  
Where crystal brooks, & mettall-sheering strands,  
Infect their silver streams, with golden sands.  
The fields, no less delightful there, then here;  
The plains, irriguat with another Thames,  
A river, no less delicate, and clear,  
Deriving, from the steepy Alps, his streams.  
Adorned with spacious parks, in pleasant ranks;  
And many London's built upon his banks.  
A thousand tributary torrents falls,  
And in his bosom buries all their state;  
Who like a mass, made up of many smalles,  
Obscures their memories, that made him great.  
By whose augmenting help, grown monstrous huge  
He braves the Ocean, with a fresh deluge.  
Right over, and against, where stately Thames,  
Disburdens in the main, his borrowed growth,  
There changing both their natures, and their names,  
Each hath a prospect, to the others mouth.  
That, if a way lay through the boundless brine,  
The English Thames should touch the  Rhine.  
And sure it seems, the gentle, favouring waves,  
Have yielded passage, to these friendly floods,  
While winds, retiring in their trembling caves.  
Did leave calm seas, to welcome Neptune's broods,  
And father Ocean himself consented  
To have his mighty sons made more acquainted.  
Where, after some short parley passed between,  
They both did swear a solemn league of love;  
A league, that shall not end, till Thames and Rhine  
Leave off to run, or heavenly orbs to move:  
And as they swore, that so they meant to do,  
The Water-nymphes were witnesses unto.  
But least succeeding ages might allege  
Some frivole reasons, to infringe their oath,  
Each did confirm the friendship with a pledge,  
Two rarest jewels, that adorned them both.  
And for more surety, 'twas agreed upon,  
That both the jewels were conjoined in one.  
In whom, and in their sacred seed, for ever,  
That loving league shall undissolved stand,  
Which times, nor fates, nor death, cannot dissever,  
Nor all the force of hell's confederate band.  
Whose date (but new begun) shall ne'er expire,  
Till first, this threefold frame dissolve in fire.  
Let Tiber, Iber, Rodanus, and Seine;  
Let Tigris, Tanais, Euphrates, and Nile,  
Despise the heaven-bread-peace of Thames and rain,  
In whose proud eyes these precious gems seem vile.  
From these united floods shall spring a flower,  
To ruin Tiber's pride, and Iber's power.  
Let Ganges glory in his golden sands,  
Pactolus spread his streams in stately ranks:  
Let Indus lend his name to neighbouring lands,  
And throw despised pearls upon his banks.  
In your unequaled worths (O peerless pair!)  
The Thames and Rhine are rich above compare.  
Nor thou (O Forth) must be exempt, in this,  
Whose merit equals either of the two,  
From thee proceeds the ground of both their bliss,  
Thou bred these Gems, that Thames enjoyeth now.  
These lights, these stars, that now adorn the earth,  
To thee, do own their blood, their breath, their birth.  
join with the two, and make the number three,  
(Three famous floods, as earth cannot yield such)  
That so in number, ye may equal be,  
To those three Lamps, that graced you once so much.  
To whom (since one hath changed earth for heaven)  
One more succeeds, to make the number even.  
Our Henry-Fredricke, lies in timeless tomb,  
Whose double name expressed not half his worth;  
A Fredricke in his loss, supplies his room,  
And bearing half his name, one half sets forth  
Of him, whose all, is hardly matched by two,  
And therefore is too much, for one, to do.  
Yet thou (brave youth) of all the sons of men,  
Was only worthy, to be one of three,  
Ranked in that room, by him, who brooked it then,  
And dying, did resign the same to thee,  
Who by a high instinct of heavenly grace,  
Left not the world, till thou assumed his place.  
Go then, great Prince, and thou his other half,  
Grace of his youth, and glory of his age,  
Key of his secret thoughts, his second self;  
joy in his care, and comfort in his rage;  
And each, in others debt, so deep involved,  
That Gordius knot can sooner be dissolved.  
Go (royal ) and let the Rhine augment,  
What Thames hath now so gloriously begun,  
And while, that lamp of life is yet unspent,  
As Phoenix burns herself against the sun,  
That from her dust may spring another one,  
To grace th' Arabian bounds when she is gone:  
So now, raise up a world of royal seed,  
That may adorn the earth when ye are dead.   
R. A.   

To FREDERICK, Prince Palatine of RHINE, Duke of BAVARIA, etc.  

GReat offspring of a high Imperial Race,  
And now allied with a Royal kind,  
whose worth exceeds thy years, whose glorious place  
Is more than matched, by a generous mind.  
Whose outward grace, and inward gifts are such,  
As highest veins cannot express too much.  
Yet neither doth thy race, nor place, nor worth,  
Nor these rare parts of body, and of mind,  
Nor all thy merits, half so much set forth  
Thy happiness, as being now combined  
In love, and life, with one, whose virtues shall  
Add new renown, to race, and place, and all.  
Great Caesar-maker, thou whose powerful vote,  
Can raise a subject to the Imperial height;  
Thou canst make Emperors, and hast thou not  
In creating an Empress equal might?  
Express it then upon thy better half,  
And in advancing her, raise up thyself.  
That both together gracing Caesar's chair,  
Thy son may be Arch-sewer to his sire.    

TO EIZABETH Princess PALATINE of RHINE, Duchess of BAVARIA.  

Mirror of virtue, Beauty's blazing star,  
Whose worth amazes earth's remotest ends,  
A piece, which nature to adorn so far,  
In scorn of Art, her utmost skill extends.  
Where Pallas, Venus, Juno's gifts are such,  
That scarce they have reserved themselves so much.  
And must thou then (great dame) withdraw these beams,  
And dark this I'll, from whence thou draws thy stamp,  
Is all the circuit, betwixt Tay and Thames,  
Too strait a limit, for so great a Lamp?  
That so to give thy glory greater vent,  
Thou must possess the spacious continent.  
Yet though thy body be removed to Rhine,  
Thy name shall still thy native I'll adorn,  
Thy glory in the furthest North shall shine;  
And (as the Sun, through vapours seen, at Morn,  
Appears a larger body, to the eye,  
Then when he mounts the high Meridian sky)  
Thy beams shall from beyond the Belgic shore,  
Shine still as bright, and brighter than before.   
Collatio.  

What wonder was't, that Mortalleys did weep,  
When heavens themselves could not abstain from tears?  
What course in mourning, could the losers keep,  
When those, that gained so much, so sad appears  
But when times altered, with a milder turn,  
Then heavens, & earth did both leave off to mourn.  
What wonder was't, that mortal breasts did groan,  
When winds, & waves, could not contain their grief?  
Or what could still the chiefest mourners moan,  
When sympathyzing things found no relief?  
Till wedding joys, did weeping woes exile,  
Then sea, and air, did both begin to smile.  
What wonder is't that mortals leave their moans,  
When heaven themselves have changed their mourning cheer?  
What wonder is't, that earth forgets her groans,  
When sea, and air, are grown so calm and clear?  
O happy change! that heavens and earth doth turn,  
And seas, and air, to mirth, that late did mourn.  
Heavens, at our sorrows, seemed not half so sad,  
As now they joy, to see such joy on earth,  
Nor winds, were at our mourning half so mad,  
As now theyare pleased, and partners in our mirth;  
Nor at our grief, the seas grieved half so much,  
As now made calm, they joy, that our joy's such.  
This lower element, is but the centre,  
To which, the other's dregs, do downward move,  
That in the same, nor grief, nor joy can enter,  
But what the other three effect above,  
And mortal things that on the base earth breed,  
Move by superior powers, as by their head.  
But thou that sways this lands Imperial Mace,  
Whose spirit doth inspire, and move this Isle;  
And ye, his royal Queen, and Princely race,  
Though earth confine your persons for a while,  
Yet more than earthly is your sacred power,  
Which bears a kind of rule o'er all the four,  
For as ye seem too grieve or joy on earth,  
Fire, air, and seas, incline to grief, or mirth.   
FINIS.