THE ROYAL GARLAND Of Love and Delight. Containing the lives of sundry King's Queens, and Princes. With other Love Songs and Sonnets full of Delight. By T. D.  
Whereunto is added a rare new Sonnet of the Restauration of our Royal Soveragn Charles the Second, 1674.  
LONDON Printed by E. C. for W. T. and are to be sold by John Hose over against Staple: Inn, in Holbourn 1674   
THE ROYAL GARLAND OF LOVE and DELIGHT  

The Life and Death of Lady Rosamond, King Henry the seconds Concubine.  
Tune of Flying Fame.  
WHen as King Henry ruled this Land,  
the second of that name:  
Besides the Queen he dearly loved,  
a fair and comely Dame:  
Most péerless was her beauty found,  
her favour and her face,  
A sweeter creature in the world  
did never Prince embrace,  
Her crimson locks like threads of gold,  
appeared to each man's sight,  
Her comely eyes like orient Pearls,  
did cast a heavenly light,  
The blood within her Crystal Cheeks  
did such a colour drive,  
As though the Lily and the Rose,  
for mastership did strive.  
Yea Rosamond, fair Rosamond,  
her name was called so,  
To whom Dame Elinor our Queen  
was known a deadly foe.  
The King therefore for her defence,  
against the furious Queen.  
At Woodstock builded such a bower  
the like was never seen:  
Most curiously that bower was built  
of stone and timber strong,  
A hundred and fifty doors there did  
unto that Bower belong.  
And for his love and Lady's sake,  
that was so fair and bright,  
The keeping of that bower he gave  
unto a valiant Knight:  
For why the King's ungracious son  
whom he did high advance,  
Against his Father raised war,  
within the Realm of France.  
But now before our comely King,  
the English Land forsook,  
Of Rosamond his Lady fair,  
his farewell thus he took,  
My Rosamond the only Rose,  
that pleaseth best mine eye,  
The fairest Rose in all the world  
to please my fantasy:  
The flower of my affected heart,  
whose swéetness doth excel,  
My Royal Rose an hundred times,  
I bid thee now farewell,  
When Rosamond that Lady bright,  
did hear the King say so,  
The sorrow of her grieved heart,  
her countenance did show.  
For from her clear and christial eyes,  
the tears gushed out apace.  
Which like a silver pearled dew,  
ran down her comely face,  
So falling down all in a swound,  
before King Henry's face,  
Full oft within his Princely arms  
he did her corpse embrace.  
And twenty times with watery eyes,  
he kissed her terde chéek,  
Until she had revived again,  
her senses mild and meek.  
Why grieves my Rose? my dearest Rose,  
the King did often say:  
Because (quoth she) to bloody wars,  
my Lord must part away.  
But sith you go to foreign Lands,  
let me your Target bear,  
That on my breast the blow might light,  
that should annoy you there;  
Or let me in your Royal Tent,  
prepare your bed at night.  
And with sweet baths refresh your Grace,  
at your return from fight.  
So I your presence may enjoy, no toil I will rifuse.  
But wanting you my life is death,  
which ●oth true love abuse,  
Content thyself my dearest friend,  
thy rest at home shall be,  
In England's sweet and pleasant soil  
for traveil fits not thee:  
Fair Ladies brook not bloody wars,  
sweet peace their pleasure breed,  
The nourisher of hearts content,  
which fancy first did feed.  
My Rose shall rest at Wodstock Bower,  
with Music sweet delight,  
Whilst I among the piercing Pikes  
against my foes do fight.  
And you Sir Thomas whom I trust  
to be my Love's defence,  
Be careful of my Royal Rose,  
when I am parted hence.  
And at their parting well they might  
in heart be grieved sore,  
After that day fair Rosamond,  
the King did see no more,  
For when his Grace had past the Seas  
and into France was gone,  
Queen Elinor with envious heart,  
to Wodstock came anon:  
And forth she calls the trusty Knight  
that kept this curious Bower,  
Who with a clew of twined thread  
came from this famous flower.  
And when that they had wounded him,  
the Queen the thread did get,  
And came where Lady Rosamond,  
was like an Angel set,  
Cast of these robes from thee (she said)  
that rich and costly be,  
And drink thou up this deadly draught  
which I have brought for thee.  
Then presently upon her knees,  
fair Rosamond did fall,  
And pardon of the Queen she begged,  
for her offences all.  
And with the same her lily hands,  
she wrung full often there,  
And down along her lovely cheeks,  
proceeded many a tear:  
But nothing could this furious Queen  
therewith appeased be,  
The Cup of deadly poison filled  
as she sat on her knee.  
She gave this comely Dame to drink,  
who took it in her hand,  
And from her bended knees arose,  
and on her feet did stand:  
And casting up her eyes to Heaven,  
she did for mercy call,  
And drinking up the Poison then,  
her life she lost withal.  
And when that death through every part,  
had done his greatest spite.  
Her chief foes did there confess,  
she was a glorious wight,  
Her body than they did entomb,  
when life was fled away:  
At God stow near to Oxford Town,  
as may be seen this day.  

A woeful Lamentation of Queen Elinor,  
THrice woe is me unhappy Queen,  
thus to offend my Princely Lord,  
My foul offences too plainly seen,  
and of good people much abhorred:  
I must confe●s my fault it was,  
These bloody wars came thus to pass.  
My jealous mind hath wrought my woe,  
let all good Ladies eat mistrust:  
My envy wrought my overthrow, by malice most unjust:  
My sons did seek their Father's life,  
By bloody wars and cruel strife.  
But that which most torments my mind,  
and makes my grieved heart complain;  
As for to think that most unkind,  
I brought myself in such disdain:  
That now the King cannot abide  
I should be lodged by his side,  
Full sixtéen winters have I been,  
in Prison in a Dungeon deep,  
Whereby my joys are wasted clean,  
Where my poor eyes have learned to weep,  
And never shall I see him more,  
Whose absence grieves my heartful sore.  
Too much indeed I must confess,  
I did abuse his Royal Grace,  
And by my great maliciousness,  
his wrong I wrought in every place:  
And thus his Love I turned too late.  
Sweet Rosamond that was so fair,  
out of our curious Bower I brought;  
A poisoned Cup I gave her there,  
whereby her death was quickly wrought  
The which I did with all despite,  
Because she was the King's delight.  
Thus sorely did the Queen lament,  
Her former deeds for to repent.    

On the death of King JOHN who was poisoned by a Monk.  
Tune of, Fortune my foe.  
A Treacherous deed I shall you tell,  
Which on King john upon a sudden fell  
To Lincolnshire proceeding on his way,  
At Swinstead Abbey one whole night he lay:  
Great Cheer they made to his Royal Grace,  
While he remained a Guest in that place:  
There did the King himself in safety think,  
But there the King received his latest drink,  
A flat faced Monk came with a glozing tale,  
To give the King a Cup of spiced Ale:  
A deadlier Draught was never offered man,  
Yet this false Monk unto their King began.  
But while he held the poisoned cup in's hand,  
Our Noble King amazed much did stand:  
For casting down by chance his Princely eye,  
One precious jewel which he had full nigh,  
It's Orient brightness to a pale dead hue.  
Was changed quite, the cause no person knew,  
And such a sweat did overspread them all,  
Which stood like Dew that on fair flowers fall,  
For thereby was their precious nature tried;  
For precious stones foul poison cannot abide.  
Yet though the King beheld their colour pale,  
Mistrusted dot the poison in the Ale:  
And therefore a hearty draught did take,  
Which of his life a quick dispatch die make:  
The infectious Drink fumed up into his head:  
And through his veins unto his heart did spread  
The groans he gave made all men to wonder,  
He cast as if his heart would burst in sunder.  
And then the Lords went searching all about,  
In every place to find the Traitor out,  
At length they found h●m dead as any stone,  
Within a corner lying all alone,  
Why then my Lords, full quickly than quoth he  
A breathless King among you shall you see:  
Behold he saith, my veins in pieces crack,  
A grievious torment feel I in my back;  
For by this poison deadly and accursed,  
I feel my heartstrings ready for to burst.  
With that his eyes did turn within his head,  
A pale dead colour through his face was spread  
And lying Gasping with a cold faint breath,  
The Royal King was overcome by death.   

The trial and d●ath of King Charles who was beheaded at White-Hall, jan. 30. 1648.  
Tune of, Aim not too high.  
KIng Charles was once a Prince of great state  
But he died a death unfortunate,  
The manner how to you I will relate,  
At Westminster was called a Court of State,  
Where Sergeant Bradshaw was Lord precedent  
The Court being called, then for the K. they sent  
Charles Stuart once admitted England's King.  
Who did such woes upon the Nation bring  
In setting up the Standard in the field,  
Which was the cause that so much blood was spilt  
Therefore you guilty are of these sad times,  
As Treason, Murder, and such like crimes.  
Here is your jury for it must be so  
You have your charge, plead guilty I or no,  
K. As for your charge a rush I do not care,  
I do desire those things are right and square.  
I do desire some of you would unfold,  
By whose commission you this Court do hold,  
To whom the Precedent did strait reply,  
Sir you shall know by what Authority,  
This Prerogative wherein we stand.  
Ordained is by the Commons of this Land,  
'Tis not for Prisoners to dispute the same,  
Answer to that for which you hither came.  
Then their Authority he quite denied,  
And said by them he meant not to be tried:  
At which the Clerk the sentence than did read  
Saying Sharles Stevart thou must lose thy head;  
For Murder, Treason, and for Tyranny,  
And being to the Land a public Enemy.  
Then to the Scaffold straight he was conveyed,  
The which with mourning Cloth was overlaid  
Mounting the same (quoth he) I'll little say,  
For in this world I have not long to stay  
With his eyes lift up to heaven he made a prayer  
And so for death did instantly prepare.  
Saying, My Earthly Crown I here must leave,  
Hoping a heavenly Crown for to receive:  
I come▪ I come, Lord jesus then he cried,  
One blow his Head and Body did divide.   

A Song on the Reigns of Q. Marry, Q. Eliz. K. jam. and K. Charles the I.  
Tune is, Duchess of Suffolk.  
WHen God had taken for our sin,  
and closed up King Edward's eyes,  
Then bloody Mary did begin,  
in England for to Tyrannise:  
Who like unto a Tyrant Queen,  
her days on earth did spend.  
But at the last her time expired  
her Reign came to an end.  
Then after her Elizabeth,  
unto the Crown did come.  
Whose blessed Reign did much rejoice  
the hearts of all and some.  
Full forty years and four she did  
Reign in great Prosperity:  
Whose blessed name shall lied  
in fame to all Posterity.  
Next after her came James our King,  
unto the Regal Crown:  
Who did maintain whilsh he did reign  
firm peace to his renown  
Then to the Crown came Charles the first  
by name the best of Kings:  
Although the commons them did vote,  
as néedless, useless things:  
And then the name of King seemed strange  
how should it otherwise choose,  
But now the name of King again  
we may and still will use.   

The Lover's Delight.  
To the Tune of, The Damask Rose.  
THe Damask Rose, or the Lily fair,  
the Cowslip nor the Pancy,  
With my true Love cannot compare,  
for beauty, Love, and fancy:  
She doth excel the rarest Dame,  
no beauty like her moves me,  
Which makes me thus extol her name,  
so ●weet is the Lass that loves me.  
If I should speak of my true love;  
as I am bound in duty,  
She doth surpass the Gods above,  
in each degree of beauty,  
juno, Pallas, nor Venus' fair,  
shines not so bright and lovely,  
there's none that with her may compare,  
so sweet, etc.  
When first I saw her péerless face,  
I did admire her beauty,  
And I did seek with heart and voice,  
to offer her all duty:  
Which willingly she did accept,  
so kind and loving preves she,  
Which makes me thus with all respect,  
say sweet, etc.  
Mars though he be the God of war,  
c●uld not so deeply wound me,  
As Cupid with a little Dart,  
which I have plainly shown you:  
Borea● with his blustering storms,  
never yet pierced so roughly,  
Cupid's arrows prick like thorns,  
so sweet, etc.  
For her sweet sake I'll undertake,  
any thing she requireth,  
To sail the Seas like Captain Drake,  
whose deeds there's some admireth:  
What ever she commands is done,  
so much her love doth move me,  
She is a Precious Paragon,  
so sweet, etc.  
Bright Cynthìa in her richest Robes,  
my Love doth much resemble:  
Whose beauteous beams much joy affords  
which makes my heart to tremble,  
So is my Love, so chaste so rare,  
which unto fancy▪ moves me,  
And makes me joy without compare,  
so sweet, etc.  
Diana and her darlings dear,  
that lived in th' woods and Valleys,  
And sport her time so chaste and rare  
with which no man dallies:  
Yet she is not so chaste as she,  
I hope none can disprove me.  
O now my mind shall not remove,  
so sweet, etc.  
Sweet Love than I pray be true,  
and think of what is spoken,  
Change not thy old friend for a new  
let not thy vow be broken;  
Sweet love I leave thee for this time,  
for so it doth behoove me,  
My heart doth me compel to say,  
so sweet, etc.  

The Maids Answer.  
MY love my life, my duck my dear,  
now I will yield unto thee,  
All thou hast said I well did hear,  
and now thy words do move me,  
For to reply in answer kind,  
and to thyself shall prove me,  
I will not change like to the wind,  
so sweet is the Lad that loves me.  
Be thou my lovely Pyramus,  
I'll be thy constant Thisbe,  
And I am now resolved thus,  
never for to displease thee,  
True Love surpasses Cress●s Gold,  
Hereafter let my Love be hold  
so sweet is the Lad, etc.  
I'll prove as chaste unto my Love,  
as ever could do any,  
No fond enticements me shall move  
though I am urged by many,  
I will endure for ever kind  
as it doth best behoove me,  
A truer mate thou shalt not find  
so sweet is the Lad etc.  
My daily care shall always be,  
only for to delight thee,  
And I myself will be the she,  
that will with joys unite thee,  
I'll thee delight both noon and night,  
for so my fancy moves me,  
Like Cynthia I will shine bright,  
unto the Lad etc.  
Do not despair my only dear,  
let not vain thoughts torment thee,  
Of my true heart have thou no fear  
nor do not thou absent thee,  
I will remain for ever sure  
though I a while do prove thee,  
Till death depart I'll thine endure  
so sweet is the Lad etc.  
So Love adieu I pray be true  
I am thine own for ever,  
The next time that I meet with you,  
we'll not so soon dissever.  
Although we part I'll leave my heart  
with him that dearly loves me.  
'Tis Hymen's hand must ease thy smart  
for I am the Lass that loves thee.   

His Reply.  
O my sweet love and only dear,  
thou hast revived my pleasure,  
Thou in my sight dost more appear,  
than any earthly treasure;  
I do rejoice in my choice  
and so it doth behoove me,  
I'll sing thy praise with heart and voice  
so sweet is the Lass that loves me.    

A pleasant Ditty of Daphne and Apollo.  
To a pleasant new Tune.  
WHen Daphne from fair Phoebus did fly  
the west wind most sweetly did blow in her face,  
Her silken scarf shadowed her eyes  
the God cried pity, and held her in chase,  
Stay Nymph, stay Nymph, cries Apollo,  
tarry and turn thee, O sweet Nymph stay,  
Lion nor Tiger doth thee follow,  
turn thy fair eyes and look this way;  
O turn, O pity sweet,  
And let our Red Lips meet,  
Pity O Daphne, pity O pity me,  
Pity O Daphne, O pity me.  
She gave ear unto his cry  
but still did neglect him, the more he did moan,  
He still did entreat, she still did deny,  
and earnestly prays him to let her alone,  
Never cries Apollo,  
unless to love thou dost consent:  
But with my voice I will so hollow  
I'll cry to thee till life be spent:  
But if thou wilt turn to me  
I'll praise thy felicity,  
Pity O Daphne, etc.  
Away like Venus from him she did fly  
the red blood her buskins did run all down,  
Her Plaintiff she doth ever deny,  
crying, help, help, Diana, to save my renown?  
Wanton, wanton lust is near me,  
cold and chaste Diana hear me,  
Let the Earth a Virgin bear me,  
or devour me quick a Maid:  
Summer pure heard her pray  
And eke turned to her to a Bay.  
Pity O Daphne, etc.  
Amazed stood Apollo then,  
when he saw Daphne changed as she desired,  
Accursed am I above Gods and Men,  
with griefs and laments my fancies are tired,  
Farewell false Daphne most unkind,  
my Love is buried in this Grave,  
Long have I sought love yet could not it find,  
therefore this is my Epitaph.  
This tree doth Daphne cover,  
That never pitied Lover.  
Farewell false Daphne that would not pity me,  
Nor be my Love, yet thou art my Tree.   

The Lover's complaint for loss of his Love.  
To a pleasant new Tune.  
I Wander up and down,  
and no body cares for me,  
Though I am poor and brown,  
yet constant I will be.  
My dearest Love farewel,  
ten thousand times adieu,  
Seeing thou hast forsaken me,  
and changed for a new.  
I never gave thee cause  
why thou shouldst me forsake,  
Nor never break the faithful Vow,  
that thou and I did make.  
Farewell my dearest Love,  
I take thee at thy word,  
Hard hap had I to beat the bush  
and another to catch the Bird.  
Now I'll go Range abroad,  
I'll find some other thing,  
For had I known you would have flown  
I would have clipped your Wing.  
Would you have clipped my Wing  
she answered him again,  
You might have done it in the Wood  
you know the time and when.  
Farewell my dearest Love,  
to thee I make my suit,  
Hard hap had I to graft the Tree,  
and another to reap the Fruit,  
I always wail in woes,  
I travel still in pain,  
I see my true Love where she goes  
I hope she'll come again,  
I heard a pretty Tune,  
concerning of a Song,  
A Lover mourning for his Love,  
and said she had done him wrong,  
He had her in the Wood,  
and might have wrought his will,  
Pity it was to do him good  
that had no better skill,  
In woods or desert places  
had I e'er my Love so,  
I think I should have played with her  
before I let her go,  
Had she been light of Love  
I would have soon espied,  
I trow I would have clipped her mind,  
and caused her to abide:  
Should I let scape the bird  
that I had fast in fist,  
Then let her laugh and scoff at me  
and use me as she list,  
He still did beat the bush  
although the Bird be lost,  
And being slothful in his suit,  
thus Fortune hath him crossed,  
If with my Love in woods  
so happy were I sped,  
I would suppose my hap were hard  
to miss her Maidenhead,  
Good friends be ruled by me,  
that made this mournful song,  
If thou dost wander up and down  
thyself hath done the wrong:  
Therefore be ruled by me  
and let that Lover pass,  
If thou look thy chance may be  
to find another Lass.   

The delicate wooing between two Royal Lovers.  
Tune of, Robin Hood is to the Greenwood gone.  
I Salute thee sweet Love, with Title of grace,  
For Cupid commands me in heart to rejoice  
Thy honours, thy Virtue, thy favour and beauty  
Which is my true service, my love and my duty  
Lady, Courteous kind Sir, pray let me request,  
How comes these high praises thus bred in your breast  
That am but a stranger deserving no love  
And void of all cause your effections to move.  
G. What though a stranger; love hath such a power,  
To breed our acquaintance in less than an hour;  
Then do not unkindly my offers forsake  
For nature commands you a true love to take,  
L. How if a kind Lady should thus be content  
By méekness thus moved to give her consent  
And humble her honours, abase her degree,  
To tie her best fortunes brave Gallant to thee.  
G. If unto a Kingdom I born were by birth,  
Or had at command all Nations on Earth,  
Their Crowns and Sceptres should lie at thy feet.  
And thou be made Empress my darling so sweet.  
L. But how can I fancy thy tempting tongue,  
For Cupid is cunning, his shafts very strong,  
For Venus once Mrs. of hearts wishing pleasure,  
We over kind Ladies repent at our leisure  
G. May never fair morning show forth her gold beams  
But cover my falsehood with darksome extremes,  
If not as the Turtle I'll live with my Love  
And never unconstant unto her will prove  
L. With speed then my dearest our wedding provide  
For thou art my Bridegroom and I am thy Bride.   

The Mirror of Prince Charles the Second.  
You Loyal Subjects all merry be  
The King enjoys his own again, and so shall we  
Tune of, The King enjoys his own.  
COme cheer up all you gallant Spirits,  
For Traitors fall, and Charles inherits:  
George and the rest have done their parts,  
then droop no more as heretofore;  
But courage up brave English hearts:  
For God above hath made it known;  
That now King Charles enjoys his own.  
The Church shall find a Reformation  
And Livings freed from Sequestration,  
Learning shall flourish once again,  
in spite of those that did oppose,  
The Clergy shall their Rites obtain:  
And Sacrilege there shall be none,  
For now King, etc.  
The Protestant Reform Religion  
No more shall abide decision,  
Our King defends the Faith with care,  
Whose Royal will is ever still,  
God's house be made a house of Prayer,  
All things in order comely done,  
For now King, etc.  
Country's will be no more distressed,  
By lawless Tyrants that oppressed,  
No Taxes shall be paid in vain,  
The painful Blow shall prosper now  
And good house-keeping come again,  
All burdens eased men shall not groan,  
For now King, etc.  
Since the King returns hither,  
So many blessings meet together,  
Come praise that God whence all proceed,  
And evermore let us adore,  
That mercy hath three Kingdoms freed;  
All glory be to God alone.  
For now King, etc.  
God save the King in sure protection,  
Health, wealth, and peace, and all perfection,  
Of endless honour and renown,  
Whilst still we cry, Vivelle Roy,  
And blessing still attend the Crown,  
So long as shines the Sun and Moon  
So long may Charles enjoy his own.  
FINIS.