FLAMMA SINE Fumo: OR, POEMS WITHOUT FICTIONS.  
Hereunto are annexed the Causes, Symptoms, or Signs of several Diseases with their Cures, and also the diversity of Vrines, with their Causes in Poeticl measure.  Est Deus in nobis, agitante calescimus illo; 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. 
By R. W.  
LONDON, Printed for William Leak● at the Crown in F●er●●l e●t between the two Temple-gates 1662.   

To the Honourable Colonel, Sr. HERBERT PRISE Knight, The staff of his Family, and the honour of his Country; the Author wisheth augmentation of happiness in this life, and perfection of glory in the life to come.  
SIR,  
IN presenting this slender Work to your excellent judgement, I do, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, lend light unto the Sun, or add a dish of water to the Sea You are yourself a walking Library, and I believe, in these days you study men more than Books: Nevertheless, presuming upon your Noble mind, and disposition, I have adventured to shelter these few lines under your name, as being my Guardian, or tutelary Angel: You must not expect so much profit from barren, as from fertile grounds, neither do common fields produce such pleasant flowers, as curious Gardens. I am one of the meanest of your servants, and you must consider rather the affection of the workman, than the perfection of the work. Although rich men brought their gold, purple, and silk to the building of the Temple, yet the poorer sort brought but Goat's hair; the abundance of the heart excused the poverty of the hand: And I am glad to produce something which may testify my zeal to piety, and my affection to loyalty. All candles are not of the same proportion, neither do they give an equal light, yet it is no wisdom to hid the least candle under a bushel, for the least candle may be commodious for little rooms, though not so convenient for spacious Hals: I have no delicacies for a dainty, or wanton stomach; but a brown loaf may be as wholesome, though not so delicate as white bread; and water for some bodies is more convenient, than wine: This work is plain, and short; like a little cup, it will hardly give you your morning's draught; I desire you to accept of it, as it is, and me, as I am  
Your Honour's most devoted Servant ROWLAND WATKYNS.   

TO THE Reader.  

I Am not Eagle eyed to face the Sun,  
My mind is low, and so my Verse doth run.  
I do not write of Stars to make men wonder.  
Or Planets how remote they move asunder.  
My shallow River thou may'st ford with 〈◊〉.  
Ways, which are fair, and plain can ne'er disp●●a●.  
R. W.    


Concerning God and Christ. Veriùs cogitatur, quàm dicitur, & veriùs est, quàm cogitatur.  

PResumptuous man God's Essence would define,  
Were he to reason subject, or to time:  
Angels in part may apprehend his nature,  
To comprehend him lies not in any creature:  
It is an easier labour to impa●t  
What thou art not, (O Lord) than what thou art.  
No matter, form, or composition can  
Be found in God, as in a mortal man.  
He cannot be deceived, he cannot lie,  
He cannot sin commit, he cannot die.  
God may be angry with man's sinful way,  
And yet no passion doth his nature sway.  
His centre's every where: no humane sense,  
Or place can limit his circumference:  
Who can find out one God in persons three?  
Or how three persons can one Godhead be?  
Or how the holy Father, and the Son  
Coequal are before all worlds begun,  
As Christ is God, a mother he had not,  
As he is man, man never him begot.  
His Mother was a Virgin, chaste, unstained;  
After Christ's birth a Virgin she remained.  
She had a Son, nor did the Son untie  
The sacred bands of her Virginity.  
A Virgin, and a Mother; God, and man;  
Who these mysterious secrets riddle can?  
Approach not (O my soul) too near that light,  
Which will obscure, and dull the curious sight,  
My speech, and reason sails, I'll case my Lute,  
Wonder I may, but not of God dispute:    

FAITH. Fides famem non formidat; Bern.  

ALthough I am not pure, or white,  
But blacker than the shades of night,  
Although my sins in heaps do lie  
●●ke Crimson red, or scarlet dye;  
Yet through the grace of God I know  
I shall be white, as wool, or snow.  
Although my Harp is turned to woe,  
And I, like Pilgrims, mourning go,  
Although I feed on cares, like bread,  
And wash all night with tears my bed,  
Yet faith assures me, that my God,  
Will kiss me again, and burn his rod:  
Although the Devil doth prepare,  
And ●a●ch to take me in his snare;  
Though like a thief both night, and day  
He thinks to steal my soul away,  
Yet like a bird my soul shall fly  
Safe from the fowler's tyranny.  
Though friends will not support my need,  
But fail me like a broken reed,  
Although they love, but while 'tis fair,  
And leave me in the troubled air;  
Yet Christ my Rock is firm in love,  
And nothing can this Rock remove;  
Though corruption is my father,  
And although just death will gather  
My body to the peaceful number  
Of those, that in their graves do slumber,  
Though I am dust, yet thence i'll rise,  
●nd see my Saviour with these eyes.    

Upon Christ's Nativity or Christmas.  

FRom three dark places Christ came forth this day,  
First from his Father's bosom, where he lay  
Concealed till now; then from the typick Law,  
Where we his manhood but by figures saw,  
And lastly from his mother's womb he came  
To us a perfect God, and perfect man.  
Now in a Manger lies th' eternal Word,  
The Word he is, yet can no speech afford.  
He is the Bread of life, yet hungry lies,  
The living Fountain, yet for drink he cries;  
He cannot help, or  himself at need,  
Who did the Lilies cloth, and Ravens feed:  
He is the light of lights, yet now doth shroud  
His glory with our nature as a cloud:  
He came to us a little one, that we  
Like little children might in malice be;  
Little he is, and wrapped in clouts, lest he  
Might strike us dead, if clothed with majesty.  
Christ had four beds, and those not soft, nor brave,  
The Virgin's Womb, the Manger, Cross and Grave;  
The Angels sung this day; and so will I,  
That have more reason to be glad, than they:    

The covetous worldling:— Quid non mortalia pect●●a cogit Auri sacra fames?  

WHy dost thou dote on gold, and deemest gra●e  
A thing not worth thy lab●● or embrace?  
No prudent man would blear-eyed Leah woo,  
And with disdain let the fair Rachel go:  
He is a foolish Merchant, that's more fond  
Of glassy Bugles, than a Diamond:  
So Esau sought for Venison, carnal food,  
And lost the blessing, which was far more good:  
Thy coffers may be full, but yet this will  
Though like a gulf it sucks in, doth not fill:  
Wealth is to thee, like fuel to the fire,  
Which doth augment, and kindle more desire:  
God hath set bounds unto the Sea, to curb  
Her proudest waves, lest they the earth disturb.  
But what can limit, what can set a bound  
Unto thy wand'ring thoughts? a little ground  
Contains thy body; and when thou art dead,  
Thou art contented with a narrow bed:  
O pray for Grace, without which all thy store,  
Which should enrich thee, will but make thee poor,    

The Anabaptist. ostend Anabaptistam, & ego ostendam monstrum.  

WHat wouldst thou have? a King, a Lord, a Knight,  
A Bishop, Priest are monsters in thy sight;  
No Church, nor Altar, and no Law must be  
To dictate but thy conscience unto thee.  
It thou art displeased with Laws Divine, and Civil,  
I know not what will fit thee, but the Devil.    

Upon the mournful de●th of our la●e Sovereign Lord Charles the first, King of England, etc.  

I Read of a Confessor, and a King,  
A King, and Martyr is a stranger thing.  
Our Charles was both: A King both just, and wise,  
A holy Martyr, and sweet sacrifice:  
Thiefs did consent to kill the just; but why?  
When that the Wolf is Judge, the Lamb must die?  
He went to Canaan for three Kingdoms good,  
Through the red-Sea of his own sacred blood:  
Thus John the Baptist died, that holy one,  
Whilst Herod did usurp King David's throne.  
By his beheading it may well be sed.  
Three Kingdoms by injustice lost their head;  
If ere I shall the aid of Saints implore,  
Thy Shrine alone (good Charles) I will adore;  
Lord, let my soul unto thy Kingdom come,  
To see King Charles crowned for his Martyrdom.    

God's Mercy. Nec hab●t principium, quo in●hoatur, n●● finem quo terminatur.  

THe Sun's within his Tropics; th'heavens high  
Within a span; the clouds included lie  
Within the fist; the earth that spacious creature,  
Within a circle is confined by Nature.  
But (O thou God of Love) to thy rich treasure  
Of endless mercy who can find a measure?    

Upon the return of our most illustrious King Charles the second from Flanders to England.  

WElcome bright Star, the prodrome of the day,  
With whom the Sun of glory shall display  
His golden banners, and restore the Light  
Of truth eclipsed by an erroncous night:  
He lived in exile long, and Flanders then  
Was th' eagle's nest, or the true Lion's den:  
He passed a Sea of troubles; and each wave  
Of grief he flatted with a soul more brave.  
To meet their King, the people ran so fast,  
As if each one disdained to be the last.  
Such plenteous tears of joy flowed every where,  
That some in England did a deluge fear;  
They did such piks of wood in London burn,  
That many thought it would to Ilium turn;  
Those fires are ended, but the flames of love  
Unto our King shall everlasting prove:  
Long live King Charles, so long, till wise men see  
His years as many as his virtues be.  
Then he'll outlive old Nestor, whose glass ran  
Before 'twas spent through the third age of man.    

Upon the Lord's Prayer. Clavis Cal●.  

THe sacred Prayer of the eternal Word  
Doth greater comfort to my soul afford,  
Tiran all the p●ayers made by humane A●t,  
Those I have read, but this I have by heart;  
It is my constant prayer; and the best  
Like rich perfume to sweeten all the rest.    

Winter. Charitas frigescit.  

Spark not to me of Frizland, on the cold  
And gelid Climates of the North: I hold  
There can no greater frost● or Win●er be,  
〈◊〉 ●●d heart that's cold in ●●arit●.  
O shine thou Sun of glory, and impart  
Thy gracious heat to thaw my frozen heart,    

Upon the Right Honourable the Lord General George Monk, Duke of Albemarle: Qui lumen pietatis, slumen liberalitatis, & fulmen belli.  

HEre is our glorious Atlas, who doth bear  
Our heaven up, and keep our hearts from fear.  
His merit is beyond reward, whose mind  
To high attempts by Nature is confined;  
Some Merchants have by their adventures bold,  
Enriched this Land with precious pearl, and gold,  
Yet none but Royal Monk could ever bring  
So rich a treasure, as our gracious King:  
Herculean labours were but, twelve: here's one  
That hath an hundred labours undergone:  
He ne'er was rash, nor did the hasty hand,  
But a wise heart his active sword command;  
Judgement, and valour live in him, as fair  
Rebecca's sons did in one womb: despair  
Can ne'er attempt him; for his nobler mind  
Did soar above the reach of storms, and wind.  
This good Centurion doth not love to change  
His garment of Religion, nor to range  
Through Groves of fancies: he's a fixed star  
To beautify the Church, and seat of war,  
He is descended from a Royal line,  
Not from the Bramble, but the slately Pine;  
The glory of the Wood: his virtues be  
The Symptoms of his true Nobility.  
He is in virtues rich, in merits high,  
So let him happy live, so let him die.    

REPENTANCE, Vnicum necessarium.  

REpentance is the key for rich and poor,  
To lock up Hell, and open Heaven's door.  
When like the Dove, our wand'ring souls have left  
The Ark of God; and when we are bereft  
Of safety and relief; all help is vain,  
But by repentance to return again:  
One tear for sin yields to the soul relief,  
More than a fountain shed for worldly grief.  
The Vine drops tears, which well the face may clear,  
But never beautify the soul: Repentance here  
Must be the spring, which makes us seem so bright,  
As if we were transfigured into light.    

WORLDLY WEALTH: Natura paucis contenta.  

WEalth unto every man, I see,  
Is like the Bark unto the Tree:  
Take from the Tree the Bark away,  
The naked Tree will soon decay.  
Lord, make not me too rich, nor make me poor,  
To wait at rich men's tables, or their door.    

Upon the Coronation of our Sovereign Lord CHARLES by the grace of God King of England, Scotland, France and Ireland, Defender of the Faith. Aspice venturo laetentur ut omnia saeclo.  

OUr Solomon is crowned: A Crown will share  
Not more of honour to his head, than care.  
He wore, as the great King of Heaven would,  
A Crown of Thorns, before his Crown of Gold:  
Thus children, whom the Lord intends to bless,  
Go to their Canaan through the Wilderness.  
CHARLES, by the grace of God, (wise men foresee)  
Greater than Charles the Great, in time shall be.  
Almost to death unhappy England bled,  
And lived a Monster long without a Head:  
The Kingdom swallowed up the Commonwealth,  
And England, which was sick, is now in health.  
Her Merchants shall bring gold, and pearl, and spice,  
To make this Garden rich as Paradise;  
And unto Caesar, our most gracious King,  
Great Nations shall their humble Presents bring.  
Kings were near Fountains crowned, as Writers show,  
Because from them, as from pure Fountains, flow  
Our wealth, health, honour: If the Head be ill,  
By sympathy the Body suffer will:  
We may as well live without air, or fi●e,  
Or bread, and water, which we all require,  
As live without a King, because the King  
Is like the Sun, which maketh every thing  
To grow and flourish: He's the Stern to guide  
Our wand'ring ships through every wind and tide:  
The Kings our Nursing Father, and the Queen▪  
Gur Nursing Mother; It is always seen,  
That if the careful Nurse be sick or ill,  
The Child cannot be well, that sucks her still.  
What doth befall, or what concerns the King,  
It streams to us like Rivers from the Spring:  
If that the King be glad, 'tis joy to all;  
And if he stands, the people cannot fall.  
God save the King, let all the people shout,  
And give unto his foes a total rout.    

Ad verè pium, & reverendissimum in Christo Patrem, Gulielmum Lucy, permissione divinâ Episcopum Menevensem, nec non Lumen Walliae splendidissimum.  

GRande solamen, Decus & supremum,  
Luce tu moestos recreas Britannos,  
Advenis nobis bonus, & benign●  
Gratior aurâ:  
Gloriam mundi nimium dolosi  
Negligis vanam: meliora speran;  
Vivis & caeli cupidus perennes  
Ambis honores:  
Heù domum sacram videas ruen●em,  
Et lutum erroris populi sequaces  
Inquinat menles: gravidas labora  
Pellere nubes:  
Sedulò vulpes capias rapaces,  
Et lupos bl●ndis ov●b●s mali●nos  
Dissipans s●●as graviter profanas  
Lumin● sac●o●  
Firma sis verae fid●i columna,  
Ni ma●●s 〈◊〉 dabis adjuvantes,  
Obruet coecis populum tenebris  
Impius error:  
Quàm cilò mundi fragilis voluptas,  
Et viri nomen moritur poten●●s?  
Est tibi virtus m●l●or suturae  
Bucci●a famae.    

Upon the Right Honourable JAMES Duke of Ormond, and Earl of Brecknock.  

HEre is the lofty Pine, which always stood  
In spite of winds, the pride of all the Wood:  
He's great by birth, and great by wealth; but he  
Cannot be greater than his merits be:  
Though like a mountain his great Fortunes swell,  
His lowly Mind doth in a valley dwell:  
Ambition spurs him not; for he doth move  
In th'highest orb of Honour, and of Love.  
The Learned he prefers; his Judgement can  
Distinguish well betwixt a Goose and Swan:  
His word is like the Persian law, most free  
From various change, or mutability:  
He is religious, and doth wisely mark  
The door which leads unto the holy Ark.  
Four Rivers ran from Paradise: we find  
More virtues far spring from his noble mind:  
He ever soared with an ambitious wing,  
To serve his God, his Country, and his King:  
His actions are so full of life, that they  
Cannot neglected in oblivion die:  
He is both good, and great; and so may he  
Still great in goodness, good in greatness be.    

Sampson's Foxes.  

SAmpson did tail by tail Wild Foxes bind,  
And fastened Firebrands to them all behind:  
Thus er Hetick are joined, and go astray  
Linked in some antic, or preposterous way;  
They carry firebrands too, to set on fire  
The peaceful Kingdom: Let us all desire  
To quench this fire, and these wild beasts to tame,  
Else they will prove our ruin, and our shame.    

Upon a fair Gentlewoman, but ill qualified.  

THus have I seen, thus did I often know  
A filthy dunghill overlaid with snow.  
Here a fair Object stands before your eyes,  
Whose beauty a cold Hermit might surprise;  
She looks like Heaven, where good Angels dwell,  
Yet is within as dark, as black as Hell:  
Thus many trees appear both sound, and green,  
But at the heart they have been rotten seen:  
The sweet composure of her face doth say,  
She is an Angel, which assumes our clay;  
But scan her ways unlawful, and uncivil,  
And then you will proclaim her for a Devil:  
Fair weather in her lovely face we find,  
But clouds of sin in her deceitful mind.  
To make her fair within, good Lord impart  
Unto that comely face a gracious heart.    

Upon the Right Honourable HENRY Lord HERBERT, eldest Son and Heir to the Right Honourable EDWARD Marquis of Worcester. Est pater, & patriae gloria magna suae.  

ASk Fame the truth, and you shall fully know  
What noble virtues from this fountain flow:  
Whose precious soul is with more sweetness blest,  
Than the Arabian Phoenix spiced nest:  
His Christian heart, and tongue united be,  
And in the sphere of pious truth agree:  
No s●elling waves of pride, no pussing wind  
Disturb the calmness of his peaceful mind:  
His honest actions from foul rubs are free,  
Like Tempe that fair field of Thessaly.  
The Magnet could not show more constancy  
Unto the Northern Pole, or Star, than he  
Did to our King; He never could abide  
Like to a broken bow to start aside:  
His active power, his ever loving heart,  
Like old Barzillai, took King David's part.  
Have you observed a curious fabric, high,  
Composed of freestone, pleasant to the eye,  
And beautified within with works most pure  
Of gold and silver, and rich furniture?  
Thus grace, and nature framed him, so that I  
Am much too dull to write his Elegy:  
(Lord) from his eyes unhappy fears expel,  
His feet from falling keep, his soul from hell.    

The Bible; Arbor Vitae:  

MUch books I have perused, but I protest  
Of books the sacred Bible is the best,  
Some books may much of humane Learning boast  
But here's the Language of the Holy Ghost,  
Hence we draw living water, here we do  
Observe the Patriarches lives, and doctrine too:  
Here Christ himself directs us how to pray,  
And to the Gate of Heaven chalks the way.  
Here is the salve, which gives the blind their sight,  
All darkness to expel, here is the light:  
Here is strong meat for men; and milk to feed  
The weaker babes, which more perfection need;  
Cast off erroneous pamphlets, wanton rhymes,  
All feigned books of love; which cheat the times;  
And read this book of life; those shall appear  
With Christ in heaven which are written here,    

The Wedding garment.  

FAith is the wedding garment, lined within,  
With love, without foul spots, or stains of sin  
Humility is the most decent lace,  
And patiented hope, which doth this garment grace.  
Without this royal robe no guest is fit  
To sup, or at the Lords own table sit.    

The true Soldier. Est major, qui se, quam qui fortissima vinc Maenia—  

HE is a valiant man, and soldier brave  
Who can his passions in subjection have.  
Those which do conquer towns, shall never win  
The crown of life, unless they conquer sin.    

Strange Monsters.  

OF divers monsters I have sometimes read  
Some without feet, and some without a head.  
No fouler monsters can hot afric bring,  
Than rebels are without their head the King.    

Solitariness. I am become like a Pelicane in the wilderness, and like an Owl, that is in the desert, I have watched, and am even as it were a sparrow, that sitteth alone upon the house top: Psalm. 102. 6, 7.  

THe multitude, like some tempestuous wind▪  
Disturbs the contemplation of the mind:  
High meditat●ons do my soul possess,  
Like John the Bapist's, in a wilderness.  
When secret fields I tread, I do resuse  
The books of men, and Nature's books peruse.  
The glorious Sun, the Moon, the Stars so bright  
Are demonstrations of th' Eternal light.  
The Rainbow doth in the dark clouds declare,  
How great Gods Judgements, and his mercies are.  
Each herb, or flower, each living plant, or tree  
Present God's goodness, and his Majesty:  
I see the Lilleys grow, and then admire  
God's wisdom in their pure, and rich attire;  
God seeds the Raven, which no● reap, nor sow,  
By these God's gracious providence I ●now;  
When lo the lofty hills I lift mine eyes,  
I speak of heaven in soliloquies.  
The stream, whose constant motion never stays.  
Argues the swift Procession of my days:  
i travel to my grave, till life is done,  
As rivers do unto the Ocean run.  
When I behold the Larked advance her wing,  
And to our God a thankful Anthem sing.  
I check my nature, and can do no less  
Than tax myself of dull unthankfulness.  
Such holy raptures with my soul agree,  
When in the world I from the world am free.  
The further I from worldly men remove,  
I draw the nearer to the God of Love:    

The Virgin Mary. From henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.  

MOst blessed is (thou son of man) the breast,  
Which thou didst suck, & the chaste womb is blest.  
Which bore thee, when thou didst our nature wed,  
No sinful lust defiled thy marriage bed  
None was so gracious, as the Virgin Mary,  
God's holy Temple, and his Sanctuary.  
As father's hold, her blessing did consist  
More in believing, than in bearing Christ.    

Old age Delirium naturae.  

When we are young, and do enjoy the spring  
Of pleasant youth, we laugh we dance, we sing  
And think, old age, which is so cold, so sour,  
Will never come to blast our youthful flower.  
As some dark cloud invades the sky so fair,  
And by degrees obscures the clearest air.  
Old age thus creepeth on; and turns our light,  
Or Summer's day into a winter night.  
Our Limbs are turned to ice, our hair to snow;  
Our windows dark and dull, our feet are slow,  
Our Roses languish, and our Lilleys fade,  
Our wine is soured, our pleasures bitter made.  
Jove's tree the sturdy oak, the Cedar tall  
In length of time are forced to stoop, and fall.  
Remember God, whilst thou art young, and he  
When thou art old, will sure remember thee:    

Upon the golden Grove in the County of Carmarthin, the habitation of the Right Honourable the Lord Vauhan, Earl of Carbery, now Lord Precedent of the Marches of Wales.  

IF I might, where I pleased, compose my nest,  
The golden Grove should be my constant rest.  
This curious fabric might make us believe  
That Angels there, or men like Angels live,  
I must commend the outside; but within  
Not to admire, it were almost a sin.  
Of fertile ground the large circumference  
With admiration may confound the sense;  
Which ground, if things were rightly understood,  
From Paradise came tumbling in the Flood,  
And there the water left it, therefore we  
Find here of pleasures such variety.  
Wise Nature here did strive, and witty Art  
To please the curious eye, and longing heart.  
The neighbouring river Towyd oath o'erflow,  
Like pleasant Nilus the rich Meads below.  
Hence come great store, and various kind of fish  
So good, as may enrich the empty dish.  
Fowls thither flock, as if they thought it fit,  
They should present themselves unto the spit.  
Here gardens are composed, so sweet, so fair  
With fragrant flowers as do perfume the air.  
Hard by a grove doth stand, which doth defeat  
Cold winter storms, and the dry Summer's heat.  
Their merry birds their pleasant Carols sing,  
Like sweet Musicians to the wanton spring.  
There are parks, orchards, warrens, fish ponds, spring▪  
Each soot of ground some curious object brings:  
There lives a noble Earl, free, just and wise,  
In whom the Elixir of perfection lies.  
His heart is good as balsam, pure as gold,  
Wise, as a Serpent, as a Lion bold:    

The righteous is confident as a Lion: Pro. 28.  

THe guilty conscience fears, when there's no fear,  
And thinks, that every bush contains a bear;  
When none pursues, the wicked flies, and still  
Distractions alter his confused will:  
The righteous man sits in his peaceful chair  
Secure from fears, and free from black despair.  
His resolution like a Virgin pure  
He keeps unspotted, and can well endure  
The burden of affliction: for the cross  
Makes trial, whether he be gold or dross.  
The righteous sheltered under heaven's wing  
Like the three children in the fire may sing.  
For God will broach the rocks, and Manna rain  
He'll bring the quails together to sustain  
His chosen people: Lions hunger may,  
And want; but he that ●reads a virtuous way,  
Shall never fear a famine: God is able  
In the wild deserts to prepare a table.  
The Devil will destroy, the flesh infect,  
The world deceive, unless that God protect.    

Upon the Right Honourable Lady, the Lady, Mary Beauchamp of Edington, in the County of Wilts: Romana vivit clarior Iliâ.  

A Dwarf may on a giant look; and I  
May speak of her, whose merits are so high.  
Count all the various flowers of May; declare,  
Of stars what number by creation are.  
This may be sooner done, than you can tell  
What sacred virtues in this Temple dwell.  
Would you find bounty? or do you desire  
To see Religion in his best attire.  
Would you know meekness, charity and love,  
Which are the touchstones, that our faith doth prove.  
These virtues are included in her breast,  
Like precious Jewels in a golden chest.  
Her kindred, neighbours, tenants, and the poor,  
Yea, strangers do frequent, and bless her door.  
Twixt her and Saints I do no difference know,  
But this, they are above, and she below.  
And if all had so pure a mind as she,  
Heaven on earth, and earth would heaven be.    

Upon the honourable Gentlewoman Mrs. Jane Lane, who was by God's providence a most happy Instrument to convey our Sovereign Lord King Charles out of the hands of Rebels from England to Holland.  

HAve you observed the sun sometimes to shroud  
His glorious head, and lustre in a cloud?  
Thus God was pleased to hid our gracious King  
Under a woman's most auspicious wing.  
'Tis strange a woman could so silent be  
In things of moment, and great secrecy.  
She was the weaker vessel; God thought fit  
To make her weak in strength, but strong in wit.  
To save her Country Holofernes head  
Brave Judith cut off on his wanton bed;  
But many traitorous hands did vex this Nation,  
Which Jane cut off by Charles his preservation.  
Let noble Ladies sing, and Virgins dance  
Before this Judith our deliverance.  
Praise God for this High-work, and be content  
To honour her, as Gods great instrument.  
No fading garland of sweet flowers, or bays.  
Shall crown her head, but everlasting praise.    

GRACE.. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

Sin like a giant doth encounter me,  
Nor am I from his proud controlment free:  
To kill this great Goliath, (gracious King)  
〈◊〉 thy grace instead of David's sling.  
Jordan may help, and Siloam's pool may cure  
Carnal diseases: but thy fountain pure  
Of saving grace, when I do faint, or pine,  
Doth heal my soul without fine oil, or wine;  
Grace is the shield of my defence; the light,  
Which guides my feet through this dark vale of night.  
When friends, and riches leave me, that alone  
Conducts me from the grave to heaven's throne.  
I fear no Devils through God's grace, nor men,  
No fiery oven, nor the Lion's den.    

Upon the Honourable Lady, the Lady Elinor Williams of Gwernivet, Daughter to the most hospitable, and worthy Gentleman Eustance Whitney of Whitney Court Esq  

Tell me no more, what noble Ladies have  
Secured their names by virtues from the grave.  
For if you knew the Lady, you would swear  
No other star moved in so high a sphere.  
Her virtues do like purest fountains flow,  
Which no defect, or diminution know;  
The number of her years a man may guess,  
But not her virtues; they are numberless:  
If there be one, she is the Phoenix true,  
Who doth her virtues, not her years renew:  
When Heretics did think the Church to smother,  
She was to Churchmen a kind nursing-mother.  
Her lamp did burn, nor could the wicked rout  
With all their blasts put her bright candle out.  
He husband was Sir Henry, that wise Knight,  
Who was our British glory, and our light;  
From these two stocks grew branches great and fair,  
Which keep the poor from the tempestuous a●●:  
This noble Lady is the only crown,  
Which honour gave, and made our Country known.  
To other Ladies she may well dispense  
With beams of virtue from her influence.  
The goodness of her language doth betray  
Some Angel dwelled within that house of clay;  
Our country by her absence, we confess,  
Is worse in comfort, and in honour less:    

Contentment. Ex animorem stare aequum puto, non animum ex re.  

SAD discontent like some unwholesome blast  
The fairest blossoms, and best fruit thou hast,  
Will soon destroy: Like leaven it will sour  
The lump of all thy joys: No golden shower  
Can help the wounded conscience, and no Art,  
But only grace can cure the cankered heart:  
O sweet contentment, from which spring do flow  
Pure streams of joy: when I am poor, and low,  
Thou make'st me rich; when sick without relief,  
Thou art the balsam to expel my grief.  
I do not long for Quails, or dainty fish,  
To court my  with a curious dish.  
I am no slave to gold; an empty chest  
Disquiets not my conscience, nor my rest:  
I am not puffed in mind: ambitious eyes  
Look often higher than their merits rise.  
My clothes shall decent be, not gay: I doubt,  
What v●lver slippers, cannot cure the gout,  
Nor can a golden crown the headache cure,  
〈◊〉 purple Robes from Fevers us secure.  
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 freedom: yet strong prison can  
〈◊〉 the bad, and not the 〈◊〉 man?  
Imprisonment, sickness, persecution, loss,  
Are but the chips of Christ his sacred cross:  
I am content; nor do I greatly care,  
Whether the heavens fair, or cloudy are.    

I am the true Vine, John. 15. 1.  

CHrist is the fruitful Vine, whereon doth grow  
Clusters of mercies, which no number know.  
Hence we receive such active cups of wine  
As mortals make immortal, and divine.  
The Vine is cut, and pruned; so Christ was to●ne  
His hands, and feet with nails, his head with tho●n●  
In malice they were ripe, and did not fear  
To pierce his side with a presumptuous spear,  
Hence flowed the Sacraments, as from a spring  
Of lively waters, saving health to bring.    

Upon the fair, charitable, and piously devoted Gentlewoman Mrs. Marry Jeff●eys t●e wise of John Jeffreys Esq.  

WOuld you the model of perfection find?  
Or take a copy of a pious mind?  
Behold this Lady, where such virtues dwell,  
That Phenix-like she hath no parallel.  
She hath a dovelike nature, pride, and she  
Can never meet, there's such Antipathy.  
She's rich in beauty, rich in purse, and free,  
Her riches most consist in piety:  
When other Lady's sport, and laugh, and prate,  
She with her prayers knocks o● heaven's gate:    

Upon the Right Honourable John Lord Scuda more Viscount Slego, qui profunditates pinu● pictatis ●rarium, nec non nobilitatis, Splendour maximus: He loveth our Nation, and hath built us a Synagogue, Luk. 7. 5.  

CAn I be safe, or from presumption free,  
That will attempt to climb so high a tree?  
Whose 〈◊〉 doth reach to heaven; and hath made  
Sad Christians joyful with his pleasant shade:  
He is no barren figtree which deceives,  
And gives instead of fruits, but fading leaves.  
Who knows his pious mind, or spirit knows  
A sea of virtues, which ne'er ebbs, but flows.  
〈◊〉, Religion, wisdom in his breast  
〈◊〉 their centre fixed, do safely rest.  
〈◊〉 is noble actions run like purer ore  
In a rich vein, and still increase their store.  
An ancient Temple ruin'd lay in dust,  
And was consumed by times all eating rust  
Those heaps of stones he did erect. and raise  
Pillars of honour to uphold God's praise.  
If this weak child, my li●●le book should peace,  
The stones to speak his worth would never cease.  
David was blest, because he thought to build,  
Here's one not only thought, but hath fulfilled.  
He did not only this fair building frame,  
But with revenues he enriched the same.  
He thought it not a blessing, but a curse,  
To rob the Church, and so to fill his purse.  
The Eagle burned her nest with that same coal,  
Which she had newly from the altar stole.  
A stolen sheaf, or sacrilegious meat  
Into our wealth will like a canker eat.  
He ne'er defiled his heart, nor stained his hands.  
With plundered goods, or with illgotten lands.  
Who writes his charity, and love, must bring  
A quill from heaven's winged Cherubin.  
No wonder then, that this fair Cedar stands,  
When others are cut down by cruel hands.  
Afflictions daunt him not, but make him bold,  
He fears no fire, whose metal is of gold.  
God goes before him like a cloud by day,  
And fire by night to guide, and guard his way.  
Although Hom-Lacy may afford him pleasure,  
Yet Abbey Dower will bring the richest treas●r●.  
O that my muse could spice his precious fame,  
And add perfume unto his sweeter name.    

Ad eundem nobilissimum virum Do●i●●m Scudamore, vice comitem de Slego, te●g● minis dignum honoribus.  

FErtilis est tell us, quae dicitur Aurea Vall●s,  
Sed magis est donis Aurea facta tuis  
Saxorum cumulus fuerat, confusaque moles,  
Quae bene composita est (te renovante) domus  
Ornatur variis Ecclesia sancta columnis  
Fixastat in laudes quaeque columna tuas.  
Vndique conspicuis splendescit plena fenestris,  
Et nitet in toto sorma decora loco.  
Si sileant hominum linguae, preconia famae  
Cantabit lapidum religiosa cohors  
Sed non testimulat quaerendi nominis ardor  
Cura tibi est sacri gloria sola Dei  
Splendorem (venerande) tuum mea vota sequentur,  
Et constans vivo nominis umbra tui:    

The Soul. What will it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul? Mat. 16. 26.  

BRight are the pearls of dew: the goldiss pure,  
Tried in the fire, and from all dross secure.  
White is the untouched snow: the light is fair  
Which guilds the day, and clears the cloudy air.  
These to the soul compared, are dark, and vain,  
Which doth more beauty, sweetness, worth contain.   

I do respect my garden, and take heed  
No poisonous herb may grow, no stinking weed.  
I love my actions just, my words complete,  
My body clean, my garment fair and neat;  
But yet my chiefest care, and study here,  
Is to preserve my soul, and conscience clear.   

I am ambitious of an honest fame,  
And to preserve the candour of my name.  
My wife and children, and my friend I love,  
These are strong ties, which may affection move.  
These are delights, but my delight is most,  
To watch my soul, lest that rich pearl be lost.   

Lord, let me feed on bread of cares, and fears,  
And let me wash my bed with constant tears.  
Let me be subject to all storms, and wind,  
And for my bed let me a dung on find.  
Do, what thou wilt, (sweet Lord) I'll take it well,  
Only preserve myself from death, and hell.   

What if I heard the music of the spheres,  
And sweetest Anthems to content the ears?  
What if I had strong wines, delicious meat,  
And all the pleasures I could taste or eat?  
All this is gall, unless the soul is free,  
Which is more dear than twenty worlds to me.    

The Marigold. Heliotropium, sive Solisequium est anima mea, quae sequitur solem Justitiae, non naturae.  

THE loving Marigold his leaves displays,  
Glad to receive the Sun's all warming rays.  
But when the absent Sun denies relief,  
The flower contracted seems to die for grief:  
While the bright Sun of glory shines on me,  
My soul is in a joyful ecstasy.  
But when he hides his gracious face of love,  
I cannot truly be, nor live, nor move:    

MUSIC. Non clamans, sed amans psallit in aure D●●.  

AMphion's music was so rare,  
That with him no man might compare,  
And Orpheus with his silver string  
Did stones, and trees together bring.  
But when I sigh, or weep, or pray,  
I sweeter music make than they.   

All things were framed by God above,  
And all things do in union move.  
They say no music to the ears,  
Is like the music of the spheres.  
But yet to me it doth appear  
No music's like the conscience clear.    

SIN. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

WHat cloud is this, that makes it night,  
And robs me of eternal light?  
Lord, in this darkness I can see  
No path, which leads my soul to thee.  
O Sun of glory make it day.  
And chase these clouds of sin away:    

PRAYER. V●corpus est mortuum sine anima, sic anima sine oratione.  

THe morning is the insancy of day,  
Which claims chaste thoughts, & calls the heart to pray.  
When night puts on her black and dark attire,  
Let prayer kindle thee with holy fire.  
A faithful prayer pleaseth God: and turns  
His wrath to mercy, when his anger burns.  
It is a welcome sacrifice to God,  
For man a salve, and for the devil a rod;  
Without the wings of prayer none can fly  
To heaven's throne, where pleasures never die.  
Prayers the Key which opens heaven's door:  
From whence all blessings fall on rich and poor.  
It is the key, which looks the gates of hell,  
Whence evils come, where all discomforts dwell:  
In prayer bend thy knees, ●nd heart, for he  
Doth make his heart more stiff, that spares his knee:  
Who God forgets, and doth neglect to pay,  
Is still in travel, never in the way:    

A FRIEND. Rara avis in terris.  

WHere shall I find a friend? I may as soon  
Find out the man which dwelleth in the moon.  
The ancient days are past: when men did move  
Within the sphere of undeceiving love:  
Friendship is in these days respectless grown,  
Like some old matron in a threadbare gown:  
There is a feigned friendship, which doth pass  
Sometimes for pearl, and is but painted glass.  
Some undermine, who seem like friends to stand,  
These have the voice of Jacob; Esau's hand;  
Others will smooth you with a fair discourse,  
And give you talk enough, but keep the purse  
A perfect friend is not in love so cold,  
That he will lose his friend to save his gold.  
Thou art my friend (sweet Lord) who dost refresh  
My weary soul; I trust no arm of flesh.    

The Saints of God. Sanctitas nobis non per meritum sed per gratiam impu●atur.  

THe nearer we approach to God; the more  
We find our imperfections, and de●lo●e  
Our frail estate: our weakness best we ●ee  
In the fair glass of God's great Majesty:  
The stars are glorious bodies, and by night  
Do gild the world with their resplendent light.  
But they are dull, and never do appear,  
When once the sun shines in our Hemisphere.  
The Sons of God, the children of the day,  
Excel the rest in beauty: but when they  
Behold God's glory with a serious mind,  
They nothing in themselves, but darkness find.  
The righteous do condemn themselves, and spy  
Beams, in their own, not in their brother's eye.  
None keeps the paper of his life so white,  
But he will sometimes blot, as well as write.  
If th' heavens are not clean, nor Angels pure  
In God's account; who is from sin secure?  
Therefore God's Saints are from presumption free,  
Their faith is clothed with works of charity.  
Grant me (sweet Lord) a righteous life, than I,  
The precious death of thy dear Saints shall die.    

Peter's denial. Angelus cecidit▪ licet in caelo; Adam cecidit▪ licet in Paradiso▪ & Petrus cecidit licet in Scholâ Christi.  

ARt thou the Rock, where Christ his Church would build,  
Yet when thy master fights, thou leav'st the field?  
No wonder if weak buildings be cast down  
With boisterous winds, when rocks are overthrown;  
Where was thy courage, when the Lamb did stand  
Before the Wolf, left to his furious hand?  
Wouldst how sorsake thy Saviour, swear and ban,  
In all thy life thou never knewst the man?  
Lord, leave me not unto myself, lest I  
Fall from the faith, and thy great name deny.  
I hear a waring-peece, the Cock doth crow,  
And Peter feels his sad condition now:  
He doth repent his curses, oaths, and fears,  
In the sad language of his flowing tears.  
Let not my fountains cease, nor tears be few;  
Tears are the Angel's joy, and Heaven's dew.    

God's Providence: Deus est in Angelis per gloriam, in Electis per gratiam, in omnibus per providentiam.  

THe Lilies do not spend the weary day  
In spinning thread to make their clothes more gay:  
Yet Solomon had no such rich attire,  
Whom all the world for glory did admire.  
The Ravens have no barn to store their grain,  
They do not sow, nor reap with careful pain;  
Yet God feeds them. If he the birds do feed,  
And cloth the grass, he will sustain my need  
With greater love: I never will despair;  
When all is spent, God will my stock repair.    

Upon the Honourable Colonel Sir Herbert Prise Baronet, Master of the Household to His Majesty Charles the Second. Est major, quàm cui passit fortuna nocere.  

SOme wavering men, like reeds with every wind,  
Are shaken to and fro: The various mind  
Dislikes no weather; be it foul, or fair,  
He hath a cloak fit for the present air:  
Such like the Cynic will their tubs remove  
From place to place, and still the sunshine love.  
On these unconstant worldlings I do look,  
As on the image in the Prophet's book;  
The head of gold, of silver th'arms and breast,  
The thighs and belly were of brass; the rest  
As legs and feet, of iron were, and clay;  
The image fell, and mouldered all away:  
So wavering men, who use no constant Creed  
From good to bad, from bad to worse proceed.  
But here is one, who like a Martyr ran,  
And held throughout the course he first began:  
No strong temptations, threatening, swords or gold,  
Can flat his resolution; he ne'er sold  
His love for gain; his heart was firm and stable  
Unto his King, as th' Anchor to the Cable:  
So stands the stately Pine, which rooted fast  
And deep in earth, disdains the weaker blast.  
To make one perfect, Nature never could  
Have formed a man in a more decent mould:  
But wiser men neglect the outward shell,  
And praise his braver soul, where virtues dwell:  
His sole ambition, rightly understood,  
Is only to be known not great, but good:  
His actions are so just, that you'd protest  
Astraea dwelled within his sacred breast.  
With unclipt wings let may Ambition fly,  
As his desires are good, his merits high!    

GRACE.. Qui quaerit, invenit.  

MEn dig the bowels of the earth for gold,  
And rocks for precious stones; and some are bold  
To dive into the sea for pearl: Few care  
To get the pearl of Grace, more rich, more rare.  
The Manna, and the Quails were dainty meat,  
And as delicious as a man could eat;  
But taste the food of Grace, and thou shalt find  
It yields a better relish to thy mind:  
Grace makes the poor man rich, the bline to see,  
The sad man full of joy, the bondman free;  
Weak humane thoughts it turns to thoughts divine;  
As Christ at Cana watet turned to wine;  
It sweetens all conditions, rich and poor,  
Like some pure incense, and preserves thy store.    

A good Report. Honestus rumor optimum est patrimonium: Qui malè facit, malè audit.  

DO not neglect the candour of thy Name,  
Thou shouldst not slain thy clothes, much less thy fame:  
Fine houses men will build, repair and trim,  
And keep them neat without; and fair with in;  
But little they regard, if by foul ways  
●hey blot their names, and flubber o'er their days:  
Such men in life are odious, and shall be  
In death a scandal to posterity.  
I'll tread a righteous path ●ia good Report  
Makes men live long, although their life is short.    

Sampson's Riddle; Out of the strong cam● sweet.  

CHrist was the Lamb, Christ was the Lion slain,  
To save our souls from everlasting pain:  
From Judab's Lion all sweet pleasures flow;  
No mercies but from him we have, or know.  
He was a Lion mighty, strong in power,  
Before he could Death, Satan, Hell devour.    

A Dark Lantern.  

THis Lantern is but dull, and dark in sight,  
As if it had not the least spark of light●  
The light is closed within, which none can spy  
Or well discern, unless the curious eye:  
So good men care not that the world should know  
How good they are, by any outward show.  
Thus Cabinets appear but mean, and plain,  
Yet many times rich pearl and gold contain:  
Thus the best Wine that ever you can wish,  
Is often tasted in an earthen dish.  
Some look like holy Temples, when they are  
Like graves within defiled with rotten ware:  
Of my weak deeds I will no trumpet sound;  
The heart is humble, where good gifts abound.    

Man's Infirmity.  

WIse Adam fell in Paradise; the good  
Angels in Heaven fell, who always stood  
In Gods own presence; Faithful Peter fell,  
Though in Christ's school he was brought up so well;  
David committed murder; righteous Lot  
Defiled his name with an incestuous blot:  
No Oak so strong, no Cedar is so tall,  
But shaken with tempestuous wind may fall;  
No man so perfect is, so pure a Saint,  
But in the battle he may fail and faint,  
(If God prevents not:) Man, that's born to sorrow,  
May safely stand to day, and fall to morrow.    

The Common people. Neutrum modò, mas modo vulgus.  

THe many-headed Hydra, or the People,  
Now build the Church, then pull down Bells and Steeple:  
To day for learned Bishops, and a King,  
They shout with one consent; to morrow sing  
A different note: One while the people cry  
To Christ Hosanna; then him crucify:  
And thus the wavering multitude will be  
Constant in nothing but inconstancy:  
When these together swarm, the Kingdom fears;  
They are as fierce as Tigers, rude as Bears.    

The Rock in Horeb.  

ONce only Moses with his sacred rod  
The Rock in Horeb strucks, as he by God  
Commanded was; then waters gushed and fell  
From the hard Rock, as from a running Well.  
Lord, thou didst often strike me, never kill;  
Thy rod was gentle, I am stubborn still:  
Soften my stony heart, that tears may flow:  
None reap in joy, but those in tears that sow.    

The holy Sepulchre.  

CHrist is our Rock, who in a rock is lain,  
The lesser rock the greater doth contain:  
Out of a rock they newly hewed his grave,  
The new man Christ thus a new tomb must have:  
No creature might repose or lay his head,  
Without presumption, in the Creator's bed:  
The Lily of the valley, Sharon's Rose,  
His fragrant grave in a sweet garden chose.  
This Rock did shelter Christ two days; but he  
An everlasting Refuge is to me:  
He is the Rock, that doth our souls relieve  
With water, which doth life eternal give.    

The Passing-Bell.  

THe Passing-Bell doth toll; my thread is spun,  
My candle is burnt out, my hourglass run:  
This sound is doleful, and this music's sad  
To those which in the world are rich, and bad;  
It is like David's music, sweet to me,  
Which doth my soul from evil spirits free:  
I end my life, and yet to live begin;  
I shall in glory live, who lived in sin.    

The Spiritual Watchman. Nulla venit sine te nox mihi, nulla dies.  

WHen private in my bed I take my rest.  
I muse on all the gifts, wherewith God blest,  
And made me glad. The thankful man alone  
Climbs jacob's ladder, and ascends God's throne;  
I think on heaven's joys, and do admire  
Of Saints, and Angels the harmonious choir:  
Sometimes I think of hell; where rich men lie  
In deadly torments, and yet cannot die.  
My life I call to m●nd; which God hath made  
Short like a span, vain as a dream, or shade;  
This night may be my last, and I may have  
My sheet to be my should, my bed my grave.  
I count past sins, which so defile my soul,  
That on the dunghill Job was not so foul,  
These holy thoughts possess my serious head,  
Till tears run down, and wash my careful bed.    

LOVE. Amor est complementum legis.  

OUr God is love, who doth remain in love  
In the same sphere with God himself doth move.  
All things by perfect nature do agree,  
And seem to hold a mutual sympathy:  
The heavens to love their inclination show,  
Which fairly do embrace this orb below.  
The fire, the water, earth, and air agree,  
And by kind nature intermixed be.  
Love doth fulfil the law; love conquers sin,  
And makes a man an earthly Cherubin  
Faith▪ patience, hope, all virtues rightly ●kand,  
Without pure love like barren fig trees stand.  
With perfect love are sweetest graces seen,  
Like maids of honour waiting on the Queen.  
Love is the wedding-garment; and no guest  
Without this robe shall taste the royal feast.  
Invest me Lord, with love, make thou me able,  
And fit to feast with ●ngels at thy Table    

Upon the Right Worshipful: Sir Henry Lingen Knight of Stoke in Herefordshire. Nulli pietate secundus.  

MY trumpet is too dull, and weak to sound  
His meritorious praise: as in rich ground,  
Most pleasant springs, sweet flowers, and herbs we find,  
So virtues are consistent in his mind.  
He's constant in the faith, and he doth hate  
Old truth with errors to sophisticate.  
Such valour he expressed that men should raise  
A stately Pyramidet ' advance his praise.  
His hands were active, and his heart was free  
In loyal actions from Apostasy  
He strives not to climb high; a gentle tide  
Thus have I seen within his channel sl●de,  
His actions are so clear to each man's sight,  
As the pure Topaz, or the Chrysolite.  
All hearts to him, as to their Loadstone move,  
For he's the Centre of his country's love.  
By all his virtuous ways it doth appear,  
His soul in heaven is, his body here.    

The Sluggard. Otia corrumpunt animum.  

WHen God did Adam with all pleasures bless,  
He was to labour, and the garden dress.  
God made man active, those fair orbs above  
Do wheel about, and without ceasing move.  
The running stream is sweet, and can impart  
A wholesome draught unto a thirsty heart.  
But standing pools more dark and foul appear,  
Nor can they be from bad infections clear;  
So labour whet● the soul, and clears the mind,  
By active fire our metal is refined.  
An idle life a sad condition breeds,  
Who sits, when he should travel, never speeds.  
Look how the painful Bee unto her hive  
Brings the pure honey▪ and doth daily thrive.  
And the laborious Ant with careful pain  
Doth treasure up in summer time her grain.  
So she prevents the famine, and doth live  
All winter in delight, and never grieve.  
The Sluggard folds his arms, and then doth say,  
I fear, there is a Lion in the way:  
Thus in the end both poverty and shame  
Consumes his body, and obscures his name.  
God is a husbandman, he doth require  
All men to work, no penny else, no hire.    

To his much Honoured friend Mr. John Williams the most pious, and learned Minister, and Vicar of Devynnock, and Luel.  

IN printed leaves for you I need not look,  
I have learned you by heart without the book.  
Had I forgotten you, I had been rude  
And guilty of most base ingratitude:  
If I had power equal to my mind,  
You should an honest friend, and servant find.  
But envious fortuné hath so clipped my wing,  
That I can nothing but affection bring,  
I may more large in lands by fortune prove,  
But no condiiton can enlarge my love.  
The heavens blest you with a plenteous hand,  
That you your friends can help, your foes command.    

The Blackamoors.  

WE many men from Mauritania see  
To England come, as black, as Ravens be;  
Into yourselves look with a curious eye,  
And you shall find you are more black than they.  
Then wonder not at them so black in skin  
But at yourselves so foul, so black by sin.    

Peace and War.  

PEace is like salt which seasons all our meat,  
Till envious war●e doth poison all we eat.  
War like the horseleech calls for humane blood;  
And ruins all th●ngs like the unruly flood;  
Or raging fire: I do prefer by far  
An unjust peace before the justest war:  
Welcome sweet peace, which makes all things complete  
And gives us grapes from our own vines to eat.  
That land is blest, and hath a golden day  
Where Drums, and trumpets cease, and Organs play.  
Peace breedeth plenty, war consumes a nation,  
Peace bringeth joy, war causeth Lamentation.  
Pray to the God of peace, that we may have  
The love, and peace of God unto the grave.    

HOPE. Qui nihil sperat, desperet nihil.  

I'm black, 'tis true: but yet no sad despair  
Shall me persuade, that I shall ne'er be fair.  
Transform hard stones the God of power can,  
And make them children unto Abraham.  
To turn my heart of stone, God knows the way,  
Into a heart of flesh without delay:  
My sore disease is not so great, or foul,  
That there's no balsam; which can heal my soul;  
Come true Samaritan, come sacred Dove,  
And in my soul, as in thy Temple move.    

To the most incomparable, wise, and virtuous Lady, the Lady Goditha Prise, Lady to the Honourable Colonel, Sir Herbert Prise Knight.  

AS I do live, I wonder how you can  
Forget your sex, and be so much a man!  
In wit, and judgement; nay, you are divine  
Transcending far our nature masculine.  
As you are fair, so you disdain the rude,  
And sluttish nature of the multitude.  
They say, Promitheus stole from heaven fire,  
And brought it down weak mortals to inspire,  
If it be now on earth, I do protest  
That heavenly fire lies in your sacred breast.  
Who writes of you, or gives you greatest praise,  
To your high worth shall but a molehill raise.    

Upon the same most excellent Lady, the Lady Goditha Prise.  

HAve you observed a garden fair, and sweet  
Where whelsome herbs, and pleasant flowers do meet  
So doth her mind no imperfection know,  
Where graces do like grapes in clusters grow:  
If you with serious eyes desire to see  
The model of most perfect charity.  
Or if in earnest you desire to find  
Religion seated in a humble mind.  
Or would you know, where holy patience dwells,  
When grace, and truth all discontent expels;  
Then her behold who lives, as if with John  
She had Christ's sacred bosom leaned upon.  
In tears, and prayers she doth sin bemoan  
And each day nearer steps to heaven's throne.    

The mortified Christian.  

I From the world's deceitful snares am free,  
They were but cobwebs, which entangled me,  
All worldly mirth is madness; get away  
You bad companions, which misspend the day.  
Leave me alone, I ne'er am less alone,  
Than when in private by myself I moon.  
I love no dainties, which procure delight,  
Nor curious sauce to whet the appetite.  
Nature is spon contented: give me meat,  
That I may live, let me not live to eat.  
I wear no silk, fine linen, rich attire  
To make me proud, or burn with wanton fire;  
Rough sackcloth, or some homely weed I love,  
Which my poor heart to humble thoughts may move.  
I pray in Temples, meadows, woods; each place  
Invites my soul to call for saving grace:  
All sins by constant prayer conquered be,  
So conquer them, else they will conquer thee.    

The new illiterate Lay-Teachers. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

WHy trouble you religions sacred stream,  
And tear Christ's coat, which had no rent, or seam?  
And you do patch it too with ragged clouts  
Of false opinions, and fantastic doubts.  
The skilful husbandman must till, and sow,  
That grounds ill dressed, where blind men hold the plough  
Now in the Temple every saucy Jack  
Opens his shop, and shows his pedlars pack.  
Instead of candles we enjoy the snuff,  
For precious balm we have but kitchen stuff.  
The ruder sort are by these teachers led,  
Who acorns eat, and might have better bread;  
If this a propagation shall be found,  
These build the house, which pull it to the gr●un●;  
This is mere Hocuspocus; a sttange slight,  
By putting candles out, to gain more light.  
Mad men by virtue of this propagation,  
Have Bedlam left, and preached for Reformation.  
And they might well turn preachers, for we had  
Many that were more foolish, and more mad.  
The Tinkar being one of excellent mettle,  
Gins to sound his doctrine with his Kettle.  
And the laborious ploughman I bewail,  
Who now doth thresh the Pulpit with his flail.  
The lousy Tailor with his holy thimble  
Doth patch a sermon up most quick and nimble.  
He doth his skill, and wisdom much express,  
When with his goose he doth the Scripture press.  
The Chandler now a man of light we find,  
His candle leaves a stinking snuff behind.  
The Apothecary, who can give a glister  
Unto a holy brother or a sister;  
Hath one dram of the spirit, and can pray,  
Or preach, and make no scruple of his way.  
Thus false coin doth for currant money pass,  
And precious stones are valued less than glass.  
Not disputation, but a rigid law  
Must keep these frantic sectarists in awe.  
The itch of disputation will break out  
Into a scab of error; which without  
Some speedy help will soon infect and run  
Through all the flock, where it hath once begun,  
I will take heed in these bad times, and care  
To shut my shop, but keep my constant ware.  
Lord let thy tender vine no longer bleed,  
Call h●me thy shepherds which thy lambs may feed:    

A Prayer to the Holy Ghost.  

O Holy Spirit, O most sacred Dove,  
Which didst descend upon the Son of Love;  
Descend upon my soul, that I may be  
Simple, as Doves without malignity!  
O holy Fire, inflame my lukewarm heart,  
And better heat of love divine impart!  
O holy Fire, O thou Eternal Light,  
Expel the clouds of everlasting night!  
O holy Fire, let my soul purged be  
From all her dross, as purest gold is free!  
O holy Fire, dissolve my heart, like wax,  
Which nothing but thy fair impression lacks!  
O holy Fire, vouchsafe in me to dwell,  
And keep my soul from the strange fire of hell!    

Antipathy.  

I Love him not; but show no reason can  
Wherefore, but this, I do not love the man.    

Astrology. To the profound and learned Gentleman, Mr. Vincent Wing; Qui Naturae Aruspex intimus, Atlas physicus, nec non sensus & rationis stupendus Arbiter.  

WIse men believe, inferior bodies move  
By dispensation from those Orbs above:  
Stars do not force, or by compulsion cause  
Our Natures to obey their constant laws.  
Who se●●●s the God of power, that made the spheres,  
No sad 〈…〉 pse or constellation fears;  
Where unctuous Reason guides not, but the Sense,  
There 〈◊〉 have their greatest influence:  
God did the 〈◊〉 the Moon, and Stars bestow,  
Which do the course 〈◊〉 and seasons show:  
‛ 'Gainst Sisera in the●● order sought the stars,  
And helped God's people in their prosperous wars.  
When Christ himself was born, a star did bring  
And guide the wise men to find out their King:  
And wise men still in stars a virtue find,  
Which is kept secret from the duller mind:  
Into brave spirits a pure light descends,  
Which heavy darkness never comprehends.  
I cannot call the stars by name, nor tract  
The Sun through twelve signs of the Zodiac:  
Arcturus with his sons outgo my sense,  
So do the Pleyades with their influence:  
From the Pole-Artick what degrees there be  
Unto th' Antartique is unknown to me:  
Our Z●nyth is too high for me to know  
What things are there, our Nadyr is too low:  
I do not understand how Planets move,  
And differ in their several Orbs above.  
The Circle from the Stars reflection may  
Escape my knowledge called the milky way:  
Such knowledge is too deep; but yet I will  
A 〈◊〉 the path of that mysterious skill.    

Solomon's Memento: Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, Eccles. 12. 1.  

DO not misspend thy golden youth, and bring  
The dross of thy old age of serve thy King.  
Do not neglect the morning of thy days,  
And think the evening fit thy God to praise:  
God early must be sought; the longer we  
Persist in sin, the stronger sin will be:  
From vice to virtue turn, from bad to good;  
The deeper still he sinks, who stands in mud.  
A nail, the further it is driven in,  
The harder is drawn out; and so is sin.  
None can foretell how long the fatal glass  
Shall run, or else how soon the sand will pass.  
Delay no time; that man will shrink and sear,  
Who lays the burden on old age to bear:  
Because the foolish Virgins came too late,  
They heaven lost, for Christ had shut the gate.  
Should we be old, are we then sure to store  
Our sold with grace, which we refused before?  
Through mire and dirt, who travels all the day,  
Will hardly go by night a cleaner way:  
The Tenant which neglects th'appointed day,  
Forfeit his lease, and fret his Landlord may.    

Upon the Right Worshipful, Sir Francis Floyd Knight, Sou to the most eloquent, pious, learned, and honourable Judge, Sir Marmaduke Floyd Knight.  

Virtue can never be concealed; her flame  
Shines bright, and will disclose a virtuous name:  
A brave report of his great worth we hear  
As loud as thunder in our Hemisphere:  
Contagious times could never make a spot  
On his fair clothes, or his white paper blot;  
He could not flatter, or affect the crime  
To temporize, or smooth the ruder time;  
Fixed in his station like a losty hill  
He simply stood, and scorned to change his will:  
I wish he may enjoy fair Haltion days,  
And Heaven bless his meritorious ways.    

Even so come, Lord Jesus. Rev. 22. 20.  

THe pretty Bird imprisoned in his cage,  
Would fain go free, and spend his merry age  
In spacious woods: So is my better mind  
As to a prison, to my flesh confined:  
Make haste, sweet Jesus, to strike off my shackle,  
And to dissolve this earthly tabernacle,   

Thou art on earth, the earth's most perfect pleasure;  
Thou art in heaven, heaven's richest treasure:  
Let others dote on beauty, honour, wealth,  
Thou art my great reward, my joy, my health:  
My soul is ravished with thy love, and sickly;  
Then come my sweetest Jesus, oh come quickly!    

Upon Nature's Darling, the young ingenuous Gentleman, Mr. James Jones S●n to Edmund Jones Esq  

HE is in years a child; but if you scan  
The ripeness of his wit, he is a man.  
This graft from such a gallant stock will be  
In time succeeding, a most fruitful tre●:  
This Plant will prove a goodly Oak, and give  
A pleasant shade the weary to relieve.  
His Spring foretells the Autumn; and such rays  
Dart from the morning of his youthful days,  
As do foreshow this Morning star will prove  
A glorious body in the orb of Love.  
Thus purest Springs, as they do forward go,  
The wider still, and still the deeper grow.    

Upon the death of the Right worshipful, Sir Walter Pie of the Mind.  

THus full grown, fruitful trees we often find  
Blown down by sad and unexpected wind.  
He was an Evening-star, but so divine,  
As did in glory Morning-stars outshine:  
Virtue was strong in him, (if truly scanned)  
As when the Sun doth in his Zenith stand:  
The King hath lost a Subject, who should have  
An everlasting April on his grave.  
Have you observed, how the pure Frankincense  
Or Storax burning out, delights the sense?  
So he consumed and died; He left a Name  
A glory to his friends, to fo●s a shame:  
His death deserves of tears more ample store,  
Than there be sands upon rich Nilus' shore.    

The Passion of Christ. Vita mea fuit mors Christi; Mors Christi vita meaest.  

ADam, who names to Creatures gave,  
Did in fair Eden's garden sin:  
Christ in a garden, man to save,  
His bitter Passion did begin;  
There did his sweat, and drops abound,  
Ye●, drops of precious holy blood;  
Which trickled down unto the ground,  
And flowed like a crimson flood:  
There Judas did his Lord betray  
With a foul and deceitful kiss;  
Dissemblers cast their souls away,  
Regarding not eternal bliss.  
From thence with lanterns, staves and swords  
They led him like a wicked thief;  
No faithful friend now aid affords,  
No Angel ministers relief.  
To Annas than they brought the Lord;  
The holy Lamb is strongly bound;  
To murder him they all accord,  
In whom no guile or sin was found.  
He could these cords asunder break,  
His mighty hands did heaven frame;  
My sins did bind and make him weak,  
And subject unto pain and shame.  
Herod did scorn him, and disdain  
To see so poor, and vile a thing;  
The Lamb no favour can obtain,  
When that the crafty Fox is King.  
To Pilat's Hall they brought him bound  
For, Pilate judgement was to give:  
The Judge in him no evil found,  
But that he might in justice live.  
They did blindfold the God of Light,  
And struck the peaceful Prince of Love,  
Though to the blind he gave their sight,  
Yet nothing could these tyrants move:  
They spit in his most glorious face,  
Whose healing spittle cured the blind:  
Although he gave to sinner's grace,  
Yet here he could no favour find:  
They 'twixt two thiefs him crucify▪  
Who did him mock, and basely scorn;  
Between two thorns you might espy  
The Lily of the valleys torn.  
This was our Saviour's nuptial day,  
The bitter Cross his marriage bed,  
Where he his patiented head down lay,  
His loving Spouse the Church to wed:  
With nails they pierce his hands and feet,  
And with a cruel spear his side;  
From whence the Sacraments most sweet  
Like to a lively stream did glide.  
At last he bowed his head divine,  
All things were finished and complete;  
His Spirit to God he did assign,  
And unto us his Merits great.    

The Children of Bethlehem: Vox Sanguinis.  

A Voice was heard in Ramab, or on high;  
Fair Rachel wept, because her babes must die:  
In Betblem Rachel's buried; therefore she  
Is styled the Mother of this infantry.  
No voice comes sooner to the ears of God,  
Or crieth louder than the voice of blood:  
Herod the Fox these pretty Lambs did kill,  
Who the first Martyrs were by act, not will:  
In act and will I would a Martyr prove,  
And give this world, to gain the world above.    

Upon the Worshipful, and most hospitable Gentleman, Andrew Barker Esq of Fearfwood in the County of Gloucester. Integer vitae, s●elerisque purus.  

Observe bright Heaven's constellation, how  
The stars do join, and make a glorious show.  
Thu● virtues meet in him, whose noble thought  
Hath pious wo●ks unto perfection brought:  
H● keeps a house complete to strangers free,  
Without vainglorious prodigality;  
N 〈…〉 Po●te● dares to shut his door  
Against the sad petitions of the poor:  
No 〈…〉 sie, no Treason ●re possessed,  
Q 〈…〉 e●'d once into his serious b●●ast:  
Fidelity and truth did ever guide  
And steer his ship through every wind and tide:  
His Wife is like the pleasant Vine, that she  
May stock the world with good posterity;  
His lovely Children blest with grace and wit,  
Like Olive branches at his table sit;  
And strangers which behold them, soon may gather  
They are the children of so good a Father.  
May he ne'er cease, through the great power of God,  
To bud, and flourish like old Aaron's rod.    

Upon Saul seeking his father's Asses.  

Soul did much care and diligence express,  
By seeking Asses in the Wilderness;  
Three days he travelled with a serious mind  
To find them out, but could not Asses find:  
Find out a hundred you in London may  
Of Presbyterian Asses in one day.    

The Moon.  

IT is believed, the Moon so fair, so bright,  
Doth from the Sun receive her candid light.  
My soul no beauty, no perfection knows,  
But what the Sun of glory still bestows.    

Upon the fair and virtuous Gentlewoman M M. S. that can sing excellently. Gratior est virtus veniens è corpore pulchro▪  

WHen first I did this Virgin spy,  
The object pleased my serious eye▪  
But when I heard her sing, I swear,  
The music took both heart and ear.  
Those inward virtues please us best,  
Which are with outward beauty dr●st;  
And 'tis a comely thing to find  
In bodies fair, a ●airer mind:  
The Harp, the Viol hither bring,  
And Birds, musicians of the Spring;  
When she doth sing, those must be mut●,  
They are but Gymbals to the Lu●e:  
She with her Notes doth rise, and fall,  
More sweetly than the Nightingale:  
God in her pious heart keeps place,  
Some Angel in her voice and face.    

The Hen and Chickens.  

SEe how the careful Hen, with daily pain,  
Her young and tender Chickens doth maintain▪  
From ravenous birds secure her young ones lie  
Under their mot●●ers feathered canopy:  
Thus his dear children God together brings,  
And still protects them with his gracious wings:  
The bird o● p●ey God's Doves would soon d●vou●,  
Di● h● n●t guard them with his watchful power.    

Upon the Honourable Colonel; Sir Randolph Egerton Knight. In pace optimus; in bello maximus.  

MY trumpet is to dull too sound his praise,  
Who guilds this Nation with his virtuous rays:  
His merits do, like Nilus, overflow  
The banks of comprehension; and I know  
No better way than silence to commend  
His virtues, which no measure have, nor end;  
The muses shall meloudious Anthems sing  
Of his bold love, and valour for the King.    

Upon the fair, and virtuous Gentlewoman Mrs. Elizabeth Gwyn of the Hay.  

I Cannot speak her worth, but show my will,  
Her meri●s are beyond my pen, or skill.  
Her face, and mind is fair, like to the day  
Unclouded, or like heaven's milky way,  
When she inclines to marriage, may she find▪  
A lover correspendent to her mind;  
As she is rich, and comely, so may he  
Equal in portion, and proportion be:  
As she is kind, from him let kindness flow,  
And love, which weak defect may never know▪  
So let them both like twins be fair, and kind,  
Be rich in grace, be of a loving mind;  
So let them both continue, till they kiss  
In love each other to eternal bliske:    

Worldly Honor. Honos mundi est onus animis.  

CLimb up the highest hill, and you shall find  
That place most subject to great storms and wind.  
So worldly Honours, and preferments are  
But steps to raise you to more grief, and care.    

To the most Courteous, and fair Gentlewoman the pattern of modesty, and piety Mrs. Elinor Williams of the Gare.  

AS you are perfect without blot, or slain,  
So may perfection in your Bridegroom reign.  
As you are young, and tender; so may he  
In years a little your superior be.  
For every marriage than is best in tune,  
When that the wife is May, the husband June,  
Let not your heart to beggar's Hall incline,  
A shrubble should not embrace so tall a pine.  
A Buzzard must not cou●t the gentle Dove,  
For such a marriage will prodigious prove.  
No foolish Woodcock, must expect to wed.  
Or take the rarer Phoenix to his bed.  
Before your Roses fade, join hand in hand,  
Old age will come and plough your finest land.    

Remember Lot's Wife. Exempla plus valent, quam praecepta.  

A Woman turned to salt, most true it is;  
Ovid ne'er knew that Metamorphosis.  
The woman changed, not man, God's prime creature,  
For women are most apt to change by nature.  
She looked back with a most strong desire,  
To see old Sodom, which was then on fire.  
The act of looking back had been no crime,  
Had she looked back but at another time.  
It was God's precept, made this act a sin,  
She had been free, had God not injured been,  
Salt seasoneth flesh; she's turned to salt, that we  
By her example might well seasoned be.  
Go on (my soul) to God with all thy might,  
Renounce thy former Sodom of delight.    

Upon the death of the Right Worshipful: Sir Anthony Mansel, who was shot, and killed at the battle of Newberry: Quis desiderio sit pudor, aut modus, Tam chari capitis: Hora.  

DEath like a coward at a distance stood,  
When she struck him: his valour was so good,  
She durst not venture near: Death to her shame  
His body killed, but could not kill his name.  
In this sad battle, if same truth doth say,  
We got the field, and yet we lost the day.  
His death eclipsed the day, and made it night,  
And clouds of sorrow did obscure the light.  
It were injustice to neglect his dust,  
Whose death was noble, as his life was just:  
Now heaven crownes him, where all labours cease,  
Although he died in war, he died in peace:    

Charity. Quid charitas sine fide? Quid fides sine charitate?  

THe glorious Sun bestows his light, and heat,  
To cherish us, and make all things complete.  
The swelling clouds with water do abound,  
To secure, and refresh the thirsty ground.  
The earth yields her increase: the fruitful vine  
Out of her treasure yields the pleasant wine.  
All creatures in their kind by nature give.  
And with their precious store our wants relieve;  
These creatures by example us should move  
To help each other with a mutual love.  
To feed the poor who sells his own estate,  
Doth purchase heaven at an easy rate.  
God loves a broken heart, an humble knee,  
An open hand from all vain glory free.    

The Holy Sacrament, or Supper of the Lord Vbi ratio deficit, fides proficit:  

UNder the forms of sacred bread, and wine,  
I do receive thee, Lord, and grace divine;  
Thou art the door, the vine, the corner stone,  
Thou art the way, the truth, the life alone.  
Thy mercy to enlarge thou art our bread;  
Wherewith we are to life eternal fed.  
Thy blood is wine, which sweetly doth refresh  
Our weary souls, and cheer our weaker flesh.  
Who eats this bread, and drinks this cup, shall be  
From fainting thirst, and pining hunger free.  
In this sweet bread doth no sour leaven lie  
Of fraud, of malice or hypocrisy:  
The bread's thy body, and the wine thy blood,  
This I believe; this faith is safe, and good;  
Thou art in thy great Sacrament; but how,  
I simply do confess, I do not know;  
It is enough for me that thou art there,  
I will receive thee, Lord, with joy and fear.    

Upon the Right Worshipful Sir Richard Floyd, one of his Majesty's Honourable Judges in South-Wales.  

BLush all you scarlet gowns, that heretofore  
Did wink at rich men, and condemn the poor.  
Great flies break through, when the lesser fly  
In slender cobwebs doth entangled .  
But here is one of Jetbro's Judges, he  
Fears God and is from base corruption free:  
The person he respects not, but the cause,  
He fancies not opinion, but the laws.  
The scales of Justice no fine gold can turn,  
He righteth those which laugh, and those that mourn.  
He's careful of the poor; for he doth know  
That men will soon tread down a hedge that's low.  
His language is attractive, sweet, and full,  
And falls like rain into a fleece of wool.  
In faith he is a rock: in loyal love  
For his good King he'did a Martyr prove.  
He is a honest Judas; my active will  
Would gild his name, had I but perfect skill:    

Conscience. Conscientia mill● Testes,  

COnsider all thy actions, and take heed  
On stolen bread, though it is sweet, to feed.  
Sin like a Bee unto thy hive may bring  
A little honey, but expect the sting.  
Thou mayst conceal thy sin by cunning Art,  
But conscience sits a witness in thy heart,  
Which will disturb thy peace, thy rest undo,  
For that is witness, Judge, and prison too:  
The pleasant stream doth fair and smoothly glide,  
When in the bottom no great rubs abide.  
No swelling grief, no boisterous cares appear,  
Where honest ways preserve the conscience clear.  
Our  being new, and fair, we hold it fit,  
To care, what thing we touch, and where we fit.  
When they are foul, or torn, we leave that care,  
And cast them up and down like broken ware:  
'tis so with conscience; while 'tis fair within,  
We fear to slain it with some heinous sin:  
If once the Virgin-Conscience plays the quean,  
We seldom after care to keep it clean.  
Then keep thy conscience, like thy paper white,  
And do not blot, when thou mayst fairly write.    

The Shrew. Ventus ab Aquilone:  

BEhold her lip, how thin it is; her nose  
How sharp, her voice how shrill, which doth disclose  
A ●roward shrew; who hath her by mishap,  
Shall surely hear a constant thunderclap:  
Silence is her disease; for like a mill  
Her clapper goes, and never standeth still.  
By night Hobgoblins houses haunt: this spirit  
Doth vex, and haunt the house both day and night.  
The Rack the wheel, the Spanish Inquisition  
Torments not like her rongue; A sad condition  
Her husband lives in; like a coward he  
Must leave the field, and always vanquished be.  
He must commend, what she doth well approve,  
And disallow of what she doth not love.  
We tame wild fouls, bears, lions: but no Art  
To tame a shrew could any yet impart.    

Upon a Gentlewoman with a bad face but a good, and pious mind.  

HERE Virtue is eclipsed: and I do find  
Her face a mask unto her fairer mind:  
Thus Diamonds in rocks, as story tells,  
And precious pearls are found in oyster-shells.  
In this dark Lantern burns a lamp most bright,  
Under this cloud there is a glorious light;  
Sweet virtues sparkling from her soul divine,  
Will break forth through the thickest clouds, and shine:  
Nature in framing her, her skill forgot,  
When she should fairly write, she did but blot.  
Her outside she composed of sturdy buff,  
But grace hath lined her with more precious stuff.  
Nature, and Grace in her could not agree,  
The one was sparing, and the other free.    

The Harlot. Pestis Reipublicae.  

THE Harlot is the broad way unto hell,  
A labyrinth, a ditch, a poisonous well;  
She is a nightly glow-worm: Cankered brass;  
A common Inn, a sink, a broken glass.  
Her love is lust, her lover is a slave,  
Her arms are setters, and her bed a grave.  
She doth perfume her wanton lips, and hair,  
When her corrupted breath infects the air:  
Some fool will venture for a wanton kiss,  
As Eve did for an apple, heaven's bliss.  
Thus children for a nut will part with gold,  
Thus Esau for some broth his birth right sold.  
Use thy own fountain; stolen waters please,  
Lascivious minds, and breed the souls disease;    

Ad vere pium & colendiffimum virum Johannem Gibs armigerum, Jurisconsultum legis divinae & humanae scientissimum: Anno Domini: 1658  

MEns tua divino splendescet lumine: cernis,  
Accessit sacrae quanta ruina domo:  
Gloria quam brevibus ditissima labitur horis,  
Nec manet in centro firma, ten●xque suo.  
F●lsus honor, fragilisque fugacibus avolatalis,  
Sordet & in medio saepe corona luto.  
Mutatis pereunt fulgentia lilia formis,  
Splendorem retinet n●c rosa blanda suum:  
Nunc minuit, crescit nunc pleno Cynthia cornu;  
Ambigui sluit, & resluit unda sali:  
Sic vita est variis obnoxia casibus: hora  
Nemo sit ingrati quid ferat una mali.  
Continet in numeras N●ptum-littus arenas.  
Mustarum aestivo est plurima turba die:  
Arboribus variae sunt frondes; graminaterrae;  
Tot mala, tot morbi corpora nostra premunt;  
Nunc caeto ridens, summaque salute triumphans,  
Cras movet in maesto languida membra toro;  
In caelis aeterna dies, aete●●a voluptas,  
In terris van● est gloria, pictus honos.    

The Wish. Hoc est summum mei, caputque voti;  

A Little house, a quiet wife,  
Sufficient food to nourish life,  
Most perfect health, and free from harm,  
Convenient  to keep me warm.  
The liberty of foot, and mind▪  
And grace the ways of God to find.  
This is the sum of my desire,  
Until I come unto heaven's choir.    

Upon the most beautiful, hospitable, and jugenuous Gentlewoman Mrs: Blanch Morgan of the Therow.  

SOme fragrant flowers the smell, some trees the sight,  
Do much content, some pearls are wondrous bright;  
There's not so sweet a flower, so fair a tree,  
So pure a gem in all the world, as she:   

Some Ladies humble are, and some are wise;  
Some chaste, some kind, some fair to please the eyes▪  
All virtues do in her like stars appear,  
And make a glorious constellation there.    

Ad magni, & honesti nominis virum Edmundum Jones Armigerum, & Jurisconsultum optima scientia, & conscientia praeditum Anno Domini: 1656.  

INtimas sundens animae querelas  
Proximas tristis spacior per undas,  
Et meis plenum sluit ex ocellis  
Flumen aquarum:  
Cum domum sacram video ruentem  
In l●to faedis maculis not andam,  
Distrabor curis misero laborans  
Vulnere m●ntis.  
Templa clauduntur penitus relicta,  
Parcius sanctis precibus beata:  
Et silet stulte timidi prophet●ae  
Buccina verax:  
Haeresis penna volitat superba,  
Fascinans mentes populi cadueas;  
Veritas lucem fugiens silenti  
Nocte vagatur:  
Te scio verae Cupidum salutis  
Vineam multùm coluisse sanctam  
Nulla spes lucri potuit fidelem  
Flectere mentem.  
Firma mens nullas metuens procellas,  
Petra ceù fortis stetit: heù ●imores  
Negligis vanos; memoratque coeli  
Caetera calcas:  
Seculum soelix brevitèr suturum  
Nuncio: lumen sequitur tenebras,  
Claritas solis properatque caecam  
Pellere noctem.    

Fasting. Jejunavit Christus non per necessitatem, sed per dispensationem, ut ostenderet, quàm bonum sit Jejunium.  

FULL Barrels make no sound, nor can they pray  
With perfect love, who banquet all the day.  
Fasting extenuates sin: it doth control,  
And check the lustful motions of the soul:  
Fasting doth make our prayers flame more high,  
And prayer doth our fasting sanctify:  
To fast from meat my body shall begin,  
And then my soul shall so●ner fast from sin.  
Thy Saints and Angels, Lord, nor drink, nor eat,  
Receive my soul, and I will use no meat;  
Thou art the Well, and bread of life: on thee  
I'll feed with Heaven's blessed Hierarchy.    

In serenissimi nominis virum Jacobum Scudamore, Armigerum; qui verae nobilitatis vivax exemplar, nec non ditissimus est liberalitatis Nilus.  

ECcè virtut is speculum supremae,  
Alta cui mens est vari is beata  
Gratiae donis, placidique plena  
Munere coeli.  
Divitum multis premitur catervis,  
Pa●peres vultu recipit benigno  
Januam servans pa●ulam, locumque  
Plu●●bus umbris:  
Spiritus mitis dominatur intùs;  
Non m●lo pictus genio tumescit,  
Nec sames auri studiosa ment●m  
Possidet aequam:  
Don● fortunae malefida blandae  
Despicit: virtus animum gubernat  
Prodigum mundi, properatque●ummum  
Scandere coelum:  
Haereses odit nimiùm profanas.  
Tramitem rectum gradiens salutis:  
Transigat longos, pr●cor, & quietos  
N●storis annos.    

Baptism. Baptismus Johannis ●rat in spe ad poenitentiam; baptismus Christi erat revera ad remissionem peccatorum.  

THE Baptism of water, a good thing  
Common to all, cannot salvation bring,  
The Baptism of fire, and the Holy Ghost  
Must make us live, or else our life is lost.  
Baptise me, Lord, if thou shalt think it good  
With fire, and with the baptism of blood:    

Sickness. Omnes sani facilè aegrotis consilium damus.  

ASK me no more, Which is the greatest wealth  
Our rich possessions, liberty, or health?  
For riches, freedom, without health to me  
Make but sad music without harmony.  
Rust eateth Iron: and the finest cloth  
Is spoiled, and fretted by the envious moth;  
Through sickness strength and beauty fade away,  
As when a cloud obscures the fairest day;  
Each sickness is God's prison; and more sad  
Than any which cruel Tyrants had.  
When the sore gout doth but possess the toe,  
Where is thy former liberty to go?  
A golden Crown can not great comfort be,  
When th' head is troubled with a plethorie.  
Call for delicious Quails, Canary Wine,  
The finest Bread, or Manna more divine;  
These to thy palate will distasteful prove,  
When nothing can thee to digestion move,  
Much more diseases will in man appear,  
Than there be days existent in the year.  
O health, O perfect health, the gift of God,  
When we grow wanton, sickness is his rod:  
When I am sick or well, grant, Lord, I may  
Remember thee, and not forget to pray.    

To the most affable, charitable, and ingenuous Gentleman, Roger Vaughan of Moccas, Esq Nobilis ingenio, natura, moribus, ortu.  

MIstake me not; It is not my intent  
To court you with a formal compliment;  
Should I presume to set your praises forth,  
I should but injure you, and blot your worth,  
My drops can never make the Sea more full,  
And I confess, my Candle is too dull  
To add more light unto the Sun; my mind  
Would active be, but still defects I find.  
My slender power doth compel my pen  
To leave that task to more judicious men.    

The tongue. Bona lingua nihil melius, Mala lingua nihil pejus.  

GIve not the Bridle to thy hasty tongue,  
A mad colt speeds, and may his Master wrong:  
A tongue well dressed is excellent meat; ill dressed  
It is distasteful, and will not digest:  
The tongue is fire, soft fire gives pleasant heat,  
But if it flames too high, the danger's great:  
Who gives full scope, and lets his tongue go free,  
Will but endanger his own Liberty.  
In silent streams we find the deepest fords,  
And Wisdom's most, where there is least of words:  
Excessive words, which like great tides do swell  
Above their banks, unhappy effects foretell.    

Upon the Right Worshipful, Sir John Awbrey of Lantrethit, Knight. Honest as rumour optimum est patrimonium.  

SInce Truth is from the earth to heaven fled,  
Men are by strange, and various fancies led:  
The times did alter, yet the world may see  
This Knight from change, but not from chance was free.  
Some men's Religion like a blaze of fire  
Caused by dry sticks or thorns, will soon expire.  
Such will not row their boat, but where they find  
The tide most calm, free from tempestuous wind.  
But he great storms, and dangers did foresee,  
Yet no foul shipwreck of his faith could be:  
No danger could his resolution shake,  
Or on his soul a base impression make.  
Men might abuse his body, name, or land,  
They never could his braver soul command.  
The Sun's less constant; for since he begun,  
He ne'er went back, like Hezekiah's Sun:  
I'll speak no more; he praised Caesar best,  
Who silent wondered, and did speak the least.    

To the Right Worshipful, Sir Richard Basset of Bewper, Knight. Instar omnium.  

IF commendation is to valour due,  
Or virtue, praise then is a debt to you  
Y●u could not stoop, nor alter, like the wind,  
The loyal resolution of your mind,  
You bravely stood in times of war and fear  
Like some bright Star fixed in your proper sphere.  
Such sparks of Valour from your eyes did fly,  
As put your foes into an ecstasy.  
Your Noble actions do transcend all wit,  
Or copious lines, unless an Angel writ.    

Upon his much honoured friend, Major Henry Stedman.  

HOW shall I write of him, whose pleasant rays  
Do further spread than my weak skill or praise?  
His mind is like sweet Eden's Garden; which  
Was fair in trees, as he in virtues rich.  
His Loyalty is known, his Valour tried,  
Nor can his serious Judgement be denied.  
East was not more divided from the West,  
Than Treason from his unpolluted breast.  
His faith is Catholic, and it is vain  
To tempt him with a fond fanatic strain.  
Although his Boat with waves and wind was tossed,  
He ne'er his course or resolution lost.    

To the Worshipful, Edward Powel, Esq of the Maes Maur.  

MY Pencil is too dull to paint your name  
With such a gloss, as may advance your fame.  
Yet I have writ you down; for I believe  
Your name more lustre to my Book will give:  
As precious stones adorn a golden Ring,  
And lilies beauty to the Valleys bring,  
So he that will on your perfections look,  
Shall find, they are a splendour to my Book.  
You are my friend; which some may think not true:  
Because I do so slightly write of you.    

Upon the Right Worshipful, Nichola● A 〈…〉 of Lantony, Esq Honesty is the best policy.  

BEhold an Israelite, in whom's no gale,  
Nor doth foul practice his fair hands defi●e,  
The worldly wise do study, watch, and plot,  
And tread all paths, that riches may be got.  
If Naboth's Vineyard fruitful is, than they  
With Naboth's blood will Naboth's Vineyard buy.  
But his soul is contented, and doth hate  
To wander further than his own estate.  
He soars not high with an ambitious wing,  
But is contented, like a private spring,  
To keep his constant course: no muddy gain  
Of ill got treasure shall his conscience stain.  
Thus have I seen a calm and pleasant tide  
Without all noise, or swelling billows s●ide:  
His faith he pin's not on another's scieve,  
Nor changeth like the times: his soul doth grieve  
To see mad people, free from fear and grace,  
Besiege the Church, and storm the Sacred place.  
He is a friend true learning to advance,  
For learning hath no foe, but Ignorance:  
I wish him happy days, ●nd life to see  
His virtues shine in his posterity.    

A Periwig.— U● move●t cornicula risum Furtivis nudata coloribus.  

Welcome (o●ave gallant) with those locks so fair  
It is a question, who doth own that hair;  
T●e owner sure is dead; but when, or how,  
O in what place he died, thou dost not know.  
Perhaps he died at Bedlam, then take heed,  
Those hairs mad fancies in thy head may breed.  
Perchance sad Tyburn was the fatal place  
Where he did end his days for want of grace.  
If it be so, they will infect thy brain,  
And cause thee to delight in thievish gain.  
If from some broken Chambermaid they fell,  
They'll move to lust, and modest thoughts expel.  
O● if they grew upon a drunken head,  
Thou seldom wilt go sober to thy bed:  
But if they came from some bad Statesman's ground,  
A Matchivillian Knave thou mayst be found:  
Thus these dead excrements, if thou them use,  
Will but bad thoughts and qualities infuse.  
Cast off those loser hairs, which every wind  
Will fright away, and show thy vainer mind:  
God numbers all our hairs: let no man scoff  
At that, which God doth take such notice of:  
Besides, it is a sinful, shameful part,  
To ●lubber Nature's work with sluttish Art.    

Upon his most dear and pious Uncle, Mr. James Parry, Parson of Tedstone.  

While the new teachers in the Pulpit p●are,  
His works his Sermons are, which do d 〈…〉 e,  
And spread themselves: we may his pious mind,  
And inward faith by outward actions find:  
A good tree bears good fruit; the Olive tree  
Is far; but figs from thistles cannot be:  
The poor flock to him for supply and rest,  
A● birds do fly unto the warme● 〈◊〉:  
He lives not to the world; no base desire  
Of gold inflames him, or ambitious fire.  
He praiseth God, and doth contented live,  
Whether the hand of God doth take or give.  
Afflictions are his blessings, and the rod  
Which chastens him, doth bring him home to God:  
He lives to day, as if he'd die to morrow,  
Life is to him no joy, nor yet a sorrow.    

Hell. Qui per malam vitam negligit ●oel●m, per justi●●am Dei cadit in Infernum.  

GOOD Lord, deliver me from hell, where grief  
Is without end, and pain without relief.  
In this dark dungeon damned spirits l●e,  
Where the foul wo●m of conscience doth not die,  
Nor fire go out; where the most wretched soul  
Doth but in vain for pardon cry and howl;  
Here they do gnash their teeth, they spend sad tea●s,  
Full of distractions, horrid thoughts, and fears.  
From God's sweet presence, from eternal light,  
From holy Angels, and from Saint's delight,  
F●om heavens glory now they banished are,  
What torment is this, no man can declare;  
If after twenty thousand years of pain,  
And thousands more the damned were sure to ga●n  
A pardon, and come out, this grant would be  
Some comfort to them in their misery.  
But there is no such hope: the Judgement's past,  
And cannot be revoked; the gate is fast,  
And never can be opened: who can tell,  
What dreadful lamentations are in hell?  
I know that heaven is above; but how,  
Or where hell stands, Lord, let me never know.    

The prosperity of the wicked.  paupert as bonorum est beata, sic prosperit as impi●rum est maledicta.  

SOmetimes the wicked flourish like the bay,  
Which still keeps green, when better trees decay.  
Have you observed, how little streams do swell,  
And rise above their banks, and then have fell,  
And sunk into their Channels? so we know,  
Base men have risen high, then fallen low:  
That Kingdom is in an unhappy case,  
Where Cedars fall, and shrubs possess their place▪  
With joy and pleasure Upstarts climb the hill,  
Again they tumble down against their will:  
Those men do much mistake, who only measure  
A Christians welfare by his worldly treasure:  
An Angel hath no gold, no beasts, nor land,  
And yet he is not poor; his wealth doth stand  
In better things: although the just man's store  
Is small; he hath enough, and needs no more.  
God doth his grace instead of wealth impart,  
And with contentment doth enrich his heart.  
The bad m●ns wealth with discontent doth dwell,  
His heaven is but interm'xt with hell;  
Be not in love with gold: a golden purse  
Is without grace no blessing, but a curse.    

The Martyr. Martyrium est baptismus sanguinis.  

SOme in gay feathers do the Peacock's play,  
While 'tis fair weather, and a sunny day;  
But when 'tis clouded, and the storms begin,  
Like fearful snails they keep their horns within.  
Pure Fountain-water doth most heat contain  
The winter time: Good men, in greatest pain,  
And hardest times or dangers, valiant prove,  
And do express the greatest heat of love.  
A Christian from his faith will never start,  
If thousands should present, and fire his heart:  
He loves not life, life is to him a pain;  
He fears not death, death is to him a gain:  
He dies a Saint, for truth who spends his breath;  
The cause proclaims a Martyr, not the death:  
The blood of Martyrs is the fruitful seed,  
Which being sown, doth still more Christians breed.    

The DEVIL. Monstrum horr●ndum, inform, ingens, cui lumen ademptu●.  

GOD bless me from the Devil▪ ●oe to man,  
If God rules not that great Leviathan.  
D●●k, soggy mists he c●sts before our eyes,  
To make us credit his fantastic lies:  
His greatest proffers are but painted toys,  
〈◊〉 through with grief, and only faced with joys.  
With pleasant potions, and with sugared pil●●  
The Devil tempts his patiented when he kills.  
He tempted David with Bathsheba fair;  
J●das with silver-pieces, whom despair  
Brought to perdition: with a beauteous face  
He brought two wanton Elders to disgrace:  
With Naboths vineyard Achab he beguiled,  
So he with blood his guilty hands defiled.  
He cozened Achan with a wedge of gold,  
Eve with an apple: No man can unfold  
His various tricks; he knoweth when to fish,  
What bait you love, what things you chief wish.  
Three ways he useth most; Wine, women, wealth,  
By which he creeps into the heart by stealth:  
Resist him at the first, he'll fly away;  
Get but the morning, and you have the day.    

The Sinners Petition. Non opus est misericordia, ubi non est peccatum.  

AFter some sick and tedious hours of night,  
The Patient longs for the approaching light:  
The thirsty Deer doth panting run, and look,  
Desiring to find out the water-brook:  
So pants my soul, and sighs, and longs to see  
Thy saving health to make thy servant free.  
How am I circled with thick clouds of sin,  
And still a thread of vain delights I spin.  
The Sun of glory these da●k clouds can chase,  
And clear me with the beauty of his face.  
Wash (Lord) my sca●let sins, that knowest how  
To make me w●●te● than the ●l●e●e of snow:  
Remember not my rash and ill spent youth,  
When I could fancy lies, and hate the truth:  
Those sins are wormwood now, and bitter gall,  
My pleasures then, I now my sorrows call:  
I creep unto thy gate, and do implore  
Thy gracious love to cure my cankered sore:  
Receive me in, although I come so late,  
Thou hast the keys to open heaven's gate.    

A Hymn.  

HEar me, thou God of my delight:  
Me inspire with thy fire  
Pure and bright.  
Clear my face with thy grace;  
Turn, I pray, night to day,  
With the beams of thy glorious light.  
My waters calm, and cure me with thy balm;  
Have in store for my sore  
Some redress.  
Rid my fears, wipe the tears  
Which mine eyes do surprise,  
And me with thy pleasures bless.  
Great King, break not a bruised reed,  
Give me bread to be said  
At my need.  
Call to mind (Lo●d) how kind  
Christ thy Son me hath won,  
When his precious side must bleed.  
Keep me f●om thrall, and let me never fall  
Into woe, l●st my so  
May be glad.  
Let thy wing comfort b●ing  
To my ●●nd when I find  
My soul in her ●●●rning 〈◊〉▪  
All laud unto the glorious King,  
Whose great love we may prove  
By each thing.  
Heart and voice shall rejoice,  
And my breath unto death  
Shall harmonious Anthems sing.  
Lord, when I die, let my spirit fly  
To thy throne, where alone  
Thou dost reign.  
Perfect health, and true wealth,  
Quiet peace never cease,  
In thy Kingdom, there's no pain.  
Glory unto the Father be,  
To the Son it be done  
Equally▪  
Praise and boast th' Holy Ghost  
With thy power every hour,  
One true God in Persons three;  
Now 'tis even as heretofore it was,  
And shall be certainly  
Evermore:  
His great light hath no night,  
Nor can he changed be,  
But remains as he was before.    

Drunkenness. Elrietas brevis est insania.  

USE golden Temperance; that anchor may  
In greatest floods, thy boat that wanders, stay.  
Who drinks too much, and doth in taverns dwell,  
May want a drop to cool his tongue in hell.  
Po●ts writ of Men transformed to b●asts: if true,  
I do believe they were some Drunken ●●ue:  
No Wolf, no Ass more fierce, more shameless can  
Or careless be, than is a drunken man:  
Lust, murder, folly, falsehood, anger, pride  
Possess foul Drunkards, and their humours guide:  
Who runs, (and ne'er returns) this dirty way,  
Travels too hard to cast his soul away.  
Avoid the Alehouse: who frequents the door  
Where harlots live, will learn to love a whore.  
Lord bless me, that with Christ I may be able  
Before a drunken Inn to choose a stable.    

The Fountain: O Fons, lucido splendidior vitro!  

HEre I do bathe my body, wash my face:  
To cleanse my sins, I use the spring of grace.  
This fountain from a stony rock doth flow,  
Which teacheth me my Saviour Christ to know.  
He is the Rock, from whence a virtuous spring  
Proceeds to cleanse the beggar, and the King.  
Here in a Crystal cleverness doth appear,  
Which teacheth me to keep my Conscience clear:  
This little fountain from all mud is free,  
When greater streams are dark and troubled be:  
Secure content doth crown a mean estate,  
When Honours are obscured by envious fate.  
Here I do drink, and fear no poisonous charm;  
Rich wine in golden cups contain more harm.  
The running Fountain makes no sluggish stay,  
But keeps its course, and travels night and day:  
Nor will I spend my life as in a dream,  
But labour to be active, as the stream.  
Here without grudge the traveller shall stay  
And quench his thirst, although he nothing pay:  
Which teacheth me to bind the bruised reed,  
And give my cruse of oil to those that need.  
This pleasant Spring unto the sea doth haste,  
And spends both day and night, yet doth not waste:  
My tears shall never cease my God to move,  
Until they run into his sea of love.  
The Fountain doth alone, and secret dwell,  
Like some chaste Nun in a religious cell:  
A private life, obscure, doth best agree  
With my desires, from noise and tumults free▪    

The Prodigal Son:— Facilis descensus averni, Sed revocare gradum; superasque evadere ad auras: Hic labour, hoc opus est.  

ONce did I spread abroad my glorious train,  
And like a Cedar little shrubs disdain:  
Amongst small fish I thought myself a Whale,  
None might me balance in an equal scale.  
Reason was not my guide; each wanton sense  
Did wander through the whole circumference:  
Sometimes the centre of my pleasure lay  
Fixed in the bed of lust: the glorious Day  
Did usher in my fancies, and the Night  
Was but my secret Pander to delight.  
I robbed the painful Silkworm of her store,  
And polished English fleece with Indian ore;  
Which by reflection from the Sun's bright rays,  
Dulled the beholder's eyes, and made fools praise  
My handsome feature, although every part  
Was little bound to Nature's work, but Art.  
No cloud of sorrow did eclipse my joy,  
Nor mud of envy did my spring annoy:  
Each day produced strange dishes of content,  
To give my palate a new compliment:  
With women, wine, and cards I spent the day,  
Which like the wind chased clouds of cares away.  
But when my stock was spent, my thoughts did fall,  
I lost the Court, and found the Beggar's hall:  
The stubborn husks, which nasty hogs do eat,  
Was then my only dish, and constant meat:  
The scales of sin fell from my wa●ry eyes,  
And real truths I did discern from lies.  
In haste I ran into my Father's arms,  
And now with him I live secure from harms:  
I'll drown my sins in tears, and never more  
Spend oil in vain, that I may pay my score.    

HEAVEN. Non est mortale quod opto.  

THe world's an empty chest, where nothing lies,  
Which may content the longing heart or eyes:  
Figs from these thistles we shall never gain,  
Nor grapes of pleasure from these thorns of pain:  
My soul disdains the Earth, and sores above,  
Feathered with wings of an immortal love.  
The Prisoner, which in some dark dungeon lies,  
No comfort feels, nor light of sun espies:  
What joy would he conceive, if he were free,  
And could enjoy his wished liberty?  
So my imprisoned soul expects the day,  
When Nature shall dissolve this house of clay:  
For than I shall ascend with swift desire,  
And sudden motion to the Angel's choir;  
Where I shall see that glorious, Sacred face,  
Which joys all creatures, lighteneth every place,  
No Sun or Moon shines there; no day or night,  
The Lamb himself is the eternal light.  
There is the Mercy-Seat: the holy hill,  
Where neither thiefs nor tyrants rob or kill.  
No shackles hurt the feet, nor cares the mind,  
The poor man there is free from storms and wind.  
All discontent, all imperfection dies,  
The lame receive their feet, the blind their eyes.  
All tears are wiped away: None doth command,  
Each Saint doth hold a Sceptre in his hand:  
Lord, let me see thy Court; I seek no more,  
But the least place to stand behind the door.    

Upon the most Hospitable, and Courteous Gentleman, the Worshipful, Thomas Lewis, Esq of L●ngo●se.  

AS at a fountain every thirsty soul  
May freely drink, and fill his empty bowl;  
So doth his kindness, and his bounty flow,  
Like some high tide, which doth no measure know;   

As the pure air is from base mixture free,  
Without all vapours, or malignity;  
So his untainted heart disdains to be  
A friend to Schism, or Disloyalty:   

As on a Rock a house doth firmly stand,  
And bravely scorn both wind and rains command;  
So his most Noble resolution stood  
Firm for the Church, the King, and countries' good▪    

Black Patches. Vanitas vanitatum.  

LAdies turn Conjurers, and can impart  
The hidden mystery of the Black-Art.  
Black artificial patches do betray,  
They more affect the works of night, than day.  
The Creature strives the Creator to disgrace  
By patching that, which is a perfect face:  
A little stain upon the purest dye,  
Is both offensive to the heart and eye;  
Defile not then with spots that face of snow,  
Where the wise God his workmanship doth show▪  
The light of nature, and the light of grace,  
Is the complexion for a Lady's face.    

Powdered Hair. Malè olet.  

SOme proud fantastic Coxcomb takes more pain,  
And greater care to dress his hair, than brains:  
And he doth study, that his hair may have  
A better dye, than God and Nature gave;  
Furnish thy head with knowledge; I presume,  
That with a wise man is the best perfume.    

A Wife. Imperet illa nihil, qui●quid tamen impetret uxor, utere nec serva conjuge, nec Domino.  

ART thou resolved for Marriage? then rely  
On God to choose, not on the wanton eye.  
Men may intent, or purpose: It is not  
The man, but God, which ties the marriage knot.  
Fix not thy mind on beauty: that fair shade  
Will quickly pass, that fair flower will fade,  
Virtue and beauty to one place confined,  
Is the best glue, which can affection bind.  
A modest maid with beauty stored, and grace,  
Hath wealth enough, and portion in her face,  
To take a Wife for wealth, and not for love,  
Will but a sickness, not a Marriage prove.  
Choose one well born: all waters do (we know)  
More sweet from fountains, than from channels flow.  
Graff on a Noble Stock, and you shall find  
Such pleasant fruit as will delight your mind:  
 not on her which doth the wanton play,  
And think with gold and pearl t' outshine the day.  
Give me a wife, that can the Spindle use,  
The Book, the Needle, free from brawls and news.  
Take heed of her, that sanctifies her face,  
And never prates without a Scripture phrase.  
One chaste, and merry, lovely, kind, and wise,  
Active, well bred, contents both heart and eyes.  
Desire the hand of God to point thy ways;  
He never falls, that in his journey prays.    

The Rainbow. Ingens bibit arcus. Virg.  

VAriety of colours may be seen  
Within the Rainbow, chief red and green.  
Green shows the Deluge, which did overflow,  
And drown the whole Creation here below:  
Red shows the world, (when times age shall expire)  
Must be refined, if not consumed by fire.  
We see no arrow in this bow, nor string,  
It threatens not, but doth glad-tidings bring:  
The glorious bow of heaven doth foreshow  
Sweet showers of Blessings, not of Judgements now▪  
Grant me thy mercies, Lord, cast not thy dart,  
Nor shoot thine arrow at my wounded heart.    

The Carpenter. Is not this the Carpenter's Son?  

GOD is the Carpenter, whose skilful hand  
Upon the waters made this Orb to stand.  
He did compose the gate, which is the way  
To heaven's bliss; and keeps himself the key:  
He hath his Plain, when we are rough and wild,  
To make our stubborn Nature's smooth and mild.  
He hath his perfect Rule, his S●we, his Axe,  
To order that which reformation lacks.  
This Carpenter makes hearts and hands agree,  
And joins them fast in bonds of Unity.  
Lord, join and glue my soul to thee so well,  
That I in thee; and thou in me may'st dwell.    

Upon the Worshipful, and most hopeful Gentleman, Thomas Prise of Whisteston, Esq  

HE is in years but young, yet grave and wise,  
Old age and youth in him do sympathise.  
Nature made use of Art, before she could  
Make one at the same time both young and old.  
His heart is gallant, humble, just, and free,  
There only virtues keep their Hierarchy.  
The pleasant Whisteston is his Mansion place,  
Where Nature A●t, and Art doth Nature grace.  
In that fair dwelling we may find much pleasure,  
But yet in him consists the chiefest treasure!  
Wealth, Honour, Pleasure, are no more, we find,  
But handsome Pages to his Nobler mind.    

Upon the Nobly minded, and most pious Gentlewoman, Mrs. Marry Williams, daughter to that worthy Gentleman, Thomas Gwyn of the Hay-Castle, Esq Saecula Phaenices nulla tulere duos.  

FResh is the morn, the Maidenhead of day.  
Sweet are the flowers which breath perfumes in May.  
Fair is the Rose in June: so doth her heart  
The sweetest ornaments of grace impart:  
Here Virtue sits enthroned, as if she were  
Contented only with her dwelling there:  
Her alms and pious deeds beyond compare,  
For her a seat in heaven do prepare:  
And glorious heaven is the fittest place  
To entertain so good a heart and face:  
I wish, the Sun an hundred years may rise  
With joy to wait upon her brighter eyes.    

Affliction. Deus vulnerat● carnem ut sanet mentem●  

WHen for delight I took the purer air,  
I have observed sweet Meadows green and fair  
overlayed with dung, which spoiled the present grace,  
But afterwards it gave a better face:  
Affliction makes one dark, but we may find,  
It adds more gracious beauty to the mind.  
Afflictions are Gods Skullions; and these must  
Scour and preserve his household stuff from rust;  
They are his Masons, which do smooth and square  
Stones for the Temple, which unpolisht are:  
The more the patiented Camomile we tread,  
The more it will by dilatation spread  
The gentle fire, if often blown, will burn  
With greater heat, and to more fury turn:  
So Christians by afflictions stronger grow,  
They patience may no base submission show.  
When Christ was on the earth, they crowned his head  
With thorns, and made the wooden Cross his bed.  
They gave him vinegar and gall, when he  
Did sorely thirst in his strong agony:  
If that the King could have no better meat,  
What dainties shall the beggar think to eat?  
The Paschal Lamb with bitter herbs was eaten,  
If we are Christ's, we surely shall be beaten.    

The World. Omnia vanitas.  

THE World's a garden, which the fancy feeds,  
And yields few wholesome herbs, but many weeds.  
Fool's may commend, and give a golden gloss  
To things that glister, but indeed are dross.  
When serious I consider in my cage  
The strange Meanders of the present Age,  
And see the chance and change of every thing  
From the poor beggar to the richest King:  
All worldly pleasures but false dreams I find,  
Which may distract, but not content the mind.  
Our life is short, our greatest riches vain,  
Our wisdom folly, and our pleasure pain.  
As wave on wave, so grief on grief doth fall,  
One trouble doth another sorrow call.  
Build on the Rock, if thou wilt safely stand:  
He sinks, who builds upon deceitful sand.    

The Remedy of Love.  

NO woman lives, but in her eye  
We may some moats or beams espy.  
Thy Helen may be fair; but stay,  
Thy Helen will the wanton play.  
Thy Celia may be fair, but proud:  
Crumena rich, but sharp and loud:  
Eugenia may be full of wit,  
But wisdom wants to temper it.  
Lut●tia may deserve thy love,  
If virtue can affection move:  
She's fair within, but foul without;  
And who would use a dirty clout?  
A foul tripe may thy taste annoy:  
Eat Pheasants still, they will thee cloy.  
And thus no Beauty is so clear,  
But storms in it, and clouds appear.  
Some foul disease, some grievous pain  
May Celia's blushing roses slain;  
Or age with furrows will disgrace  
The pleasant meadow of her face.  
Consider then; be sick no more,  
Since reason may thy health restore:  
If beauty doth so quickly pass,  
Oh seek a richer pearl than glass;  
That precious Beauty, which expels  
All clouds of grief, in heaven dwells:  
There fix thy mind, and thou shalt see  
What imperfections women be.    

Judas his Kiss.  

Judas did with a Kiss his Lord betray:  
Many seem friends, when they the Traitor's play.  
Judas was proud, and kissed our Saviour's face;  
Presumption brought him to th' infernal place.  
Marry did kiss Christ's feet; which humble kiss  
Exalted her to the celestial bliss.  
Judas and Mary kissed him; both we find  
Alike in lips, but much dislike in mind,  
God weighs the heart; whom we can never move  
By outward actions, without inward love.    

Upon the most learned Gentleman, Doctor Aurelius Williams, Dr. of Physic.  

SOme writers hold, which is most strange to me,  
There may of souls a transmigration be.  
If it be so, I swear, that Galen is  
Revived in him by Metampsychosis.  
A thousand more than died, Death thought to kill,  
Had Death not been prevented by his skill.    

Upon a drunken Woman.  

Wouldst thou a Monster, or a Devil see?  
Or else in Nature some sad Prodigy?  
Then on a drunken Woman cast thine eye,  
All those are seen in her deformity.    

The Priesthood. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  

'TWas Jeroboam's practice, and his sport,  
Priests to elect out of the base sort.  
As it was in those days of old: so now  
They have full orders, which no order know.  
Drones, knaves, and fools, for Church-preferment look,  
Those fish, and catch it with a silver hook.  
Such Workmen in Christ's Vineyard, will, I fear,  
More shame the work, than help good labourers there.  
The Priesthood is a holy, Sacred thing,  
Derived from Christ, both Prophet, Priest, and King.  
This pearl is fit for Merchants, that can tell  
The use thereof, and know the value well.  
Let not this rich and precious oil be shed,  
Or poured on any, but wise Aaron's head.  
The wise men came with reverence to Christ's stable.  
But fools will come without it to his table.  
Those must have perfect eyes that guide the blind.  
Who sin corrects, should have the purest mind.  
Those must have skill in Music, that can sing  
One of the Songs of Sio● to the King:  
Christ once had need, but cannot now abide  
Unto the Temple on an Ass to ride:  
God doth inflame his Priests with Sacred fire,  
And them he doth with different gifts inspire:  
Some wound, some heal our sores; some weep, some sing.  
Some thunder Judgements; some glad-tydings bring.  
No Soldier will prepare himself to fight,  
Unless the Warlike Trumpet soundeth right:  
Then Prelate be not rashed ' impose thy hand,  
The Holy Ghost is not at thy command.    

The Merciful Samaritane.  

NO balm from Gilead, no Physician can  
Heal me, but Christ the true Samaritan.  
When I am sick, and when my wounds are foul,  
He hath his oil and wine to cleanse my soul.  
My sins the thiefs, which wounded me, have been,  
Help, Lord, conduct me to thy peaceful Inn.    

The poor Widow's mite.  

OUR Saviour did prefer the Widow's mite  
Before the rich men's gifts: God takes delight  
More in the heart, than hands; and he doth measure  
How great our love is, not how much our treasure.  
Give all thy full possessions, but thy love,  
Thy gift will an abomination prove.  
Love makes cold water wine, small actions great,  
And without love no bounty is complete.    

Upon the sad departure of the right reverend Father in God, and the most learned Prelate, William Nicolson, from Caermarthin in South-Wales, to his Bishopick of Gloucester.  

Sol vespertinas discedens duplicat umbras.  
Quanta sed abscessum est umbra secuta tuum?   

THE light which did direct us, will appear,  
Or shine no more in our dark Hemisphere.  
We lost a Shepherd, which could wisely keep  
The Fox and Wolf from preying on the sheep.  
His Catechism is in doctrine sound,  
In language sweet, in learning most profound.  
This he hath left behind him; and we look  
On nothing more than on his serious book:  
He made his Farewel-Sermon: ne'er was known  
More grief, than now in Prophet Mertin's town.  
He uttered many words; unless fame lies,  
More tears by far flowed from the people's eyes.  
For Gloucesters' Reformation, God thought fit  
To use his faithful pains, and holy wit.  
And if he can by wholesome doctrine bring  
These in obedience to the Church and King,  
It will a greater miracle be thought,  
Than any of the old Apostles wrought:  
His godly presence doth make others live  
In peaceful joy; his absence makes us grieve.    

Upon the much honoured Gentleman, John Delahay of Alltrynis, Esq Conspicuae virtutis amor dominatur in illo Non magnus fieri, sed studet esse bonus.  

AN old Philosopher with a Candle ran  
About the streets to find an honest man.  
Had he lived now, and met with him, I swear  
He had been pleased to stay his journey there.  
Or if he had refused him for one,  
He might in vain through all the world have gone.    

Upon the Worshipful Milborn William's Esq Son to that most excellent Knight, Sir Henry Williams of Gwernivet. Magnorum haudquaquam indignus avorum.  

'TIs my ambition to remember those  
Whose virtuous minds their actions do disclose  
Some men, like owls, cannot behold the light,  
Nor judge of colours, be they black or white:  
Such I neglect, and write of those who can  
Discern a Picture from a living man.  
His knowledge is not weak, nor judgement dull,  
But strong, and bright, like C●●tbia in the full.  
His gentle nature is so free, so fair,  
So full of sweetness, as the purer air:  
He bea●s an humble mind, and knoweth well,  
That by ambition holy Angels fell.  
He was so zealous for the Kingly cause,  
As old Judge Jenkins for the Kingdoms Laws.  
To number the bright stars, requires l●ss pains,  
Than all the virtues which his heart contains.  
To cut his thread of lif●, when Fates agree,  
A great Eclipse in Brecknockshire will be.    

DEATH. Omnibus haec calcanda vi● est.  

Welcome (sweet Death) I love thy cold embrace:  
The rich, and bade cannot endure thy s●●  
Life is a passage unto Death; and Death  
An entrance into life: When no ●al b●ea●h  
Is once expired; to live than we begins  
Which life secures us both from death 〈◊〉  
Conceive a precious pearl involved in clay,  
Which can its lustre by no means display:  
So doth the brighter soul imprisoned lie  
In this black dungeon of obscurity:  
Nor shall its glory shine, until 'tis free  
From the dark clouds of dull mortality.  
To come into the world, one way we have;  
A thousand ways to hasten to the grave.  
The day of Death is secret kept, that we  
Might every day suspect that day to be.  
As I am not ashamed to live, so I  
Can never truly be afraid to die.  
O Death! O watchful Death! thou look'st for me:  
I am prepared, O Death! and look for thee.    

Magnae honestatis & virtutis viro Thomae Williams Armigero, Causidico longe optimo: Canticum familiare.  

VIr egregie, mundum vides,  
Nec non inconstantiam rides:  
Quanta est mutatio rerum?  
Nihil tenax, nihil verum.   

Hodiè regnans in pallatio,  
Debellatur brevi spatio:  
Hodie Princ●ps in honore,  
Cras est servus in timore.   

Transit nubes siae moram,  
Transit vi●ae brevis bora:  
Ci●● fracta est aquae bulla,  
Diù mavet aet as nulla.   

Nos imbelles nihil sumus,  
Nisi umbra, nisi fumus,  
Dum in terris ambulamus,  
Ad sepulchrum properamus.   

Ambio nullos ego honores,  
Multi premunt me dolores:  
Plorans, tristis hic anhelo,  
Nemo felix, nise in coelo.    

Simeon's Song: Lord, now lettest thou thy servant departed in peace, according to thy word.  

SOme, when they die blaspheme, and some are mad;  
Some curse and swear, some desperate are some sad:  
But no distraction racks the just man's mind,  
No strange conceits his understanding blind.  
Out of this life so God his servant calls,  
As when the Infant into slumber falls.  
When Simeon had enriched his blessed eyes  
With seeing Christ, the world he did despise:  
He died in peace; and like a Swan did sing  
Before his death, an Anthem to the King.  
Christ like a Lamb did die: whilst you have breathe,  
Pray for a quiet and a peaceful death.    

Upon the Worshipful, and much deserving Gentleman, John Jeffreys of Ab●rcu●rick Esquire.— Nondum mutatus äb isto Hectore, qui quondam.  

CAn silence fit the present stage, or dare  
Our tongues be silent, where such merits are?  
His actions are too great, too good to lie  
Under a bushel in obscurity.  
He was not Linsey woolsey, or content  
To be composed of King and Parliament:  
He was most loyal, and could not dispense  
With such base freedom to his conscience,  
As to neglect his King: he hath a heart,  
From whence transparent beams of Virtue dart:  
After sad years of cruel storms and wind,  
He shall a Haven, and a Heaven find.    

The Gardener. She supposing him to be the Gardener, said unto him, Job. 20.  

MARY prevents the day; she risen to weep,  
And see the bed, where Jesus lay a sleep.  
She found out whom she sought; but doth not know  
Her Master's face; he is the Gardener now.  
This Gardener Eden's Garden did compose,  
For which the chiefest Plants and Flowers he chose.  
He took great care to have sweet Rivers run  
T' enrich the ground, where he his work begun.  
He is the Gardener still, and knoweth how  
To make the Lilies and the Roses grow.  
He knows the time to set, when to remove  
His living plants to make them better prove.  
He hath his pruning knife, when we grow wild,  
To tame our nature, and make us more mild:  
He curbs his dearest children: when 'tis need,  
He cuts his choicest Vine, and makes it bleed.  
He weeds the poisonous herbs, which clog the ground.  
He knows the rotten hearts, he knows the sound.  
The blessed Virgin was the pleasant bower,  
This Gardener lodged in his appointed hour:  
Before his birth his Garden was the womb,  
In death he in a Garden chose his Tomb.    

Copernicus' his opinion confirmed.  

Copernicus' his fancy may hold good,  
The earth did only move, the heavens stood.  
So earth and houses wheeling round about,  
And changing Climates, sound new Masters out.    

The Changes. Tempora mutantur, nos & mutamur in illis.  

THe painful Bee, which to her hive doth bring  
Sweet honey, in her tail retains a sting  
Our sweetest joys are interlined with cares,  
No field of corn, but hath some choking tares.  
The stream; which doth with silent motion sl●de,  
Is oftentimes disturbed with wind and tide.  
Who sits to day in Honour's lap, and sings,  
God soon can change his tune, and clip his win●.  
Sometimes the Sea doth ebb, and sometimes flo●,  
Now with, anon against the tide we row;  
No haven's so secure, but som● ill blast  
May toss the ship, and break the stately Mast:  
Who now in Court doth dance, and li●t his head,  
To morrow droops, and sickly keeps his bed,  
The King may beg, and beggars may command.  
High Cedars fall, when little shrubs do stand.  
The sweetest come o●t I do feel, or find,  
Though fortune change, is not to change my mind,    

The Hourglass. Inter spemque metumque timores inter & it as Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum.  

OUR time consumes like smoke, and posts away,  
Nor can we treasure up a month or day.  
The sand within the transitory glass  
Doth haste, and so our silent minutes pass.  
Consider how the lingering hourglass sends  
Sand after sand, until the stock it spends.  
Year after year we do consume away,  
Until our debt to Nature we do pay.  
Old age is full of grief: the life of man  
(If we consider) is but like a span  
Stretched from a swollen hand: the more extent  
It is by strength, the more the pains augment.  
Desire not to live long, but to live well,  
How long we live not years, but actions tell.    

Pride, and Humility. Humilis descendendo ascendit, superbus ascendendo descendit.  

WHat pride possesseth man, that is but clay  
Which must dissolve, and melt like ice away?  
What frothy ba●m of self-conceit and love,  
Doth puff his heart, and such high fancies move?  
Who doth presame to climb the highest wall,  
Will soon slip, and catch the heaviest fall.  
Proud men have fallen from their stately chairs,  
And falling once, have tumbled down the sta●●s.  
The shrubs are most secure, and free from wind,  
When lofty trees a strong resistance find.  
Behold the twig, which gently bends and bows,  
When stubborn Oaks are broken, stands and grows.  
Virtue is sooner found in Cotts and Cells,  
Than in great Courts, where pride and envy dwells;  
A contrite heart, (O Lord) a bended knee,  
Like sweet perfume, shall at thy Altar be.    

Christ's Resurrection-day: or Easter.  

AS when through misty clouds and troubled air  
The Sun breaks forth, and makes the heaven's sa●●,  
So Christ the glorious Bridegroom, came this day  
Out of his Chamber, whore he secret lay;  
The brighter Sun is up, whose pleasant rays  
Do bless the earth with good and happy days;  
Display thy warmer beams, and to my heart  
More fervent heat of zeal and love impart;  
Death could not kill, or conquer life; nor might  
The thickest darkness comprehend the light;  
Had he been still interred, than we had been  
For ever slaves to Satan, Death, and Sin;  
The Jews to keep him there, (O fond conceit)  
Rolled to his grave a stone of heavy weight;  
His body pierced the stone, but was not able  
To pierce their hearts far more impenetrable!  
He could remove vast Mountains with his Word,  
And in the Sea to them a grave afford;  
The Mountain of my sins from me remove,  
And drown them (Lord) in thy deep Sea of Love;  
This joyful morning at the break of day  
Our Saviour risen, and left his bed of clay:  
Awake betimes (my soul) from slumber free,  
And leave thou sin, before that sin leaves 〈◊〉.    

The Spring.  

SEe how the wanton Spring  
In green is clad,  
Hark how the birds do sing,  
I'll not be sad:  
Doth not the blushing Rose  
Breath sweet perfume?  
I will my spice disclose,  
But not presume:  
The dew falls on the grass,  
And hastes away,  
Which makes me mind my glass  
Which will not stay:  
Now plants and herbs do grow  
In every place,  
Lord, let not me be slow  
In growth of Grace:  
Behold the fruitful trees  
And fertile ground;  
Observe the painful Bees,  
Whose hives abound;  
I will not barren be,  
Nor waste my days  
Like slaggards, that are free  
From virtuous ways.    

The Poet's Soliloquy.  

WHy do I droop, like flowers oppressed with rain?  
What cloud of sorrow doth my colour slain?  
I like a Sparrow on the house alone  
Do sit, and like a Dove I mourn and groan:  
Doth discontent, or sad affliction bind,  
And stop the freedom of my Nobler mind?  
No, no, I know the cause; I do retire,  
To quench old flames, and kindle better fire:  
It is my comfort to escape the rude  
And sluttish trouble of the multitude:  
Flowers, rivers, woods, the pleasant air and wind,  
With Sacred thoughts, do feed my serious mind:  
My active soul doth not consume with rust,  
I have been rubbed, and now are free from dust.  
Let moderation rule my pensive way;  
Students may leave their books, and sometimes play.    

I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life, Joh. 14. 6. Via in exemplo, veritas in promisso, vita in prae●●io.  

CHrist is the Way, which leads to heaven's joy.  
He is the Truth, which errors can destroy:  
He is the Life, which raiseth up the dead,  
He is the Way, Truth, Life unlimited:  
The way is narrow, strive to enter in,  
The Truth is pure to cleanse our souls from sin,  
if'ft we do walk this Way, this Truth maintain,  
Eernal life is ours, exempt from pain;  
This is the Way without all rubs of grief,  
This is the Truth which claims a just belief:  
Here is the Life which conquered death and sin,  
Truth, Life is one's, if we the way be in:  
The● Truth informs us, and the Way doth gulled;  
The Life rewards us, if we constant bide.  
Fellow this Way; embrace this Truth; desire  
This Life, the crown of Saints in Heaven's choir.    

Thankfulness. Ascensus gratiarum, est descensus gratiae.  

IN thee I have my being, live and move,  
Who art the King of glory, and of love:  
From thy rich storehouse of delight and pleasure  
I do receive my joy, my gifts, and treasure:  
Who gives me bread to strengthen me, and wine  
To glad my heart? who made my soul divine?  
Who gave me wisdom, or spiritual eyes,  
Good to discern from bad, and Truth from lies?  
Who doth direct my ways, but thou my King,  
Which art the Fountain whence all virtue's spring?  
What shall I render thee? I have no more  
Than what's thine own, thy riches are my store:  
If thou (sweet Lord) will't not my Heart disdain,  
Thou gav'st it me, I give it thee again.    

The Holy Maid: Dum fugio homines, invenio angelos; & nunquam minùs sola quàm cùm sola.  

IAm resolved, no  desire  
Shall kindle in me Cupid's fire:  
No amorous toys, no wanton kiss  
Shall ●ob me of eternal bliss.  
I'll write, I'll read, I'll spin, I'll pray,  
To drive vain thoughts of Love away.  
A silent Cloister, which is free  
From change and chance, best pleaseth me:  
When I do not converse with men,  
I speak with God, and Angels then.  
I will not wear a rich attire  
Of gold or silk, to set on fire  
Beholder's eyes: The care I find,  
Most needful, is to dress my mind.  
No cunning Lover shall beguile,  
Or win me with a gift, or smile:  
I will accept no pretty thing,  
As Ribans, Gloves, a Watch, or Ring.  
Weak man's estate, as in a glass,  
Is truly seen in fading grass:  
The choicest Man, the fairest Rose,  
Will languish, and perfection lose.  
And yet I am in love: but where?  
My love ascends a higher sphere;  
Where honour, beauty, pleasures be  
Enthroned, and full of constancy.  
My Beloved's white and ruddy,  
My red sins made him all bloody:  
His head is like fine gold, most free  
From dross, and all impurity:  
His gracious eyes are like Doves eyes;  
And in his cheeks composed lies  
A bed of spices and flowers sweet,  
Where all perfumes together meet:  
His mouth breathes roses; and no bliss  
Can equal his delicious kiss,  
But see, where my Beloved lies,  
And courts me with his dying eyes:  
He spreads his arms me to embrace;  
Who would no● love so sweet a face?  
Rich drops of blood, like rubies fall,  
To ransom my poor soul from thrall:  
The Cross my pillow, and my bed  
Shall be his Grave to rest my head.  
All sweets are sour, all fair perfections foul,  
Compared with Christ, the Bridegroom of my soul.    

In laudem Comitatus Herefordiensis. Hic benè natus eram, non benè notus eram.  

Haec tell us pleno ditescit munere coeli,  
Nec magè fructiferas dat Paradisus opes.  
Optima qainque bonis florescunt commoda terris,  
Unda, & silva frequens, faemina, lana, seges:  
Vitro splendidior lucido fluit unda salubris,  
Quae faelix multo pisce notatur aqua:  
Da●● vi●ides campis turgentia flumina vestes,  
Why, Lugier, sunt patriae flumin● prima meae:  
Hic qu●rcus Jovis arbor adest, quâ scindimus aequor,  
Nobilitat varios plurima silva locos:  
Hic est in●ocuae tam praestans forma puellae,  
Verteret ut Monachos in nova vota pios:  
Non p●aebet tibi tam pretiosam Hispania lanam,  
Qualia dives opum veller a Lemster habet:  
Diverso telum componit tramite bombyx,  
Cum videas lanam hanc, negligis illud opus:  
Alma Ceres crescit, gravidisque labora● aristis,  
Nec datur in toto copia parca so'o:  
Pa●rem hic tam placidum comedas, ut credere posses  
ma●●●m de summo vel cecidisse poto:  
Te●tarent Evam f●lg●n●ia poma: per agros  
C●●scit pomorum ●uxu●i●s● proles:  
〈◊〉 S●cera n●en●o non postpon●nda Lyaeo,  
Q●●● N●ct●r magni credo fuisse Jovis.  
Haec gens fidelis, gaudens virtute; laboris  
Experiens, fortis, bl●nda, jocosa, sagar:  
Hospitio gaudet populus studiosus amoris,  
Et col●t antiquum Religi●nis opus.  
Musa silere jub●t; nunquam imbecilla son ●bit  
Ex merito laudes buccina nostra tuas.    

Come unto me all you that labour and are heavy laden, and I will ease you, Matthew 11. 28. Clamat Diabolus; Venite ad me, & ego intersiciam. Clamat Mundus; Venite ad me, & ego desiciam. Clamat Caro; Venite ad me, & ego inficiam. Clamat Christus; Venite ad me, & ego ref●ciam.  

NOt ahab's Balm, no Pool in Siloam,  
Not David's Hyssop, and no Angel can  
Or blessed Saint in heaven cure the soul,  
When sin hath made it, like a Leper, foul:  
Christ is our Balsam; and we have no Tree,  
Whose leaves do Nations heal, but only he.  
Our Saviour's sacred blood speaks better things  
Than Abel's blood, and greater comfort brings:  
God's anger was incensed when Abel died,  
Our Saviour's blood his anger pacified:  
The blood of Abel did for vengeance call;  
Christ's blood for love, and mercy to us all:  
Just Abel's blood cried once, and cried no more;  
Our Saviour's blood cries still; God hath in store  
A Sea of mercies, if we do depend  
On Christ our loving Bridegroom, and our Friend:  
He makes the lame to walk, the blind to see,  
The sad to sing for joy, the prisoner free.  
Come all that labour: Blessed is the man,  
That hath some oil from this Samaritan.  
Come, not by strength of legs or feet, but mind;  
By prayers, not by steps, if rest you'll find:  
Mount with the wings of prayer, and ascend  
Gods holy hill, where pleasures never end.    

The Hypocrite: Monumentum speciosum.  

THe Hypocrite, his face, his words, his mind  
Into a thousand forms and shapes can wind:  
This weathercock with every blast can turn,  
And he had rather change his faith, than burn:  
He cares not how, so he may fill his dish,  
He can in clear, and troubled waters fish.  
He love protests, where he doth deadly hate;  
His words will run like oil, and break your pate.  
If men do hunt the Fox, he'll shout and cry,  
'Tis fit the Fox, which killed the lambs, should die:  
But if the Fox sits in the chair of State,  
The Fox shall have his love, the Lamb his hate.  
If here the Tu●k should reign, this man alone  
Would sell his Bible for an Alcharon.  
I'll speak no more of dung; my heart is free  
From the base leaven of Hypocrisy.    

Chastity.  

A Woman chaste, is like a Meadow fair,  
Enriched with pleasant flowers, and sweetest air,  
Then (woman) lock thy privy chamber; be  
A fountain sealed, not to all comers free.  
If thou art rich, sell not thyself for pleasure;  
If thou art poor, sell not thyself for treasure.  
Make not thyself a Common; it is found,  
There's better pasture in enclosed ground.    

Predestination: Occulta esse causa potest, injusta esse non potest.  

DIspute not why some Angels stood,  
And others fell, which were by nature good:  
Dispute not, wherefore God doth take and choose  
Some to his grace, and others doth refuse:  
The potter doth of the same lump of clay  
Make vessels some more base, and some more gay;  
And shall we question Gods most secret will,  
Why his own creatures he doth save or kill?  
Who's saved, or damned, none knows: who look  
Into the Lord's Predestination-book?  
The signs or symptoms which Election prove,  
Are lively faith, and undefiled love.  
I will serve God, and shake off sinful slumber,  
Who knows but I am of th' elected number?    

The Poet's Condition: Est Deus in nobis, agitan●e calescimus illo.  

A Poet, and rich? that seems to be  
A paradox most strange to me.  
A Poet, and poor? that Maxim's true,  
If we observe the Canting cive.  
What lands had Randolph, or great Ben,  
That ploughed much paper with his pen?  
Wise Chaucer, as old Records say,  
Had never but his length of clay:  
And by some men I have been told,  
That Cleaveland had more brains than gold.  
Show me a Poet, and I'll show thee  
An Emblem of rich poverty:  
An hundred Verses, though divine,  
Will never buy one pint of wine.  
I have a purse as free within  
From gold, as Heaven is from sin;  
And silver thinks, I do it wrong,  
If I imprison it too long.  
My purse no constant measure knows,  
But like the Sea it ebbs and flows;  
And as my purse doth rise or fall,  
So I do rule my senses all.  
When I have silver or pure gold,  
I am most brave, divine, and bold;  
And then I do not hold it fit  
That any should outvie my in wit:  
But when these birds have taken wing,  
I cannot crack a jest, nor sing:  
All mirth and music I detest,  
And mad Orlando, Mortuus est.  
But stay; I think no worldly gain  
So sweet as a Poetic vein:  
No grief disturbs a Poet's head,  
No discontent frequents his bed:  
When riches ebb, my wits do flow,  
The rich are dull, and nothing know.  
I have a heart, I have a mind  
More quick in motion than the wind;  
And through the twelve Signs I can run  
By thought, more swiftly than the Sun.  
I know the motion of the Stars,  
Which are for peace, which are for wars:  
If I the Astrolabium take,  
I know their height without mistake:  
I know without all doubt or wonder,  
The cause of lightning and of thunder:  
What weather will be, I descry  
By the complexion of the sky.  
The virtues of each plant or tree,  
Of flowers and herbs, are known to me.  
I good and evil Angels know,  
And can their strength and order show:  
But (O my God) I know thee best,  
When I confess I know thee least.  
Thus I, when I am poor and bare,  
By meditations banish care.  
Then judge, which is the greatest curse,  
An empty head, or empty curse.    

Upon Peter Fishing.  

Dost fish in the deep sea? 'tis Christ's command,  
That thou shouldst rather fish upon dry land.  
Thou art a Fisher, not of fish, but men:  
Consider how to catch them, where, and when.  
He that will fish for men, the only hook  
Which he must use, must be the holy book:  
The Scripture is the net, which drags great store  
From Seas of troubles, to the blessed shore.    

To the fond Lover.— Est forma fugax, est foemina fallax.  

BE resolute, (fond youth) and free  
From courting her, which loves not thee:  
Strange passions rule a Lover's brain,  
Now tears, than smiles; now joy, than pain:  
Now hope doth rule, then black despair,  
Now he exclaims, then calls her fair;  
He sometimes doth God's aid implore,  
But loves, and calls on Caelia more:  
No joy, no wealth, no worldly bliss,  
May be compared with Caelia's kiss:  
But we may seek, and find as well,  
Most perfect rest and ease from hell,  
As to derive our Paradise  
From any woman's wanton eyes:  
We shall for honey look in vain  
From a foul nest of wasps to gain.  
Caelia cheats with her false treasure,  
Guilding pains and death with pleasure.  
She is a wavering, fickle toy,  
None is more fond, none is more coy.  
If thou art strange, than she is free,  
If free thou art, she's strange to thee;  
She will reject, if thou dost choose,  
She will affect, if thou refuse.  
If thou art ye, than she is fire,  
Burn thou, and she will quench desire;  
When thou art kind, than she will frown,  
When thou disdainest, she is thine own;  
She laughs, and weeps, she's kind, and sour,  
She grants, denies, all in an hour;  
Her bitter frowns, her sweetest smiles,  
Are all composed of snares and wiles.  
She paints an outward face of love,  
Where she will most a tyrant prove;  
And sometimes she pretends to hate,  
Where her sick soul is captivate;  
What she desires to scorn she feigns,  
And seems to wish, what she disdains:  
Thus a poor Lover knows not well,  
Whether he is in heaven, or hell.  
Then fix thy love on Christ thy Rock,  
Not on a wavering Weathercock.    

The Presbyterian Covenanter.  

THE Presbyterian, as wise men may see,  
Hath little knowledge, less of honesty.  
He is both Fool, and Knave; or such another  
As wicked Cain was, who did kill his brother.  
He's lately come to England with a story  
Of a new Pamphlet, called a Directory:  
His Cloak is something short, his looks demure,  
His heart is rotten, when his words are pure,  
His mind is carried with a headlong tide  
Of self-will, worldly love, presumptuous pride.  
He's sick of late; a vomit may do well,  
Oaths, Covenants, Treason's, from his heart t' expel.  
In this our Land this Presbyterian brat,  
Like Pharoah's lean kine, hath devoured the fat;  
In Scotland he was bred, a place too wild  
To breed an honest, or a civil child:  
Let Presbyterians be to Scotland sent,  
I wish them no more plague, or punishment.  
Than pleasant flowers will in God's garden sprout,  
When these unwholesome weeds are rooted out.    

Upon the young, most beautiful, and most ingenuous Gentlewoman, Mrs. Marry Carne, Daughter to the gallant Gentleman Mr Thomas Carne Esq once of Bro-Castle.  

IT is a strange and wondrous thing,  
●o see ripe Autumn in the Spring:  
He scarcely lives, that ever saw  
F●uit the same time both ripe and raw.  
As strange a thing we may behold  
In her so young, in her so old:  
She is a ●ender Child in years,  
I● 〈◊〉 a Matron she appears.  
Observe her growth, she is but small;  
Observ● her wit, she is most t●ll.  
Here Nature seems to rob Old age,  
By making Childhood, 〈…〉 ve and sage.  
So clear a Mo●ning doth betray  
And speak the fairness of the day:  
So sweet a Bud doth well disclose  
We may expect a fragrant Rose.  
As sh● within is free from dross,  
So Nature gave her such a gloss  
Of gracious Beauty, that we have  
Nothing, except her Mind, so brave.  
If Nature's stock were wholly spent,  
Here Beauty might again be lent  
T' enrich the world, because that she  
Hath Beauty's sole Monopoly:  
She like a lively Spring oreflows,  
And daily in perfection grows.    

The Leper.  

IAm a filthy Leper, from my head  
Unto the foot, with scurf of sin o'er spread;  
I want no art, or help to cleanse my ski●,  
The stream may wash my body, not my sin.  
Lord, let the Jordan of thy grace restore  
My perfect health, and let me sin no more.    

An Epitaph upon my beloved Daughter Susanna Watkyns, who was born upon Ash-wednesday, 1655. and died the 5. of August, 1658.  

HEre lies a pleasantRose, rash Death thought good  
To take, and crop it in the tender bud:  
God is a Husbandman, who doth remove  
His younger plants, to make them better prove.  
She for her morning's work shall have her pay  
Equal with those that laboured all the day.  
Ash-wednesday she was born; for her I moan,  
Because she is so soon to Ashes gone.   

Hic noster dolor est, hic nostri germen amoris;  
Hic Rosa, slos campi, gemma sepulta jacet.    

Upon the most pious, and learned Work, entitled, David's Harp strung and tuned; being a brief Analysis of David's Psalms, with devout Prayers and Meditations on each Psalm: Composed by that Orthodox, most learned, and excellently qualified Prelate, William Nicolson, Lord Bishop of Gloucester.  

When David on his skilful Harp did play,  
Saul was refreshed, the Devil fled away.  
Sure David with the Harp did sing a Psalm,  
Which did King Saul's fanatic nature calm.  
The Psalms are David's Harp now played upon,  
And tuned by England's chief Musician.  
He handles David's Harp, and plays so well,  
That where 'tis heard, no sad distractions dwell;  
With the wise Prophet, he doth well dispense  
●y clearing, not by changing of the sense.  
Have you observed, how the laborious Bee  
Doth feed on flowers of all variety,  
And thence pure honey doth extract, and we  
Receive much profit from her Treasury?  
So he hath travelled through the fruitful field  
Of David's Psalms, which like rich flowers, do yield  
Pleasure and profit to judicious men,  
Who will admire the sweetness of his pen.  
On every Psalm each holy Meditation  
And Prayer, merits heaven's approbation.  
Who meditates or prays so well as he,  
From sin, from Satan, and from hell is free.  
Here thou may'st learn to write, and learn to pray;  
Here thou may'st learn to think on heaven's way.    

Upon a most pious and learned Exposition of the Apostles Creed, by the same right reverend Father in God, William Nicolson, Lord Bishop of Gloucester.  

HE that desires to tract the Sacred way  
Which leads to heaven, soon shall go astray,  
U●nless he hath a perfect rule or line,  
Safely to guide him through all paths divine.  
All is involved in th' Apostles Creed,  
Which sinners do unto salvation need:  
Twelve Articles of faith the Creed contains,  
Which are explained by his laborious pains.  
He leaned with John, on Christ's own bosom: thence  
He sucked deep knowledge; which he doth dispense  
Unto the world: to open heaven's door,  
Use but this key, and you shall want no more.   
The two Books above mentioned, written by the Bishop of Gloucester, are to be sold at the Crown in Fleetstreet   

Ambition exemplified in the Parable, Judg. 9  

THe trees would choose a King: they all agree,  
The Olive should their King elective be.  
The Olive would not her rich fatness lose  
To be promoted over all the trees.  
The Vine would not be King to lose her wine,  
Which doth all hearts rejoice, all wits refine;  
The Figtree much did of her sweetness boast,  
And would not reign to have her sweetness lost.  
At last the Bramble doth intrude, and would  
(Though most unfit) the Royal Sceptre hold.  
With vain ambition those do never swell,  
In whom high gifts of grace and nature dwell.  
Ambition spurs the bad, by some sad fate,  
Who many times usurp the Chair of State.  
To row their Boats for wind and tide they watch,  
And at Promotion, like the Bramble, catch.  
Ambition moves me not; myself I yield  
To be the meanest flower in all the field;  
Yet from preferment I'll not turn aside,  
Nor go on foot, when God doth bid me ride.    

The Conclusion.  

THese Poems so compendious, I presume,  
No time, no fire, nor envy shall consume.  
Those Hero's writ of in this Book, shall be  
A Precedent to all Posterity:  
Nature a short life gave them, this will give  
A second birth, and make them ever live.    


BReconium quondam veteres coluere Silures,  
Terra bona est, mala gens, litigiosa, sagax  
Hic domus est angusta mihi cum stramine tecta;  
Pastor sum templi (Barnace sancte) tui  
Sed natale solum est soelix Heresordia: longà  
Villâ sub nigro Monteque n●tus eram.     

Proverbial Sentences.  

1.  
A Hood makes not a learned Monk; they err,  
Who think, a Beard makes a Philosopher.   

2.  
Some cross the Seas to gain more wit; we fin●  
They only change the air, but not the mind.   

3.  
All is not gold that glisters: painted glas●,  
With fools and children, for true pea●l may pass.   

4.  
Who riseth up, and prays not; turn● the light,  
Or natural day, into spiritual night.   

5.  
Ice will convert to water; Man to dust;  
Young men may die; but Old men, die they must.   

6.  
Be merry, Maids; you cannot Husbands lack;  
For every Gill there is an equal Jack.   

7.  
A man which falleth in a dirty way,  
The fouler is, the longer there he'll stay.   

8.  
An hundred weight of sorrow will not pay  
One pound of debt to clear the Sergeants way.   

9  
He that hath many children, it is known  
That all his morsels cannot be his own.   

10.  
He that hath spice enough within his fist,  
His cup of drink may season, as he list.   

11.  
Who hath a Fox to be his mate, must set,  
Or at his girdle hang a constant net.   

12.  
Who hath one Hog, doth make him fat; and he  
Who hath one Son, makes him a fool to be.   

13.  
Who lets his wife go unto every feast,  
And lets his horse of every water taste;  
H● shows but little wit; for all his life,  
He'll have a horse that's bad, and so a wife.   

14.  
Who hath the better game, doth fear the end:  
Who hath the worse, doth hope the game may mend.   

15.  
I● that thou dost desire to know a Knave,  
〈…〉 him a staff, and let him power have.   

16.  
Who climbs the highest hill, above shall find  
More frequent storms, and greatest force of wind.   

17.  
He pulls with a long rope, who first must wait  
Another's death, before he hath his bait.   

18.  
He that to market sends an idle fool,  
Must follow him, and let his porridge cool.   

19  
Who hath a Wolf for his companion, can  
Never do well without a Dog his man.   

20.  
A cheerful look doth much content a guest,  
And makes a homely dish a dainty feast.   

21.  
When holy Prayers at the Church are done,  
Forsooth my Lady's ready then to come.   

22.  
An ancient wise man's shadow, or his word,  
Is better far than a young Coxcomb's sword.   

23.  
Leave Jesting; while it doth men's humours please,  
If it to earnest turns, 'tis a disease.   

24.  
Who doth to thee in love a Capon bring,  
Bestow on him again the leg or wing.   

25.  
Give to a Clown thy finger at command,  
And by and by he'll take thee by the hand.   

26.  
Parents their children must correct behind,  
And not before, if vicious faults they find.   

27.  
Snow that on earth in win●er doth appear,  
And long endures, foretells a happy year.   

28.  
Who hath not more of bread than needs, he ●●st  
Forbear to keep a dog to eat the crust.   

29.  
The Fox will swear, if grapes do hang too high,  
They are unpleasant to the taste and eye.   

30.  
Although a Lie he neat, and finely dressed,  
Yet doth but seldom prove a welcome guest.   

31.  
Each man within his bed must ●●●etch his fee●  
According to the length of rug or sheet.   

32.  
Agues in Autumn, which the body move,  
Do to the Patient long or morttl prove.   

33.  
Marry your son, when that you will: A man  
Fit for your daughter find out, when you can.   

34.  
The fruitful Corn from chaff is cleaned by wind,  
And by chastisements is the Soul refined.   

35.  
T●e veriest fool at some time wise may be,  
The wise from folly are not always free.   

36.  
In greatest rivers greatest fish are found;  
Ve●●ure not much for gain, lest you be drowned.   

37.  
●et all our actions be most just and pure;  
〈…〉 is they, no● others judgements us secure.   

38.  
Help those in want: Alms never make one poor;  
They do not lessen, but increase thy store.   

39  
If thy own house is built or made of glass,  
Throw not stones at thy neighbours; gently pass.   

40.  
When I was born, I did lament and cry,  
And now each day doth show the reason why.   

41.  
That victory is greatest, and most good,  
Which is obtained without the price of blood.   

42.  
He that doth rise betimes, and leaves his bed,  
Hath some conception in his working head.   

43.  
Wish none to marry: Man and wife may jar,  
And ne'er advise a friend to go to war.   

44.  
'Tis well that the wise hand performs not all  
The foolish mouth doth utter forth and brawl.   

45.  
Who in the glass doth oft behold her face,  
Hath little care to dress her dwelling place.   

46.  
An Ass that carries me, I rather ride,  
Than a proud Ho●se, which throws me quite beside.   

47.  
The cunning Fox of wisdom hath great store;  
But he that catcheth him, hath something more.   

48.  
The Lion (sure) is not so fierce or stout,  
As foolish men do paint or set him out.   

49.  
Say not, I am an Olive; till thou see  
Me gathered; then bestow thy judgement free.   

50.  
He is a fool, that spends a whole years rend  
At one meals meat, his palate to content.   

51.  
Let no man in his riches himself flatter:  
Who drinketh wine, he may be glad of wa●●●.   

52.  
Bad Company is a disease;  
Who lies with Dogs, shall rise with fleas.   

53.  
Against high Heaven if thou spitt'st disgrace,  
Thy spit●le will fall down and foul thy face.   

54.  
Who in his pocket hath no money,  
In his mouth he must have honey.   

55.  
A married man, if he my counsel take,  
Will tu●n his fighting-staff into a stake.   

56.  
If you could run, as fast as drink; I dare  
Be bold to say, you'd ●atch the nimblest Hare.   

57  
The Master's eye, as it is always found,  
Doth fat the horse, his foot doth fat the ground.   

58.  
When thou dost choose a wife, or buy a Sword,  
Trust not thy brother, or thy neighbour's word.   

59  
A lazy Jade will eat as much good meat,  
As any horse that is both swift and neat.   

60.  
When once the tree is fallen, which did stand,  
Then every man will take his axe in hand.   

61.  
The little dogs do often start the hare.  
The great ones get her, and do better far.   

62.  
The Willows are but weak, yet we find  
They other wood, which stronger is, will bind.   

63.  
A Bean with freedom, is more sweet to me,  
Than any Comfit can in prison be.   

64.  
Beware a bull before, a horse behind:  
A hypocrite on all sides b●d we find.   

65.  
The choleric drinks, the melancholic eats,  
The phlegmatic still sleepeth after meats.   

66.  
Our children little make us sools, and glad,  
When they are great ones, th●n they make us sad.   

67.  
A ●a●yers house (if I have rightly read)  
Is bui●● upon a fool or mad man's head.   

68  
No Church yard is so handsome any any where,  
As w●●l strait move one to be buried there.   

69.  
Who like a fondling to his Wife tells news,  
He hath not yet worn out his Marriage shoes.   

70.  
Some into lightning-fall by strange mishap,  
Who newly did escape a Thunderclap.   

61.  
Here is great talk of Turk and Pope: but I  
Find that my neighbour doth more hurt than they.   

72.  
When Vice doth reign, a wicked friend doth well,  
'Tis good to have some friends in heaven and hell.   

73.  
We bachelors do laugh until we shake,  
You married men do laugh till your hearts ache.    

To the Courteous Reader.  

THe God of love made plants and herbs to give  
Their virtues humane nature to relieve.  
The meanest simple, weeds, and poisons have  
Some power, which our imperfections crave.  
To cure by Minerals is a curious Art,  
Herbs with less danger, virtues do impart.  
Behold this Looking-glass: In which thou'●t see  
When thou art sick, and when from sickness ●ree,  
Accept of it: so small a gift (I know)  
Can not great boun●y, but affection show.    

A LOOKING-GLASS for the SICK: OR, The Causes and Symptoms, or signs of several Diseases, With their Cures and Remedies.  

Of the Headache caused by heat.  

THIS is engendered by the burning heat  
Of the warm Sun in Summer, or by great  
And too much exercise; the fiery flame,  
Anger, and hot diseases cause the same.  
The pain is great, strong heat afflicts the head▪  
The skin is very dry, the eyes are red.   

Use but a little meat, a●● to digest,  
And cold in operation, fish is best  
From stony rivers: but you must restrain  
From milk or meats which fume into the brain.  
Oil Omphacine with vinegar compound,  
Which poured upon the head, great ease is found.    

Of the Headache by cold.  

Cold causeth headache: some their health impair,  
That go bare▪ headed in the colder air.  
The head, when it is felt, no heat contains,  
The face is pale, the eyes do swell with pains.   

Hot baths are good; the oil of rue is sure,  
Rubbed on the forepart of the head, to cure.    

Of a Headache caused of a Plethory, or plenitude of blood.  

All meats and drinks, that nourish much, do breed  
The headache, if we plentifully feed,  
And yet neglect baths, sweatings, vacuations,  
Whereby the body wanteth operations;  
The temple veins do beat: the urin's red  
And thick: sad heaviness distracts the head.  
The face and eyes are red: the pulse is great,  
And with no little vehemence doth beat.   

The patient must eschew rear eggs and flesh,  
Cold herbs are good the spirits to refresh.  
To let him blood is good: all wine is bad,  
Let him be always merry, never sad.    

Of Headache caused by the foul Stomach.  

Sharp humours in the stomach oft abound,  
And chief in its mouth: from whence are found  
Foul vapours to ascend: the sick would fain  
●omit: he feels a sharp and gnawing pain.   

You must now things to the head apply.  
To purge the stomach is the Remedy.    

Of Headache by Drunkenness.  

Hot wines, strong drinks, with vapours fill the brain,  
If that the brain be hot, the more's the pain.   

A vomit's very good, than sleep and rest,  
Amongst all medicines this is counted best.    

Of the Windiness of the Stomach.  

Phlegmatic humours we by reason find,  
Oft in the stomach do engender wind.  
And sometimes windiness is caused by meat  
Dissolved to vapours through the want of heat.  
They that are thus diseased, do stretch, and swell,  
The pain doth in the back and belly dwell.   

If that the Patient's bound, a purge is good,  
Wh●ch may expel the sle●m, and cleanse the blood.  
●o●le grains in good strong water, for I think  
Against all wi●d this is an excellent drink.    

The Yellow Jaundes.  

This sickness stops the gall or spleen with great  
Combustion in the liver, and strong heat.  
A yellow colour of the skin and eyes,  
With grief doth in the spleen and liver rise.   

The juice of horehound will afford relief,  
With thy own urine to expel this grief.  
Turmerick and Honey, Saffron well compound  
With Treacle, to make thy body sound.  
Or else the dung of Goats to powder beat,  
And drink't three days, to render health complete.    

The Dropsy.  

The Dropsy is a water bred with in  
Betwixt the bowels, and the tender skin,  
Which clasps about them: which disease indeed  
From coldness of the liver doth proceed.  
The belly swells, the colour is not good,  
The Patient is compelled to loathe his f●od.   

With juice of Plantain fill some pot; and bind  
About the pot a linen cloth: then find  
And lay some ashes on the cloth: the fire  
It must abide, until the hal● expire.  
Drink some each mo●n: This hath been known and se●n  
To cure the w●●rish Dropsy, and the Spleen.    

Of the Stone in the reins of the Bladder.  

Some gross and naughty humours putrify  
Within the bladder, which great heat doth dry,  
Small gravel in the urine you may find,  
Pains in the bladder to afflict the mind.   

Anoint the yard with Fox-blood, and the stone  
Will soon dissolve: this is a practice known.  
Nine Ivy berries in warm wine receive.  
This drink the Patient never did deceive.  
Beat Snails to ●owder: or few eggshells dried,  
Powdered, and drunk, have been thought good, and tried.  
Of Garlic seethe some seven heads, or more,  
To break the stone, and perfect health restore.    

The Strangury.  

Ulcers within the Bladder this begets,  
Or some Apostume, which the urine frets,  
The urine at the yard will drop: and wish  
You may with strong desire, but cannot piss.   

The Radish root in white wine seethe or steep,  
If thou thy body from this grief wilt keep;  
Some Filbirts stamped, and drunk, the grievous pains  
Will cure, which in the bladder be, or r●ins.    

The Gout.  

Surfeit and Drunkenness breeds this foul disease,  
And use of women doth the same increase,  
Long standing brings it too: and boisterous ways  
Of too much exercise, and youthful plays.  
This doth great pains to joints, and swell bring,  
In time of harvest chief, and the Spring.   

Some Plantain leaves being plastered with fresh gre 〈…〉  
Bring down the swollen gout, and grief appease.  
Figs, honey, bread, and also mustardseed  
With vinegar compounded, help your need:  
Pitch, Salt Armoniac mingle well, and stamp,  
'Tis excellent good to cure a grievous cramp.    

The Ague called Ephymera, which endureth one day.  

Unnatural heat the vital parts doth fret,  
Which anger, watching, drunkenness may beget.  
A feverish heat it to the body sends,  
Which in a fainty sweat or unpour ends.   

For Agues take a vomit: or a quart  
Of Sack will cure thee, and rejoice the heart.  
To cure the heat, juice of Cucumber's best,  
With oil of Roses: smear the pulse and breast    

A continual Ague.  

Abundance the foul body doth contain  
Of humours putrified in every vein.  
The Patient suffers constant heat and pains,  
And, till the fever ends, no respite gains.   

Some Colewort-leaves, with oil of Roses take,  
And for the stomach this a plaster make:  
Drink in warm water the herb Pimpernel,  
This cures a Fever, as Physicians tell.    

The Carbunc ●e.  

Gross and hot blood residing in some place,  
An Ulcer, or a painful Bile doth cause.   

Rue, Nuts, and Honey stamp; this plaster will  
Cure all Carbuncles, and Apostumes kill.    

A Quartain Fever.  

This Melancholy breeds; which putrified,  
To divers parts of sickly men doth slide:  
The weary Patient two good days enjoys,  
But on the third a sore fit him annoys.   

Take Rue-leaves, Pepper, Honey, mingle these,  
The bigness of a Chess-nut will give ease:  
Two hours' before the fit, that compound give,  
To cure the fever, nature to relieve.  
Use Almond-milk in fevers; and all say  
'Tis good to use sweet clarified whey.    

The Lethargy.  

This sickness, like some drowsy, heavy pain,  
Fills with corrupted phlegm and cold, the brain:  
Such often sleep; all wit and judgement's gone,  
And they forget what they have spoke or done.   

Use Vinegar and Oil, Red Mint, and Rew  
Unto the nose, the spirits to renew:  
Or you may burn the skin of any Hare,  
The ashes drunk with Calament is rare.    

The Frenzy.  

Choler the Frenzy, and much blood maintains,  
Heating the head, and filling up the brains:  
A constant Fever frantic patients have,  
They love to watch, and seldom rest do crave:  
When they awake, they use to roar and cry,  
But can afford not any reason why.  
If Blood's the cause, to laugh they will delight▪  
If Choler be the cause, they brawl and fight.   

With Plantan-juyce the temples first anoint,  
A Cap of Ter●bentine wax I then appoint,  
With woman's milk: which wrapped about the head,  
Will give the Pati●nt rest within his bed:  
Let blood in that same v●in, which, as I guess,  
The middle of the forehead doth possess.    

The Turn, or Dazzling in the head.  

Some vaporous Exhalations do arise  
From the foul stomach, and the brains surprise:  
The Patient thinketh, that all things go round,  
And oftentimes he falleth to the ground.   

The pith of Bread baked with Coriander seed  
Laid to the head, is good to help thy need:  
Take Opium, Saffron, Ro●es, and all these  
With Vinegar mix, which plaster bringeth ease.    

Too much Watching.  

Great store of choler, dryness in the brain,  
Doth watching cause, and wont sleep retain.   

The seed of Mustard bruised, laid to the head  
Hot, cures she pains, and makes a quiet bed.  
Some Poppy-juyce, and oil of Roses take;  
These mixed, will make him sleep, that keeps awake.    

The Falling-Sickness.  

Gross, slimy humours do possess the brain,  
The lively spirits no free passage gain:  
The Patient at the mouth will foam, and fall  
As if he died, and lost his senses all.   

Burn any dead man's skull, the ashes take  
In drink; this sickness shall you soon forsake.  
If you desire to cure this evil, tie  
About your neck the root of Peony.    

The Pain in the Ears.  

Who rides, or travels in cold storms or wind,  
Grief in the ears, and mighty pains shall find.  
Hot Inflammations may the Ears withhold:  
So the Disease proceeds from heat, or cold.   

Stamp Emmets eggs, Earthworms, and leaves of Ru●  
In oil; which strained, the Hearing will renew:  
The juice of Onion will ●ffo●d relief,  
With Woman's milk, and much assuage the grief.  
But in hot causes, to procure some rest,  
Cold Le●tice made in plaster, is the best.    

The Fistula.  

Corrupt, sharp humours in some members shall  
Cause a deep Ulcer, narrow, and hard with all.   

Goat's dung with honey mixed, the hollow place  
Fill with the same; it cures in little space.  
Take this Receipt; Put Leaven in strong Lie,  
And to the Fistula the same apply.    

The Scabs, Pox, and Leprosy.  

Gross, filthy humours, mixed with matter thin  
And very sharp, do these diseases bring:  
The hair will fall, and outward scabs appear;  
The Patient's not from pain, or itching clear.   

Take Oil, and Aloes, and unquenched Lime,  
An ointment make to cure in little time:  
Take oil of Bays, white Wax, white Frankincense,  
Quicksilver mixed with spittle, Hog's fat cleanse,  
Bay-sall, and Plantain-juice: then mingle these,  
To cure the Pox, the Scab, or Foul disease.    

The Falling of the Hair.  

Vicious and naughty humours do impair,  
And quickly may corrupt the roots of hair:  
If th'head wants moisture, and the skin be rare,  
The hair forsakes the head, and leaves it bare.   

Burn some Goat's dung; the ashes will repair,  
Is it be mixed with oil, the falling hair.  
Seethe Mallowroot in water; wash thy head  
In this against the scurff, and thou hast sped.    

The Morphew.  

The gross and slimy blood becomes like cream,  
And turns to Melancholic, and white Fleam.  
If you'll discern this sickness, notice take●  
The skin is spotted like a various snake.   

Sheep's liver ●●wly killed, warm on the face,  
Revives the colour, and all spots doth chase:  
Anoint thy face all over with Bull's blood,  
To make one fair it is held wondrous good.    

The Toothache.  

Great store of humours from the head do fall  
Unto the gums; the pains are known to all.   

Bruise the wild Poppy-seed, and put the meal  
Within thy hollow tooth, thy grief to heal:  
Stamp cloves of Garlic, tie them to thy arm,  
Against the Toothache 'tis a present charm:  
With Crow's dung fill the hollow tooth, and it  
Will break the tooth, and ease thy grievous fit.    

The Palsy. Paralisis.  

Foul and gross humours to the sinews flow,  
The members neither sense nor motion know▪  
The Patient with oil benedict anoint,  
Use ointments hot to supple every joint.  
Take the Fox skin, apply it hot: the grief  
It will assuage, and yield thee much relief.    

The Squinacy.  

Excess of filthy blood and choler float,  
And draw unto the muscles of the throat.  
The Patient's mouth is open, eyes are red,  
He cannot draw his breath, nor swallow bread.   

A Dogs toord with Oak-apples plasterwise,  
Is for the throat the best you can devise.  
In a new earthen pot old Swallows bu●n,  
Honey and powder mix to se●ve your turn,  
Then with a quill convey it down the throat,  
It is a perfect cure, as divers note.  
Fresh Hyssop boiled i● vinegar, is good  
To gargarise, as I have understood.    

Cough, or Hoarseness.  

Cold humours to the windpipe dropping rain  
Down from the head, which do the cough maintain.   

Some roasted nuts with honey stamped, is sure  
A long continued cough to heal and cure:  
If rheum doth drop, and liver putrify,  
Unto the head, being shaved, this apply.  
Some mustard lay upon the shaved place,  
The rheum will dry within a little space.    

Pleurisy.  

From much hot blood this bad disease comes in,  
Which hath recourse unto the tender skin  
About the ribs: the Patient must abide  
Hard breathing, fever, pricking in the side.   

To be let blood, I hold the safest way,  
The danger may be great, if you delay.  
It is conceived, that the herb of grace  
Received in drink, will cure the grieved place.    

Costiveness.  

Too much, or want of exercise, will bind,  
And we do certain meats restrictive find.   

Ste●p J●llop in good white wine over night.  
This drink will lose, and make digestion light.  
Sod Mallow roots, an● stamped with old hog's grease,  
And Bran laid to the Navel, will give ease.  
S●●mp sodde● Savine with hog's grease, and then  
Anoint the Navel, to cure costive men.    

The Flux.  

Excess of cold, or too much fruit to eat,  
Begets a Flux, so doth excess of heat.   

A Dog that eateth bones, will give thee a ●oord  
To bind the belly, take it on my word.  
Coriander seed being drunk, and acorns bind,  
Restrictive virtue in old cheese we find.  
Cow's milk with Iron sodden, or a stone,  
Is for the Flux the truest Physic known.    

The Colic.  

Some gross and slimy humours, or the wind  
Contained in the guts, the cause we find.  
Meats raw, and meats corrupt, but chief fat,  
And cold drink after heat engender that.  
The Colic in the belly causeth pain  
With griefs: the Patient doth his meat disdain.   

Take grains, and beat them small, then boil them well  
In Aqua vitae, wind if you'll expel,  
Old dung of beasts with frying oil apply  
Unto your side, all pains to mortify:  
March Mallows boiled in water three days,  
Grief in the bowels without doubt allays.    

The Worms in the Belly.  

Corrupted fleam doth in the bowels seat;  
Pains vex the belly, and desire to eat.   

Boil Garlic in your milk, which you must drink  
O●●lse some Brimstone: both will cure, I think.  
But Aloes Cic●tri●●, is the best  
To kill the Worms, and give the Patiented rest.    

The Hemerrbodies.  

Th● liver doth contain unwholesome blood,  
A●● Melancholic, which is never goo●▪  
Of this disease if you the Symptoms need,  
The fundamental veins break forth and bleed▪   

Ceruse,  Lead, and Oil of Roses tale  
With yolks ●f rostad eggs; a plaster male:  
The seed of anise burnt with honey, l●y  
Unto the gri●f, the Flux, and pain to stay.    

The Oppilation of the Liver.  

There some Apostume, or bad humours bid 〈◊〉  
The face ill-coloured, pains in the right s●de.   

Savery, and anise, Sage, and 〈◊〉 〈◊〉  
With Goat's dung: of these mixed 〈◊〉 pl●●ster 〈◊〉:  
Th●n Agaric●, Sense, and V 〈…〉 give▪  
To ●pe the 〈…〉 s, 〈◊〉 Nature to 〈◊〉.    

The Inflation of the Cod.  

Humours derived from too much cold or heat,  
Fall to the Cod, and cause inflations great.   

Goat's dung dissolved with Wine, will take away  
The swelling of the Cod, and pains allay.  
The Juice of walwort, common oil, bean flowers  
These temper well: they have an active power.    

The Mother.  

Excess of humours stop the flowers: the seed  
Within the Matrix may corruption breed.  
Cramps in the legs, and weakness in the feet,  
Pale colour, sadness in the Patient meet.   

In strong hot Win● Cloves, Garlick, Treacle tak●,  
The Mother than the Patient will forsake.  
Rue sod in oil, and stamped, will soon relieve,  
With Hen, and Goose-grease, where the sore doth grieve.    

The swelling of the Paps.  

Hot blood, and also hardened blood maintains  
The swell in the Paps, and grievous pains.   

Take Mallows stamp●, and hot, if breasts d● swel●.  
With common oil; this plaster makes them well  
If there be hollow ulcers in the breast,  
Goat's dung with honey, I esteem the best.  
Use Brimstone stamped with Wine, a plaster make,  
All hardness will the painful breasts forsake.    

The Consumption.  

Foul humours do descend: thin and sharp rheum  
Fall from the head, and doth the Lungs consume.  
Short cough, short breath, and faintness, never cease  
To be companions of this sad disease.   

Use for thy constant drink, strong, pleasant A●e  
Warmed by the fire, which shall thy strength rec●ll.  
Resort to merry men, that love thee well,  
And pray to God all discontents t' expel.  
I know more cures for it; but I protest,  
Amongst them all I censure this the best.    

Warts.  

All Warts, as I have rightly understood,  
Proceed from gross and melancholic blood.   

Arsenic on Warts with vinegar applied,  
Consume them all: this hath been often tried.  
The rind of Sallow burnt, and tempered well  
With Vinegar, all wa●ts and Scabs expel.    

For the Bleeding at the Nose.  

The bleeding of the Nose from heat doth flow,  
From too much blood, and sometimes from a blow.   

The Herb of Grace put to the nose, is good  
To st●p, and safely to restrain the blood.  
Blood burnt to powder, blown into the nose,  
Doth staunch the flowing blood, and wounds doth ●●es●.  
Burn F●og or Toad; the ashes than apply  
Un●o the place which bleeds: This virtue try.    

Of the Pains in the Lights.  

Rheum, heat and dryness, on salt meats to fe●d,  
Or drinking too much wine, this pain doth breed:  
Pains in the left side, shortness of the wind,  
And cough to follow this disease we find.   

Take gum Arabic, Dragant, Fra●k 〈…〉,  
M●k● pills with Honey, and with th●s●●i●pense.    

Against great desire to Fleshly lust.  

The use of active wine, delicious meat,  
Inflames the mind with Cupidineous heat,   

Camphire dissolve in oil; this ointment may▪  
Rubbed on the yard, all lustful actions stay.    

Against spitting of Blood.  

This from some bruise, or from a broken vein  
Proceeds, as best Physicians do maintain.   

Seethe some dry Figs filled up with Mustard seed,  
In White▪ wine, and at night on those sigs feed:  
And drink the Wine; for this will mundify,  
And from the stoppage of the Liver f●ee.    

To draw out Thorns or Splinters, or any thing which sticketh in the body.  

Some S●thern-wood compound with wholesome grease,  
To draw out thorns or i●on, if you please.    

The pain in Childbirth.  

Give Myrrh to drink in wine a little warm,  
Big as a nut, this will prevent much harm.  
The juice of Parsley in some drink is good,  
To cleanse the Matrix, and to purge the blood.     

Certain Rules to know the disposition of the Body by the Urine or Complexion.  

THe sight of Urine and Complexion, shows  
Where each Disease is seated, whence it flows.  
Into four parts the the Urine we divide,  
Which do our reason and our judgement guide.  
The first the Circle is, which floats above;  
By this, what pains lie in the Head, we prove.  
The second part under this Circle lies,  
The pain of Breast and Lungs which signifies.  
And the third part the middle doth possess,  
Which doth the Stomach, Liver, Milt express.  
The fourth part is the bottom, which doth t●ll  
What pains in Kidneys, Guts, and Bladder dwell.  
When any of these four parts mixed be  
With other matters by contingency;  
We then perceive wherein the chiefest harm  
Or grief consists: We use the Urine warm,  
O● fresh the morning. 'Tis a rule for all,  
Safely to close, or stop the Urinal:  
The Urine else will thicken and divide,  
And must again by sire be rectified.   

When th'Urine's red, and thick, 'tunderstood  
The patient's body's ho●, and full of blood:  
The best Physicians wisely do relate,  
And his complexion Sanguine nominate.  
When th'Urines red, and thin seems to the eye,  
The Patient's body is both hot and dry:  
We Choleric do this complexion call,  
Whose foul disease precedeth from the gall:  
When th'Urine's white and thick, I truly hold  
The Patient is by nature moist and cold:  
He's Phlegmatic; for we by reason know,  
From wa●ry humours his diseases flow.  
But when the Urine is both thin, and white,  
The Patient's cold and dry; and takes delight  
In no companion; but his constant folly  
Doth make him subject unto Melancholy:  
His blood by nature like the earth is dull,  
His face is pale, his heart of sadness full.  
When the Urine yellow, like the purest gold,  
Digestion's good, and perfect than we hold.  
If th'Urine doth like watery blood appear,  
Or else l●ke Saffron, or the flames of fire;  
These colours in sick bodies do foretell  
Heat in the Liver, and hot Fevers dwell:  
But that  moisture shows, which like ●ed wine;  
Or red earth doth to heaviness incline.  
When th'Urine looks like Ashes, or like Lead,  
Some grievous sickness in the body's bred.  
A deadly sickness I did oft foresee  
By Urine, which is black as coal may be:  
Black Urine doth proceed, as I presume,  
From burning heat, which nature doth consume:  
Black Urine shows the Milt is stopped, and then  
The Yellow-Jaundise will endanger m●n.  
The Urine pale, wherein white sands we spy,  
Doth in the Bladder the S●one signify.  
When th'U●ines thick and fat, but red the sand,  
The cruel Stone the Kidneys doth command.  
When th' Urine's pale, with scum and foam, we find  
The head is moist, the belly full of wind.  
Urine like milk, which comes but little out,  
Foreshews the fickness which we call the gout.  
When th'Urine's subtle, or like water thin,  
Pains in the Milt, or Dropsy may begin.  
The Urine red, with pebbles or with bells,  
Upon the breast some foul Imposthume tells:  
The Urine, which is in hot Fevers green,  
Deadly by reason of too much heat hath been.  
●f th'Urine looks like Lead, when that a dry  
Consumption holds the Patient, he will die.  
When that a swimming cloud is found or known  
In woman's Urine driving up and down,  
And mixed with shells; this symptom ne'er beguiled,  
But plainly shows, that woman is with child.   
FINIS.   

Books Printed or sold by William Leake at the sign of the Crown in Fleetstreet, between the two Temple-Gates.  

YOrks Heraldry. Fol.  
A Bible of a very fair large Roman Letter. 4.  
Orlando Furiosa, fol. wilkinson's Office of Sheriffs.  
Mirror of Justice. 8. Parson's Law. 8.  
Delamans' use of the Horizontal Quadrant.  
Wilbeys second set of Music, 3, 4, 5. and 6. Paris. 4.  
Corderius in English, 8.  
Dr. Fu●ks Meteors, with Observations. 8.  
Malthus Artificial Fireworks.  
N●es Gunnery and Fireworks  
C●●o Major with Annotations, by William Austin, Esq  
Mel Helicon●um, by Alex. Ross. 8.  
Nos●● te 〈…〉 sum, by Sir John Davis. 8.  
Animadversions on Lilies Grammar. 8.  
The History of Vienna and Paris.  
The History of Lazarillo de Tormes.  
Hero and Leander, by George Chapman.  
Mayer's Catechism. 8. Exercitatio Scholastica.  
Posing of the Accidence. Herbert's Travels, fol.  
Man become guilty, by John Francis Senal●, and Englished by Henry Earl of Monmouth.  
The Idiot in four books.  
The Life and Reign of Hen. 8. by the Lord Herbert. fol.  
Aula Lucis, or the house of Light.  
The Fort-Royal of holy Scripture, or a new Concordance of the chief heads of Scripture, by J. H.  
A Tragedy written by the most learned Hugo Grot●us, called (CHRISTUS PATIENS) and translated into English by George Sandy▪  
The Mount of Olives, or Solitary Devotions, by Henry Vaughan Sy●●●st, with an excellent Discourse of the blessed estate of Men in Glory: written by the most Reverend and holy Father d●s●●●, Arch bishop of Canterbury.  
The description and use of the double Horizontal Dyal, by W. O. whereunto is added the description of the General Horological Ring.  
The Rights of the People concerning Impositions, stated in a learned Argument, by a late eminent Judge of this Nation.  
France painted out to the life, the second Edition.  
The Garden of Eden, both parts.  
An exact Abridgement of the Records in the Tower of London, from the Reign of K. Edward the second, to K. Richard the third, of all the Parliaments holden in each King's reign, and the several Acts in every Parliament, by Sir Robert Cotton, Knight and Baronet.  
An Apology for the Discipline of the ancient Church, intended especially for that of our Mother the Church of England, in Answer to the Admonitory Letter lately published, by William Nicolson, Archdeacon of Brecon, and now Lord Bishop of Gloucester.  
●e Princed ' Amour, or the Prince of Love, with a collection of several Ingenious Poems and Songs, by the Wits of the Age. 8.  
●he Solemn League and Covenant Arraigned and Condemned, by the sentence of the Divines of London and Cheshire, etc. by Laurence Womack, now D. D. and Arch Deacon of Suffolk.  
The Repairer of the Breach: a Sermon by Dr. Washbourn. a Adieu to the Duke of Gloucester: a Sermon by Dr. Philpot.  
The Result of False Principles, or Error convicted by its own evidence, with D●o●rephes his Dialogues, by the Author of the Examination of Tylenus before the Tryers; whereunto is added a learned Disputation of Dr. Goads, sent by King James to the Synod at Dort.   

PLAYS.  
The Wedding. Philaster. The Hollander.  
The Merchant of Venice. The Strange Discovery.  
Maid's Tragedy. King and no King.  
●thello the Moor of Venice. The Grateful Servant.