Poesis Rediviva: OR, poesy revived.  
BY JOHN COLLOP M. D.  
Odi prophanum vulgus & arceo.  
LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Prince's arms in S. Paul's churchyard. 1656.   

To the Right honourable, HENRY, Marquis of Dorchester, Earl of Kingston, Viscount Newark, The Lord Pierrepont.  
SI fuerint Moecenates, non defuerint Marones': Poetry revives quickened by the beams of such a Sun, whom all the Muses acknowledge their Apollo; and sunlike you may gild even the lowest and most humble Valleys, yet neither impair your height or lustre; glance a more auspicious beam on this birth, which Eaglet-like approaches the Sun for legitimation, the most piercing ray of your judgement. I shall not after the mode of Dedications, cry cut of jejunenes and Sterility, and entreat a Patronage to my weakness; as not content to commit error without a Patron, or recommitting it in an apology: To gild a dunghill would but exhale a stench; though the odours of Virtues charioted in sunbeams, may communicate their influences, and perfume the world. Nor wants Poetry her Virtues; Stones, Trees, and wild Beasts, accompany an Orpheus, while he mollifies the most obdurate, and stone-assimilating tempers; teaches the most irregular pieces by his measures, to be squared by the rule of proportion, and serve to the edifice of Virtue; produces harmony out of nature's discords, while the most savage natures by his harmony, are reduced to consort: Civility dead, poesy revives: and though some object as the lyric to Maro, Quid si Threicio blandius Orpheo, auditam moderere arboribus fidem, non vanae redeat sanguis Imagini; Virtue now being only a vain and bloodless Image. Yet the love of this Eurydice stung by the old Serpent, teaches me a descent into this homebred hell we carry within us; where foul tormenting passions reside like furies; Lust is tied unto a wheel, Care and Envy, Vultur-like, feed on the Heart and Liver, while Incontinence pours water into Sieves; Ambition rowls stones up Mountains, and the dropsy of Avarice, Tantalus- like, is thirsty in full Rivers. And though with Orpheus I cannot hope to unlearn Furies their cruelty, and teach their eyes in tears to wear the Livery of Repentance; or reduce the beloved Eurydice: yet if I can ease any of their pains, by the delivery, my Charity-will be brought to bed of her children, which I shall desire your Honour a Witness to. Nor is poesy unworthy of your Patronage, which a Sir Philip Sidney hath praised, our seraphic Donne used, the learned Scaliger, and he who makes all praises modest, the excellent Hugo Grotius laboured in. Nay, even the Prophets were Poets, and Pagan Poets are cited by the Apostles. And though poesy be vinum daemonum, as the Father calls it, when it inebriates men's minds with folly; yet it is flagellum daemonum when it las●…es them out of their vanity, tormenting them in their members. The enriching of the people of God with the ornaments of Egypt, S. Austin applies to Arts and Sciences invented by Heathen, but taken from them as the spoil●… of Egypt, and converted to God's service. It may be said of poesy, as of S. Cyprian, Lactantius, Victorinus, Hilarius, Quanto auro & argento, & veste exiit ex Aegypto? Converted from Paganism to Christianity. Let an Atheist, like Porphyrius, scoff at it, as borrowed from Gentilism; and an Apostate, resembling Julian, prohibit human literature in Christians, which none have disrespected, beside those whose ignorance rendered incapable of it, or blacker impieties court Oblivion. This could make an Octavius descend to the lyrics friendship; and a Lord Brook, as the most permanent Epitaph, desire to be writ Sir Philip Sidney's friend. Friends to poesy cannot want a memory, while Time can keep a Register. Dignum laude virum musa vetat mori; & ego te meis chartis carpere lividam opinionem totque tuos patiar labores? Whether your anatomical inspections to know yourself both within and without, which entitle you to that some have called the Physician, a wise man; or unridling enigmatical Law quirks? not only by using your fortunes with reason enjoy them, but know the reason how you enjoy; or whether you unravel Nature to her first Principles, and become of the Cabinet council to the world's Monarch, which styles you what others are miscalled, The most Honourable, who in the worst of times dare be good; and when Ignorance is an epidemical disease, pass untainted; make to use of your Eminency to become a State weathercock, and turn round with every wind; or resemble those magnificoes, who Comet-like sprung from fat and slime of earth, blaze and become portentous to Kingdoms; while Ignorance is blazoned with Power, and Ambition and Avarice dressed out with formalities of State: like antics in great houses carved with Honours, and gilded with Titles, may attract admiration from vulgar heads: Yet wiser men can make no greater use of then the cynic of his statues, only to exercise patience. But to you, (who have passed through the Temple of Virtue to that of Honour, whose Honour is a Temple to enshrine Virtue, monopolising more than these want, whose glorious outsides, like Egyptian Temples, by introspection afford nothing above an Ape.) As a tribute due to honour, I present these besprinklings of a retirement, while Democritus-like I laugh at the shuttlecock world, and exquire the causes of the spleen in the beast, the Rabble; which will invite some who Abderitanae pectora plebis habent, the mad Rabble, and those Plebeian heads, who are a degree above them in their Clothes, not in their intelligences, to accuse me of frenzy: Yet an Hippocrates (the more refined spirit) will pass intainted with the air of popular displicencies, since the Temples of Virtue and honour want not their sacrifices.  
Your honours most humble Servitor and most affectionate Admirer, i: COLLOP.   

Poesis Rediviva: OR poesy revived.  

The Poet.  

WHat art? thought below wise-men▪ yet 'bove ages;  
Canst make seven lines, speak more than the seven Sages?  
A name for Falkland, or th'Lord Digby fit?  
Or the Elixir of Hugh Grotius wit?  
Pacing in rhythm no Poets makes; words fit,  
High sense, soul quickening each part of it.  
Fancies effluxions which with light do stream,  
Each sentence gilding like a Solar beam.  
No day can pass to write lends him no ray;  
Nay makes even night vie splendour with the day.  
To feed on trash hath no green sickness Muse,  
Through wit's obstructions a Cachexy shows:  
No cup-frothed fancy, sparkled wit from wine;  
Sobriety waters virtues in each line.  
None are born Poets, naturally some pace,  
Shuffle in rhythm, horselike, without a grace.  
His Helicon must flow from sweat of's brain;  
And musing thoughts lend his poetic vein;  
Richer than those veins spring from heart of earth,  
While Gold without an Ore he giveth birth.  
Th' philosopher's Elixir in each line,  
Doth in Epitome all that's rich confine.  
Above the salts of Ciceronian wit,  
Whose name can lend no grain to season it.  
Nor Adages, nor apothegms new picked,  
Bear-like nor formed, nor handsome 'cause their licked,  
Vents only what mistaken Sages coined,  
With the disguise of verse on what's purloined:  
Unhappy fate of Poets to be poor,  
All begged, or borrowed from another's store.  
He must have ravelled times, and Kingdoms through,  
And when the world oreviewed, can make a new.  
A Plato's Commonwealth who can outdo?  
A More's Utopia, and Atlantis too.  
Can challenge Titians, or our Vandickes hand;  
Upbraiding nature whose rich pieces stand,  
Not Zeuxes-like, paint grapes that birds draw nigh,  
But red with blood of Families drunkards fly.  
Pierces like lightning, yet not hurts the skin,  
Though melts i'th' womb the conceived Child of sin.  
At th' horror himself makes th' Tyrant fear,  
While he's transformed to tiger, Wolf, or Bear.  
'Bove th' Theban Harmony can structure raise  
To Abraham's Sons, teach even stones God to praise.  
Make birdlimed Avarice th' Idol gold to leave,  
Think't pale with guilt, or gilt o'er to deceive.  
Into a scorched Amorist ice convey;  
Calm rage, while reason passions storms obey.  
Embalmed with Odours virtue make perfume:  
While putrid vanity doth in stench consume.  
Tainted with sour breath, rotten vice decays:  
Virtue is always green like th' poet's bays:  
The Luxury of whose wit runs not to weeds;  
But running up provides for knowledge seeds;  
Who eaglelike doth on a Pyramid sit  
'Bove passions tempests, and a flashing wit:  
Above the Clouds secure doth view the Sun:  
And in a line like him enlightening run;  
Nay with Ecstatick Paul doth take take a ●…light;  
And with intelligences trades for sight;  
Thus to the Echoing Angels Moses sung;  
And David's harps to H●…llelujahs strung;  
In proverbs glorious Solomon's arrayed;  
From clouds of parable th' Gospel light displayed,  
Nor would it blasphemy be for to deny  
The whole Creation ought but poesy:  
When God in number made, and measure all;  
May we not truly term poetical;  
Six days the order in Creation show,  
Not how God made, but we th' worled made may know.  
Less than a moment made it, a sit lux  
Streamed out life, Essence, motion, times efflux:  
The world as in a womb was in God's mind:  
Within himself all light, to make't outshined.  
The riddle destiny which unhinges brains,  
Within him with whom all's present how remains?  
Who preordains the things that present be:  
'Tis God descends to us by poesy.  
Paul with such knots as these Christ's Spouse hath dressed,  
Which to damnation the unstable wrest.  
While Poet-like he acts the Carnal man,  
They make him so, by their own lusts him scan:  
Poets are Prophets, and the Priests of heaven:  
Though to hell's mimics Idol Priests th' names given.  
Into Jerusalem Lord turn Babylon's flame,  
The objects vary, yet the passions th' same.  
Teach that love holiness which no holiness knew,  
Let zeal inflame the hearts which lust did stew.  
Thus holiness to the Lord we all may sing,  
To write take pinions from a Cherubs wing.    

On the Soul.  

ENigma to the Philosopher and divine;  
All the souls effects, none can the soul define.  
All say the soul immortal, none do prove:  
Nor life, nor arguments a belief can move.  
How can the soul an act of the body be,  
Which to the body gives existency?  
If out of matter souls result? can we  
In natural souls prove immortality?  
Or him who says mankind hath one control,  
Since every species can have but one soul?  
If the soul's infused, how shares it Adam's sin?  
How with divinities the sin of flesh served in?  
Or who in all i'th' shapes of men here move  
Can souls that rational, or immortal prove▪  
Each species may give souls of growth, and sense:  
Vital and animal functions may dispense  
Without infusion: wise as Banks his horse;  
Then whom few better, we find many worse.  
Who knows himself, knows all; he's wise indeed,  
Who can retire within, and himself read.  
Unhinging wiser brains shall ne'er stretch mine:  
What's the soul I care not Lord, so it be thine.  
Whether the soul's traduced or infused,  
It not concerns, but how by passions used.  
Whom flesh doth rule can't what is soul is know,  
who'd know't with God must in acquaintance grow.  
What is it Lord? 'tis thine; sure part of thee  
Treating in human flesh a deity.  
Th' soul's all in all, and all in every part:  
So all in all, and in all Lord thou art:  
By whom we live, move, be, and all things know,  
Life, motion, essence, knowledge from thee flow.  
Is't not a glimpse of th' spirit first made light  
Which here is muffled in a Cloud of night?  
When God but takes this veil of flesh away,  
To him the light of lights, returns this ray.  
The soul that works by principles of light,  
Doth while 'tis here itself to God unite.  
Who here lays the vesture of his flesh aside,  
From him heaven glory, Earth can't secrets hide,  
Let contemplation give but wings tothth' soul,  
It in a moment travels to each pole;  
Descends to th' centre, mounts to th' top of th' world,  
In thousand places can at once be hurled;  
Can fathom the universe, without touching it;  
A Judge of states, Arts, nay, of worlds may sit.  
But oh a soul immersed in flesh and blood,  
Is lost 'midst wild beasts in a pathless wood,  
Ambition wracks the soul; 'tis fooled by love;  
Pleasure doth melt, hope by a tickling move;  
Anger now burns, then's reinflamed by lust;  
Despair depres●…es, avarice doth rust;  
Now cruelty doth obdurate to a stone;  
And then revenge makes me more hard than one;  
Envy now gnaws, and hatred straight her sours;  
The fire of jealousy smothers all her powers;  
Sorrow doth lend me floods which fear turns ice,  
I'm cold to virtue, hardened by vice;  
Lord, see this bird of Paradise in a Cage,  
Assailed by a mutinous tumuls rage!  
See th' daughter of thy bounty heavens own Child;  
By passions rabble shall she be defiled?  
Shall they the sceptre of her government take?  
She is a Queen which thou her Kings didst make,  
Th●… King's daughter Lord was glorious within,  
Let not her beauty be eclipsed by sin.  
She 〈◊〉 her fellows should be brought to thee,  
Virtues and Graces should companions be;  
A wedding garment Lord on her bestow:  
Let her embroid●…ed with thy graces go,  
If with th' white robe of innocence I can't come;  
Mix the purple of thy blood or martyrdom,  
Since the soul's a ray that's borrowed of thy light,  
Shall sin extinguished in eternal night?  
Lord let my soul return from whence it came,  
Let not a spark of heaven turn to hell's flame.    

The fruit of Paradise.  

When that my soul by magic would aspire,  
Prometheus●…ike fetch down Celestial fire;  
Paul like to Paradise raped by th' part divine,  
Sure lust doth me unto this tree recline;  
While I descend, and th' pleasures taste of sense,  
The tree of life my jesus's banished hence.  
He must relinquish flesh and blood who'll be  
Made a partaker of divinity.  
Man is a Garden, Jesus is within  
The tree of life, which we do lose by sin.  
Vittue makes heaven, while Hell is made by vice,  
Who lives like Enoch, walks in paradise.  
But he who follows th' crooked ways of sin,  
A Serpent to this Garden doth let in;  
To taste the fruits of sense doth him entice,  
Then sees his sin, and himself naked by vice.  
While God his Saints with sanctity doth clothe  
The figleaves of Hypocrisy they loathe.  
Fallen midst the trees they seek to hide their sin;  
But God i'th' conscience is who speaks within;  
Our better thoughts of paradise are the trees  
Which they secluded are, whom sins can please:  
Earth turned to earth, which if none do manure  
It doth sins fruits, thistles and thorns endure.  
But see on water th' spirit moves of love,  
To make the first light did on waters move,  
From th' fount of Baptism, there do rivers flow  
Which water paradise, and make heaven's fruit grow.  
The seed of life thus watered did die,  
To raise up fruit for all eternity.  
The tree of life was joined to death's tree  
To make the barren bare it God must be,  
Into the ground thou Lord it cast, that we.  
Fixed to thy root, may ever living be.  
Thou Lord the Earth didst ope, that death might have  
And's sister sin in life's sepulchre grave.  
Who to the world is tied, to the cross is nailed,  
His bones are broke, and he by death assailed;  
But he's a good thief violence offers there,  
The flaming sword keeps Paradise sure is prayer;  
Or thy sprites Cherubins and the flaming sword,  
Which keeps the tree of life is Lord thy word.  
Since thou of life in Paradise art the tree,  
Lord when thy Kingdom comes, remember me;  
The bone thou gav'st us is with th' Serpent joined,  
Sin breaks the bones, which first with sin conbined.  
The Serpents damned to dust which us betrayed,  
Lift like a Serpent up in dust thou'rt laid.  
Sin Lord's a Serpent with a fiery sting,  
Thou lifted up dost to us medicine bring:  
Thorns on thy brow earth's curse for him dost wear,  
Thou mak'st them Lord a Crown by being there.  
Thief like to th' cursed tree i'm nailed by sin;  
Yet sin makes wounds to let thy mercy in.  
Lord say the word, I shall be whole, or say,  
Thou shalt with me in Paradise be this day.  
What's always, everywhere, and all believe  
Is truth, and only truth, which can't deceive:  
Where is't? unravel ages, all times read;  
Since truth is one, why thus are none agreeed?  
Schisms gilded weathercocks all must pass for gold,  
While the world truths lights doth in dark lanterns hold.  
Men to th' Meridian of their flesh and blood,  
Religion Calculate; profit names it good.  
See each Divine is but an Advocate,  
As if Religion were temporal state:  
They with illusion, forgeries, for it plead,  
●…nd do't like Lawy'rs, only to be feeed  
For what they plead, yet none can call their right;  
They for Religion do without it wrire.  
Witty impieties do the Scriptures reach:  
Like the Tyrant who to's bed did wretches stretch;  
Too long for cruel purposes, they slice:  
Too short they wrack confession of their vice,  
That truth can never vary, all agree:  
Yet all place truth in their variety.    

On the Moster's of the Science of defence in controversy.  

EAch Father sure's a Janus, two ways looks▪  
One face Reformers have, one Papists Books.  
Do they by follies issues their names gain?  
They father spurious is●…ues of each brain:  
Now to th' Protestant tuned, now Roman Key,  
Do Echo like to every voice obey:  
Ah! Echo-like yield an imperfect sound  
Which can't instruct a knowledge, but confound,  
Whence most polemic truths as clearly note,  
As th' Lover's Mistress face in a wainscot:  
Or Wittingtons' Maiorship by a chime of bells,  
Which seem to tune to all wild fancy tells.  
What though the Ruhets in the Roman head  
Some truth's obstructed, is the bod●… dead?  
Or cause not uniform, must no union be?  
Belief in one Christ sure speaks unity.  
Though various Colours in Christ's Coat be knit,  
They make no seam, nor cause a schism in it.  
But these are soldiers which do pierce Christ's side,  
Cast lots for's Vesture, and his Court divide.  
See in a mighty bulk their volumes swell!  
Heaven's way is narrow; sure these lead to Hell.  
Homonymas wave, and skirmishing with words,  
Or shadow fights, see what each book affords.  
You these Tostati may with ease outvie  
With a slight single sheeted Mercury:  
Their tumid bodies only serve to tell  
Poison within is, thus can make them swell.    

Jesuite.  

SEE, see the subtle texture of each line!  
The Spider spins her curious web less fine.  
Th'Spider infusing poison, thus takes th'Fly,  
While in her web she weaves her destiny.  
Beware of th'Net which from a Spider came;  
Nor for the light of heaven mistake hell's flame:  
Like sacred bellows they the soul may blow,  
Whether to make it to Contrition glow,  
And zealous fervour, or to subtilise,  
And make't to flames of Contemplation rise.  
But ah! with soul on contemplation's wing,  
Most deal as boys with birds do in a string;  
Draw down on seeds of error for to feed,  
Or by officious handling make to bleed.  
A spark of heaven devotion may inspire;  
Contentions flames are kindled at hell's fire.    

The Church.  

TH' King's Daughters garment may discoloured be,  
Yet Schism's not made by th' variety.  
Embroidered with good wo●…ks Christ's Spouse must go,  
Wrinkle nor spot in Conversation show.  
Where shadows do increase, the Sun declines;  
Yet there will shadows be where the Sun shines.  
Forms of Religion, where there is a light,  
Where all is shadow, and no shadows night.  
But oh while most 'bout Forms poor shadows fight,  
They Charity lose, which is religion's light.  
Who by disputes are drunk, and passions vexed,  
Cast at Antagonists heads what they meet next.  
The wildfire of Contention they increase,  
And not by th'Milk of th'Word it cause to cease.  
Who's Pious, he is Orthodox; who loves sin,  
He heretic is: God nor his Church shares in.  
Happy whose lives 'gainst errors do dispute;  
Good lives convert, bad tongues can never do't.  
Ith'Catholick house Churches like Sisters dwell:  
Can Sisters Sisters for each brawl expel?  
Men in each Church have Truth enough to save.  
And to damn Angels enough Malice have.    

The polemic Protestant D.  

Truth's more calcining Recollects o'er-read,  
To cure Truths wounds, Truth they afresh make bleed.  
Itch of Dispute, the Scab of th'Church doth breed:  
How comes Truth for a Champion falsehood need?  
It from Contagion sprung, their country's Plague,  
A Wickliff, Husse, and malcontents of Prague:  
Waldo's Disciples, Albingenses too,  
Must to the Muster of truth's Champions go.  
Thus Homer to see Truth was lent strange eyes,  
And Virgil taught for to evangelise.  
What though in Tenets all do disagree?  
In opposition of one Church they be.  
Churches like floating Islands in the Sea,  
Carried on th'giddy waves of Vanity:  
How wisely for your Hierarchy you plead,  
Your Church to raise, who Church defacer's need?  
Who laid in Common Sacred and profane,  
To hedge these in, could you some Church-ground gain?  
By th'Woman in the Wilderness understood,  
As wisely as New-England Brotherhood.  
Christian, not Pagan Rome, must Babylon be,  
From Babylonish garments are you free?  
Where Rome is Babylon, all your Orders hence,  
They're Antichristian in a Brownists sense.  
Rare art, to tie truth fast, twist ropes of sand,  
Which every air of Fancy may disband.  
If Christ's Coa●… no Seam, Church can't Schism admit,  
Ah then consider how your Knot you knit!  
From what they hate, none think too far they run;  
On rocks of error fail, while shelves they shun.    

The Pres●…yter.  

CAlvin and Viret, rare men, calculate  
Religion to their Purses, and a State.  
Churches, like Dens of thieves, enriched by stealth,  
A rare Utopia, Plato's Commonwealth.  
And Scotia which from darkness takes her name,  
Doth by her nature now improve the same.  
The airy Presbyter tuned to Geneva Jig,  
Th'Scotch Bagpipe is with wind, not wisdom big.  
Of Reformation all th'arch butchers read,  
Truth's garment, botcher-like, for Hell they shred.  
Peruse each Town, when you each Priest have tried,  
You'll find they People well as Texts divide.  
Hotchpotch, made up twixt Jews and Turks,  
Cry destiny, are Abraham's sons without his works.  
He's by Election one who it believes:  
Sure God loves fruit, and not hypocrisis leaves.  
Oh may you sons be doing God's commands  
With Jacobs' voice, have no more Esau's hands.  
These Jews the light they boast of Lord reveal,  
May it shine out more than in Glow-worm zeal.  
The suffering Martyrs in th'Apocalyps now,  
These two were Bishops; Can you them allow?  
Or did you know that Elders Bishops were?  
The names of th'Beast should now your forehead bear.  
These were the grapes these Foxes could not reach,  
Which made them call them sour, against them preach.  
The Elders and Susanna surely be  
No less than of Presbytery prophecy.  
God's Church a garden, Word's a spring therein;  
Susanna soul, which there is washed from sin:  
Lust in the garden there doth Elders place,  
The soul would ravish, and God's stamp efface.  
While Cit and Priest, folly and knavery twine,  
And a Scotch Primer must a shop book line:  
Because deceit and lying is their trade,  
Think nothing can be truth that ages said:  
Nothing believe, but what's ith'stories writ  
Of their own folly, squares to cock-brained wit.  
The Priest from's nest unplumed, and callow hops,  
Not learned above the gibberish of the shops.  
Both serve seven year, and both with same intent,  
That they false ware in darker shops may vent.  
Having defiled his nest, unfledged chirps here,  
Opening his sparrow mouth from ear to ear.  
Hence all Religion is in mouth or ear;  
'Tis not Religion to do good, but hear.  
Yet see the wondrous fruit of't, though they teach,  
None to act good, they have learned all to preach.   

Resume thy black garb, wretch, it may be fit  
To mourn your los●…e of Tithes, and loss of wit.  
Canonical Belt, sure wisdom, to you tied;  
Ungirt, unblessed, wisdom and Fortune slide.    

Prophanum vulgus. The People.  

TH'Rabble's an echo made twixt Knave and Fool,  
To work his ends, the politicians tool:  
While he the devil's quilted anvil is,  
On which he frames all that we find amiss.  
Divide and Rule; these fox's heads divide  
Best for Combustion, by the tails they're tied:  
While th'routs a number there will errors be,  
From God recession, who is Unity.  
Who from the first simplicities teach them swerve,  
Give them but bread of life to make them starve.  
Most Nature call what custom is of sin,  
Virtue, not Vice, Nature implants within;  
Lest it be done to them to do no ill:  
Love, which the Law and Gospel doth fulfil;  
We leave the things, and about names make strife,  
Nature exalted is a Christians life.  
But oh from th'silver forge Diana comes:  
Religious forms are stamped to Coin new sums,  
Minted by passion, profit seduced zeal;  
All must be damned, deny what they reveal.  
Yet sure when Justice up her scales doth hold,  
For the forms sake these take no lighter gold.  
Lord, let us strive thy Image for to bear;  
The gold can ne'er be light, thy Image there.  
From th'dross of sin it must refined be,  
Nor light with lusts can we take form from thee.    

On servile Will, irrespective Election and Reprobation.  

AByss of brightness, to whom light's a screen,  
Who by not being visible, best art seen.  
Time is no time, if relative to thee:  
Even an eyes twinkling's all Eternity.  
Can he with whom all's present, pre-ordain?  
Or what place for thy prescience can remain▪  
Less then a moment did the whole world make;  
To understand it we need six days take;  
And the seventh day thy goodness to admire,  
Which in six thousand year we can't acquire:  
Six thousand years are as six days to thee,  
And the seventh day eternal jubilee.  
What stranger stories, Lord, of thee we tell,  
While we meet Infinite with reason's ell?  
If that I have no power, or a decree  
Before or Will or Act hath manacled me?  
Do this, and live, God says, who cannot lie;  
If that I cannot do't, he bids me die▪  
Can God design a treachery 'gainst mankind?  
Give him more light to make him the more blind▪  
Sin is defined what's contrary to God's will;  
Yet abridge ours, and he's the cause of ill.  
What God doth preordain, sure his will is:  
If then the sin be done, the sin is his.  
Thus nothing's left us to deliberate,  
But follow th'duct of stars, obey out fate.  
When sin's no longer sin, than it is free:  
Who's guilty, or o●…dain'd, can't avoided be.  
Sin that is contrary thus they make God's will;  
God to himself make contrary by ill.  
Hath God two Wills, one secret, one revealed?  
Good in appeara●…ce, is he ill concealed?  
Yet these who made God but in outside good,  
Themselves for more than beasts ne'er understood.  
They rational faculties do deny of th'Soul,  
Who Will and Understanding do control.  
If that we act not freely, where's our will?  
How understand we? if we can't fly ill.  
Like hoary and Mule, we're held in with a bit,  
Take will, and virtue's essence, gone with it.  
Persuasions, terrors, laws, are thus made vain,  
Where all are bound up in a fatal chain.  
Thus in this age we through excess of light  
Bring on ourselves more than Egyptian night.  
Though God made all, sin's a non entity.  
By making sin thus nothing, God they'd free.  
But oh! if nothing? why's man damned for th'same?  
Damnation sure for nothing never came?  
As from the Turks for fate they take advice,  
They dream like theirs sure, carnal paradise.  
Lord, thou whose paths in deep, and way's ith'sea,  
If I can't thee contain, contain thou me.  
By passing understanding, understood,  
Know that thou only art, and only good.    

Sectaries.  

SEE of fanatic fowlers a fresh shoal,  
With baits of Liberty who decoy the Soul,  
Copernicism these by their whimsies prove;  
Where all are giddy, how can the Earth not move?  
Schisms weathercocks, with every wind turn round:  
That faith's as light as air which hath no ground.  
chameleon like with every object change,  
Whose faith is fancy, how can he choose but range?  
Snails of all Heresies which contract the slime;  
Sponges which suck in all the dregs of time:  
Mix with the puddle of their fancy's wine  
Of sacred writ, entitle sin Divine;  
Honying their poison, sugaring o'er their sin:  
Without an Angel, Devil is within.  
All these adulterers o●… Sacred writ,  
Each doth a Concubine to his fancy fit.  
A various gloss, on which his fancy set,  
A spurious brood of Sectaries doth beget.  
All 'gainst Idolatry cry; yet all approve,  
While they the Idols of their Fancies love.    

enthusiastics.  

What lust and pride spontaneous Devils do,  
Must that the Spirit of God inspire in you?  
Who doing ill, says th'Spirit acts within,  
Surely he's one can consecrate his sin.  
God's Spirit in still winds, not storms doth vent,  
In flames of zeal, not flames of malcontent.  
The primitive Christians weapons Prayers and Tears▪  
Truths two-edged sword instructs, not cuts off ears.  
Like Daemoniack, most are used to speak  
Out of their bellies, most of our sounds break.  
Zeal of God's word was unto David meat;  
Zeal of God's word is now the zeal to eat.  
The zeal of God's house the Prophet up did eat;  
You'd eat God's houses up, your zeal's so great.  
To Abram sons, Lord, who canst rear from stone,  
Though they a stone Church hate, these stones make one▪    

Beraean.  

DArkness rewards him who in th'Ark would pry;  
Who peeps in heaven for light may blinded die.  
Faith is an eye which blessedly is blind;  
Which in its blindness doth all knowledge find.  
A hand on ea●…th, which stretched to God in heaven,  
Whence all the treasures are of knowledge given.  
Where Reason's blind, Faith prospectives should lend▪  
Where lame, Faith Reason must with wings befriend.  
Though th'Elephant may swim, and Lamb here wade;  
Approach not scripture, till a Lamb you're made.  
Pretend not th'white stone shall be given to thee,  
Not white like Lamb, but black by nocency.  
'Tis unity in faith, orderly zeal,  
And active Charity, that must heaven reveal.  
Yet in devotion if thou art sincere,  
Thou'rt in the porch, rejoice, thy heaven is near,  
Without the practic part, the Theory's vain:  
Let airy mysteries ne'er unhing thy brain.  
On th' Temple pinnacle should thee Belial perch,  
To God thou'rt neither nearer, nor his Church.  
He'll say thou canst not dash against a stone,  
Yet every harder question's to thee one:  
He'll plead by Scripture, tell thee of a Crown  
He seeks to rob; doth raise to cast thee down.  
To thee the good thou readest doth not relate,  
When thou dost read but into life translate.    

Fiduciary.  

BElieve, only believe, thou'rt safe; if true:  
If this enough! what action need I do?  
For if assurance be a good estate,  
To it, from it distinct, need life relate?  
If my estate be safe, if not can lies  
To make me happy, by belief suffice?  
If faith, before repentance justify?  
Since I am safe, need I on it rely?  
It to th' continuance cannot more relate  
Then inchoation of so good estate.  
In vain with Jews you Abraham Father call,  
He knows you not, know not his works at all.  
God can raise Abram Children out of stones,  
Yet flints without their fire he never owns.  
Their zeal must flame, light of good works must shine,  
Nought without heat and light can be divine;  
'Cause faiths of things invisible, think you  
Faith without works invisible's only true?  
If strong imagination faith must be?  
Magic will prove the best divinity.    

In multiplicem Schismatis Hydram. Universal Leprosy.  

SEe! how the schisms in nations do attrive  
A florent age, by wa●…s and ruins thrive.  
View how th' astonished world, doth silent sit,  
Wondering how Leprosy hides the face of it!  
Dreaming like Constantine that an innocents blood  
Could Lepers cure, baths in a purple flood.  
Swords carve no way to heaven, there is no spell  
In guns 'gainst spirits; nor no charms 'gainst hell.  
The thundering Legion entered heaven by prayer,  
This is the violence thieves gives entrance there.  
Lilies and Roses both to Paradise come:  
Candid by innocence, and by martyrdom;  
Saints that are purpled, not by innocent blood:  
The Dragon belches forth that purple flood.  
Hear not the blood which doth like Abel's cry,  
Lord hear thy Sons, who did like Abel die.  
Thou canst the fury of the Sea assuage,  
Lord still these waters, stop the people's rage.  
Thou out of nothing couldst create a world,  
See't to a Chaos by confusion hurled.  
Who to make light didst on the waters move;  
Move on these waters and renewed by love.    

On the Umbraticall Doctors on the Romish party.  

HEll gates against the Church cannot prevail:  
Who e'er believed Christianity could fail?  
But 'cause in clouds, must therefore be no Sun?  
All truths in streams of Roman fancies run?  
Unto the end God will his Church assist.  
In what is needful, not fanatics list.  
If th' Pope Can't err, what need we counsels too?  
In vain 'tis done by more, what few can do.  
They who the Pope can't err would teach, believe  
Sure cheating others, can't themselves deceive;  
They write for heresy, Popes deposed may be:  
What needs the question, if all Popes were free?  
The Roman Church's particular, Catholic too:  
Surely the Roman Church not's one, but two.  
Their councel's, like the Pope, infallible be,  
Means or th' prophetic part from errors free.  
Hath fallible means infallible effects?  
Or what needs means, if th' spirit truth detects:  
Counsels can't err, if to them Pope's assent.  
Sure 'fore they're finished no confirmings meant.  
If falshood's there, can their assent make't true?  
If truth? 'tis so, should none assent thereto.  
These all like empty purses open wide;  
Yet nought within them, doth but air abide.    

On the fencers for Religion.  

THeir pens have swords been which the Church did wound,  
Whence all these scars are on her body found.  
polemics of Religion sure have writ,  
Not for the truth, but exercise of wit:  
While Scriptures, Fathers, counsels, they do wrest.  
As I name them, they use their names in jest.    

B. jewel.  

THough streams of light from jewels of lustre fly,  
Yet cracks, and flames meet the judicous eye:  
And though well polished, and not rudely set,  
Part of the Jewel seems but counterfeit.    

Doctor Whitaker.  

NOr from Whitaker doth the Church reap more,  
Where's some good Corn, there's some with tares run o'er.    

Doctor Field on the Church.  

ANd though the Church hath gained a whole Field  
With the best Corn, he doth some Cockle yield.    

Dr. White, Sir H. Lynd, Dr. Featley in answer to Lyndomastix.  

WHite may be black turned: Lind's not so well lined,  
That to his aid he need no Featly find.    

Master Perkins.  

What though a preacher Perk-in for the fight?  
If not to preach, he story wants to write.    

Doctor Usher  

Usher to Lady truth hath better been,  
Yet with black spots he brings her fair face in.    

Master Chillingworth against Knot.  

BUt Chilling's worth, of's enemy though hot,  
Is praise-worth, to untie a Gordian Knot.    

Master Brightman on the Revelation.  

IN Revelations though a Brightman trade,  
He many blinds, and none to see hath made.    

Master Mede.  

MEde hath some Honey, liquours like works, swells:  
Yet nought's 'bove froth of fancy, which he tells.    

Doctor Potter.  

POtter-like to his name in dirt doth trade;  
Yet to hold truth, he hath no verses made.    

Master Cotton.  

TO spoil good paper, make foul seroles i'th' same,  
'Tis pity in good ink bad Cotton Came.  
He silent, by wild notions all might guess,  
New England Church the Church i'th' wilderness.    

On Bishop Laud against Fisher.  

When future ages shall grow up to Laud,  
They'll give thy name it's due; & thee applaud.  
Rome's Fisher in thy See could cast no bait,  
But you secured the Fish from the deceit.  
The Fisher struck grew wise; and silent too:  
The Fisher like the fish, made mute by you.  
The Spouse with decent rites, and order moved,  
Her body had proportion to be loved:  
In various coloured garments, didst her bring  
With Ceremonies glorious to her King.  
Thou reformation's rude draught up didst fill,  
And Primitive ex'llence Copy by thy skill.  
At peace Jerusalem in herself seemed one;  
And like Byzantium walls an entire stone.  
But now the Pastor's gone, the sheep do stray,  
To Romish Wolves, and schism tick fox's prey.  
Churches like Leda's twins do rise and set,  
Like poor men's lands by theft, do patches get;  
Swinish perfections all is aimed at now,  
Parmeno-like to g●…untle like a sow:  
Apocryphal Priests teach no Canonical truth,  
Who any learns 'tis out of th' book of Ruth.  
Unhappy men safe virtue we despise,  
Too late complain grown by our losses wise.    

On Doctor Hammond.  

Seraphic Doctor, bright Evangelist,  
Great light dispelling errors darker mist:  
Thou lendest no phrantique zeal; fanatic fire  
To blaze Contention, kindle loose desire;  
No fiery Luther's, no rash Calvins' zeal,  
Who scarce love truths Antagonists reveal;  
The knots of riddling destiny dost undo,  
To clear the scriptures, and God's justice too:  
Thou mak'st the way so plain that fools can't err:  
Others their own, thou be truths interpreter.  
Thou to the Revelation lendest a Key,  
Where every word is thought a mystery.  
Fanatic Cotton, Brightman, Napier, Mede,  
To understand themselves a Comment need.  
Thou clearest the Roman Sea, yet woundest her more  
●…hen those in blood drenched, made her th' scarlet whore.  
●…e who some truths seeks, to advance by lies,  
Against all truth, bold error fortifies:  
Could Hippo's Bishop now survive, he'd be  
Retracting still, not to detract from thee,  
The learned St. Bernard would turn pupil too:  
'Cause Bernard sees not all he'd learn of you,  
Great Cyprians Master might thy scholar be;  
And think himself less paraclete than thee.  
Thou twixt a Stephen and Cyprian might'st decide.  
Who texts canst open, yet not hearts divide;  
Oreteeming zeal a heresy to refute,  
Hath warped a passionate Father to't.  
Let others prize truths armour for the rust,  
Love for the serpent's sake, not truths but dust;  
While streams of life fanatic phrantique mud  
Thou clearest, and mak'st truths face there understood;  
Thou hast no Helena whom thou needest to fence,  
Which to secure dost Castrate scripture sense.  
Fools with the two edged sword themselves do wound:  
On truth's face scars make, which no Age mak'st sound,  
But our seraphic Doctor clears the word,  
Secures the tree of life with th' flaming sword;  
enthusiastics boast this age's light;  
Had they but Hammon known, who could deny't.  
The curse of thorns, sure spinous questions be  
The Cherub knowledge, that must guard life's tree.    

To a Lawyer who said, though men might speak against those that are called gospelers, none justly against them were called Lawyers.  

Who canting learn, do only mean to cheat;  
Sure law's in gibberish clothed, for deceit.  
Amerc'ments made to fright the i●…le suit,  
Have thrived so well, that they invite unto't.  
Natura brevium sure is lost, for we  
Nothing in nature can but long suits see.  
An Habeas Corpus waits on every suit;  
A suits worth nothing, if no body's to't.  
Suits for Westminster, now so numerous are;  
Nor Judge nor Lawyer can them all outwear.  
For council-coin; and countenance men disburse;  
They satisfy revenge, and not their purse.  
Both writs, and Courts of error are so many,  
Take away these, and Law scarce admits any.  
What though your Cook up all the Law doth dress?  
He makes a French Harsh, of a Harsh French mess;  
The Laws a two edged sword by which men play,  
And with their art, make it wound either way;  
To tenter out their fancy, they stretch Law:  
Wrack the name Lawyers, you'll find liars awe.  
My pen wants ink, state-tetters for to cure,  
Nay th' ink writ Magna Charta, health procure.    

On Magna Charta.  

THe Judge that others doth by Law condemn,  
Against himself a sentence gives in them.  
The bench is silenced, even by Common Pleas;  
The Judge himself, may have a Writ of ease,  
Removed to th' King's bench from the Common Pleas;  
The Cook himself, confessed he lost his fees.  
Against himself the justice swears the peace;  
His office or his Conscience must cease;  
There s no Aturney doth procure a writ,  
But ea ad sat. against him is in it.  
And Jack who most for Magna Charta pleads,  
Bleareyed with prejudice there no sacrilege reads.  
With knowing loyalty who have optics strung,  
If they have eyes to see, must have no tongue?  
Must th'people have their right, no Churchmen theirs?  
Sure wicked grown, of th'Promise they're no heirs.  
The benefit of their Clergy pray them give,  
They may grow better, and deserve to live.  
The Law is Reason, but can it be had▪  
Men passionate grown, Passion is Reason mad.  
And oh for th'Rout, who do the Law unsheathe,  
May to mad men a naked sword bequeathe.    

The Character of loyal Friendship: To his honoured Coz. Euseby Petsant.  

HE's free, who's wife, to ●…ule himself doth know:  
Conquered, by patience conquer can his foe:  
Whom enemies serve to polish, rust off file;  
Envy's rust eats not in, or makes more vile.  
These flails serve only husks off for to beat,  
And to heaven's granary render purer wheat;  
More fertile grows, like to the bleeding Vine;  
In fortune's night, star-like doth brighter shine.  
Thoughs' Masters fort's be lost, retains one still  
Of brass within: is conscious of no ill.  
Though fortune's Tennis ball yet mounts on high,  
Cast on the earth, from thence to heaven doth fly:  
Grows best i'th' shade, like the triumphant Bay,  
And green with virtue doth his boughs display.  
The frost of th'times to this Corns nutriment turns,  
Who like a torch that's beaten, brighter burns:  
Can smile at all the Pageantry of vice;  
Poor virtue happier think, with her own price.  
To Velvet Cushions no devotion pay;  
Knows straw within, though their outsides be gay.  
In giddy Tumults doth engage no friends,  
Whom servile fear betrays, or baser ends.  
Will neither Protest, Covenant, or engage,  
Or sacrifice Conscience to the Rabbles rage.  
Though the people waters th'wiseman is a Rock,  
Unmoved doth th'fury of the waters mock.  
Pleas of Religion doth no Hackney make,  
To carry lusts, and ti●…'d doth them forsake.  
Nor lured unto the fancy of the times,  
To profit stoops, adopting others crimes.  
Happy 'bove th'Lord, who plays at petty game  
Rather than sit out, sits and votes his shame:  
Whose presence for a testimonial serves;  
No house can lower be than he deserves.  
Who sacrifice Reason to success, must rear  
To Fortune Altars, pay devotion there.  
In History no trifler but doth know  
At virtue's root, Envy a Worm doth grow.  
An Aristides, Photion, Greece exiles;  
Corialan and Scipio, Rome despoils.  
'Tis Kingly to do good, and suffer ill:  
Since 'tis a Royal mode retain it still.  
Kiss but the rod, your father leaves his ire;  
Correction past may cast it in the fire.  
It doth but humble on your knees you bring,  
And from an earthly teach to serve heaven's King.  
Of all your servants have the times left one?  
Who serves himself, served best, and hath got none.  
Scorn scurrilous plaints; no mouth-granadoes vent  
'Gainst foes; above them placed, while you're content.  
Who wants not that, which wanting, nature grieves  
Can't want, each one as much hath, as believes.  
Who to desire hath nought, nought to admire,  
Th' Magnifico on State Pyramids plac'd's not higher.  
A Centuple retribution waits his loss,  
Whom faith can teach 't imparadise a cross.  
On fortune's Rack we easily life despise;  
Broke on her Wheel, who smiling suffer 's wise▪    

To the Son of the late King.  

RUle o'er thyself, the world's Epitome;  
Then Charles the Great, thus thou Mayst greater be.  
Not second Charles, but second unto none;  
Not where he lost, gain where he gained a Throne.  
See sixty Scottish Kings purpled with blood:  
To be beast like for sacrifice crowned, is't good?  
I lift each day a hand for thee in prayer:  
To raise thee up by blood, I none can rear.  
Of one days' rule, a Tyrant hear complain,  
Him happy call, dined, and resigned again.  
Hear a fourth Henry tell his son, a Crown,  
Did he but know the weight, he'd slight it down.  
Who carries loads on'shead, must eu'nly go;  
And they who gain them Crowns, had need do so.  
O who would wish a loaden Asses pack?  
Yet Honour galls, more than it galls the back.  
The world's magnificoes all day laden are;  
With Conscience galled, to ground at length repair.  
The world abounds with men that do abound;  
That knows to do it, scarce a man is found.  
Transported pride doth God forget by pelf,  
Her neighbour Avarice, th'Prodigall himself.  
Hence ith'worlds' bucket, like the Captives wheel,  
As one goes up, another down doth reel.  
Honour's a shadow, interpose a cloud,  
And a perpetual darkness doth it shroud  
In chase, then purchase we more pleasing find,  
Too great for bodies, little for the mind:  
Less than we'd have, more than to use we know,  
So both superfluous, and defective too.  
In valour, strength, and Allies, who would trust,  
Which Diamond▪ like are cut by their own ●…ust.  
What's built on smoke, how can it lasting be?  
The world's Foundation's laid in Vanity.  
See Otho fall, First Charles resign a Throne,  
That eaglelike he may mount heaven for one:  
Though like a King of Jews, thou thorns dost wear,  
Rejoice with him, thy kingdom is not here.  
'Bout names we trifle, and forget the thing:  
Wouldst be a slave to slaves? Then be a King.    

News for News to a degenerate Cavalier.  

GEneva Brotherhood are turned Cavaliers;  
Scot-like they'll leather guns make of their ears.  
The Dutch of Butterboxes will a Navy make:  
If true, such ships as these they'll not forsake:  
Or some in healths say they'll carouse up seas;  
If so; to join with them will Roy'lists please.  
Low Countries can't want men as some do fear;  
One there had Children for each day of th'year.  
The Spanish too, with whiskers will invade,  
Each hair is forked, worse than a two▪ edged blade:  
The gallant French come too with braver shapes;  
The English at first sight they'll change to Apes.  
What though the King in England Castles wants,  
Morocco's King on elephant's Castles plants:  
And for a Present, Castles manned will send:  
we'll Castles too ith'Aire build, shall befriend.  
The world ith'Moon too lately is found out,  
It will with lunatics join, we need not doubt.  
With fire from heaven thus Dover's in our power;  
The Thames we'll turn to flames, shall burn the Tower.   

Is your Cause good? the primitive weapons take,  
Of prayers and tears a thundering Legion make.  
You every 〈◊〉 in oaths could breathe a prayer  
With noise and threats, as if yours Thunder were.  
Fools, who cast darts'gainst heaven, fell on th'Kings head:  
Meek Lamb, for your sins he was offered.  
Then times nor manners cry, but for your own  
Bad manners such bad times had ne'er been known.  
Whose heir to land, he must be heir to wit:  
Fools fortune have, but wise men guardian it.  
The fool's seed in his tail, wise man in's brain:  
Thus wise men fools, and fools wise children gain.  
The sons of Bulrushes, lechery of each fool,  
Thus o'er your fortunes, and o'er you must rule.  
Boast not of Titles, nor of generous blood;  
What virtue gained, lose virtue; they're not good.    

To a degenerate thing falsely called A NOBLE.  

FIe! fie! Can nothing noble speak, 'bove oaths,  
Or th'Apish varnish of some modish Clothes?  
Or to learn Jockey phrase, dialect of th●…hound?  
Whose virtue, like your own, is all in sound.  
Or can distinguish Lanner, Lanneret,  
Falcon, Jarfalcon, Gosshawk, and cry Ret;  
Hares start, dear rouse, that Partridge sprung is knows,  
What Woodcocks be by's nose that's cup flushed shows;  
Or to unkennel Fox can wisely tell:  
Rare Gentleman highly bred, though scarce can spell,  
And writes his Name in Text, with such a paw,  
You'd swear 'twas catechised with the devil's claw.  
Or th'Country air's too dull, he must to th'Burse  
Of Blasphemy, irreligions' Nurse;  
Where's not a look but's baited for to cheat,  
And not a tongue but's oiled for deceit.  
Of's Families blood carousing cups here fill,  
And bids it die, while he his Die throws ill.  
Where theft's unpunished, pleasing murders be,  
Got in a crowd of sin mad amity:  
Or turns a City chemist, di●…t refines  
To gold; in manors, not Manners shines.  
Taking a pattern b●… the Lord mayors show,  
Trimmed gay, and like a Pag●…ant gilt doth go:  
Whom Law finds out before on it he looks,  
Gains all his knowledge by his mercer's books.  
Or peeps in France brave man, where he's no spy;  
In riddling Statists Mysteries scorns to pry:  
Yet re●…urns Ape transformed Al-a-mode,  
With pedlar's gibberish, and a pedlar's load.  
Or in antipathy gets the Spanish shrug,  
And looks as grave as th'man ith'Alehouse jug:  
Answers by nods, the stupid would seem grave;  
Who nothing vents, must a strange fullness have.  
The silent ass might Lord ith'lions' skin,  
But when he brayed, all knew an ass within.  
Affected gesture, and a sourer look,  
With graver voice, for wisdom would be took.  
And peep up Statesman, though the wiser dead  
Were ne'er of's Counsel, nor hath th'living read.  
These are the Comets reared from th'fat of earth,  
Presage King's ruin, and the People death.    

A Character of a complete Gentleman. To John Cotton Esq Heir to the Knowledge and Virtue, as well as to the Honour and Fortunes of his Ancestors. To his Coz. George Boswel Esq rich in Desert as Fortune.  

THou to the lame art legs, eyes to the blind,  
They their own wants in thy perfections find.  
Thou pluckest no houses down, to rear thy own;  
The poor God's houses rear'st out of thy stone.  
Thou to the poor giv'st bread, even out of stone;  
And not to him who asks bread, givest one.  
Thy door is open, and thy heart so too;  
Hast both enough, and heart enough to do.  
Thou not inclosest to fence out the poor,  
But an enclosure art to keep their store.  
Sheep eat no men, thy men thy sheep do eat;  
In tears of others wilest not stew thy meat.  
To dogs the children's bread thou dost not give,  
Make thy dogs fat, scarce let thy servants live.  
Thy father gives thee dirt, thou mak'st it gold,  
Virtue refines it to a better mould.  
Gold the sun's child thou letest the father see,  
That it may make a child of light of thee.  
Thou braggest no stem; think'st vice improves no blood,  
Should vice or taint, or virtue speak not good.  
For Honour, Conscience dost not put to sale;  
Or thy Religion steer by profits gale.  
Imbib'st no dregs even in these lees of time,  
A licenc'd ill canst think no lesser crime.  
Thou drinkest no health for to impair thy own,  
By th'cup▪ hushed face think'st noble blood not shown.  
By no rash humour swellest the kingdom's spleen,  
From whose bulk th'leanness hath of th'body been.  
Where he who gains no Idol for his lust,  
An Idol Fancy gets of Cits on trust.  
While profit's th'Prophet that doth teach it there,  
Religion showed by darker shops like ware.  
These not th'world only, but think God to cheat,  
Forge some new light, he's theirs by the deceit.  
These take not thee, nor those Hawks towering prize,  
While they can grovel in impurities.  
Thy Reason is a Hawk, which takes a flight,  
As if she'd nest her in a Sphere of light.   

What would a nurse more for her child heaven woo,  
Then to have good, know how to use it too.    

Nobility ennobled. A Character of the most excellent Marquis of Dorchester, Earl of Kingston, The Lord Pierrepont.  

IN honour's Sphere thou like a Sun art shown,  
Impartest light, yet not impair'st thy own.  
The Poets Phoebus, and Physicians too,  
Nay ev●…n Church lights have influence from you.  
They who laid hands on others for to preach,  
On them th'time's hands lay for to silence teach.  
Thy hands relieve the mischief others do;  
They're strangely tongue-tied cannot speak of you.  
No gilt-tongued Lawyer but doth plead for thee;  
When thou'rt but named, he hath his Angel fee.  
Physicians 'bove Catholicon thee quote,  
'Gainst times infection their best antidote.  
Thou readest the living, yet neglectest not th'dead,  
Hast both in Books and Skeletons them o'er read.  
But oh th'rich incense of each virgin prayer,  
While parents virtues now made dowries are!  
Stream to posterity honour in thy blood,  
What vice nor th'time's Contagion taints, is good.  
Plastered with blood no house on ruins built,  
With others gold reared up, but thy own gilt.  
'Bove Constellations may thy Coronet shine:  
Honour herself is honoured being thine.  
Who the lost ciphers th'house of Lords complains,  
While that perfections sum in thee remains.    

On Thomas Lord Wentworth Earl of STRAFFORD.  

SAy not the Army took the kingdom's head,  
For Charles in Strafford a long time was dead.  
The King with his own hand himself did slay:  
The hand took Straffords, took his head away.  
How could his head upon his shoulders stand,  
Gave leave to take th'best head-piece in his Land?  
None durst to knowledge Strafford dead pretend;  
Wisdoms Monopoly with his head did end.  
With the Wentworth; ah worth with thee was fled!  
Ireland no venom, Strafford living bred,  
Nor England Wolves, which could her sheep devour,  
They placed him, would have placed them, in that Tower.  
The silly sheep a league with wolves would make,  
They ask their dogs, dogs gone, their lives they take.  
Nor wanted Strafford guilt, though wanted Law;  
He for his death, did his own warrant draw;  
He drew the heads, took his; his case the same,  
He gave himself the stab in Buckingham:  
When he cried charge him high, should the Law fail,  
The rabble that knows no Law will prevail.  
Nor thrive they better his black Curtain draw,  
They since have found necessity hath no Law.  
May none with greatness surfeit that succeed,  
And for state physic be prescribed to bleed.  
Whence the bloody issue, hath run twelve year,  
Lord let it stop while we by faith draw near.    

Summum jus summa injuria in jure regni.  

GOld Crowns are coined by steel, and stamped by might,  
Thus the Saxons, Danish, Normans, Tudors' right.  
The Roman Eagles ceased on their prey;  
Their talons swords were carved the empire's way.  
'Twas steel that gave the Spaniard all his gold:  
By's Bilbo blades he doth his Indies hold.  
To edge blunt tools the Priest talks of the word.  
'Tis steel that conquers, not the two edged sword.  
The Ottoman Moon had else been in the wane;  
Refulgent steel doth it new lustre gain.  
The greatest injury is the greatest right:  
Yet out of darkness God creates a light,  
While Greece did make a Conquest of the world,  
She with her arms her arts about it hurled.  
Civility did with Roman Eagles fly;  
To Tames a way to learn civility.  
Who Conquers bodies, may he Conquer Minds;  
And leave us men whom he like wild beasts finds.  
Though he a Kingdom gains, we shall lose none;  
When every man doth in himself gain one,  
Who is no prop to a declining throne,  
Sins 'gainst his Kings in Earth, in heaven his own,  
He's traitor helps a traitor to a Throne,  
Yet who resists him on it may be one;  
Martlets and Capets treasons thrones acquired;  
Yet both so well ruled France, thought both inspired.  
A petty notary ruled so well in Rome  
The time of the golden Age, did th' name assume.  
Otho may sacrifice 'f all for public good;  
Good with ten thousands losse's no right of blood.    

On Poverty.  

What art thou poverty, thou so much art fled  
Christ spoused thee living, us bequeathed thee dead:  
Ambition never tenters thee on racks;  
No vulture gnaws thy heart; plot thy brain cracks;  
No emulous rival hast; no hollow friend;  
Dost in the place thou'rt born securely end:  
By healthful hunger sauced meats happy be;  
No table made a snare by gluttony;  
By neighbouring floods savest charges of excise;  
Drink which the wise makes fools, can make thee wise!  
No Dropsies fear'st; no Gout; nor no Catarrh;  
Palate with body ne'er Commences war;  
Thy body and thy Conscience both are clear;  
Hast nothing here to hope, or aught to fear,  
No man to cut this shrub down, his axe whets;  
Nor a self-wounding Conscience by regrets.  
While others sport of winds; hoist into th'deep,  
Along the shore he doth securely keep.  
The Ostridgs body hindereth her wings,  
While such a lark mounts up, with ease and sings.  
Who desires little, he thinks little much;  
Such as desires are, even our Riches such.  
What dead thou canst enjoy, alive despise.  
Who sets his heart on others goods, not wise.  
For this, ah this Princes changed Crowns for Cells;  
He's crowned with joy; with whom contentment dwells.    

The pleasures of the world.  

Wise men's desires which of their souls are sails,  
Should steer to Heav●…n; while sighs send thifher gales;  
And down on appetites like to fishes look;  
Which run at rotten worms which hide a hook;  
Begot of sense, which like abortives die;  
With shame and grief season satiety;  
Dreams which disturbance have, not rest of sleep:  
Various as Children sporting at Bo-peep.  
Of Sisyphus stone, or an Ixion's wheel,  
What Poets fancy, here we true may feel:  
Felicities are floating Islands which retire:  
As soon as we to touch them do desire,  
Of ere relapsing actious life's a toil;  
Where for one Rose, a thousand thorns us spoil.  
See how from walnuts troops of silly boys;  
Men pursue bubbles, end before their noise.  
Who said an egg the joys of th' world confined:  
Deceived not, though it broke, showed nought but wind.  
Joy only tickles th' outside of the skin:  
Sweet waters Seas of bitterness run in.  
What can we draw from th' world, but bubble swell,  
Break, vanish, Dives lend no drop in Hell.  
Pleasure's a wandering bird, doth singing sit,  
But flies away when you would catch at it.  
Would you of th' world, the greatest pleasure know,  
Pleasure condemn; it from contempt doth grow.    

A defence of Curiosity: an unsettled mind in unseled times; to weak calumny and proud ignorance.  

THE world is but a theatre of ill;  
Knaves, Fools, and madmen do the stage up fill;  
Religion the vizard is which most put on  
To act their parts; parts done, the visards gone.  
Which mimic gesture, and affected tone,  
Few personate the part that is their own.  
The shriveld'st old wretch, acts the giant's part:  
And the penned skull must th' magazine be of art.  
He's more than an Apollo that can show,  
T'en talk, preach, scribe of the things they know.  
For birds sure 'tis strange happiness to be hedged,  
There chirp and make a noise, before they're fledged;  
What though to pillory'd truth I rescue go,  
I this day books, the next I men would know;  
Undo myself lest I might be undone;  
There's Parthian like by flight, some victory won.  
What though I laugh at all, all laugh me:  
Democritus blind, more than an age could see.  
Eyes bloods hot red, Ictericks yellow spy;  
Who thinks the stars twinkle, 'tis his own weak eye▪  
Thus I read men and books, and have a key  
To each man's breasts, which is my Library.  
All natures giddy imperfections read  
Me lectures, and confirm in virtues Creed.  
More than the gamester, sees the slander by;  
This life's an art of casting of the die:  
The world's the inn, in which the cheaters meet,  
Scarce life a passage hath without deceit.  
If Proteus-like I each day vary shapes;  
To learn their natures 'tis, not imitate apes.  
Sponges with error swollen I use to squeeze,  
To know their filth, not drink in their disease.  
Though heat 'bove dog-days revels in my blood  
To quench the lust-scorched Lecher lend a flood.  
O'ercharged with liquour ne'er a sponge can spy  
That I with liquour want an o'ercharged eye.  
Yet none less than a Merlin must I fall?  
Fool's bolts are soon shot, must they wound me all?  
When pride and folly do in judgement sit,  
Can they vote less than treason in a wit?  
See the silly herd of animals raise a cry!  
Are pleased with th' noise they make, yet know not why;  
The birds which do in fortune's sunshine play,  
A storm impending, Croak and fly away.  
Dogs which with clamour flying heels pursue,  
Turn and their tails shall compliment with you.  
I change my friend, oft as I change my clothes;  
Who'd not love rags, which thus can take these moths.  
who's gay without, thought only rich within;  
Knowledge and folly's shrines no venial sin.  
Plato's to me for all hence giddy crowd,  
Under whose wings folly must only shroud.  
Vant wretch, whom nature huddled up in haste,  
And all thy wisdom in thy riches placed;  
At knowledge trial let her have her peers;  
Know justice some paint blind, none without ears.  
Would you in long Coats have all peep up sages;  
In gravity and wisdom bafling ages?  
I am too wise already, if that you  
To understand me gain not wisdom to,  
Plato's a friend, and Socrates is one,  
But truth is more a friend, who leaves me none.  
Could Bias that was wise deformed be?  
Or could be poor, that had philosophy?  
Empedocles knowledge would to heaven ally;  
I'll into stars for new alliance pry.  
Yet Thales-like, while I the stars do view,  
Not fall i'th' well, to make your proverbs true.  
Plato says, reason man discerns from beast;  
Must, Gryphin-like, I gold pile in a nest?  
Whereof thou hast no use, wretch hoard up pelf:  
He nothing hath, hath all, and not himself.  
To's Son, if wife, the cynic nothing gave;  
Wisemen all nature's treasuries open have.  
What though a rolling stone gathers no moss?  
For to be clogged with dirt's not gain, but loss.  
I make the way to truth smooth, while I roll;  
To keep dirt down, not gatherest use of soul,  
The creeping things of th' world are all below  
A wise man's thoughts, whose only end's to know;  
Not curious it desires, that he may know;  
Nor vain to flash; and to the world it show▪  
Nor covetous knowledge doth for profit seek,  
But edify himself, and build up th' week;  
inth Sea of th' world can he to steer right know,  
Hath only learned in some poor pond to row?  
Thus a rash Pilot doth to Sea resort,  
In winds, and waves of error to make sport;  
While the wise balanced with a richer freight,  
'Gainst storms of errors, counterpoised by weight.  
He should be wise a troubled Sea must enter,  
And well poised too all in one bark doth venture,  
But oh i'th' world no other art I find,  
Beside the tacking round with every▪ wind.    

The Character of a good widow. Memoriae sacrum Heroniae adeo exoptatissimae & medullitus dilectiss. materterae, Eliz. Boswel.  

Epitaphie.  
NEc vane dives, nec inani nomine nobilis,  
Eliz. Boswel hic sepulta jaceo;  
Divitibus specimen virtutis; viduis Continentiae;  
Providentiae matribus; & haec nimis  
Humanae inconstantiae speculum omnibus!  
Quam eximiae fui pietatis, disce à liberis;  
Quam diffusiva charitatis, audi à proximis:  
Quam inexplebilis munificentiae, & à meis qu●…re & ab alienis;  
Quam spectatae fui fidei; opera te instruunt;  
Quam famae adeo integrae, etiam hostes tibi indicant:  
x neque jam mussitet invidiae aut Calumnia obmurmaret.  
Quam intemeratae pudicitiae, non minus Casta  
Quam Cauta viduitas edocet;  
Primulae veris viduae, delicatulae, diviti,  
Mihi soli Conjux non occubuit senex;  
In quadrigâ liberorum charus aeque ac superstes:  
Quibus heu tandem, ut bonis omnibus, flebilis occidi;  
At nulli flebilior quam nepoti,  
Qui monumentum & luctus, & pietatis, hoc posuit.    

On the death of Mistress E. Kinesm, whom age had transformed to a skeleton.  

I Wonder not thou'rt dead, but how couldst live:  
Or to a skeleton why they burial give.  
Sure Pelican like to your own children food,  
You first your bowels gave, and then your blood.  
Or age refined thee, 'cause the way was straight,  
And took thy flesh, to fit thee for heaven gate.  
Or twindled to a Child, 'cause none must venture,  
But who's childlike, the heavenly Palace enter.  
They live long, who live well: what meets in you  
To live both long and well, is rarely true.  
A parent not in empty name, but care:  
Indeed a widow, yet no widow were,  
Your▪ husband in your love to him survived;  
Whose heart, flesh, life, was his, was he short lived?  
Who would your praises fully but indite,  
Doth need an Age, long as you lived, to write.    

To a painted Lady, a Calf spotted, lust's Idol, like the Idol of the Egyptians.  

MAdam, why so fair? why so foul?  
What can no less entrap a soul?  
Art acts adultery in your skin:  
When hell's without, ah what's within!  
Who would dote on painted bliss,  
Which melts away with every kis●…e?  
Or who would tie his love to hair?  
Make love like it the sport of air.  
The moon hath spots, and so have you;  
The emblems change, and you'll so too.  
Or you these foils for beauty wear,  
'Cause Venus some feign, moles made fair,  
Who gain a love, by seeming fair,  
Their love, and beauty like fate share:  
Love shifts, when you but shift your face:  
Or outcomes, when you teeth displace:  
Puppets which move by fancies wire,  
Let th' rich in fooleries desire:  
Think you each hair in curls a hook,  
Baited with powder fools are took.  
To me the powd'ring of the hair  
Makes you seem aged, and not fair.  
Or like a sheeps-head's wool doth show,  
Who mates you, for a ram must go.  
Black patches do betray defects:  
Beauty's best seen in her neglects.  
Cupid in black in your face spread,  
Mourns there for love and beauty dead.  
And your half Moon in this black veil,  
Shows you can change, though lustre fail.  
Or think you here Egyptians be,  
For th' spotted Calf may worship thee?  
An Ape is, though no Apis shown,  
Without your spots can make you one.  
I search no pedigrees, nor care  
Who owed your breath, or teeth, or hair:  
Yet though in breath we Saba meet;  
The smell's not well, smells always sweet.  
Though paint and plaistring may be gins  
To passengers, tempt to rotten inn.  
Ceruse nor Fucus e'er can move,  
Where Religion fixes love.  
'Tis neither marble, gold, nor paint,  
But the Adorer makes the Saint.    

To a Lady of Pleasure.  

CEase, Phryne, cease, leave off thy Charms,  
Leave the circling of thine arms.  
Each circle is a magic spell,  
Would Devils raise in flesh to dwell.  
who's passionate with wanton love,  
Unto himself a hell doth prove.  
By passions, Poets furies meant;  
Their snakes were sins, which men torment.  
Mischief with mischief's tangled in;  
The twines of snakes are ways of sin.  
Their skins are gay, but tails lodge stings;  
Thus are the pleasures Venus brings.  
These kiss like Judas, and betray;  
And Crocodile-like, both weep and ●…lay.  
Thus Teile trees yield a pleasing shade,  
But of their fruit's a poison made:  
Or Sodom's Apples, th'fruits of sin,  
Are fair without, and foul within.  
To fish for Souls, Lust's hells gilt bait,  
On which a sharper hook doth wait.  
Murder with Fornication twins;  
Murder ends, what Lust begins.  
The spurious issues of base wombs,  
Where they have li●…e receive their tombs.  
Lust from the best things venom makes;  
As th'Spider from th'best herbs it takes.  
Ensigns of peace translates to wars,  
Where Souls have wounds, and Honour scars.  
Her mouth streams honey, heart hath gall:  
Lust's sweets are thus embittered all.  
When lustful Amorists fires do name,  
Sure they anticipate here hell's flame.   

Who sin in's breast, a Devil keeps therein:  
But Madg'len like they seven lodge, lodge this sin.  
Where Lust doth enter it the strong man binds;  
It makes a Samson weak, and so him blinds.  
Here hairs are less than sins, lust takes the hair  
As it did Samson's, but the sin leaves there.  
In th'act of sin the tumid members tell  
Lust is a venom, which can make them swell.    

To his Lady Book.  

COme, Book, my Mistress, neither proud nor coy,  
The gay nor impudent Mymicks thee enjoy;  
Nor all the empty revelings of vice  
Ravish a sweetness, virtue's her own price:  
Thou shalt unlock me th'treasuries of the deep,  
For me earth's bosom shall her riches keep;  
Which to an heavenly quintessence I'll refine,  
As the last fire earth will for heaven calcine.  
So bettered Nature shall my servant be:  
Mine the Elixir of Philosophy.  
Thus I the golden age again will bring;  
From dregs of th' iron age out gold shall spring.  
Then I'll to th'Sky, it Atlas-like uphold,  
While I th'Star-spangled Canopy unfold.  
The heaven's a Book, the Stars the Letters be,  
Where I will spell out riddling Destiny.  
Then heavens twelve houses I'll to tenem●…nts make,  
And for them rent, will by Astrology take.  
Hence I'll slide down into the silent grave,  
And of the sleeping world the riches have.  
Unravel Ages past, and from th'dark night  
And Chaos of Confusion, force a light.  
And quicken fire from ashes of each Urn,  
Where hallowed tapers shall to light me burn.  
The present teach, and future: Correct th'age past;  
'Tis Knowledge Empire must to ages last.  
The wise man is the King none can depose:  
Can th'Cockatrice crush ith'egg, unking his foes.  
Can rebel passions unto reasons bar,  
Which menace Soul and Fortune with a war.  
Then States and Churches, Fancy ravels through,  
This Oedipus those Sphinxes can undo.  
In Aph'risms truth imprisoned I'll set free;  
Her th'bottom of the well can't hide from me▪  
Nor th' {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} of the Ottoman race,  
To raise himself all others would deface.  
I'll laugh at him with Aristotle's scolds,  
Believes no light but what's dark lantern holds.  
Or Galen's scurf, thinks th'quintessence of art,  
Who what Elixir was could ne'er impart.  
Can he of nature's privy council be,  
Show rooms within, who ne'er did entrails see?  
Strange Lapidaries price of gems would tell  
Viewing the Cask, not what within doth dwell.  
Seven year of study thus of famine be,  
The soul not sated with Philosophy.  
All dream like Pharaoh, but no Joseph's here,  
Egyptian Sages wise in vain appear.  
See th'walking Library, whom men Doctor call,  
A scold well disciplined, learnedly can brawl:  
Like Cadmus' soldiers notions in his brain,  
By mutual quarrels have each other slain.  
Hath tympanies of terms, a Cobweb net  
Of poisonous theses for a Fly can set.  
Like the fish Sleve, which presents a sword,  
Yet by inspection doth no heart afford.  
Though seeming vigour and acuteness be,  
There is no heart in their Philosophy.  
A shallow puddle doth resemblance bear  
Of Sun, Moon, Stars, and all heaven's glory there:  
Yet with a finger you may fathom it:  
Seas are too deep for th' Stagirite's great wit.  
He on his followers shallowness doth entail;  
From th'bottom of the well truth gets no bail.  
Surely they dream, if dreams in fancy be:  
Fancies are Maxims of Philosophy.    

On Retirement.  

I Leave the world, it me, yet not alone,  
Nor left, have ages for my patrons known.  
Or can I be alone, who treat with th'world,  
Which is within, yours to th'first Chaos hurled.  
I only then to be alone begin,  
When on my privacies Sciolists crowd in.  
Thus I can pinion time, memory recruit;  
From th'Age snatch th'sickle, and reap wisdoms fruit▪  
In th'Scheme of th'world my own Nativity find,  
And there gain eyes to see where Chance is blind.  
The fool is solitary, wise▪ man ne'er alone,  
Who hath himself, wants no companion.  
Who serves himself is never served amiss;  
Retirement Wisdoms Cousin German is.  
Men live like caged birds, crowd and defile  
Each other, while Religion's in exile.  
Who leaves himself, 'tis he doth living die;  
Inherits worms, who here keeps company.  
All do like worms on putrefaction prey,  
Or in their actions rottenness display:  
Remote from th'Sun, our days are there more long;  
Digestion better, life and growth more strong.  
Th'world's glories scorch us, dazzle, or exhale;  
Or sin turns Aethiop, or guilt makes us pale.  
Yet when these scorch, retire, within's a Cave;  
In our own bodies we may cooling have.  
If fortune's freeze, or more obscured be;  
The souls within, a torch, light, warmth for thee,  
Each sown Umbrella is, and his own sun;  
Desert thyself, thy joy and light is done.  
Thus you may gain what others strive to seem;  
Let me gain Knowledge, others gain Esteem.    

Man a Microcosm.  

Nature's Compendium, th'world's Epitome,  
Our flesh is earth, our blood is as a Sea.  
Have heaven in Knowledge; Soul of God's a ray,  
Which in the night of flesh breaks forth a day,  
What light without, that knowledge is within,  
Through th'eyes the windows of our Souls let in.  
To circle 'bout the world the blood's a Sun,  
The Stars the senses, w●…ich their courses run.  
Motions and perturbations of the mind,  
Resemble tempests, thunder, lightning, wind,  
Which in our aë●…y Region do arise,  
To cloud the mind, and so obscure the Skies.  
These on the blood Commotions once begun,  
We lose th'effect of light by th'clouded sun.  
Tumours like Meteors in our bodies rise,  
The exhalations of impurities:  
And in a colic or Hysterique fit,  
We feel penned wind a Earthquake make in it.  
Congealed slime like thunderbolts, we find  
By heat of reins in clouds of flesh confined.  
Our mind the day is, and our flesh the night,  
Death is but darkness, and our life the light.    

Of the Blood.  

POets feign Phoebus' blushing sets in red,  
While he descends down to his watery bed.  
Sure in these purple streams the Sun doth glide,  
And in his Crimion Chariot blushing ride,  
While he doth circle through the lesser world,  
Through veins of earth in strange Meanders curled.  
Now in a full tide channels doth disdain,  
Flows into flesh, and then ebbs back again.  
Thus blood, sunlike, gives motion, life and sense,  
Spirit, and innate heat are nought from hence.  
Distinct from Blood, who can the Soul ought call;  
'Tis all in every part, and all in all.  
Though Nature seems restored by Cock-white broth,  
It is a Sun beam Chariots in the froth.  
Thus man can't get a man, unless the Sun  
Club to the act of Generation.  
'Tis light is life; 't may place change, never dies,  
And by its nature o●…ely multiplies.  
How of the body is the Soul the act,  
When without it nobody is compact?  
Do we our senses borrow from the brain,  
When before it our senses do remain?  
Or is the heart or liver shops of blood,  
When before either is a purple flood?  
Here is that Plato's, here that vestal fire  
Kindled by sunbeams, which can ne'er expire▪  
Take away heat, 'tis Cruor and not blood,  
Streams of impurities issue with this flood:  
Ouseinto flesh, and out by Ulcers run:  
Yet ne'er were blood, no nature took from th'sun.  
Though blood-shews like a heat enameled cloud,  
Corruption with discolouring don't shroud.  
Lord, what is man thou shouldst thus mindful be?  
Placing in him this tutelar Deity.  
Water and Earth poor man, at best but mud;  
By th'quickning ray of heaven turned flesh and blood.  
When thou but tak'st of heaven this light away,  
That which before was flesh and blood, is clay.  
God's Tabenacle thus placed in the Sun,  
That Giant races must with th'whole world run.    

On the Humours.  

A Tetrasyncrasy must of humours be;  
Nature from discords produce harmony.  
How wisely th' bloody mass is understood?  
Two Cholers, black and yellow, phlegm and blood.  
Phlegm is so crude it scarce bloods nature takes;  
Blood Choler turns, but Choler ne'er blood makes.  
Yellow to black by heats exuberance tends:  
Black into none, see where perfection ends.  
When Natures work only Concoction is,  
To gain perfection we arrive at this.  
O happy age from imperfections free,  
Perfections sure mopish or mad to be.    

On the Elements.  

TO answer Humours who four Elements chose,  
Had need the fift, their quarrels to compose.  
Sure it is Love doth all together knit;  
Love made the world, and Love preserveth it.  
Things different are, but nothing contrary is,  
But as intended, or it is remisle.  
Ah! why should Med'ciners in their art agree,  
Since nature's self's but Contrariety?    

Against Phlebotomy to a Leech.  

PHilosophy ends where physic doth begin:  
'Tis strangely true, for few admit it in.  
Tell stories of Corruption of the blood;  
What's once corrupt, can it return to good?  
To th' habit from privation, how's recess?  
Phlebotomy's Key not losing rottenness.  
Or opening, can't distinguish good from bad?  
Would each bloodsucking Leech the knowledge had.  
The treasury of life they'd not exhaust,  
Take th'price of blood, while life with blood is lost.  
To nature's countermiinng not intent,  
To let death in, and life out give a vent.  
More merciful Turks thus blood do never spill,  
Under pretence of help, nor do they kill.  
Lest to his bloody art th'Leech too much trust,  
To take him off we need from graves fetch dust.    

For Phlebotomy.  

THe Courses Nature doth in Women take  
To open veins, shall we in men forsake?  
Where Nature dictates, who will not submit?  
She keeps her Monthly terms to plead for it.  
she'll argue à priori by the Nose;  
And by the Breech à posteriori shows.  
When nature's self doth once turn Critical,  
I pray resign, no critics be at all;  
'Gainst all Phlebotomy who plead, sure jest:  
In th'mood they plead for to refute it best.    

A pisspot Prophet.  

SEE th'man of Recipes how his Cloak is lined!  
Sure th'insides rich, where we such linings find.  
Can strut, not gravely, with an ominous look,  
Like Mahomet when from th'Dove he Counsel took,  
Consults with his Mustachio's 'fore he's heard;  
Surely he strokes his wisdom from his beard.  
Your liver's foul, and stomach, pains ith'heart,  
We Cardialgia call it men of art,  
Your spirits natural; vital, animal be,  
And I'm afraid, not from obstructions free.  
Would of erratic griefs you causes know?  
The head's the fountain, whence these streams do flow.  
Your livers hot, cold stomach, thence to the brain,  
Vapours a●…ise in Clouds, shower back again.  
You are hydroptick, nay, Cachectick too,  
I strangely fear a discrasy in you.  
Oh, oh my heart, my heart doth down retreat  
Their monstrous purges you (Learned sir) repeat.  
They Panchymagogi, and Catholicons be;  
And Diaphaenicon th'rare electuary.  
These are your purges man; the bezoar stone,  
Brave Cordial, unto all but me unknown.  
Have you a pain i'th' stomach? yes, back and head?  
Lord Master Doctor where have you this read?  
Ith' urine man▪ by this I even can know  
Each step, and stair by which to bed you go.  
Piss takes the form of parts as it runs through,  
I could no better know, was I in you.  
Hence looking-glasses, Chamberpots we call,  
'Cause in your piss we can discover all.  
Why this no less than Aaron's breastplate is,  
The Seminalities of all ills in piss:  
To trust in this the College doth forbid,  
Vile men would prelate-like have knowledge hid.  
I never durst approach the college near,  
They Bishop like do place an Image there.  
Their Idol-Harvy of the Serpents breed.  
To break his head denies the woman seed.  
We're wonderfully made the Scripture says,  
Yet this wretch how we're made would show the ways;  
Nay, Conjurer-like makes Circling in the blood,  
I know not why, but sure it can't be good.  
What spirit 'tis he trades with is unknown  
Distinct from blood he will no spirits own.  
Out of five senses too he would persuade  
He need add more, your senses are decayed:  
And th' world doth senses want to fee deceit,  
Both out of money and of life to cheat.  
All like the frog to physic will pretend,  
Would others cure can't their own croaking mend.    

To a Gigger to Padua, Valentia, and Leiden Doctors.  

Who gigs to Padua, doth Montpelier sent,  
Creeps in, steals out, as if for theft he went▪  
If gains, sure steals in secret knowledge there?  
Or th' French inspires him, or Italian air?  
Or th' zany knowledge, waits on th' giant's name?  
Or the matter lurks in an impostumed fame?  
Or who's where wit is dealt, must need have share?  
●…eripatetiques Grand Philosophers were.  
If you are Laden with exotic gold,  
To come near th' Tower of truth you may be bold.  
For Custom-sake unto the college come,  
Volleys of praise shall entertain you home:  
Not gilt o'er to deceive, with titles dressed,  
Gold need not fear for to endure the test:  
Gold's the sun's Child, why do ye fear the light?  
See how the bats do fear, and love the night!  
Unplumed and bloodless by the light they're known,  
In errors twilight flut'ring they're unknown.  
A darker shop befits their fucate drugs,  
These sucked not milk; but blood from stepdame's dugs.    

On Suburban-non Licentiates, who foxlike call the college grapes sour.  

YOu're all Licentiates; though no licenc'd crew,  
And titles which you paid for are your due;  
Though you by doctor's names entitled be,  
Only to Folly in a high degree.  
Letters of commendations fools may gain,  
Which pockets carry, th' wise man's in his brain.  
Honor's the wise man's bride, fools act a rape.  
The Colledge-fruits are sour like the fox's grape;  
These like the Dogs in errors darker night,  
Bark at the Moon, but cannot catch the light.  
Professors might to th' college pupils be,  
Gain what you want, in knowledge a degree.  
They in arts rudiments could instruct a sage,  
Knowledge herself is here in pupillage.  
Shine out great lights, your beams for life display,  
While death portending Comets blaze and slay.    

On the excellent Dr. Glisson.  

HIc gliscit ars. Art may in vain intend,  
Her nerves for knowledge, Glisson not her friend.  
Knowledge enervate did and strenghlesse lie,  
Till Glisson use did to the nerves supply.  
The spirit more refined may now in vain,  
Knowledge i'th' circle, not progress, complain:  
Harvy, and Glisson, will force all confess  
Knowledge by circling, now's in the progress.    

The sequestered Priest piddling in physic.  

who's both sequestered here of state and wit,  
He in revenge to th' world would murder it;  
Cries destiny, God Author makes of ill,  
When by a cruel ignorance he doth kill.  
Iure divino will this calling have;  
Luke a Physician the prerogative gave;  
Yet sure learned Bard, it will the contrary teach,  
Not you physicians, make physicians preach.    

The fugitive chemic.  

THe Knave turns quack too, blowed the chemist coal;  
As if each blast, inspired their Theophrasts soul.  
He talks of salt without a grain of wit;  
But Mercury's sure i'th' lightness of his wit;  
Nor doth he want his Sulphur, he hath got  
Against the state no less than Powderplot.  
Or good from bad by Pyrotechny take,  
Or else you poison may for medicine make.  
Yet the best things corrupted the worst be;  
Heaven or hell's spirits are in chemistry.    

On sigils.  

For art of memory, signs on Planets set,  
Teach men themselves, and Planets to forget.  
Are placed on Sigi●…s, maladies to cure;  
By monsters, Ague-like they're frighted sure.  
If 'tis in matter, in all metals power.  
If in the form, the scorpion may devour.  
More wisely Theophrast did {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} write  
On●…s Sigil; and for foolery it indite.    

On the astrological quack.  

AT th' college of the stars he did commence,  
And Statesman-like will speak the houses sense,  
Each house for man's use stranger herbs hath got,  
To them they essence property, seed allot.  
But is't not strange; when they so numerous be,  
How all do with a fewer stars agree?  
Each pil and potion too hath different sign:  
Nature i'th' stomach sure now can't refine.  
Or is't since heaven stand still, and earth turns round,  
We here are giddy, there no truth is found?  
The heaven's a book is, where men wonders read,  
The stars are letters, most a Christ's Cross need.    

Oglio of quacks.  

We souls and bodies Medicasters have,  
Both are hereditary, Father fool, Son th' knave.  
Th' disease that's known, half cured some do say,  
Now not to know't, to cure't's the ready way,  
A fortunate Doctor though he hath no skill,  
Wisely can cure, before he knows the ill.  
Nay, even his potion knowledge can instil;  
Who's cured by chance, a recipe gains to kill:  
The triple toothed join with three recipes,  
A sacred number can cure each disease.  
Looking like the skeleton stole from surgeon's Hall,  
Having there Knowledge gain'd's Chyrurgical▪  
With Solomon's Key, and's Cabal quacks the Jew,  
And th' book whose name sure works Nebolahu.  
Sputring-like th' Country quack with terms of art;  
Who by piss prophesying wonders doth impart.  
The words sent th' Syrian King this wretch makes wise,  
Another those were spoke in Paradise;  
But oh see Locusts from the infernal pit,  
Leech, Falkner, Huntsman, all for murder fit.  
'Twixt man and beast there's now no difference made,  
To th' bestial part since reason man betrayed.  
Physicians once were Children of the Sun,  
Now night, and earth need cover what is done.  
Wise Lacedaemon would no quacks endure,  
Themselves intitling unto nature's cure.  
A painter convert, Leech said Earth may hide  
The faults I now make, th' former were espied.  
While Italy did to Adrian complain.  
Under pretence of help, their friends were slain.  
The Pope replied, the Land would be too great,  
These you devour, lest you yourselves might eat.  
Thus cruelty passing uncontrolled by Law,  
Leeches by purse, and veins the heart blood draw.  
Yet all Egyptian-like to Crocodiles pay  
Devotion for requital do them slay.    

On Noah Big's vanity of the Craft of physic.  

IN Noah Bigs ark truth shall ne'er be saved,  
Since for one truth preserved he twenty waved.  
While you would physic purge, and purges too;  
We need a purge of hellebore for you:  
Like th' mad man living in a Seaport Town,  
Thought all the ships came in the haven his own.  
No ship but his at truth's port hath arrived,  
In waves of error drowned, none else survived.  
Yet while he's gleaning up Van Helmont's scraps,  
And the Dutch hog's head long since broached new taps,  
Had he apprentice to an Alewife been,  
By yeast fermenting ale he more had seen,  
The humours to ferment had better shown,  
Then what Van's stronger fancy brews or's own.  
Yet 'tis no matter though all Sciolists be,  
Knowledge in physic's occult quality.    

On Noah Biggs.  

BY the spirit more though chemistry can show,  
Then by't Enthusiasts of the age do know.  
Though ages dreamed, and th' aged dreamers be,  
We that are young men do no Visions see.  
To glean truth see in Harvy Harves here,  
Themselves in him the college pillars rear.  
No more of every wind of fancy sport,  
He gives them truth, and gives them reason for't.  
Yet thou dear Biggs so well of ill hast writ,  
He who can't praise thy truth, may praise thy wit.    

On Fontinell's.  

WHat though chimaeras all defluxions be,  
That need to have an issues midwifry;  
He that doth good, though he the cause don't know,  
There is no cause why he should less it do.  
Corruption from a roweld horse doth flow:  
'Cause th' Farrier knows not, why is it so?  
Who truth immersed, would pluck out of the pit,  
Not only peeps, but doth exantlate it.  
To the first moving vesicle tracts the blood:  
Hath ebbing, flowing, circling understood:  
Whence our impurities spring, knows every mine:  
Not fights 'bout words, but can the things define.  
He who shows faults, to truth he is no friend:  
But he who showing teaches to amend.  
Had the acute Van-Helmont faults thus shown,  
He had cured ours, and not have made his own.  
Nor while he proves all issues to be vain,  
Prove only so, the issue of his brain.  
Let's scholars all to Patavie be sent,  
Where they for giddy fumes, give hogsheads vent.    

On Van Helmont.  

IN luxury of wit there's more than needs:  
And in the best of Gardens there's some weeds▪  
In Helmont's Paradise there's of life a tree,  
By fruits of knowledge we may blinded be:  
And while our imperfections we would smother,  
Only some figleaves take to make a Cover.  
What few do, seems to know of what he wilt,  
Superfaetation hath no abort wit.  
'Bove Galen's scurf, 'bove him whose scraps might feed  
Sages, yet he a school boys Latin need:  
Yet to set th' Kernel off, let th' shell be foil,  
If not much labour, Theophrast showed much oil.  
But oh! while errors troops Van rashly charges,  
Error him Captive takes, who truth enlarges.    

On Doctor Harvey.  

What can one pillar only be thy due,  
The college pillar, and truth's pillar too?  
Had we Seth's pillar whose sight Joseph feigns,  
Perusing thine, 'twould scarce requite our pains.  
Non datur ultra Hercules pillars show,  
Beyond a Hercules labours thou dost go.  
Seven headed Hydra, error multiplied  
Thou needest no Club, thy knife can soon divide:  
Augean filths no work when vied with thee,  
dost cleanse the Jakes of all antiquity,  
All truths before thine, did like heat-drops fall.  
Vanished so soon, scarce seen, or known at all.  
Thou setest up sail, swims through the purple flood,  
Which blushed before, 'cause never understood.  
Thou circlest through our Microcosom, and we  
Learn more than th'world, ourselves, new worlds by thee  
Knowledge was eaten through with age's rust,  
And the Serpent now would cheat us with his dust;  
Most do an apple fancy, knowledge fruit;  
Say but an Harvey, we assent unto't.  
Yet here we knowledge gain withoout a death;  
Death only opens us a way to breath;  
Enabled by the cunning of his knife,  
He Cherubin like doth guard the tree of life.  
Above the milky way in glory shine,  
Lend human nature lustre more divine;  
Those lesser stars, a, Peckquet, Bartholine  
Lose all their glory, when by't vied with thine;  
They babes in physic by thy milk may please,  
Thou openest veins for cure of truth's disease.  
Art nature's midwife, strip'st her Callow brood,  
And new attirest to enrich our blood  
What need we pillars unto Harvey raise,  
Who rears himself a Pyramid of praise?  
To issue wanting Absaloms' Pillars rear;  
Each generation will give him an heir.  
While drops of blood can channel in a vein,  
Truth's bloody victory will him trophies gain.    

On Dr. George Ent.  

Perfumed with spices, when our Phoenix dies,  
mayst from his ashes glorious arise.  
Thy name speaks, being bettered by thy art,  
Non ents in knowledge, may thy skill impart.  
'Bove aged Dons whose bushes figure time,  
Yet bea●…ded Meteors all their lights from shine.  
From lesser stars we do expect no light,  
Nor Comets from the dregs of fancies bright;  
Of truth's succession Mayst thou Herald be;  
Proclaim her wars, her rights, and pedigree;  
While we our William's Conquest do proclaim,  
Not Conqueror of a Land, but whole world's name.  
Entitled to it by each drop of blood;  
Which posting round proclaims his title good;  
From th' Tyranny of ignorance them freed,  
While his dissecting hand made errors bleed;  
Great Harvy's second, teeming Natures friend,  
To nature and her Midwife thy hand lend;  
Open thou nature's books, and teach them read,  
Can only open veins to make truth bleed.  
Lash whimp'ring folly; answering at thy lash,  
Whip her unti●… she gigs out all her trash.  
Beat all the Hectors rise it h'whores defence,  
Till prejudice is Captive led by sense.  
Thou nothing dost, if all dost not outdo,  
High treason against nature 'tis in you.  
If from a Sun in Knowledge no light be,  
Nature must suffer by non entity.  
Less than perfection by thy name's not meant,  
'Tis only sinful folly's a non Ent.    

On Doctor Brown. His Religio Medici and vulgar errors.  

REligio Medici though th' word Atheism call,  
The would shows none, and the physician all▪  
More zeal and charity▪ Brown in twelve sheets shows,  
Then twelve past ages writ, or th' present knows;  
What Paracelsus braged of doth disclose,  
He twixt the Pope and Luther might compose,  
Though gut-inspired zealots bark at him,  
He hath more knowledge than their Sanedrim.  
Or the Scotch pedant a worm in every book,  
To maim the words and make the sense mistook.  
Dull lumps of earth not yet concocted mud,  
In natures count scarce ciphers understood.  
Let these lick up the indigested phlegm  
Which Cruder stomached Sciolists belched 'fore them:  
Doglike to vomits run and lick each sore,  
Think learning to repeat what's said before.  
While these can prize truths weapons by the rust,  
Crawl with the aged serpent in the dust.  
Shine out dispelling th' ages darker night,  
Knowledge makes only Children of the light.  
Folli's unmasked, and errors bald pate shown,  
Brown others errors, otherswrite their own.    

On Dr. George bowl of Oundle.  

NOr shalt thou dearest bowl oblivion take,  
Since 'tis Apollo must a Poet make:  
Thou every day dost circ●…e like the Sun;  
A course for nature's reparation ru●…  
Impartest thy light to all, yet losest none;  
Knowledge is th' sun's Child, true philosopher's stone.  
Thou canst both trepane lungs, and open th' heart:  
Whilst thou thy own dost to thy friend impart.  
No dialect of nods, thee Noddy speaks,  
While th' hogshead fears a vent, lest all out Leaks.  
Or knowledge at the best seems in a tr●…nce,  
While plush is lined with sable ignorance▪  
who'd not have's brain be trepaned by thee,  
Thy own heads open, while thy tongue is free.  
Nor thyself only but thy Art mak'st friends,  
While Artists discords in best music ends.  
Thou Paracelsus makest Galen's friend;  
While chemics now botanics do commend.  
Mutual defects no longer they reveal;  
Their own and others they conjoined heal.  
Yet thou from neither packhorse-like tak'st load,  
Come life, come death, to keep both pace and road▪  
We owe thy errors, not to thee, but times,  
We owe the virtues, far above their crimes.  
He knows Bowl little, much him disapproves,  
But knows him not at all who him not loves.    

On the death of his inviscerately affected friend Richard Watson Esq chirurgeon to his late Majesty of England.  

NEed they embalm, in Lead thus wrap thee dead,  
My tears will re-embalm, my heart turn Lead?  
Who take thy bowels out, sure take out mine,  
They by a sympathy were no less than thine;  
With an inviscerate dotage I did love;  
Could not thy death ah than my bowels move?  
Watson is dead, and with him buried art:  
Ah who can cure the wounds made in my heart?  
Who dying made could only living cure,  
How could he die, and I no death endure?  
Who could with Watson in dissections vy,  
Who dying makes, his friend Anatomy.  
Each part was his, grief will asunder take,  
And of his art will me a monument make.  
Could I survive, I'm quickened by his fame,  
How can he die who writes but Watson's name.    

The Poetaster.  

ALL are not Poets, who can pace in rhyme,  
And to an odd tune, can in ding dung chime;  
Castalian nymphs and God Apollo name;  
Don-cupid's fire, and a sea-frothed dame;  
While they glean straw in Egypt for to raise;  
Unto themselves strange pyramids of praise.  
Though like to tulips they enamelled be,  
Yet the fools Coat is their best livery.  
On pagan Gods and Goddesses who call,  
Sure their Religion is poetical.  
Nor should they the Vintage judge of pagan wit,  
Who what they have but gleanings are from it;  
Nor learned 'bove fooleries; rich above Romance,  
Fit th' price of vanity only to enhance;  
A Fountain Tavern thus may Helicon be,  
Nine wenches muses lending poetry.  
While Idol-Priests, who Poets do approve,  
Themselves some Idol make, a wench they love.  
Their wit like to their Venus, born of froth,  
Is fit for fire, a Vulcan to betrothe.    

On Homer.  

HOmer, who seemed to want the eyes of's mind,  
Must now give light, in his own age was blind.  
Some did his Iliads to a nutshell fit;  
A Cherystone might have confined the wit.  
The Gods know all; wise men sleep not all night,  
One man must govern; many can't do right.  
To express drums, and trumpets verse is fit,  
Yet knew no part of th' war of which he writ.  
{non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman}.  
A warlike tone, might children fright 'bove too.  
Some Poets paint, licking what he did spew,  
Vomits must need be fi●…th; 'tis strangely true.  
By the beam of light whom Plato could traduce,  
Shall we in th' gospel's Sunshine love his use?  
Petavius Psalms, a Nonnus, Duports Job,  
` For th' Sanctuary who heathenism disrobe,  
refined to th' Altar, bring the Idols gold,  
Let these impressions make on tender mould.  
Can Egypt's garlic, we or onions need?  
On th' milk of th' word can't our youth better feed?    

On Scaliger.  

NOr is a Scaliger fit the Scales to bear,  
Weighing nor times, nor thee with equal care,  
The Prince, and Father of all pagan wit,  
Who thee de●…pise, high treason act 'gainst it:  
In thee his honoured Maro did dispraise,  
Whose sprig was only gathered at thy bays.  
Surely he ne'er did mean what he did write,  
Not Hypercritick here but hypocrite.    

On Musaeus.  

But of Musaus' sure he better writ;  
In writing less he needs must show more wit.  
Who writes not one loves songs, scarce wise; who more,  
Unto Anticyra send for Hellebore.  
The Spanish proverb only here is true,  
He's fool can't write one Sonnet, mad writes two.    

On Hesiod.  

NOr can th'straw-gatherers of Egypt fit,  
Us from their Poets more than vulgar wit,  
Virtue with sweat's attained set on a hill,  
beggars with beggars; potters potters ill.  
Bad counsel's worst to him who doth it give;  
We're born of Gods: it is by them we live.  
The mean's above the whole: See Hesiods flowers;  
Are these like th'gardens watered by heaven's showers?    

On Theocritus, Mosius, and Theognis.  

EUnica laughs at me, who'd kiss in vain:  
Cupid stings men, by Bees is stung again.  
A ●…ool may sometimes opportunely speak;  
Each fool may show this without reading Greek.  
While that Pedants thus trifle time in trash,  
They for their faults, not boys deserve the lash.    

On Virgil.  

NOr are the Latins more; the Aeneiads be  
But Iliads; in' georgics Hesiods plagiary:  
In his bucolics own's Theocritus Muse:  
For other faults, time, and his death excuse.  
But while he Dido wronged with falser fire,  
His verse deserved the flames he did desire.   

Tibullus, Gallus, and Propertius be  
Frothed like love's Goddesses out of vanity.  
These to lust's Idols do but Altars rear,  
And kindle flames of hell while we are here.   

May Ovid's books like him exiled die;  
Lust's breath's infectious is in Poetry.  
While Juvenal 'gainst Vices do declaim,  
He Vice gives birth, which else had lost a name.   

Martial doth twang, and well might sent of wit,  
Did not obscenities rankness stifle it.    

Chymerica Poesis. On the fight of a yellow skined Lady.  

What stranger agony's this? ah fire!  
Ah! lightning quickens my desire!  
Must I fall tamely? a gilt Fly  
Entrap an Eagle! cruel destiny!  
Cease roving thoughts, and centre there,  
Where love is fixed as in a sphere.  
Wouldst know why Morn doth blushing rise?  
From yellow skin the day break spies.  
The envious Moon looks pale to see  
Her skin glance beams more bright than she.  
While heaven embroidring stars admire  
Her lustre twinkling, they retire.  
Some glorious light is sure within,  
Thus shines through th' lantern of her skin.  
Or is this Cupids yellow fire,  
Since every glance inflames desire?  
A sight could Icy Anchorets turn  
To fire; and make even ashes burn.   

Sure' is some Phoenix, here must build a nest,  
She hath both flame, and spices in her breast.    

The praise of a yellow skin: OR An ELIZABETH in Gold.  

THe Sun when he enamels day,  
No other Colour doth display.  
Lilies ashamed thou shouldst outvie,  
Themselves from white to yellow die.  
Thy arms are wax, nay honey too,  
Colour and sweetness hath from you.  
But when thy neck doth but appear,  
I think I view an Indie there.  
Can passion reason then befool,  
Where such an Emp'ress beareth rule?  
Thy yellow breasts are hills of fire  
To heat, not snow to quench desire.  
Ransack Peru, and Tagus' shore,  
And then vie treasure: thou'lt be poor.  
Let wretches delve for yellow Ore,  
A golden skin I ask, no more.   

Sure Jove descending in a yellow shower  
To rival me, thus gilt my Danaë over.    

To a Lady wadrring why I praised a yellow skin.  

GIlt pictures Papists for devotion use;  
To raise my fancy gilded skin I choose:  
No face I see but ●…ellow doth commend;  
An Angel is the fee doth th'Cause befriend.  
What mad man silver would to gold compare?  
Shall we praise white 'fore those that yellow are?  
I praised a golden skin, but fancied there  
The gold that real in her virtues were.  
Or 'twas the Image I did there behold  
Of what I loved, an El'zaheth in Gold.  
Say not the yellow jaundice in my eye,  
Or that I new broach Magus heresy:  
While in the Church was gold, there was more zeal:  
Who gold from thence, sure did Religion steal.  
Who picture Angels, make them golden wings;  
As if 'tis Angel gold heaven's blessings brings.  
'Tis wonder working gold we Angels call:  
None think him blessed, no Angel hath at all.  
What though I ransack th'treasuries of the deep,  
Know all that Nature doth confined keep?  
Want gold, though I know all, I nothing know.  
Schoolmen say Angels teach all things below;  
'Tis gold makes honoured, lovely, virtuous, wise,  
Nay holy too: ah who would gold despise!  
An ass with gold but laden Towns may take,  
Nay kingdoms to her ears Idolaters make.  
Was there a swine's faced Lady rich indeed,  
The Jew would Christian turn, on swine's flesh feed.  
Yet some rich discontents call glorious hell;  
What shall there not be heaven where Angels dwell?  
That joys be current virtues Image take;  
Let Love be th'gold where you th'impression make;  
Love yellow skin for golden may mistake,  
Love's an Elixir gold of brass may make.  
Love can the tag of a blue point make more,  
Than all the riches pave blue Neptune's shore.   

Love is the gold that with no fire will change,  
No loss will alter, nor no time estrange.    

To Aureola, or the yellow skined Lady; asking who could love a Fancy.  

Who could a Fancy love? who Fancy have.  
None ere love wit, whom nature no wit gave▪  
Some say my Fancy's rich, you'll love it sure;  
My Fancy's you, can you yourself endure?  
Most fancy gold, and I a golden skin:  
Who's gold without, is she not rich within?  
I from thy skin did make the break of day;  
The Moon made pale you took her light away.  
To yellow skin the Indies I'd confine;  
Give every part the riches of a Mine,  
Scorn but my fancy, thou again art poor;  
Horses with Yellows shall be valued more.  
I'll say the Yellow jaundice doth thee die;  
Beggars with lice shall bear thee company.  
Or yellow Oaker thus thee coloured tell,  
And send thee Customers such as Oaker sell,  
An unlicked Calf came into th' world with dung;  
Which yellow ever since about you hung,  
Or with child's cack thou since were't yellowed o'er,  
'Cause shitten luck is good, hast suitors store.  
I made thee gold, 'tis I can make thee brass,  
Currant with Tinkers thou shalt only pass:  
Yet while thy flesh such company draw near,  
Like th' cynics gold, you may grow pale by fear.  
You must be mine if you would golden be;  
Know that a golden Angel is my fee.    

To a refined Lady.  

BUt come choice piece of Nature more refined,  
Perfection to a quintessence refined;  
I'll no more study the philosopher's stone,  
Eugenia mine, th' Elixir's sure mine own.  
Please me my yellow girl, she shall thee touch,  
I fancied gold, but then I'll make thee such.    

On an Ethiopian beauty, M. S.  

BLack specks for beauty spots white faces need:  
How fair are you whose face is black indeed?  
See how in hoods and masks some faces hide,  
As if ashamed the white should be espied.  
View how a blacker veil o'respreads the skies,  
And a black scarf on earth's rich bosom lies.  
When worth is dead, all do their blacks pur on,  
As if they would revive the worth that's gone.  
Surely in black Divinity doth dwell;  
By th' black garb only we Divines can tell.  
Devil's ne'er take this shape, but shapes of light;  
Devils which mankind hu●…t, appear in white,  
When nature's riches in one mass was hurled,  
Thus black was th'face of all the infant world.  
What th'world calls fair is foolish, 'tis allowed,  
That you who are so black, be justly proud.    

Of the black Lady with grey eyes and white teeth.  

LIke to the grey-eyed Morn, your sparkling eyes  
Dart lustre, while a sable clothes the skies.  
And your white teeth resemble th' milky way,  
The glory of the night, and th' shame of day,  
Complain not then Nigrina of thy white,  
Since stars shine brightest in the blackest night.    

The praise of his Mistress.  

ADmire no more those downy breasts,  
Where candours pure Elixir rests.  
Praise not the blushings of the Rose,  
Which th'Mornings mantle doth disclose:  
Nor subtle lilies which outvie  
Calcining arts choice chemistry.  
Let none extol the milky way,  
Where night vies splendour with the day.  
Nor pearls within Confinement keep,  
More treasure than what paves the deep.  
For if my Mistress but appears,  
The sullied snow turns black with tears:  
Swans seem to wear the veil of night,  
And blushing lilies lose their white:  
The bashful Roses drooping die,  
Bequeathing her their fragrancy.  
The galaxy checked in her pride,  
A sable Cloud doth mourning hide.  
Ambitious pearl mounts to her ear,  
And is made rich by being there.  
And as we see the twinkling fire  
Spangling heaven's Canopy retire,  
When Sol enameling doth display  
His gildings to inaurate day:  
Thus meaner beauties patches are,  
Spots, nay foils to make her fair.  
These lesser lights dimmed by her eye,  
Twinkle, go out in stench, and die.  
If you would know who this may be;  
I neither know, nor eye ere see.   

Sure Iris only must my Mistress prove;  
The Rainbow hath no colour I can't love.    

On a blue Point giv n ●…y a Lady on Valentine's day to her Valentine, and preached against by a Parson who call'●… it a Rag of Superstition.  

HEnce spout of zealous ignorance, in vain  
Thou seek'st to taint true blue, 'twill never stain.  
What a blue point the strumpet's lace? Rome's Rag?  
Canst think there's less Religion in each tag,  
Then all the points you tenter into Uses?  
While Codpiece zeal would point out hot abuses?  
Your bluer pulpit stuff you did so disjoint,  
I durst have swore you'd never come to th'point.  
Both earth, air, heaven, thee heretic could invite,  
Could th'Saint once named make thee no proselyte?  
The day she gave't, winged choristers took the air,  
And joined to sing her praises pair and pair.  
Her gift resembling Violets then appear,  
Proud thus to usher sweetness into th'year.  
Yet Birds can't reach her praise, Violets her sweet,  
Nor tell what glories in her blue point meet.  
Dost thou not see how th'blewer coloured vein  
Doth b●…th our spirits, life, and souls contain?  
Or dost not view how tinctu●…'d thus the sky  
Shows all that's rich in heavns embroidery?  
Or dost not know how purpled Judges sit,  
As if they took their robes to vote for it?  
Yet veins are useless vied, sky foul words weak,  
To speak the gift, let th'Donor Angels speak.  
Angels, ah Angels she's seraphic sure,  
Nature calcined her to that temperature.  
Blue Garter Orders hence are vanished gone,  
Blue points succeed, mists fly before the sun▪  
By box and a blue point a wiser age  
Surely could nothing less than this presage.  
They who their thoughts do elevate with drink,  
Fancy refined, nothing but blue can think.    

On the refined Lady.  

CHoice extract of thy Sex, where we  
May find what's in it good in thee:  
Of so refined a temperature,  
Can you then Angels be less pure?  
Impurerd eggs of flesh and blood,  
Nature by dirt makes great not good.  
When Nature made thee so refined,  
Surely she portraict'd out the mind.  
Nothing presents thee to my sense,  
Speaks less than an Intelligence.  
Who'd folios of thy Sex read o'er,  
Since in Epitome he finds more?    

On the wearing of the Tag of her blue Point.  

THough like a Liquorish stick you're thin,  
Yet all its sweetness is within.  
Like Aaron's Rod in virtues bud,  
A tw●…g in virtue 'bove a wood.  
Sure Kings white wands but Emblems be  
Of virtues which do reign in thee.  
Some think by magic Rods decline,  
And by their head point out a mine.  
But oh more true none this twig see,  
That richer mines find not by thee.  
Sure had Philosophers but you known,  
They'd this Elixir thought their stone.  
Since you're a quintessence can refine,  
And make brass Tags prized 'bove a mine.  
While all that's glorious meets in you,  
We pay to yours what is your due.  
Who honour Saints, of them do love each rag;  
Who loves the Saint, must honour needs her tag.  
Had you but lived in a fonder age,  
To your blue Point they'd gone a pilgrimage.    

On Pentepicta: A Lady with enameled Teeth, black, white and yellow. F.W.  

THe wiseman Teeth called flocks of sheep;  
Sure Jacobs' speckled flocks here keep.  
Where teeth are chequered black and white,  
Nay gilt too to enrich delight:  
Her mouth ope, you at chess may play,  
With teeth resembling night and day.  
Each fondling reach will praise what's white;  
Is there in choke such strange delight?  
Give me the mouth like th'Temple floor,  
With speckled Marble paved o'er,  
Or oh more rich in gold thus set,  
A row of pearl than one of jet.    

On Flavia: A yellow haired Lady, E.W.  

COme Eagles here your Eaglets try,  
Where hair seems sunbeams for the eye.  
Was there but Persians here, each hair  
Might call a Votary to his Prayer:  
While every one emits a ray,  
Brighter than those g●…ld th'new botn day.  
Could age run back, and renew Greece,  
They'd hither send for th'golden Fleece.  
●…n honour of this golden hair,  
Sure Spain the golden Fleece doth wear.  
Though gone Hesperian Orchards be,  
Your head preserves the golden Tree.  
Should Goddesses but now contend,  
A hair of it might th'quarrel end.  
Who would not think her the most fair,  
Who could deserve to have your hair?  
Or is your head a hill of fire,  
Since men f●…el Aetna in desire?  
Or Cupid of ●…hy hair makes darts,  
Which being fire inflames all hearts?  
Or the proud Boy will captives hold  
In fetters which are made of gold.   

Nature presaging you would Empire have,  
And rule o'er hearts, this Crown of Gold you gave.    

On a Crooked Lady, M.V.  

SUre Cupid of thy shoulders makes a bow,  
From whence fly love shafts wounding all▪ thee know  
See how the mimic Apes do shrug to bear  
Resemblance with the bunch you carry there.  
View how the supple hammed Dons cringing bend,  
As by thy copy they their shapes would mend.  
The enameled war drobe of rich Nature view;  
All drooping imitate, an●… bow like you.  
The bashful Roses shrink into their beds;  
Lilies in emulation hang down heads.  
Less than Celestial sure you cannot be;  
The sky embrod'ring bow resembles thee.  
Heaven on●…ly thee a richer token bent,  
And to enrich poor Mortals thee us sent;  
That as the rainbow token is of love;  
Earth may have one below, as heav●…n above.  
Hence as by age to h●…av'n we nearer grow,  
Age what thy youth arrives to lends a bow.  
`` 's Like thee he makes thy praise would sum,  
To th'period of thy praise no pen can come.    

T●…e praise of Thick and Short.  

IF the round figures the most perfect be,  
Th'perfection of thy sex sure's most in thee.  
Nature imperfect there is understood,  
Where up to legs they run for want of blood.  
Here's no lank piece stuffed out with clothes to cheat,  
Bag pudding like, thou'rt all without deceit.  
With thy broad shoulders there's no slender waste:  
Lest it might fall in two, must be straight laced.  
Each part's alike, thou art as thick as long,  
Shoulders and waste have one proportion.  
In parchment clothed, no skeleton here discovers,  
To kill lust in them, death unto her lovers.  
No bones stick out to threaten those draw near,  
Sword-like through th'scabberd of the flesh appear.  
Thy quavering flesh to all that do draw nigh,  
At every touch presents an harmony.  
Sure far above the music of the spheres,  
Th' harmony of th' whole Globe in thee appears.    

To Dionysia the plump Lady, S D.  

FAt is too luscious when it is alone:  
You fat, I lean, sure would do well made one.  
How lovely's fat with lean when inter-lined?  
Should we not lovely prove together joined?  
marriage makes one of those before were two;  
You may have flesh for me, I bones for you.  
Scripture says woman made was out of bone;  
But you are flesh, sure I a rib alone.  
Oh might I be that rib so near your heart,  
So near alliance death could o●…ely part.  
Or you my flesh, I would thy spirit be,  
To give new life, would actuate in thee.  
Fat easily melts, sure hard you cannot be;  
Love to melt you hath kindled fires in me.  
But should you fly, the flames must quench and die;  
How can the fire be kept no fuel nigh?  
While I do burn, should ●…ou the fuel prove,  
we'd send a light to ages how to love.    

On Monocula, A one eyed Lady, M. W.  

THe heaven at once hath but one eye,  
The Sun or Moon you with both vie,  
Thus alley to Divinity.   

Night and darkness make one day;  
Chance that takes one, takes none away:  
Thus Love and you at bo-peep play.   

Don Cupid would an Archer be;  
But wanting eyes took one of thee;  
There needs but one to archery.   

He for thy service keeps thy eye;  
Can she want love, doth love supply?  
Whom you hate, with his shaft must die.   

All they who lovers are, are blind,  
Like will to like; you'll servants find,  
All lovers yours, choose to your min●…,  
She needs must aim well who keeps one eye blind.    

To Eugenia, a defence of juvenile wildness.  

NO troubled Sea of lust, no passions move,  
Like storms, once deaf as corks, now hear of love.  
What was I wild as S●…a, inflam●…d as air,  
And deaf as Rocks, to th' giddy seaman's prayer?  
Know gravity's prodig●…ous in a Child:  
Natures inverted if ●…e is not wild.  
Bid th' sprightly morn be sullen, and display,  
No beam for to in●…urate new born day.  
That which to youth gives motion, growth and sense,  
Is but the efflu●…ion of a ray from thence.  
'Cause young men visions see, and th' aged dream,  
Must tru●…hs in youthful breasts more clearly stream  
Age doth the stinging panther's breath perfume  
By time the Firtrees odours do assume:  
Myrabolans and dates in bloom and bud,  
Both noxious are, both in their fruit are good.  
To prove wild youth makes good man th' proverb take,  
See how the wilder Colts best ho●…ses makes!  
Who Noy in Law, Butler in's art excels?  
Who Julius or Severus parallels?  
Th●…se like new wine, would sally, fume and swell,  
In reasons confines would not always dwell.  
Priveling in drops and dirt view springs laid low:  
Whence silver streams do swell, and rivers flow.  
Know barren earth doth Mines of gold obscu●…e:  
And viler shells do precious gems immure.  
Come my Eugenia, thou shalt me ●…efine;  
See how from dirt doth spring a glorious mine!  
View how the Phoenix hid in ashes lies!  
See after mucky burials plants arise!  
A spring of virtue and of youth's in thee,  
Shine out, and nature opes her treasury.  
Colours in night dead quickened by the ray,  
Of such a Sun will shine more bright than day.  
See th' sport of every tyrant wave a bark!  
On passion's deluge view a rolling Ark.  
Come dearest Dove with Olive branch of peace,  
The deluge of thy woes and mine shall cease.  
Chemists say, who fix Mercury can make gold,  
Fix me Eugenia thou art rich if't hold.    

To a man of office under the L. K. who called detraction love, and Calumny good Counsel.  

GOld could buy offices, could it have bought wit,  
You for your place, it had for you been fit:  
But oh more happy times sequestered it!  
No time can you sequester of your wit.  
You're a rare Courtier, if the proverb's true:  
Nor want of pride, nor ignorance is in you.  
And no bad statesman, you may Cope with th' fame  
Of Burleigh, Cecil, and wise Walsingame.  
No Statesman must divulge what he d●…th know,  
You're rarely wise who ne'er your wisdom show.  
Your knowledge by your sentences I know,  
Pray me some wisdom by your silence show.  
Forth giddy pated surgeon, who would care  
Thinks to cure wounds, exposing them to th' air,  
Counsel is balm, each folly is a wound:  
Covered with balm, and kept close, thy'r made sound.    

The ingenious Lady E. V. to I. L. contemning her age.  

S●…ay cruel youth, rash stripling stay;  
Fear'st thou in snow to lose thy way?  
Supposest the powd'ring of my hair:  
‛ I is supposition makes us fair.  
My brow in wreaths should never move  
In thee disdain, but rather love;  
Think but that art in pleats it laid,  
And of it a fashion made.  
Who fears winter with a fire?  
I have more heat than in desire.  
Look how the Elm and younger Vine,  
Mark how the Oak and Ivy twine;  
If thou'lt my vine, or Ivy be,  
I'll be or Elm, or Oak to thee,  
And if thy heat can melt my snow,  
Those joys, yet ebb, will overflow.    

The answer.  

LIce complain not if I fly,  
Since fate forbids a Sympathy.  
Could Infant spring and winter meet,  
I'd covet Lices winding sheet;  
And wed a monument with thee,  
A parchment clothed anatomy.  
Whom even but touched would ashes turn;  
Nor cures your snow, if love ere burn;  
Ne'er suppositions cold sweats free,  
Where each touch prompts an agony.  
Importunate love dry oaks o'erflies,  
To wanton in Euphormia's eyes;  
But thine affrighted in are fled,  
To seek where he lies buried:  
Whom Stibium thence can never raise;  
Mazed art despairs at times decays.    

A Palinode. On a resolution to do penance with Ashes.  

HAppy chance which hath me lent,  
Death's head to wait my time misspent.  
Some in gold do death's head wear,  
I view your looks; and read her there.  
Since dust to dust we all must go.  
He's wise who timely can do so.  
Thus ●… bequeathe my sel●… to th' grave  
While death and I even portions have.  
Thus holier Hermits choose their Cells,  
An Anchoret in his grave thus dwells.  
The Nun views death's head, book, and grave,  
Thus they have all, who nothing have.  
If I the Lady loved refined?  
Sure I must you by age calcined.  
If yellow praised, I praised you;  
You jealous were, so yellow too,  
I loved to traffic with the dead,  
Books were like you, which I have read:  
In them, as you, I times passed find;  
You'll Grandam Eve reduce to mind:  
Of good and bad show me the tree;  
Sure the fruits of knowledge are in thee:  
Since in your parchmen●… skin must lie,  
Strange records of antiquity.  
But oh can youths flames so expire,  
That I these records turn not fire?  
Of thee I would no bonfire make:  
Doth flesh for fear thy bones forsake?  
Why Palsies? fear not: who nigh lies  
Each touch of thee him mortifies,  
Blessed resurrection need he fear,  
Continual Lent who thus keeps here?  
Or wohed disdain to take the bone,  
Since all who marry have but one?  
Here is true love, to wed a mind:  
nobody here to love I find:  
Who marry flesh, they wed their lust,  
Which Christians used to charm with dust,.   

Which time turns all, turns you, and twice makes child;  
Thus my youth and your age is reconciled.  
Then why not we? come let's to Christ's Crofle row,  
There learn spell heaven, and we enough do know.    

To Eugenia.  

I'll to my Saint as 〈◊〉 to a shrine,  
Where sighs are gales for heaven, each word divine.  
I will not say that swans hatch in your breast,  
For innocence there doth keep a whiter nest.  
Or how that blushing roses drooping die,  
Bequeathing you more sweet their fragrancy:  
The odours of your virtues are Perfume  
Heaven lends from the 〈◊〉 rose you none assume.  
Or say Aurora's rosy Cheek is died  
With blushes thus to be by you outvy'd.  
Could the morning blush, ●…ure it would rather be,  
To weakness of your sex to vie with thee?  
Or that an envious paleness Cynthia dies,  
'Cause lustre is 〈◊〉 to your eyes.  
Could what we fondly fancy Moon look pale?  
You constant guilt and change might th' look entail  
Or ●…hat the twinkling Ministers of fire,  
Spangling heaven's Canopy, at your sight retire.  
If stars retreat 'tis they erraticks are,  
In honour's sphere you are a fixed star;  
Should I the earth as I have heaven read o'er,  
'twould be Eugenia but to love thee more.    

On a retired Lady.  

SSpring of beauty, Mine of pleasure,  
Why so like a miser treasure?  
Or a richer Jewel set,  
In a viler Cabinet?  
Virtue and vice  
Know but one price  
Seem both allied:  
Ne'er distinguished if ne'er try`d.   

The Sun's as fair, as bright as you,  
And yet exposed to public view:  
Whom if envious grown, or proud,  
Masks his beauty in a cloud:  
The wind and rain,  
Him back again,  
In sighs and tears,  
Woe till smiling he appears.   

Love's winged, and hasts away;  
Time is winged, and hasts to prey,  
Love deluded may fly hence:  
Retirement 'gainst times no fence:  
He'll wanton there,  
Dig Caves for care,  
Make graves for love,  
Where the blind boy ne'er durst rove:   

Ceruse nor Stihium can prevail;  
No art repairs, where age make's fail.  
Then Euphormia be not still  
A Prisoner to a fonder will.  
Nor let's in vain,  
Thus nature blame,  
'Cause she confines  
To barren grounds the richer Mines.    

To a Lady singing, mistake me not.  S. 

SOmetimes I burn  
And then to Ice return,  
There's no thing so unconstant as my mind,  
I change, I change, I change with every wind.   A. 

Fly huswife vice,  
Which canst be fire and ice;  
Go learn of th' air, go practice in a stew,  
Love ne'er proves false, proves false, that ere was true.   S. 

Perhaps in jest,  
I said I loved thee best,  
But 'twas no more than what I said before,  
I vowed, I vowed, I vowed to twenty more.   A. 

He who in jest,  
Could say he loved thee best,  
Dares jest with heaven, tempt lightness, play with fire.  
True love, true love, can neither change nor tire.   S. 

Then prithee see,  
Thou give no heart to me;  
For if I cannot keep my own a day,  
What hope, what hope, what hope, hath thine to stay.   

Then prithee see,  
Thou give no heart from me;  
For since my own hath learned at last to stay.  
What fear, what fear, what fear thine will away?    

Love winged.  

HEnce fonder Amorists Belials orisons ply,  
Who laughs at your enamelled perjury.  
O how Volatile is your toy called love!  
Which only constant doth in changing prove.  
As it begins with fire, it ends with ice:  
Change is the portion of each child of vice.  
All lusts felicities move on feet that reel:  
Who's tied to passion's tied unto a wheel.  
The Sea's more faithful, which now curls in smiles,  
And straight incensed in towering billows boils.  
Lust's'twixt a pot and glass then both more weak,  
Each touch of male content in two's may break.  
Who this day robs divinity to clothe  
His Idol, will the next it strip and loathe.    

To one wondering at my various coloured Mistress.  

LOve is begot'twixt idleness and lust;  
The mettle that's not used, can't choose but rust.  
These Codpiece loves but fancies are at best,  
They ne'er show well, if not in colours dressed.    

The vanity of Courtship devotion to relics asserted and confuted.  

While with the wiser dead I monument have,  
Intomb'●… with books, a study make a grave;  
From that more terrene part below begun,  
Vapours ascend, and obscure reasons Sun:  
My better part turned Earth, from th' dead I fly,  
To read the living, and find remedy.  
Where while a doctor's books I do turn over;  
I view a book stand by with mourning cover.  
I'm pleased to see one like myself half dead,  
Could live whose better part was buried.  
When if th' dead Doctor by his books had known,  
I would read this which still his name did own.   

What are you Lady like a Diamond set,  
To put your lustre off in mourning Jet?  
Your Doctor sure did read you more than's books,  
In them there is no physic like your looks.  
An itch of Courtship revels through my veins;  
A sight of broken meat a stomach gains:  
O I could marry, was it done in haste.  
But I am cured when once the itching's past;  
Yet for the itch no better medicine sure.  
You can't be less than a quicksilver cure;  
I'd wed a wid●…w o'er her husband's grave;  
Weed share, a foot he, I a hand would have.  
Nay, pule not rather, let those pearls be strung,  
And to enrich your neck in laces hung.  
Widows at most should but one month complain,  
The next should grieve they no new husband gain.  
What difference is twixt maid and widow known?  
Maid is a rose in bud, you're fairer blown.  
Her April face now laughs, then straight doth weep:  
Their mutual courses, joy and sorrow keep.  
A husband lost now raises Clouds of tears:  
Hopes of one present then her smiling clears;  
She neither silence knew, nor how to speak;  
Yet the vessels cracked, how can it choose but leak?  
Ah my dear husband he in peace is blessed!  
He's blessed indeed, with thee he could not rest.  
I could no husband love, had I a new,  
You could no husband love, your husband knew.  
Ah I could die? to take the ready way;  
Under a soldier you'd have entered pay.  
We have no Portia's, Martia's, Julia's here,  
From Coats, Swords, halters, we no danger fear.  
A wife, a widow, wife within an hour,  
Women like Crocodiles weep for to devour.  
They weep for more, not weep 'cause they are dead;  
They fear that gone, they gain no other head.  
Here widows faith is fleeting as her tears;  
In counterfeit the sorrow's Livery wears.  
What Proteus Polypus▪ or chameleon do;  
Or Poets feign of change in her meet true,  
Who weep alone 'tis they who truly grew;  
Who weep for others, 'tis but to deceive.  
But lest this Widow too much grief endure,  
Who grieves in jest, a jest her grief can cure;  
She'll mump and mow, now gigle, then she'll whine?  
You'd think with laughter burst, or sorrow pine.  
Thus Ladies tasters, waitingmaids who please,  
Ladies your Servants cry, give kisses fees;  
Which while they take, some skittish beasts are coy,  
And turn from that they covet to enjoy.  
'Twould cure the spleen, to see them pare their lips,  
To writhe their mouths, to th'wrigling of their hips,  
But they're no Ladies, nor we servants sure,  
Let dregs to dregs, and cracked cracked pieces cure.  
Surely civility would be strangely placed,  
Should these but brag, they could 'fore Lady's taste.  
Venus a Cat would to a woman change,  
Her shape she could, her manners not estrange:  
She peeping at a hole a mouse doth spy,  
And leaves her husband, and the hole draws nigh.  
Thus dregs of frothing nature will be apes,  
To Lads, yet no manners change with shapes.  
A gilded fly of putrefaction bred,  
By virtue's death who gains a mourning head,  
That from the dirt she her advance may show,  
She'll cast her head up, and on tiptoes go:  
A velvet Cushion stuffed out with straw,  
In plumes of generous birds a chatring Daw,  
Makes Country hobnails on the stones strike fire,  
While they her rus●…ing petticoats admire,  
Yet the subtle Fox knows th' ass i'th' lion's skin,  
He hears her bray, and knows an ass within.  
With these froth-born like boys with froth we play,  
First raise a bubble, than we blow't away.  
Talked I of Diamonds in a mourning jet,  
To put them off for greater lustre set?  
Or how that fairer widows do disclose:  
The sweets that do in●…ich the new blown rose?  
To attract straws we place that blacker jet:  
To take some poor jack-straw in black you're set.  
Don't they deride who praise th' frogs speckled skin?  
The rose that's withered, or worm-eaten in?  
Your lips, nor cheeks do not partake of th' rose,  
The glory that you gain is by the nose.  
But not so glorious sure, none near it come,  
Which by the heat don't suffer martyrdom.  
The cynqive humbly would to Statues beg.  
And to each gilded post would make a leg:  
Thus when we gilt toys see with ladies' clothes,  
What's Lady like we Lady will suppose;  
And court Idolatry to the gay rags pay,  
While fancy with these things of clouts must play;  
Each Knot love knits; each pin must wound the heart;  
And Oh 'tis rare per●…ume if she but—▪  
Scabs but emboss; or an enammels' itch;  
Pocks do engrave; Carbuncles face enrich.  
Hath she a red, a black, or yellow skin?  
O precious wench, ruby, jet gold's within.  
We beauties call what may for Mormo's pass;  
Or Acho like turn frantic by a glass;  
Or should a Conju●…er in his room them place,  
People would swear the Devil in each face?  
Yet we these puppets move by fancies wire;  
Even lay ourselves in dirt to ra●…se them higher;  
Till raised, themselves and us they cease to know;  
Abuse seems Courtship, who deride them woe:  
We court bad faces not to please our sense,  
But thus to mortify our Concupiscence.  
Sometimes a death's head a devotion rears,  
To say a prayer, it kisle, and leave with tears,  
I never see the ruins of a face,  
But dust to dust I cry, and straight embrace.  
Yet my embraces here in bed sh●…el mere,  
Brings husband's bones, or her own winding sheet.  
But should my sins bring an untimely grave,  
I'd a rare Monument rich embalming have:  
My A●…t should teach the snake new skin assume,  
Or else i'd bribe corruption with perfume.  
Her gold, pearl, Diamonds should my Cordials be,  
Against each touch would prompt an agony.  
Salacious birds lusts sacrifice should attend;  
And spawning fishes should their Lecheries lend;  
Potato, Skirret, and Eringo r●…ot,  
Satyrion Cod resembling should recruit;  
I'd strength of earth, of beasts the marrow have;  
At second hand i'd give but what 〈◊〉 gave.  
But oh for dirt who would in Earth entomb,  
Earth, Air, and Sea can't fate a barren womb.  
That gallant wretch which did up Holborn●…ide,  
Presented with the choice of rope or bride;  
With a reprieve a lovely piece he spies;  
With sparrow mouth, frog skin, and ferrets eyes,  
Whose barren womb, might but a brothel be,  
Where twins are murder and adultery:  
Marriage and hanging both are De●…tiny,  
Cried give the easier, hangman let me die.  
Brave soul, in honour's Catalogue have room;  
Better the cursed tree, than cursed womb.  
Nuptials fill earth; virginity fills heaven;  
To barren Widows; ah what place is given?  
Hence of corruption bred you gayer moths;  
No virtue know; but what you find in clothes.  
Know no religion, 'bove a sundays dress;  
No heaven, but there where golden Angels bless.  
Who you twixt froth of Cups and fancy Court,  
'Tis not to gain them love, but gain them sport.  
Tired with the graver looks of Madam book,  
Thus nature's Pamphlets we in sport o'er look.  
When vines shall leave the Elm, with Colewor●…s twine;  
And serpent's Court the Ash, thou shalt be mine.  
Anthus and Aegithus blood shall mingled be;  
The panther and Hyena's skin agree;  
The Oak, and Olive, Walnut, and Oak agree;  
And masking nature leave antipathy;  
Till then, from the Philosopher I'll vary,  
Said beasts chose like, but man his contrary.  
But if I needs my contrary must choose,  
Of all thy sex I could not thee refuse.  
Disgrace of Poetry hence, be thou his theme  
Who whistling cools the horsetails of his team.  
Let him cool thine by fanning thus thy breech,  
Or else the horsewhip take to cure the itch.  
Shine out bright stars in honours hemisphe●…r.  
I'll raise my fortunes, ●…x my fancy there.    

Donec gratus eram. Horatij. A Dialogue betwixt two Lovers.  

While that our souls and arms did twine  
In amorous circling like the vine,  
Should regal pomp with me but vie,  
'Twould prove enamelled slavery.   

While no fond flames of loose desire,  
Did warm thy breast with alien fire,  
Crowned joys with mine, but placed in scale,  
No minute's joy could countervail.   

Exotic Chloe rules my heart;  
Learned to tempt souls to th' ear by art;  
For both could one death us suffice,  
Love should make death a sacrifice.   

An amorous youth with mutual fire,  
Meets in complacence my desire,  
For whom I once, nay, twice could die,  
Could death admit security.   

But what if Venus should return,  
And fires that glow in ashes burn?  
While she revokes to yokes of brass,  
Our Love's more brittle far than glass.   

Though stars are then my love less fair,  
Cork not so light, as thee, or air,  
Rocks not so deaf, or angry Seas,  
I●… true, I'd Court thee a disease:    

To Lydia. Instar Lydiae Horatianae.  

When men enrich thy neck with praise,  
And glories with no rose displays,  
Thy arms which wax do imitate,  
My gall impostumed swells with hate:  
I burn while sots thy skin defile,  
And rosebuds in thy lips do spoil:  
To leave love-marks, trust me in vain,  
They love not, who dare lips profane.  
Ah be not prodigal of bliss!  
Venus makes Nectar of a kiss.  
Happy thrice, nay more, for ever:  
Where loves chain is broken never;  
Nor rash complaint, a link can force,  
While death su●…s forth a long divorce.    

E Martiale.  

CRas te victurum, cras dicis, `posthume semper:  
Dic mihi cras istud posthume quando venit?  
Quam longe cras istud? ubi est? aut unde petendum?   

Thou sayst thou wilt to morrow live to morrow ever:  
When will that morrow come, ah tell me? never.  
How far's that morrow? whence? where to be fetched?  
What can the Parthians, or Armenians teached  
What hath it Priam's age? or Nestor's years?  
Is't to be bought? tell me what price it bears?  
Thou sayst thou wilest too morrow live, this day's too late;  
Yesterday's life, shoul d this days Antedate.    

To Agatha an unfortunate piece of goodness E. P. a golden Mine obscured in dirt:  

DIrt and Gold are in one Mine:  
A place of sin thou dost refine:  
For greater lustre thus are set,  
Bright Diamonds by blacker jet.  
Come gaudy antics, transformed Apes,  
By virtue's glass here mend your shapes:  
Who would of virtue picture take,  
He by this pattern must it make.  
Come heretics of the sex, a sight,  
Of her may make a Proselyte:  
Her words 'gainst sin are charms, each look,  
An Atheist to reform's a book.  
If blessed are the meek in spirit?  
If th' peaceful th' Kingdom shall inherit?  
Where virtues, graces, blessings meet,  
Shall not that soul be made complete?  
They're truly noble who are good,  
Virtue makes noble and not blood.  
If Parents virtues dowries are,  
How rich is 〈◊〉 must be your heir.    

On Marriage.  

THough for my fancy mistresses I choose,  
Yet when I marry i'll my judgement use,  
When I my body wed, i'll wed my mind:  
Give me a love that sees, not lust that's blind.  
For lasting pleasure who would take a flower?  
Who beauty love; they love but for an hour.  
Wed riches, they have wings, love with them flies:  
An Ox is gilded thus for sacrifice.  
Nor would I poverty nurse to malcontent;  
The snake i'th' bosom iodged, with sting paid rent.  
Nor while I fear't, for dirt take dunghill race,  
How can they not be foul who dirt embrace.  
I must have virtues, if not fortunes heir,  
Since Parents virtues greatest dowries are.  
Nor love I those who boast of generous blood.  
But those whose generous actions prove it good.  
Or will I wrong the ashes of the dead,  
Disturb his bones while I his relic wed.  
A widow's lust may live whose love is dead,  
The Leek hath a green tail with a grey head,  
Since Adam first was formed and then built Eve,  
To rotten bones why should my young flesh cleave.  
Who used to strike a League some blood did draw,  
Who gain a maidenhead do renew the Law.  
Love thus must enter, grow as we grow in years,  
The garment's best long, as we need it wears.  
Mexentius like they dead with living twine,  
Who youth and age in marriage do combine.  
They who this more than Gordin knot do knit,  
Must tie two souls in one by tying it.  
Like to Hippocates twins both laugh and cry,  
Their hearts by th' same strings tuned both live and die.  
Passion must never enter reasons seat,  
While fury enters loves in a retreat.  
If drink like Circe's Cup transforms to swine,  
Then take no cups, a beast made she's not thine.  
As Saints to Altars, so to bed repair▪  
Love hath his Altars, bring chaste oft●…rings there.  
He gives not●…s own gives not flesh's own made due,  
Yet love can Temples make where Lust a stew.  
That you may freely souls breathe in each other,  
Quench th'●…rand in love's fire, love delights may smother  
Hell's firebrand jealousy send from whence it came,  
Loves purer fire to heaven sends purer flame.  
He who will think his wife an ill can do,  
Ill by suspicion he'll instruct her to.  
Study you virtue, she will studv thee,  
Children will Copy to posterity.  
So while love souls and arms together twine  
In amorous circlings like two wanton Vines;  
Like Vines made fertile, you may twist a line  
So firm with love knots ages can't untwine.  
Knit that Knot wisely ages can't undo,  
Peter's Keys loose, and Paul's sword cut in two.  
Where we must see, not hate faults who detects,  
A crime in marriage shows his own defects.  
When she is mine should each part turn disease,  
Her griefs must trouble not herself displease.  
The scarface pock love deeper should engrave,  
And not make holes where Love should burying have.  
Or should a leprosy revel through her skin,  
To make't more rich I'd think't embroidered in.  
Who for a case a Jewel would contemn,  
A viler shell may lodge a richer Gem.  
Though fair and foul i'd make away to heaven,  
The fair's a picture for devotion given.  
And if a fouler piece we can't call Saint,  
we'll use't as some to fright sin, Devils paint.  
Yet know 'tis love or virtue must make fair,  
Else nothing's so but as our fancies are.  
'Tis love a multitude of faults can cover,  
Who'd know nor see no fault, let him turn lover.  
Love doth the body of the Church Cement,  
Christ's Coat had no seam nor Church must have rent.  
Christ's Coat and Church of wedlock emblems be,  
Can it be marriage where they disagree?  
Sure they renew his cross, gall, nails and spear  
His body rend who make divisions there.  
Whom God makes one contention can make two,  
You with your wife not one, Gods none with you.  
While Adam s●…ept, God him an Eve did make,  
Passions must sleep while you a wife do take.  
God took the rib which circumvolves the heart,  
So near allied nothing but death should part.  
A rib doth soonest break to bend inclined,  
Wives bend used gently, break when you're unkind.  
marriage is contract man, there takes his bone,  
Bone 'tis by Contract th'word implies be one.  
To me imperfect Lord if thou addest a bone,  
Let th'fall from virtue make't no broken one.    

On the World.  

THe world's a monster in whose will's a hell;  
Where passions Devil-like tormenting dwell;  
Where flattered senses placed in array;  
Th' soul's ruin menace, and our life's decay;  
If men do good, 'tis 'cause they ill don't know:  
Not virtues principle doth instruct them so.  
Who is no Monster doth a Monster seem:  
'tis only prosperous vice men virtue deem.  
I thought folly to be wise, none do aspire  
To knowledge, things unknown have no desire.  
`` Of darkness understanding is a pit,  
Reason a shop of malice keeps in it.  
His eyes two windows, let in loose desire;  
Forges of flames, mouth bellows for hell fire.  
Where th'veil is rent, which modesty did hide,  
While th'bloods inflamed, and the tongue untied.  
Even remedies turn diseases, none converse  
To better others; but themselves make worse.  
Garbs, modes, alliance, men like women c●…eek,  
Less value is then silence all they speak:  
Hands harpies talons, bent for rapine are;  
The serpent's sting he in his tongue doth bear.  
Each bout Corruption's busy as a fly,  
Buzz, make a noise, infect what they come nigh.  
To virtue scandal, tinder lend to sin,  
By th'gate of sense while evil enters in.  
The souls surprised in a golden snare;  
Coined for their profit, men's Religions are.  
Poison of Asps within each lip doth lie;  
Each face a Vizard's of hypocrisy.  
Breast sponge of filth, which should a temple be;  
A Den of thieves, Cage of Impiety:  
For Faith doth strong imagination own;  
No God but Passion hath, or th'Belly known.  
He's a rare man Restoratives can invent,  
To make lust live, even where the flesh is spent.  
Of raging lusts each breast's a troubled sea;  
Inhabited by wild thoughts men deserts be.  
Here th'Vulture envy gnaws upon the heart;  
Th' Eagl●… ambition there makes th'liver smart.  
The tympany o●… pride swells till it bursts;  
Of avarice th'dropsy in whole rivers thirsts:  
Of hell where Devils and the Furies dwell;  
Sure th'prince of th'world with's subjects here make hell.  
The world's a monster, Lord, doth menace me;  
To Monsters tame's a conquest fit for thee;  
The spear which pierced thy side may th'monster wound:  
Or to thy Cross nailed in thy blood be drowned.  
What though th'old Dragon threaten to devour?  
'Gainst judah's Lion he can have no power.  
Ith' shadow, Lord, of death how shall I fear,  
If thou which art my life and light draw near?    

On Our Father.  

Who disobey, can I Lord, Father call?  
Pronounce in heaven, my thoughts ne'er there at all.  
'Tis I my God have sinned 'gainst heaven and thee,  
Blinded by sin so high I cannot see.  
How shall he Lord say, Hallowed be thy name  
Profanes thy Image, takes in vain the same?  
Thy names a sacrifice, Lord, which will require,  
To hallow it of flaming zeal a fire.  
But where of Lust's a furnace in the heart,  
Of good desires can it a Lamp impart?  
Or what is Lord, thy kingdom unto me,  
While th'world, flesh, devil, here keep anarchy?  
Yet Lord, 'tis everywhere, thy powers in hell,  
But with Saints only dost in mercy dwell.  
Can I desire thy Will may Lord be done?  
Which 'gainst thy Will after my own will run.  
How shall I beg for bread, or it obtain;  
For dogs, my Lusts, thy children's bread would gain?  
As I forgive, would I have thee remit;  
Thou without mercy shouldst in Judgement sit.  
Revenge boils in my heart, but there doth lie,  
Alas, froze near my heart, cold Charity.  
Would I into temptation not be led  
Who run into it? am to virtue dead,  
Unto myself temptation, a strange devil,  
Incarnate made, a forge to frame out evil.  
Tongue of the aged Serpent is the sting;  
My lips are gates which unto death do bring:  
But Lord, the kingdom, Power, and Glory's thine;  
Let th'Kingdome, Power, and Glory in me shine.  
Thou Lord a Kingdom makest where thou art;  
A glimpse of thine a Paradise doth impart:  
Lord by thy presence heaven make in my heart:  
So shall I Father cry which in heaven art.  
A heau'n-inspiring zeal with th'heart inflame,  
A sacrifice make't, to hallow Lord thy name.  
Thy Kingdom come of grace; will shall be done,  
In Earth as heaven; while Earth a heaven hath won.  
Then shall I daily be with Manna fed:  
Have thee within Lord who art heavens' sole bread.  
Then shall I be forgiven Lord, and forgive;  
Can't he want charity who with love doth live?  
Into temptation than I can't be led;  
Thou art th'door, truth, light, way, that I must tread:  
How can from ill I not delivered be?  
Who have a Rock, a Tower, a shield in thee;  
Thine is the Kingdom, power, and glory's thine;  
Oh shall I not have all when thou art mine?    

Incerta poenitentia.  

EAch day a market is, where we do buy,  
Or unto sale expose eternity.  
Each day's a ring with good deeds it engrave;  
At the lamb's wedding you this ring must have.  
Time golden Harvests each day doth present;  
The times to be redeemed that is misspent.  
On the back of sin, sorrow and shame doth wait,  
Repentance hasts, ne'er overtakes or late.  
To all to grieve, few to repent is given.  
Whichis begot like pearls of th' dew of heaven,  
Happy in this snow-water bathe their soul;  
It can the burnings of their lust make whole.  
More weep for sin that sin doth them forsake;  
Then that by sin they God an enemy make;  
Such water doth augment, not quench Hell flame;  
'Tis true Contritions floods must quench the same,  
Practice of lives not tongues must Christians make;  
He leaves not sin, leaves it doth him forsake.  
He loves not God who for himself don't love;  
Who's glued to earth, shall ne'er know God above.  
A Judas here impiety may veil,  
With kisses, vengeance slow, yet sure, can't fail;  
He'll break in two, discover his black soul,  
If timely penance wipe not sins black scroll.  
Lord let me hear thy voice while 'tis to day;  
Lest hardened in sins wilderness I stray.  
Unto the fiery serpent's sting I pray;  
While I forsake thee Lord who art the way.    

Certamors.  

Watches, and clocks all but the last hour sound,  
That hour should in our conscience be found  
Sure death's a riddle; th' tablet all unfold,  
By none the meaning can of it be told.  
Yet th' soul surprised in lust, hell is her share:  
Hell where of misery the Abysses are.  
Hell th'Common-shore of all the filth of th'world:  
Where th'fewel of God's wrath in fire is hurled:  
Where the Salamander-lust shall bathe in fire,  
Which here anticipates Hell in loose desire.  
On Earth by Euthymy who a heaven don't find,  
The Hell hereafter feels, hath here in mind.  
But oh where's Conscience virtues Correlate?  
Which sugars tears, and survives even in fate?  
Where's that delicious torrent of delight,  
Glancing i'th' Cage of flesh a heavenly light?  
From the love of God this alchemy redounds,  
Iron to gold turns, and disgrace to crowns.  
Can he want light, dwells in th'midst of th'Sun?  
Thirst, from whose belly living waters run?  
Would he have meat? thy flesh is meat indeed:  
By faith on thee we may sweet jesu feed.  
Can he want clothing, Lord, may put on thee?  
Nor medicine have? of Life thou art the Tree.  
Who wants direction? thou a●…t Lord the Way,  
The Light, Door, Truth, to guide them thee obey.  
Lord come unto my soul, bid it be thine:  
So death shall have no power, when life is mine.    

On the Resurrection.  

ARise, my God, my Sun arise:  
Arise, thy side  
My sin doth hide;  
Thy blood makes pure,  
Thy wounds me cure,  
He ever lives, who with thee dies:  
Arise, my God, my Sun arise.   

Abysses on Abysses call:  
Who God denies  
First to him flies;  
Where fiends could dwell,  
And make an hell.  
The first sees heaven of all:  
Abysses on Abysses call.   

See! ah see me purpled o'er!  
The scarlets thine,  
Though th'sin were mine:  
Thine was the grave  
My sins would have.  
The rising thin●…, I would implore.  
See! ah see me purpled o'er!   

In mercy, Lord, in mercy rise:  
Emit a ray,  
And make a day,  
Where sins black night  
Hath ravished light.  
Thou to the blind Lord first gav'st eye;  
In mercy, Lord, in mercy 〈◊〉.   

This day we Resurrection call:  
Remove the stone,  
My sins are one:  
Ah buried in  
The grave of sin:  
Shall I no rising have at all?  
This day we Resurrection call.   

Come thou Abyss of sweetness, come:  
Come my dear Lord,  
Say but the word  
Unto my Soul,  
I shall be whole.  
Thou for thyself mak●…st only ●…oom:  
Come thou Abyss of sweetness, come.    

Ad Animam.  

QUid lenta cessas? ah moraris! I, pete,  
Ignicule sancte Coelites.   

Hinc, hinc, prophana, procul in anis, ●…mpia,  
Hinc execrata vanitas.   

Io triumphe! proh sona victrix! Io  
Triumphe, reboent aethera.   

En! en reperta est! quae petita fletuum  
Torrente pragma sedul.   

En lota prodit! en nitens! en quam refert,  
Puram creantis imaginem!   

Io triumphe; plaude Coelitum chore  
Redeunte plaude prodigo.   

Humana sileant? en loquuntur Angeli!  
Quam digna sphaeris musica est?    

The Leper cleansed.  

HEar, Lord, hear  
The rhetoric of a tear:  
Hear, hear my breast;  
While I knock there, Lord take no rest.   

Open! ah open wide,  
Thou art the door, Lord, open; hide  
My sin; a spear once entered at thy side.   

See! ah see  
A na'mans' leprosy!  
Yet here appears  
A cleansing Jordan in my tears.   

Lord, let the faithless see  
Miracles ceased, revive in me.  
The Leper cleansed, blind healed, Dead raised by thee.   

Whither? ah whither shall I fly,  
To heaven? my sins, ah sins there cry!  
Yet mercy, Lord, O mercy! hear  
Th'atoning incense of my prayer.  
A broken heart thou'lt not despise.  
See! see a Contrites sacrifice!  
Keep, keep, viols of wrath keep still:  
I'll viols Lord of odours fill:  
O prayers, sighs, groans, and tears a shower;  
This precious ointment forth i'll power:  
I'll 'noint, wash, wipe, kiss, wash, wipe, weep;  
My tears Lord in thy bottle keep.  
Lest flames of lust, and fond desire,  
Kindle fresh fuel for thine ire,  
Which tears must quench, like Magdalene,  
I'll wash thee Lord, till I be clean.    

The good Samaritan.  

WHy art so sad my soul? ah why  
Doth sorrow make thy bones all dry?  
Shall my sin speak so loud, and I not cry?   

Thou good Samaritane save,  
See, every wound's a grave,  
Sins were the thieves, let me thy mercies have.   

See how the priests with them partake!  
And by not pitying new wounds make.  
Can pass with hearts unmoved though their heads shake▪   

Nor tears, nor wounds, can pity win:  
Thy words the twopence; heaven Lord the Inn.  
Thy blood the oil, must cure the wounds of sin.   

Up, up my soul, make haste, arise:  
Yet be not rash, beware, be wise,  
Heaven loves not a fool's sacrifice.   

The vale's for servants; sin unloose;  
'Tis holy ground; put off thy shoes;  
An Isaac for an offering choose.   

Let not an Ishmael with him share:  
So up my soul, up, offer there;  
Besiege, armed, enter heaven by prayer.   

What though thy sins in troops like stars,  
Have menaced heaven so o●…t to wars?  
Heaven conquering prayers atones the jars.   

Rise Sun; stars shall appear no more.  
See ah fresh sins like ●…ands of th' shore!  
Pennance lends floods to hide them o'er.    

Vox poenitentiae.  

Ay, I, ah I thee Lord betrayed!  
While sin strange insurrections made;  
I, I, like him with lips durst kiss,  
Who sought out's hell, at gates of bliss.  
My sins ah scourges buffets are;  
My sins ah thorns, thy temples tore.  
My sin presents the spear, nails, gall,  
Renews thy sweat, death, burial.  
Yet while I Lord with Mary come,  
Early with spices to thy tomb;  
With balm of penance waiting there,  
To offer odours up in prayer.  
After repentant showers of dew,  
Angels my Sun's arise shall show.  
Hark, hark, who's both the light and way,  
Calls thee my soul, make haste, obey.  
Ah loads of sin and flesh! can I  
A Camel pass a needle's eye?  
Say, oh say not! tha●… heaven gate  
Too narrow is, or way too straight.  
Faith and good works can dispossess,  
Thee both thy loads, of sin, and flesh;  
And so conveied on wings of prayer.  
Thou Mayst like incense enter there.  
So shalt thou find a way not straight,  
He kneels who enters at heaven gate.    

Spirit, Flesh.  S. 
ARis●…, make haste:  F. 
Wither? ah whither flies my soul so fast?  S. 
Heaven calls, obey.  F. 
'Tis night; ah stay! 'tis night! thou'lt lose thy way,  S. 
The day springs rose.  F. 
Ah but thy sin black clouds doth interpose!  S. 

Those penance clears;  
The Sun succeeds a sacred dew of tears,  
See a full shower!  
Heaven suffers voyolence by an holy Power,   F. 
Ah heaven is high!  S. 

Prayer lends a Jacobs' ladder to the sky.  
Angels descend,   F. 
Wrestle, ah wrestle! blessing crowns the end.   

Soul and Christ.  C. 
SEE! see Grace with her widened arms!  S. 

No Adder's here,  
To stop an ear,  
'Gainst soul engaging Graces charms.  
Speak Lord, O speak, thy servant hears.   C. 
Come ye who thirst.  S. 

Lord give me first,  
And in thy bottle put my tears.   C. 
The laden's called, haste my soul, haste.  S. 

Lord seest not these?  
Ah Mountains! Seas!  
How? how? ah how are these o'erpast?   C. 

To faith my soul, fly, fly, ne'er stay:  
Faith can cast these  
Mountains i'th' seas:  
Faith through a Red sea made her way.   S. 

Lord, though my sins like Mountains be,  
A grain of Faith  
Still Virtue hath:  
Thy blood sweet Jesus a Red-sea.    

Of Prayer.  

AWay cold hypocrite, away:  
Why art not heard? couldst ever pray?  
Didst heaven in flames of zeal aspire?  
Like th'prophet carried up in fire.  
What sympathy hath day with night?  
Communicates darkness with the light?  
Where lust, revenge, and passion shrowds,  
Can heaven be found through such black clouds?  
Talk not of faith, the Devils do  
Believe as much, know more than you;  
Nay do more good, though none allow;  
They at that Name thou slightest, forced bow.  
Could such works save, they thee outdo;  
They have their fear and trembling too.  
Wouldst thou no more thine asking miss:  
Learn then no more to ask amiss.   

Thyself sweet Lord, thyself, I ask no more,  
Heaven hath no joy without thee, Earth no store.    

To the Soul.  

DUll soul aspire,  
Thou art not earth, mount higher:  
Heaven gave the spark, to it return the fire.   

Let sin ne'er quench,  
Thy high flamed spirit hence  
The earth the heat, to heaven the flame dispense.   

Rejoice, rejoice,  
Turn, turn each part a voice:  
While to the heartstrings tuned ye all rejoice.   

The house is swept,  
Which sin so long foul kept:  
The penny's found for which the loser wept.   

And purged with tears,  
God's Image re-appears,  
The penny truly shows whose stamp it bears.   

The sheep long lost,  
Sin's wilderness oft crossed,  
Is found, regained, returned; spare, spare no cost.   

'Tis heaven's own suit,  
Hark how it woos you to't:  
When Angels needs must speak, shall man be mute?    

On the Nativity.  

AH my dear Lord, what shall I give  
To thee, who gav'st thy ●…elf for me?  
Since thou couldst die, how shall I live?  
Shall I not daily die with thee?  
This is the day which thou didst make:  
Teach me Lord, teach me to rejoice.  
Shall I the shepherd's music take?  
Or to thine Angels tune my voice?  
My Bread, Life, Vine, Truth, Door, Light, Way,  
All fullness meets my Lord in thee.  
What can I worse than nought repay,  
Thee heaven's all made so low for me?  
To thee both Prophet, Priest and King,  
I have no treasury to ope.  
I can no spices off rings bring,  
But Odours of an heart that's broke,  
Lord, let this incense offered up,  
As a sweet smelling savour be:  
So of salvation I the Cup  
Shall take, and call my God on thee.   

Whilst Gold refi●…'d, I tribute bring  
Myself thine Image to my King.     

The Contents.  

THe Poet, pag. 1  
On the Soul, 4  
The fruit of Paradise, 6  
On the Masters of the Science of defence in controversy, 8  
Jesuite, 9  
The Church, ib.  
The polemic Protestant D. 10  
The Presbyter, 11  
Prophanum vulgus: The People, 13  
On servile Will, irrespective Election and Reprobation, ib.  
Sectaries, 15  
enthusiastics, 16  
Beraean, ib.  
Fiduciary, 17  
In multiplicem Schismatis Hydram: universal Leprosy, 18  
On the Umbraticall Doctors on the Romish Party, ib.  
On the Fencers for Religion, 19  
B. jewel, 20  
Doctor Whitaker, 20  
Doctor Field on the Church, ib.  
Dr. White, Sir H. Lynd, Dr. Featley in answer to Lyndomastix, ib.  
Mr. Perkins, ib.  
Dr. Usher, ib.  
Mr. Chillingworth against Knot, 21  
Mr. Brightman on the Revelation, ib.  
Mr. Mede. ib.  
Dr. Potter▪ ib.  
Mr. Cotton, ib.  
On Bishop Laud against Fisher. ib.  
On Doctor Hammond, 22  
To a Lawyer who said, Though men might speak against those that are called gospelers, none justly against them were called Lawyers, 23  
On M●…gna Charta, 24  
The Character of loyal Friendship: To his Honoured Coz Euseby Petsant, 25  
To the Son of the late King, 27  
News for news to a degenerate Cavalier, 28  
To a degenerate thing falsely called a Noble, 29  
A Character of a complete Gentleman: To John Cotton Esq Heir to the Kn●…wledge and Virtue, as well as to the Honour and Fortunes of his Ancestors. To his Coz. Geo: Boswel Esq rich in Desert as Fortune, 30  
Nobility ennobled. A Character of the most excellent M●…rquis of Dorehester, Earl of Kingston, The Lord Pierrepont, 32  
On Thomas Lord Wentworth Earl.. of Strafford, ib.  
Summum jus summa injuria in jure Regni, 33  
On Poverty, 34  
The pleasures of the world, 35  
A defence of Curiosity: An unsettled mind in unsettled times; to weak Calumny and proud Ignorance, ●…6  
The Character of a good Widow. Memoriae sacrum Heroniae adeo exoptatissimae & medullitus dilectiss. materterae, Eliz. Boswel. Epitaph. 39  
On the death of Mistress E. Kinesm, whom age had transformed to a Skeleton, ib.  
To a painted Lady, a Calf spotted, lust's Idol, like the Idol of the Egyptians, 40  
To a Lady of Pleasure, 41  
To his Lady Book, 43  
On Retirement, 45  
Man a Microcosm, 46  
Of the Blood, ib.  
On the Humours, 48  
On the Elements, ib.  
Aga●…nst Phlebotomy to a Leech, ib.  
For Phlebotomy, 49  
A pisspot Prophet, ib.  
To a Gigger to Padua, Valentia, and Leyden Doctors, 51  
On Suburban non-Licentiates, who foxlike call the college Grapes sour, 52  
On the excellent Dr. Glisson, ib.  
The sequestered Priest piddling in physic, 53  
The fugitive chemic, ib.  
On Sigils, ib.  
On the astrological Quack, 54  
Oglio of Quacks▪ ib.  
On Noah Big's vanity of the Craft of physic, 55  
On Noah Bigs, 56  
On Fontinell's, ib.  
On Van Helmont, 57  
On Doctor Harvey. ib.  
On Dr. George Ent, 59  
On Dr. Brown his Religio Medi●…i and Vulgar Errors, 60  
On Dr. George bowl of Oundle, 61  
On the death of his inviscerately affected friend Richard Watson Esq Chryrurgeon to his late Majesty of England, 62  
The Poetaster, ib.  
On Homer, 63  
On Scalige●…, 64  
On Musaeus. ib.  
On Hesiod. ib.  
On Theocritus, Mosius, and Theognis, 65  
On Virgil, ib.  
Chymerica Poesis: On the sight of a yellow skined Lady, 66  
The praise of a yellow skin: or an Elizabeth in Gold, 67  
To a Lady wondering why I praised a yellow skin, 68  
To Aureola, or the yellow skined Lady; asking who could love a Fancy, 69  
To a refined Lady▪ 70  
On an Ethiopian beauty, M. S. ib.  
Of the black Lady with grey eyes and white tooth, 71  
The praise of his Mistress, ib.  
On a blue Point given by a Lady on Valentine's day to her Valentine, and preached against by a Parson who called it a Rag of Superstition, 73  
On the refined Lady, 74  
On the wearing of the Tag of her blue P●…int▪ ib.  
On Pentepicta: A Lady with enameled Teeth, black, white and yellow; F. W. 75  
On Flavia: A yellow haired Lady, E. W. ib.  
On a Crooked Lady, M. V. 76  
The praise of Thick and Short, 77  
To Dionysia the plump Lady, S D. ib.  
On Monocula, a one ey●…d Lady, M. W. 78  
To Eugenia, a defence of juvenile wildeness●…, 79  
To a man of Office under the late K. who called Detraction Love, and Calumny Good counsel 80  
The ingenious Lady E. V. to I. L. contemning h●…r age, 81  
The Answer, ib.  
A Palinode. On a resolution to do penance with Ashes, 82  
To Eugenia, 83  
On a retired Lady, 84  
To a Lady singing, Mistake me not, 85  
Love winged, 86  
To one wondering at my various coloured Mistress, ib.  
The vanity of Courtship devotion to relics, asserted and confuted, 87  
Donec gratus eram. Horatij. A Dialogue betwixt two Lovers, 92  
To Lydia. Instar Lydiae Horatirnae, 93  
E Martiale, ib.  
To Agatha an unfortunate piece of goodness E P. a golden Mine obscured in dirt, 94  
On Marriage, 95  
On the World, 97  
On Our Father, 99  
Incerta poenitentia, 010  
Certamors, rrecti 101  
On the Resu●… 102  
Ad Animam, 103  
The Leper cleansed. 104  
The good Samaritan, 105  
Vox Poenitentiae, 106  
Spirit, Flesh, 107  
Soul and Christ, ib.  
Of Prayer, 108  
To the Soul, 109  
On the Nativity, 110   
FINIS.