Upon the most hopeful and ever Flourishing Sprouts of Valour, the indefatigable Centryes or Armed GIANTS Cut in Yew at the Physic Garden in Oxford.  
Printed in the Year 1664. Reprinted with some alterations in 1682.  By the Ingenious Author J. D. 

ALTHOUGH not Brandished Cherubins are here,  
Yet Sons of Adam venture not too near.  
It is decreed by the Eternal Host,  
That Paradise must be for ever lost,  
Here's your Nil ultra, else in these  
Is both a Pillar and an Hercules.  
If you'll not dread their looks, yet may you fear  
The Arms, and strange Fatalities they bear.  
On very 
* The Gardener  Bobert their commands they lay,  
And wisely he does yearly Tribute pay  
Each Christmas day, submitting to the Fates,  
Presents them both with two great Lace Cravates.  
The Emblem of Mortality the Yew  
Does now the Armed, Bloody Warriors show:  
And if unwary Mortals slight their Guard,  
Oth' pleasant Garden they make a sad Churchyard:  
In this Conjunction mischief's never scant,  
The Saturnine's become a Martial plant.  
Far off in Heaven are these ill-boding Stars,  
What's here at hand, when Saturn joins with Mars?  
Th' Hesperian watchful Dragon, that did lie  
By th' Apples, and more than Nine ways could see,  
Is less renowned: Ours do better keep  
Their Treasure, and did never wink or sleep.  
Their Blood is poison, pestilent their breath,  
Their very Shade is almost sudden death;  
Who dares be safe? no Turk is Armed so,  
When every member of them is a Bow, 
Being made of Yew.   
When Arms are Armed, Bows charged with Mace or Bill,  
So that at once, with Stroke and Shoot they kill.  
And lop each Limb, you cannot strike them dead,  
Each Limbwill multiply like Hydra's Head.  
Some vegetables do themselves protect  
With prickles, stings, or stinks o'th' same effect,  
Our Garden Genij more General  
Do not defend themselves alone, but all.  
Old Heroes hung their Weapons on the Trees,  
To signalise their well-got Victories;  
These daring Souls, these ever brave in War  
Triumphing Victors both, and Trophies are.  
If Quibbling Cambridge when they next Commence  
Shall say, here's Terrae Filij void of Sense,  
And very Blockheads: know that they were meant  
For Military not a learned intent.  
Valour and wit at equal Honour fly,  
Our Valour oft, seldom their wit dwells high.  
As wise men most are cowards; so 'tis fit  
That Combatants have neither fear nor wit,  
And though their Education they'll not boastt  
(And much Respect by Modesty is lost)  
They value not the Box that Wickham laid  
Who often to them very gravely said,  
That every man is by his manners made:  
'Cause you Men failed, these Trees assumed of late  
The grand proprieties of Humane state,  
Couched in an Oak the Soveraingty you Knew,  
See here appropriate Valour in an Yew.  
What are they Speechless sayest? fie, men of Swords  
And truly valiant, are not men of words,  
They murmur tho, and shake their Crests, disturbed  
By saucy Winds; nor would their rage be curbed,  
Were't not beneath them, Honour to repair,  
When 'tis to strike the Winds, or beat the Air,  
Jove whispers peace, or else we well might wonder,  
He so secure let's rust his dastard Thunder.  
These Earthborn Giants take a different Course,  
By plots, as perilous, as is their force.  
Each man's an Ambuscado, and may well  
Be said at once Perdue and Sentinel.  
How they advance towards Heaven both Night and Day,  
And forces do come in upon the way,  
Yet march unseen: but Jove's all kenning Eye  
Did soon their Growing Stratagems espy.  
Else might th' all Conqueror have been surprised  
As was Our own, by men in Boughs disguised.  
The poor affrighted Atlas, had he not  
At last took heart, had sent them all to pot;  
For quaking so, the heavens too fast ran round  
That every God had almost tumbled down.  
Vulcan thanked his Stars, that's one Leg was saved  
And Venus that her— was not displayed,  
Being much disturbed in Mind, that women must  
T'unfaithful Pert coats their Treasures trust.  
But now the Sun is sent a league to treat,  
And to Caress them with his gentle heat,  
With numerous presents of his Golden Rays,  
And farther promise of Serener days;  
Else they with force would crack heavens Chariot Wheels.  
But prostrate Earth too hangs about their Heels.  
And as an ancient loyal Sabine wife,  
Ventures to intercede and part the strife.  
As oft an half-spun sinner—  
By th' Spirits moved (when he's in Thinking mode)  
But straight kept back by his Dear Flesh and Blood;  
So they, whose humbler scope in heavens Crown,  
With Darling Earth are Clogged and Fettered down.  
Can we believe but what Old women do,  
They are not only Men but Christians too,  
Who fright the Devil himself. Had God but set  
●n his first Colony, this Amulet:  
No work for Cherub had their been; no doubt  
The devil had been, and not poor man cast out.  
From Sons of Adam now we must retrieve  
Our Warning to the Daughters next of Eve.  
You Ladies, whom Priapus can't affright,  
Whose Toyish weapon rather does invite,  
(Proscribed as insufficient) since you are  
Beneath displeasure, therefore do not dare  
To use the Garden so, as men use you,  
At once to Love ye, and deflovor ye too.  
Weak is your Sex, you know the devil in Swine  
Was ne'er repulsed by hedge of Eglantine.  
If then the Courtier Fox or Bully Bore  
Your mounds have never undermined or tore,  
Thus fortify yourselves: In your defence  
Set Giant Honour, Giant Conscience.  
So shall you never keep, by this Advice,  
Knave's Kitchen Garden, but Fool's Paradise.   
FINIS.