POEMS, WC BY WC ELDRED REVETT.  Horat. Ep. lib. 2. 
Ad August.  

— Quia nil rectum, nisi quod placuit, sibi ducunt:  
Vel quia turpe putant parere minoribus, & quae  
Imberbes didicere, Senes perdenda fateri.   
LONDON, Printed by E. T. for the Author. Anno Dom. 1657.   

TO The best Worthy of Honour, his Noble Kinsman, ROBERT HENLY, Esquire.  
SIR,  
HOw much Poesy is declined from that esteem it had sometimes arrived to, the bold in vectives of a cheap multitude, are the but too easy instances; and nothing is so now the business of these Epistles, as the defence of Writing: we live in the days of Tumult, and in the noise of Batteries.  

Hic ego Rerum  
Fluctibus in mediis, & tempestatibus Urbis,  
Verba Lyrae motura sonum connectere dignor!   
When not Amphion can be heard, however able to re-order the stones, and reconcile them to their breaches, the Nine had now found a no so ingenious Quarter, as the Macedonian gave to their farthest Relations, who (at the razing of an obstinate City) forgot not (in the wildness of discontent and War) to exempt (from an otherwise general ruin) the whole stock of Pindar. I have not then presumed on this Dedication, that these sheets deserve, but that they need, the best Patronage. They are borne in an Age enough resolved, that the Muses make a Body Politic, but Monstrous, by bringing to it unnecessary and superfluous Members; and in an adventitious weakeness they will come new Argument to the tyranny of Prejudice: They will therefore owe their whole safety to the Honour of your Name, and indeed Protection is but Compliment to an assured sufficiency. If you ●nde in some of them a too early growth, let them find an Excuse in their Nonage, and not pass an Examination after that of the Ferula. The rest have been the Diversion of some my more indulgent Hours, and to my best Discourse, they wear no interests, but their own: I had rather be thought to want the Advantages, than derive the Acknowledgement:  

Alium qui recitet, & quaerit famam,  
Non emere Librum, sed Silentium debet.   
Where I have dealt in a Divine matter, I have not loved to lose myself in Mysteries, or betray my Youth to an Oracle: I have therefore only glanced on Subjects, the fittest for Fancy, and (that alone) that, of two Mites, I might return one, a Tribute ●o Heaven.  
Though I have in nothing else a satisfaction; I shall enough receive it if you pardon the address.  
Sir, Of Your, in all Obedience, Servant and Kinsman, Eldred Revett. October 19 1647.   

To my dear Friend Mr. ELDRED REVETT, On his Poems Moral, and Divine.  

Cloven (as the top of the inspired hill;)  
Struggles the soul of my divided quill:  
While this foot doth the watery mount aspire  
That Sinais living and en liv'ning fire.  
Behold! my power's stormed by a twisted light  
O'th' Sun, and his first kindled his sight.  
And my left thoughts invoke the Prince of Day,  
My right toth' spring of it, and him do pray.  
Say happy youth crowned with a heavenly ray  
Of the first flame, and inter-wreathed bay,  
Inform my soul in labour to begin,  
Io's, or Anthems, Paeans, or a Hymn,  
Shall I a Hecatomb on thy tripod slay,  
Or my devotions at thine Altar pay:  
While which t'adore, the mazed world cannot tell  
The sublime Urim, or 〈…〉 oracle.  
Hark how the 〈…〉 hordes temper our brain!  
As when Apollo serenades the main,  
Old Ocean smooths his sullen, furrowed front,  
And Nereids do glide soft measures on't;  
whilst th'air puts on its sleekest smoothest face,  
●nd each doth turn the others Looking-glass.  
So by thy sinewy Lyre now struck (we see)  
to soft calms all storms of Poesy:  
And former thundering and lightning lines  
And Verse now in its Native Lustre shines.  
How were't thou hid within thyself? how shut  
Thy precious Illiads locked up in a nut?  
(Not hearing from thee) thou dost break out strong  
Invading (forty thousand-men) in song  
And we (secure in our thin, empty, heat)  
Now find ourselves at once surprised and bear;  
While the most valiant of our wits now sue,  
Fling down their Arms, ask quarter too of you.  
So cabbined up in its disguised course, rust,  
And scurfed all over wi●h its unseemly crust.  
The diamonds (from midst the humbler stones)  
(Sparkling) shoots forth the price of Nation's.  
Ye sage unridlers of the Stars, pray tell  
By what name shall I stamp my Miracle?  
Thou strange inverted Aeson, that leap'st over,  
From thy first infancy into fourscore;  
That to thine own self hast the Midwife played!  
And from thy brain spring'st ●●●th the heavenly Maid!  
Thou staff of him; bore him, that bore our sins,  
That (but set down) to bloom and bear gins!  
Thou Rod of Aaron that with one motion hurled  
Bud'st a perfume of Flowers through the world?  
Thou strange calcined seeds within a glass,  
Each species Idea spring'st as ' 'twas!  
Bright vestal flame, that kindled but now  
For ever dost the sacred fires throw!  
Thus the re-itered acts of Nestor's age  
(That now had three times over outlived the stage,  
And all those beams contracted into one)  
Alcides in his cradle hath outdone.  
But all these flourishing hues with which I die  
Thy Virgin paper now are vain as I,  
For 'bove the Poet's heaven thou'rt taught to shine,  
And move as in thy proper Crystalline:  
Whence that molehill Parnassus, thou dost ●iew,  
And us small Aunts there dabbling in its dew,  
Whence thy Seraphic soul such hymns doth play  
As those to which first danced the first day;  
Where with a thorn from the world's ransoming wreath  
Thou (stung) dost Antiphons', and Anthems breath,  
Where with an Angel's quill, dipped i'th' lambs blood,  
Thou sin'gst our Pelican's all-saving Flood,  
And bath'st thy thoughts in everliving streams.  
Rinced from Earth's tainted, fat and heavy steams.  
There move translated youth! enrolled ith'quire  
That only doth with holy lays inspire,  
To whom his burning Coach Elias sent,  
And the Royal Prophet-Priest his Harp hath lent,  
Which thou dost tune in consent unto those  
Clap wings for ever at each hallowed close:  
While we now weak and fainting in our praise,  
(Sick) Echo o'er thy Hallelujahs.   
Richard Lovelace.   

To his Worthy Friend on his Poems.  

WE claim no share, to you the Bays are due,  
Who have made Poems, and Us Poets too,  
While, by a brave, inimicable flight  
You both dishearten, and engage to write,  
Shamed at once, If not at all we try,  
And yet despairing ever to come nigh;  
We usher nothing to your following state,  
Whether in number valued, or in weight.  
You, like Your Phoenix, are yourself a kind,  
Not cause our flowers are to your Posies joined,  
By which no Lustre is on your side won,  
We are the Stars in That, and you the Sun.  
Rivers may urge, They swell, the Byllowie Main,  
But ask! him whence they their own waters drain.  
Glasses may boast Their Office, yet they own,  
Unto our very Faces, what they show.  
So little (though it seem) is any thing  
That of Access unto thy Worth we bring,  
Sole purchaser of thine immortal Fame,  
Although the Deeds are passed in our Name.  
On others here I may be thought too free,  
Yet, with fair leave, I give but Right ●o Thee,  
Having confessed the Trust, we add no more,  
But to thy Book, we turn the Reader o'er.   
B. H.   

To his best Brother Mr. ELDRED REVETT, On his Poems, Humane and Divine.  

THy pen hath now flowed o'er, and ●ill'd the age,  
With streams of wit from each luxuriant page,  
Thou scornest t' engross thy vein like wretched pelf,  
For every good's diffusive of itself;  
Thy first fruits do appear to all men's joys,  
Twins at the first production, hopeful boys:  
And though in sense and voice they don't agree,  
Esau hath jacob's hands, and smooth as he.  
Thy Humane are so pure, so cleanly dressed,  
Chaste as the cold thoughts of a Vestal breast;  
Looked the strict abbess on, a blushing Nun,  
Might drop such beads at her devotion.  
When I thy anthems read, each lines a Rise  
By which my rapt soul climbs a Paradise;  
And sings with Angel's Odes it lear'nt from you,  
Closing them with blessed Hallelujahs too.  
Th' are more than thine! sure some Intelligence  
Did both direct thy hand and guide thy sense.  
To thought above thy reach, but that we know,  
Good wits (like Hagles) seldom flag below.  
Let Satyrs whet their teeth, and fork their tongue,  
Thou hast advantages above their wrong,  
Such snakes but hiss, thy babes (like Hercules)  
Even in the Cradle strangle such as these.   
WILL. REVETT.   

POEMS.  

The Centaur.  

MAn or Beast, e'en choose you whether,  
Nature made you both, and neither;  
Doubt (in you) might fear to err  
Inoculated Character:  
My double seeing eyes deny,  
They through their Glasses multiply;  
Such break the Object into more,  
But the same shape's, but Echoed o'er,  
Thou not to be divided art,  
shuffled within thy either part.  
No marvel that you in dealing stick.  
When I must Play you too by Trick.  
Me thinks thou seemest by sword's divorce,  
A Trooper graffed on his Horse!  
Turks that by Middle disunite  
Are your Instructors to alight,  
Who usher to no Woman kind,  
But Ride before, your own behind.  
And when you overriden sweat,  
Walk (your own Ostler) down the Hear;  
While children like that Fancy stride,  
You go on Foot although you Ride.  
You were when it the Gods Refined,  
A piece of Cha●s left behind;  
The Soul that Body doth enlive,  
Is Rationably sensitive;  
And 'twas thy Tribe did those beget,  
Are understanding Horses yet:  
Thy Voice broke from thy Ivory Grate,  
A Neighing, yet Articulate;  
And we distinguish the Discourse,  
Banks Dialoguing with his Horse.  
I muse the Miscelanie Race  
Should you a Siren Wench embrace;  
Or Woman should you Court with Arts  
Of kindred to your upper Parts.  
Thy Love beyond Platonic pressed  
Were merely sensual, in the rest;  
More naturally or inclined,  
Should you but dote on your own kind;  
Th' are parting kisses whet you to't,  
And you, as 'twere, take leave to do't;  
Where what before you sued to win  
The half persuasive waves as sin.  
Who can Reconcile the Quarrel  
Of those limbs too, to apparel?  
Where a Doublet's all the suit  
Or a saddle Breeches to't;  
Which uncondemned, you may slack  
Incensed from your Genets Back;  
And with it too your own endorse,  
As good a way to vex your Horse:  
Me thinks those Hoofs should not be one;  
but cleft into Division,  
That might as they distinctly lay,  
The double rather shape betray.  
The ornaments of Tail and Head  
Have small alliance in the Thread;  
But that the less is disapproved,  
They Kindred are so fare removed:  
The ●able needs that must supplied  
To double with thy App●●●●e,  
Where Members so Rebellious are;  
Still with the Belly vexed at War:  
You drunk at, Stomach Glasses scant,  
When yet that Paunch is flagged in want;  
Your throat the Pipe, but after plays  
That to the Cistern Drinks conveys:  
What Flesh the Hands to Mouth prefer,  
Got down, is Thracian Provender;  
Till reconciling Salads sent  
By intercession both content.  
Thou 'twixt a Butler placed and Groom,  
A stable and a Dining room;  
And as thy Hoofs the Pavement beat  
This pleads it Leg, that Active Hear;  
For Thee thy Cogging Host doth spread  
Clean Litter and a Feather bed,  
And thou art laid when sleep entreats,  
Half in the Matt, half in the Sheets.  
Thou dream, wherein all shapes do crowd;  
Fantastic offspring of a Cloud.    

ODE Hastening his Friend into the Country.  

(1.)  
COme let us down,  
Bloat with this smoky Town,  
And Broiled in Heat,  
Of a Tumultuous sweat.  
Why linger we in in course Flames, never think,  
We can burn Martyrs here, but out and stink.   

(2.)  
Nothing but Noise  
The sow're breathed Musket's Voice.  
And with long blast  
The Trumpet Hoarse at last.  
Such still ascending Volleys thither fly,  
They lay up a new thunder in the sky.   

(3.)  
'Tis Gross as Day  
Seen Compliment to stay  
Black-patches mend,  
The Faces we attend.  
That are but sleekt with size and whited o'er,  
The Hair and rough-cast, that was laid before.   

(4.)  
That Cup and then  
We sleep, part again.  
A Fire their reigns,  
〈◊〉 scorched black, our veins;  
And our Canary Faces dashed with Wines  
Shot through the Windows, blaze the Tavern Signs.   

(5.)  
Let us Repair  
To the soft winged Air,  
Which spread a space,  
Will gently fan the Face;  
And wipe with the down pennons sweat away,  
Leaving them only guilded by the Day.   

(6.)  
Then in some Bower  
Belies the Days brighr Hour;  
Where Sun hath made  
Squeezed in a Curd of shade.  
Under a Vocal Roof of Birds we'll lie  
That sing's asleep, and are our Canopy,   

(7.)  
Or underneath  
we'll Resty Fancy breathe;  
That else willye  
Tippled in Ecstasy:  
And tune some Rhapsody to their wild notes,  
That in the Leavy Belfry Chime their Throats.   

(8)  
Or Harmless sack,  
Drink from the Harvest Jack,  
Will never Flush  
Our Cheeks with guilty Blush.  
And view the country Girls turn dry the Hay,  
While their jet Eyes, Frowse it as fast as They.   

(9)  
Glances they throw  
To Dick at the next Mowe.  
At night in Flocks  
Dream fine things in course smocks.  
And though the Sun looks on their Face too full,  
Have skins as white as Milk, and soft as Wool.    

To his Honoured Friend, Col, R. L. upon his second failing.  

ONe Fault to you is Death again  
A supererrogating sin,  
And I thus fallen from all Repair,  
Set Raving down by wild despair;  
And as the damned already do,  
Repent my sins by adding to.    

To a Lady becomingly reserved.  

ADmired Pattern of a Modest youth,  
You must not blush to look on naked Truth!  
A Body so celestial cannot vex  
Your Virgin-eye, like Angels without Sex;  
Nor we her Gender (Madam) could divine,  
Made her not Virtue (like you) Feminine:  
A Film ne'er so Diaphanous (her Fence)  
She forfeits Eve like in't her innocence:  
The Bay should be her Crown, oft wanton grows  
And (Ivie-like) itself her Garment throws;  
But here the subtle loom unwinds to show  
How I have loved, how I have honoured you.  
Think now my Pen (full with the Delphian) swells;  
The sacred tunnel conveys Oracles;  
You more than Woman then must know, I've seen  
Those of the Sex that have but women been;  
And handsome too, had Hair that flowed upon't,  
And Tipped with Gold, the silver of their Front;  
Had Brows well-archt, whose Crescent's, though above  
Borrowed their Light from Sun's that under move;  
Had Rosy Cheeks, Noses well polished too  
That smelled not them because they always do,  
Had Lips of Cherries, when the Wantoness bitten  
You'd think the Fruit had truly suffered it,  
Had Chins that flowed Into a double wave,  
And Necks hide not one Beauty in a grave.  
As yours, their Breasts and Hands had snow as much,  
And like yours too dissolved with a Touch:  
Thus o'er 's thrown a Tap'strie rich enough,  
Lined with Hypocrisy of Darnix stuff;  
And had these glorious things but turned been,  
Their outsides had made betrer souls, than In:  
How have I known these in a Mimic Pride,  
Their Lovers into Sectaries divide;  
Of Servants, Gallants, Friends, and thus they do  
Make Love's Religion Independent too:  
These I have liked and envied, those did gain,  
Lisping Commands they might have spoken plain;  
When in new Lines their Faces they drew o'er  
Me thought they made them better than before:  
As they from Posture into posture grew,  
Their bodies in all Aretine's they threw,  
And what they made me long for, (hasty Elves)  
In my default Commit they with Themselves:  
But (Madam) now to you that these enhance  
Whose weightiest things about them are their Fans;  
When I first saw you, how me thought I saw  
What prompted me to break all, give me Law;  
And as you scorned to bow untainted Men,  
You looked me Wild only to Tame again:  
Lions ('tis said) undaunted looks of Man  
Humble to fear, if not, a Woman's can;  
Or what is yet more savage, you might trust  
Armed with that Majesty, a Satyr's lust;  
Had Juno from her Brow thrown such a Ray  
Paris had dropped the Ball he gave away:  
When I apppoacht your Lips with checked desire,  
I kissed a Dialogue of Ice and Fire,  
And mine withdrew thence, as if passed through  
The watery and the fiery Ordeal too,  
Or as I'd hung on Portia's coals, and then  
Cooled my salute on her pale mouth again:  
The Phoenix curled her flames sure in your Breath,  
Her ashes yet flew there, too after Death:  
Into a seat (when now retired) your eye  
Had tottered me with its Artillery;  
There I received its beams, whiles as they played  
I in a sheet of Lightning sat arrayed;  
Direr apparel (had I raved) had been  
Than that flayed Hercules, had searched within;  
But that my yielding body not denied  
To give it way too easy for its pride.  
Your pity now called in your glorious light  
That struck my weak eyes with a ray too bright:  
Your voice not humane then, my ear did brush:  
Music in thunder lightened by a blush.  
New dis-intranced. I in as bad estate  
To catch the sound, make't in articulate;  
And lost your charm of words, encouraged now  
By smiles among checks, scaterd on your brow,  
I locked your hand in mine that strove to scape  
As I had grasped it there only to rape:  
Then had your front known wrinkles that might tell't  
I in a frown had your displeasure spelled;  
Nor can those eyes (have fire enough) it roll  
Whiter than inside Vellum in a scroll:  
Sooner the feet of Gods, the milk that Paves  
The pathway to Jove's court may throw in waves;  
Sooner the fingers, you too roughly lay  
Curl Pelops shoulder into ruffles may:  
This makes me still retaint, my amorous heat  
Had now resolved itself in a cold sweat  
And made a luk-warm bath, love wantoned in  
Paved with the Pliant Marble of your skin;  
Which fain would cheat the uncteous flood and grieve  
It to a shower of Tears as that took leave:  
At last my joints fear (though unwilling) spread  
which died the Prisoner in a bashful red.  
For what it late had suffered, when you line  
With it your glove a less unruly shrine  
New wonder-struck my reattentive ear  
Tries if your words would shun embraces there:  
But they fell linked in such a subtle chain  
My sense was fettered without sense of pain;  
(Restraint to violence) the sounds I hear  
Uninjurred pass the dark Cells of the ear:  
Though fit to rape your words Zoned Virgins too  
Drop not displayed as other women's do:  
In wanton Bed-scenes they had laid before,  
And prologued waking that sleep acted o'er:  
Thy breath meandring in a beauteous sky  
Scorns the winged Archer in those clouds should fly;  
His shafts and quiver in their bosoms dipped  
With liquid Gold were too divinely tipped,  
In that pure Heaven, for creatures pure as fit  
Thy vocal thoughts dance innocent as it,  
And raise dispute, how thou canst humane be  
Blended with such rays of Divinity:  
I cannot think thee Angel though as well  
My trembling Fingers Tryalled palpable;  
Nor dare I woman, thou dost so perplex  
My thoughts with Things were never in the Sex:  
Thou glorious Chaos then, wherein do lie,  
Things mortal mixed with immortality;  
Yet not that neither, what can I espy,  
Untuned in such a perfect Harmony?  
Thus, thus thou Mount'st Transcendent, and art gone,  
Struggling through Nets of Definition.    

A Dial eaten with Antiquity.  

Wants Time a subject that the envious Elf  
Employs its Iron Teeth now on itself?  
Each Man (Nyles Hierglyphick) here allow'th,  
Time's Serpent winds its Tail into its Mouth.    

On the old Tomb keeper that showeth the Monuments in Westminster Abbey.  

YOu that gave pence a piece for't once,  
And saw a wonder thrived by stones,  
I'v paid the sum, dissol'vd the spell,  
Have seen't, and seen no Miracle.  
One (as that Bill of Fare had fed,  
Suggested stones to be made Bread)  
Makes either Charity but one,  
Of Him gives bread, or gives a stone;  
Whose Teeth can make their Table meat  
Yet grind un-blunted as they eat.  
As every morsel melted one,  
By Transubstantiation.  
His Rod (no Prophets) at descent  
Yet broaches an old Monument,  
As from that aged tears did burst  
Time there had staled for his Thirst.  
But why! me thinks this walking spirit  
Should lose like others appetite  
At least Imaginary one,  
Should fast by Imitation?  
In place once Deluged with the Seas  
Of Grief, he views those Images,  
As Waters, from the earth again,  
Ducaleon did his stony Men;  
Or as he (a New Perseus) dead  
Had statued them with Gorgon's Head,  
In Posture as they fought, and so  
Had left them still a weaponed Foe:  
When in himself he lays up all  
A Monumental Cannibal,  
And Cunning o'er the Inventory,  
He re-intombes them, and their story;  
A living-Church-yard, that oppressed  
Gives up his dead too like the rest,  
Spews Carcases, as he forerun  
Graves at the Resurrection;  
His belching Task performed once, than  
He licks the Vomit up again;  
Thus more than Man's he doth enforce  
Upon himself the Serpent's curse.  
Apple of Sodom, only skin,  
Without he is, and dust within.  
What Hair he doth preserve from loss  
Hangs on the Scull a little Moss;  
His Wrinkles into Letters run:  
And are his own Inscription.  
My Phanste shapes him now once more  
Created Adam new fleshed o'er.  
And now me thinks the carcase springs,  
Informed with the Ghosts o'th' Kings.  
Which bustle there, and thus he is  
Lined with a Metempsuchosis;  
Bravely prss●st, He takes up Rooms,  
Like the Demmiacks in the Tombs    

His imprisonment in the Spring.  

UNlocked janiver had now let in  
Youth and fair checks to beautify the spring.  
When amorous Sol smiles fetters into tears,  
That each chained River on her bosom wears.  
Rolled into Curls in better d'esse they pass,  
As I'll had been spread, but their Looking-glass.  
And leave their Banks as were Alpheus lose,  
Again pursuing his loved Arethuse.  
With Eishes crowned, that health to freedom quaff,  
Where late your might have graved their Epotaph.  
The sheets of snow washed in themselves awhile,  
Pour from the Mountain fides to swell the Nile;  
Wanton in liberty his surges slide.  
O'er Sunburnt Egypt as he flows, 'tis died;  
Who bring wild wealth for Pyramids that rise,  
Like temples sent up with their sacrifice.  
Earth her contracted Hand too open lays,  
To the love-Rhetorick of Apollo●s Rays.  
He melts it with his kisses, and the skin  
Winter had chopped, he Jellies smooth again;  
He bales her from her Gaol, where frost had once  
Immured her in the Walls of her own stones:  
New dis-intranced, she in her uncrampt Arms,  
Fruit-getting Rain (that April falls in) warms.  
To make the Goddess fertile from his tower,  
Jove here descendeth in a fragrant shower.  
And every Plant the longing Head thrusts on,  
To freeed from's Bed of Generation;  
The Poppy's d' of their Velvet Masks and dare  
Now nod to sleep, hushed by the whispering air.  
Vvaked from their Coffins, Becs with springs recruit.  
By Chemic kisses the new flowers salute.  
To welcome their approach. Our free bloods ride,  
Winter had conjured, and to Circles tied:  
Returning Birds their grateful Paeans sing,  
For their Repeal to the soft-breasted spring.  
Welcome to all but me,! Who joys the state  
That only sees a Triumph through a Crate?    

On the Burning of some locks of a Gentlewoman's Hair.  

MAdam, loves God invisible did lie  
Gyved in your Tresses, and his Bow laid by;  
Unless as are his hands, and now his fires,  
To burn his silken fetters he inspires:  
They proud of such a Pyre, Curl high and bright,  
And kissed them with a burning appetite.  
Love freed takes wing, and hastes to Venus' star,  
Mistakes, and flies back to your flaming Hair;  
Shot through the flames, he passes in a trice,  
From Purgatory into Paradise;  
And vows hencesorth to make that Place his sphere,  
From thence to whisper love into your ear.    

The Daisy.  

(1)  
AS it blows  
The Hood itself unclasped throws  
In shape a star;  
But its Pride  
Is to the flower, it s not denied  
To be a sphere.   

(2.)  
Beauty plays  
From of it, eye-disabling Rays;  
In red and white  
That are Parts  
Constituent to captive Hearts;  
Make Faces bright.   

(3.)  
Blushes shed,  
As showrs on Virgin snow had bled.  
Imbroiderie lies  
Upon leaves,  
From which the Morn her dress receives,  
To gild the skies.   

(4.)  
Nature lent  
The Daisy an imperfect scent,  
Yet left her Well;  
We bequeath  
Since to Beauties sovereign Breath,  
How e'er they smell.    

Adonis' slain.  

ALas! thou wert deceived Rude swine,  
That thought'st his Ivory hard as thine!  
So pliant Venus joints of silk,  
Oft have padled in't as Milk.  
And her Rosy Palm did throw  
Aside the waves that easy flow:  
Thy Tusk the Calm too shaken so sore  
The Wallowing Flood did Circle over;  
Oh but thy Tooth to Coral Tippe  
Itself (alas) did rashly dip;  
And ope' the springs conveyed the twigs  
There more than Flexible in sprigs.  
That from the Channels bubbling swell,  
To brink the bloody paved Well.  
Like Rubies the warm streams did spill,  
Soft from the Chemists Crucible.  
Shed to salute their new sad blisses,  
Pranked in the scarlet dye of kisses,  
They smooth and glutenously move,  
Or they had surely mixed above:  
But since they could not, Crawled about,  
As they would ucin themselves without;  
And spread in Branch a bleeding Vine,  
Whose Sappe and Clusters too are Wine.  
Fragrant Adonis slain that How'r,  
Starts an Extemporary Flower.    

Barne-Elmes.  

HE sure (who phancyed an Elisyan shade)  
Was with the Garland crowned that he had made  
That bound his brow, illustrious in its rays  
And kissed the lightning blastles as the bays;  
Though baffled now his cypress, yiewe may fall  
And naked here strowe their own Funeral;  
Their umbrage mourn too in a sadder night,  
And these Elms roof the regions of delight:  
No wreath of conquest round them need be thrown  
Victoriously triumphant in their own.  
To which we pass as Virtue for more state  
Our essence kept entire, and did translate  
We furrow up no styx but calmly ride,  
The silver back of a delicious Tide.  
Whose watery fleece after each stroke doth flit  
As if the tangled Oar were caught in it  
When now rolled o'er its dimpled smile, we tread  
On native carpets to our landing spread,  
And here we feed with a devouring sight;  
As our return we hindered by the slight  
Our cheated eyes the dizzy pavement guests  
Inebriated in its own excess;  
Where the rich Gems of fields their lustre show  
And all the flowers are of an orient hue;  
But that the close loom with opinion wars  
You'd think the melted earth reflected stars,  
Or that un-hinged Heaven inverted might  
Make proud our footsteps paved with Globes of light.  
The giddy sense turns the gay Firmament  
As if with it, it circulary went:  
But richer beauty doth their sealing lie,  
So merely theirs, 'tis a deputed sky:  
And as Hyperions son o'er curious streams  
To prick them in, he needle-points his beams;  
Arm weaves in arm, and ranks exactly suit  
As they had danced thus to Amphion's Lute:  
Had Orpheus' fingers trembled here upon  
His Lyre, the trees had moved in measure on.  
Where the deluded Sun can not where shed  
He guilds the Covering and his rays are spread  
Till by the breath of Zephyrus undone,  
A breeze of soft-lunged wind fans in the sun;  
Which thus let fall a momentary flash,  
The spangled plush doth but retreating dash:  
Birds that perch here their wilder freedom lose  
And Volunteers are Caged in the Trees;  
Tippling the places harmony, they run,  
From their harsh Notes a rich division:  
A spiced Air with downy bosom glide:  
And o'er the Foliage hardly sinking slides.  
(With apples blushed the cime) for their offence  
Sure our first Parents were exiled hence.    

Upon a Gentlewoman caught in a shower of Hail.  

THe flatteries of an April day  
My Chloe to a walk betray,  
And since the sky no mask did hid,  
Her silken clouds are thrown aside;  
The Gilt the Sun throws to repair,  
She sheds the Beams too of her hair.  
His Courtship cares not to escape,  
She knows too young yet for a rape:  
His infant rays he rather tries  
From the grown Lustre of her eyes:  
Unable so too, he doth shroud,  
His tender-eyed Beams in a Cloud.  
When at this Burial of the Sun  
The heavens put their mourning on;  
Yet to Retain his Murderer, throw  
A Banquet down on her below  
Of Candied sweets, lest she away,  
Should carry thence what's left of Day.  
Or else 'twas Jove himself did hurl,  
Thus scattered, in a shower of Pearl.  
To court my Nymph, and called in Day,  
As when he with Alcmene lay:  
Her burnished Hair, her Diadems  
Powdered with these Orient Gems;  
When shedding through the Curls for Dresses,  
They sometimes fall her Necklaces;  
Her Vesture they Imbroyde● do,  
And trickle down for Arm'lets too:  
And some that would be over-blest  
Roll between her either Breast;  
But she heaves up her Bosom there  
And stops th' Audacious Ravisher,  
To let the God know, though in's Trim,  
That milky way's not free for Him:  
The anger of her eye then fears,  
Him into penitential tears  
Now drops thrilled through her ring'd-hayr laves,  
Like springs that issue out of caves.  
And from her Neck (my wonder though)  
How Hail should be dissolved in snow.    

On the Death of a Canary Bird, killed with the Fall of a Cage.  

Stay Harmonious soul! O stay!  
That fliest but to escape away;  
Thy upper garment is forgot,  
So Light (alas!) thou knowest it not;  
Thy subtler part unkind in Fate  
Stripped the substantial at the Grate:  
Fearless of cold, unfledged it went  
O'th' pretty feathered Tenement;  
That just the Confines on of Death,  
Was but too Rich a Fur of Breath;  
Did its part so kindly do  
While alive, 'twas tuneful too.  
As thy Raptures rise and fall;  
We heard them, saw this Musical;  
That full Delight knew difference,  
Not in the subject but the sense:  
Our thirsty ears whenever Drye,  
Quenched with thy Floods of Harmony;  
Hung with such ecstasies upon,  
Thy Ravishing Division.  
The Tippled sense forgot to know,  
Whether it were pleased or no:  
What that had lost the eye hereaves  
Still as the green plush bosom heaves;  
While it pants might every sphere  
More kindly Tremble, Tutored here.  
Rolled thence the sugared note,  
Checkels in the Bubbling Throat.  
Then doth a Soul of sweetness fly,  
But left thee still Plurality:  
But what usurious Fate could Rappe  
The heavenly Legion at a Clap?  
And leave thy Carcase sadly thrown,  
To Burial in m●ss it's own?  
Can thy injurious prison slide,  
Burdened with Voice and nought beside.  
That did Heavens motions tell,  
Their Echo just but Visible?  
On horrid Styx thou now dost float  
Pirched on o● Charon's Oar or Boat;  
Tune but thy lays in length he'll hurl  
And in a Calm flag his black Curl▪  
Like Orpheus once at Hell, e'er long  
Strike thy Redemption in a song:  
That then his Cittern fare more clear,  
(Alas) will be thy stay I fear:  
Then to the shades since thou must come:  
Pirch, and make them Elysium.    

To Dr. F. B. on his game at Chess,  

WE read of Greeks could ten years' war define  
And draw its whole design in drops of wine;  
Can show where Rhaesus, where Ulysses lay,  
Who stole the Horse, ne'er touched the Fatal Hay:  
This was weak Demonstration, Sir; but you  
Bring us the very siege and soldiers too.    

Her Suspicion.  

ANd am I Monster then? it crept upon,  
Me undiscerned Transmutation;  
My but Appparell, ere't my thoughts had been  
It must like Nessus' shirt have eaten in:  
Thoughts that lay blushing there, and dashed the earth,  
Mantled in their own scarlet at their Birth;  
●owl'd o'er my throat, they from themselves unspread,  
Then'ts Native tapestry a deeper red.  
When clothed with it (in Vocal state they ride)  
My every fleece of breath is Purple died  
A blush betrayed no guilt, but modest fear,  
The guilt might be suspected, was not there.)  
And those Chameleonlike that after fly,  
From what's before them take their Livery:  
Thus I'm within one bashful flame, without  
That sins dark Lantern compasses about.  
As if repentance with my crimes oppressed  
●ust struggled out, had spilt them on my breast.  
Should the diffufive blot all overrun  
●t only cassocked o'er Religion.  
The Gemm's dark cabinet, or emblem'd in,  
The baptised aethiop's unregenerate skin;  
So hid's its face, when through the Mask of Night,  
Heaven Argus-eyed shoots out its starry sight.  
Such are your bright bauties, when you hurl,  
O'er them Eclipses with a sullen Curl.  
My all was pure within, my breast the Grate's,  
Ribbe-bound to Nunneries; my heart creates,  
Of Virgin-thoughts, that could restraint obey,  
But to converse with you, as chaste as they;  
My blood had frost upon't, that heat repels  
And only strung my veins with Icicles.  
Proabed through their every Channel, till I grew  
As Diana's statue, cold, and as stiff too;  
My pulse a Minute-clock, beat no Alarms,  
That my congealed blood to action warms.  
Why were those coy Retreats? I ne'er had known,  
The horror startled you, had been my own;  
Had not your Crystal self my Mirror been  
Silvered with Virgin, Innocence within.  
Where my fixed eyes played with such active heat  
They weak to Tears, with lustre seemed to sweat  
In their own labour, till the dire Affright,  
Of mine own image, did invert my sight;  
Turned up with pious Hate, if yet perchance,  
My heart retained a devout ignorance;  
Reason there ruled alone, Lust banished thence,  
Sure circumfused me with the soul of sense:  
Torment to my chaste mind! as I had been  
A Goat-hayred Satire penanced in my skin;  
Or what I saw as in a Magic Glass,  
Not my own Figure, but some devils was;  
His Pride had raised again to things divine,  
And had possessed you as his glorious shrine.  
But I blaspheme! the substance on them plays,  
Falls a dark shade perforce upon bright Rays.  
The boy had crossed Fate here, no Colours been  
Reflected, hence a repercussive Twin;  
Thus foil we beams your shade what's from us gone,  
Makes in the shadows a gradation;  
Yet all are shadows still, no fault in us  
That ours are dark ones, and yours Glorious;  
No more than was in him, that all things can,  
Yet made you; and an Aethiopian.  
But I perchance wrapped in a sweet surprise  
Your Cheeks to Blushes warmed with burning eyes;  
And my luxurious Heart might proudly pant  
As my heaved Bosom then had grown too scant.  
For Rebel thoughts, or a too unctuous touch,  
The Flattery to lust might hang too much  
Upon my glowing fingers, that might be  
The fiery trials of your Chastity:  
No, my hard grasp, but proved your sinking skin,  
So more than soft, I thought your soul had been  
About your body wrapped, it gave such way,  
And where I something found, your Body lay:  
When I your hand thus felt, 'twas new delight  
To try your pure transparence with my sight.  
Which made it pierce more pointed, that my eye  
Prevailed so fare, it did your thoughts descry;  
Hid in your Bosom, and my Heart did beat  
To ope' my breast (that suffered your Retreat)  
Spread wide, that put together you might spell  
Your Beauty, and all there to Miracle.    

An old Woman weeping.  

CAn those spent springs with Tears enrich  
Their either now despairing Ditch?  
Like those from Prison got, they slide.  
A Vault trills from its weeping side;  
The waters having filled their Wells,  
●ye there her aged Spectacles;  
Or as the Sources had come on  
●o fare to Resurrection.  
●o see above at this Retrieve,  
Had seen so long through Perspective;  
●ntill impulsive drops supply,  
●o swell them to too full an Eye;  
When falling from the new heaved Pile  
delivered th' are into a Nile,  
More than a sev'n-Channeld, where  
●hey trickle, on, as Currents are  
stopped sometimes by an o'erthwart Creek,  
●he Gelid drops in-lay her Cheek:  
●o chill a Nonacris, no place  
Can hold it but that hoof her Face.    

The Hectors.  

THese are the Hectors never known  
Until their Troy was overthrown:  
When now the merry Greeks define  
Their battles not transeribed in wine.    

An Epithalamium.  

UP tardy youth! Thy fancy deems  
Too solid antidating dreams;  
And thou Ixion-like art proud  
In the embraces of a cloud.  
Stars the fair regiments of night,  
Lay their commissions down of light,  
The Rose-dasht Morn doth pompous ride  
In the reflexes of the Bride:  
See! now the lusty Gallant springs  
And through a cloud of pillow flings;  
Spruce as the day, a vigorous He  
That rousing scatters bravery;  
Trained with gay lads sprightly flies,  
To sing the Bride's solemnities;  
Who at the trumps miraculous greet  
Starts from her Virgin-winding sheet:  
And now the twitting wantoness neat  
With busy fingers lay each pleat:  
While every pin they tremble on  
With rapt Gesticulation;  
And all their bosoms panting look  
As if the milky calm were shaken:  
Now they have built her in her trim  
That doth with charming motion swim,  
And were the East and West unknown,  
Fraught with both Indies of her own:  
See! how in Ring her tresses play  
As they were curled in their own ray;  
And shedding on her skin, the shine  
Enriching warms the silver Mine:  
She is advanced with pretty fear  
To meet her Licenc'd Ravisher,  
Who strikes with burning eyes her breast,  
As he had fi●'d the spicy nest,  
Then by degrees to settle seeks  
By the established beauty of her cheeks,  
And makes her spark more high and quick  
With precious Gemm's of Rhetoric.  
Now Hymen's tapers curl, and on  
Usher the bright procession;  
And now they near the temple draw,  
With one Religious common awe.  
The Virgins tread, and Bride anon  
A so transfigured troop the stone,  
As if Tertullia's Angel roof  
Thus descended from aloof:  
The Priest's now mystic words begun  
Incorporate the payr in one;  
He posts by rote, or he might miss,  
That but a Devout seer is,  
Her singeing eyes so deeply win  
He's almost Cassockt too within.  
And now the holy charm is done,  
And they to Ceremony one:  
Now time is crutched, and peevish fears  
To please too much in froward years,  
The Sons faint steeds stand (panting) still  
With labour of the Eastern hill.  
His garish rays do (lazy) fall  
Loathed, as if pestilential:  
The numerous Issue of the hour  
But linger, and Consumptive power  
Sure Sol hath heard, and lashes West  
(Red with his fiery task) to rest:  
And now his greater light is out,  
Gives the stars leave to look about:  
The tattling whisperers undescried  
Have stolen away, to bed the Bride,  
And all unpinned to better dress  
Her in her Native gloriousness,  
Whose yet reluxency doth moan  
As each knot were her Virgin Zone.  
Undone, now tremblingly she greets  
New rosing o'er the fragrant sheets.  
See! where the groom hath broken in  
(With veins stretched they look black again,  
The heightened blood shoots their recluse  
In a long flame through every sluice,)  
He views with amorous eyes that glow  
As they would melt her heaps of snow;  
Then drops his clothes about him shed  
And breaks like lightning through to bed:  
See, see! her heart doth struggling shove,  
And Earthquakes the fair hills above;  
When white and red by flashes dwell  
As if the silk were changeable:  
Go happy friend! and rifle joys,  
Of Virgin treasure never cloys;  
Still fresh delight will court to bed  
As each night were a Maidenhead;  
So quick thy soft embrace will sink,  
That she would into Air you'd think;  
Were Marble pliant, and could fall  
With a No almost touch at all,  
As smooth and white she then alo●e  
Lived in her Monumental stone.  
Rich summs of Girls and Boys go print  
And ne'er impoverish the Mint.    

On the sight of a Lady, walkeing in an Evening, in white Sarsnet.  

SO have I seen the Queen of night  
Silv'ring the shades with streams of light;  
From this fair brow no crescent shone  
But from herself her rays were thrown;  
I guessed her then one that had been  
Enjoined to wear these robes for sin;  
To whom a Taper was denied  
As what would not reveal but hid,  
Dimmed by her beauties rare excess  
As greater lights extinguish less:  
But oh! she seemed so innocent,  
'Twas sin to think she should repent:  
She spied me, than a blush she shed  
Which o'er her snowy garments spread,  
Did far excel that which each day  
The morn casts through the milky way:  
But in revenge of what I did  
Her lustres from mine eyes she hid;  
She soon withdrew her glorious light,  
And then she truly made it night.    

To his ingenious Friend, Master Maes, drawing the flowers in their successive growth.  

THy predecessor, Friend, that trave I'd Greece,  
To crowd whole Nature in one laboured piece,  
Read and taken notes from each selecter face,  
Till he composed his beauteous common place:  
You Limne your Flora thus, and from each tribe  
The scattered Goddess (Uniform) transcribe,  
What reconciled variety you bring:  
And but one Posy make of the whole spring?  
All the tautology of flowers you sum  
Into a less unruled Compendium,  
And the vast civil Law of Nature spread  
From volume draw to more sententious head;  
'Tis not a single Garden doth appear  
But the gay wealth of the transplanted year;  
'Tis no continued kindred that we see  
But the spruce heir of every family:  
Our eyes not on the same dull objects pass,  
Distracted through the multiplying glass,  
But still find new in giddy change that lie  
Tippling in ebriated memory:  
No Characters here put together spell  
The Summer into Nosegay syllable,  
But an unshufled line of Letters run  
In Alphabetical succession,  
That to the Tyro-fl●rist tabled lie  
Advantage to his primer infancy.  
The gaudy Spring here throws her wardrobe by,  
And you may trace her through her Livery,  
And finding how each days apparelled thence,  
May cast up too her possible expense,  
When I ran o'er the whole embroidery, all's  
A painted Calendar of Festivals,  
An Ark, where flowers of every kind conspire  
From the wild floods of winter to retire.  
The short and sweet lived season thus we see  
Conveyed by pencil to posterity;  
And Natures own transactions as they fell  
Our nephews will read in thy Chronicle:  
What a vast Blazon's reconciled by thee  
Digested into rule of Heraldry?  
When the first parting bud gives itself vent  
And opes for breath even stifled in the scent.  
You catch the clean unsullied beauty grown  
By your rare art the Zanye of its own;  
At least from Nature the just shadows pass,  
As if you Limmbed them in a Looking-glass:  
That Artist that invited Birds to fast,  
Deluded by his specious repast,  
Mocked by the rival shades of him of Greece,  
Put forth his hand to draw aside the piece,  
And lost that fame he might have done to you  
By hence attempting at a Posy too:  
Where the too forward Primrose lank and weak,  
Faintly declineth the Green-sickness cheek,  
The Daisy here, blessed country girl doth seem  
With bosom all of strawberries and cream,  
There gold and Silver-Chalice Lilies dwell,  
And the, as precious China-Blew bottle,  
The Tulip nigh its tissue doth display  
A useless flower, and prodigally gay,  
There swooning Violets with humble head  
And Roses blushing all underst and spread;  
Here painted July-flowers new root do take  
And the still drowsy Poppey last awake.  
Thus friend we see the Nymph by your rare power  
Echo to her Narcissus, though a flower.    

The Landschap between two hills.  

Placed on yon fair, though beetle brow  
That on the pleasures frowns below,  
Let us with sprightly fancy thence  
Teach the dumb Rhetoric, Eloquence;  
And leave the Painter's Art outgone  
Enlivening by transcription.  
First then observe with levelled sight  
Arising to this opposite;  
As if the wind in billow drove  
Here, and had rolled the earth in wave:  
The Aspen and the Bramble heaves  
And a white foam froths in the leaves:  
That spot beneath, that lies so plain  
Scorched here and there, hath lost the grain:  
As Sol there dried the Beams he sweat  
And stained the gras-green coverlet;  
That Goat the bushes nigh doth browse  
Seems the unravelled plush to frowse;  
And now let fall the eye it sees  
A pretty storm of cloudy trees,  
To us seem black and full of rain,  
As they would scatter on the plain:  
From hence the hill declineth spent,  
With imperceptible descent,  
Till un-awares abroad it flow  
Lost in the deluge spreads below.  
An Age-bowed oak doth under-root  
As it would prostrate at its foot;  
Whose thrown-out arms in length display  
And a fair shady carpet lay,  
On it a lad in russet coat,  
His soul melts through the vocal oat;  
And near that black eyed Nymph doth draw  
As if her eyes hung on the straw:  
The scrip and leathern Bottle nigh,  
(With guardian too Melampo) lie:  
The flocks are round about them spread  
In numerous fleece have clad the Mead;  
And now our eyes but weakly see  
Quite tippled with variety:  
Here the grass rowls, and hills between  
Stud it with little tufts of green:  
There in the midst a tree doth stray  
Escaped, as it had lost the way,  
And a winding river steals  
That with itself drunk curling reels,  
A cheaper flood than Tagus goes  
And with dissolved silver flows.  
Some way the field thence swells at ease  
And lifts our sight up by degrees  
To where the steep side dizzy lies  
supinely fast in precipices  
Till with the bank opposed it lie,  
In a proportioned Harmony,  
As Nature here did sit and sing  
About the cradle of the spring    

A Frost.  

IS Nature tranced? we cannot then  
By water fetch her back again,  
Our babes are jews, or Pagan, Ice  
Not Christian's, or doth circumcise;  
The watermens their Dyal miss  
That overspread with Crystal is,  
And tides that underneath it pass  
But turn within the houre-glass:  
Mahomet's Politician able  
To make the dry land navigable  
To render Rivers so might deal  
Here, by no less a miracle;  
We are (like Midas) cursed, and think  
To quench our thirst with goblet drink,  
But want his after-priviledge,  
His Tagus now is solid wedge,  
And Swans above their Dirges breath.  
The wretched Hellespont doth fear  
That it again must fetters wear,  
And Islands with no bounds content  
Are with the Sea a continent:  
Then view the shore and understand  
There's nothing lost, though writ in sand,  
And the Records as deep remain,  
As they would not be thawed again:  
Those Grandam-bones, Deucalion posed  
He had not compass now disclosed,  
And she that did the riddle tell  
Had thought the task the Oracle:  
The earth now close-comparted all,  
but an entire Mineral  
Immortal Bays that knew no fall  
Are silvered to their funeral;  
And Poets wreathed with such as these  
Writ their own Metamorphoses.    

Narcissus.  

SPent with the day to streams the boy retires;  
But these (Alas,) too flowed with liquid fires,  
And who did (Coy) the Vacal Nymph escape,  
Dies doting on the Echo of his shape.    

Lib. 3. Ode. 3. Horat.  

A just man and resolved the will  
Of Citizens commanding ill,  
Nor looks of the big Tyrant from's firm mind  
Shake, nor the wind:  
That chafes rough Adria above,  
Nor the loud hand of thundering Jove,  
If the world shattered fall,  
The ruins strike him fearless shall,    

To my honoured Friend, Coll. Richard Lovelace, On his second Poems.  

AS in the presence of some Prince, not one,  
But rates his bliss, as he is next the throne,  
To which he adds not but himself applies  
To boast the Kings to him indulgencies:  
Thus Sir, (as one you suffer) I appear  
Not to give to your fame, but to be near.  
How must I then approach? how myself show,  
So just, as that I can be, just to you!  
Thou great dispenser of that all we be  
Who giv'st us else enough, but to thank thee  
Thou hast our cheaper gratitude outwent  
And makest us sin in being excellent.  
How from thy first chaste flames thou didst inspire  
That earth we fashioned with Promethean fire?  
And thine rise no less bright for what they lent  
From the Communicative Element:  
But the insinuating Rays derive  
Something from us that was not primitive:  
Though pure in their own essences they dwell  
Not to be mixed with our corruptible;  
And should we in our courser matter die  
Would rise to their own immortality.  
But at a kingdom's second birth though ne'er  
So much devout to the already hire,  
A Nation throngs, and doth (suspended) pay  
Duty howe'er unto the newer day,  
Thus from adored Lucasta we come on  
But to bring hither our devotion:  
And though we crowd with a tumultuous pace,  
We have like Janus a respective face:  
Thou that immortal were't enough before,  
Dost now but ever live, and all this ore;  
And art above the Eagle that assumes  
(By casting the now aged off) new plumes,  
Who dost thy first as vigorous not shed,  
But when thou wouldst renew thy pomp dost spread.  
Vast Hero that wilt not alone not die,  
But layest steps to thine immortality,  
Who dost in thy applausive, Giant-wars  
From thine own blessed ascent invade the Stars;  
Thou hast throughout divided the cloven mount,  
And to thine aid with its own spire dost crowned,  
Though as thou growest near heaven it hangs the while  
As in a dear expectance of the pile,  
That swells no sacrilegious height to gain  
But doth the weighty machine there sustain.  
There then advance thy glory till our sight  
Conceive thee some new disputable light;  
That we cannot define from whence it streams  
Although we find thee by thy warmth and beams    

Ode.  

(1.)  
AH Chloris, see that Virgin bud  
That yet did ●●'r display,  
Untying of the Velvet hood  
To let the sce●t away:  
And the rich spirit of perfume,  
Will with the Air dispersed consume.   

(2.)  
Haste Cloris o'er't thy bosom throw  
That as the breath would shed,  
It there may intercepted blow  
Through the fair Lily bed:  
And thence with thy new Odours so  
Boldly incorporate may go.    

A Lady foiled.  

YOu that can read a face and by't  
(Nature's amanuensis) writ,  
Can all your subtle Art define  
Upon an Heteroclite line;  
Here then are some, though fairly wrote,  
Which superstitious care did blot;  
That who but reads to give may seem  
Interpretation, and the dream:  
If thus you cannot fate descry,  
Consult it's then Astronomy.  
For here are stars, and thick, as (too)  
A reasonable night can show;  
That fixed in that heaven, thence  
Derive their light and influence,  
Yet in themselves so black they are,  
Each seems to be a Sunburned star,  
Though such a noon about them they  
Are dark by customary day.  
Or else as at the last some write,  
Stars shall not drop, but lose their light.  
So these may them relate about,  
And are but typically out.  
Or placed on a sphere more bright,  
They lose their own subscribing light:  
Behold where the four horses run,  
And coach in mourning of the Sun,  
And underneath his sister slips  
From him in a derived eclipse!  
Sure Juno hath for Argus' eyes  
(In recompense) made blind the skies,  
Or you as fairly sighted see,  
And with as many eyes as he,  
You that do set yourself up by,  
Your glass, your own idolatry.  
Why should your blinded zeal again  
Against the very idol sin?  
Why should you flur (where she ne'er tripped)  
Acquaint natures own clean manuscript?  
Or are these periods to define  
Your beauties each sententious line?  
You lose the life thus, and are made,  
Your own but picture, these the shade.  
And some that paint, and keep this coil,  
Are downright counterfeits in oil.  
The spots (luxuriously thick)  
You in a mystic order stick.  
A mere but taffeta in streak,  
Cut on the damask of your cheek?  
Why this industrious plaistring tell  
Of fares that are invisible?  
He that in his fantastic wars,  
Was all bemangled with no scars,  
Was surely to be practised on  
With such an application:  
Can you cure beauty or apply  
To feature your Chirurgery?  
But the fair Velam of a front,  
That this Religion hath upon't,  
Creates in us devoted fears  
To the mysterious characters,  
This doth the dear Escutcheon lie,  
Of all the female Heraldry;  
And the great woman's honoured in  
Her own now proper Ermin-skin.    

De Nymphâ.  

HVjus Nympha Loci, sacri custodia fontis  
Dormio, dum blandae sentio murmur aquae.  
Parce meum, quisquis tangis cava marmora, somnum  
Rumpere; sive bibas, sive lavere, tace.    

The Nymph.  

NYmph of this place, guard of the sacred spring,  
I sleep with murmur lulled of the soft Rill:  
My rest, you that the hollow marble ring,  
Break not; you whether bathe, or drink, be still.   

SIc Apollo deinde Liber, sic videtur Ignifer,  
Ambo sunt flammis creati, prosatique ex ignibus,  
Ambo de comis calorem, & ambo radios conserunt;  
Noctis hic rumpit tenebras, hic tenebras pectoris,   

THus sol, than Bacchus thus the day doth bring,  
Both born of flames, and both of fires did spring;  
Both in their hair warmth, and both Lustre wind;  
This breaks the fogs of night, that of the mind.    

Astraea recalled.  

THou Daughter of the thunderer, who  
First left, the sinful earth leav'st too,  
Smooth now (Ast●aea) thy fell brow  
Now gentler, and ferener now;  
Oh potent maid, all things reduce  
Thee now, forthwith, in their just use:  
Fit honour now, now parents too,  
(Goddess) your godhead fit, have you,  
Now sacred fame thy birth allows,  
From Royal blood, and wealthy house,  
In mighty stocks enrouling thee,  
And now that you may dutuous be,  
We say, Astraea bids that which  
Doth please a great man, or a rich.    

The Lazar.  

OBserve yond thing made up of shreds, that less  
Keep in his warmth, than not  nakedness,  
As from our Sire he had as well, as sin,  
The suit had his originally been.  
His skin too broke with ulcers, doth confess  
A poverty as ragged, as his dress.  
And as the body, is the i'll soul too,  
Oppressed with weather, shot as keenly through.    

PHANTOMACHIA, OR The Goblin.  

YOu that, your dear selves to affright,  
With loads of shackles, scare the spirit;  
And that he walks, dare both maintain,  
At length, and lose too in his chain.  
List hither i'll, with hair upright,  
To superstition of a night.  
That will your blood make backward Run  
In a coy Circulation.  
I monster's sing, more than do lie,  
In a Heywood's goblin Hierarchy,  
And Combats that do far outdo,  
The bladders Apuleius blew.  
A Soldier that more straight (one)  
Had felt his pinch't-up garr son,  
In his unrest of search espied,  
A house luxuriously wide.  
Which yet in a deep silence Rude,  
Betrayed stupendious solitude.  
The gates secure, with plates a slant,  
As plagues had been inhabitant;  
And to let in the wholesome day,  
Spread through neglect some casements lay:  
He rapt howe'er in dear intent  
To enter the fair tenement.  
Learn that through prodigies there dwell.  
It is a very shut-up hell;  
And that the gates to worse convey  
Pain, than those open night and day.  
The Hero will (however) on,  
And exercise possession;  
frightening the country at demand,  
As if some Hercules would stand  
At entry of the shades to fight  
Against the privilege of night:  
But light and fire laid in, a bed  
In a fair (too) provision spread,  
And that the fatal time grew towered,  
The soldier draws his spell, his sword;  
And wipes it where-ere dewed, or wet,  
With moisture that the scabbard sweat.  
As hell he did intent to tame,  
With Paradises guardian flame.  
At the now Suns declining Ray,  
(The dusky Praemunire of day)  
He comes attended by his one  
Servant, to death companion.  
And the spread portals all deter,  
That gape their either sepulchre.  
The leaves (too) he that after draws  
Seems swallowed up within their jaws.  
And all good night their valour bid,  
As Curtius to his gulf had rid,  
Though calm; they yet examine do,  
The places spacious secrets through,  
And from their narrow huts distress,  
In a voluptuous Redress.  
Like birds delivered to the air,  
(Wild) frolic in their young repair.  
Fill times to one slow-stealing hand,  
From twelve did now divided stand.  
And now had intermediate gone,  
To either hour's Religion:  
When what I know not, horrors run  
Through shuddered apprehension.  
But through the wide Room that displays  
(High) the fires cheerful flame, they raise;  
And (round) the ample seat hang bright,  
With the spruce taper's simpering light;  
Then stand their doubtful guard upon,  
In fearful expectation:  
When a man's Arm appears a loof  
Naked, delivered from the roof;  
Immeasurably tottering over  
As it would dash upon the floor,  
A leg (while they suspended doubt)  
Freed from another place kicks out,  
Strait all the squeesing members shed  
And through the room (dispersed) spread,  
So drenched, and all be slubbered over,  
With the yet freshly bleeding gore;  
As some just, cruel, slaughter spent  
To rags, had a huge carcase rend;  
While in the midst a torn off-head,  
(Rough) from the trunk dissevered  
Itself doth from the wainscot free,  
Dispatching into liberty:  
That with the neck, (above) close kned,  
Doth it to the bruised shoulders fit:  
And then as I some snake have seen,  
That piecemeal hath disjointed been:  
And all in parcel scattered thrown,  
Again howe'er together grown:  
The members so do wrigg'ling nigh  
Their separated union tie,  
And (strangely creeping up) agree  
In a re-orde'rd harmony;  
Till a huge statured man doth breed,  
Arising as of Cadmus' seed:  
That like the rest doth armed stand,  
Shaking a sword twined with the hand;  
And (fell) the soldier thus bespoke,  
Thou rashly into this seat broke.  
Strait against me maintain by fight,  
Thy fatally usurped right;  
Unless perhaps you rather shall,  
Resolve an unrevenged fall.  
●he soldier wanted not advice,  
●or courage in those prodigies,  
●ut (with a mind not absent) drew  
●nd forth (to him that challenged) flew  
Not with a violence that might,  
●etray him to disordered fight.  
Nor with a fear that might distract,  
And chill him to unseemly Act;  
But (undisturbed) at posture lay,  
As with a foe in open day.  
And now advances, now let's glide  
A pass, and falls in with his side:  
When fortune seemed to smile upon  
The so industrious champion:  
For (through his foes torn bowels slid)  
His sword up to the hilts he hide,  
And then expected that anon,  
The fearful bulk to earth should run;  
●ut in an unconcerned state,  
He neither staggers in his gate;  
Nor doth his blood retiring seek,  
To (cowardly) desert his cheek.  
Or from the Orifice though wide,  
●n a luxrious torrent slide.  
But lay, as at new wounds, in doubt,  
Whether they shall or no gush out:  
While this the soldier looks upon,  
With loser admiration,  
His ready enemy him bored,  
With his quick-at-advantage sword;  
He yet not thrilled howe'er fell on,  
With a no cold suggestion.  
Nor did he through his bowels feel,  
The chilly through benumbing steel.  
When each had in a two hours' fight,  
Oft digged his foe, fare in the night,  
As if at an agreed on word;  
Each on the pummel rests of is sword,  
And in a necessary pause,  
His straight pent-up spirits draws.  
Both from their foreheads wipe the dew,  
As if the truce by purpose grew.  
Mean while the servant trims the light,  
Resoled in a successive fight.  
His tired (or) Master to supply,  
Or his obedient Martyr die:  
And now the Combatants anew  
Together (fierce) recruited flew;  
The blows are thick redoubled over  
As all a trifle were before.  
A slashed off knee the soldier thinks  
Under his foe now doubled sinks,  
And now that he (his ribs beneath)  
Doth his begored weapons sheath;  
He piece-meal feels his own decay,  
A leg, an arm now lopped away:  
And now the head (as strangely slunk)  
Beleev's dissevered from the trunk.  
That unremoved remains upon it,  
As had a Germane headsman don't;  
Nor had an any wound beside,  
The yet unin jured body tried:  
But the more-laboured minds intent  
The faints-by-degree soldier spent:  
His blows are with less weight laid on,  
His steps low, languid motion;  
〈◊〉 breath's fetched thick, his face bespread  
All o'er with glowing fires red,  
〈◊〉 there almost as it supplied  
The bodies, where moisture dried:  
When turned from's foe himself, with's last,  
Almost left strength, he heedless cast,  
As if now given-over dead,  
Upon the there prepared bed,  
●nd to his servant, all on fire  
With the encounters wild desire,  
Bequeathed a place wherein to prove,  
His (to his deceased Master) love;  
But here a shorter fight's success,  
Both make the either hazard less:  
Dor this same Crum collected he,  
●o terrible his enemy.  
Smites on the face, that he doth all,  
Amazed on the pavement fall.  
Then to the bed comes and whe●s on,  
To fight the-there-layd champion;  
Who with weak voice commands him thence,  
Since after such a times expense  
●n duel; he cannot afford  
A strength to raise his arm, or sword,  
The other grants him rest upon  
●he thus proposed condition.  
That he hereafter will forswear.  
That idly superstitious fear.  
And whate'er God some oldwives prate  
Did from his youth insinuate  
To be adored, that now his breast  
With better counsel will detest.  
When now the Hero, That he first  
Was ready to endure the worst.  
Above his then strength, would have roared,  
And raised now; looked back to his sword.  
The Spectar's empty shape did clear,  
And in the Air thin'd dispappear.  
The soldier sunk down to repose,  
Not (till the day grew old) arose,  
Yet raised his servant that did snore  
Not yet recovered from the floor;  
But see the miracle that grew!  
He not his own attendant knew.  
But though by his malignant hue,  
He had another task to do.  
For where the wound received had been,  
It an eclipse was not a skin;  
But (Reconciled) the gates they tree,  
And spread them to their liberty.  
Then past to those that at the cell,  
Do wait for their return from hell,  
Their eyes upon the soldier ●well,  
A strangely believed spectacle;  
When his companion in his face,  
Confirmeth the infernal place,  
And to the multitude appears,  
In countenance their very fears.   
Ex Barclaij.  
Satyrici parte 1. pag. 36,   

AN ELEGY, Sacred to the Memory of my late honoured Friend, Colonel Richard Lovelace.  

PArdon (blessed shade) that I thus crowd to be  
Among those, sin unto thy memory;  
And that I thine valued Relics spread;  
And am the first that pillages the dead:  
Since who would be thy mourner as befits,  
But an officious sacrilege commits.  
How my tears strive to do thee fairer right!  
And from the Characters divide my sight.  
Until it (dimmer) a new torrent swells,  
And what obscured it falls my spectacles.  
Let the luxurious floods (impulsive) rise  
As they would not be wept, but weep the eyes,  
The while earth melts, and we above it lie,  
But the weak bubbles of Mortality:  
Until our griefs are drawn up by the Sun,  
And that (too) drop the exhalation.  
How in thy dust we humble all our pride?  
And bring thee a whole people mortified!  
For who expects not death, now thou art gone,  
Shows his low folly, not Religion.  
Can the Poetic heaven still hold on  
The golden dance when the first movers gone?  
And the snatched fires (while circularly hurled)  
●n their strong Rapture glimmer to the world?  
And not stupendiously rather rise,  
The tapers unto these Solemnities?  
Can the Chords move in tune when thou dost die  
At once their universal Harmony?  
But where Apollo's harp (with murmur) laid  
Had to the stones a melody conveyed;  
They by some pebble summoned would reply  
●n loud results to every battery;  
Thus do we come unto thy marble room,  
To echo from the music of thy tomb.  
May we dare speak thee dead, that wouldst be  
●n thy Remove only not such as we?  
No wonder the advance is from us hid,  
Earth could not lift thee higher than it did!  
And thou that didst grow up so ever nigh,  
Art but now gone, to immortality:  
So near to where thou art thou here didst dwell,  
The change to thee is less perceptible.  
Thy but unably-comprehending clay,  
To what could not be circumscribed gave way.  
And the more spacious tenant to return,  
Cracked (in the two restrained estate) its urn  
That is but left to a successive trust,  
The soul's first buried in the body's dust.  
Thou more thyself now thou art less confined  
Art not concerned in what is left behind;  
While we sustain the loss that thou art gone  
Un-essenced in the separation.  
And he that weeps thy funeral, in one,  
is pious to the widowed Nation.  
And under what (now) Covert must I sing  
Secure as if beneath a cherub's wing:  
When thou hast ta'en thy slight hence, and art nigh  
In place to some related Hierarchy,  
Where a bright wreath of glories doth but set  
Upon thy head an equal Coronet;  
And thou above our humble converse gone,  
Canst but be reached by contemplation.  
Our Lutes (as thine was touched) were yecall by,  
And thence received the souls by sympathy;  
That did above the threads inspiring creep,  
Any with soft whispers broke the amorous sleep:  
Which now no more (moved with the sweet surprise)  
Awake into delicious Rhapsodies.  
But with their silent Mistress do comply,  
And fast in undisturbed slumbers lie.  
How from thy first ascent thou didst disperse  
A blushing warmth throughout the universe,  
While near the morns Lucasta's fires did glow,  
And to the earth a purer dawn did throw,  
We never saw thee in the Roll of fame  
Advancing thy already deathless name;  
And though it could but be above its fate,  
Thou wouldst however supererrogate.  
Now as in Venice when the wanton state,  
Before a spaniard spread their crowded plate;  
He made it the sage business of his eye,  
To find the Root of the wild treasury.  
So learned from that Exchequer, but the more  
To rate his Masters vegetable Ore:  
Thus when the Greek and Latin Muse we read  
As the but cold inscriptions of the dead;  
We to advantage then admired thee  
WHo didst live on still with thy Poesy:  
And in our proud enjoyments, never knew  
The end of the unruly wealth that grew.  
But now we have the last dear Ingors gained.  
And the free vein (however rich) is drained;  
Though what thou hast bequeathed us, no space  
Of this world's span of time shall ere embrace:  
But as who sometimes knew not to conclude,  
Upon the waters strange vicissitude;  
Did to the Ocean himself commit,  
That it might comprehend what could not it:  
So we in our endeavours must, out-don,  
Be swallowed up within thy Helicon.  
Thou now art laid up in thy precious Cave,  
And from the hollow spaces of thy grave,  
We still may mourn in tune, but must alone  
Hereafter hope to quaver out a groan;  
No more the chirping sonnets with shrill notes  
Must henceforth Volley from our treble throats,  
But each sad accent must be humoured well,  
To the deep solemn Organ of thy Cell.  
Why should some rude hand carve thy sacred stone,  
And there incise a cheap inscription.  
When we can shed the tribute of our tears.  
So long till the relenting marble wears:  
Which shall such order in their cadence keep.  
That they a native Epitaph shall weep;  
Until each Letter spelt distinctly lies,  
Cut by the mystic droppings of our eyes.    

ODE To Chloris forsworn.  

(1.)  
OFt Cloris perjured you have been,  
And still are bright,  
However dark within,  
With out side light;   

(2.)  
You have forsworn the numbers over,  
Yet no less fair  
Are (Chloris) then before,  
in an one hair.   

(3.)  
No more, no more, to me protest  
Your Oaths I know,  
If gods take them in jest,  
I will not so    

The Net  

What silkworm hath (unravelled) shed  
Itself in snares thus subtly spread,  
Where the deluded sight is taught  
To find them but by being caught.  
And hands in search that curious be,  
Struggle in their captivity:  
Obedient to what Lemnian sire,  
Followed the finely-ductile wire;  
Smaller then Gossamer, that plays,  
Gay in the Sun's yet Eastern Rays:  
When the rash morn hangs loosely dressed,  
The air with silk sleaved from her vest.  
And every bush and tree doth tear  
From her jaged Robe the threads they wear:  
She that in stubborn art durst strive,  
For Giantlike prerogative,  
(With heavens incensed Virago) is  
But foiled in Metamorphosis;  
And in her tasqus still so devout,  
She frets her less-loved bowels out;  
Now by these toils o'ercome, may tomb  
Herself, (wound up) in her own loom.  
Those thin Raw films that (early) lie,  
On herbs a dewy tiffany.  
●re of a courser woof, and set  
〈◊〉 a less quaintly-masqued Net.  
●hough beams there tangled in rich draught,  
●hat lick them up, are in them caught;  
The hair of virgins big and rude,  
●re boisterous in similitude,  
●nd who invisibles would see,  
Hence fetches his Hyperbole:  
Can the flawed snares untwisted sling  
To their first miracle of st●ing,  
The tackle might that vessel third,  
A Bee could with her wings have hid;  
How do those gross-lincked chains displease,  
That (stubborn) can but Collar fleas.  
When now a file with nearer art  
Hath made a give for every part?  
The roughly here-alighting fly,  
Doth but the furer Captive lie;  
Where a light mealy gnat may knit  
The giving trammell, locked in it;  
And pull for freedom, in the gin  
You might make up a whisper in.   

QVod tua mille domus solidas habet Alta columnas,  
Quod tua marmoreo janua poste nitet.  
Aurea quod summo pendent laquearia tecto,  
Imum crusta tegit quod pretiosa locum.  
Atria quod circa dives regit omnia cultus,  
Hoc animos tollit (nempe) Batave tuos.  
Aedthus in totis gemmae licet omnta claudunt  
Turpe est nil Domino, turpius esse suo.   

To Batavus.  
AThousand pillars cause your houses height,  
Lift, and your gate with marble posts is bright;  
Because aloof the Roofs shine gilded over,  
And that a precious crust doth pave the flore:  
Cause all the Courts round with rich stuff are lined,  
This therefore puffes (Batavus) up your wind.  
Though through the house gems lock up all foul 'tis,  
That nothing than the owner fouler is.    

ODE.  

(1.)  
AH Lice did my flames within  
Thy bosom glow,  
The hills above had long since been,  
Without their snow.   

(2.)  
But unrelenting heaps there lie  
That frost doth hold,  
And more, then in their livery,  
Veins blue, with cold.   

(3.)  
How (Lice) how thought may it be,  
That thy each part  
With winter bound, so limber the  
Leaves as thou art?   

(4.)  
Oft when I try if thou art stone  
Thinking thee such,  
The art of some Pygmalion,  
Deceives my touch.   

(5)  
Then Lice if thou art within  
So only coy  
Let me what kind and foft hath been,  
Without enjoy.    

To his Noble Friend, J. R. The Prison.  

HOw a no-prisoner, unconcerned, and free?  
Is the soul bay led by its Morality?  
And he that's placed upon a square content,  
Becomes his fetters into ornament;  
That him though (all in irons) up you roll,  
His body wears them, but as that his soul,  
Heroic temper! but of uncouth use,  
To one without probation, a Recluse,  
When the uneasy prison sets unkind;  
And pinches to distress the crowded mind,  
That catching at advantage to be free  
Is e'en squeezed out of its mortality;  
Thus the poor captive (struggling in his thought)  
Pulls to the snare, and is in soul too caught,  
And the dark night-piece of his sullen grot,  
In adventitious shadow is one blot.  
He hugs a hell about him, so more one,  
As he contemplates lost fruition,  
That a beam crannied in doth value want  
A coily superstitious visitant.  
To one spells torment from Remissions sent  
Reversed by Hebrew of his discontent.  
How doth he weigh his chains then wildly thinks,  
And wire-drawes into thread the massy links?  
Now pining in their close embrace doth waste,  
As he would vanish out of them at last.  
And darting at his thrifty grates small light:  
He only vexes his imprisoned sight;  
Till the penned wretch abhorring life doth find,  
A body more immortal than his mind.  
But Sir in you another fate I have,  
That cuts me from the humble, and the brave,  
For where you mediate, you convert the cause,  
And we are undisturbed, without applause,  
Since dungeons, are no dungeons, that you see,  
But more entire retreats to liberty:  
And the sad roofs that glisten, danck with time,  
Seem gilded over with reconciled slime.  
While on the pavement we uninjured lie,  
And the moist stones sweat in their agony:  
Gyves that enrobe us by your magic lie,  
But speciously-phantastick misery;  
Nay by deluding, we invert their powers,  
And are no more their prisoners, but they ours.  
As we from tumult but withdrew that thus,  
A freedom more itself might visit us,  
And the Restraints that we enjoy you by,  
But shuts us up within a Library.  
Where the blessed friendship that you there detaines,  
Makes the rich volumes prisoners to our chains.    

ODE.  

(1.)  
COme, come and set  
Upon my head  
That Rosy Coroner,  
And let it shed,  
Until the beauty of the morn  
Be round my temples worn.   

(2.)  
Then to the brink  
That goblet fill,  
I'll in the Ocean sink  
So far, until,  
With beams of my emergent face  
The weaker dawn I chase.    

Pentadii.  

NOn est, falleris, haec beata, non est,  
Quod vos creditis esse, vita non est,  
Fulgentes manibus videre gemmas,  
Aut testudineo jacere lecto,  
Aut plumâ latus abdidisse molli,  
Aut auro bibere, aut cubare cocco,  
Regales dapibus gravare mensas,  
Et qui●quid lybico seca●ur arvo,  
Non unâ positum tenere cellâ;  
Sed nullos trepidum timere casus,  
Nec vano populi favore tangi,  
Et stricto nihil aestuare ferro,  
Hoc quisquis poterit, licebit  
Fortunam moveat loco superbus.   

YOu are deceived, the life of bliss,  
That you believe, this is not, this,  
To see your hands with jewels spread,  
Or rest upon a Tortoise bed.  
Or in soft down to sink your thigh,  
To drink in gold, or scarlet lie,  
Your board with Royal fare to load,  
And what in Lybian fields is mowed,  
Not in one store-house to engross:  
But (not to trembling) fear a loss,  
Nor change at noise of the vain Rout,  
Nor sweat at all at a sword out;  
Whoever this but can (above)  
May fortune from her seat remove.    

To her taxing him for late writing to her.  

THink where you see my Rhymes un-even meet  
Through fear they crowd on to outrun the sheet:  
I bring you lazy numbers should have been  
Thrown at your feet, when at less years and sin;  
When my undressed Muse had no other fence:  
Like Eve in Eden, but her Innocence:  
Adam less bashful in these first of Days,  
Was in his Figge-leaves then, I now in Bays.  
The Trees immortal, and had need be too;  
I had not offered else one sprig to you;  
Writ I on Bark, th' un-papered Ancient's Won't,  
You'd think my languid lines were biered upon't:  
Like wanton sinners I have huddled on;  
Divinest things are latest thought upon.  
But (Madam) all I ●rote, suppose in way  
To you the Copy Papers of Essay.  
Let not she think she's under-rated too,  
They must be stars  they be foils to you:  
Like the young Eagles, their since bassled Sun,  
Your eyes preparative, I armed upon;  
Those twinn's of light, I doubted to confine,  
Loves Terches to a Paper-lanth●rne shrine:  
Nor had I ventured yet, but that they sing,  
Not their uninjured Lids but gild the fringe.  
You must not (blest one) my attempt illude  
In taking from you by similitude.  
We represent a Deity, as we  
Can haply do it, not as it should be;  
Nor your compendious sweetness must you guests,  
My but-enoding Glosses have made less:  
Where matter is so full, and so perplexed,  
The Comment's forced to outswell the Text.  
And should be printed small, had need so too  
Hundred such own Birth to a line of you.    

Giganto-Machia.  

THose son's that on their Mother scaled the clouds,  
As Heirs do Honours on their Parents shrowds,  
Heaped Hill on Hill to force the proud ascent,  
Until Earth risen the highest Element.    

The Tooth ache.  

Un-passioned Stoics, you that slight the Rack,  
When your each way distended sinews crack;  
Whose still calm Faces, wrinkles ne'er deform,  
And no extreme can Ruffle into storm.  
Here I'll untune all your still musicked sect,  
And teach your stubborn souls a dialect  
Of uncouth groans, and sighs, that (rising) pine,  
Close penned, and burst your straitlaced discipline,  
And by an Ache that though you must disdain,  
A tooth shall with the soul possess of pain.  
Shed through the whole, and yet it's subtle ire  
Shall lie in every Cranny too entire;  
As were the spirit legion in it thus  
Lodged singularly multitudinous,  
An ache that brings defluctions too of Rheum,  
As it without its tears could not consume;  
Strange Trochylus! offspring of thine own Nile  
Suckled at teeth sure of some Crocodile!  
Thou uncouth favourite of famine fed  
As infects are, that make the Mill their bread,  
Thou Labyrinth'st a Tooth, and as thou scru'st,  
With a continued thread of pain it clu'st;  
Tipplest in Marrow, and in thy dire play  
Of thousand wander findest or makest, a way,  
Thy swarm of torments for the honey flings,  
Into the fretted Comb only the stings,  
An Hydra-headed Cerberus with j●ws,  
There surfeited with anguish (couchant) gnaws;  
Had Pelops Ivory shoulder known the guest:  
His limbs in the Repair had been unblessed.    

Mart. Lib. 1. Epig. 48. To Flaccus.  

WHat wench I would, what not? Flaccus you move;  
I would not one too easy, nor too coy;  
The mean and that between both I approve,  
I will not what may vex, nor what may cloy.    

The mute Dialogue.  

I Saw two Lovers talk, my eye to hear  
Deprived my Eare.  
The man in manners this no silence breaks,  
And blushes speaks;  
The busy Nymph then (ne'er so true before)  
Was tongue all o'er;  
Her eye exhales the vocal blood to sphere,  
The Rhetoric there:  
Thence showers it out in beams that he may fly  
To's speaking eye.  
Love equal their relief sends to both hearts,  
Missives on Darts,  
Until a parting sigh, that drew them thence,  
Called home my sense.    

In Amicitias.  

VIve, & Amicitias omnes cole, verius hoc est  
Quam Regum solas effuge amicitias.  
Est mea mors testis, major me afflixit amicus,  
Deseruitque minor: Turba cavenda simul,  
Nam quicunque pares fuerant fugere fragorem,  
Nec dum collapsam deseruere domum.  
Nunc, & non tantum, Reges fuge (vivere doctus)  
Vni vive tibi, nam morie●e tibi.    

Against Friendships.  

LIve and all friendships make, this is more true  
Than the alone friendships of Kings eschew.  
Witness my death, a greater friend me struck,  
And (a to be shrined tribe,) a less forsaken;  
For my who  peers were from the crack shrunk,  
And did my house desert e'er yet it lunk.  
And (taught to live) now Kings alone not fly,  
Live to your oneself, for you so must die.    

Ode.  

(1)  
SEe how those full-aged Grapes do strain  
In the deep, Crimson flood,  
Would you not think to breathe a vein  
Would do the clustres good?  
Let's then the rich distemper free,  
And frolic drink the pleurisy.   

(2.)  
Until our cheeks as much in grain,  
And stretched as sleek appear  
As if the twice-born God again  
Another birth had there:  
And when the Vine is drawn off, we  
Will our own second Vintage be.   
(3.)   

Ode.  
To the Prisoner.  

(1.)  
THink but the fetters that you wear  
A dress with your consent,  
And what should wound, will then appear  
A wanton Ornament;  
He that contemns no wretch can be,  
Belief creates our misery.   

(2.)  
Why should you therefore chide your sat  
'Cause the coy Prince of day  
Vouchsafes not to look through your grate,  
Or cast a beam that way,  
Rather applaud the Sun that he  
Not pries into calamity.   

(3.)  
Then render not your bed of stone  
The harder by unrest;  
Rocks will not melt to hear you groan  
Scorn softens them the best:  
And he that can lie still in woe,  
Is in a calm, though all winds blow.    

A New Years-Gift.  

MAy Fortune (Madam) Happy too  
Be Prodigally just to you.  
And crown the Brow that Nature gems  
In her best Native Diadems!  
Saw she! she would herself undo,  
And then expect an Alms from you;  
Nay, had she eyes, she would but see  
Fond to part with them, to thee:  
A Good year bless you Madam! may,  
That Chemist that extracted Day  
From the rude Chaos, force too thence  
A momentany Quintessence  
To make up yours, till it appear,  
Throughout but an Elixired year!  
I kept a careful Vigil (Fair)  
Upon the lagging Nights impair,  
To see the trembling shadows break,  
And with approaching day grow weak,  
Till scattered Attom's had undone  
Them into Dissolution.  
And the Rich Dawne did guilt appear  
In Blushes of the Virgin-year:  
I could discern the Minute kiss,  
Divided that is past, and this;  
When twofaced Janu's lips could suit  
To both of them at once, salute:  
That by that Crisis I might find  
The pulse of Time more free and kind:  
Now know the years whole state can tell  
What hours shall slip what sickly dwell;  
Can sound their subtle Depth  they  
Long Ropes of sand that fathom day.  
And (Madam) I pronounce this year,  
To you, as that first Moment clear,  
That shot a Ray, was early born  
To thread the Rubies of the Morn;  
A happy chain will thorough play,  
Of fine Enamelled Night and Day.  
Yet when all's done that this can do,  
May it give place to better new.    

The fair Nymph scorning a black Boy courting her.  Nymph. 
STand off, and let me take the Air,  
Why should the smoke pursue the fair.  Boy. 
My face is smoke, thence may be guest  
What flames within have scorched my breast.  Nymph. 
The flames of love I cannot view,  
For the dark Lantern of thy hue.  Boy. 
And yet this Lantern keeps love's Taper,  
Surer than yours that's of white paper,  
Whatever midnight hath been here  
The Moonshine of your light can clear.  Nymph. 
My Moon of an Eclipse is 'frayde,  
If you should interpose your shade.  Boy. 
Our curled embraces shall delight,  
To chequer Limbs with black and white  Nymph. 
Thy ink, my paper, make me guests,  
Our Nuptial bed would make a press;  
And in our sports if any came,  
They'd read a wanton Epigram.  Boy. 
Yet one thing sweetheart let me ask,  
Buy me for a new-false-mask.  Nymph. 
Yes, but my bargain must be this,  
I'll throw my Mask off, when I kiss.  Boy. 
Why should my hue thy love impair?  
Let the dark shop commend the ware,  
Or if thy Love from black forbears,  
I'll strive to wash it off with tears.  Nymph. 
Spare fruitless tears, since thou must needs  
Still wear about thee mourning weeds,  
Tears can no more affection win  
Than wash thy Aethiopian skin,   

The Inversion.  Nymph. 
STand off fair Boy, thou wilt affright  
My solitude with sudden light.  Boy. 
My face is light, thence may be guessed  
The truth of thy transparent breast.  Nymph. 
The truth of Love I cannot view,  
For the full lustre of thy hue.  Boy. 
The lustre's sooner pervious made  
Then your impenetrable shade;  
 Noon, my day doth trim,  
Your thick however Mist may dim.  Nymph. 
My Mist would fear to break away,  
If you should intermix your ray.  Boy. 
Our curled embraces shall delight  
With Limbs to shuffle day and night:  Nymph. 
Thy light my darkness make me fear  
Our bed a Chaos would appear;  
And in our sports did any pass,  
They'd see the indigested Mass.  Boy. 
Yet one thing sweetheart let me crave,  
Me for a new-false mirror have;  Nymph. 
Yes, but my bargain must request,  
I throw my glass by, when undressed:  Boy. 
Why should my hue thee less delight,  
Let the Star-soyles set of the night:  
Or if thy love from light forbears,  
I'll strive to put it our with tears.  Nymph. 
Spare fruitless tears, since thou must needs  
Still have on thy Transfigured weeds,  
Tears can no more affection win,  
Then overcast thy Angel Skin.   

ODE.  

(1.)  
OUr flames that (Chloe) did conspire  
In one fair Pyramid of fire,  
So subtly had together grown  
That both and neither were our own;  
And 'tis my wonder how you rend,  
The Element in the consent.   

(2.)  
But mine must widowed now burn  
While from them yours (re-clining) turn,  
Drawn by a more attractive Ray  
That carries the spread-beames away;  
To new embraces where they may  
Rise wanton in their lament play.    

A Prologue to a Play presented by some Gentlemen to a select company of Ladies, on New years day last.  

BLess me! A light we looked not for supplies,  
A fine Familiar Starlight of bright eyes.  
That dims the Tapers which would else turn blue!  
But that you (fair ones!) are good Angels too:  
You of our Sex and Friends, may thank the slight,  
Had it but barely brought you to this sight:  
A sight, that stroke like lightning yet I dare  
Gather within the Fires though Circular;  
When the spread beams shoot round me from such flames;  
That their own Elemental pureness tames;  
A cheerful light! not meant to Martyr here,  
And into Scaffold turn our Theatre.  
Brisk Mirth to all we hope each Brow the while  
(ne'er so severe) may polish into smile.  
Expect not then we so a pass can hid,  
That you might think it on the other side.  
Or fright you into wounds misunderstood,  
When the Tame sponge, not weapon, sheds the blood:  
This is sta●e Pedantry! nor think we can  
(Trim Player's) quite put off the Gentleman;  
When each so genuinely Acts his Part,  
As that alone, he hath Himself by Heart.    


To his Friend.  
In troth I love the, and I fain would tell,  
(But that I love thee more than so) How well.   

The Siren.  
Strange Thetis-waves● submisly slide  
While thou dost thine own Dolphin ride,  
And still expecting Peleu's rape,  
Art half in thy delusive shape:  
Thy upper part imperfect lies  
Begot between platonique eyes,  
That to whole Act could not be drawn,  
But left the rest to sense and spawn,  
Who views thee might believe thee well  
A miserable spectacle,  
Whom first the seas had overpowr'd,  
and then some fish had half devoured,  
The shambles reconciled, and stall  
Thee a mere dispensation call,  
Plump Easter, we before thee find,  
Drawing an Ember week behind;  
Wert thou at once but served up all  
To the man eating Cannibal,  
He would admire the uncouth fish,  
In the variety of's dish,  
For thee may sheets and cloth, be spread,  
Divided 'twixt the board and bed,  
Thy carnal pleasures are confined,  
And thou growest downward new inclined,  
That who would ravish finds not what  
It is he should devirginate.  
In thy embrace were chaste delight,  
But for thy hightend appetite,  
That the not possible else Act,  
Doth to the sense of thought contract,  
And fornication drawn by fires  
Of lust doth rise to thy desires.  
Lie to thy bosom bedded o'er,  
And through neglect show something more,  
In hope of still such blessed degrees,  
I will believe thee all one piece,  
Or let some happy sentence stick  
Thee in the earth half-buried quick;  
I will make love to what is left,  
And think the rest as fair bereft.  
What great Apelles did intent  
To draw thus low, what none should end,  
And art outdone in bitter hate  
●ur'd, what it could not imitate,  
When from thy stern I lift my sight  
To thy naked margin of delight,  
Thou seem'st (in thine own mail bespread)  
A chastely locked up Maidenhead  
And as from front I thee pursue,  
And to thy navel downward view,  
Losing the tract that I was in:  
●line eyes do run thee o'er again.  
Oh rise but from thy watery bed,  
●re thou art half discovered  
〈◊〉 will believe some Venus starts,  
And still attend thy other parts,  
Those liquid robes from off thee throw,  
●nd out of thine apparel grow,  
●hen naked to the middle slid  
●lead modesty for what is hid.  
When no curled billows on it frown  
●hou layest thy bosoms panting down  
●ore white and soft than Leda's swan,  
On the less yielding Ocean,  
And as thou div'st, or leav'st the main;  
Thine eyes set stars or rise again,  
He that with wax secured his ear,  
(Alas) but made up half his fear,  
From thine harmonious surprise  
That scaled (too) not up his eyes;  
When thou dost with thy tresses play,  
And shak'st them dry in their own Ray;  
On the bright scales, the golden shower,  
Like Jove descends on Danae's Tower;  
Or as they cling about thee (wet)  
Thou art half caught, in thine own Net.   

Fair Islander that when you Lave,  
Do make a Delos of a wave;  
Thou that betwixt the sea and land,  
Dost equally divided stand.  
While half upon some Rock doth sleep,  
Half keeps possession in the deep.  
Thou laden Carache that dost ride,  
Half ore, and half beneath the tide.   

Thou Riddle Fancy, what you please,  
Dragon to thine Hesperides.    

AMARANTHA.  

NOw radiant Solemnising with flaring Hair  
Had gilded the atoms of the air;  
And all to earth that his eye sees  
Appeared but one Golden Fleece;  
The Snake un rolled in length did fling  
Her curiously enamelied Ring;  
The Marigold full view did take  
Of her gay lover broad awake;  
And pirched Birds from spray to spray  
Fan with their wings the heat away:  
When Amarantha too retires  
Faint with the days and her own fires  
To shades the leaves as she drew near,  
Shudder with apprehensive fear  
As if the Sun that could not win,  
Without, upon them, broke within:  
Nor would she here a change have known  
Environed still with beams her own;  
But use made the habitual dress  
An unoffensive gloriousness:  
She now dispersed the Clouds about,  
And let her stifled shine break out;  
Like water spilt the blood did seek  
Luxuriously to slain her cheek;  
But she corrects with wind o're-shed?  
The Roses the warm Sun had spread:  
When now reclining to her bed  
A turf swells pillow to her head,  
Where she reposes easy, as  
Her cheek salutes the tufted grass:  
The whispering Foliage conspires  
To hush asleep her soft desires;  
Her winged Musicians fear to brush  
The trembling leaf with backs of plush,  
And power but out their melted notes  
Long moulded in their Lubric throats:  
When sleep with looks aside were thrown  
Did close her Eyes might blast his own;  
And I with furtive steps advance  
To steal the treasures of a glance  
Where me her lightning flashed upon  
Not armed for weak succession;  
But recollected I ensnare  
My Eye-beam's twisted in her hair  
And in the subtler net by draughts  
Snare my imperceptible thoughts.  
So fill'md, no momentany wire  
Knits so but touched nor Gossimire;  
Drawn so small one can't express,  
(Superlatively numberless.)  
One hand here richly manackeld  
The Glories of the head upheld  
While through the curls the fingers play  
Preciously ringed in the ray;  
And those the bright support had missed.  
Shed harmless Snakes about her wrist:  
Moved with wind they (falling deep)  
With breath enlivened downward creep  
To kiss the arm, but back they throw  
As shrunk from the mistaken snow:  
The rest were in a glorious brown  
Shade about her temples thrown  
On every side as they it him  
They foil not, that it guilded them.  
Her Closed lights observe I did  
Glow through the thinness of the lid,  
And modest shine, that round them lies,  
Blushing their newer fashioned eyes:  
The rays that fringed them they dispense,  
As emissary beams from thence  
Whence oriental stains upon't  
Blazon with Pearl the noble front  
That only else by birth had been  
Escutcheoned with the Argent skin.  
My smacking eyes I now dimiss  
That with repeated long kiss  
Where a rich Aromatic breath  
Through Lips of Coral issueth:  
Her breasts my sight next (tempting) win  
Might suckle more without than in.  
So soft my sense their bliss I barred  
Lest I might Pit them, looking hard;  
Else ever here I could have drained:  
When now my Infant gases weaned  
Grew strait up to that hand did slide,  
Stretched out and pale upon her side  
A still smooth Sea, of Milky way!  
Whence her Finger's rivulets play;  
Melted Rubies there do flow  
Through Saphyr pipes in floods of snow:  
VWhen I was busy to re see  
She awaked and blinded me.    

CHARLES the Fifth, Solemnising his own Funerals.  

THat precipitious Macedonian, who  
When he had done, wept he had not to do,  
And the bold Caesar, that did come and eye  
Some place his necessary victory,  
Like snails crept to their conquests, and at death  
Left their not tired fortunes yet in breath,  
But wildly pinnacled this Monarch drew  
His, whence, her giddy eyes (distracted) view  
Their far off safety, nor durst she be won  
To aid him in a yet translation,  
That with a holy violence made wars,  
Now having conquered men, to conquer stars;  
And a I his earth and empires trampled on,  
Advance him to this new invasion.  
Blessed humbler of that world thou fettred'st fast,  
And then thyself took'st prisoner at the last:  
Didst triumph o'er whole Nations first, that done  
End'st in thine own proper ovation,  
And laden now with spoils and trophies threw'st  
Thyself and glorious burden safe reclu'st:  
Like those (that feathered above fortunes mock)  
Leave tamer use, and live upon the stock;  
Or through thy stubborn task, now having gone,  
Thou gatherest up to repetition  
And the huge volume read will startle mere  
In contemplation then in act before  
The prodigies thou didst cast up by guess  
Will make thy coward f●ith compute them less,  
And yet thou hadst a reach beyond all don  
And left'st them with a brave ambition,  
Tired with a no resistance thou didst fly  
To an unbroke reserve of victory,  
Where thy full valour witty in repast  
Revels in choicest viands at the last;  
And journeying from our tumult thou dostly  
Inned half way towards immortality,  
In thy last progress (too) thou heep'st more state  
That send'st thyself, thine harbinger, to fate,  
And the pale tyrant wonders how it falls  
That thou art left behind thy funerals,  
Who in thy passage unto heaven dost die  
But thiter first on thine own Embassy;  
Or not acquainted with the grave before  
Those hidden Regions thou dost thus explore  
That meanest a conquest there, so thine own spy,  
Thou rid'st but out first on discovery.  
Clear sighted Prince thy piercing eyes could see  
The other side of dark mortality,  
Thou mew'dst but aged pomp, Eagles of kin '  
So cast their beak and plumes, and live again:  
That Oriental bird, that in her spice  
Burns to the parent Sun a sacrifice,  
She in whom all the glorious kindred wombs  
That dies at once eternal Hecatombs  
Hath yet that small cold interval upon  
Her ashes, ushers Resurrection;  
But thou liv'st on to see thyself renew,  
And passing death thou keepest life in view,  
As with it thou in equal state didst vie  
Thou walkest but hand in hand with destiny;  
Strange Eagle (through the whole body spread)  
That liv'st on one side, and art one side dead.  
Thou torment of Mezentius that dost lie  
Proportioned to thine own mortality,  
Thou hast the grossly unsloughed snake surpassed,  
That liv'st in substance, thy but shadow cast  
With what unheard of ransom didst thou bribe,  
The hand of, fate thee barely to transcribe,  
Course laws of flesh and blood thou dost control,  
And art Divine in something more than soul;  
So the fam'd-tripple-Night begotten Son  
Whom the god parent could not crowd in one,  
Wound in that shirt would him inglorious tame,  
Leapt to his pire, and roabd with milder flame  
In his unequal mother only died,  
Unin jur'd on his siers immortal side.  
Thus wouldst thou visit the third Heavens as well  
In search, as who was wrapped by miracle,  
Who rein'st successive time that thou mayst be  
Allied to what thou seekest, Eternity,  
One place at once confinement is to thee,  
And thou attemptest at Ubiquity,  
Thus life by thee is reconciled become  
contemporary with privation,  
At least thy hearse could nor convey to urn  
Thy weight blessed Hero under a return:  
And what we thought thy death was but well done  
Preludeous mortification.    

Ode.  
To Caelia Blushing.  

(1.)  
BLess me, it Caelia did abash,  
me to espy,  
that lightning slash  
From so serene a sky.   

(2.)  
I cannot that it was the morn  
blieve so soon:  
cause it was born  
At such a point of noon.   

(3.)  
Though Lilies in thy breast, as well  
smelled too, that grow,  
I could not tell  
They would in Roses blow.   

(4.)  
Nor Caelia could I ever see  
that snow did flush,  
and (modest) free  
From it a native blush;   

(5.)  
Thy bosom often too I might  
a milky say,  
but found not by't,  
it was a Rosy way,   

(6.)  
As the pure taint looked through thy skin.  
me thought a lawn  
had subtly been  
O'er cloth of damask drawn:   

(7.)  
Thou wealthy main to which we fly;  
where pearls are spread  
that scattered lie  
Within their Orient bed.   

(8.)  
Thou dost appear a Roman guest.  
while Roses thrown  
(blushing) invest,  
Thee round with showrs, thine own.   

(9)  
Thy breast besprinkled with a stain,  
that still shed more  
did strait remain  
Throughout bepurpled o'er.   

(10.)  
The there concealed fire,  
did higher grow,  
and warm desire  
Did through thy bosom glow.   

(11.)  
The saucy beauty of the Swan,  
black at the root  
no blushes can  
Through the fair feathers shoot;   

(12.)  
But thine a more unsullied down  
doth overrun,  
the bashful crown,  
To beneath Carnation.    

To Captain D. L. on his book of Fortification, and Geometry.  

AS yet war not arrived at after height  
Was all but merely victory, and flight,  
And the tough soldier (garrisoned in limb)  
Had no retreat of strength to shelter him;  
But open lay to where you would assail,  
Not to be reached through trench, or single mail,  
Until it grew an Art and Pallas wove,  
Her reconciled garlands from one grove,  
That now the Hero to new task assigned  
Not more in body laboured, than in mind;  
While strength and judgement fights, and wit replies  
By counter-stratagem, to batteries,  
And thus (friend) you commence, that well apply  
To the tame practice, the deep theory,  
Teaching us how to measure and how far,  
We move proportionably Regula,  
How the fields drawn in mystic order lie  
Spread with the lines of straight Geometry:  
As the neat Art would into trammel get,  
And for the God of war make a new net.    

Ode.  

(1.)  
PLump father Bacchus oh recline  
with thy fair clusters spread!  
While (Parricides) for love of wine,  
we shave thy purple head.   

(2.)  
Stoop with thy precious locks about!  
to expiate the sin  
We with what useless hung without,  
will warm thy head within.   

(3.)  
If not the triaterique fate  
we will invert, and do,  
What (drunk) did to the Hymnist hate  
in sober rage to you.   

(4.)  
We will mad Thracians scatter thee,  
and then at Heber's shore  
Ourselves the subtle Serpents be,  
that shall lick off the goro.    

To a Lady with black hair.  

THese are the dear retreats of night,  
Wherein the Lover doth delight,  
And hither souls departed come  
Unto their best Elysium,  
Though sure if This these groves had got  
Jove had not had the better lot:  
Thou dost as it doth round thee slow  
In thine own cloud (invelopd ') go,  
At which Alpheus stopped in rape,  
Had let his Arethuse escape,  
And it had though in Juno's place  
(Ixion) mended thine embrace,  
I could believe it night as soon,  
And thou (the Queen of it) the Moon,  
And might the rather think it so,  
Because of the twin stars below,  
But Light doth there such noon display,  
That night but seems to mantle day,  
As properly I might thee name  
Thine own fair picture in a frame,  
As the lose hair disheveled streams,  
Darkness itself doth shed in beams.  
As it late in braids was wound,  
And up in cheaper fillets bound,  
A pretty storm did seem to run  
About the temples of the Sun  
When it unribbond fell again,  
Me thought it broke, did scatter rain,  
While it is curled the circles lie  
In superstitious Ebony,  
Which (fearing torment) none transgress,  
And to be th'ence it is no less:  
Though from all eyes once that way set  
Beams run to the attractive Jet.    

Ode.  
To Lycoris, not to curl her hair.  

(1.)  
SEt not Lycoris, your each tress  
The limit it may not transgress,  
When you untie  
The shady silk,  
Love mantled at your breast doth lie,  
To suck the outside milk.   

(2.)  
Why must the then descending hair  
Back in the banished curls repair,  
That at a touch  
Do gather higher,  
And scarce vouchsafeing you so much  
Coy from your neck retire.   

(3.)  
Let them Lycoris, scattered flow  
N●ts through the milky sea below,  
Till they have caught  
A wealthy fry,  
My each inebriated thought,  
That there doth rippling lie.    

On Mr Gambles composing of Mr Stanleyes Odes.  

SUre when this Lyre was touched, fit words  
Did dance in order to the Chords,  
And lines in harmony thus strung,  
Rise sprightly capering on the tongue;  
We that but read with hoarser throats,  
Do yet disturb them into notes.  
And who repeats (unwitting) sings,  
As echoes break from j●ngl'd strings,  
So Theban walls would shaken soon,  
By Batteries totter into tune.  
And instruments that screwed stand  
Sound, struck by an unwilling-hand;  
So a but peradventure shall  
Awakes the fleeping Harpsycall.  
Which since the Artist fing'red last,  
Lay lulled in its own music (fast)  
Here's no disordering the falr mind,  
Unruly matter up to bind;  
Until the too much forced Zones  
(Snapped) knot in short Elisions.  
No crowded words in huddle meet,  
That shuffle on uneven feet,  
And struggling labour in their pains,  
As if the verse were paced in chains.  
Their very syllables as clear,  
Passed (as their air's now) through the care▪  
And he that made the essence whole,  
Cannot distinguish which is soul.  
Where each informs the other they,  
So mix in their unbodyed play.    

The Phoenix.  

FAr-east a grove sea-girt is read,  
Whence the young day doth blushing spread,  
That first the early hoofs sustains,  
When the wet Car (emergent) raines.  
A happy shore, the blessed retreat  
Where health takes up her wholesome seat,  
No cloud above its volume hurls,  
And there the weighty sleece uncurles,  
But an irriguous fountain laves,  
It's vernal face with monthly waves;  
That in the middle placed dwells,  
And with eternal bubbling swells;  
‛ ●ill it o're-look the bank, and Rove,  
In a wild freedom through the Grove.  
Here keeps that bird (too blest'y free)  
Immortal in mortality.  
That lives a pedigree, and dies,  
At once some whole posterities,  
Who makes time past, and future, one  
In reconciled complexion;  
Who waits upon the parent Sun,  
And doth a trend his motion.  
When the new morn doth chase the night,  
With Oriental-damasque light;  
He thrice doth taste the spring, and Rath,  
Thrice in the sacred fount doth bathe.  
Then mounts a trees removed space,  
That (one) beholdeth the whole place;  
And thence with an awaking lay,  
Doth erenade the rising day;  
When Sols now beams do loser flow,  
And noon about his shoulders throw:  
Thrice doth he clap his wings applause,  
And thrice adoring's Ray doth pause.  
A bird peer to the gods, that wears,  
Time out with his Returning years,  
Chief of the woods, day's priest, alone  
Privy to secrets of the Sun,  
Nature's best Chronicle, time spelled,  
Life and Death monasyllabled.  
Not cloyed with gross repast, but free  
To more immortal luxury;  
Whom the Suns purely melting heat,  
Doth sat with a delicious sweat;  
Who quaffs in-●●riated too,  
The liquid air's el●xir'd dew:  
And feeds with divine Relish on,  
Rarified exhalation.  
A feathered diadem is spread  
In golden Rays about his head,  
Whose deeper flames, and beams from them,  
Shine through his beaks pellucid gem:  
That breaks the dusky clouds of night,  
And opes them with serener light;  
Plush that enrobes the back doth lie,  
Distinguished with the Crocean die:  
That from above the train doth wreath,  
Of purple, tipped with gold beneath.  
High on the wings do Rubies glow,  
On rows of Emeralds below.  
Bright Sky the mail doth (cloudy) deck  
With the fantastic Pigeons Neck;  
And the the thigh-down is stained o'er,  
With poison of the lyrian gore:  
His legs in golden scalcs are bound,  
And feet with blushing Roses ●rown'd.  
A bird that doth not off spring need,  
No heir, but doth itself succeed;  
Beginning where he doth conclude.  
In excellent vicissitude.  
Life's thoroughfare, whose soul when gone  
Returns by transmigration.  
Who yields to fate, but to overcome  
In a reviving martyrdom;  
Invading death to make him so,  
Against his own black charter go,  
For with a thousand years now penned  
Up in a closer Tenement.  
And in a dear enlarging care,  
About to leave it to Repair.  
He takes flight to this wo●ld of fate,  
Leaving his Isle too fortunate:  
And to that Syria doth fan,  
From him that's called Phoenicean.  
Vhere far remote he doth invade  
A saered solitude of shade;  
And on a Cedars utmost spire,  
Builds his or either nest or Pire.:  
Making his Aromatic bed,  
Of all the spicery doth shed.  
O'er the Panchaian groves, and Rise  
Glowing Sabaeas' treasuries.  
And adds to these in wealthy sums,  
The Indian, and the Persic gums;  
Here twigs of frankincense, upon  
The ruddy bark of Cinnamon:  
There Balsamum, new Odour frees,  
Mixed with hot wood of Aloes.  
Chafed with dried Casia within,  
And the warm scent of Benjamin:  
With delicate tears of Amber wet,  
And drops that precious Myrrah sweat;  
Crowned with what all their breathing bears  
The tops that the young Nard first wears;  
While in the midst he placed doth shed,  
The species round about him spread;  
And moist with gums dispersed lies,  
To die in his solemnities.  
The Sun thus seeing him from far,  
Making a stand, reins in his car;  
And thus bespeaks his charge, O thou  
Whose only age deceaseth now,  
To thine own funerall's the heir,  
That diest in haste to thy Repair,  
Who beyond thy death (alive)  
Dost thy triumphed fate survive,  
Offa (thy but worn now body) throw,  
And in diviner figure go,  
This said, he (scattered) doth display  
His bright locks, and shakes of a Ray,  
That strikes with vital flame the urn,  
And doth the willing Martyr burn:  
Who as the reeking heat consumes,  
Doth give his soul up in perfumes;  
While yet it flames doth Nature lie,  
Hushed in a pious agony;  
And labours with religious care,  
Of losing its eternal heir;  
And Aeolus with caverns binds,  
The backs of the unruly winds:  
In fear they should with lungs less pure,  
Mix with the airs clean temperature,  
Or spread clouds that might take away,  
The Suns regenerating ray:  
Thus in his solemn fires he dies,  
And in his quiet ashes lies.  
When few dividing hours got in  
To put a difference between;  
Whose space doth intermediate lie  
To either lifes-vicinity:  
But a new warmth of vigour (shed) '  
Doth (through the limbs dispersed) spread;  
And a reviving blood doth flow,  
And in the veins (new channeled) go.  
The undisturbed dust is stirred,  
And ashes fledged new plume the bird;  
Until the Phoenix in a trice  
Starts from his faithful bed of spice;  
And who but late departed Sire,  
Doth rise the offspring of his Pyre.  
Then strait his bust in his new state  
Devoutly doth conglomerate,  
And (thick) with unguents doth enrobe,  
The to be consecrated globe,  
Bearing the sacred burden o'er▪  
To the removed Pharian shore.  
Birds that his hushed attendants fly  
(Innumerable) cloud the sky  
Yet none of all dare: thrust before,  
But far behind his flight adore:  
Not one makes war, religious awe,  
Creates one common peaceful Law.  
In Egypt a tall Fane doth rise,  
Famous in the blessed sacrifice;  
There Altared still his parent Urn,  
He to the Sun doth (grateful) burn;  
Whence precious fogs obscure the flore  
With their inconsed breathe o'er,  
Then mists that to the Nile are broke,  
Do from his seven Channels smoke;  
And strongly too exhaling come,  
As far as to Pelusium:  
Making the air more health assume,  
From the incorporate perfume.  
Thrice happy bird that liv'st to see  
Behind thee thy mortality,  
That art so not concerned in fate  
Thine age dies from thee separate:  
At least your funeralls so rife,  
You but undress yourself of life;  
And put again your body on,  
By clothing Resurrection;  
Thy glorious links of days are mixed,  
with a Momento still betwixt:  
Thou life's whole story dost comprise  
And all thy death's are period-wise.    

Lycoris weeping.  

WHen youthful April half his progress gone,  
Had helped the gaudy springs embroidries on,  
On the soft fragrance of a flowery bed,  
I saw the fair length of Lycoris spread;  
Stifling their own, but such new sweets she lent,  
As she but lay there their deputed scent:  
Or as if heaven thus humbled to the ears  
Of the attentive earth would whisper tears;  
For she was weeping-ripe, the drops she shed,  
(So brightly soft) were Crystal mellowed.  
When as each fell, officious in its birth,  
Some new flower starts, and latches it from earth;  
Guerdoned with the rich gem, which there doth lie,  
Loves precious globular Artillery:  
Till when the bowed stalk lets it roll on,  
I feared it grased to execution:  
But emissary beams so pointed run,  
They strung them up by exhalation.  
Till (where the Rays concentre drawn) they pass,  
Into one piece of liquid burning glass;  
Before those eyes, illustrious then as are  
The gilded jellies of a falling star;  
So not to be concealed, darting out beams,  
They Native fireworks burned in their streams.  
And now the earth, reeking with warmer showers,  
Fresh odours rise up from the chafed flowers.  
The happy dew a shorter progress seeks  
Doth wet the damask Rose leaves of her cheeks;  
And some to wash the Lilies idly ran,  
Plea to those laved the Aeth opian;  
That in their either beds distinctly lie,  
And are both warmed and watered by her eye:  
Thence on haet lips the happy currents flow.  
Where the drowned Coral trembles soft below.  
Now to her snowy bosom they are gone,  
And seem to trickle with addition:  
When I rethed back to her eyes to see,  
If this were wanton prodigality;  
But in those fair lights by some smarting wounds,  
Their griefs seemed carved by their own Diamonds.    

One Enamoured on a Black-moor.  

What a strange love doth me invade,  
Whose fires must cool in that dark shade  
Round her such solitudes are seen  
As she were all Retired within,  
And did in hushed up silence lie  
(Though single) a Conspiracy.  
How did my passion find her out,  
That is with Curtains drawn about?  
(And though her eyes do cem'nell keep)  
She is all over else asleep;  
And I expect when she my sight,  
Should strike with universal light.  
A scarce seen thing she glides, were gone  
If touched, an Apparition,  
To immortality that dipped  
Hath newly from her Lethe slipped.  
No feature here we can define  
By this, or that illustrious line,  
Such curiosity is not  
Found in an undistinguished blot:  
This beauty puts us from the part  
We all have tamely got by hart,  
Of Roses here there Lilies grow,  
Of Sapphire, Coral, Hills of snow:  
These Rivulets are all engrossed,  
And all in one Black Ocean lost  
The treasures locked up we would get  
Within the Ebon Cabinet;  
And he that Ravishes must pick  
Open the acquaint Italian Trick.  
She is her own clese mourning in,  
(At Nature's charge) a Cypress skin.  
Our common Parent else to blot,  
A moal on the white mould, a spot.  
Dropped it with her own Statute Ink,  
And the new tempered Clay did sink:  
So the fair figure doth remain,  
Her ever since Record in grain.  
Ix●on's sometime armful might  
Swell with, perhaps, a fleece more bright;  
But she as soft might be allowed,  
The goddesse's deputed cl●ud;  
Though sure from our distinct embrace,  
Centauris had been a dapple Race.  
Thou precious Night-piece that art made,  
More valuablè in thy shade.  
From which when the weak tribe departed,  
The skilful Master hugs his art.  
Thou dost not to our dear surprise  
Thine own white marble statue rise;  
And yet no more a price dost lack,  
Clean built up of the polished black.  
Thou like no Pelops haste supply  
Of an one joint by Ivory.  
But art miraculously set,  
Together totally with Jet.  
Nor can I count that bosom cheap,  
That lies not a cold winter heap:  
Where pillow yet I warmly can,  
In down of the contrary swan;  
Let who will wild enjoyments dream,  
And tipple from another stream;  
Since he with equal pleasure dwells,  
That lies at these dark fontinells:  
These fair, Round, spheres contemplate on  
So just in the proportion.  
And in the lines of either breast,  
Find the rich countries of the East.  
They not as in the milky hue,  
Are broke into Raw streaks of blue.  
But have in the more-lived stains,  
The very Violets of Veins,  
They rise the Double-headed Hill,  
Whose tops shade one another still;  
Between them lies that spicy Nest,  
That the last Phoenix scorched, and blest.  
What falls from her is rather made  
Her own (just) picture, than her shade:  
And where she walks the Sun doth hold  
Her portrayed in a frame of gold.    

A black Nymph scorning a fair Boy Courting her.  Nymph. 
FOnd Boy, thy vain pursuit give o'er,  
Since I thy shadow go before.  Boy. 
●h fly not Nymph! we may pursue,  
●nd shadows overtake like you.  Nymph. 
●pass howe'er in course away  
●he night to thy succeeding day.  Boy. 
〈◊〉 night thou art, oh! be not gone,  
●ill thou have stood a triple one:  
●hough Jove I fear, would then invade,  
●ot his Alcmene, but the shade.  Nymph. 
●o should the thunderer embrace,  
〈◊〉 cloud in his own goddess place.  Boy. 
●o let us but commixed a while,  
distinguish one another's foil;  
●hat to advantage we may tell,  
●ow either beauty doth excel.  Nymph. 
●need not thy betraying light,  
●o show how far I am from white;  
●nd to the piece that nature made,  
●dare be no improving shade.  Boy. 
●●en my dark Angel, I can charm  
●hee (circled) in mine either arm.  Nymph. 
●ee! from thy slight embraces broke  
●ecure I vanish in my smoke.   

On. Mr. J.H. His Translation of Hierocles 's Comment on the golden verses of Pythagoras.  

WHat strange Idolaters are these! that knew  
So well to write the things we ought to do!  
Were they acquainted with the Laws (too) Mists  
Though Sibyl's sometimes were Evangelists!  
These are more than man's dictates! is it fit  
To think they likewise had their ho●y writ?  
So long they had not in a tongue unknown,  
Lain hid, but in a Reverence to their own:  
And the profane half-lettered durst not trace  
With their unhalowed feet, the holy place.  
Strait I my lose perusal did correct,  
And at each pious clause I (shuddered) checked:  
Oft I drew back, as I had thrust upon,  
Awful (at unawares) Religion.  
What may our best devotions transfer  
Title on thee? sacred interpreter!  
YVho dost the Authors sense, so his, Relate  
That souls did, as he taught us transmigrate;  
And we that read do hear, but from the Greek  
A smooth expounding English Echo speak,  
In known (though) words the lines (how e'er) borough forth.  
Do (big) yet labour in their proper worth.  
And not at mercy of deluded eyes,  
Are still laid up in their own Mysteries:  
But thou (still blestly prodigal) dost please  
To spread before us thy Hierocles.  
Where we the secrets of each line espy,  
Discovered in a fair Anatomy.  
Of what a treasure thou poslest didst die  
Who couldst bequeath this public legacy;  
In which we all are richer, thou dost give,  
(In thy providing fate) us rules to live;  
And that so slippery soul at last now has  
Arrived hither of Pythagoras,  
After our Saviour's death that we may well,  
Consult, there is yet left an Oracle.    

A Blush.  

MAdam your guilt is too well understood  
Writ in, that solemn evidence, your blood;  
And in this crimson flood under pretence  
Of bashfulness you drown white innocence.  
That blush if you originally seek,  
Was our first parent's from the Apples cheek:  
Then blush, that e'er you blushed, I'll think't no stain,  
So straight for anger you look pale again.    

Tabularium.  

HOc qualecunque (viator) legis inscriptum  
Scias.  
Sanctisissimae Thomae Whit●aei Memoriae  
Esse consecratum.  
Non tam è Civitate Londinensi, quam è Dei Civitate,  
Civis optimi.  
Heù quàm exiguum,  
(Post & illius quamplurima  
Nec exigua tamen charitatis officia)  
Munusculum Charitatis!   

HEre (Reader) lies a precious trust  
Of good, and charitable dust.  
This casket heaven's choice hath been,  
To treasure it's dispenser in.  
One who its blessings did convey  
(Through his but Mediate hands) away:  
His Alms were till want craved no more,  
And all his stock (was) what was o'er,  
His board stood free to entertain  
Guests, though they could not bid again,  
His Neighbours knew him not by strife  
And he did use not injure life;  
And though he could distinguish well,  
He was with care conformable:  
So for some one amiss thing done,  
Not quarrelled with Religion.  
Now (Reader) go, and taught to live,  
Him back (in his example) give.    

ODE.  
The Rosary.  

(1.)  
THe early Morn (as yet undressed)  
Drew the red Curtains of the East;  
And did betray the blushing state,  
In which she lay, she thought too late:  
Then starts, and Round doth (scattered) hurl,  
Soft, Oriental showers of Pearl.   

(2.)  
When my Lycoris to partake;  
Delights that were the first awake;  
Amid the walks of Roses went,  
To catch the yet unravished scent;  
Or (when the sweet souls were bequeathed)  
That new ones might from her be breathed,   

(3.)  
The big round dew the Plants that decks,  
And loads their with-pride-humbled necks,  
Did rather bend them now to greet  
With their best Ornaments her feet;  
And that whose duty was not near,  
Howe'er did fall into a tear.   

(4.)  
It was the moment when each Rose  
(About the fair hair to disclose)  
As yet alone in the young dress,  
Had slacked the green-silk Hayr-laces:  
And in the new yet freedom lay  
Close, unacquainted to display.   

(5.)  
Here climbed the Obelisque entire  
In a throughout proportioned spire,  
There of like figure one Below,  
Above did to new beauty blow:  
A third the air's each hiss receives,  
Now fully numbered with its leaves,   

(6.)  
The Rosary the East had spread,  
Now Rosey with a double red,  
Or equally the flowrs the Morn.  
And that the Roses did adorn:  
That you could not now (whether) know  
●t dawn'd above, or dawn'd below.   

(7.)  
The Rose and Morning do comply  
In one delicious harmony,  
One is their dew, one is their dress,  
And Venus their one Patroness;  
One were perhaps their scent if proved,  
But this breaths nigh, and that removed.   

(8.)  
Lycoris now had seen the bud,  
First in the green, and nfant hood,  
Then in the childhood gay, then lie  
A fair dishevelled treasury:  
Whose beauty must with day conclude,  
And fall her dear similitude.    

ODE.  
For Winter.  

(1.)  
COuld the dead season but partake  
The lusty spirit of the Vine,  
His Chains of Ice he off would shake,  
And find a liberty in wine:  
And his cramp-bound-up sinews fit  
For limber measures, would unknit.   

(2.)  
Wine with an active heat would warm,  
and creep through every withered vein,  
The youth-alone-retriving charm,  
To make them plump and rise again.  
And chafed with wine his head would glow,  
And thaw his periwigs of snow.   

(3.)  
Boy let the Health then quick be tossed,  
That we may take the liquor up  
 the Anticipating frost,  
Have Alchymised it in the cup:  
And when we thus well lined have been,  
We need no furs but those within.    

ODE.  

(1.)  
THe earth first drinks the scattered rain  
Thence sent to every plant,  
As fast they tipple it again,  
And fill the veins that want.   

(2.)  
The Sea doth drink the condensed air,  
The Sun doth drink the main,  
The Moon from him drinks to repair,  
And fill her horns again.   

(3.)  
Then let us not alone stand out  
But with our goblets crowned,  
(Since Nature puts the health about,  
Let us maintain the round.    

ODE.  

(1.)  
HOw Cloris now I pity thee?  
Whom I did late adore,  
And I am less thine enemy,  
Though I cannot allow  
To love thee now,  
At half the rate before.   

(2.)  
Thine eyes have lost their influence,  
(not husbanding their Ray)  
While like the Sun thou wouldst dispense  
An undistinguished shine,  
Without design  
Lost as it did display.   

(3.)  
When hadst thou shed the golden streams  
Alone but upon me,  
The double quiver of thy beams,  
Had had in either eye  
Artillery,  
Now to have pleasured thee.    

A Frost.  

IS nature tranced: we cannot then  
By water fetch her back again,  
Our babes are Jews, or Pagan, Ice  
Not Christen's or doth circumcise;  
The watermens their Dial miss  
That overspread with Crystal is,  
And tides that underneath it pass  
But turn within the hourglass:  
Mahomet's Politian able  
To make the dry land navigable.  
To render Rivers so might deal  
Here by no less a miracle;  
We are (like Midas) cursed, and think  
To quench our thirst with goblet drink,  
But want his after-prviledge,  
His Tagus now is solid wedge,  
And Swans above their Dirges breath,  
That are cut of the half beneath.  
The wretched Hellespont doth fear  
That it again must fetters wear,  
And Islands with no bounds content  
Are with the Sea a continent.  
Then view the shore and understand  
There's nothing lost, though writ in sand,  
And the Records as deep remain,  
As they would not be thawed again:  
Those Grandam-bones, Deucalion posed,  
He had not compassed now (disclosed;)  
And she that did the riddle tell,  
Had thought the task the Oracle:  
The earth now close-compacted all,  
Is but an entire Mineral.  
Immortal Bays that knew no fall,  
Are silvered to their funeral;  
And Poets wreathed with such as these,  
Writ their own Metamorphoses.    

Anni Tempestates Ovidianae.  

VErque novum stabat cinctum florente Coronâ  
Stabat Nuda Aestas, & Spicea serta gerebat;  
Stabat & Autumnas calcatis sordidus Wis,  
Et glacialis Hiems, canos Hirsuta capillos.    


The year.  
TIme that pursues itself so far,  
It throws itself quite Circular,  
And then as it had wound in vain.  
It springs in length to curl again.  
A twelve-moneth-aged Phoenix dies,  
To hatch young immortalities;  
And covetous of such repair,  
Departs its own apparent heir:  
Invading fate on purpose for  
To be its own executor,   

Spring.  
NOw breezes the soft wind doth bring  
To hush asleep the infant Spring,  
Which simpering in the Cradle lies,  
So tender that but nipped, it dies.  
While a dispencing warmth doth dress,  
With care the first yet nakedness:  
The Sun puts on his beams by Ice,  
And melts the mirror at his Rise;  
Which doth unable under lie,  
And waters weakened by his eye:  
Till with beblubbered cheek it flows,  
And (with the forehead knit up) goes.  
The mountains warmly clad and trees  
Do careless shed the silver fleece,  
And wakened earth above doth peep,  
The sheet that hide her o'er, asleep.  
Where long repose and balmy heat,  
Had laid her in a breathing sweat.  
And now the soul straitlaced of growth  
Sruggles; and for enlargement throw'th;  
And in the early buds that sprout,  
Shoots an impulsive tenant out.  
Birds on the callow sprigs that stir,  
(Close) shudder in the native fur;  
And Rath forerunners I'll appear,  
In the bleak morning of the year:  
The fragrant Rain the poured earth swills,  
Lukewarm from heaven's Alymbeck spills.  
Now the first blush gins to break,  
And Roses kindly stain the cheek  
Of the young Spring, that by the Sun,  
Is vexed into Vermilion:  
Who chafes her reeking in her spice,  
Begetting his own sacrifice;  
Till earth returning thanks in place,  
(Supinely) breathes in heaven's face:  
A breath that through the concave meets,  
And makes ●t but one box of sweets;  
As air were gone and voidness barred,  
By the soft lungs of bruised Nard.  
Thus passing on doth disappear,  
The first gay Pageant of the year.   

Summer.  
NOw all the Damask pride is shed,  
To yellow changed, or swarthy red,  
Such as doth settled swell to sleek,  
The nigh sleep-strangled Poppies cheek,  
A sportive wind with whistling note,  
Doth early tune the standing Oat,  
And all the fields are gilded about;  
As the rich-boweled earth burst out,  
Each gale doth o'er them gliding sweep,  
(Bearing along) spreads the bright heap,  
And shows it burnished to the Sun,  
Dazzled in Repercussion.  
Where Ceres thus trumphant rides,  
New grain along the furrows slides,  
As her rich Car did scatter streams,  
And the dark earth dawn'd in the beams.  
Until a more illustrious day's,  
Shot in innumerable Rays;  
That from obscurer Caverns borne,  
Irradiate a Noon of Corn:  
Lustre alone doth not decline,  
But starts in vegetable shine.  
And equally the air doth glow  
Warmed from above, and from below.  
A lazi● hear doth from them reek,  
Distils the Roses of each cheek.  
Until the vexed blush is pined,  
And weathered paseness left behind;  
Each Virgin's bosom seems to flow,  
In the then newly melted snow,  
The votary no longer nice,  
Thaws in her superstitious ice;  
Such flames now from the dog are thrown,  
His shaking sides pant in their own.  
Afflicted Valleys crannyed lie,  
And let into deep hell the sky.  
Our common mother Restless pines,  
And (hid) shrinks from her molten mines:  
The thunderer seems to dart upon  
Some new, but rasher Phaeton.  
The rifled treasury Conveyed,  
From off the field in bank is laid.  
And the close Granaries are bright,  
In sheaves that chase away their night:  
Until they all Refulgent may,  
Resemble those that stable day.  
Thus doth the jolly pomp begin,  
Outworn to hid itself within.   

Autumn.  
ANd fruit-oppressed Autumn now,  
Beneath his wealthy load doth bow,  
While from his labour-fainting sides  
A precious sweat of Amber slides,  
Apples that round his temples play,  
(Like Tantalus his) dance away;  
When he his laden head doth move,  
The stubborn branches lift above;  
The course-clad Russeting, the green,  
Harvie, and purple-robed Queen:  
As all were beautifully set,  
But gems within his Coronet,  
That sparkle his large front upon  
Like a shot constellation;  
As Ariadne had let fall  
Her stars to crown the god withal.  
From fruits a Ruddiness doth flow,  
And all the trees with scarlet glow;  
So the bold Sun with frequent glance  
Hath looked them out of Countenance.  
The parched earth doth cheaper show,  
Lies from her mantle stripped below;  
As if attractive heat thus high,  
Had drawn up her embroidery,  
And now the mellow fruits not want,  
The price of an Hesperian plant:  
That valued cannot these outdo,  
Whose very leaves are golden too.  
The full aged grape deep coloured o'er,  
As it now struggled in its gore,  
Yet with a thirst insatiate dreines,  
From its luxuriating veins:  
Till with its own exhausted wines,  
(Heavy) the feeble neck declines;  
And now the blood-swolne Deity  
Grown black, in his rich pleurisy,  
Bleeds in the press, until he fre's,  
A luscious vintage of Disease.   

Winter.  
OLd Winter now himself bestirs,  
And gathers up within his furs.  
The trees aside their garments throw,  
To shift themselves in shirts of snow:  
And the last beams the Sun doth fling,  
Washed in his moist robes (slaking) sing;  
Which after him (beset) doth trail,  
With Diamond-Ice, and ropes of Hail,  
Whose ground not of an humbler cost,  
(A glittering cloth of silver frost)  
The strutting plate and stones uphold  
Stiff, and inestimably, cold,  
That (bustling) out of lankness throws,  
And but in-sinuous Volume flows,  
Where he the stubborn train doth stem  
Earth (crusty) crumbles at the hem;  
And as it sweeps o'er loser flakes  
It bears along dislodged cakes,  
The tenant-birds with Summer gone,  
Her packed up wardrobe wait upon,  
That paid a Rent to every tree  
From their melodious treasury,  
And snow succeeds, that seems a Down  
They left in satisfaction, flown,  
And now appears our silent sky  
An undiscovered volary,  
The softer birds not venture on  
(Inhabitable Region,)  
And Fowl, but wing't of hoarser throats  
(Natives) not civilised to notes,  
Unlike those, mounting the young sky,  
That souled the vault with harmony,  
And swelled with Rhapsodies our ears  
Like some subordinated spheres.  
Coldness doth so the Globe possess  
It fills in abstract emptiness,  
And hath itself so far outwent,  
It ceases to be accident.  
Such frozen blood our veins doth fill  
The branchesspred distinctly i'll,  
And Isickles proportion'dly  
Proabed, through their whole Anatomy,  
The blue lines proper yet are laid,  
On the now marble-bosomed maid;  
And we are candied o'er by this  
Half in our metamorphosis,  
The bark let's in the weather through't,  
And growth keeps warm itself at root.  
Rivers that chide upon their shelves  
Caught, are made fetters for themselves:  
Where (deep) they pearl a cream doth fling  
In cold excess their covering;  
Till Spring with beams that suppling rain,  
Cha●'d Nature brings to life again.   

The Corollary.  
WEak counterfeits thus Winter wears  
The Spring resolves to their first tears,  
And ferching short her breath of flowers  
She sinks in the hot Summer hours,  
Faint Summer dulled with Autumn nigh  
Indulges her own Lethargy,  
And Autumn Winter cools upon  
Struck in's Refrigeration.  
Thus they in restless motion reel  
Spokes of the years perpetual wheel.   
FINIS.    

POEMS DIVINE. BY ELDRED REVET Gent.  
Qui recto Coelum vultu petis, Exerisque Frontem,  
In sublime fer as animum quoque.  Boëth. de con. Ph. li. 5. 
LONDON, Anno Dom. 1657.   

POEMS DIVINE. John, lying on the Bosom of our Saviour.  


(1.)  
SEE where the loved Disciple lies,  
Pillowed with softness of the skies:  
From above the while there streams,  
A glorious Canopy of Beams.   

(2.)  
When his eyes would up-ward peep,  
The are with lustre laid asleep;  
His Head inebriated gays  
On's Bolster feathered with Rays.   

(3.)  
Such splendours from the pillow power  
The Hair is all a Golden shower;  
As if the ravished Thoughts, now not  
To be concealed, themselves thus shot.   

(4.)  
See I how he passes not undone  
Like Enoch in's Translation  
To a Bosom that bedarks  
That of the blessed Patriarches.    

Hesekiah his Recovery.  

THe Sun goes backward, Judah's King hath ease,  
His Life's the surer now by ten Degrees.    

The Aethiopian Baptised.  

WHat Stars are those of Orient light  
Tremble on the Brow of Night?  
And their daring Beams display  
Rival Glories with the day?  
That baffle Time, outstare the Sun,  
Scorn to wait Succession;  
No, 'tis an Aethiop dived these streams  
Rich in spoils of Ransacked Gem's;  
New-risen from the Crystal Bed,  
All in Pearls aparalled;  
What of Night's about his skin,  
Skreens, like that too, Day within.    

Christ washing Judas his feet.  

(1.)  
WAter the Virtue of those hands  
A Crystal Heaven yet sustains;  
Beauty on Judas feet disbands  
Might wash an Aethiop as it reins.   

(2.)  
A Virgin spring so have I seen  
Through Marble Channels too conveyed  
After the Pride it wantoness in,  
To filth-corrupted sinks betrayed   

Low as his cursed feet, (Lord) as thou bend'st  
Me thinks to Hell thou e'er thy death descend'st.    

A penitential Hymn.  

IF I be white within  
Lord! 'tis but wi●h the Leprosy of sin,  
The Fur a deep stainded soarlet blushes o'er  
The Robe that Pilate wore:  
Nor did he me outdo,  
That Coucifie thee too.  
Lord! Let thy Rosy torrent flow,  
Whose richer tincture may  
Pale into snow  
The courser die and kindly beauty lay:  
But first, Oh! squeeze mine eyes, till all appears  
For thy pure blood a Channel sponged with tears,  
Oh let the drops distil  
Till they have drowned this little World of ill.    

Marry her ointment.  

ANointed God who was before,  
Mary anoints her Saviour;  
Her Alabaster-box doth shed  
The liquid Narde on's sacred head;  
Where when it trickles down upon't  
It sweats upon his Marble Front;  
Ore's hair it spreads the unctuous flood,  
To armed 'gainst after-rain of blood;  
As all those little channels power  
It sem's dispersed in a shower;  
What falls on his Necks whiter skin  
Is Alabastered up again;  
The odorous breath, though with perfume  
Not stifled there doth fill the room:  
From this more glorious Phoenix fly  
Such spices that prepares to die;  
She then at's feet herself doth throw  
Descending yet to Heaven, so;  
When from her eyes she scatters streams  
To pay the custom of those gems:  
The sparks a richer lustre meet  
Set on his white enamelled feet,  
Which (trembling yet) the torrent bears  
In one continued Flood of tears.  
Her hair now from her bended head  
A Towel falls disheveled;  
That's o'er those silver columns row'ld  
Like a well-falling Curl of Gold:  
Those Rays upon his feet thus run  
Dry them by Exhalation:  
And drink a Richer dew from thence,  
Then her well-powred forth expense.    

Judgement  

LOrd! at Convulsions Earth shall shake  
Our little parcels quake;  
When the Glory of thy Ray  
Shall chase the Heavins away:  
And put the Crowded Stars to rout  
Which at that day shall drop Thrust out;  
Then in a fiery Deluge power  
That earth must, and her filth devour,  
And from their place  
Shot Bilyard o'er its sinful face;  
And the fair Vellum of the skies too roll  
Snatched into scroll:  
The Mountains than should o'er us turn,  
Will Aerna's bourn,  
And the splinted Rocks then fly  
Counter-Thunder with the sky,  
Now the long sleep shall Death forsake,  
Graves yawning wake,  
Then Mercy Lord! we sink beneath thine Ire,  
Nor dare we stand this Trial of thy Fire.   

Confession by ingenious Penitence,  
And holds  hells dark jaws, that we below  
May see what Sea's of liquid Fire there flow,  
That curl in Billow's still, and roar in night  
Never extinguished, ever without Light.  
This we unshuderd hear  
Though they are brought so near  
The Flames Flash to our Ear,  
Then let him throw  
Us Rowlled in Beds of Snow,  
And manacle us thrice:  
In Chains of Ice,  
The Blood ne'er Thrils,  
Nor one Hot-Lust-inflamed vein less fills.  
We hear of Snakes, Asps, and put o'er their sting,  
Eat Poison too like Nightingales and sing:  
But Lord! in Floods of Tears here wash my soul  
Lest there I roll.    

ZACHEUS called.  

SEE! how the witty dwarf hath cheated Them  
Shot up in Stratagem;  
That run tumultuously and Throng  
Themselves from that for which they long  
With what industrious strife  
He now assails  
The Tree of Life?  
And beats the rough bark with his Nails?  
His labour here finds a Repair,  
His Prospect's fair.  
But now thou must again descend, for thee.  
Was there no way to Heaven, but o'er this Tree?  
It was the most direct; Thou wert not out  
Zacheus seeking thy blessed home about.    

CAESAR'S Tribute.  

IF th' Image speak, the Owner here's the Odd's,  
The Silvers Caesar's Coin, and Caesar's Gods.    

Christ and his Disciples in the Storm.  

(1.)  
HOw proudly curled the Billows come  
Powdered with Foam,  
Sea-Courtiers, that like Samson wear,  
Strength in their hair:  
Winds their Imperious dressers fling  
Their fettered Pride in every Ring.   

(2.)  
But whither roll these Giant son's  
Of waves on their own Pelions?  
A God invading Element,  
By Precedent  
The Monsters in her Womb did move,  
Are spawned above.   

(3.)  
Now, now they lash the Vessels sides,  
Where Heaven rides  
To drived on Rocks, secure in one  
Salvation.  
When now a bubbles arched ascent  
Seems vaulted o'er its Monument   

(4.)  
Great Neptune in't! what need pale fear,  
The wat'ry Cav'es a shelter here,  
And in officious fowls would swim  
Pillow to him;  
Or as he sleeps, but over-ly  
His Canopy.   

(5.)  
Each crisped fleece the Former rides  
That from it slides  
Ambitious then to get before  
Throws itself ●'re,  
When a tenth wave insulting lieth,  
And falls to heavens Highpriest a Tithe:   

(6.)  
Him, now's Disciples wake, who blames  
Their coward faith first, and then tames  
The winds, that at his word retire,  
And hush their ire:  
The Billows their rude Essence too  
Becalmed, undo.    

Death.  

DEath, thou wert once a fearful thing,  
And hadst a sting;  
That now thou canst not use, or if thou do  
Thou sheddest a Curing Honey too,  
We sometimes passed thee black enough in sin  
To places where we scorched again:  
Thy dark and narrow Entry is  
Now but the Thorough-fair of bliss.  
And we upon thee look as we  
Would on thy fairly limned Anatomy.    

Our Saviour cradled in the Manger.  

SEE! where the King of Glory lies  
Inned after passage from the Skies!  
Having left his sparkling Throne  
To sparkle in a viler one!  
What linnen-Clouds his head, o'errun,  
As they could Biggin up the Sun!  
With rowles his limbs are swathed about,  
To keep the Rays from breaking out;  
But lustre un-controiled so streams,  
He's double-mantled in his beams;  
His Eyes the humble Roof (too) line  
Gild with the riches of their shine;  
As if Heaven did here retire,  
With all its Regiments of fire.  
To baffle in a glorious dress  
The pride of Herod's Palaces;  
This Western-stable that outvies  
Where the sun's Car un-harnassed lies.    

Adam, hiding himself among the Trees of the Garden.  

WHy dost thou Adam, hid thee over and over?  
That were't in Fig-leaves hid too much before:  
That Innocence thou with the Fruit didst less?  
Canst thou recover in the Leaves and Trees?  
That Dress doth round thee treacherously fall  
Thy sin sticks close (poor Adam) that is all.    

Jesus wept.  

(1.)  
WHat mean those weaker streams  
Shed from such Eagle-eyes?  
What bright Sun Duels beams  
And their Glory thus outvies?  
Such lustres are about them thrown.  
They surely water in their own.   

(2.)  
This vaster Ball  
Who made and wrought  
And grasps it all  
Composed of nought.  
The fullness of all joy now too  
Creates new little Worlds of woe.   

(3.)  
Or He, the first of Days,  
Doth now ante-date the last;  
These are not tears, but Rays,  
Stars thus shot those Heaven's cast:  
No marvel they were shed upon  
Thy Laz'rus resurrection.    

The Water made Wine.  

A Fire-got Bacchus, Ethnics only known,  
But here he is begot of Water too.    

Our Saviour scourged, clothed with Purple, Crowned with Thorns.  

(1)  
JEsu! Can those scourges eurle  
Round thee their enamoured knots?  
And their sad Enamel hurl  
Kisses like Iskariots?   

(2.)  
Once thou taught'st thou were the way  
Then thou wert a Milky one;  
Now a Cream of blood they lay  
Through a red-Sea we must on.   

(3.)  
Why this robe about thee thrown?  
Canst more Princely (Lord!) be dressed?  
Richer Purples of thine own  
Too too costly line this vest.   

(4.)  
That sharp Crown that by thee worn's  
Sadly Emblems there not do  
Lilies only among thorns,  
Lilies grow and Rose, too.   

(5.)  
He the Spicknards' waste could plead  
Thought not (Lord!) of this expense;  
Every moist hair on thy head  
Drops the world a ransom thence.   

(6.)  
Precious coral-Beads! that run  
Strung upon the silken thread  
Till they wanting fastening on,  
Scatterded fall by new ones shed.    

Lasarus raised by our Saviour after four days lying in the Grave.  

DEath! alas where is thy sting?  
Thy mortal once invenoming?  
Thy weakness see  
Puling Anatomy.  
That o'er this vanquished corpse didst roll  
And bredth'dst upon  
It thy short fetched corruption?  
Till thy dull weight squeezed out the vexed foul?  
Now that turneth thee beneath,  
With a new recruit of breath,  
And purges out thy noisome Airs  
By smells with which the soul from Heaven repairs;  
Leaving the Original to see  
The copy it left with Mortality,  
And with an antedated bliss comes on  
To this Preludious resurrection.    

Jesus eating, John fasting.  

HOw strangely are these perverse Jew's diseased!  
Nor full, nor fasting pleased.    

To the Angel bringing news of our Saviour's Nativity.  

(1.)  
ever-blessed Intelligence!  
That while the choir about thee sings.  
Fann'st the Air with Redolence  
From the healing in thy wings;  
How thy breath doth assume,  
Sweet before, a new perfume  
From the Odour that it brings!   

(2.)  
Thy beauteous wings, beauteous feet,  
Heaven's blessed Ambassador!  
In thy tidings joy yet meet  
Beauty they had not before.  
Night mantled in the Ray  
Of unexepected day,  
Wonders her dark reign is o'er.   

(3.)  
In what state thy glories break  
Thy Retinue to put on;  
Lustres that do weakly speak,  
Their Negotiation:  
Thy livery displays  
A Rich deep fring of Rays,  
May not well be looked upon.   

(4.)  
When thy Rosy lips give birth,  
To a golden cloud of Breath,  
That proclaimeth Peace to Earth  
And a victory in Death:  
News of a Princely Boy,  
Making us Coheirs in joy,  
With him, that doth it bequeath.    

Christ walking on the Sea.  

THe troubled Sea with pants doth bear  
Struggling beneath those blessed feet,  
That tread with power Cocrceive on't  
Fetters alone for Hellispont.  
What Fleecy billows rolling come  
Furred with the whiteness of their foam!  
Such watery Quilts, are Carpets spread  
Where ere the King of waves doth tr●ad  
The surges their curled necks upon  
Would heave him to Ascension;  
Their clouds such weight unworthy know,  
Though Heaven is (with him) below;  
The waters un-retentive are,  
Or his each step had sixth a Star:  
Whose Number then, the other's less,  
Had put them out with light's excess.    

Christ in his Baptism.  

HOw doth enamoured Jordan throw,  
His waters that do round him flow,  
And his fair limbs pant upon,  
As they had themselves outrun?  
Each successive Heir of bliss,  
Weeps and takes a parting kiss;  
Every drop Constellates here  
Trembling on a brighter sphere;  
Gemm's themselves are well content  
to make him their Ornament.  
Pranked in his lusty those would Vie,  
Fall, into a Tear and Dye;  
Or rather crawl; with appetire,  
To new Regions of delight:  
Branched into Vines, a Trace they leave,  
And wiled in Flourish inter-weave.  
The watery clusters weighty bend,  
And quiver at the Mazes end:  
Thus the Mysterious knots contrive  
Him in a weak Embrace to Give:  
Who's ' shine from each part as it plays,  
Un-essenceth the Loomb with Rays.    

Dives his Drop.  

THy singed tongue suing ears are Deaf,  
May sheivel up a withered Leaf;  
A wat'ry Drop! an Orient Gem,  
Is rated now to its esteem?  
Hadst thou afforded one cold cup,  
What Riches hadst thou Treasured up?    

The Crown of thorns on our Saviour's Head.  

(1.)  
NOw the Giant's heavens Brow  
Scaled have with ambitious Wars,  
Where their spears too Riot now,  
Wounding it with other stars.   

(2.)  
Those before did shed the Ray,  
Into showers of Golden streams;  
But these water-eyes, as they  
Bleed their bitter pointed Beams.   

(3.)  
As that in the Bush of yore,  
This Fire, indestructive burns;  
Though the lustre be all o'er.  
Vn-consumed remain the Thorns.    

The Miracle of the loaves.  

THe Widow's rising Oil and Flower  
That swelied still, as she did devour,  
But weakly Typed this glorious Feast,  
By diminution increased.    

The Tear. Psal. 6. v. 8. The Lord hath heard the Voice of my weeping.  

LOrd! we know the sinners sigh,  
Can winged on High!  
An! his groan  
Is heard loud Music to thy Throne:  
But can a poor dejected Tear  
Borne to the dust it soon doth wear;  
Be heard above where ●ngels sing,  
And drown weak sounds with Antheming?  
It can't (I fear:)  
The lids are vocal that  wide  
To utter a Spring Tide;  
And waters which with bubbling Fall  
Are Musical:  
Yet not alone the Cataracts of eyes  
Do break the skies;  
We know the Tear,  
That we give over here  
Doth hang a Jewel in thine Ear:  
Then if mine eyes cannot be fluent Lord;  
O let them speak one word!    

Paul called.  

SEe! how the zealous persecutors Breath,  
Singes the Air, belching our Fire and Death!  
Him with diviner love Christ doth acquaint,  
And Prostrate Paul doth rise created Saint.    

Pilate washing his hands.  

(1.)  
Why all this coile  
To wash a Tile  
Spread  
Through Red!   

(2.)  
Blushes away!  
Will new betray  
Th●ck  
As the Brick.   

(3.)  
These though you wash,  
All into Plash  
Still,  
Glow they will!   

(4.)  
Thy hands too Clay  
When laved away  
Stain  
Will remain.    

Lazarus and Dives.  

Why Dives loathest that wretch's skin?  
His Ulcers break, thine spread within:  
Death will strip his Hayler soul,  
And thy fair cerecloth too un-rowle:  
The naked Truth that uncloaths defect,  
And Lazarus will then neglect.    

Peter walking on the waters at our Saviour's call.  

SEe! where bold Peter at his Master's Beck,  
Treads on each waves submissive neck!  
And when them he frizzled sees,  
Wrapp his feet in the soft Fleece;  
And Poyed by Faith goes to lay hold upon▪  
The Rock of his Salvation:  
Passing with looks already o'er,  
Bend on the object that's before.  
But now the Wind in wanton luxe that blows  
Builds, and as soon again o'erthrows,  
The sinuous billows rise in Caves,  
And (curved) arch the under waves.  
Peter and them who (Angel-like) o'er ran,  
Puts on again weak sinful Man.  
Broke with Fear, the waters fall,  
And open to his burial.  
When he that only can, now called upon  
Lifts him to Resurrection.  
Teaching his Faithless feet again  
To Kick the late deceitful Main.    

To the sluggard.  

Forth! dull ones forth! No Lion stands to flay  
The early Cockcrow frights such Beasts away.    

Mortification.  Man. 
DEath! me thinks my nimble Clay  
Might cheat thy Duller, and away:  
I'll hid me from thee in Earth's womb.  Death. 
And so antedate thy Tomb.  Man. 
Then strongly I can hold the chase,  
And fly thee o'er the Earth's wide Face.  Death 
Yet tumble in at last thou must,  
And thy each steps, but dust to dust.  Man. 
But Craven I above can go,  
And you may on your Dunghill crow.  Death. 
Know though the stairs Convey you o'er  
Heaped Coffins to a boarded Flore.  Man. 
Then I can dress myself in Bays,  
Secure from thee, and all thy Ways;  
Immortal Bays! that never fall.  Death. 
Will deck thee for thy funeral.   

Ascension Day.  

POor Earth! it must be so, but greet  
The farewell kisses of his Feet,  
And he is gone!  
From thy rude pavement, that had none,  
But what he trodden,  
To that abode.  
Doth sparkle o'er with precious stone;  
Where all the beauty of the skies,  
Wait for new lustre from his eyes.  
And glorious Cherubs glittering bright,  
Spread their wings Fans, before their sight!  
Though more than Eagle plumed, they dare not eye,  
Such kill Majesty.  
But Lord! thou art not gone  
Quite from poor flesh, thou once essaiedst on;  
But wilt again return  
With Tongues of Fire, that from the twelve shall burn  
To light the Nations feet, and teach how we  
May get up after thee.    

Affliction.  

(1.)  
TIme her blithe children with their Mirth grown Red  
A peevish Grand-dame calls to Bed.  
Now the dark Lantern Night,  
Doth  and should her Light;  
The Morn doth flush,  
Gone at a Blush:  
Darkness again is Fed,  
Soon with her daily Bread.  
The brisk Hows' lead the way.  
To those that dance asleep the tired Day:   

(2.)  
But with a poor cross-armed and fortuned wretch,  
The lazy Hours do yawning stretch.  
Night thinks him Dead and His,  
As tedious Mourner is:  
The Rosy Morn  
Grows Pale outworn:  
On Woe, the boldfaced Day,  
Doth stare and Gaping stay  
The Sun doth fix his Eye,  
Till He doth Water those of Misery.   

(1.)  
And with such flaring Thread Apollo Rays,  
And Looms the Shuttle of my Days  
I lie with no Delight  
In the black arms of Night  
The Morning blows,  
I smell no Rose  
Sheds into broader Day,  
Still Night with me doth stay  
Doubled with the approach,  
When darkness lashes up her Misty Coach.   

(4.)  
●ut Lord! on Tenters if I must be thrown  
I'll Roll and think them yielding down,  
If thou prescrib'st it me,  
Healthful Phlebotomy  
My veins were once  
Swollen for the nonce.  
When I am broke and torn,  
Harrowed enough and worn,  
That thou wilt not Despise;  
●hen let my Heart (Lord) be thy Sacrifice.    

Our Saviour circumcised.  

(1.)  
BOrne (Lord) to woe  
The story of thy Age  
Has too  
As sad a Title-Page  
Thy day but now discloses,  
●nd must it needs too break in Roses!   

(2.)  
Thou art the Vine,  
Will't shed enough thy Wine  
O'erspread  
Thy Cross and Clustered Red  
The pruning-knife is letting  
Thee Blood (alas!) yet at thy setting.    

Ten Lepers cleansed, one returning Thanks.  

OF ten were cleansed but one his thanks did pay,  
And we would take too (Lord) that tithe away.    

Conscience.  

COnscience doth Ape our changes, still so dressed  
Chameleon of the Breast;  
When we put off our Working-day Array,  
she's in her Holiday:  
Be all then nearly swept from sin,  
And hung with Light:  
She keeps her Revels too within,  
As Spruce and Bright.   

(2.)  
Sloven we up ourselves in lust she brags  
No dress, but Menstruous Rags,  
And the corruption In our Bosom dwells,  
Breathes out in Noisome smells.  
She fearfully too Tenters all within  
With Pricks of sin.  
In Regulus his engine as she'd Roll  
And scratch the soul.  
Give me a quiet Conscience Lord; but none  
That is a sleepy one.    

Paul's Conversion.  

TIhine eyes did search abroad amiss for sin,  
That now confined are by reflex turned in:  
To view (blessed Paul) ills there, that call upon  
Thee to bring home thy persecution.    

PRAYER.  

(1.)  
A Fleece of Angell-downe that flies  
In a golden cloud of Breath;  
Still upward to the kindred skies  
And above them hovereth  
A Soul,  
In parcel ushering the whole.   

(2.)  
A most illustrious break of Day,  
From the Night of Death and sin,  
A Bright and Emissary Ray  
Of a cheerful light within;  
A Spice!  
Smokes from the Heart in sacrifice.   

(3.)  
A Spirit hath got leave to play  
From its Chains of Flesh and Blood.  
A soul escaped to learn the way  
To it's longed for abroad;  
A thought,  
Then up in the third Heavens caught.   

(4.)  
A talking with the Holy One,  
A Familiar conference:  
A wrestling for a sparkling throne  
Got by holy violence  
A Plate.  
And Clapper to Saint Peter's Gate,    

The Hindrance.  

(1.)  
MY God an evil Custome's not  
When we would have it, just forgot  
Tired with Livelong sin,  
I oft would rest  
Gathered within  
My Breast:   

(2.)  
But an officious thought before,  
Crept in at some private door,  
That lust would speak with me;  
Whispers aside  
When I would be  
Denied.   

(3.)  
THe surfeits we first took to please  
Hang after on us our disease.  
The quarters warning not  
Once wages pay,  
Can them allot  
Their stay,   

(4.)  
My God I knew the Time  
My thoughts could climb  
Above the Morning Lark on wing,  
And sing.   

(5.)  
The Regions of the air  
Did not impair  
But pervious as a Vacuum  
Become.   

(6.)  
Each crowded star retires  
And called in's Fires  
Till far above their Orbs they greet  
Thy feet.   

(7.)  
Now flutter out their age,  
Penned up in Cage;  
And as Debauched Prisoners do,  
They too.    

Christmas-Day.  

(1.)  
AWake! awake! the Morn  
Is long since sprightly borne;  
And with it is  
The Prince of Bliss;  
A Ray  
Of Angels broke the Day.   

(2.)  
Aurora half asleep  
Doth dew-bedabled creep,  
Will blushing rise  
At the surprise,  
To be  
But her own Deputy.   

(3.)  
The Bethlemites at sight  
Of inexpected Light  
Amazed fell  
With Miracle:  
To keep  
A Golden-Fleeced sheep.   

(4.)  
And they thus prostrate do  
Confess Obedience too  
To Him must keep  
The Shepherd's sheep,  
To stock  
●is strange inverted Flock.   

(5.)  
Yet this great Shepherd now  
To whom the Pastor's bow  
At last supplies  
In Sacrifice,  
A meek  
Lamb for the Paschall week.   

(6.)  
Thou dost the offering do  
(Lord!) whom 'tis effered to  
Us Lambs-dost feed  
One for us bleed  
Alone  
Propitiation.    

Confession.  

MY God my inside might no day  
 peeps into with half a Ray.  
The darkness there ne'er knew the Sun,  
That puts the Negro mourning on,  
But fires of lust there dwell that can  
Scorch me an Aethiopian;  
Related flames to those that dwell  
(Black in the ugly mouth of Hell,  
That Roabed in as coarse a smoke,  
And stifled in themselves (too) choke.  
My God these mists (thick Rhined) Chase  
And break them with a dawn of grace,  
Let my overflowing eyes turn in.  
Till they wash off the blacks of sin,  
And the clear face of Conscience twin  
With the bright glass it dresses in.  
Such spruceness thy blessed Dove may woo,  
To house within my bosom too  
That there with beauteous wings displayed  
Will scatter shine instead of shade;  
And my lose thoughts keep home to one  
Bright heaven of meditation.  
My shuddered senses will retire,  
And leave abroad no wild desire.  
My bosom (Lord) one stroke dispatch,  
Is tinder apt enough to catch;  
I have a heart too hard as Flint  
Who knows but fire is veined within't  
Oh but thou hast essayed and dark,  
I have not answered in a spark.  
Yet thou smitest oft, and always on,  
With steels of tried affliction,  
But (roughly struck) my hart was bright,  
Once with some fair spread seeds of light:  
Then (Lord) the fault hath surely been  
In these O're-burned Rags of sin.  
Oh Teach me but out on them to le●  
My tears, such tinder takes when we●    

The Rose.  

(1.)  
I saw the Rose that blew  
This very morn,  
Beslubbered ●'re with dew,  
As soon as born.   

(2.)  
The childhood I confess  
Was passing sleek,  
And wind did kissing press  
The damask cheek.   

(3.)  
When the ripe Virgin spread  
The Suns fixed eye  
Made her recline the head,  
All modesty.   

(4.)  
 courage she receives  
A storm doth Rush,  
And scatter's all the leaves,  
While yet they blush.   

(9)  
Man so is born, and cries,  
His cheeks as gay  
His youth so charmeth eyes,  
So snatched away.    

On some leaves of the Holy Bible bound on either side of a Book of Humanity.  

HEre, here's a mass ill blended, where the light  
And darkness shuffled in one Chaos fight;  
Or on each side (unmixed) the light hath state.  
And shows the Chaos newly separate.  
The Aethicks know not the Position here  
Where virtue is not in the proper sphere:  
But joint extremes into the middle slide,  
And virtue sliced attends on either side.    

Innocents' Day.  

HOw grief enamell'd here appears!  
In showers of Milk, of blood, of tears,  
As the various Iris now  
Had wept her bow.  
Mother's eyes tears not only do,  
Their breasts shed to their infants too:  
Till blushing steel let's out the flood,  
Curdled with blood.  
What needed Canaan flowed before  
With milk and honey, milk and gore!  
Sad fair mixture to bequeath  
Beauty to death.    

Nature.  

MY God if thou not pullest us thence,  
Flesh wallows in the mud of sense,  
Thy paths are clean, but ragged oft,  
And sloughs, however foul, are soft.    

The Jews attempting to stone our SAVIOUR.  

(1.)  
ARe these the griefs thou dost express,  
These are Zions cruel ones;  
Peevesh rending of thy dress,  
And a ruthless shower of stones.   

(2.)  
Keep the Laws but strict intent,  
Though that thunder here be none,  
Each hath its Commandment,  
In a table (too) of stone.   

(3.)  
Struck with grief unless thou melt,  
As the Rook did sometime do:  
When him you'd kill, Compassion felt,  
Those will gush out waters too.   

(4.)  
Why should you antedate his day,  
That shall be laid in stone erewhile,  
And shall thence (too) break away,  
As he doth now through your pile.    

The good Thief.  

HOw thy inverted sentence is undone,  
Into salvation;  
That didst but mount thy Cross, and by that kiss  
Step'st into Paradise.    

Our Saviour naked and wounded on the Cross.  

THy wounds a tide,  
Unto thy snowy skin dispense,  
That down thy Virgin limbs doth slide;  
And throws a blush o'er innocence.   

(5.)  
Who Heaven's is,  
Hath found an unjust judge of man,  
His Robes in death though (●ot amiss)  
Are Scarlet furred with down of Swan.    

The Widow's Mites.  

Wonder close writers that by magic tie't,  
To see her Creed here conjured in a mite.    

The Prodigal.  

STay wanton youth, that wild in Luxe,  
Tyr'st witty Riot, and (once in)  
Paddlest in voluptuous mud,  
Shall thy spring tied have no reflux,  
Still to the Chin  
Must thou be borne up in the unctuous flood:  
Sure thou'lt be weary when thou comest to di●●,  
(Too) with the swine.    

The Sepulchre.  

(3.)  
SToop (viler Rocks) to wanes that rush,  
Or tears more kindly-native gush,  
Or red with your own Coral blush;  
That this (late) stone  
As cheap an one,  
Entrusted lies.  
The great Exchequer both of earth, and skies.   

(2.)  
Man sure had harder, or had none,  
This Rock had bowels but of stone,  
And yet it felt Compassion;  
And made him Room  
In her cold Womb;  
Till the third day,  
He risen and double gilt it with his Ray.    

Pride.  

MAn knew no pride, when brave in each respect,  
Pride first began, when first began defect.    

The Gadarens desiring Christ to leave their Confines.  

WHy from your borders Gadaren? he slew  
Alas not half the swine he left with you.    

Affliction.  

(1.)  
HOw did the jolly current run?  
Where I did tippling play,  
And no thought take,  
But guest the Crystal still would on;  
And not my joys betray;  
To this black Lake.   

(2.)  
The wanton curls aside, I threw  
From my entangled arms,  
And ravished swum:  
Till me still on the waters drew,  
With the soft murmured charms  
To where I am,   

(3.)  
I know the Angler throws his bait  
To catch the easy fry,  
But did not dream,  
That their own water lay in wait,  
And therefore (careless) I  
Went with the stream.   

(4.)  
Thy stubborn Prophet (Lord) did cry  
From the unfathomed deep,  
And reached thine ears,  
Oh! from this gulf but raise me, I  
To drown my sin will weep  
A sea of tears.    

The Soul compared to a Flower.  

AS the flower doth tender spread,  
The bright (in earth's fair bosom) head,  
If it the dew and rain doth nourish,  
My so tender mind doth flourish;  
While with pleasant dew 'tis fed;  
That is, from thy fair spirit shed,  
If this it want it strait doth lie  
(Heavy) as in a soil that's dry.  
The flower that doth arise, unless  
Both dew and rain it nourishes.   
Ex Flamen. Metris.   

Patience.  

(1.)  
Thou pious Angel that dost dwell  
Not under Roofs that shine;  
But rather standest to prop the cell,  
That doth with age decline.   

(2.)  
When the world shattered would fall on  
Our Cottages of clay:  
Under the headlong Ruins gone  
Thou dost the Rubbish stay.   

(3.)  
And while the lash is falling seen  
(that yet it may be broke)  
Thou with thy guardian side between  
dost carry off the stroke.   

4.  
Thou turn'st on the tormentor back  
the anguish of his shame:  
While we tell truth upon the rack  
and (Martyrs) sing in Flame.    

Meditation.  

1.  
THou fair Asylum of the mind,  
where we retire,  
And from ourselves a safety find;  
and wild desire.   

2.  
A naked lodging you procure  
within a heart,  
And leave it a rich furniture  
when you departed.   

3.  
Thou callest in the thoughts at large  
by thine arrest;  
And redeliver'st them to charge,  
of their own breast▪   

(4.)  
In thy withdrawings souls debate,  
(in dear discourse)  
Upon their own eternal state,  
and long divorce.   

(5.)  
Thou leav'st the body clean alone,  
while all doth rise  
Within by contemplation  
above the skies.    

Tears.  

THe seeds of penitence, that sown  
Are (instant) high as heaven grown  
A rainy Sunshine that appears  
Less glorious, when you think it clears;  
Why superstitious beads when eyes,  
Have of their own such Rosaries?  
When the penned soul doth want its light,  
This water washes clean the sight,  
These are the sparks we may admire  
Above the Diamond entire.  
And each to Heaven doth (dearer) lie,  
Than unto us the precious eye.  
These gems do best adorn the soul  
When the shed ropes do scattered roll:  
That (inexhaustibly a store)  
Through prodigality are more;  
And fall but from the Casker eyes,  
On purpose to be treasuri●●.  
A spring, that wash off only can  
The sinful Aethiopian,  
Where Angels dabbling with the wing  
Do their eternal Anthems sing,  
From which though daily purged we fly,  
Hemerobaptist Heresy.    

jacob's Vision at Bethel.  

(1.)  
ANd nights now silent wheels that glide  
with sun-discovered pace,  
Hid with the mists they threw aside  
earth's solitary face.   

(2.)  
When the good traveller oppressed,  
doth undisturbed, begin  
To take up to his urgent rest,  
his inter-cepted Inn:   

(3.)  
And builds up an industrious heap  
(of the there scattered stone)  
An Altar dedicate to sleep,  
that he reposes on:   

(4.)  
Where richly melting in his thought,  
and soft presume of Prayer,  
His lids as sweet a slumber caught  
as he had slept on Air,   

(5.)  
Now with a ravishing too theme  
that doth his sense unwind,  
The joys of a delicious dream  
Run through his beauteous mind.   

(6)  
A golden scale doth from him rise,  
the prospect of his soul,  
That lifts his intellectual eyes  
to where the Clouds unroul,   

(7.)  
And the fair Gate of Heaven lies  
with bright expanded leaves,  
Whence he the sacred treasuries  
with ecstasy receives,   

(8.)  
Angels that flutter to and fro  
as sweet a calm do bring  
As they should o'er the pillow throw  
the down beneath their wing:   

(9)  
Lord, could we on the quarries sleep  
of hard affliction so,  
We from the ragged elifts as steep,  
might up with Angels go.    

The Taper.  

(1.)  
HOw that unthrifty Taper is declined?  
the substance spent,  
And dear abundance in the which it shined  
and lustre lent,  
And of its own betraying Flash in dread,  
Within the socket hides the bankrupt-head.   

(2.)  
How doth it wave the fires from side to side,  
and bows oppressed,  
Until it languid all recruits have tried  
in an unrest,  
Then sinks into the bed that it hath wet,  
And with a fever, licks up what it sweat.   

(3.)  
See how it heavy now the best part out  
doth hopeless ley,  
And now again in a reviving doubt  
lifts up the eye:  
Still the departing fires their furewell give,  
And still by lucid intervals they live.   

(4.)  
See now the nozzle all with Flame is lined,  
and the vexed elf,  
Doth a consuming hell of torment find;  
within itself:  
Or as it there is Sepulchred doth burn  
The proper Ceremony of its urn.   

(5.)  
The Tapers of our lives contract or spread  
thus (Lord) the fires,  
And a fair sheet of lightning from them shed,  
as soon retires:  
Howe'er when the whole matter shall consume  
Let them my God go out with a perfume.    

Our Saviour crucified between two Thiefs.  

(1.)  
LOrd from this stock mixed with a Graft unfit  
what fruit escapes?  
When we may equally gather from it  
Thistles and Grapes.   

(2.)  
That people thee did a deceiver call,  
thee so esteems,  
No ever Virtue had among them all,  
like these extremes.   

(3.)  
Thou the great Judge of Heaven and Earth dost one  
sad cross divide,  
With malefactors ill disposed on  
thy either side.   

(4.)  
Yet here thou dost thy fearful day begin  
and parted stand  
The Goat and Sheep with the same space between,  
thy either hand.    

Prayers, First for the Morning.  

(1.)  
THe Morn her Rubie-studded Reins  
now shakes on her Rathe horses mains  
And with a dawn of Rosey light  
doth blush away the shades of night.   

(2.)  
Lord! let the influx of thy grace  
so through my dark breasts display,  
And (by insinuation) chase  
the sin-contracted night away.    

(2.) For Noon  

(1.)  
THe Sun now to his height aspires,  
and throweth East and West his fires:  
Th' awakened spice perceives his shine,  
and the warm bowels of the Mine.   

(2.)  
Lord, now inflame us with thy Love,  
and let it with a vigour rise:  
Until it glow and spread above  
the convex of  skies.    

(3.) For Evening.  

(1.)  
NOw posts the Conscientious day,  
all Red with Modesty away  
And hastes to hid her bashful light  
in the foul bosom of the night.   

(2.)  
Lord! though the Tapers of the day  
thus by succession find their Urn,  
Let ours no such weak Laws obey,  
but still (unintermitted) burn.    

The good Thief.  

(1.)  
SO more than in the edge of Evening, who  
e'er had the days whole hire but you?  
Th●● unto Rapine didst (accustomed) watch,  
and thy salvation snatch:  
or the third Heavens caught  
Thee up (from thy example) taught:   

(2.)  
What a compendium thou dost make of bliss?  
yet dost complete repentance too;  
And not a cold and barren Faith thine is,  
but it doth likewise do,  
thou plead'st the Lord's defence  
Strange Orator of innocence!    

The Viper on the hand of Saint Paul.  

THat Viper once accursed leapt with intent,  
(From his hot bed) but to die innocent,  
And having kissed Paul's hand quite overcome,  
Dropped to his Flames, and suffered Martyrdom,    
FINIS.   

Errata.  
Page 2. line 8. read is. p. 5. l. 2. r. to p. 5. l. 3. r. there. p. 9 l. 9 r. retained. p 12. l. 21. r. brings. p. 13. l. 17. r. useless p. 18. l. 3. r. eye-beams. p. 8. l. 14. r. Diadems p. 18. l. 16. r. dress. p. 21. l. 22. r. own p. 24. l. 21●. twitt'ring. p. 25 l. penult. deal by. p. 26. l. 13. r. reluctancy. p. 26. l. 27. r. where. p. 27. l. ● r. sight. p. 28. l. 7. r variety. p. 30. l. 8. r. a rising. p. 31. l. 24. r. precipice p. 34. l. 24. r. heir. p. 37. l. 27. r. stir. p. 40. l. 10. deal a. p. 40. l. 25. r. learns. p. 44. l. 7. r. resolved. l 31. r. his. p. 44. l. before the antepenult whate'er. p 45 l 9 r. terribly. p. 46. l. 1. r. thought. p 48. l. 29. r. it dimmer. v. ult. r. ever. p. 58. l. 2. r. wont. p. 66. l. ult. r. my. p. 69. l. 5. r. burn. p. 42. l. 7. r. sealed. p. 77. l. 33. r. lambent. p. 76. l. 6. r. believe. 119 l. before antepenult. r. mounts.   

THE FIRST TABLE.  

THe Centaur. Pag. 1.  
Ode. Hastening his friend into the country. Pag. 4.  
To His honoured Friend Colonel R L. on his second failing. Pag. 6.  
To a Lady becomingly Reserved. Pag. 6.  
A Dial eaten with antiquity. Pag. 10.  
On the old Tomb keeper, that shows the Monuments in Westminster Abbey. Pag. 11.  
His imprisonment in the spring. Pag. 12.  
On the burning some locks of a Gentlewonans hair. Pag. 13.  
The Daisy. Pag. 14.  
Adonis' slain. Pag. 15.  
Barn-Elms. Pag. 16.  
Upon a Gentlewoman caught in a shower of Hail. Pag. 17.  
On the death of a Canary-bird killed with the fall of a Cage. Pag. 19  
To Doctor T.F. on his game at Chess. Pag. 20.  
Her suspicion. ibid.  
An old woman weeping. Pag. 23.  
The Hectors. Pag. 24.  
An Epithalamium. ibid.  
On the sight of a Lady ' walking in an evening in white Sarsenet. Pag. 27.  
To his ingenious friend Mr. Maes; drawing the flowers in their successive growth. Pag. 28.  
The Landscape between two Hills. Pag. 30.  
Narcissus. Pag. 33.  
Lib. 3. Ode 3. Horat. ibid.  
To my Honoured friend Coll. Richard Lovelace. Pag. 34.  
Ode. Pag. 36.  
A Lady foiled. ibid.  
The Nymph. Pag. 38.  
Epigram. ibid.  
Astrea recalled Pag. 39  
Lazar. ibid.  
Phantomachia or the Goblin. Pag. 40.  
An Elegy sacred to the memory of my late honoured friend, Coll. Richard Lovelace, Pag. 46.  
Ode to Chloris forsworn. Pag. 50.  
The Net. Pag. 51.  
To Batavus. Pag. 52.  
Ode. Pag. 53.  
To his Noble Friend J. R. The Prison. Pag. 54.  
Ode. Pag. 56.  
Pentadii Epigramma. ibid.  
To her taxing him for late writing to her. Pag. 57  
Giganto machia. Pag. 58.  
The . Pag. 59  
Mart. lib. Epigram. 48. Pag. 60.  
The Mute Dialogue. ibid.  
In Amicitias. Pag. 61.  
Ode. Pag. 62.  
Ode to the Prisoner. ibid.  
A new years' gift. Pag. 63.  
The fair Nymph scorning a black boy courting her. Pag. 65.  
The Inversion. ibid.  
Ode. Pag. 68  
A Prologue to a Play presented by some Gentlemen to a select company of Ladies. Pag. 69.  
To his friend. Pag. 70.  
The Siren. ibid.  
Amarantha. Pag. 73.  
Charles the Fift soleminizing his own Funerals. Pag. 76.  
Ode to Celia blushing. Pag. 79.  
To Captain D. L. on his book of Fortification and Geometry. Pag. 81.  
Ode. Pag. 88  
To a Lady with black hair. Pag. 83.  
Ode to Lycoris not to curl her hair. Pag. 84.  
On Mr. Gamble's composing Mr. Stanly's Odes. Pag. 85.  
The Phoenix. Pag. 86.  
Lycoris sleeping. Pag. 91.  
One enamoured on a Black-moor. Pag. 92e  
A black Nymph scorning a fair boy Courting her. Pag. 94.  
On Mr. J. H. His translation of Hierocles Comment on the verses of Pythagoras. Pag. 96.  
A blush. Pag. 97.  
Tabularium. ibid.  
Ode. The Rosary. Pag. 98.  
Ode for Winter. Pag. 100  
Ode. Pag. 101.  
Ode. Pag. 102.  
A Frost. Pag. 103.  
The year Pag. 104.  
Spring. ibid.  
Summer. Pag. 106.  
Autumn. Pag. 107.  
Winter Pag. 108.    

The Second TABLE.  

JOHN lying on the bosom of our Saviour. Page 113  
Hezechias recovery, Page 114.  
The Aethiopian Baptised. Page 114.  
Christ washing Judas feet. Page 115.  
A penitential Hymn. Page 116  
Mari's Ointment. Page 116  
Judgement. Page 118.  
All these have I kept from my youth upward. Page 119.  
On the death of a child in the month. ibid.  
Mortal Man. Page 120.  
Man's Insensibility. ibid.  
Zaccheus called. ibid.  
Caesar's Tribute. Page 121.  
Christ and the Disciples in a storm. ibid.  
Death. Page 123.  
Our Saviour cradled in the manger. ibid.  
Adam hiding himself among the Trees of the Garden. Page 124.  
Jesus wept. Page 125.  
The water made wine. ibid.  
O●● Saviour scourged, clothed with Purple Crowned with Thorus. Page 126.  
Lazarus, raised by our Saviour, after four days lying in the Grave. Page 127.  
Jesus eating, John fasting. Page 128.  
To the Angel, bringing news of our Saviour's Nativity. ibid.  
Christ walking on the Sea. Page 130.  
Christ in his-Baptism. Page 131.  
Dives' drop. Page 132.  
The Crown of Thorns on our Saviour's head. ibid.  
The Tear. Page 133.  
Paul called. Page 134.  
Pilate washing his hands. ibid.  
Peter walking on the water at our Saviour's call. Page 135.  
Lazarus and Dives. ibid.  
To the sluggard. Page 136.  
Mortification. ibid.  
Ascension day. Page 137.  
Affliction. Page 138.  
Our Saviour circumcised. Page 139.  
Ten Lepers cleansed, one returning thanks. Page 140.  
Conscience. ibid.  
Paul's Conversion. Page 141.  
Prayer. ibid.  
The hinderannce. Page 142.  
Christmas day. Page 144.  
Confession. Page 145.  
The Rose. Page 147.  
On some leaves of the Holy Bible bound in on either side of a Book of Humanity. Page 148.  
Innocents' day. ibid.  
Nature. Page 149.  
The jews attempting to stone Christ. ibid.  
The good thief. Page 150.  
Christ naked and wounded on the Cross. ibid.  
The Mites. Page 151.  
The Prodigal. ibid.  
The Sepulchre. Page 151.  
Pride. Page 152.  
The Gadarens desiring Christ to leave their borders. Page 152.  
Affliction. ibid.  
The Soul a flower. Page 154.  
Patience. ibid.  
Meditation. Page 155.  
Tears. Page 156.  
jacob's Vision at Bethel. Page 157.  
The Taper. Page 159.  
Christ crucified between two thiefs. Page 160.  
Prayers for Morning. Page 161.  
For Noon. Page 162.  
For Evening. Page 163.  
The good Thief, Page 164.  
The Viper on the hand of Saint Paul. Page 165.   
FINIS.