A POEM UPON A Laurel-Leaf.  
Viris admodum Colendis, PUBLICAE SCHOLAE, Vulgò dictae, Harrow super Montem, GUBERNATORIBUS, VIZ. 

Dnᵒ CAROLO GERARD Baronetto.  
Dnᵒ EDVARDO WALDO Militi.  
CHEEK GERARD, Armigeris.  
DANIELI WALDO, Armigeris.  
GULIELMO FEN, Armigeris.  
EDVARDO WALDO, Armigeris.    
Hoc qualecunque Poema, Gulielmus Bolton M.A. & ejusdem Scholae Archi-didascalus, humillimè dedicat.   

In LAURUM APOLLINI dicatam, cujus Foliis (monitu Reverendi Viri Domini Fisher, & jussu Honoratissimae Dominae, Dominae Gerard) usus sum, quae mihi Morbo articulari laboranti, saepe medicata sunt.  

COnvenere loco quodam flammantis Olympi  
(Ut fama est) omnes Diique Deaeque simul.  
Queis placuit varias leges edicere, & inter  
Istas, de Arboribus Lex fuit una rata.  
Esto Jovi Quercus, Pinus Cybelaeque dicata,  
Populus Alcidi, Pallas, Oliva tibi.  
Sit mihi, Bacchus ait, Vitis, dulcissima Vitis,  
Deliciaeque virûm, deliciaeque Deûm.  
Formosae Veneris circundet tempora Myrtus,  
Myrto cincta duas vicerat illa deas.  
Sol memor & fati Phaethontis, & orbis adusti,  
Deposuit radios, qui nocuere, suos.  
Pro radiis dixit, cingat mea tempora Laurus,  
Sola caput nostrum Laurea serta tegant.  
Nunc, Quàm me juvat 
* Vide Ovidii Metam. l. 1.  esculeas dimittere frondes?  
Jupiter has solus, si placet, inquit, habe.  
Sic Phoebus: risere Dii, risere Deaeque;  
Et mira attonito res mihi visa fuit.  
Quamvis attonito, causas tamen addere causis  
Stat mihi, cur Phoebo Laurea sacra fuit.  
Anne quòd, aiebam, flammis data conscia Laurus  
Dat strapitum, Dominum ceu miserata suum?  
An, quod perpetuo Laurus frondescit honore,  
Et semper, Juvenis ceu Deus iste, viget?  
An, quòd non saevi fulmen timet illa Ton●ntis,  
Fulmen, quô Phaethon praecipitatus erat?  
An, quòd venturi narratur praescia, visa est  
Arbor Fatidico Laurea digna Deo?  
Nunc hanc, nunc aliam placuit mihi fingere causam,  
Quin causa incerta est ista, vel ista mihi.  
Arborem in hanc versâ de Daphnê fabula venit  
In mentem; haud placuit fabula at ista mihi.  
Ob fructum, dixi, Pallas dilexit Olivam;  
Neve minùs prudens Pallade, Phoebus erat:  
Inveni tandem: Medicorum Divus Apollo est;  
Consului Medicos; hi retulere nihil.  
Ridebat quidam, si quisquam, verus amicus,  
Quique Lucas misero contulit alter opem;  
Ridebat, Quare, &, Medicos tu consulis, inquit?  
Ut radios, Laurum donat Apollo tibi.  
Non capio, dixi: Non me capis, ille ferebat?  
Dat Phoebus gratis munera quaeque sua.  
Te Medici Laurum, te celavere, salutem  
Quamque Ars istorum non dabit, illa dabit.  
Vane, quid à Medicis posthàc sperare licebit?  
Quum Needhamus opem non tulit ipse tibi.  
Non tulit ipse tibi; qui saepe e faucibus atrae  
Mortis, te raptum reddidit arte suâ.  
Needhamus, cui non Medicorum opprobria dici  
Possunt, quem doctum noveris atque pium.  
Pergit: luce suâ quâ conspicit omnia, Phoebus  
Virtutem Lauro vidit inesse suae.  
Nec desivit adhuc: Quendam vidisti n' amicum,  
More tui misero qui laceratus erat?  
Acceptam Lauro gratus fert ille salutem; 
Dominus Meur.   
Vidisti, erectus quàm novus Aeson adest?  
Arreptâ dextrâ Laurûs tunc comiter usum  
Me docet; at surdis auribus ille canit.  
Morbo etiam atque etiam fueram distortus acuto;  
(Scilicet, haud Laurum corpora sana probent)  
Assurgit tandem mulier sata sanguine Regum,  
(Cui non est Virtus nobilitate minor)  
Haec, tanquam fuerat divino concita motu,  
Uterer ut Lauro, ter mihi jussa dedit.  
Nec mora: continuò illius praecepta facesso,  
Atque manu capio munera, Phoebe, tua.  
Admotâ Lauro, morbi fugêre dolores,  
Et sumunt vires corpora nostra novas:  
Auricomis ramis tutus sic Troius Heros  
Tartarei vidit regna timenda Dei.  
Post Laurum acceptam, Quàm sum diversus ab isto  
Olim qui fueram? Quàm novus alter ego?  
Dissimilis primae Domina es Gerarda Parenti;  
Arbore tu vitam, contulit Eva necem.  
Visa tuo Regi in somnis dedit herba salutem,  
Quam medici haud dederant, sic Ptolomaee, tibi.  
Romano, multos hostes qui fudit, habere  
Appositam Laurum, fas erat, ante fores.  
Heu! Quàm non decuit talem sacra Apollinis arbor?  
Seruâsse est Phoebi, non jugulâsse viros.  
Arbor pluris erit Phoebi, ratione medendi,  
(Si minimo vatum scire futura dedit)  
Quid? Laurum spectat Phoebus de sede coruscâ,  
Reddentem miseris corpora firma viris:  
I nunc, laetus ait, mireris, Pallas, Olivam,  
Vitemque ostendas, ebrie Bacche, tuam.  
Afficiunt morbis mortales munera vestra;  
E Lauro nostrâ est certa reperta salus.  
Quòd per te, Alma Pales 
* v. Ovid. de Fast. l. 4.  valuere hominesque gregesque,  
Grata tuis fuerat Laurus adusta focis▪  
Nunc, per me, Medicis licet ingeminare cachinnos,  
Arborem Apollineam dilacerentque jocis.  
Gratus ego scribam: Vireat Phaebeïa Laurus,  
Quâ mihi plus nummi, plusque salutis adest.    

Upon the LAUREL, sacred to APOLLO, whose Leaves I made use of (by the Advice of Mr. Fisher, and the repeated Commands of the Honourable the Lady Gerard) which have often cured me of a Rheumatism.  Paraphrastically translated by T. F. Gent. 

THE Gods and Goddesses, with joint Consent,  
Met once (as Fame reports) in Parliament,  
And there disposed, by high and firm Decrees,  
Of all Things; and, amongst the rest, of Trees.  
Jove made Dodona's Noble Oak his Choice,  
His Right being first to an Elective Voice.  

The Mother-Goddess took the lofty Pine.  
The fruitful Olive was, Minerva, thine.  
And jolly Bacchus chose the spreading Vine.   
Sacred t' Alcides was the Poplar Tree:  
The Myrtle, Beauteous Queen of Love, to thee.  
Let all the Grove turn round into a Ring,  
And bowing low, salute thy Myrtle King.  
'Tfor Rule, tho' not for Empire fit  
By Native Worth, yet by thy Choice of it.  
Apollo laid his too-bright Glories down,  
And wreathed about his Head a Laurel Crown,  
Loving much less to be in Sun shine seen,  
Than clad in new and everlasting Green.  
Jove turned about his Head, and smiling said,  
Now, now you have enjoyed the flying Maid.  
Most thought the thing ridiculous and odd,  
A Choice too foolish for so wise a God;  
And all did Pallas and Lyaeus praise,  
Who from their Trees both Wine and Oil could raise.  
I wondered likewise at an Act so vain,  
And feared the God had prejudiced his Brain;  
And sought a thousand Reasons in my Mind,  
T' excuse the Choice, but could not Reason find.  
I knew the Laurel had been always worn,  
And still the Heads of Poets did adorn;  
But since the Rhyming Tribe are always poor,  
(For Father Homer begged from Door to Door)  
The Laurel was for Mercury more fit,  
As th' Emblem both of Poverty and Wit.  
At last, thought I, since Phoebus has the Art,  
As God of Physic, Medicine to impart,  
Perhaps by Laurel he some way has found  
To cure an high Disease, or heal a Wound.  
I asked the Doctors, whether it were so;  
Who smiling at my Question, answered, No.  

But wiser Fisher better Comfort gave,  
Fisher the Name of Second Luke may have;  
Fisher, that can both Souls and Bodies save.   
Consult Physicians, Friend, said he, no more,  
But take Apollo's much more bounteous Store;  
He with a quick and all discerning Eye  
The secret Virtues did of Laurel spy.  

All may enjoy alike his Beams and Tree;  
He scatters both his Blessings, frank and free;  
Gives the best Physic, and yet takes not Fee.   
Dost thou not know, (thou canst not choose but know)  
How our dear Friend was wracked a while ago? 
Monsieur Meur.   
How your Disease did all his Limbs surprise?  
A Torture, which almost all Art defies.  
Yet he no sooner did these Leaves apply,  
But he cried out aloud, I will not die.  
I feel, I change this heavy lump of Earth,  
And, Aeson like, receive a second Birth.  
This, and much more, my dear Friend Fisher told,  
And then began its Virtues to unfold.  
I stupid, hardly heard the Words he spoke,  
Nor minded Counsel, I refused to take:  
Till by a Noble Lady ordered thrice,  
I yielded to her safe and wise Advice.  
The Prophetess affirmed, th' Effects were sure,  
And both at once foretold and made the Cure.  
Tell me, my Muse, for thou alone canst tell,  
What Magic in the beauteous Sex does dwell?  
What charming Witchcraft do the Fair invent,  
To force, and yet persuade us to consent?  
Blessed be the Sex, so apt and prone to save,  
And blest the Tongue, which those Injunctions gave.  
What  Gifts do I from you receive,  
From those bestowed by my first Mother Eve?  
She brought in Death by one forbidden Tree,  
You by another do new Life decree;  
And by an Act, which nothing can confute,  
Have made the Leaf more noble than the Fruit:  
For nothing, when I'm sick, can that excel,  
Which but to use and try, is to be well.  
That healing Herb was something like this Tree,  
Which Alexander did in Vision see,  
And did his Health to Ptolemy restore,  
When the Physicians had quite gi'n him o'er.  
Rome (which allowed t' each mighty Conqueror  
To plant a Laurel tree before his Door)  
Mistook its Property, and placed it ill;  
The Laurel is to cure, and not to kill.  
And therefore Phoebus values it as good,  
Rather for saving, than for spilling Blood.  
Now, O Physicians, torture whom you please  
With nauseous Potions, worse than the Disease.  
Who'll now esteem those Medicines you impart,  
When one poor Leaf can baffle all your Art.  
Mock as ye will, ye have my leave to grin;  
I'll trust the Proverb, Let them laugh that win:  
And will that safer Physic still pursue,  
Which gives me Health, and saves my Money too.    

LONDON, Printed for W. Crook at the Green Dragon without Temple-Bar. 1690.   

Books Printed for W. Crook.  
1. HOmer's Iliads and Odysseys, translated into English, by Thomas Hobbes of Malmsbury. 12ᵒ.  
2. The Wonders of the Peak in Darbyshire, commonly called The Devil's Arse of Peake; in a Poem, Latin and English. By Tho. Hobbes. 12ᵒ.  
3. The historians Guide; or Britain's Remembrancer: Being an Account of all Actions, etc. Designs, etc. Preferments, etc. that are worthy notice, that have happened in His Majesty's Kingdoms from Anno Dom. 1600. to this time; and showing the Day of the Month each Action was performed in: With an Alphabetical Table. In 12o. Price 2 s.  
4. Peppa, a Novel, with the Songs set to Music for two Voices. By a Gentlewoman. In 12ᵒ.  
5. Britain's Glory; or, England's Bravery: Wherein is showed the Degrees of Honour from the Prince to the Peasant, and the proper Places and Precedency of all Persons, from the Throne to the Bondman▪ With a Dictionary explaining Terms in Heraldry. Also an Account of all the Orders of Knighthood in Christendom, etc. By B. Smithurst. 12o. Price 1 s. 6 d.  
6. A Modern View of such Parts of Europe that have lately been, and still are the Places of great Transactions, viz. Italy, France, Germany, Spain, etc. With curious Remarks of Antiquity. 8o. Price 2 s. 6 d.