FLOWERS Strewed by the MUSES, Against the coming of the most Illustrious Infanta of PORTUGAL Catharina Queen of ENGLAND.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
— Tibi lilia plenis  
Ecce ferunt Nymphae calathis—  
By John Crouch Gent.  
LONDON Printed for Francis Kirkman and Henry Marsh at the Prince's Arms in Chancery Lane, 1662.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Henry Marquis of DORCHESTER, Earl of Kingston, Viscount Newark, And one of his MAJETIES most Honourable Privy Council.  
May it please your Lordship,  
THe humble presenter of this Poem (once your Lordships I Domestic, had almost said your Favourite) is as well acquainted with your Lordship's goodness, as your Lordship can be with his unworthiness; and therefore stands more in need of Merit then Encouragement: However his Subject (the greatest and best of Princes) will easily court your Lordship to the kindest Reception: Since his Majesty's Royal Spouse is now become the care of the Priest, it is time She should appear the joy of the Poet; and have Her Canticles as well as Prayrrs. My Lord the Author's presumption in borrowing your name to adorn his Frontespiece, hach two honest and Honourable Designs (to be improved by your Lordship's Favour) the one is an Ambition to proclaim his Allegiance by so great and glorious a Herald of all Honour, Virtue and Learning: by so Noble a Confessor of a Martyrd cause; which Your Wisdom and Courage maintained to its last and longest breathing. Oxford (that Loyal Sphere of clouded Majesty) may, without the use of Sophisms, vindicate your Lordshes. untainted Reputation; whose early surrender you so strenuously opposed. His other design (as innocent though not so honourable as the former) is, to make the world a witness (too corrupt to be a Judge) how much Duty and Service is owing to your Lordship, from  
My Lord, Your Lordship's most humble Servant, JO. CROUCH.   

Upon the approach of the most Illustrious Infanta of PORTUGAL, Queen of England  

A Prologue to the following Poem.  

AFter such Dire Scenes this Romantic Age  
Acted in England, on her public stage;  
Vicisitudes the Sun nor Moon ere saw,  
Moving without the Circle of their Law;  
When faith racked on the wheel, and screwed too high,  
Suspected sense, grew jealous of the Eye:  
What can be strange? posterity may tell  
Some little wonders, no new miracle.   

Time with expanded wings, has things revealed,  
Like the Spheres, glorious, but by clouds concealed;  
The Spheres those plastic wheels, which Sages say,  
Inform us, as the Potter forms his clay:  
Rapt with whose motion, Ptolemies sharpest spies  
Midst bright Intelligences lost their eyes,  
Though ' assisted with auxiliary light  
Of Sun, Moon, Starrs; inlightued into Night.   

Dull Ignorance has still a Gazer been,  
Of truths, not as Perplexed, but not foreseen;  
The People fear to be surprised with good,  
Traduce all Acts by them not understood;  
Which yet in wisdom's balance poised, are found,  
Full weight, and Fools Absurdities proved sound:  
Can popular Pride make good its bold appeal,  
Heaven nor the King should have their Privy Seal  
Happy that man, who learnt in Nature's Laws,  
Admires th'Effect because he knew the Cause!  
But Kings sit in a higher Orb, and so  
Discover Stars, not seen by us below;  
Act their clear wills, and then a licence give,  
For curious Eyes, to use their Perspective.    

The Poem.  

A Match with Portugal? Good news but strange!  
Believe me 'tis a Royal New Exchange!  
(We once (affairs so inauspicious stood)  
Mingled in slaughters, now in kinder blood.  
Heaven that pacific Throne, serenely wise,  
Makes two strange Nations strangely sympathise!  
(One lately ravished from the eagle's claws,)  
(One later, from a Bears untoward Paws.) 
cromwell   
Link not in League but Love, join Hearts and Hands;  
Thames sylver streams, with Tagus' golden sands.   

East, West, North, South, (so opposite) may share  
In tempers, mix affections, though not Air,  
If in this vast bulk of the World there be  
A Form or Soul doubtless 'tis sympathy:  
Hence conflicts kindness; ills compassion move,  
Extremes dispute themselves into a Love:  
This match, to prove great Digbys Secret good  
Cured two States by the sympathy of blood.  
Time before now has known the British Sun, 
Henry 2.   
In converse with the Lusitanian Moon;  
Our Prince in honour of the Foreign Maid  
Though Black himself, against the Moors sent aid.  
Some Legends talk of Interests as near  
As those famed Duellers, York and Lancaster.  
Crown-Controversies well espouse and Wed  
Make best Convinctions in the Nuptial Bed.   

Thy Catharina, Charles, approacheth nigh:  
South Winds blow-warme, not from the Austrian Sky:  
Fair Catharina, favourite of same,  
whose virtue is her Nature and her name! 
Purity.   
Since Edward's Resormation first began  
We ne'er had such a gracious Puritan!  
From whose pressed lips divinest Nectar flows  
An air of Spices with her motion goes:  
Her eyes though black, so quick and piercing bright.  
Sparkles like Stars through clouds, make darkness light:  
But her best Excellencies, glories, bless,  
Like Heaven's, are rich invisibilities:  
He that hath eyes can reach a virtuous mind,  
May there fair Catharin's Beauty find:  
Shall there the greatness of her spirit see  
Raised on a Column of Humility.  
When joys exalt the lustre of her Eye,  
Her Soul descends as low as Heaven is high.  
One that a glorious Cabinet views, may guests  
By that first cost how rich the jewel is!   

Join happy payr! your Ring is richly set,  
But still the Diamond thanks the friendly jet:  
Mix your majestic Locks, those mystic bands  
At home are amorous and abroad commands:  
Black and yet lovely must not be denied,  
Enamoured Heaven courts a dark-featured Bride,  
When th' Altars Coal in flames of Incense glow's  
there's no such beauty in the fairest Rose.  
Nature's first Cabinet, wore this Royal Hue,  
From whence (unlocked) a world of Beauties flew:  
From whose rich Blackness sprang the Sun, Moon, Stars,  
Fire, Aire, Earth, Sea, Espoused by their Jars.  
Nor Nature, nor Apelles ever made  
Sun shine, or Picture smile without a shade!  
Beloved Black! whose never altered die,  
Gathers the optics and unites the Eye:  
When glittering Colours in their weakness gay  
Make sight by lose Emissions weak as they,   

O may your likeness of complexions find  
Similitude of Virtue, Temper, mind!  
May your kind Hearts as close in union come  
As nature, that admits no vacuum!  
Or when you sever for short days, or nights,  
Renew your Nuptials, meet with fresh Delights.  
But can Kings fancy what they never saw?  
Create Love, not by sympathy but law?  
Not to transcend a Poet's sphere, and tell  
How nobler Objects are invisible;  
Princes commence not Suits like common men,  
Their leaden eyes must see and see again;  
Whose first congress, if it fall out by night,  
No love, no faith, till the next day give light:  
And then (poor amorous moles,) look themselves blind,  
Meet not as Rationals, but like beasts, too kind:  
So few once fired, are in their slames discreet,  
Like wild sparks, to their own Extinction meet!   

When Monarches, like their Brother-sun dispense  
Pure rays, send Spirits for intelligence:  
Court not the woman, but the Goddess Queen,  
Who, like his Daphne must be ever, green:  
Vend not their passions at a vulgar rate,  
Distance is merit, in Amours keep slate:  
Subject not Honour to their sostest will.  
But though great Lovers, are great Princes still.  
Pictures serve them, whose active fancy give  
Spirit to paint, and make dead Colours live:  
Can kiss those cheeks and lips, inspired by Art  
T'express the silent language of the heart:  
Gaze on two Stars, till (fancy working high)  
They twinkle; Time now to lay the Picture by.  
No dirty passion such a flame controls.  
Where two espouse not Bodies but chaste Souls!  
Angels ride post twixt such a payr as this,  
Act their affairs, and expedite their bliss,  
Temper the weak and strong, the fair and wise,  
Lovers inspired, moved by impulse not eyes:  
If business render Love more nicely kind,  
Letters (that brightest imagery of the mind)  
From heart to heart so swift intelligence brings  
As if the enclosed Thoughts had lent them wings.  
Heaven seals such matches! If all this be true,  
Princes may Love without an interview.   

Sat still ye floating Isles,  long wheeled round,  
Danced mazes long, centered on air not ground:  
With storms, and Earthquakes long been rend and torn.  
Yet toilings Turks have still the crescent worn:  
When your half Moon grew big, began to swell,  
Rebel's turned Lunatics and madly fell.  
Now Britaines moon is full. Her total sum  
Contains the fractions of all Christendom:  
Let civil (but wise) Spain cease to be kind,  
England's Queen shall be treated not designed;  
Not all the Ours of India should control,  
Or Bribe the judgement of a generous soul:  
Resolve to conquer first with slighter pains,  
ndias whole body, with its wealthy veins!   

Blush, blush degenerous Princes, you that Mate  
Not to concern your Honour but estate;  
Conclude how little England is afraid,  
Whose King has wood a persecuted Maid:  
A Phoenix destined for the eagle's prey,  
But by the care of Providence snatched away:  
He, whom Heaven rescued with so strong a hand  
Owed a Protection to some tottering Land:  
An Act worthy a Martyr's son, to wed  
As well his Lady's Sufferings as her bed!  
Spain could not his Infanta thus advance,  
To britain's Monarch, and the King of France:  
Fortune in this has hallowed her lost name,  
By dealing Crowns to Merit and not fame!   

Triumph great Heir of Portugal! To Thee  
This marriage is beyond a victory:  
Affinity with England, either ends  
Thy wars by Power, or makes thy foes thy friends:  
Ride on brave Prince victorious, to maintain  
Thy Portugal against usurping Spain;  
Those Ensigns spread, tempests had surld before  
Conquer thy pristin conqueror, the Moor  
But few and fools, to Castille back return,  
And let the Proverb prove the Coiners scorn,  
This Match and their Recovery, declare  
Spain wise! what fools the Portuguesses are!  
See the grave Spaniard well advised inclines,  
To save his Honour and his Silver Mines.   

Thou first Restorer of thyself and Kings,  
Whose sharper Policy pruned the eagle's wings,  
Sleep great Briganza! Let the proud Bird soar,  
She may be blind, but thou disthrond no more.   

Hast good Queen! England with impatience naites  
Till Charles have Tangeers and possess the Straits.    
FINIS.