POEMS On several CHOICE and VARIOUS SUBJECTS. Occasionally Composed By An Eminent Author.  
Collected and Published BY Sergeant-Major P. F.  
LONDON: Printed by Ja: Contrel; and are to be sold by S. Speed, at the Rainbow in Fleetstreet, near the inner Temple-gate. 1663.   

TO THE RIGHT REVEREND, And Innately Noble, Dr. Henry King, (Many years) Lord Bishop of Chichester, etc.  
My LORD●  
THere are divers Motives (humbly under Favour) which have induced me to this Dedication.  
The first, That besides those severe and high-solid Studies which attend Theological Speculations, (wherein your Lordship is eminent even to admiration) 'tis evidently known, my Lord, that you have not only a profound Judgement, but also a sublime Genius in Poetical Compositions. Now, my Lord, 'tis upon good Record, that Poets were the first Divines and Philosophers; and as a great Wit well observeth, Poetry is the clearest Light to prove that Man hath an Intellectual Soul, and Ray of Divinity shining in him.  
The second Motive was, my Lord, That I find in the Works of this Excellent Author, some signal Passages that discover the particular Observance and high Veneration not only he hath (but many thousands more) of your Lordship's dear Relations, and your own most Unparallelled Merits.  
The third Motive was, my Lord, That I might lay hold on this happy opportunity of publicly confessing those Obligations I cannot now fairly Conceal, nor yet fitly Cancel; that the World as well as your most honourable Lordship may be sensible of these Overtures of my devoted Gratitude; which till I can exemplify in a Prolixer Present, I beseech your Lordship to accept this small Homage and contracted Tender of his humble Devoir, who is otherwise unlimited,  
My Lord, And in all ample Duty and Obedience, Your LORDSHIP'S Most faithful Honourer, AND Sincerely devoted Servant, P. F.   

To the Reader.  
NOt to know the Author of these Poems, were an Ignorance beyond Barbarism, as 'twas said of a famous person in France: yet I held it superfluous to prefix his Name in the Title-Page, he being known and easily distinguished from others by his Genius and Style, as a great Wit said lately of him, Author Hic ex Calamo notus ut ungue Leo.  
He may be called the prodigy of his Age, for the variety of his Volumes: for from his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Parley of Trees, to his 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉, or Parley of Beasts, (not inferior to the other) there hath passed the Press above forty of his Works on various subjects; useful not only to the present times, but to all posterity.  
And 'tis observed, that in all his Writings there is something still New, either in the Matter, Method or Fancy, and in an untrodden Tract. Moreover, one may discover a kind of Vein of Poesy to run through 〈◊〉 body of his Prose, in the Concinnity 〈◊〉 succinctness thereof all along.  
He teacheth a new way of Epistolizing▪ and that Familiar Letters may not only consist of Words, and a bombast of Compliments, but that they are capable of the highest Speculations and solidest kind of Knowledge.  
He chalks out a Topical and exact way for Foreign Travel, not roving in general Precepts only.  
In all his Histories there are the true Rules, Laws and Language of History observed.  
What infinite advantages may be got by his Dictionaries and Nomenclature by all Professions and Nations!  
How strongly and indeed unanswerably doth he assert the Royal Right in divers learned Tracts, to the unbeguiling and conversion of many thousands abroad as well as at home! etc.  
Touching these Poems, most of them ne'er saw public Light before; for I got them in Manuscripts, whereof I thought fit to give the Reader an Advertisement.   

De Ornatissimo, Viroque omni fariàm pererudito Acris, & Ignei Ingenii, Polyglotto ad Prodigium usque Dom. JACOBO HOWELL Maridanensi, Tam ex Majorum ceris, quam sui Ipsius Meritis Armigero, etc.  
SIc Phaebi Deluh●● patent; sic tota Recessus  
Pandit Cyrr●a suos, funditque oracnla praegnans  
Anglia, Cambri●cae & Corti●a rem●gi●t aulae,  
Nempe nou●m Aeonidunt Proles Montaccola fontem  
Ostendit, sacrasque aperit Tritonidis aroes  
Howelli Generosa Domus, Celeberrima Gentis  
Hoeliae, Patriique 〈◊〉 memorabile fundi.  
Tolle Coronatas Stirps Maridunia cristas,  
Howellumque Tuum ventura in saecula jactes  
Indigenis peperisse plagis, quâ monstrat Avitos  
Insignis Fortuna lares, seriesque votusta  
Sanguinis à longo volv●ntis flumina Rivo;  
Ad Cujus gavisi olim Cristalla sedere  
Grandaevi Druides, pa●●lisque studere sub umoris  
Ornorum Bardi, & nemorum secondere lustris.  
Vnde patet, nec vana ●ides, genus esse Jacobi  
De seri● Druidum, suffusaque 〈◊〉 dudum  
Enthea primae vis spirasse oracula 〈◊〉.  
Ergo 〈◊〉 Majorum vana facessat,  
Nec sibi Primores cunctos vetus arroget aevum;  
Creta Panomphaeum quid progenuisse Tonantem  
Intumet? aut veteres sic altercantur, Homerus  
Qu● fuerat de sede satus? Quid culta superbit  
Scaligero Verona suo? Quid Mantua foelix  
Virgilio praecone tumes? En Cambria nobis  
Mantua, deque suis Vates educitur oris  
Maeonio nil Vate minor, Cunabula cujus  
Circum, tot Charitum croceis Examina turmis  
Mellifluos fecere favos, ea gratia Scriptis  
Aurea, libratoque sedet sub carmine nervus,  
Et gravitas fictae non affectata loquelae.  
Scilicet à Teneris docti vestigia Secli  
Vsque sequi Tibi cura fuit; veterumque labores  
Volvere limatos, avidisque Heliconida labris  
Exhaustis Vacuare cadis. 
a Eruditissimus Dom▪ Harley Scholae Hereford. Archi-didascalus.  Harlaeus honoris  
Primitias insignis habet, Qui Numine dextro  
Tam Tibi, quam celebri Fratri primordia jecit  
Vrbs Quem 
b Frater nostri Jacobi qui Episcop. Bristoliensis mori●batur.  Bristoliae dudum dignata Tiarâ est  
Praesulis, & sacram vel adhuc reminiscitur umbra●.  
O foelix Howelle nimis novisse Magistrum  
Harlaeum cujus Gens Herefordia stirpem  
Jactet, & ingentem tollat per saecula famam!  
Illius auspiciis solidis, epheba Juventus  
Pieriis afflata modis, quum nobile Flacci  
Ante oculos saltabat Epos; & Plectra Lucani  
Pharsalico concinna chely. Tum mite Terenti  
Inge●●um, & stricto servorum scommata socco,  
Plautinosque sales potâsti impubibus annis  
Ilelluo Graecorum Laticum. Mox Sydere vers●  
Ipse novum moliris iter, quâ Dule● Lycaeum  
Oxoniae plenos reserat siti●●●elbus ●mnes▪  
Heic Jesu sacrata Domus Te amplectitur ulnis  
Admissum geminis, & di●t pocula Lucis  
Castalio cum lacte dabat. Sub sensibus hausto●  
Tum logicos primum gryphos, artesque loquendi  
Digeris, & solide formâ methodoque locatis,  
Venturae Vigil instauras fundamina Famae.  
Ind Sophistaeo magis inspirata Su●urro  
Mens Tua, Te Socium nullo opponente creavit  
Collegi veneranda Cohors. Nec sistitur ingens  
Impetus, humanae qui supra nubila vitae  
Gestit, & aprico foelix feriatur olympo.  
Ergo Philosophiae sublimia culmina scandens  
Occultas reseras sedes, ubi Scrinia mundi  
Naturaeque Arcana habitant: ubi cernitur omnis  
Quid Divina velit, vel suaserit Ethnica Virtus.  
Quicquid Socratico manavit ab ordine; quicquid  
Clara Cleantheae praescripsit Turba Lucernae;  
Quicquid Erycthraeis Cynicorum Secta studebat  
Gymnasiis; quicquid dixit, tac●itque loquendo  
Pythagoras Howelle Tuum est, Qui abstrusa latebris  
Eruis ingenio, Rerumque oracula pandens,  
Concipis immensos dilato pectore mundos.  
Nec Tua Fama Domi, Patriisve morabitur antris,  
Vecta per extremum nonis Juvenilibus orbem,  
Et Regum consueta Aulis, interque potentes  
Europae Dominos porrectas sumere laurus.  
Te Juvenem cognovit Iber; Te celsa Philippi  
Regia Catholici Madriti vidit Agentem  
Principis Adventu Caroli, stupuitque loquentem,  
Tractantemque diu alterni Molimina Sceptri.  
Ind Revertentem Borealis Syderis Atlas  
Ille Comes Praeses Te Sunderlandius imis  
Secretis admisit amans, & Tanta Scientem,  
Callentemque foras, propriis praef●cit habenis.  
Nec Patrio requiescis agro, sed caerula suloa●  
Cymbrica, ad ingentem Danorum flebiliis Aul●●  
Mitteris Orator Reginae busta Sophiae  
Exequiasque dolens, Tua circum Rostra Licestro  
Legato, & Danûm Procerum stipante Corona▪  
Quae Regio in terris nostro non nota Jacobo?  
Quem pede diffusi penetrantem viscera Regni  
Teutonides videre sui; Quem Gallia dudum  
Cum Batavo, & Veneti, & Siculi; & stupuere 〈◊〉  
Bomaque tot linguas uno sub corde prementem  
Mirati, Poterantque levi discrimine, cuncti  
Indigenam dixisse suum. Tunc Patria dignum  
Te Palmis censebat ovans, quum ad Tecta Senat▪  
Prisca ciebat amans, & ter successibus aequis  
Ad sua delegit Te Parlamenta Sedentem.  
N●c Patriae cessabat amor, sed honoribus urgens  
Continuis, credebat adhuc se parva dedisse  
Ni meritis majora daret: sic nobilis audis  
Clericus Augusti Caroli qua jungeris imis  
Consiliis Tu Scriba cluens, Regnique labores  
Multiplices, Aulaeque vices Atlantis ad insta●  
Collibras, Patrioque humeros Supponis Olympo.  
Haec pro Te dudum dignissi●a, Patria feci●▪  
Pr● Patriâ nec parva facis, favilive rependis  
Officio, quae fecit amor: Communia Testor  
Commoda, & attritis operosa volumina praelis  
Non uno numeranda Die. T● muta movente  
Organa, 
c Dendrologia.  Vocales fud●re oracula Sylvae,  
Et Trunci didicere loqui, Dodonea Quer●us,  
Frondiferi Regina chori T●●i Brachia pandens  
Tollit ad astra comas, 〈◊〉 Superbior exi●  
A foliis famosa ●uis, Quibus, Illa fatetur  
Se Tibi debendam, conte●taque Serta dicandam  
●ivica, Romuleis nil inferior a Triumphls.  
Vtque doces Sylvas, & tardo stipite Truncos  
Humanos simulare sonos, sic 
d Therologia.  Bruta Ferarum  
Guttura conformans, nostrae Vernacula linguae  
Distinctasque doces haurire, & reddere voces.  
Exemplum dabit illud opus sublime, Priori  
Vix dispar, ubi gliscit amor, Pietasque Parenti  
Sceptrifero; & Fidei Mortales Publica ductim  
De Brutis Documenta bib ant, trepidentque Rebelles  
Excandescentem Britonum irritare Leonem.  
Nec cessat Tua mira manus, celerive remissas  
Indulges calamo ferias, quia vana perosus  
Otia, victuris laetare laboribus, unam  
Vix perdens sine luce diem, Testabitur orbi  
Grandius Illus Opus 
e Opus aliud clucubratissimam, cui titulus Lexicon Tetraglotton.  Bis Bino Idiomate coctum  
Vtile Principibus, Populoque Orientis & Euri  
Orbis, & à toto divisis orbe Britannis.  
Heic veluti speculo Criticismata cuncta loquelae  
Cantabricae discernit Iber; Siren Jacobo  
Ausonios modulante sonos, de finibus exit  
Iralus allectus propriis; Gallusque Garummam  
Atque Ararim rapido referens sermone, Britanglos  
Advolat, alternae miscens commercia linguae.  

f Aliud volumen non minoris molis quam emolumenti.  Hisce voluminibus Nomenclatura stupendi  
Subjunctum est Opus ingenii 
g Aliud volumen, Pentaglotton Proverbiorum.  Proverbia Gentis  
A tenebris memoranda trahens, formasque lequendi  
Priscorum Britonum, Quorum venerabile semen  
Cambria servat adhuc, primosque à sedibus actos▪  
Commemorabit avos: Tua Cambria clare Jacobe  
Cui Superum Ductu Tu post tot secla renascens  
Adderis Exempla●, dum sic virtutibus amplis  
Instauras Patriam, & virtutes dotibus aequas.  
Egregie nasci laus est: sed gloria major  
Pro Patriâ nasci, & primus Chronista creari  
Regis ab Historiis. Et quis dubit●verit amens  
Te Titulis minus ire Tuis, Oneriveque lacertos  
Impariles, qui tanta manu Monumenta leuâsti,  
Pressaque vix binis portanda Volumina Rhedis.  
Lector avet majora? Domi quod scripseris olim  
Contempletur opus, plorandaque damna 
h Sobriae ejus inspectiones in actiones longi Parlimenti.  Senatu●  
Praelongi nu●●eret, cunciasque ab origine causas  
Pendeat, & nostri recolet Commenta Jacobi.  
Si ulteriora petit? Peregrè succinctus ad or as  
Longinquas eat, & Te 
i Directiones peregre proficiscentibus.  Directore, viarum  
Praescius, Europae varias adremiget urbes,  
Conductnsque Tuo formet vestigia Filo.  
H●c Filo conductus, aquis scopul●sque sedente●  
Europae Dominam 
k Hstoria ejus Voluminosa Venetum.  Venetum mirabitu● 〈◊〉  
Celsaque Parthenopis 
l Par etiam Neopolitanorum.  Regalia culmina 〈◊〉  
In Chartis Majora Tuis. Tun● versus ad 〈◊〉  
Austriacas veterum Imperium venerabitur 〈◊〉  

m Aliud etiam volumen de lmper●o Germano.  Teutonidum, & senio certantia vasta 〈◊〉  
Moenia Pannonico toties ditata Tributo.  
Ind pedem fessum relegens, per Regna feret●r  
Gallica, & Hoelios agnoseet ritè labores  
Liligerae Septem tractantes lustra Tiarae,  
Translatique Polo 
n Aliud exquisitum volumen de vita Ludovici Galliae xiii.  Ludovici Busta, Suique  
Armandi parvo non designata papyro.  
Sed quid ego gracili calamo, vel carmine eurto  
Hoelianas vanus comprehendere chartas  
Molior, Herculeos quum tot recitare labores  
Herculeus labor alter erit? Testabitur Anglis  
Vrbs vetus Heroum 
o Aliud nobile volumen cui titulus Londinopolis.  Trinobantia gloria Ciuûm  
Ingemo ditata Tuo. Testabitur orbi  
Cultius Illud opus quo splendit 
p Aliud opus usus omnifarii, cui titulus Epistolae Hocllianae.  Epistola ●rebr●  
Flexanimo concinna stylo, quo Faedera belli  
Et passim Momenta Togae, Faciesque nitenti  
Cernitur Europae Speculo, & velamine dempto  
Obvia Summorum pateant Penetralia Regum.  
Tantis Posteritas cumulabit honoribus, olim  
Vulgatos Howelle libros. Tantumque labori  
Debebit Gen●●●●stra Novo, strips aurea Cujus,  
Formaque Primaevas nil postponenda Sorores  
Apello Charites, affiataque caelitus Aestro  
Pectora, fatidicum fibris Spirantia Phae●am.  
A Jove Principium sumens nam Pagina prima  
Sacra Sapit, gratoque fluunt condita lepore  
Caetera Mellifluos redolentia carmina Flores  
Laurigeroque novas Tibi contextura corollas.  
Ind per humanae raptus spectacula scaenae  
Quam parvas habi●ura moras Mortalia monstras,  
Indignoque licet depressus Carcere, Mentis  
Remigio super astra volas, Supremaque versans,  
Discis ab immenso quam discrepat angulus Orbe,  
Et circumfusi quam curta Scientia Mundi  
Aeterno collata Deo. Tumet inde Papyrus  
Laudibus Heroum, & Carolum Te Vate salutat,  
Augurioque pio jamdudum rite potitis  
Induperatoris summos promittit honores  
Quum procul Austriacae vol●cres, succumbere Gallo 
q Innuit Po●mata ejus in lucem jamjam proditura.   
Gaudebunt, Gallusque Anglo parere Leoni.  
Heic etiam Octavi nitidum sine bile Character  
Pingitur Henrici, Quod latius Acta loquetur  
Et Genium, quam Windsorii monumenta superbi  
Majorum constructa manu. 
r Nobilissimus ille nuper Edoa●dus Dorcestriae comes,  Sacyillia Pubes  
Dorsigenis praelustris honos, caput eruet ●mbris  
Auspiciis Howelle Tuis. His 
s Illustrissimus Henricus Ma●chi● Durotrigum; Comes the Kingston, etc. & Katharinae filiae comitis de Derby.  Marchio grand●●  
Pierpontiadum Durotrigumque cacumen  
Tollitur, & Celsae Katharinae stemmata dudum  
Tremoliâ deducta Domu. Proh celse columna  
Henrice armorum, & sublimibus Artibus: ingens  
Pro Secli Coryphaee Tui! Quos Fulguris instar  
Antevolas, patrioque creas Miracula Mundo.  
Hunc Chartis Howelle sonas, Cui gloria vastis  
Digna voluminibus, gravidoque canenda Cothurno;  
Illi dumque litas laudes, aliisque sub isto  
Codice, diffuso spargis Tua nomina mundo  
Lataque non propriis claudi Praeonia Chartis.  
Sic raptim cecini● P. PISCATO●.   

POEMS Upon several Emergent Occasions.  

The Progress of the Human Soul: OR, The whole History of Man.  
MAn is that great Amphibium, which enrouls  
Within himself a Trinity of Souls:  
He runs through all Creations by degrees;  
First, he is only Matter on the Lees;  
Whence he proceeds to be a Vegetal;  
Next Sensitive; (and so Organical.)  
Then, by Divine Infusion, a third Soul,  
The Rational doth the two first control:  
But when this Soul comes in, and where she 〈◊〉  
Distinct from th' other, no Dissector tells▪  
Now, which no creature else can say, that state  
Makes her (by Grace) to be Regenerate.  
She than becomes a Spirit: so at last  
A Devil, or a Saint, when She hath cast  
That clog of Fl●sh, which yet she takes again▪  
To perfect her Felicity or Pain.  
Thus Man from first to last, is kin to all  
Cretures, in Heaven, in Earth, and Hell's Black Hall.   

A Speculation.  

THat which the smallest Star in Sky  
Is to the Sun in Majesty;  
What a Monk's Cell is to High-noon,  
Or a New-cheese to a Full-moon:  
No more is Man, if one should dare  
Unto an Angel him compare.   

What to the Eagle is a Gnat,  
Or to Leviathan a Sprat;  
What to the Elephant a Mouse,  
Or Shepherd's Hut to Caesar's House:  
No more is Man, if one should dare  
Unto an Angel him compare.   

What to a Perl a Pebble-stone,  
Or Cobbler's Stall unto a Throne;  
What to the Oak the basest Shrub,  
Or to Noah's Ark a Bucking-Tub:  
No more is Man, if one should dare  
Unto an Angel him compare.   

Then let not Man, Half-child of night,  
Compare with any Heavenly Wight:  
He will appear on that account  
A Molehill to Olympus Mount.  
Yet, let This still his comfort be,  
He hath a capability  
To be of Heaven himself: but on this score,  
If he doth not make Earth his Heaven before.    

Of some Pious Meditations, when Prisoner for the King in the Fleet.  

AS Roses 'mong sharp Prickles grow,  
As Crystal's got of Ice and Snow;  
As Perls in muddy Muscles breed,  
As Gold on barrenest earth doth feed;  
As Diamonds in Craggs and Rocks,  
As Ambar cruds 'twixt Neptune's shocks:  
So 'mong those bleak Fleet-blasts which Fortun● blew,  
These calm mild strains of Meditations grew.    

A Contemplation upon the shortness and shal● 〈◊〉 of Human Knowledge.  

IF of the smallest Star in Sky  
We know not the Dimensity:  
If those pure sparks that Stars compose,  
The highest Human Wit do pose;  
How then, poor shallow Man! canst thou  
The Maker of these Glories know?   

If we know not the Air we draw,  
Nor what keeps Winds and Waves in awe:  
If our small Sculls cannot contain  
The flux, and saltness of the Main;  
If scarce a Cause we ken below,  
How can we the Supernal know?   

If it be a mysterious thing,  
Why Steel should to the Loadstone cling:  
If we know not why Jet should draw,  
And with such Kisses hug a Straw:  
If none can truly yet reveal  
How Sympathetick Powders heal:   

If we scarce know the Earth we tread,  
Or half the Simples there are bred,  
With Minerals, and thousand things  
Which for Man's health and food she brings:  
If Nature's so obscure, then how  
Can we the God of Nature know?   

What the Bats Ey is to the Sun,  
Or of a Gloworm to the Moon;  
The same is Human Intellect,  
If on our Maker we reflect;  
Whose Magnitude is so immense,  
That it transcends both Soul and Sense.   

Poor Purblind-Man, then sit thee still;  
Let Wonderment thy Temples fill.  
Keep a due distance: do not pry  
Too near, lest like the silly Fly,  
While she the Wanton with the Flame doth play,  
First fries her wings, than fools her life away.    

A Prophetic Poem (partly accomplished) to his present Majesty then Prince, 1640.  
A Parallel 'twixt his Highness and the Black Prince.  
SIR,  
WAles had one glorious Prince, for hair and h●●e  
(Which colour sticks unto him still) like You▪  
He travelled far; he won his Spurs in France;  
And took the King, the King, O mighty chance!  
Then his victorious Troops afresh he gathers;  
And with the Gray-Goose wing his shafts new feathers.  
He beats a march up the Pyreney Hills,  
And the Cantabrian Clime with terror fills,  
To reinthrone Don Pedro Castills King;  
Of which Heroic Act all Story's ring.  
Your Royal Sire travelled so far, and they  
Of all our Princes only made that way.  
Who knows, great Sir, but by just Destiny,  
Your Bunch of youthful Plumes may further fly:  
But, Faucon-like, you may with full summed wing  
The Eagle cuff, and from his Talons wring  
The 
a Palatinat.  Prey, or in exchange seize on his Ore,  
And fix your Standard on the Indian Shore.  
'Twas by a 
b Carolus Magnus.  Charles, France once the Empire 〈◊〉  
'Twas by a 
c Carolus Quintus.  Charles, Spain also drew that 〈◊〉▪  
Why may not Britain challenge the next Call,  
And by a Charles be made Imperial?  
Sic Vaticinatur J. H.   

A Rapture upon Delia.  

COuld I but catch those Golden Rays  
Which Phoebus at High Noon displays,  
I'd set them on a Loom, and frame  
A Scarf for Delia of the same.   

Could I that wondrous Black come near,  
Which Cynthia, when she mourns, doth wear;  
Of a new fashion I would trace  
A Mask thereof for Delia's face.   

Could I but reach that Green and Blue,  
Which Iris decks in such rare hue  
From her moist Bow, I'd drag them down  
To make my Delia a Summer-Gown.   

Could I those Whitely Stars come nigh  
Which makes the Milky-way in Sky,  
I'd Poach them, and at Moonshine dress,  
To make my Delia a Hougou Mess.   

Thus would I diet, thus attire  
My Delia Queen of Hearts and Fire:  
She should have every thing Divine,  
What might befit a Seraphine.   

And 'cause ungirt unblessed we often find,  
One of the lesser Zones her Waste should bind.    

Of the true Observation of Lent.  
NOw Lent is come, let us refrain  
From Carnal Cretures quick or slain:  
Let's curb, and macerat the Flesh;  
Impound, and keep it in distress  
For forty days, and then we shall  
Have a Replevin from the thrall  
By that blessed Prince, who for this Fast  
Will give us Angels food at last.  
But to abstain from Bees, Hog, Goose,  
And let our Appetites go loose  
To Lobsters, Crabs, Prawns, or such Fish,  
We do not Fast, but Feast in this.  
Not to let down Lamb, Kid, or Veal;  
Hen, Plover, Turkicock or Teal,  
And eat Botargo, Caviar,  
Anchovies, Oysters, and like fare:  
Or to forbear from Flesh, Fowl, Fish,  
And eat Potatoes in a Dish  
Done over with Ambar, or a Mess  
Of Ringoes in a Spanish Dress:  
Or to refrain from each hot thing  
Which Water, Earth, or Air, doth bring;  
And play a hundred pounds at Gleek;  
Or be at Saunt when we should sleep:  
Or to leave play with all high Dishes,  
And feed our thoughts with Wanton Wishes;  
Making the Soul, like a Light Wench,  
Wear Patches of Concupiscence.  
This is not to keep Lent aright,  
But play the Juggling Hypocrite.  
He keeps Lent more, who tames the inward Man,  
Then he, who makes the outward seed on Bran.   

Before the History of Lewis the 13. (with his Cardidinal Richlie●) called Lustra Ludovici. HISTORIAE SACRUM.  

IMmortal Queen, great Arbitress of Time,  
Bright Torch and Herald of All-conquering Truth,  
Which Things, years thousands since, keep'st still in prime,  
And so maintain'st the World in constant Youth;  
Making that Morn Man first was made of Clay,  
Appear to us as fresh as Yesterday.   

Rich Magazine of Patterns, which may serve  
As Spurs to Virtue, or as Curbs to Vice;  
Which dost Brave Men-embalm, and them conserve  
Longer than can Arabian Gums or Spice:  
And of their Memories dost Mummy make,  
More firm than that hot Lybia's Sands do 〈◊〉▪  
Rare Garden, and rich Orchard, wherein grow  
Fame's golden Apples, Virtue's choicest flowers;  
Who twistest Garlands for the learned Brow,  
And with thy Branches mak'st triumphant Bow●▪  
Inoculat this Bud on thy great Tree,  
That it may bourgeon to Eternity.    

Before LONDINOPOLIS▪ OR, A new History of London: Paralleled with the greatest Cities on Earth.  
Of London-Bridge.  
WHen Neptun from his Billows London spied,  
Brought proudly thither by a High spring Tide,  
As through a Floating Wood, he steered along,  
And Dancing Castles clustered in a throng:  
When he beheld a mighty Bridge give Law  
Unto his Surges, and their fury awe:  
When such a shelf of Cataracts did roar,  
As if the Thames with Nile had changed her shore:  
When he such massy Walls, such towers did eye,  
Such Posts, such Irons upon his back to lie;  
When such vast Arches he observed, that might  
Nineteen Rialtoes make for depth and height:  
When the Cae●ulean God these things survay'd,  
He shook his Trident, and astonished, said,  
Let the whole Earth now all her Wonders count,  
This Bridge of Wonders is the Paramount.   

The same in Latin, which for their weight I also insert.  
De Ponte Londinensi, ejusque stupendo situ, & structurâ.  
CVm Londinense● Neptunus viderat urbem  
Vectus ibi propriis, atque revectus Aquis,  
D●m densam penetrat Sylvam, Lucósque ferentes  
Pro ramis funes, pro foliisque Cruces:  
Cum superimpositum Torrenti in Flumine Pontem  
Viderat, & rapido ponere Jurae Freto:  
Cum tantos muros, ferrumina, Castra, tot Arcus  
Spectat, & haec tergo cuncta jacere suo,  
Arcus qui possent totidem formare Rialtos  
Metiri si quis summa, vel Ima cupit,  
Haec Deus Undarum aspiciens, Fluxusque retrorsum  
Tundere, & horrendos inde boare sonos,  
Nunc mihi quanta velis Terrae Miracula pandas,  
Est primus Mundi Pons, ait, Iste stupor.   

Before Bishop Andrews most holy Meditaaions 〈◊〉 Prayers.  
IF ever any merited to be  
The Universal Bishop, this was Herald  
Great Andrews, who the whole vast SEA did 〈◊〉  
Of Learning, and Distilled it in his Brain.  
These pious Drops are of the purest kind  
That trîckled from the Limbeck of his Mind.   

Before that large and claborat Work, called▪ The German Diet;  
Which, in many Princely Orations, displays  
The Power and Weakness,  
The Plenty and Want,  
The Antiquity and Modernness,  
The Advantages and Defects,  
The Glory and Reproach,  
The Virtues and Vices,  
of all the Countries of Christendom.   

AXIOMA.  
Contraria juxta se posita magis elucescunt.  
BLack sidelong put, or standing opposite,  
Doth use to add more lustre unto White.  
A Perl shines brighter in a Negro's Ear:  
Some Ladies look more fair who Patches wear:  
So Vice, if counterplaced, or seated near,  
Makes Virtue show more lovely, strong, and clear.  
This Book hath Vice and Virtue, White and Black:  
'Tis like a Crystal-Glass foiled on the back:  
'Tis like a Chessboard, (or an Ermines Skin)  
Chequered with two Extremes, both out and in.  
It weighs and winnows good from bad, which any  
Of Europe's Kingdoms have, (and they have many.)  
Now, if those purer Regions of the Sky,  
Where every Star's a perfect Monarchy;  
If the bright Moon, and glorious Sun above  
Have Spots and Motes, as Optic Glasses prove;  
How then can these gross earthly Regions be,  
And We that people them, from taintures free?  
This were for us to arrogat that Bliss  
Which Adam could not keep in Paradis.   

Before my Lord of Cherberry's History of King Hen. 8.  

Vice's in Kings are like those spots the Moon  
Bears in her body, which so plain appear  
To all the world: so Virtues shine more clear  
In them, and glitter like the Sun at Noon.  
This King had both; yet counter-balance all,  
You'll find th' outpoising Grain in Virtue's Scale.   

He was more King than Man: his Gallantries  
Surpassed his Frailties; Had his Passions bend  
To Him as France did, and his Parliament;  
Or had his Set been equal to his Rise:  
Of all those glorious Kings wore England's crown,  
He had marched with the foremost in Renown.   

This learned Lord, this Lord of Wit and Art,  
This Metaphysic Lord gives us a Glass,  
Wherein we may discern in every part  
This boisterous Prince, He cuts Him out in Brass,  
In everlasting Brass: so that I may avow,  
Old Harry never had a Monument till now.    

An Analytical Character or Dissection of Hen. 8.  
THis great King may be considered, 

1. In his Person, and outward Proportion.  
2. In his Properties, and inward Disposition.  
3. In his Political Capacity, and Actions Civil and Martial.    
Touching the first, he was of a goodly Stature, of a Majestic awing Presence, of a clear sanguine Complexion; which made him apt to give and take Tentations of that Sex which was too hard for the First, the Strongest and Wisest Man. He had a competency of spirit to man that large Bulk throughout: for he was vigorous and robust, witness his overthrowing Sir William Kingston horse and man in the presence of three Queens. His Dexterity at Tilt, the Barriers, and all other heroic Exercises at his interviews with the French King, and Emperors: for when he appeared in any Action, He outwent all others.  
Touching the second, it subdivides itself into his Virtues and Vices. For his Virtues, by advantage of Education, (being designed for the Church) he was well versed in the Arts, a good 〈…〉 Divine. He had an harmonious soul, for he was a good Musician, having among other things composed two Anthems, which were usually sung 〈◊〉 his Chapels. Touching his Vices, being of a replete sanguine Constitution, he had more matte● 〈◊〉 the heat of Concupiscence to work upon. 〈◊〉 were his two Contemporaries, Charles the Emperor, and Francis of France, less peccant in this kind: for they also had their Amourettes, their 〈◊〉 debita vasa, and divers natural Children. Having parted with Queen Katharin his first wife, and with his Cardinal, his Sanguine Humour came to 〈◊〉 somewhat sanguinary, and inclining to cruel; 〈◊〉 had the Church, the Parliament, and the Judg●●●● 〈◊〉 what he did. He was too constant to himself 〈◊〉 any thing entered into his head; which the 〈◊〉 termed Wilfulness. He was more prodigal in ●●●●ding, then covetous in getting money, by making himself an Actor in some things, which had bee● more for his advantage had he been only a Sp●●●tor.  
Touching the third, he was very knowing in the Art of Government, being cut out as it were for a Kings for he kept all in an exact Obedience: and had his Passions been as subject to him as were his People, he had been the rarest of Kings. He also may be ranked among the best Lawmakers. He got divers glorious Titles, which his Progenitors never had: for he was the first Defender of the Faith, and promised to be styled Christianissimus. He was the first English King of Ireland. He was the first Vniter of the ancient Britain's and the English. He was called by the Consistory of Rome, Liberator Orbis, when the Pope was freed. Francis the first acknowledged him, under God, to be the chiefest Deliverer of him and his Children from Spain. He was styled Protector of the famous Clementine League; and offered to be Patron of the Lutherans. Nor did he know what it was to be beaten all his Life. He had an Emperor to serve him in the Wars, and he was counted the common Umpire of Christendom. In fine, England may be said to have had little or no Commerce abroad in point of Matters of State, till the Reign of this King.   

OF TRANSLATIONS, Upon rendering into English a choice Venetian ●●●mance, called, EROMENA, By Mr. James Howard.  
SOme hold Translations not unlike to be  
The wrong-side of a Turkey Tapestry,  
Or Wines drawn off the Lees, which filled in 〈◊〉  
Lose somewhat of the taste they had in Cask.  
'tis true, each Language hath an Idiom,  
Which in another couched comes not so home.  
Yet I ne'er saw a piece from Venice come  
Had fewer Thrums set on our Country Lome.  
This Wine is still one-eared, and brisk, though 〈◊〉  
Out of Italian Cask, in English Butt.   

Another.  
FAir Eromena in Italian tire  
I viewed, and liked her fashion wondrous well  
But in this English habit I admire  
That still in Her the same good Grace doth dwell.  
So have I seen Trans-Alpin Cions grow,  
And hear rare fruit, removed to Thames from 〈◊〉▪   

The Dedication  
To Great Britain, of that Voluminous Work, Lexicon Tetraglotton: OR, An English-French-Italian-Spanish DICTIONARY.  
REnowned Albion, Nature's choice delight,  
Neptune's chief care, and Arsenal of might;  
Who in thy Watery Orb dost sparkles lie,  
As Cynthia shines in the Caerulean Sky:  
Or, as a Tortoise in her Circling Shell,  
Dost live secure within thy Rocky Cell  
A World within thyself, fit to defend  
Thine own, and fit no further to extend.  
Yet with thy winged Coursers dost give Law  
Unto the Ocean, and his Surges awe.  
The Baltic Waves, and Hyperborean,  
The vast Atlantic, Euxin, Indian;  
The Adriatik, Tyrrhen, Hellespont,  
The White, the Black, the Red, all Seas are wont  
To do thee homage, and rich tributes bring  
Unto thy Thames by way of Offering;  
Which makes Civilians hold, That thy Sea-bound  
Reach to the Shores of all thy Neighbours round▪  
To Thee, Triumphant Isle, I do address  
This Work of Oil and Toil: be Patroness  
Of thy own Tongue, which here 'twixt Colum●● strong▪  
Throughout a massy Fabric all along  
Goes in the Van of Europe's noblest Tongues,  
Though they want somewhat of her Nerves 〈◊〉 Lungs.   

Of the Original of the English Tongue, And her Association With the Italian, Spanish, and French, etc.  
FRance, Italy and Spain, ye Sisters Three,  
Whose Tongues are branches of the Latian 〈◊〉  
To perfect your odd number be not shy  
To take a Fourth to your Society  
The high Teutonik Dialect, which bold  
Hengistus with his Saxons brought of old  
Among the Britain's, when by Knife and Sword,  
Of England he did first create the Word.  
Nor is't a small advantage to admit  
So Male a Speech to mix with You, and knit:  
Who by her Consonants and tougher strains,  
Will bring more Arteries 'twixt your soft Veins:  
For of all Tongues, Dutch hath most Nerves and Bones,  
Except the Pole, who hurls his Words like Stones.  
Some fain, that when our Protoplastick Sire  
Lost Paradis by a just kindled ire,  
He in Italian tempted was, in French  
He fell a begging Pardon, but from thence  
He was thrust out in the high Teuton Tongue  
Whence English, though much polished since, is sprung.  
This Book is then an inlaid Piece of Art;  
English the Knots which strengthen every part.  
Four Languages are here together fixed:  
Our Lemsters' Ore with Naples Silk is mixed.  
The Loire, the Po, the Thames, and Tagus glide  
All in one Bed, and kiss each others side.  
The Alps and Pyrenean Mountains meet:  
The Rose and Fowrdeluee hang in one street.  
Nay, Spain & 
* 1657.  Redcapt France a League here strike.  
If'twixt their Kings and Crowns there were the like,  
Poor Europe should not bleed so fast, and call  
Turbans at last unto her Funeral.   

Before a great Volume of PROVERBS, In Five Languages.  
THe Peeples Voice, the Voice of God we call;  
And what are Proverbs but the Peeples 〈◊〉  
Coined first, and current made by common cho●●e  
Then sure they must have weight and truth with●●  
They are a Public Heritage, entailed  
On every Nation, or like Hirelomes' nailed,  
Which pass from Sire to Son, and so from Son  
Down to the Grandchild till the world be done.  
They are Free-denizons by long descent,  
Without the Grace of Prince or Parliament:  
The truest Commoners, and inmate Guests;  
We fetch them from the Nurse and Mother's breasts  
They can Prescription plead against King or Crown▪  
And need no Affidavit but their own.  
We thought it then well worth the pains and 〈◊〉  
To muster up these Ancients in one Host:  
Which here like furbished Medals we present  
To all that breathe in Christendom and Kent.   

Of the strange vertu of Words, Before The Great NOMENCLATURA; Wherein are the proper Terms in four Languages belonging to Arts Mechanical and Liberal: Which Poem consists of above Sixty Sentences.  

Word's are the Souls Ambassadors, who go  
Abroad upon her Errands to and fro.  
They are the sole Expounders of the mind,  
And correspondence keep 'twixt all mankind.  
They are those Airy Keys that open (and wrest  
Sometimes) the Locks and Hinges of the Breast.  
By Them the Heart makes Sallies: Wit and Sense  
Belong to Them: They are the Quintessence  
Of those Ideas which the Thoughts distil,  
And so calcine and melt again, until  
They drop forth into Accents in whom lies  
The Salt of Fancy, and all Faculties.   

The World was framed by the Eternal Word,  
Who to each Creature did a name afford;  
And such an Union made 'twixt Words and Things,  
That every Name a Nature with it brings.  
Words do involve the greatest mysteries:  
By Them the Jew into his Cabal pries.  
The Chymik says, In Stones, in Herbs, in Wor●●  
Nature for every thing a cure affords.  
Nay, some have found the Glorious Stars to be  
But Letters set in an Orthography  
The Fate of Kings and Empires to foretell,  
With all things else below, could we them spell.   

That gran distinction between Man and 〈◊〉  
We may to Language chiefly attribute.  
The Lion roars, the Elephant doth bray;  
The Bull doth bellow, and the Horse doth 〈◊〉  
Man speaks: 'Tis only man can Words create▪  
And cut the Air to sounds articulate  
By Nature's special Charter. Nay, Speech ca●  
Make a shrewd discrepance 'twixt Man and 〈◊〉  
It doth the Gentleman from Clown discover;  
And from a Fool the grave Philosopher:  
As Solon said to one in Judgement weak,  
I thought thee wise until I heard thee speak.  
For Words in man bear the most Critic part:  
We speak by Nature, but speak well by Art.  
And as good Bells we judge of by the sound,  
So a Wise man by Words well placed is found.  
Therefore it may be called no vain pretence,  
When 'mong the rest the Tongue would be Senee,  
The tongue's the Rudder which man's fancy guides▪  
Whilst on this world's tempestuous Seas he rides.   

Words are the Life of Knowledge; They set free,  
And bring forth Truth by way of Midwifery:  
The activ'st Cretures of the teeming Brain;  
The Judges who the inward man arraign:  
Reasons chief Engine and Artillery  
To batte● Error, and make Falsehood fly:  
The Canons of the mind, who sometimes bounce  
Nothing but War, than Peace again pronounce.  
The Rabbins say, Such is the strength of Words,  
That they make deeper Wounds than Spears or Swords.  
This Book may then be called a Magazine  
Of Arms and Words: It keeps, and doth combine  
Four Tongues: 'tis like a Frame on divers Wheels;  
One follows still the other at the heels.  
The smooth Italian, and the nimble Frank,  
The long-lunged Spanish march all in a rank:  
The English heads them, so commands the Van;  
And reason good in this Meridian.   

But Spain brings up the Rear, because we know  
Her Counsels are so long, and Place so slow.    

Upon the great Drammatical Work of B. 〈◊〉 Fletcher, published 1646.  
WHat? Now the Stage is down, dar'st tho● pear,  
Bold Fletcher, on this tottering Hemisphere?  
Yes; Poets are like Palms, which the more 〈◊〉  
One casts upon them, grow more strong & 〈◊〉  
'Tis not Jove's Thunderbolt, or Mavors Spear,  
Nor roaring Neptune's Trident Poets fear.  
Had now Grim Ben been breathing, with what 〈◊〉  
And high-swollen fury had he lashed this Age?  
Shakespeare with Chapman had grown mad, 〈◊〉  
The gentle Soc, and lofty Buskins worn  
To make their Muse welter up to the Chin  
In blood: Of feigned Scanes no need had been  
England, like Lucian's Eagle, with an Arrow  
Of her own Plumes piercing her heart quite thorough  
Had been the Tragic Scoene, and subject fit  
To exercise in real Truths their wit.  
Yet, none like high-winged Fletcher had been found  
This Eagles dismal Destiny to sound:  
Rare Fletcher's Quill had soared up to the Sky,  
And drawn down Gods to see the Tragedy.  
Live, famous Drammatist, let every Spring  
Make thy Bay flourish, and fresh Burgeons bring:  
And since we cannot have Thee tread the Stage,  
We will applaud Thee in thy silent Page.   

To his late Majesty, at the Dedication unto Him of DODONAS GROVE, OR The VOCAL FORESTE: Wherein there were many Prophetical Passages.  
IN times of yore, when Earth was yet but Clods,  
Trees for their Guardians had no less than Gods:  
Jove did protect the Oak, Bacchus the Vine;  
Minerva said, The Olive shall be mine:  
Venus the Myrtle for her Minion took;  
Apollo would the Laurel overlook.  
My Trees need no such Patrons; one mild glance  
Of Caesar's eye, will best their Buds advance.   

To her Majesty, now Queen-mother.  
BOurgeon da Gran Bourbon, qui soubs ses doux rameaux  
Maintint la France en Paix apres tant de travaux  
Vint Ans entiers, ayant en bonne guerre  
Les Princess Brovillons mis quatre fois enterr●▪  
I' ay veu souventes fois son Nom luysant en 〈◊〉,  
Mais non pas engrauè jusqu' à present en Arb●●,  
Parmi ces Bois icy l' on trouvera (peut estre)  
Madame, Votre Nom 
* Arhetine (Virtuosa) Anagr. of Henrieta.  taillè en gross Letter,   

To Prince Charles, (now King.)  
TO correspond now with the Verdant 
* Maii 2.  〈◊〉  
And your Green years, the Top-branch of a 〈◊〉  
A Bud shot from the Rose and Flower- 〈…〉  
The best of stems Earth yet did e'er prod●●●  
What Present can I bring that more agrees  
Both with the season, and your years, than 〈◊〉  
They soon will cast their leaves, and Autumn find,  
But may You shed nor leaves, nor blooms, nor rin●,  
Till muffed with hoary Moss, you do behold  
Fair Cions from yourself grow tall and old.   

Before the VOCAL FORESTE, To the knowing Reader, Touching the Progress of Learning.  
SCience in India first her beams displayed,  
And with the Rising Sun herself conveyed  
Through Chaldee into Egypt; then She came  
Among the Greeks, and so to Tiber Swum:  
Whence clammering o'er the Alps, these Northwest parts  
She civilised, and introduced the Arts.  
In Albion's woolly Isle, she welcome found,  
Which for her Bards and Druids grew Renowned  
So called, because they commonly did use  
On God and Nature's works amongst Trees to Muse,  
And fix their Speculations; for in Rind  
Of Trees was Learning swaddled first, I find.  
Th' Egyptian Priests, and Brackmans' used of old  
Their fancies in dark Characters to fold.  
The Greeks and Latins used to Poetize  
By Emblems, Fictions, and Mythologies:  
For it was held a pleasing piece of Art,  
Things Real under Shadows to impart.  
Then be not rash in censure, if I strive  
An ancient way of Fancy to revive;  
While Druyd-like conversing thus with 〈◊〉  
Under their bloomy shade I Historize.  
Trees were ordained for shadow, and 〈◊〉  
Their Leaves were the first vestment of 〈◊〉   

To the Common Reader.  

OPinion is that high and mighty Dame  
Which rules the World, and in the 〈◊〉 doth frame  
Distaste or liking: for in Humane Race,  
She makes the Fancy various as the Face.  
Sometimes the Father differs from the Son,  
As doth the Gospel from the Alcharon,  
Or Loyola from Calvin, which two brands,  
In strange Combustions hurl fair Europe's Lands  
So that amongst such Atoms of Mankind,  
You scarce can two encounter of one mind.   

This makes my Trees all Aspen, 'cause they 〈◊〉  
Lie open to every Wind, and vulgar Gust:  
Yet, much they fear not any Critics knock,  
Unless they chance to stumble 'mong the bl●●●   — Ex quovis Stipite non fit Mercurius.  

To the Critical Reader.  
IF Satyrs here you find, think it not strange;  
'Tis proper Satyrs in the Woods should range:  
And for free Speech, why may not Verse or Prose  
Sat under Trees as safely as the Rose?  
Yet here is nothing, though a Grand Inquest  
You should Empannel, but may bide the Test:  
For Petty Juries, let the Reader know,  
Composures of this kind stoop not so low.   

Touching the Virtue and Use Of Familiar Letters.  
LOve is the life of Friendship; Letters are  
The life of Love, the Loadstones that by rare  
Attraction make souls meet, and melt, and mix,  
As when by Fire exalted Gold we fix.  
They are those winged postilions that can fly  
From the Antarctic to the Artic Sky:  
The Heralds and swift Harbingers that move  
From East to West on Embassies of Love.  
They can the Trepiks cut, and cross the Line,  
And swim from Ganges to the Ithone or Rhine:  
From Thames to Tagus; thence to Yy●●  
And terminat their journey with the Su●  
They can the Cabinets of Kings unserue,  
And hardest intricacies of State unclue.  
They can the Tartar tell what the Mogor,  
Or the Great Turk, doth on the Asian shore  
The Knez of them may know, what Pres●er  
Doth with his Camels in the torrid Zone.  
Which made the Indian Inca think, They 〈◊〉  
Spirits who in white sheets the Air did tea●.  
The lucky Goose saved Jove's beleaguered flili  
Once by her noise, but oftener by her Quill.  
It twice prevented Rome was not o'errun  
By the tough Vandal, and the roughhewn 〈◊〉  
Letters can Plots though moulded under 〈◊〉  
Disclose, and their fell Complices confound:  
Witness that Fiery Pile which would have blo●●  
Up to the Clouds, Prince, People, Peers, and 〈◊〉  
Tribunals, Church and Chappel, and had dried  
The Thames, though swelling in her highest 〈◊〉  
And parboiled the poor Fish, which from her 〈◊〉  
Had been tossed up to the adjoining Lands.  
Lawyers as Vultures had soared up and down;  
Prelates like Magpies in the Air had flown,  
Had not the Eagles Letter brought to light  
That Subterranean horrid work of Night.  
Credential Letters States and Kingdoms tie,  
And Monarches knit in Ligues of Amity;  
They are those Golden Links that do enchain  
Whole Nations, though discinded by the Main:  
They are the Soul of Trade; They make Commerce  
Expand itself throughout the Universe.  
Letters may more than History enclose,  
The choicest Learning both in Verse and Prose.  
They Knowledge can unto our souls display  
By a more gentle and familiar way.  
The highest points of State and Policy,  
The most severe parts of Philosophy,  
May be their subject, and their Themes enrich  
As well as private businesses, in which  
Friends use to correspond, and Kindred greet,  
Merchants Negotiate, the whole world meet.  
In Seneca's rich Letters is enshrined  
What ere the ancient Sages left behind:  
Tully makes His the secret symptoms tell  
Of those Distempers which proud Rome befell,  
When in her highest flourish she would make  
Her Tiber of the Ocean homage take.  
Great Antonin the Emperor did gain  
More Glory by his Letters then his Reign,  
His Pen outlasts his Pike; each Golden Li●e  
In his Epistles doth his name enshrine.  
Aurelius by his Letters did the same,  
And they in chief immortallize his fame.  
Words vanish soon, and vapour into Air,  
While Letters on Record stand fresh and fair,  
And tell our Nephews who to us were dear,  
Who our choice Friends, who our Familiars were.  
The bashful Lover when his stammring Lips  
Falter, and fear some unadvised slips,  
May boldly court his Mistress with the Quill,  
And his hot passions to her breast instil:  
The Pen can furrow a fond Females heart,  
And pierce it more than Cupid's feigned Dart.  
Letters a kind of Magic Virtue have,  
And like strong Philtres Human Souls enslave.  
Speech is the Index, Letters Ideas are  
Of the informing Soul: they can declare,  
And show the inward man, as we behold  
A face reflecting in a Crystal mould.  
They serve the Dead and Living; they become  
Attorneys and Administers. In sum:  
Letters like Gordian Knots do Nations tie,  
Else all commerce and love 'twixt men 〈◊〉 die.   

To the Sagacious Reader.  

UT clavis portam, sic pandit Epistola pectus;  
Clauditur Haec Cerâ, clauditur illa serâ.   

As Keys do open Chests,  
So Letters open Breasts.    

Upon a Rare and Recent Persian TRAGY-HISTORY. 1655.  

THis is an Age of Wonders; every Clime  
Abounds with Prodigies: there is no Crime,  
Not a notorious Villainy or Fact,  
No soul insandous Thing, or ugly Act,  
That ever Adam's Sons did perpetrate,  
But we have flagrant instances of late.  
For Sacrilege, and horrid Blasphemy,  
Base Lies, created Fears and Perjury;  
For Scripture-pride, Extortion, Avarice,  
(The root of all our ills, and leading vice)  
For Public Frauds, False Lights, and Fatuous Fires▪  
Fanatic Fancies clad in Faith's attire;  
For Politicians, if one could rake Hell,  
He hardly there could find their parallel.  
Did Machiavil, or Methro live again,  
They would be counted Saints matched with these men:  
For Murder, and the crying sin of Blood,  
The like, but one, was never since the Flood.  
In some, we may for these, and thousand 〈◊〉,  
Vie Villainies with any Age before.   

Nor is it Europe only that doth breed  
Such Monsters, but the Asian Regions feed  
As bad; witness this Persian Tragedy,  
Compiled with so much Art and Energy:  
As if the Soul of Ben, of ponderous Ben,  
Did move in you, and guide both Brain and 〈◊〉  
You make the Actors with such passion speak,  
As if the very Lines with Blood did reek.   

Go on, brave Spark, improve thy Talon 〈◊〉  
And gain more ground on the Pierian Hill▪    

An Elegy upon EDWARD late Earl of Dorset, 1651.  
Who died about the time of voting down the House of PEERS.  

Lord's have been long declining, (we well know)  
And making their last Testaments: but now  
They are Defunct, They are extinguished All,  
And never like to rise by this Lords fall.  
A Lord whose Intellectuals alone  
Might make a House of Peers, and prop a Throne,  
Had not so dire a Fate hung o'er the Crown,  
That Privilege, Prerogative should drown.  
Where ere he sat he swayed, and Courts did awe,  
Gave Bishop's Gospel, and the Judge's Law  
With such exalted Reasons which did flow  
So clear and strong, that made Astraea bow  
To his Opinion: for where He did side,  
Advantaged more than half the Bench beside.  
But is great Sackvil dead? Do we him lack?  
And will not all the Elements wear Black?  
Whereof he was composed a perfect Man,  
As ever Nature in one frame did span.  
Such Highborn thoughts, a Soul so large 〈◊〉  
So clear a Judgement, and vast Memory;  
So princely Hospitable, and brave mind,  
We must not think in haste on earth to find,  
Unless the Times would turn to Gold again,  
And Nature get new strength in forming men  
His Person with it such a state did bring,  
That made a Court as if he had been King.  
No wonder, since He was so near a kin  
To Norfolk's Duke, 
Eliz.  and the great Maiden 〈◊〉  
He courage had enough by conquering One,  
To have confounded that whole Nation:  
Those parts which single do in some appear,  
Were all concentred here in one bright Sphere  
For Brain, Tongue, Spirit, Heart, and Person●●●  
To mould up such a Lord will ask an Age.  
But how durst pale white-livered Death seize o●  
So dauntless and heroic a Champion?   

Yes, To die once is that uncancelled Debt  
Which Nature claims, and raiseth by Eschet  
On all Mankind by an old Statute past  
Primo Adami, which will always last  
Without Repeal; Nor can a second Lease  
Be had of life, when the first term doth cease.   

Mount, Noble Soul; among the Stars take place,  
And make a new One of so bright a Race  
May Jove outshine, that Venus still may be  
In a benign Conjunction with Thee,  
To check that Planet which on Lords hath loured,  
And such malign Influxes lately poured.  
Be now a Star thyself for those which here  
Did on thy Crest and upper Robe appear:  
For thy Director take the Star we read,  
Which to thy Saviour's Birth three Kings did lead.   

A Corollary.  
THus have I blubbered out some Tears and Verse  
On this Renowned Hero and his Hearse:  
And could my Eyes have dropped down Perls upon't  
In lieu of Tears, God knows I would have done't:  
But Tears are real, Pearls for their Emblems go,  
The first are fitter to express my Wo.  
Let this small Mite suffice, until I may  
A larger tribute to his Ashes pay:  
In the mean time this Epitaph shall shut,  
And to my Elegy a period put.   

HEre lies a Grandee, by Birth, Parts, and Mind,  
Who hardly left his Parallel behind:  
Here lies the Man of Men, who should have been  
A King, An Emperor, had Fortune seen.   
Totus in Lachrymas solutus sic singultivit, I. H.   

An EPITHALAMIUM Upon the Nuptials of that Princely Pair, 〈◊〉 Lo. Marquis of Dorchester, And the Lady Katherine, Daughter to the 〈◊〉 Earl of Derby:  In a Dialog 'twixt Philemon and Silvius. Philemon. 
WHat Object's that which I behold  
Dazzling my Eyes with Gems and Gold  
Her Face, me thinks, darts such a Ray  
That adds more brightness to the Day:  
Her Breath perfumes the place, Her Curls and Hair  
Like Indian Spice Aromatize the Air.  
A sparkling White and Black breaks from her sight  
Like to the Diamonds redoubling light;  
As she doth walk the very ground and stone,  
Turn to Field- Argent which she treads upon.  
A Mortal sure she cannot be,  
But some transcending Deity.  
My dearest Silvius, pray unfold  
Who's that rare creature I behold?  Silvius. 
She is a Princess and a Bride  
Goes to the Temple to be tie  
In Nuptial Bonds; Her Stars will not permit  
That at the Vestal fires she longer sit.  
She's Derby's Royal Blood, Derby le Gran,  
And now she travels to the I'll of Man.  
She of the Princely Orange is a Branch,  
Imped on the high Trimovillan stem of France,  
Two of the fairest Kingdoms strove, and tried  
Their utmost to complete this lovely Bride.  
'Tis She which makes 'twixt Gems and Gold  
That Constellation you behold.  Philemon. 
But who's that comely Sanguine Peer  
Which on her heart-side walks so near?  
He likewise makes all Argent as he goes:  
Look at his feet how thick the Cinqfoyl grows.  Silvius. 
'Tis wise and wealthy Pierrpoint, who renowns  
With Titles three of England's chiefest Towns:  
A precious ponderous Lord, whose sole Estate  
A Jury of new Barons might create,  
Patron of Virtue, Chivalry and Arts,  
'Cause he himself excels in all these parts.  
'Tis he who by the hand doth hold  
That Demi-Goddess you behold.  Philemon. 
Is't so? then my Autumnal Muse shall 〈◊〉  
An Hymenaeum, and fetch back her Spring  
This subject a fresh vigour doth inspire,  
And heats my brain with an unusual fire.   

An HYMENAEUM, Or Bridal-Sonet:  
Consisting of four Stanzas, and to be sung by 〈◊〉 Voices, according to a choice Air set thereupon▪ By Mr. Will. Webb.  

1 Chorus.  
MAy all felicity betid  
This Princely Bridegroom and his Bride.  
May those Delights this Morn shall bring  
Be endless, as their Nuptial Ring.  
May they be constant, and exceed  
Each others Wishes, Hopes and Creed.  
May the three Regions of the Air  
Pour showers of Blessings on this Pair,  
May Sol and Cynthia with their Rays  
Silver their Nights, and Gilled their Days.   

2 Chorus.  
All Joys attend, and best of Fate,  
This Noble Marquis and His Mate.    

An HYMENAEUM.  

2 Stanza.  
YE gentle Nymphs of Trent and Dee  
Make haste to this solemnity:  
Your streams and beds now meet in one  
By this High-sprung Conjunction.  
Ye Wood-Nymphs who green Garlands wear  
In Shirewood Lands and Delamer;  
Ye Dames of Helicon attend,  
And Graces your sweet presence lend;  
Lucina come, and pray there be  
Employment in due time for thee.   

Chorus.  
May all Felicity betid  
This Noble Bridegroom and his Bride.    

An HYMENAEUM.  

3 Stanza.  
MAy they such gallant Males produce,  
Both to the Rose and Flowerdeluce;  
That England's Chivalry and French  
May multiply, and bourgeon hence:  
Whose Branches shooting o'er the Main,  
May knit and blossom here again,  
That Pierrpoints Lion and Cinqfoyl,  
May ramp and root in every Soil:  
Nor may their Noble Race wear out  
Till Plato's great year wheel about.   

Chorus.  
May all Felicity betid  
This Noble Bridegroom and his Bride.    

An HYMENAEUM.  

4 Stanza,  
Closing with a serious Gradual Vote.  
MAy all the Elements conspire  
To make them blessed in their desire.  
May all the Stars on them reflect  
Their mildest looks in Trine Aspect.  
May all the Angels them defend  
From every thing doth ill portend.  
May Angels, Stars, and Elements,  
Afford them such complete contents,  
That they have nothing else to wish  
But a Persueverance of Bliss.   

Chorus.  
All Joys attend, and best of Fare,  
This Noble Marquis, and his Mate.    

A Poem Heroic, Presented to his late Majesty for a New- 〈…〉  
THe World's All-lightning Ay had now 〈◊〉  
Through watery Capricorn his course 〈◊〉  
Old Janus hastened on, his Temples bound  
With Ivy, his grey hairs with Holly crowned,  
When in a serious quest my Thoughts did 〈◊〉  
What Gift, as best becoming, I should choose  
To Britain's Monarch (my dread Sovereign 〈◊〉  
Which might supply a New-year's Offering;  
I rummaged all my stores, searched all my 〈◊〉  
Where nought appeared, God wot, but 〈◊〉  
No far-setched Indian Gem cut out of Rock,  
Or fished in shells were trusted under lock:  
No piece which Angelo's strong fancy hit,  
Or Titians' Pencil, or rare Hylliards Wit:  
No Ermines, or black Sables, no such skins  
As the grim Tartar hunts, or takes in gins;  
No Medals, or rich stuff of Tyrian Die;  
No costly Bowls of frosted Argentry:  
No curious Landscape, or some Marble Piece  
Digged up in Delphos, or elsewhere in Greece.  
No Roman Perfumes, Buffs or Cordovans  
Suppled with Amber by Moreno's hands:  
No Arras or rich Carpets freighted o'er  
The Surging Seas from Asia's doubtful shore.  
No Lion's Cub, or Beast of strange Aspect,  
Which in Numidia's fiery Womb had slept.  
No old Toledo Blades, or Damaskins;  
No Pistols, or some rare-springed Carrabi●●.  
No Spanish Ginet, or choice Stallion sent.  
From Naples, or hot Africs Continent.  
In fine, I nothing found I could descry  
Worthy the hands of Caesar or his Ey.  
My Wits were at a stand, when lo, my Muse  
(None of the Choir, but such as they do use  
For Laundresses or Handmaids of mean rank,  
I knew sometimes on Po and Isis Bank)  
Did softly Buz,—  

Muse.  
— Then let Me something bring  
May hanfel the New-year to Charles my King,  
May usher in bifronted Janus.   

Poet.  
Thou fond foolhardy Muse, thou silly thing  
Which amongst the Shrubs & Reeds dost use to sing,  
Dar'st thou perk up, and the tall Cedar clime,  
And venture on a King with gingling Rhyme?  
Though all thy Words were Perls, and Letters Gold,  
And cut in Rubies, or cast in a mould  
Of Diamonds, yet still thy Lines would be  
Too mean a Gift for such a Majesty.   

Muse.  
I'll try, and hope to pass without disdain,  
In New-years-Gifts the Mind stands for the 〈◊〉  
The Sophy, finding 'twas well meant, did do●g●  
Few drops of running-water from a Swain.  
Then sure, 'twil please my Liege if I him bring  
Some gentle drops from the Castalian Spring.  
Though Rarities I want of such account,  
Yet have I something on the Forked mount.  
'Tis not the first, or third access I made  
To Caesar's feet, and thence departed glad:  
For as the Sun with his male heat doth render  
Nile's muddy slime fruitful, and apt t' engender  
And daily to produce new kind of Cretures  
Of various shapes, and thousand differing featu●  
So is my fancy quickened by the glance  
Of his benign aspect and countenance,  
It makes me pregnant, and to superfaete,  
Such is the vigour of his beams and heat.  
Once in a Vocal Forest I did sing,  
And made the Oak to stand for Charles my King  
The best of Trees, whereof (it is no vant)  
The greatest Schools of Europe sing and chant.  
There you shall also find Dame ARETINE,  
Great Henry's Daughter, and great Britain's Queen;  
Her Name engraven in a Laurel Tree,  
And so transmitted to Eternity;  
For now I hear That Grove speaks besides Mine,  
The Language of the Loire, the Po, and Rhine;  
And to my Prince (my sweet Black Prince) of late  
I did a youthful subject dedicate:  
Nor do I doubt but that in time my Trees  
Will yield me fruit to pay Apollo's Fees,  
To offer up whole Hecatombs of praise  
To Caesar, if on them he cast his rays:  
And if my Lamp have Oil, I may compile  
The Modern Annals of great Albion's Isle,  
To vindicate the truth of Charles his Reign  
From scribbling Pamphletors, who story stain  
With loose imperfect passages, and thrust  
Lame things upon the world, taken up in trust.  
I have had audience (in another strain)  
Of Europe's greatest Kings, when Germane Main,  
And the Cantabrian waves I crossed, I drank  
Of Tagus, Seine, and sat at Tiber's bank:  
Through Scylla and Carybdis I have steered,  
Where restless Aetna belching flames appeared.  
By Greece, once Pallas Garden, than 〈◊〉▪  
Now all o'erspread with Ignorance and 〈◊〉:  
Nor hath fair Europe her vast bounds throughout,  
An Academe of Note I found not out.  
But now, I hope, in a successful prore,  
The Fates have fixed me on sweet England's shore;  
And by these various wander true ay found,  
Earth is our common Mother, every ground  
May be ones Country, for by birth each man  
Is in this world a Cosmopolitan,  
A freeborn Burgess, and receivs thereby  
His Denization from Nativity.  
Nor is this Lower World but a huge Inn,  
And men the rambling passengers, wherein  
Some, warm Lodgings find, and that as soon  
As out of Nature's Closets they see Noon,  
And find the Table ready laid; but some  
Must for their Commons troth, and trudge for room:  
With easy pace some clime Promotions Hill;  
Some in the Dale, do what they can, stick still:  
Some through false Glasses Fortune smiling spy,  
Who still keeps off, though she appears hard by:  
Some like the Ostrich with their wings do flutter,  
But cannot fly or soar above the Gutter:  
Some quickly fetch, and double Good-Hopes Cape;  
Some ne'er can do't, though the same course they shape:  
So that poor Mortals are so many Balls  
Tossed some o'er Line, some under Fortune's walls.  
And it is Heavens high pleasure Man shouldly  
Obnoxious to this partiality,  
That by industrious ways he should contend  
Nature's short pittance to improve and mend.  
Now Industry ne'er failed at last t' advance  
Her patient Sons above the reach of Chance.   

Poet.  
But wihther rov'st thou thus—?  
Well, since I see thou art so strongly bend,  
And of a Gracious Look so confident;  
Go, And throw down thyself at Caesar's feet,  
And in thy best attire thy Sovereign greet:  
Go, an auspicious and most blissful year  
Wish him, as ere shined o'er this Hemisphere;  
Good may the Entrance, better the Middle be,  
And the Conclusion best of all the three.  
Of Joy ungrudged may each day be a debtor,  
And every Morn still usher in a better;  
May the soft-gliding Nones, and every Ide,  
With all the Calends, still some good betid;  
May Cynthia with kind looks, and Phoebus' rays  
One clear his Nights, the other gilled his Days:  
Free Limbs, unphysiked Health, due Appetite,  
Which no Sauce else but Hunger may excite:  
Sound Sleeps, green Dreams be His, which represent  
Symptoms of Health, and the next days content:  
Cheerful and vacant thoughts, not always bound  
To Council, or in deep Ideas drowned:  
(Though such late traverses and tumults might  
Turn to a lump of care, the Airiest wight.)  
And since while fragile flesh doth us array,  
The Humours still are combating for sway  
(Which, were they free of this Reluctancy,  
And counterpoised, Man would immortal be.)  
May Sanguine o'er the rest predominate  
In Him, and their malignant flux abate.  
May his great Queen, in whose imperious Ey  
Reigns such a world of winning Majesty  
Like the rich Olive, or Falernian Vine,  
Swell with more Gems of Cions Masculine:  
And as her Fruit sprung from the Rose and Luce,  
(The best of Stems Earth yet did ere produce)  
Is tied already by a Sanguine Lace,  
To all the Kings of Europe's highborn Race;  
So may they shoot their youthful Branches o'er  
The Surging Seas, and graft with every shore.  
May home-commerce and Trade increase from far,  
That both the Indies meet within his bars,  
And bring in mounts of Coin his Mints to feed,  
And Bankers (Trafics chief Supporters) breed,  
Which may enrich his Kingdoms, Court & Town,  
And ballast still the Coffers of the Crown:  
For Kingdoms are as Ships, the Prince his Chests  
The Ballast, which if empty, when distressed  
With storms, their holds are lightly trimmed, the Keel  
Can run no steady course, but toss and reel.  
May his Imperial Chamber always ply  
To his desires her wealth to multiply,  
That she may prise his Royal Favours more  
Than all the wares fetched from the great Mogor.  
May the grand Senate, with the Subjects right,  
Put in the counter-Scale the Regal might  
The flowers o'th' Crown, that they may prop each other,  
And like the Grecians Twin live, love together:  
For the chief glory of a people is  
The power of their King, as Theirs is His.  
May he be still within himself at home,  
That no just Passion make the Reason roam:  
Yet Passions have their turns to rouse the Soul,  
And stir her slumbering spirits, not control.  
For as the Ocean beside Ebb and Flood  
(Which Natures greatest Clerk ne'er understood)  
Is not for sail, if an impregning wind  
Fill not the flagging Canvas; so a mind  
Too calm, is not for Action, if desire  
Heats not its self at Passions quickening fire:  
For Nature is allowed sometimes to muster  
Her Passions, so they only blow, not blus●er.  
May Justice still in her true Scales appear,  
And Honour fixed in no unworthy Sphere,  
Unto whose Palace all access should have  
Through Virtue's Temple, not through Pluio's 〈◊〉.  
May his true subjects hearts be his chief Fo●●▪  
Their Purse his Treasure, and their Love his 〈◊〉  
Their Prayers as sweet Incense to draw down  
Myriad of Blessings on his Queen and Crown.  
And now that his glad presence did assuage  
That fearful Tempest in the North did rage:  
May those Frog-vapours in the Irish Sky  
Be scattered by the Beams of Majesty,  
That the Hibernian Lyre give such a sound,  
May on our Coasts with joyful Echoes bound.  
And when this fatal Planet leaves to lowr,  
Which too too long on Monarchies doth power  
His direful influence, may Peace once more  
Descend from Heaven on our tottering shore,  
And ride in triumph both on Land and Main,  
And with her Milk-white Steeds draw CHARLES his Wain:  
That so for those Saturnian times of old,  
An Age of Perl may come in lieu of Gold.  
Virtue still guide his course; and if there be  
A thing as Fortune Him accompany.  
May no ill Genius haunt him, but by's side  
The best protecting-Angel ever bide.  
May He go on to vindicate the right  
Of Holy things, and make the Temple bright,  
To keep that Faith, that sacred Truth entire,  
Which he received from Solomon his Sire:  
And since we all must hence by th' Ir'n Decree  
Stamped in the Black Records of Destiny,  
Late may his Life, his Glory ne'er wear out,  
Till the great year of Plato wheel about.    

Before The History of NAPLES, Called, PARTHENO●E, Or, The Virgin-City.  
Salve Parthenope, Decora Salve.  

PArthenope, a City bright as Gold,  
Or if the Earth could bear a richer Mould,  
Is come to greet Great Britain, (Queen of Isles)  
And to exchange some Silks for Wool: She smiles  
To find that Cloth should wear and feel so fine  
As do her Grograns; she doth half repine  
That Lemsters' Ore, and Spires of fallowed Grass  
The Leaves of Mulberries should so surpass  
Which so abound in Her, with every thing  
Which pleasure, wealth, or wonderment can bring,  
That Nature seems to strive how she should please  
Herself, or Us with rare varieties.  
There her own Eawd to be she may be said,  
As if the Wanton with herself she played.   

Let England then strew Rushes all the way  
To welcome in the fair Parthenopay:  
For I dare say, she never yet came o'er  
In such a Garb to visit any shore.    

Of the most curious Gardens, Groves, Mounts, Arbours, etc. Contrived, and lately made by The Lord Viscount Killmorry, At Dutton-Hall in Cheshire.  
A Prosopopoeia to Cheshire.  
CHeshire, thou Shire of Men, of Mines & Mounts,  
Of Squires and Barons, Palatines and Counts,  
Of curious Groves and Arbours, Walks & Woods,  
Prophetic Trees and Castles, Founts and Floods,  
Of stately Dee, whereon in times of yore,  
Four Kings an English Monarch rowed ashore.  
Dee who runs sporting through thy wanton Vale▪  
Descending proudly from high-crested Wales.  
More Rarities thou hast, could they be told  
Then once thy Roman Legion was of old;  
Which here I will not venture to enclose,  
Th' are fitter for a Volume in rich Prose.  
But now, 'mong thy choice Landscapes Dutt●●-H●ll,  
For Mount, Grove, Arbour, Well, surpasseth all.  
Killmorry Mount with Morhalls Grove, Ann's Well,  
And Dutton Arbour bear away the Bell;  
A Mount, which all the Muses might invite,  
And make them Parnasse-Hill abandon quite.  
A Grove, which chaste Diana with her train,  
And all the Nymphs of Greece might entertain  
A Well for Virtue, which defiance bids  
To all, except her Neighbour Winefrids  
Whose rare Sanative Waters are so pure  
That sundry sorts of Maladies can cure.  
Oh, could they cure the madness that now reigns,  
The odd Vertigo which distracts the Brains  
Of many thousands, that Lycanthropy,  
Turns men to wolves by strange Transformity!  
A Transformation England never knew,  
Till she brought forth this Hellbred ugly Crew;  
Such a prodigious Metamorphosis,  
Poor baffled England never felt like this.  
And as this Princely seat so much excels,  
So do the Lord and Lady who there dwells;  
A brave wise Peer, a gallant fruitful Dame;  
Both of a taintless and far-spreading fame,  
Blessed with an Offspring numerous and fair;  
The Gerard's hence, the needham's have an Heir,  
And Duttons too: three ancient Families  
From this Prolifique Hall now have their rise.  
In sum: This Noble Lady and her Peer,  
Of any Earthly Mortals come most near,  
In point of Happiness and state of Bliss,  
To those white souls who people Paradis.   

Before that Exquisite large Piece, A Survey Of the City and Signory of Venice.  

COuld any State on Earth immortal be,  
Venice by her rare Government is she.  
Venice, great Neptune's Minion, still a Maid,  
Though by the Warlik'st Potentats essayed,  
Yet she retains her Virgin-water pure,  
Nor any foreign mixtures can endure,  
Though, Siren-like, on Shore and Sea, her face  
Enchants all those whom once she doth embrace.  
Nor is there any can her Beauty prize  
But he who hath beheld her with his eyes.  
These following Leaves display, if well observed,  
How she so long her Maidenhead preserved,  
How for sound Prudence she still bore the Bell,  
Whence may be drawn this high-fetched parallel:  
Venus and Venice are, Great Queens in their degree;  
Venus is Queen of Love, Venice of Policy.    

A Fit of MORTIFICATION.  

1.  
WEak crazy Mortal, why dost fear  
To leave this Earthly Hemisphere?  
Where all delights away do pass  
Like thy Effigies in a Glass,  
Each thing beneath the Moon is frail and fickle;  
Death sweeps away what Time cuts with his sickle.   

2.  
This Life at best is but an Inn,  
And we the Passengers, wherein  
The Cloth is laid to some, before  
They peep out of Dame Nature's door,  
And warm Lodgings find, Others there are  
Must trudge to find a room, and shift for fare.   

3.  
This Life's at longest but one day:  
He who in Youth posts hence away  
Leaves us i' th' Morn; He who who hath run  
His race till Manhood, parts at Noon;  
And who at seventy odd forsakes this light,  
He may be said to take his leave at Night.   

4.  
One paest makes up the Prince and Peasan,  
Though one eat Roots, the other Feasan:  
They nothing differ in the Stuff,  
But both extinguish like a Snuff.  
Why then, fond Man, should thy soul take dismay  
To sally out of these gross walls of Clay?    

A Lover's Protestation.  
FIrst shall the Heavens bright Lamp forget to shine,  
The Stars shall from the Azur'd Sky decline:  
First shall the Orient with the West shake hand,  
The Centre of the World shall cease to stand:  
First Wolves shall ligue with Lambs, the Dolphins fly,  
The Lawyer and Physician Fees deny:  
The Thames with Tagus shall exchange her bed,  
My Mistress locks with mine shall first turn red:  
First Heaven shall lie below, and Hell above,  
Ere I inconstant to my Delia prove.   

Upon Himself, having been buried alive for many years in the Prison of the Fleet, By the State or Long Parliament For his Loyalty.  
HEre lies entombed a Walking Thing,  
Whom Fortune, with the State did fling  
Between these Walls. Why? Ask not that;  
They both being blind, know not for what▪   

A Gradual Hymn of a double cadence, tending to the Honour of the Holy Name of God.  

1.  
LEt the vast Universe,  
And therein every thing  
The mighty Acts rehearse  
Of their immortal King,  
His Name extol,  
What to Nadir,  
From Zenith stir,  
'Twixt Pole and Pole.   

2.  
Ye Elements that move,  
And alter every hour,  
Yet herein constant prove,  
And symbolise all four:  
His praise to tell,  
Mix all in one,  
For Air and Tone,  
To sound this Peal.   

3.  
Earth, which the Centre art,  
And only standest still,  
Yet move, and bear thy part,  
Resound with Echoes shrill.  
Thy Mines of Gold,  
With Precious Stones,  
And Unions,  
His fame uphold.   

4.  
Let all thy fragrant Flowers  
Grow sweeter by this Air;  
Thy tallest Trees and Bowers  
Bud forth and blossom fair:  
Beasts wild and tame,  
Whom Lodgings yield,  
House, Dens or Field,  
Collaud his Name.   

5.  
Ye Seas with Earth that make  
One Globe flow high, and swell,  
Exalt your Maker's Name,  
In Deep his Wonders tell:  
Leviathan,  
And what doth swim  
Near Bank of Brim,  
His Glory scan.   

6.  
Ye Airy Regions all,  
Join in a sweet consent,  
Blow such a Madrigal  
May reach the Firmament:  
Winds, Hail, Ice, Snow,  
And perly Drops  
That hang on Crops,  
His Wonders show.   

7.  
Pure Element of Fire,  
With holy sparks inflame  
This Sublunary Choir,  
That all one Consort frame.  
Their spirits raise  
To Trumpet forth  
Their Maker's worth,  
And sound his praise.   

8.  
Ye glorious Lamps that roll  
In your Celestial Spheres,  
All under his control,  
Who you on Poles upbears;  
Him magnify,  
Ye Planets bright,  
And fixed Lights  
That deck the Sky.   

9  
O Heaven Crystalline,  
Which by the Watery hue  
Dost temper and refine  
The rest in Azur'd Blue:  
His Glory sound,  
Thou first Mobeel,  
Which mak'st all wheel  
In circle round.   

10.  
Ye Glorious Souls who reign  
In sempiternal Joy,  
Free from that flesh and pain,  
Which here did you annoy,  
And him behold,  
In whom all Bliss  
Concentred is;  
His laud unfold.   

11.  
Blessed Maid which dost surmount  
All Saints and Seraphims,  
And reign'st as Paramount,  
And chief of Cherubims;  
Chaunt out his praise,  
Who in thy Womb  
Nine months took room,  
Though crowned with rays.   

12.  
Oh let my Soul and Heart,  
My Mind and Memory  
Bear in this Hymn a part,  
And join with Earth and Sky.  
Let every Wight,  
The whole world o'er,  
Laud and adore  
The Lord of Light.    

Upon a Beautiful Valentine.  

A Sonnet.  
COuld I charm the Queen of Loves  
To lend a Quill of her white Doves,  
O● one of Cupid's pointed wings,  
Lipped in the fair Castalian springs:  
Then would I write the All-divine  
Perfections of my Valentine.   

As mongst all flowers the Rose excels,  
As Amber▪ mongst the fragrant'st smells,  
As mongst all Minerals the Gold,  
As Marble mongst the finest Mould,  
As Diamonds mongst Jewels bright,  
As Cynthia mongst the lesser lights;  
So 'mong the Northern Beauties shine,  
So far excels my Valentine.   

In Rome and Naples I did view  
Faces of Celestial hue;  
Venetian Dames I have seen many,  
(I only saw them, touched not any)  
Of Spanish Beauties, Dutch and French  
I have beheld the Quintessence;  
Yet saw I none that could outshine,  
Or Parallel my Valentine.   

Th' Italians they are coy and acquaint,  
But they grossly daub and paint;  
The Spanish kind are apt to please,  
But sav'ring of the same disease;  
Of Dutch and French some few are comely,  
The French are light, the Dutch are homely:  
Let Tagus, Po, the Loire and Rhine  
Then veil unto my Valentine.   

Here may be seen pure white and red,  
Not by feigned Art, but Nature wed;  
No simpering smiles, no mimic face,  
Affected jesture, or forced face:  
A fair-smooth front, free from least wrinkle,  
Her eyes (Oy me) like Stars do twinkle.  
Thus all perfections do combine  
To beautify my Valentine.    

Upon Black Eyes, and Becoming Frowns.  

A Sonnet.  
BLack Eyes, in your dark Orbs doth lie  
My ill or happy Destiny:  
If with clear looks you me behold,  
You give me Mines and Mounts of Gold;  
If you dart forth disdainful rays,  
To your own die you turn my days.  
Black Eyes, in your dark Orbs by changes dwell  
My Bane or Bliss, my Paradis or Hell.  
That Lamp which all the Stars doth blind,  
Yields to your lustre in some kind,  
Though you do wear to make you bright  
No other dress but that of Night.  
He glitters only in the Day,  
You in the Dark your beams display.  
Black Eyes, in your two Orbs by changes dwell  
My Bane or Bliss, my Paradis or Hell.   

The cunning Thief that lurks for prize,  
At some Dark Corner watching lies:  
So that heart-robbing God doth stand  
In your Black Lobbies shaft in hand,  
To rifle me of what I hold▪  
Moore precious far than Indian Gold.  
Black Eyes, in your dark Orbs by changes dwell  
My Bane or Bliss, my Paradis or Hell.   

O powerful Negromantic Eyes,  
Who in your Circles strictly pries,  
Will find that Cupid with his Dart  
In you doth practise the Black Art;  
And by those Spells I am possessed,  
Tries his conclusions in my Breast.  
Black Eyes, in your dark Orbs by changes dwell  
My Bane or Bliss, my Paradis or Hell.  
Look on me, though in frowning wise;  
Some kind of frowns become Black Eyes  
As pointed Diamonds being set,  
Cast greater lustre out of Jet:  
Those pieces we esteem most rare  
Which in night-shadows postured are:  
Darkness in Churches Congregats the sight  
Devotion strays in glaring light.  
Black Eyes, in your dark Orbs by changes dwell  
My Bane or Bliss, my Paradis or Hell.    

Upon Clorinda's Mask.  
SO have I seen the Sun in his full pride  
O'ercast with sullen Clouds, and lose his light:  
So have I seen the brightest Stars denied  
To show their lustre in some gloomy Night:  
So Angels pictures have I seen veiled o'er,  
That more devoutly men should them adore:  
So with a Mask I saw Clorinda hide  
Her face more bright than was the Lemnian Bride.   

Upon Dr. Davies British-Grammar.  
'TWas a rough Task, believe it, thus to tame  
A wild and Wealthy Language, and to frame  
Grammatic toils to curb her, so that she  
Now speaks by Rules, and sings by Prosodie:  
Such is the strength of Art rough things to shape,  
And of rude Commons rich Enclosures make.  
Doubtless much Oil and Labour went to couch  
Into Methodic Rules the rugged Dutch:  
The Rabbis pass my reach, but judge I can  
Something of Clenard and Quintilian;  
And for those Modern Dames I find they three  
Are only lops cut from the Latian Tree;  
And easy 'twas to square them into parts,  
The Tree itself so blossoming with Arts.  
I have been shown for Irish and Bascuence,  
Imperfect Rules couched in an Accidence:  
But I find none of these can take the start  
Of Davies, or that prove more Men of Art,  
Who in exacter Method and clear way,  
The Idioms of a Language do display.  
This is the Tongue the Birds sung in of old,  
And Druids their dark Knowledge did unsold:  
Merlin in this his Prophecies did vent,  
Which through the world of fame bear such extent.  
This spoke that Son of Mars, that Britain bold  
Who first amongst Christian-Worthies is enrolled:  
This Brennus, who, to his desire and glut,  
This Mistress of the world did prostitut.  
This Arviragus and King Catarac  
Sole free, when all the world was on Rome's rack.  
This Lucius who on Angel's wings did soar  
To Rome, and would wear Diadem no more.  
With thousand Hero's more, which should I tell,  
This New-year scarce would serve me: So fare well▪   

Upon Christmas-Day.  

1.  
HAil Holy Tide,  
Wherein a Bride,  
A Virgin (which is more)  
Brought forth a Son,  
The like was done  
Near in the World before.   

2.  
Hail, Spotless Maid:  
Who thee upbraid  
To have been born in Sin,  
Do little weigh  
What in thee lay,  
Before thou didst Lie-in.   

3.  
Three months thy Womb  
Was made the Dome  
Of Him, whom Earth nor Air,  
Nor the vast mould  
Of Heaven can hold,  
'Cause he's Vbiquitair.   

4.  
O would he deign  
To rest and reign  
th'th' centre of my heart,  
And make it still  
His Domicil,  
And Residence in part.   

5.  
But in so foul a Cell  
Can he abide to dwell?  
Yes, when he please to move  
His Harbinger to sweep the Room,  
And with rich Odours it perfume  
Of Faith, of Hope, of Love.    

Upon my Honoured Friend and F. Mr. Ben. Johnson.  
ANd is thy Glass run out? is that Oil spent  
Which light to such strong sinewy labours  
Well Ben, I now perceive that all the Nine, lent?  
Though they their utmost forces should combine,  
Cannot prevail against Nights three Daughters, but  
One still must spin, one twist, the other cut:  
Yet in despite of Distaff, Clue, and Knife,  
Thou in thy strenuous Lines hast got a Life;  
Which like thy Bays shall flourish every Age  
While Sock or Buskin shall ascend the Stage.  
— Sic vaticinatur J. H.   

For the admitting Mistress Anne King to be the tenth Muse.  
LAdies of Helicon, do not repine  
I add one more unto your Number Nine  
To make it even: I among you bring  
No meaner than the Daughter of a King;  
Fair Basil-Ana: quickly pass your voice,  
I know Apollo will approve the choice,  
And gladly her install, for I could name  
Some of less merit Goddesses became.   

A Hymn to the Blessed Trinity.  

To the first Person.  
TO thee, Dread Sovereign, and dread Lord,  
Which out of Nought didst me afford  
Essence and Life, who mad'st me Man,  
And oh, much more a Christian:  
Lo, from the centre of my heart,  
All Laud and Glory I impart.  
Hallelujah.   

To the Second.  
TO Thee blessed Saviour who didst free  
My Soul from Satan's Tyranny,  
And mad'st her capable to be  
An Angel of thy Hierarchy:  
From the same Centre do I raise  
All Honour and immortal Praise.  
Hallelujah.   

To the Third.  
TO Thee sweet Spirit I return  
That Love wherewith my heart doth burn,  
And these blessed Notions of my Brain  
I now breathe up to thee again:  
O let them redescend, and still  
My Soul with holy Raptures fill.   
Hallelujah.   

A short Ejaculation.  

O God, who can those Passions tell  
Wherewith my heart to Thee doth swell?  
I cannot better them declare  
Then by the Wish made by that rare  
Aurelian Bishop, who of old  
Thy Oracles in Hippo told.   

If I were Thou, and Thou wert I,  
I would resign the Deity:  
Thou shouldst be God, I would be Man;  
Is't possible that love more can?  
Oh pardon, that my Soul hath ta'en  
So high a flight, and grows profane.    

A Hymn of Mortification.  

1.  
LOrd I cry,  
Lord I fly  
To thy Throne of Grace:  
This World is irksome unto me:  
In my mind  
stings I find  
Of that dismal place,  
Where pains still growing young ner● die.  
O thou whose clemency  
Reacheth from Earth to Sky,  
Set my sins from me as wide  
As is East  
From the West,  
Or the Court of Bliss  
From the Infern Abyss,  
So far let us asunder ever bide.   

2.  
Angel's blessed,  
With the rest  
Of that Heavenly Choir,  
Which Halleluja's always sing:  
Fain would I  
Mount on high,  
And those seats aspire,  
Where every Season is a constant Spring.  
O Thou who thought'st no scorn  
To be in Bethlem born,  
Though grand Monarch of the Sky  
Through a Flood  
Of thy Blood  
Let me safely dive,  
And at that Port arrive,  
Where I may ever rest from shipwreck free.   

3.  
FAith and Hope,  
Take your scope,  
And my Pilots be  
To waft me to this blissful Bay:  
Gently guide  
Through the tide  
Of man's misery,  
My Bark that it lose not the way.  
When landed I shall be  
At that Port, pardon me  
If I bid you both farewell,  
Only Love  
Reigns above  
'Mong Celestial Souls,  
Where Passion not controls,  
Nor any thing but Charity doth dwell.   

4.  
LOrd of light,  
In thy sight  
Are those Mounts of Bliss  
Which Humane Brains transcends so far,  
Ear nor Ey  
Can descry,  
Nor heart fully wish,  
Or Tongues of Men and Saints declare  
Those Sense-surmounting Joys  
That free from all annoys  
For those few up-treasured lie,  
Which ere Sun  
Shone at Noon,  
Have their Names enroled  
In Characters of Gold,  
Through the white Volume of Eternity.    

A Holy RAPTURE.  

COuld I screw up my Brain so high  
With soaring Raptures that might fly  
Unto the Empyrean Sky,  
How would I laud the Lord of light,  
Who fills all things, and every Wight  
With Plenty, Vigour and Delight?   

My Voice with Hallelujahs loud  
Should pierce, and dissipate the Clouds,  
Which in the Airy Region crowd.   

Then through the Element of Fire  
Unto the Stars they should aspire,  
And so to the Seraphic Quire.   

Thus Earth and Sky with every thing  
Should join with me, and Carols sing  
Unto the Everlasting King.    

An EJACULATION To my CREATOR.  

AS the parched Field doth thirst for Rain  
When the Dog-star makes Sheep and Swain  
Of an unusual Drowth complain,  
So thirsts my Heart for Thee.   

As the chased Deer doth pant and bray  
After some brook, or cooling Bay  
When Hounds have worried her astray,  
So pants my Heart for Thee.   

As the forsaken Dove doth moan  
When her beloved Mate is gone,  
And never rests, while self alone,  
So moans my Heart for Thee.   

Or as the Teeming Earth doth mourn  
In Black (like Lover at an Urn)  
Till Titan's quickening Beams return,  
So do I mourn, moan, pant and thirst  
For Thee who art my Last and First.    

Upon a Fit of DISCONSOLATION, or Despondency of Spirit.  

EArly and late, both night and day,  
By Moonshine and the Sun's bright Ray,  
When spangling Stars embossed the Sky,  
And decked the World's vast Canopy,  
I sought the Lord of Light and Life,  
But Oh my Lord kept out of sight.   

As at all Times, so every Place  
I made my Church to seek his Face:  
In Forests, Chases, Parks and Wood▪  
On Mountains, Meadows, Fields and 〈◊〉  
I sought the Lord of Life and Light▪  
But still my Lord kept out of sight.   

On Neptun's back, when I could see  
But few pitched planks 'twixt Death and me,  
In Freedom and in Bondage long,  
With Groans and Cries, with Prayer and Song,  
I sought the Lord of Life and Light,  
But still my Lord kept out of sight.   

In Chamber, Closet, (swollen with Tears)  
● sent up Vows for my Arrears;  
In Chapel, Church and Sacrament,  
(The Souls Ambrosian Nourishment)  
I sought the Lord of Life and Light,  
But still my Lord kept out of sight.   

What? is mild Heaven turned to Brass,  
That neither sigh nor sob can pass?  
Is all Commerce 'Twixt Earth and Sky  
Cut off from Adam's Progeny?  
That thus the Lord of Life and Light  
Should so, so long keep out of sight?   

Such Passions did my mind assail,  
Such terrors did my spirits quail,  
When lo, a beam of Grace shot out  
Through the dark clouds of sin and doubt,  
Which did such quickening sparkles dart,  
That pierced the centre of my heart.   

O how my spirits came again,  
How every cranny of my brain  
Was filled with heat and wonderment,  
With●joy and ravishing content,  
When thus the Lord of Life and Light  
Did re-appeer unto my sight?   

Learn Sinners hence, 'tis ne'er too late.  
To knock and cry at Heaven's gate;  
That beggar's blessed who doth not faint,  
But reinforceth still his plaint:  
The longer that the Lord doth hide his Face,  
More bright will be his after-beams of Grace.    

Upon the most Noble Work of the Lo. Mar. of Winchester, By rendering the French Gallery of Ladies into English.  

1.  
THe World of Ladies must be honoured much,  
That so sublime a Personage, that such  
A Noble Peer, and Pen should thus display  
Their Virtues, and expose them to the day.   

2.  
His praises are like those coruscant Beams  
Which Phoebus on high Rocks of Crystal streams:  
The Matter and the Agent grace each other:  
So Danae did when Jove made her a Mother.   

3.  
Queens, Countesses and Ladies go, unlock  
Your Cabinets, draw forth your richest stock  
Of Jewels, and his Coronet adorn  
With Rubies, Perl, and Saphires yet unworn.   

4.  
Rise early, gather flowers now in the spring,  
Twist wreaths of Laurel, and fresh Garlands bring  
To crown the Temples of this highborn Peer,  
And make him your Apollo▪ all the year.  
And when his soul shall leave this Earthly Mine,  
Then offer sacrifice unto his shrine.    

Upon the untimely Death of the Lord Fra. Villars, Killed near Kingston upon Thames.  
HEre lies a Noble Posthumus inhumed,  
Whose youthful breath that Sanguine Field perfumed  
Where while his heart with Martial flames did swell,  
Among a Cru of Cannibals he fell.  
Such a hard Destiny did post from hence  
His gallant Sire, yet with this difference:  
One Assassin felled him, but this brave Spray  
Base Rebels in whole throngs did rend away.   

Upon the Holy Sacrament.  

1.  
HAil holy Sacrament,  
The world's great Wonderment,  
Mysterious Banquet, much more rare  
Than Manna, or the Angels fare;  
Each crumb, though sinners on thee feed,  
Doth Cleopatra's Perl exceed.  
Oh how my Soul doth hunger, thirst and pine  
After these Cates so precious, so divine!   

2.  
She need not bring her Stool  
As some unbidden Fool;  
The Master of this Heavenly Feast  
Invites and woos her for his Guest:  
Though Deaf and Lame, Forlorn and Blind,  
Yet welcome here she's sure to find,  
So that she bring a Vestment for the day,  
And her old tattered Rags throw quite away.   

3.  
This is Bethsaida's Pool  
That can both cleanse and cool  
Poor leprous and diseased souls,  
An Angel here keeps and controls,  
Descending gently from the Heavens above  
To stir the waters; May He also move  
My mind, and rocky heart so strike and rend,  
That tears may thence gush out with them to blend.    

A Divine EJACULATION.  

AS to the Pole the Lily bends  
In a Sea-compass, and still tends  
By a Magnetic Mystery  
Unto the Artic point in Sky,  
Whereby the doubtful Piloteer  
His course in gloomy Nights doth steer;   

So the small Needle of my Heart  
Moves to her Maker, who doth dart  
Atoms of Love, and so attracts  
All my affections, which like sparks  
Fly up, and guide my Soul by this  
To the true centre of her Bliss.    

Of the Scene, and ingenious Composure of a Florentine Tragicomedy.  
FLorence 'mong Cities bears the name of Fair  
For Streets and stately Structures, Site & Air:  
A City, as a late Historian says,  
Fit only to be seen on holidays.  
She breeds great Wits for high attempts and trust,  
Though often bend on black Revenge and Lust,  
We know the purest Streams have woose and slime,  
So Vices mix with Virtue in this Clime;  
And there are store of Stories in that kind,  
Which as I write, come crowding to my mind:  
But this of yours will serve for all, which is  
Compiled with so much Art, that doubtful 'tis  
Whether the Toscan Actors showed more Wit  
In plotting, as You did in penning it.   

Upon the Poems of Dr. Aylet, An Ancient Master of the Chancery.  
THough the Castalian Dames (and all the rest  
Of womenkind) love youthful spirits best,  
Yet I have known them oftentimes inspire  
Autumnal brains with heats of Enthean fire:  
Nay, 'tis observed in those whom Phoebus loves,  
The more the Sense impairs, the Soul improves;  
He darts on Aged Trees so bright a stroke,  
As on the Standel of a lusty Oak.  
This work of yours, this mirror of your mind,  
Is a clear proof hereof, wherein I find  
Your Autumn, Spring, and Summer still the same,  
Your Evening, Morn and Noon have the like flame  
Of Apollinean fire, in such degree  
May melt the Readers into Poesy:  
Your Fancy with the Leaf doth neither fall  
Nor fade, but still is sappy, straight and tall.  
Here are no whimsies, and strong Lines that swell,  
And more of Garlic than the Lamp do smell;  
Such as those rambling Rhymers use to vent,  
Who raise their Muse on stilts, and not content  
To tread on earth, do mount so high a stair,  
That their conceits prove Nonsense, Froth and Air.  
Here's no such Stuff, but Substance and rare Sense,  
Sound Rules and Precepts may be culled out hence:  
Your Quadrains Symphonize with Pybracks' strains,  
As if his Soul were transient in your brains.  
Your smooth just Cadencies, and gentle Verse,  
Suit with the pious Matter you rehearse,  
As all will judge, who have their brains well knit,  
And do not love extravagance of Wit.  
If such your Readers be, you need not fly  
From any Sentence to the Chancery.   

The Description of a Morning Expergefaction, After an unusual Dream or Vision. 1656.  
SO Rest to Motion, Night to Day doth yield,  
Silence to Noise, the Stars do quit the Field,  
My Cinq Ports all fly open, the Fantasy  
Gives way to outward Objects, Ear and Eye  
Resume their Office, so doth Hand and Lip;  
I hear the Carman's Wheel, the Coachman's Whip.  
The Apprentice (with my sense) his Shop unlocks,  
The Milkmaid seeks her Pail, Porters their frocks▪  
All cries and sounds return, except one thing  
I hear no Bell for Matins Toll or Ring.  
Being thus awaked, and staring on the light  
Which silvered all my face and glaring sight,  
I closed my eyes again, to recollect  
What I had dreamt, and make my thoughts reflect  
Upon themselves, which here I do expose  
To every knowing Soul: and may all those  
(Whose Brains Apollo with his gentle Ray  
Hath moulded of a more refined Clay)  
That read this Dream, thereby such Profit reap  
As I did Pleasure; Then they have It cheap.  
Est sensibilium simia somnium, J. H.   

To Mrs. E. B. Upon a sudden SURPRISAL.  
A Pelles, Prince of Painters, did  
All others in that Art exceed▪  
But You surpass him, for He took  
Some Pains and Time to draw a Look;  
You in a trice and moment's space,  
Have Portrayed in my Heart your Face.   

Upon the Nativity of our Saviour, Christmas-Day.  

1.  
WOnder of Wonders, Earth with Sky  
Time mingleth with Eternity,  
And Matter with Immensity.   

2.  
The Sun becomes an Atom, and a Star  
Turns to a Candle to light Kings from far  
To see a spectacle so wondrous rare.   

3.  
A Virgin bears a Son, that Son doth bear  
A world of sin, acquitting man's arrear  
Since guilty Adam figtree leaves did wear.   

4.  
A Majesty both infinite and just  
Offended was, therefore the Offering must  
Be such, to expiate frail flesh and dust.   

5.  
When no such Victim could be found  
Throughout the whole Expansive round  
Of Heaven, of Air, of Sea or Ground,   

6.  
The Prince of Life Himself descends  
To make Astraea full amends,  
And Human Soul from Hell defends.   

7.  
Was ever such a Love as this,  
That the Eternal Heir of Bliss  
Should stoop to such a low Abyss?    

To my Dear Mother, The University of OXFORD, Before Mr. Cartwrights Poems of Christchurch. 1650.  
Alma Mater,  

MAny do suck thy Breasts, but now in some  
Thy Milk turns into froth, and spumy scum▪  
In Others it converts to rheum and fleam,  
Or some poor Wheyish stuff in steed of Cream.  
In Some it doth Malignant Humours breed,  
And make the Head turn round, (as that side Tweed)  
Which Humours vaporing up into the Brains,  
Break out to odd Fanatik sottish strains;  
It makes them dote and rave, fret, fume and foam,  
And strangely from the Text in Pulpits roam:  
When they should preach of Rheims, they prate of Rome;  
Their Theme is Birch, their Preachment is of Brome▪  
Nor 'mong thy Foorders only such are found,  
But who came o'er the Bridge are much more Round.  
Some of thy Sons prove Bastards, sordid, base,  
Who having sucked Thee throw Dirt in Thy face:  
When they have squeezed thy Nipples and chaste Paps,  
They dash thee on the Nose with Frumps and Raps▪  
They grumble at thy Commons, Buildings, Rents,  
And would Thee bring to Farthing Decrements.   

Few by the Milk sound Nutriment now gain,  
For want of good Concoction from the Brain.   

But this choice Son of Thine is no such Brat;  
Thy Milk in Him did so Coagulat,  
That it became Elixir, as we see,  
In these smooth streams of fluent Poesy.    

To the Rarely Ingenious Mrs. A. WEEMES, Upon Her SUPPLEMENT To Sir Philip Sydney's Arcadia.  

IF a Male Soul by Transmigration can  
Pass to a Female, and Her spirits Man,  
Then sure some Sparks of Sydney's Soul hath flown  
Into your Breast, which may in time be blown  
To Flames; for 'tis the course of Enthean Fire  
To kindle by degrees, and Brains inspire:  
As Buds to Blossoms, Blossoms turn to Fruit,  
So Wits ask Time to ripen and recruit.   

But yours gives Time the start, as All may see  
In this smooth Piece of Early Poesy:   

Which like sparks of one flame may well aspire,  
If Phoebus please, to a Sydneyan Fire.    

A sudden Rapture Upon the Horrid Murdering of his late Majesty.  
SO fell great Britain's Oak by a Wild Crew  
Of Mongrel Shrubs which underneath Him grew;  
So fell the Lion by a pack of Curs,  
So the Rose withered 'twixt a Knot of Burrs.  
So fell the Eagle by a swarm of Gnats,  
So the Whale perished 'twixt a Shoal of Sprats.   

An EPITAPH Upon CHARLES the First. 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
IF to Subdu Himself, if to obtain  
A Conquest o'er the Passions, be to Reign,  
Here lies the Greatest King, (who can say more?)  
Of All can come behind, or went before.   

Upon a Cupboard of Venice-Glasses, sent for a New-years-gift to a choice Lady.  
Madame,  

IF on this New-years-gift you cast an eye,  
You plainly may therein at once descry  
A twofold quality; for there will appear  
A brittle substance, but the Object clear.   

So in the Donor, Madam, you may see  
These Qualities inherent for to be:  
His Power which brittle little is, Helas,  
His Mind sincere, and pure as any Glass.   

The old Philosopher did wish there were  
A window in his Heart of Crystal clear,  
Through which his friends might the more clearly see  
His inward Passions, and Integrity.   

I wish the like, for than you sure would rest  
Of my clear Mind, and motions of my Breast.   

But if it questioned be to what intent  
With Venice-Glasses I do you present,  
I answer, That I could no Gift perceive  
So fit for me to give, you to receive:  
For those rare Graces that in you excel,  
And you that hold them, one may parallel  
Unto a Venice-Glass, which as 'tis clear,  
And can admit no poison to come near,  
So Virtue dwells in you, nor can endure  
That Vice should harbour in a Breast so pure.    

A Passionate ELEGY Upon His Long-endeared Friend, Daniel Caldwal Esq  

A Heart high swollen with grief in this sad Verse,  
Le's fall these brackish tears upon thy Hearse,  
Distilled from that pure Salt of long-bred Love,  
Which twice ten Summers did betwixt us move.   

O how my Soul doth melt when my Thoughts run  
Upon those days our friendship first begun  
Among the Muses on fair Isis' banks,  
Where Youth doth play so many sportful pranks;  
When Liberty ore-awed by Tutor's frown,  
And Mirth half-stoln is far more pleasing known.   

From Isis to the Thames Affections flew,  
And with new sparks of Love still hotter grew:  
Near Damon to his Pythias proved more dear  
Than Dan to Me; ne'er shined their love more clear.  
Those Twins which now in Azur'd Skies do glide,  
And Pilots through rough Neptun's Surges guide.  
Our Souls did seem to one another pass  
By Transmigration; an Elysium was  
There where we met: We did so sympathise,  
That Hearts seemed to make Sallies through the eyes.   

Thus lived we long, till all-disposing Fate  
To check this friendship Us did separate,  
Put Seas between Us, many thousand mile  
Thrice cut me from my Dan and Albion's Isle.   

Yet, ma●gre this large distance We did meet,  
And still by Internuntial Letters greet.   

The Horizon of Love is large, He spies  
His wished Object wheresoever it lies,  
From Pole to Pole, from Thule unto Gades,  
He flying soars through Air, through Seas he wade●.   

This found I true, when Tagus, Loire and Po,  
Clowd-threatning Alps, and Pyrenean Snow  
I crossed, me thought the further still I steered  
My Dan still nearer to my mind appeared;  
My thoughts by day, my fantasy by night  
Would frequently convey him to my sight:  
I missed, and found Him; missed him to the eye,  
Yet found him in my Breast still constant lie;  
And by this miss, that Axiom true did note,  
Sometimes Love's sweetest when 'tis most remote.   

O how my thoughts kept Festival that day  
Did Letters from my Dan to me convey;  
Letters which I shall keep as sacred Ties,  
As holy Relics, or rich Legacies.  
Dear Quintessential Mate, what can express  
The deep-fetched sighs my trembling heart possess!  
Silence best can: how roars the shallow Source,  
While without noise great Rivers run their course?  
Small Love doth speak, and is sometimes acute,  
While deep Affection stunned with grief stands mute.  
But is Dan dead? Oh no, now He begins  
To live, He's got among the Seraphins:  
Where He doth Nectar quaff with Glory crowned,  
While his sad Spouse still bears his Death's deep wound  
In her chaste Breast, and Heart big-swollen with Woes,  
More dolorous than all her Childbed Throes.  
Farewell, dear Soul, reign in Elyzian Bliss,  
And take this pure untainted Sacrifice,  
Which on Love's Altar doth like Incense flame  
To thy still-fragrant Memory and Fame.  
Farewell, until we meet, and make in Sky  
Among the Stars another Gemini.    

An ELEGY Upon his Tomb in Horndon-Hill Church, Erected by his Wife, Who speaks,  

TAke, Gentle Marble to thy trust,  
And keep untouched this sacred Dust▪  
Grow moist sometimes, that I may see  
Thou weep'st in sympathy with Me;  
And when by Him I here shall sleep,  
My Ashes also safely keep,   

And from rude Hands preserve Us Both, until  
We rise to Zion Mount from Horndon-Hill.    

Sent with a Prayer-Book to a Pious Lady.  
Madame,  
WHat I by way of Token send, you may  
By way of Sacrifice to Heaven convey,  
And to an Offering turn my Gift, more dear  
To God then Piles of Frankincense and Myrr.  
But when for Others you to Him direct  
Your Prayers, let your thoughts sometimes reflect   

To DELIA.  
ABout the light as the poor Fly  
Doth flutter and approach so nigh,  
Till up and down as she still skips,  
Her Lawny Wings with fire she eclipse:  
So my Affection 'bout the Eyes  
Of Heart-inflaming Delia flies;  
Till Phoenixlike they into Ashes burn,  
And new Affections still rise from their Vrn.   

A sudden SPECULATION Beyond the Seas.  
ALthough my Body many thousand mile  
Be distant from sweet Albion's Woolly I'll,  
Yet neither Land nor Sea, nor Air nor Wind,  
Nor Heaven itself, can keep from thence my Mind;  
But that each moment of the fleeting day,  
My Thoughts to England may Themselves convey.   

Of Female Hypocrisy,  In a short Dialog 'twixt Dion and Thyrsis. Dion. 
THyrsis, I stand amazed how Nature could  
Compose a Fabric of so rich a mould,  
That outwardly looks like a Seraphin,  
But a Megaera if you pry within.  Thyrsis. 
Whom mean you, Dion, that you thus descry  
By such gross taintures of Hypocrisy?  
For hence you must infer that Nature's blind,  
Or else she must be partial in her kind.  Dion. 
O Thyrsis, if that Saintlike Fiend you knew,  
That sowr-sweet, real, yet dissembling Hue  
Of Livia, sure you would be changed to wonder,  
That Nature in her works should so much blunder.  
Her Eyes are like those Heaven Twins, except  
That of Themselves they shine, not by reflect,  
Wherein through Crystal Casements one may spy  
The Queen of Love seated in Majesty.  
Her Forehead as the Marble smooth and plain,  
Her Cheeks alike, but that half died in Grain:  
Her Tresses might serve for a Net to take  
A Hermit, or an Angel captive make.  
A Smile to move a Stoik, a Voice so shrill,  
That all Arcadia would with Echoes fill:  
A sweeter Breath never perfumed the Air;  
Lest touch of Lip would a dead Corpse repair.  
These are Perfections in Exterior show;  
But if her inward Qualities you knew,  
What you adored before you would detest,  
Turn Love to Hate, (or Pity at the least.)  
Her Breast 's a Shop of Fraud, her Heart a Mill  
That restless thoughts do grind to wound or kill.  
Her Brain's a Still that at all hours doth strain  
Destructive cruel Notions of Disdain.  
Her Eyes are Windows of False Lights, and cries,  
Her Tongue a flap of Perjury and Lies;  
Her Chin is double like her Heart; Her Cheeks  
Have Pits, as 'twere to bury whom she seeks  
For to destroy.—  Thyrsis. 
Is't possible so fair a Bark should hide  
So black a Trunk, or so much Ill should bide  
In such Seraphik Beauties? Shells of Gold,  
Can they within such rotten Kernels hold?  
Can in smooth gliding streams Carybdies dwell?  
Or in one place cohabit Heaven and Hell?  
Can Livia be so beauteous to th' Eyes,  
And lodge within such foul deformities?  Dion. 
'Tis so: whence I infer how true I find,  
No trust is to be put in Womankind.   

Of some, Who blending their Brains together, plotted how to bespatter one of the Muse's choicest Sons and Servants,  
Sir Will. Davenant, Knight and Poet.  
POets like Princes may denounce a War,  
They may like Common Mortals clash and jar,  
Turn private Feuds to public, and asperse  
(Justly sometimes) each others Muse and Verse.  
But whoso blurs Davenants Heroic strains  
Do show more Gall in Breast, than Wit in Brains:  
Their Sculls are like a Syringe crammed with Dirt,  
Which as they on some Marble Pillar spirit,  
Bounds on their grinning Faces back again,  
So doth Themselves more than the Marble stain.   

Upon Mr. Cleveland.  

IS Cleveland dead? and will not the whole Choir  
Of Muses mourn, and put on black attire?  
Nay, their great God Apollo should me thinks  
Wear Sable too, and dart his Rays through Chinks.   

Is Cleveland gone? Sure in this long-North-wind  
Some Scottish Witch conveyed her Imps to find  
Him out, and in revenge made League with Death  
To murder him so soon, and stop his breath:  
Yet had his Body matched his Wit in might,  
He had in pure clear strength put both to flight.   

One thing I do admire, we have no more  
Of that large stock the Stars gave him in store;  
Which could he have bequeathed by Legacy,  
It equalled had Saint Mark's rich treasury.   

But my hopes are, that he hath left behind  
Some Posthume Pieces to enrich mankind,  
Which with th' inspiring Odours they will cast,  
May make new Poets, not like Him in haste.    

Upon Dr. Howel, Lord Bishop of Bristol, Who died a little after the putting down of Episcopacy.  
Rumpendo in Lachrymas facit Indignatio Versum.  

O Were I raptured into Verse  
To write with fury on thy Hearse,  
O could I strangle with a wish  
Steeled Clotho, and Stern Lachesis  
With their own Thread, or cut the Life  
Of Atropos with her own Knife.   

Or could I meet that Baldpate Churl,  
With his All-mowing Sith, I'd hurl,  
And tumble Him, with all the Three  
Down to the Pit in lieu of Thee:  
So Man should be Lord of his Age,  
And free from their Tyrannik rage.   

But much they need not boast, or vaunt to have  
This Saintlike Prelate sent unto his Grave:  
For He, good Soul, was Mortified before,  
And got almost in sight of heavens blessed shore▪  
He might be called during his Life's short span  
Terrestrial Angel, or Celestial Man.   

But Oh, it is not He who died alone,  
For Prelacy Herself with him is gone:  
England's whole Hierarchy (sad Tale to tell)  
At the same time did breathe Her last, and fell.  
1647.    

Before the Second Part Of DODONAS GROVE.  
FRom the pure Air of Greece, the ancient Nurse  
Of Learning, and Philosophy's chief Source,  
Dodona sends her Trees to resalute  
The Queen of Isles; they all this while stood mute,  
And muffled in a close unlucky Fog,  
That the whole Grove appeared like one great Log.  
When a fresh Breeze did Blow, and reinspire  
Their Leaves with Language like an Orphean Lyre,  
To tell the gazing world what a dire stroke,  
Or fatal clap of Thunder crushed the Oak;  
How all the Shrubs grew Wood, and strangely mad,  
As if some Hemlock them intoxed had:  
And how the Thistle that Blue round-toped Weed  
Did by his prickles all these mischiefs breed.  
If in this Bleaker Air Dodona finds  
To nip her Buds any Malignant Winds,  
She quickly can transplant without despair,  
To shoot Her blossoms in some gentler Air.   

The Conclusion of the Second Part Of DODONAS GROVE.  
THus far have we pursued the doubtful Fate  
Of the Druinian Oak, and tottering State,  
When the first Northern Blasts upon him blue,  
Which such a world of mischiefs with them drew.  
Dodona next shall trembling tell  
What a sad period Him befell;  
How, to Mankind's eternal wonder,  
His Trunk from top was cleft asunder.  
Whence Kings may learn, that by this Blow,  
They are made All Plebeians now.   

To my most Endeared R. Altham, Esq  
RAre Youth, I stand astonished at thy wit,  
So acquaint, so pregnant, and so full of spirit;  
As if the Thespian Dames for a new Mate,  
Another young Apollo would create.  
Those few Castalian drops which once I drank  
At Aganippe's honey-suckled bank,  
Are now exhansted much by long disuse;  
By cares and cumbers, Travels far, my Muse  
Is dulled, but yours more ripe, and perfect grows,  
Now yours doth Knot, now your Invention flows.  
O how those Golden days did sweetly shine,  
When Contubernal Love did us combine!  
When with encircling Arms I fast would keep,  
And with old Stories lull us both asleep.  
But that time's past, and passeth still, that Time  
Would scarce permit Me to make up my Rhyme.   

Upon A New-fashioned Table-Book, Sent HIm for a Token from Amsterdam.  
SUppose this Book the Table be  
Of a clear Heart engaged to Thee,  
Wherein could I so pithy prove,  
As write the story of our Love;  
Within each Leaf I would enfold  
The brightest Characters of Gold.  
But how can such large Matter be  
Couched in so straight a room by Me?  
Unless I had His Art who put  
Great Homer's Iliads in a Nut.   

Upon EASTER-DAY.  
HAil, Holy Morn, the Morn that made appear  
Two Suns at once above this Hemisphere:  
One, the Great Eye of the low world, so bright,  
That it gives every thing both Heat and Light;  
Th' Other transcending Him in Light so far  
As He excels any inferior Star:  
The Sun of Righteousness; He who displays  
Upon the inward man his Heavenly Rays.  
O that those Rays would on my Soul reflect  
By the blessed influence of his Aspect,  
To penetrate the centre of my Heart,  
And thence exhale all the Terrestrial Part.   

A PARALLEL 'twixt ANGELS and MEN.  

THat which the smallest Fly we see  
Is, if to Man it equalled be,  
Such a proportion Man may bear  
With those of the Seraphik Sphere.   

Men are at best but Earth's Free-Denizens,  
Angels are heavens Immortal Citizens.  
Man hardly on the Sun can look,  
Or his coruscant lustre brook:  
But Angels can behold the sight  
Of Him who made that Sun and Light.  
Then what is purblind Man, if one should dare  
Unto a glorious Angel him compare?   

Earth with the Sky bears no proportion,  
'Tis but a Point of no Dimension;  
It doth not match, much less exceed  
The smallest Grain of Mustardseed:  
Then what proportion can (I'd fain be told)  
A Human creature with a Heavenly hold?   

Yet let not Man dejected be  
At such a mighty odds, for He  
Is born himself to be in time  
An Angel, and the Stars to climb  
By that Immortal Soul, and precious Guest  
He lodgeth in his Spirits, Brain and Breast.    

To my choice, and most endeared Friend, Mr. R. A. In answer to a Poem of His.  

AS when Aurora with her cheerful Crest  
Mounts our Horizon, than both Bird & Beast  
Renew their vigour; so your quickening strains  
My drooping spirits raised, and roused my Brains:  
Wherein the flames of love such beams did dart,  
That pierced the very centre of my heart.   

For as my Eyes your charming Numbers viewed,  
My Lips, me thought, with Nectar were bedewed;  
As if Thalia from Apollo's Mount  
An Ode had sent dipped in the Thespian-Fount:  
Each Line did limb you out, each Word did show  
This Verse, this Style from Althams' brain did flow.   

Rare flower of Wit, Minerva's Minion,  
The Muse's Gem, Honour's adopted Son,  
What Answer shall I make for to express  
That Quintessential Love I Thee profess?   

If Letters can by Airy spirits send  
A distant Heart, behold my Breast I rend,  
And send you mine: Obuse long ago  
This purchase you have got, full well you know;  
Enjoy it still, and as your years accrue,  
Let mutual Passions still this Love renew   

This bond of Love which Fortune, Time, ●or Fate  
Shall ever cancel till Life's utmost date:  
But as the amorous Vine her Elm doth grasp,  
Twine both our souls, and with embraces clasp.    

Upon this rare Erotique Subject, The Masterpiece of LOVE, By Mr. Loveday.  
AS Perl 'mong Gems, so 'mong the Passions Love  
Excels, and in the highest Orb doth move,  
Her Sister's Faith and Hope attend us here,  
While through frail Elements our course we steer:  
But Love soars with the Soul beyond the Sky,  
Being Imped in Her to all Eternity.  
But what was here a Passion that did burn,  
And cool by fits, shall there be fixed, and turn  
To an Angelik Nature ever free  
From all such humours of inconstancy.  
This Author doth that Passion so display,  
And in such high Ideas, that He may  
Stand to be Chairman, and so fit above  
The Common Masters in the School of Love.   

To his worthy Friend, Mr. Wallan, Upon the View of his ASTRAEA.  
MAy great Apollo, and his charming Choir  
Of Girls ne'er more my Brain inspire:  
May I ne'er fetch more Naps on Parnasse Mount,  
Or drink one drop of the Castalian Fount,  
If with Astraea I am not so grown  
In love, that I could wish she were mine own.   

A Pregnant Vows For a safe and seasonable Delivery To The Excellent Lady, the Lady KATHERINE, Marchioness of Dorchester.  

To Lucina.  
HAil, gentle Goddess, Midwife's Queen  
Which pregnant Wombs from pain dost free,  
May thy best care and skill be seen  
In hastening this Delivery,  
To handsel (as their Hopes are fair)  
The Princely Parents with an Heir.   

May Sol at his Nativity  
With Venus in Conjunction be;  
May that Auspicious Sign then reign  
Which hath Dominion o'er the Brain  
(The Souls chief Palace) to inspire  
His Intellect with Enthean fire.   

May Cynthia then at full appear,  
Not pale or red, but white and clear,  
May Thames be at her highest pride,  
Elated with a smooth Springtide:  
May the whole Region here below  
With sweet Favonian breezes blow.   

And since the Month's like to be May  
When Ceres looks so fresh and gay,  
When every bush doth blossoms bring,  
And every Bird doth Carols sing:  
May all these Auguries conspire  
To make the Infant like the Sire;  
And what more happiness than This,  
Can Mother hope, or Mortal wish?    

Upon his Majesty's Return, With the Dukes of York and Gloucester.  

THe Stars of late Eccentrik went  
Out of the British Firmament,  
But now they are fixed there again,  
And all concentred in Charles wain;  
Where, since just Heaven did them restore,  
They shine more glorious than before.   

Long may they glitter in that Sky  
With Beams of new Refulgency;  
May great Apollo from his Sphere  
Increase their light, and motions cheer,  
So that old Albion may from thence  
Grow younger by their Influence.   

May no illboding Blazing Star,  
No Northern Mist, or Civil War  
No lowering Planet ever reign  
Their lustre to obscure again,  
But may whole Heaven be fair and clear,  
And every Star a Cavaliter.    

Before OHPOAO●●A Or, The l'arly of Beasts. 1658.  

TRees spoke before, now the same strength of Art  
Makes Beasts to cun the Alphabet by heart,  
And cut their Breathes to sound Articulate  
Discursive congruous Accents to prolate:  
For Speech is breath, Breath Air let in and out,  
But 'tis the Mind that brings the work about.  
Such a rare Charter the world's Architect  
Vouchsafed to give the Human Intellect  
To create Words: for 'tis Mankind alone  
Can Language frame, and syllabize the tone.   

But here Beasts speak● they moan, chide, cry, complain,  
And at the Bar of Justice men arraign:  
Such are our erying sins, that Beasts resent  
Our wickedness, and wretched case lament.  
Which shows the world is Hectical, and near  
Its great, and fatal Climacterik year:  
The whole Cr●●ion mourns, and doth deplore  
The ruthful state of Human Kind; Therefore  
If Men cannot be warned when Men do teach,  
Then let them hearken here what Beasts do preach.   

In Formas mutatà novas Mens dicere gestit  
Corpora; & in primas iterum transversa Figuras,  
Dii faveant caeptis.    

An Eucharistical Rapture, With A Gradual Hymn to the Heavenly Hierarchy.  

Nature's great God, the Cause of Causes be  
Adored and praised to all Eternity:  
That supreme Good, that Quintessential Light,  
Which quickens all that's hidden or in sight,  
Which breathed in Man the Intellectual Soul,  
Thereby to rule all Cretures, and control.  
What Water, Earth, or Air produce—   

The Hymn.  
O Holy Souls, O Heavenly Saints,  
Who from corruption, and the taints  
Of flesh and blood, from pain and tears,  
From pining griefs, and panting fears,  
And from all passions except Love  
(Which only reigns with you above)  
Are now exempt, and made in endless Bliss  
Free Denizens, and Heirs of Paradis.   

O glorious Angels, who behold  
The Lord of Light from Thrones of Gold,  
Yet do vouchsafe to look on Man,  
To be his Guide and Guardian,  
Praying always that He may be  
Partner of your felicity.  
O Blissful Saints and Angels, may ye still  
The Court of Heaven with Hallelujahs fill.   

Seraphik Powers, Cherubs, Throne,  
Virtues, and Dominations,  
Supernal Principalities,  
Glories, and Intelligencies  
Who guide the course of Stars in Sky,  
And what in their vast Concaves lie,  
May ye for ever great Jehovah's Will,  
And his Commands throughout the world fulfil.  
A●●●●gels, who the most sublime Degree  
〈◊〉 hold in the celestial Hierarchy,  
And 〈…〉, and face●lone ●lone  
The 〈…〉 Vision,  
A joy 〈◊〉 joys else transcends so far  
As doth the Morning S●● the meanest Star.  
Archangels, Angles, Sai●es, Souls served, may ye still  
The Empyreal Court with Hallelujahs fill.    

Upon the Exquisite Romance of the Bishop of Bellay, Made English out of the French, By Serjeant-Major John Wright,  
MY Wit lay fallow, and my teeming Brain  
Thought to repose a while from any strain  
Of Poetising, till the Air of France  
Roused up my Fancy by this new Romance;  
Which for variety, for substance, sense,  
For rich Invention, and neat Eloquence,  
And now in point of Version may compare  
With any of this kind though ne'er so rare.  
Original and Copy co-excel▪  
The Prelate and the Soldier share the Bell:  
In To●●● they differ, but for Mind and Will  
They faithful are to one another still.  
By this I find, which men do seldom see,  
The Mitre with the Helmet may agree.   

〈◊〉 Mr. 〈◊〉 Johnson, Upon his Version of Pyrander.  
IF 〈…〉 in England chan●e  
〈…〉 such welcome as it did in France,  
'twill 〈◊〉 be esteemed; nor do I see  
But it may loc● for like Civility:  
For, neither ●ose nor Verse have lost, but won  
In 〈◊〉 of strength by this Traduction.  
So have I known brisk Gascon wines brought o'er,  
And drink f●r better on our English shore.   

Upon Mr. Benlowes Divine Theophi●●  
POets have differing Fires, some spend their stock  
On the grave Buskin, or the mer●y Sock.  
Others by 〈◊〉 feet do gently steal  
Into a Lady's bosom: O●hers deal  
With Wars, ●nd sing of 〈…〉 Knights  
Of their high Trophies, 〈…〉 Fights:  
Some feed their Fancies on th' Ar●●●ian Plains,  
And prosti●● their 〈…〉  
All th●se 〈…〉  
〈…〉  
But thy Diviner Muse mounts to the Skies,  
And Heaven fills with holy Rhapsodies,  
Fit to make Hymns for the Celestial Choir,  
And Angels with their Melody inspire.   

On Doctor Charletons' learned Piece, by proving that stonehenge is a Danish-Monument, In his New Survey.  
'tIs hard to clear Old Truths, but to unmask  
An Old-grown Error, is a greater Task:  
This You have done, and undeceived Mankind  
Of an Opinion kept us long so blind.  
Wherefore in this Survey by just Extent  
You have made Stonebenge your own Monument.   

Of Mrs. Diana Bill, Born and Baptised lately in Cane-wood, hard by Highgate.  

WHere should Diana properly be born  
But in a Wood? A Wood that thinks it scorn  
To yield to Tempe, or Dodonas Grove,  
Which consecrated was to mighty Jove:  
A Wood whence great Diana's Temple may  
Be seen four thousand paces off each day  
With a huge City, 
* L●ndon.  who her Name doth owe  
Unto that Goddess, as good Stories show.   

May this newborn Diana like Cane-wood  
Grow up and Taper, Germinat and Bud;  
And in due course of years be fitly Manned  
To spread the Race of Noble Westmoreland.    

Upon Her Majesty's 31 days sailing from Lisbon to England.  
GReat Britain's Queen launching into the Deep.  
From Tagus to the Thames her Court to keep,  
Neptun and Aeolus, as they jointly strove  
To do Her Homage, fell so far in love  
With Her Seraphic countenance and grace,  
That They so long kept Her in their Embrace.  
Another Cause might be why Heaven did please  
She should so long stay steering on the Seas,  
That coming to be Queen of that great King  
To whom so many Sea's Allegiance bring,  
She might some skill in Navigation gain,  
And learn with Him how to command the Main.   

Upon the Posthume-Poems of Mr. Lovelace.  
THe Rose with other fragrant flowers smell best  
When they are plucked, and worn in Hand or Breast;  
So this fair Flower of Virtue, this rare Bud  
Of Wit, smells now as fresh as when he stood,  
And in these Posthume-Poems lets us know  
That he upon the banks of Helicon did grow,  
The beauty of his Soul did correspond  
With his fair outside, if not go beyond.  
Lovelace the Minion of the Thespian Dames,  
Apollo's Darling born with Euthean flames,  
Which is his Numbers wave, and shine so clear,  
As sparks refracted from rich Gems appear  
Such sparks that with their Atoms may inspire  
The Reader with a pure Poetic fire.   

Upon the Gran Climacterik Year— 63.  
HE who nine seven in seven nine years  
Upon his stooping shoulders bears,  
When o'er his head the glorious Sun  
About the world his course hath run  
Sixty three times, and on that score  
Hath felt eight hundred Moons and more;  
'Tis time, high time that He should ply  
The Art of Learning how to Die,  
And think all Sounds his Passing-Bell,  
To bid the Lower World Farewell.  
Alia Desunt.   
FINIS.