HYMNS OF ASTRAEA, IN ACROSTIC VERSE.  
LONDON, Printed for I. S. 1599   

HYMN I. Of Astraea.  

Early before the day doth spring,  
L et us awake my Muse, and sing;  
I t is no time to slumber,  
S oh many joys this time doth bring,  
A s time will fail to number.   

B ut whereto shall we bend our Lays?  
even up to Heaven, again to raise  
The Maid, which thence descended  
H o'th' brought again the golden days,  
And all the world amended.   

R udenesse itself she doth refine,  
even like an Alchemist divine,  
G rose time's of Iron turning  
Into the purest form of gold:  
N ot to corrupt, till heaven wax old,  
And be refined with burning.    

HYMN II. To Astraea.  

Eternal Virgin, Goddess true,  
L et me presume to sing to you.  
I one, even great love hath leisure  
S ometimes to hear the vulgar crew,  
And hears them oft with pleasure.   

Blessed Astraea, I in part  
E njoy the blessings you impart,  
T he Peace, the milk and honey,  
H umanity, and civil Art,  
A richer Dower than money.   

Right glad am I that now I live,  
even in these days whereto you give  
G reat happiness and glory;  
I fafter you I should be borne,  
N o doubt I should my birth day scorn,  
A dmiring your sweet story.    

HYMN III. To the Spring.  

E art now is green, and heaven is blue,  
L ively Spring which makes all new  
I olly Spring doth enter,  
sweet young Sunbeams do subdue  
A ngry, aged winter.   

B lasts are mild, and Seas are calm,  
E very meadow flows with Balm,  
T he earth wears all her riches,  
H armonious birds sing such a Psalm  
A s ear and heart bewitches.   

R eserue (sweet Spring) this Nymph of ours  
Eternal garlands of thy flowers,  
green garlands never wasting;  
I n her shall last our states fair spring,  
N owe and for ever flourishing,  
A s long as heaven is lasting.    

HYMN four To the month of May.  

E ache day of thine, sweet month of May,  
L oue makes a solemn holiday:  
I will perform like duty,  
Since thou resemblest every way  
A straea Queen of beauty.   

B o'th' you fresh beauties do partake,  
E ithers aspect doth Summer make:  
T houghts of young Love awaking  
H earts you both do cause to ache,  
And yet be pleased with aching.   

Right dear art thou, and so is she,  
even like attractive Sympathy,  
G aines unto both like dearness;  
I ween this made Antiquity  
N ame thee, Sweet May of Majesty,  
A s being both like in clearness.    

HYMN V To the Lark.  

Early cheerful, mounting Lark,  
L ights gentle Usher, morning's clerk,  
I n merry Notes delighting:  
S tint a while thy Song, and hark,  
And learn my new Inditing.   

B ear up this Hymn, to heaven it bear,  
even up to heaven, and sing it there,  
T oh heaven each morning bear it;  
H ave it set to some sweet Sphere,  
And let the Angels hear it.   

R enownd Astraea, that great name,  
E xceeding great in worth and fame,  
Great worth hath so renowned it,  
I t is astraea's name I praise,  
N owe then, sweet Lark, do thou it raise,  
And in high Heaven resound it.    

HYMN VI To the Nightingale.  

E very night from Even till Morn  
L oves Quirister amid the thorn  
I s now so sweet a Singer,  
S oh sweet, as for her Song I scorn  
A pollos voice, and finger.   

B ut Nightingale since you delight  
E for to watch the Starry night,  
T oh all the Stars of heaven,  
H even never had a Star so bright,  
A s now to earth is given.   

R royal Astraea makes our Day  
Eternal with her beams, nor may  
gross darkness overcome her;  
I now perceive why some do write,  
N o country hath so short a night,  
A s England hath in summer.    

HYMN VII. To the Rose.  

E ye of the garden, Queen of flowers,  
L oves cup wherein he Nectar pours,  
I ngendred first of Nectar:  
S weet nurse-child of the Springs young hours,  
And Beauties fair Character.   

Best jewel that the earth doth wear,  
even when the brave young Sun draws near,  
To her hot Love pretending;  
H imselfes likewise like form doth bear,  
A t rising and descending.   

R ose of the Queen of love beloved;  
E nglands great Kings divinely moved,  
G ave Roses in their Banner;  
I t showed that Beauties Rose indeed,  
N owe in this age should them succeed,  
And reign in more sweet manner.    

HYMN VIII. To all the Princes of Europe.  

E urope the earths sweet Paradise:  
L et all thy Kings that would be wise,  
I n Politic Devotion:  
S ail hither to observe her eyes,  
And mark her heavenly motion.   

B rave Princes of this civil age,  
E nter into this pilgrimage:  
This Saint's tongue is an oracle,  
H oer eye hath made a Prince a Page,  
And works each day a Miracle.   

Raise but your looks to her, and see  
even the true beams of Majesty,  
Great Princess, mark her duly;  
I fall the world you do survey,  
N o forehead spreads so bright a Ray,  
And notes a Prince so truly.    

HYMN IX. To Flora.  

E mpresse of flowers, tell where a way  
L ies your sweet Court this merry May,  
I n Greenwich garden Allies:  
Since there the heavenly powers do play,  
And haunt no other Valleys.   

B ewty, virtue, Majesty,  
E loquent Muses, three times three,  
The new fresh hours and Graces,  
H ave pleasure in this place to be,  
A 'bove all other Places.   

R oses and Lilies did them draw,  
E r they divine Astraea saw;  
G ay flowers they sought for pleasure:  
I n steed of gathering crowns of flowers,  
N owe gather they astraea's Dowers,  
And bear to heaven that treasure.    

HYMN X. To the month of September.  

E ache month hath praise in some degree;  
L et May to others seem to be  
I n Sense the sweetest Season;  
S eptember thou art best to me,  
And best dost please my reason.   

B ut neither for thy Corn nor Wine  
E xtoll I those mild days of thine,  
T hough corn and wine might praise thee;  
H even gives thee honour more divine,  
And higher fortunes raise thee.   

R enownd art thou (sweet month) for this,  
E 'mong thy days her birth day is,  
Grace, plenty, peace and honour  
In one fair hour with her were borne,  
N owe since they still her Crown adorn,  
And still attend upon her.    

HYMN XI. To the Sun.  

E ye of the world, fountain of light,  
Life of day, and death of night,  
I humbly seek thy kindness:  
S weet, dazzle not my feeble sight,  
And strike me not with blindness.   

B ehold me mildly from that face,  
even where thou now dost run thy race,  
T he Sphere where now thou turnest;  
H aving like Phaeton changed thy place,  
And yet hearts only burnest.   

R ed in her right cheek thou dost rise;  
E xalted after in her eyes,  
Great glory there thou showest:  
I n tother cheek when thou descendest,  
N ewe redness unto it thou lendest,  
And so thy Round thou goest.    

HYMN XII. To her Picture.  

E xtreame was his Audacity;  
L ittle his Skill that finished thee,  
I am ashamed and Sorry,  
S o dull her counterfeit should be,  
And she so full of glory.   

B ut here are colours red and white,  
E ache line, and each proportion right;  
these lines, this red, and whiteness,  
H ave wanting yet a life and light,  
A Majesty, and brightness.   

R ude counterfeit, I then did err,  
even now, when I would needs infer,  
Great boldness in thy maker:  
I did mistake, he was not bold;  
N or durst his eyes her eyes behold;  
And this made him mistake her.    

HYMN XIII. Of her Mind.  

E art now adieu, my ravished thought  
L ifted to heaven, sets thee at nought;  
I nfinit is my longing,  
S ecrets of Angels to be taught,  
And things to heaven belonging.   

B wrought down from heaven of Angels kind,  
even now do I admire her mind:  
T his is my contemplation,  
H ere clear sweet Spirit which is refined,  
A 'bove human Creation.   

R ich Sunbeam of th'aeternal light,  
E xcellent Soul, how shall I wright;  
Good Angels make me able;  
I cannot see but by your eye,  
N or, but by your tongue, Signify,  
A thing so Admirable.    

HYMN XIIII. Of the Sunbeams of her Mind.  

E xceeding glorious is this star;  
L et us behold her Beams a far  
I n a side line reslected;  
S ight bears them not when near they are  
And in right lines directed.   

B ehold her in her virtues beams,  
E xtending Sunlike to all Realms;  
T he Sun none views too nearly;  
H ere well of goodness in these streams,  
A ppeares right well and clearly.   

R adiant virtues, if your light  
E nfeeble the best judgements sight,  
Great splendour above measure  
I s in the mind, from whence you flow:  
N o wit may have access to know,  
And view so bright a treasure.    

HYMN XV. Of her Wit.  

E ye of that mind most quick and clear,  
Like Heavens eye, which from his sphere,  
Into all things prieth,  
S ees through all things every where,  
And all their natures trieth.   

B right Image of an Angel's wit,  
E xceeding sharp, and swift like it,  
Things instantly discerning:  
H aving a Nature infinite,  
And yet increased by learning.   

R ebound upon thyself thy light,  
E njoy thine own sweet precious sight:  
give us but some reflection;  
It t is enough for us, if we  
N owe in her speech, now policy,  
A dmire thine high perfection.    

HYMN XVI. Of her will.  

E for well affected will,  
L oving goodness, Loathing ill,  
I nestimable Treasure:  
Since such a power hath power to spill,  
And save us at her pleasure.   

B e thou our law, sweet will, and say  
even what thou wilt, we will obey  
T his Law, if I could read it:  
Herein would I spend night and day,  
And study still to plead it.   

R royal free will, and only free,  
E ache other will is Slave to thee:  
Glad is each will to serve thee:  
I n thee such Princely power is seen,  
N o Spirit but takes thee for her Queen,  
And thinks she must observe thee.    

HYMN XVII. Of her Memory.  

E xcellent jewels would you see,  
L only Ladies? come with me,  
I will (for love I own you)  
S hue you as rich a Treasure,  
A s East or West can show you.   

B ehold, if you can judge of it,  
even that great Storehouse of her wit;  
That beautiful large Table:  
H er memory wherein is writ  
All Knowledge admirable.   

R eade this fair book, & you shall learn  
E xquisite Skill if you discern,  
Gain heaven by this discerning;  
I n such a memory divine,  
N ature did form the Muses nine,  
And Pallas Queen of Learning.    

HYMN XVIII. Of her Fantasy.  

E xquisite curiosity,  
L ooke on thyself with judging eye,  
I f ought be faulty leave it,  
S oh delicate a fantasy  
A s this, will strait perceive it.   

B ecause her temper is so fine,  
E ndewed with harmonies divine:  
Therefore if discord strike it,  
H oer true proportions do repine,  
And sadly do mislike it.   

Right otherwise a pleasure sweet,  
E for she takes in actions meet;  
G racing with smiles such meetness;  
I n her fair forehead beams appear:  
N o summers day is half so clear,  
A dornd with half that sweetness.    

HYMN XIX. Of the Organs of her Mind.  

E clipsed she is, and her bright rays  
L ie under veils, yet many ways  
I s her fair form revealed;  
S he diversly herself conveys,  
And cannot be concealed.   

B y Instruments her powers appear  
E xceedingly well tuned and clear:  
This Lute is still in measure,  
H olds still in tune, even like a sphere,  
And yields the world sweet pleasure.   

R esolue me, Muse, how this thing is,  
E for a body like to this  
G ave heaven to earthly creature?  
I am but fond this doubt to make,  
N o doubt the Angel's bodies take,  
A 'bove our common nature.    

HYMN XX. Of the Passions of her Heart.  

E xamine not th'inscrutable heart,  
Light Muse of her, though she in part  
I mpart it to the Subject;  
S earch not, although from heaven thou art,  
And this an Heavenly object.   

B ut since she hath a heart, we know  
E for some passions thence do flow,  
T hough ever ruled with Honour;  
H oer judgement reigns, they wait below,  
And fix their eyes upon her.   

R ectified so, they in their kind  
Increase each Virtue of her mind,  
Governed with mild tranquillity;  
I n all the Regions under Heaven,  
N o State doth bear itself so even,  
And with so sweet facility.    

HYMN XXI. Of th'innumerable Virtues of her Mind.  

Ere thou proceed in this sweet pains,  
L earn Muse how many drops it raynes  
I n cold and moist December;  
S umme up May flowers & Augusts grains,  
And grapes of mild September.   

B ear the Seassands in memory,  
E arths' grasses, and the stars in Sky,  
T he little moares which mounted  
H ang, in the beams of Phoebus' eye,  
And never can be counted.   

R ecount these numbers numberless,  
Ere thou her virtue canst express,  
Great wit this count will cumber,  
I nstruct thyself in numbering Schools;  
N owe Courtiers use to beg for fools,  
All such as cannot number.    

HYMN XXII. Of her Wisdom.  

Eagle-eyed Wisdom, life's Lodestar,  
L ooking near on things a far;  
I oves best beloved daughter,  
S howes to her Spirit all things that are,  
A s love himself hath taught her.   

By this strait Rule she rectifies  
E ache thought that in her heart doth rise:  
T his is her clear true mirror  
H oer looking glass, wherein she spies  
All forms of Truth and Error.   

Right princely Virtue, fit to reign,  
Enthronized in her Spirit remain,  
G viding our fortunes ever;  
I f we this Star once cease to see,  
N o doubt our State will Shipwrecked be,  
And torn and sunk for ever.    

HYMN XXIII. Of her justice.  

E xiled Astraea is come again,  
L oh here she doth all things maintain  
I n number, weight, and measure:  
S he rules us with delightful pain,  
And we obey with pleasure.   

B y Love she rules more than by Law,  
even her great mercy breedeth awe:  
T his is her Sword and Sceptre,  
H erewith she hearts did ever draw,  
And this Guard ever kept her.   

R eward doth sit in her right hand:  
E ache Virtue thence takes her Garland  
G athered in honours garden:  
I n her left hand (wherein should be  
N aught but the Sword) sits Clemency,  
And conquers Vice with pardon.    

HYMN XXIIII. Of her Magnanimity.  

even as her State, so is her Mind,  
Listed above the vulgar kind:  
I t treads proud Fortune under,  
S un-like it sits above the wind,  
A 'bove the storms, and Thunder.   

B rave Spirit, large Heart, admiring nought  
E steaming each thing as it ought,  
T hat swelleth not, nor shrinketh:  
Honour is always in her thought,  
And of great things she thinketh.   

R ocks, Pillars, and heavens Axel-tree,  
E exemplify her Constancy;  
Great changes never change her:  
I n her Sex fears are wont to rise,  
N ature permits, Virtue denies,  
And scorns the face of danger.    

HYMN XXV. Of her Moderation.  

E mpresse of kingdoms though she be,  
L arger is her Sovereignty,  
I f she herself do govern;  
S ubiect unto herself is she,  
And of herself true Sovereign;   

B ewties Crown though she do wear,  
E xalted into Fortune's chair,  
T hroned like the Queen of Pleasure:  
H oer Virtues still possess her Ear,  
And counsel her to Measure.   

Reason, if she incarnate were,  
even Reasons self could never bear  
greatness with Moderation;  
I n her one temper still is seen,  
N o liberty claims she as Queen,  
And shows no alteration.    

HYMN XXVI. To Envy.  

E nuie go weep, my Muse and I  
Laugh thee to scorn; thy feeble Eye  
I s dazzled with the glory  
S hining in this gay poesy,  
And little golden Story.   

B ehold how my proud quill doth shed  
Eternal Nectar on her head:  
T he pomp of Coronation  
H o'th' not such power her fame to spread,  
A s this my admiration.   

R espect my Pen as free and frank,  
E xpecting not Reward nor Thank;  
Great wonder only moves it;  
I never made it mercenary;  
N or should my Muse this burden carry  
A s hired, but that she loves it.   
FINIS.