POCULA CASTALIA·  

The Author's MOTTO.  
Fortune's Tennis-Ball.  
ELIZA.  
Poems.  
Epigrams, etc.   
By R. B. Gen.  OVID. Vilia miretur vulgus, mibi flavus Apollo, POCULA CASTALIA plena ministret aqua. 
LONDON, Printed by W. H. for Thomas Dring, and are to be sold at his shop at the sign of the George, near Cliffords-Inne in Fleetstreet. 1650.   


Aetat: Suae 19   portrait of Robert Baron  

●u●tus Apollinea ●ictu● Barone 〈◊〉 est  
〈◊〉 Apollinea ●●●●itur arte liber.  


W. Mars 〈…〉  
John Hebart Gent:      

To the Rare, and most Hopeful Gentleman Mr. Robert Baron, upon his Pocula Castalia.  

MAy great Apollo with his Holy Choir  
Of charming Girls my brain no more inspire,  
May I ne'er fetch more naps on Phocis' Mount,  
Or drink one drop of Aganippe's Fount  
If these Castalian cups were not to me  
As Nectar, as pure Nectar from the Bee.   

Your Pregnant Muse bears ripe fruit in her Spring.  
Her green is yellow; If She thus take wing  
To reach the Laurel, and so fast improve  
The stock of Poets by such heats of love,  
You may in time, where now old Phoebus sits,  
Be Lord Chief- Baron of the Court of Wits.   
JAM: HOWELL▪   

To the growing branch of Virtue Mr. R. B. upon his Castalian Cups.  

THose who have tippled on Nep●nthe Cups may taste  
on these, and see how far they are surpassed.  
Each drop so full of wit, Apollo swears  
The Gods a better Nectar broached here.  
Then he that Cupbearer to thee will prove  
Must be a Ganymede fetched from above;  
Or if he'll pledge thee here, he surely must  
Speak like a Poet with a curious Gust;  
Or else displume some Apollinean wing,  
And a new Mercury below must bring.  
Th' Imperial Bayss which minor Poets wore,  
Was never twisted with such threads before.  
Their greenness from thy Youth may painted be,  
Their permanence from thy maturity.  
The Muses when they filled these Cups, each one  
Disgusts their old and makes these Helicon:  
And to enhance thy worth, they keep in thee  
Their own and th' Cyprian Queen's Academy:  
There they did all Commence, and though they strive  
Thou mad'st each one's degree superlative;  
This in thy morn of Youth did soar so high  
As th' early Lark of well-fledged Poetry:  
And if thy rising Sun did blaze so soon  
How will thy splendour dazzle us at Noon?  
Sure those Meridian rays will make each man  
Adore thy shadow and turn Persian.  
Each beam of thine hath such Conspicuous light,  
'twill puzzle Mathmaticks to take thy ●eight,  
To take a prospect to thy heavenly sphere  
Not Jacob's Staff but Ladder must be there;  
If pens to praise (Imped by thy wings) aspire,  
From thee, Prometheus like, they must steal fire.  
What Optic glass can take thy altitude.  
I'th' First or Second or Third magnitude?  
Three of thy glorious Stars already sent,  
To disinvelop Nights dark Firmament;  
Which could we disinsphere, each single one  
Hath light to make a Constellation:  
Each Volume's but an Index of thy mind  
And shows a better yet is left behind.  
How prepnant does thy teeming brain appear,  
That thus conceives and brings forth every Year!  
The first a miracle of Youth may well be styled,  
Where Virgin Years brought so than aged Child.  
The Cyprian Queen first wooed thee, than her Son  
Made an Apology and thus begun:  
And thy Hymnean rites to solemnize  
These Cups are broached, thus thus to tanta'ize.  
Married how canst thou be to any Dame  
When every Muse thy parts and arts do claim?  
To one and yet to all thouart wed: for there  
The Graces all concentre in thy Dear:  
They claim thy Head, and She thy heart by vow,  
Though they plead contract, she pleads contact now:  
Thus may each Poet Prophet be and Priest,  
And show the Muse's choice Polygamist.  
THO. MOOR, of the Inner Temple,    

De Lauro effigiem Nobissilimi Amici Rob. Bar. circumvallante.  

EN, tua, Surgentes allato vertice Laurus  
Vt cingant ramis tempora docta suis.  
Ecquid bonos major dixit, mea Laurus, Apollo?  
(Dixit & Aonii turba novenna chori)  
Ecquid honos major? quam summo principe vatum  
Ornari, quemfas, castus & ardet Amor.  
Bacche Pater, tua rura colet decorataracemis  
Bassasidum effuso Nectare tincta cohors;  
Frons mea, (Caesarea veluti dominator Arend)  
Gandeat, ex domini laude superba sui,  
Sitque triumphatrix, qualis Vulcania conjux,  
Quam rotut I dalii cand: da big a Dei.  
Saepe ego mirabar quid talia verba volebant,  
Exposuit gryphos Delius ipse suos;  
Laurus V●rgine● dat solus Apollo Poetae:  
Sola dat impuro myrtea serta Venus.  
Raptim, C. B. Art Baccha.    

THE AUTHOR'S MOTTO.  
Quâ obtineam est tentanda via INDELEBILE NOMEN,  
Quod nec Fata queant, nec edax abolere vetustas.  

I'll blow the Mount to Atoms, but i'll climb  
Its steep forked Top, and triumph over Time.  
How shall I pluck from's iron teeth my Name,  
That Bards unborn yet, may embalmeed with fame  
To last for aye? This PHOEBUS meant should be  
A chief effect of my nativity.  
Ne'er did JAPETUS son to wonder frame  
His manly Statue, and inspireed with flame  
Filched from JOVE'S Hearth, meaning he should ascend  
The Stage, there Scrape a Leg, and so descend.  
For if a man should be brought forth, and cry,  
And score a score of Lustres up, then Die,  
And steal into his grave with no more noise  
Than a black Ribbon makes, or branch of Bays,  
And there lie mouldering under a silent stone  
That courts no eyes to read th' Inscription;  
He were like Glow-worms that creep out i'th' dark  
At th' bottom of the Hedge, whilst no eyes mark,  
If any difference 'twixt them there be  
The Worm's skin shines more than his memory.  
Since 'tis decreed then, by Impartial Fate  
We all must be reduced soon, or late  
To our first Principle, Dust, It's my intent  
To rear myself a deathless MONUMENT:  
Not that I do desire to shroud my bones  
The labour of an Age in piled stones,  
Or that my worthless Ashes should be hid  
Under a skie-invading Pyramid.  
For we of Delphos may secure our Fames  
By inscribing in Times brazen leaves our names.  
It is enough that we in each mouth raise  
A speaking Statue to our long-lived praise.   

Rouse then Invention, and call Judgement in,  
I know my task, teach me how to begin  
And perfect this great work. But first of all  
Of what perennious material  
Shall I erect my MONUMENT, to last  
Strong as the Poles? sweet as the fragrant East?  
Clear and perspicuous as noon bright eye  
Whilst he shall hold forth light to see it by?  
Shall I court cursed BELLONA with intent  
To carve out with my sword my MONUMENT?  
No: th' Pen out lasts the Pike, and in mine ear  
MINERVA'S Pipe sounds than her Trump more cl●er.  
I'll wear no spongy Buff, nor fortify  
Myself (my little city) martially  
With walls and countermures of steel; when I  
Court Ajax shield, and the Art of Engenry  
It's chiefly to oppose and keep the stout  
And haughty foes of Virtue, Passions, out.   

MARS shall not see me locked in Brass, or wield,  
A spear again, Ith' blood-bedabled Field;  
Unless my PRINCE, Honour, and Virtues cause  
Call to assert their Rights, and equal laws.  
But should I (as young Lions new taught to prey  
Invade the Herds) flow like a violent sea  
On hostile Troops, or armed with wroth and heat  
Plough up whole Armies and walled Towns subvert;  
Or enter breaches like a winter flood  
Till the resisting Cities swum in blood;  
The fame o'th' deed with th' next Gazzet would burn  
And with the razed Forts ashes find its urn.  
Actions, though ne'er so arduous and high  
Have no more life than one man's memory,  
Unless some hallowed Pen in Castaly's  
Sweet Nectar dipped give them eternity.  
Rome's glory (for whom Fame flew greater than  
For other men) his acts had sullied been  
With Dust of Time, had not his wiser skill  
Again done o'er, and brushed them with his quill.  
Halfe's Tenure in his Book, not all in's Sword  
Lay, Ex utroque CESAR was the word.  
Letters boast longer life than Porphyry  
Or Marble, only these can never die.  
The Chapel sacred to great MARO'S name  
May sink under Time's weight, but not his fame,  
That shall new burgeon in his high-reared strain,  
And in his Verse his Bay shall sprout again.  
Though others whither, only this chaste Tree  
From storms, from blasting, and from bolts is free.  
Not NASO'S face engraven in Rings of Gold  
And worn by Princes, made his fame so old,  
But his sweet MUSE that soared so even, yet high,  
This, this 'twas taken from him the power to die.  
Trophies and Crowns i'th' Field are but half given  
I'th' Study half. Deeds glorious as Heaven  
Till Poesy send them 'bout the World to run  
On even measured feet, are but half done,  
They are not fledged till imped with th' Poet's Quill  
(The chiefest feather in Fame's wing) his skill  
Reads men and Deeds their dooms, his breath, like Fate  
Can what he please make or annihihalate.  
He gilds o'er Prince's Crowns, his numbers can  
Make Ease taste bitter, sweet Affliction.  
Was not neat OVID, a poor exiled thing,  
More honoured than Assyria's wanton King  
Melting to lust at home?—  
Conquered Troy's Son, and conquering Latium's Sire,  
Lost not so much bliss by the Midwife's ire,  
As by that golden Trumpet of his Deeds  
VIRGIL, he gained; 'twas he raised up his Head  
To Heaven with Statues: though the hot youths Flame  
Wasted the Town 'twas He preserved the name.  
Thou not immortal art great THETIS son,  
For being dipped in Styx but Helicon,  
By the blind Bard: He left not out thy heel,  
Death's dart thou, nor thy name, no more shalt feel.  
Great He (the Muse's high Priest) travelling  
To lift unto the Stars the Ithacan King,  
A Monument eternal hath brought forth  
Which shall from eating Age preserve them both.  
Of Princes this, of Poets that the Glory,  
HOMER by ULYSSES live, he by his story.  
PALLAS strong arm (there) heaves them both so high  
That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die,  
These Tombs shall live, and will admirers have,  
Although MAUSOLUS his prove its own grave,  
And needs a MUSE that memory to afford  
T'its self, that it should do unto his Lord.   

Since their names longest last whom their own terse,  
Or others pens embalm with sacred Verse,  
By this I'll strive to be no sluggard known,  
And to make every Age to come mine own.  
I'll court the Sister Choir with praises meet,  
To teach my words to run on measured feet.  
At PHOEBUS' Shrine my vows i'll make and pay,  
And on his Altar Sacrifices lay  
And pil'd-up Hecatombs: His Harths I'll feast  
With odours fragrant as the Phoenix nest.  
Sweet gums shall smoak in curls, and in his fire  
Spice crackling yield sounds pleasant as his lyre,  
In his wise ear: Thither my sweet-breathed prayer  
Shall up in clouds of Incense climb; the air  
My Hymns shall lull; Heaped perfumes pious light  
With flames full clear, and as his own rays bright  
Shall gild his Fane, till he unsealed hath  
The holy Eount; there will I drench and bathe  
My brains, till they from earth and thickness are  
Refined, and pure as are those streams; I'll there  
With crowned bowls swell me, till my fancy flies  
Near Heaven, entranced and filled with ecstasies,  
Then sing notes worthy his own Harp, and prove  
The Acts o'th' Theban and EVRYDICE'S Love  
No truthless tales, for duller things my Lays  
Shall nimblier move, and stranger structures raise.  
I'll screw the spheres up higher, and lend again  
The Harmony of their round race to men.  
I'll fix th' Almighty Poet's Pen upon  
The Zodiac a Constellation.  
If MOMUS snarls, in drumming tunes my wrath  
Shall rhyme the Dog, like Irish Rats, to death.  
In keen Iambick's I'll untruss the Elve  
Till he runs mad, or wisely hangs himself  
LYCAMBES like. I'll squirt his eyes with Ink  
Shall ●ot the wretch, his Libels Leth ' shall drink.  
Or placed above his reach, his rage I'll scorn,  
And laugh to see his shafts on's own pate turn.  
I'll make each friend a Star, and fill the skies  
Unfurnished rooms with them, and give more eyes  
To Heaven to see those Hero's I will seat  
Borne up by Statues, on a Pyramede  
Of Glory in my Poems; I shall be  
Eternised thus by them, and they by me.  
Then if no Issue of my Loins convey  
My Spirit down unto Posterity,  
That of my brain will: my loved Poetry,  
My Son my History and TOMB shall be.   
R. B.  

MARTIAL.  
Carminibus nec Fata nocent, ac saecula prosunt,  
Solaque non n●runt hac MONUMENTA mori.    

FORTUNE'S TENNIS-BALL.  
A MORAL FABLE.  
The Author R. B. Gent.  JUVEN. 
Si FORTUNA volet fies de Rhetore Consul.  
LONDON, Printed by W. H. for Tho: Dring. 1650.   

TO The Choicest of my Noble Friends, JOHN WROTH Esquire.  

I'M big with love. How shall I (gentle WROTH)  
Set it, and th' cause of it, thy merit, forth?  
I'm no rare Herald to fetch far thy name,  
Or patch together coats to clothe thy Fame,  
Yet I do more than that when call thee Good;  
For virtue's higher nobleness than blood.  
I'm no grave Antiquary, to present  
Old Medals, or some dusty Monument  
Of some great Ancestor, by Relics foes  
Envy and Time, robbed of an Ear or Nose.  
For WORTH I will not rake their sleeping Urns,  
That which but glowed in them, in thee bright burns.  
Thee, who had old Rome in her Glory seen,  
Thou thou her hundred Statues placed hadst been:  
But safe in them thy Name could not have stood,  
From Times sharp teeth, even them he makes his food.  
The Memphian wonders that so long did boast  
Their neighbourhood and kin to Heaven, are forced  
To bow their proud tops, and begin a new  
Acquaintance with low Earth, where first they grew.  
Rhodes haughty Colosse that bestrid the Flood,  
Is now but Air wherein once it stood,  
And needs the eucrlasting MUSE to tell  
The World it once had such a Miracle.  
The MUSE 'twas furnished Heaven with Deities;  
Fames Roll with Hero's, and with Stars the Skies.  
Her works will last, 'twas She that Power did give  
To some men longer than those Pyles to live.  
And if that I find grace with her to grow  
In favour, she shall do much more for you.  
Yours, More than mine own. ROBERT BARON.    

TUCHESPHAIRA: OR, FORTUNES TENNIS BALL.  

1.  
GReat CESAR'S Barn, Rome's life, and Granary,  
That so august, so great, so fertile Isle,  
Where th' kicking Monster on his back doth lie,  
Spitting forth flames through the Aetnean pile,  
Whose smothering smoke, & sparkles at random driven  
Do seem to lend new clouds and Stars to Heaven.   

2.  
THEREUTUS' ruled; A far worse man than King,  
A Zealous Votary of DIANA'S borne,  
His shrill voice made each Choir of Echoes ring,  
His only music was the Hunting Horn,  
And game to see his flapmouthed kennel follow  
The chase, and yelping keep time with his hollow.   

3,  
near to Palermo was a flowery valley,  
Levelled and trimmed by sweeting Mower's hand,  
Some Rivulets slide swift, some slowly dally  
With the even bosom of the sluced Land.  
There Nature wanton was, and the high way  
Did seem enclosed, though it open lay.   

4.  
Pastures in FLORA'S tapst'rie clad were gay,  
With golden ears to pay the Ploughman's fees  
Each field shone bright, the scaly Nations play  
In flowing crystal, fringed with wavering trees.  
As if Industry joined with Art so nice  
To represent or excel Paradise.   

5.  
But to what end if man was banished thence,  
Was this Elysian Palace of delight?  
What though the West hath gems, th' East Frankincense,  
If this feasts not our smell, nor those our sight?  
What ere is fair or good was made for use,  
And the not use of things is things abuse.   

6.  
No wight durst tread that invaine pleasant soil,  
For the adjoining Thicket and curled Grove  
Sheltered a Boar AMYNTAS hopes did spoil,  
Like him that toar from Lovesick Love her Love.  
This fate (Woods mutter) he deserved, hunting there,  
When VENUS would be's Park, if he her Deer.   

7.  
His jaws with double sword, his back was armed  
With a set Battle of Pikes sharp and brisly,  
His crooked tusks slew, not lightly harmed  
What ere he kissed with's Urchin snout so grisly.  
His foam besnowed the trampled corn, the fair  
Meads he ploughed up, his fume inflamed the air.   

8.  
The Rosy-fingered Morn did there disclose  
Her beauty ruddy as a blushing Bride,  
Gild the S, painting the Rose,  
With Indian Chrysolites her cheeks were died:  
But when this Monster roused him in the vale,  
Fear chased her blush, and frighted Day looked pale▪   

9  
The Sun durst not see him devour his Prey,  
But peeping through the leaves of Poplars green,  
They shaked; and trembling streams did run away  
Groaning, and crowding striven to pass unseen.  
Birds, Beasts, yea buzzing Flies petitioned Nature  
To stop his breath, or change his ugly feature.   

10.  
This prodigy of Nature and the Wood,  
The fields Mower, the Mower's terror, watered  
Parched droughty Pastures with a crimson flood,  
Then made them white with bones of bodies slaughtered.  
Hardy THEREUTUS longed to see this Beast,  
(Fierce as himself) come smoking to a feast.   

11.  
His Hounds by fast made eager of the Prey,  
His Javelin whetted sharp as Crocea Mors,  
Clad all in green, as he were Son of May,  
He mounts his well-breathed wind-out-running Horse.  
Now like the God that bears the silver Bow,  
Encountering with huge Python, did he show.   

12.  
Ere village Cocks (the Labourers shrill Alarms)  
Had thrice done Salutation to the morn,  
He roused Echo from NARCISSUS arms,  
Instead of CHAUNTICLEER his early Horn  
Called PHOSPHORUS into the milky way,  
And Night's faint shades flew fore his conquering Ray.   

13.  
AURORA blushed to be found in Bed.  
The Green's with Roseal dew did wash their face  
'Gainst SOL's uprise; the Hours opened  
Heavens folding gates, through which with awful pace  
Bright TITAN issued, clothed in Tissue gay,  
Attended by his spangled Page, the Day.   

14.  
The air's all noise, the hot-sent-snuffing Hounds  
Awaked the Terror with their challenging knell.  
In swelling rage the innocent Earth he wounds,  
And like threeheaded Porter (Swiss) of Hell,  
Rushed forth resolved to break his fast on them  
That durst presume so near his Den to come.   

15.  
As fell MEDUSA covetous of slaughter  
Did drive the waves before his mighty breast,  
Shaking his ears above the troubled water,  
Disgorging new seas from his monstrous chest,  
Extending yawning Jaws: so showed this Swine  
Fiendlike as he, fierce as the angry Brine.   

16.  
As cowards vaunt ere wreathed brass bids the Base,  
Bragging they'll shoestrings make of guts of foes,  
But when MARS seizeth for Deaths use the place,  
And all whom courage rescues not, and blows,  
Then Palsy fear surprise their joints, which fright  
Doth knock together, and make another fight.   

17.  
So th' mongrel curs, erst bold as to defy  
The unseen Monster, (so rash is rage) now stand  
Afraid to view him with half open eye,  
Gazing like Armies in the netherlands.  
Finding their baleful foe so grim and cursed,  
They all strain court ' sie which should cope him first.   

18.  
When Trumpets loud Tantarra to the fight,  
Blows make bruised Armours Echo to the noise:  
So th' Horn into these Dogs infused new spirit,  
Their mouths they spend, and are become all voice.  
The airy Queen (sounds child) each yell replies,  
As if another chase were in the skies▪   

19  
The merry Horn filled with courageous breath,  
Proclaimed Parley to the woods grim wonder.  
He stoutly scorned the summons of his Death,  
And mocked their challenges with his mouths thunder.  
The busy flies he snarled at, and did chase▪  
His own foul shadow on earth's wrinkled face.   

20.  
The Boar his Tusk in many a Dog did sheath,  
Their gore, his foam, like blood with milk bespread  
(Whilst them he tossed now over now beneath,  
His fangs and head) bepainted all with red  
His frothy mouth. The Hounds are at a Bay,  
The eager cry still ' i'th' same place doth stay.   

21.  
Howling with anguish here's a brace of Hounds,  
There lay two other dew-bedabbled wretches  
Kenneled in Brakes, licking their venomed wounds,  
Shaking their ears, tattered and torn with scratches,  
Their stiff tails 'gainst the grass they clap and beat,  
And lard the thirsty ground with blood and sweat.   

22.  
When th' Huntsman's voice spoke Terror to the Boar,  
Terror the Parasite Echo said, like him.  
When th' churlish Swine Death to the Dogs did roar  
Death said the flatterer, like the beast so grim.  
As Apes do postures she mocked every cry,  
Thus newters do with either side comply.   

23.  
The blunt Boar scorning to be kept in mew,  
To lie besieged by snarling Curs too proud,  
Like the Lernaean Snake he rousing show,  
And rushed through the-in-vaine opposing crowd.  
Swift as a Roe up to the Hills he flew,  
The hotspured Hunters, with full cry pursue.   

24.  
By this the Fountain of Light low did run,  
Enchanting Philomela chanted her Vesper,  
The silver erst, now golden (setting) Sun  
Trebled each shade; the Owl peeped out with Hesper.  
Green TETHYS from her sweaty bed thrust Night,  
Expecting there her far more fair delight.   

25.  
All on a sudden Darkeness doubled was,  
Flashes and noise the moving Sky distracted,  
BOREAS sung terror in a blustry base,  
Both Night and Winter in a storm contracted.  
Thunderbolts split the Cedars that aspired,  
Their blasted tops the nimble Lightning fired.   

26.  
The dabbled South, rough-footed Aquilo,  
Came rushing like two Rams whose steeled Horns  
Dart fiery sparks and Stars; the Clouds crushed so  
Breath flames: the Air distilled in rain and storms,  
Which suffered no two together stay,  
Each, as in ship wrack shift their several way.   

27.  
No friendly Star or Moon-like Pilots kind  
(Oh Fate of Darkness!) guide them on their way,  
The foremost curse them that did lag behind,  
And they the foremost; all ride on and stray.  
Their voices all are spent, and they that follow  
Can tract the first no longer by their hollow.   

28.  
They wander and take Bridges to be Styles,  
When King THEREUTUS (from his train aloof)  
In spite of Night and error, spies the while,  
A small light glimmering in a smoke dried roof.  
Thither he makes, such stragglers as these are,  
A Candle weak admire more than a Star.   

29.  
His Highness meant not to discover here,  
His true estate, and greatness of his name,  
'Cause he would not affright the Cottager,  
But learn what of himself said common fame.  
So through his Camp disguised went PHILIPS Son,  
To hear how opinions Tide on him did run.   

30.  
In this low thatched patched Graung dwelled ADELIN●…  
A Swain whose quiet life honesty completed,  
Of him the wand'ring unattended King  
A homely lodging for that Night entreated,  
The poor wight (rich in love and gentle words)  
Proffers the best his humble shed affords.   

31.  
Then set he fore his Guest (whom he not known)  
Sweet Growte, and Whig, and Flap-jacks of fine meal,  
A sheeve of household bread of nut-brown hue,  
Cheese white as Milk, nor lacked there bonny Ale,  
Nor Wildings and ripe fruits, which to the eye  
Gave pleasing taste ere they the mouth came nigh.   

32.  
The King with unexcited Appetite,  
Appeased his craving Maw with these plain Cates;  
Then did he half envy the secure Wight,  
With whom of Shepherds easeful lives he chats,  
Praising a Cottage 'bove a slippery Court,  
To which the Hind replied in such sort.   

33.  
" A Prince that in the Cedar's top doth build,  
" And scorns the Sun, and dallies with the Wind,  
" Only a Title hath his care to gild,  
" His gay robe's lined with a restless mind.  
" They that stand high have many blasts to shake them,  
" And falling from on high, the more they break them.   

34.  
" The more we grasp the Waves the less we hold:  
" So who seeks ease in greatness, ease him flies.  
" Just as the Persians did by slaves of old,  
" Fate doth by Kings, Crown them for Sacrifice.  
" Glories, like Glow-worms, a far off shine bright,  
" But looked to near have neither heat nor light.   

35.  
" The Court is Fortune's cheating Lottery,  
" Where places are like to the Beds that fill  
" An Hospital, where this man's head doth lie  
" At that man's feet, so lower and lower still.  
" When a Star glides (we say) a Child is born,  
" So this Lard mounts when that slips into scorn.   

36.  
" Soldiers, whose prize is praise, and Trophies scars,  
" When they through new red seas for many a year  
" Have swum to glory, become Astronomers,  
" And Almanacs in their dry bones they bear;  
" Or they turn Geometricians, and so  
" Practice their Art on crutches as they go.   

37.  
" Tough pale-faced study bookish men doth pine,  
" This is that Vulture which PROMETHEUS tore;  
" Merchants that dwell with Fish in the blue brine,  
" Oft lose their lives seeking t' increase their store;  
" The toiling Craftsman drinketh his own sweat,  
" And out hard iron hammereth his meat.   

38.  
" Content the Shepherd's Cottage only fills,  
" With th' early Sun he doth his Flock unfold,  
" And all day long on easy climbing Hills  
" Or flowery Plains he merry chat can hold,  
" Or indite Sonnets in an amorous vein,  
" And with the setting Sun he folds again.   

39  
" Then jogging home he turns a Crab, or else  
" He tunes a round, or sings some cheerly rhyme,  
" Or on the tongs he counterfeits the Bells,  
" Nor lacks he gleefull tales to cheat slow time.  
" There sits he, and whilst round the bowl doth troth,  
" Sings care away, till he to bed hath got.   

40.  
" There sleeps he sound, forgetting morrow's cares,  
" Ne storms, ne frays, ne crack of credit lost,  
" Ne blasts he fears, nor uttering of his wares,  
" Nor franklier spends than's Flock defrays the cost.  
" Swains sleep and make more quiet nights and days  
" Than their great carebit Lords, whose herds they graze   

41.  
" Low set and richly warm, our Proverb wot,  
" Dangers o'er fly us, mifchiefes hit the high,  
" Contents the Crown, this is the Shepherd's lot;  
" A King is but a Man, and so am I  
" Not to compare, I would not change my place,  
" With great THEREUTUS, Heaven shield his Grace.   

42.  
Now leaden sleep began weigh their eyelids down,  
The Lamp with darkness strove, being almost spent.  
When th' weary King (half out of love with's Crown)  
Unto a cleanly, though scarce soft, Bed went,  
Sleep is not tied to softness, more sound  
Hinds rest than they that in down smothered lie.   

43.  
When slumber had shut in, and MORPHEUS barred  
The windows of his soul, and locked out care,  
I'th' silent time of night a voice he heard  
As from above, calling to Him Fear, Fear.  
Lost in amazement did he then uprise  
Frighted, as Soldiers taken in surprise.   

44.  
As did DAMETAS when PAMELA fled,  
He struts about the room with hair upright:  
And cries, who calleth, but is answered  
Only by ECHO, and the Bird of Night.  
Then taketh he's Bed again, and this fright numbers  
Amongst the mockries of unquiet slumbers.   

45.  
The next voice touched his Organ was Yield, Yield.  
Then waked in's mind a thought of treachery.  
Amidst these sweaty doubtings he beheld  
The Genius of the grange before his eye,  
Crowned with such Chaplets as adorn a Wake:  
Bowing his Cornucopia, thus he spoke.   

Mighty Sovereign,  
I am come  
" From the blessed Lalarium,  
" The seat of the Household Gods,  
" Where th' Lar have their quiet abodes,  
" To tell thee 'tis the Thunderers will,  
" Thou call'st to mind his Oracle,  
" Which when thou asked'st who should be  
" Thy Successor, thus answered thee.   

The Oracle.  
" When a Lamp shall be thy Star,  
" And thou both King and Cottager,  
" And when thou to Bed shalt go  
" Twice in one night, then shalt thou know.   

The Resolution.  

" This is the Time, the Lamp whose light  
" Brought thee hither, thy Star I height.  
" Whilst here thou dwellest with ADELING,  
" thouart Cottager as well as King.  
" You left, and took again, this Night  
" Your Bed, being seized and rid of fright.   

" Know then, Great, and as good, King,  
" APLOTE daughter of ADELING  
" This night has borne a smiling Boy,  
" The Grandsire's hope, the Mother's joy,  
" The Heir by his Nativity  
" To Nature's wealth, Fates Poverty.  
" But Fortune means in him to show  
" How great she can from meanness grow.  
" Architects low foundations lie,  
" When they intent the building high.  
" See! how the spangles of the Night  
" Do sparkle with unusual light,  
" Heaven puts his cloudy tresses by,  
" And smiles on him with open sky,  
" Whilst all the Planets seem to throw  
" Their Golden radiance at his brow,  
" Which by reflection Divine  
" Shall thence upon his Subjects shine.  
" Th' Imperial Thunderer, with her  
" That Crowns ad placitum confer,  
" Have sworn by the salt Stygian Floods,  
" That glide through the dark Midnight Woods,  
" That He, and his redoubted race,  
" (Whose Acts shall break Fame's wind to blaze)  
" Shall wear (thee dead) thy Diadem,  
" And add more Lustre to the Gem.  
" Seek not to cross Fate, lest (wave like)  
" You break upon the Rock you strike.  
" Strive not against the stream. Alas!  
" Who spits at Heaven, spits in's own face.    

46.  
The Genius vanished, THEREUTUS laid,  
In a mixed Passion betwixt fear and hate.  
No sleep he saw with's prickling eyes, which strayed  
On objects of his fall, his Heiers state.  
Soft sleep requires of thoughts a vacancy,  
She dwells in TITYRVS'S not TIBERIUS eye.   

47.  
By this the Choristers o'th' Wood did shake  
Their wings, and sing to the bright Sun's uprise,  
Whose new embroidery did gild and make  
Rich houses tops, and leaves of whistlings Trees.  
Modest morn blushed 'cause SOL saw'r rise from Bed,  
As LIEER had her cheeks with Claret spread.   

48.  
The King descending said." Come Envy, come,  
" Here will be subject for thy pined snakes; hurl  
" About this Brats neck every loving worm  
" In clinging folds, till I bid them uncurle  
" And break their kn●ts, and shoot at length, and hide  
" Their keen triforked stings in his maliced side.   

49.  
Then with a smoothed Front he bade good Day,  
And happy Omens to old ADELING,  
Ask," What noise was that chased sleep away,  
" Sounding like cries of women travelling?  
Quoth th' Hind," I hope in good time my desire  
" This night has crowned and made me a Grandsire.   

50.  
May thy joys grow with's years, said the great Guest,  
And asked the Swain on's hopes young pledge to look,  
In swaddling bands the Babe he brought forth dressed,  
Whom in his Royal arms the Monarch took,  
So flattering JUNO hugged poor SEMELE  
I'th' likeness of her Nurse old BEROE.   

51.  
Whilst here (with SINON-like embrace) he hold  
The tender Child, the Cottage black Cat ran  
Betwixt his legs, and mewed, whereat (he filled  
With deep sense of ●●e Prodigy) waxed wan,  
Knowing such was an Omen of the fall  
Of great SEJANUS FORTUNE'S TENNIS-BALL.   

52.  
But thinking his state 'bove chance, as his spirit  
He called home Man, and did himself regain,  
" And asked his Host if he knew who that night  
" Had been his Guest? A friend, I hope, (quoth th' Swain)  
" Whom I desire what use you here do find,  
" To measure not by 'tis own worth, but my mind.   

53.  
" How much are we a Captive to thy Love?  
" (The Prince replied,) which we with wealth and style  
" Will guerdon. Know who did thy kindness prove  
" Is the Imperial Monarch of this Isle,  
" THEREUTUS, who thy humble Shed will raise  
To greatness crowned with wreaths of Oak and Bayes.   

54.  
" Nay use thy legs, (the wight die kneel and shake,)  
" Since we thy Guest were when this Bird broke forth  
" The shell (his first Cage) 'tis our will to take  
" Him to our Court (the forge of States and worth)  
" There (if vice checks not) will we him advance  
" 'Bove Envies sting, or griping reach of chance.   

55.  
" Baptise him TUCHESPHAIRA, but this make  
" Thy Province, with maternal Love and Fear  
" To foster him, ourself will send and take  
" Him to the tutele of our Royal care,  
" Ere twice Time's measurer, the Nimble Sun,  
" Hath made the Tower of Heaven, and his race run.   

56.  
Lest Fairies should put him among their rapes,  
He marked him with his signet on the front,  
So pliable's the Virgin wax of Babes  
To take what figure you please stamp upon't.  
Here's a poor Sheep for th' shambles marked, and hate;  
Thus doth man purpose, but dispose doth Fate.   

57  
A Troop of Courtiers shining bright and gay,  
Broad-●y'd in quest of the last-night-lost King  
(By diligent scrutiny being led this way)  
Here found him, mingling breath with ABELING.  
He mounted (guarded so) with JOVE-like port,  
His course for to direct to his longing Court.   

58.  
But making to an Elm of cleanly growth,  
Whereon he (lest thereby betrayed should be  
To his Hosts knowledge his great state and worth)  
Had hung his Crown, s●ifted from the chaste Tree;  
Which (like a Charm) 'gainst Thunder fenced his hoad,  
He found one half of't withered and dead.   

59  
A Prodigy able to have seized the sense,  
And routed all powers of a mortal breast.  
But he (of Passions, well as men, a Prince)  
Soon gathered up himself, and them suppressed.  
And since game's Heleborum, he once more,  
To chase sad thoughts away, would chase the Boar.   

60.  
The jolly Horn did chafe the blunt Beasts ears,  
And with loud accents lent the Woods a voice.  
He, whose tough brawny sides were proof 'gainst spears,  
Echoed the jangling pack with as great noise.  
The game is roused, the ●iend from's Cabin springs.  
Pursuit like lightning puts on Eagles wings.   

61.  
The Swine unto a Bay was soon brought, since  
The last day's labour being stiff and soar,  
The Hounds beleaguered him, and the brave Prince  
With's Javelins point his churlish breast did gore.  
He, wounded, howls, The Huntsmen fill the skies  
With's many hollas, as the brute with cries.   

62.  
Even as a ravenous red-bearded Pack  
Of Sergeants, hale (with taunts) a poor Bankrouter,  
Some drawing on, some thrusting at his back,  
To one ' o'th' City Pounds, the kill Compter:  
The Dogs seized so, behind some, some before,  
Wounded and dragged along the gasping Boar.   

63.  
See of a Tyrant's death an Emblem fair!  
The grim Swine's head (even dreadful although killed)  
Fixed on a Pole was carried in the air.  
Thousands whose smiling mouths glad Paeans filled,  
To meet the Conqueror, came out the City,  
His Paths with boughs they filled, his ears with Ditty▪   

Song.  

1.  
CLubfisted Hero, no more thine own Trump be,  
To tell how you tamed th' Arcadian Boar:  
Her terrible paws so rudely did thump thee  
As even yet thy broad back and bones are full sore.  
THEREUTUS doth claim all our praise as his due▪  
Alas! we have none at all left us for you.   

2.  
Archer of Heaven, sure-handed APOLLO,  
Vaunt you no more of the huge Python's slaughter,  
But whistle to Cut, and still thy Cart follow,  
Founder not thy Team to tickle us with laughter.  
THEREUTUS doth claim all our praise as his due▪  
Alas! we have none neither left us for you.   

3.  
Bright Youth that wert got in a shower of Gold  
By Heaven's Cuckold-maker, never more warble  
Thy victory over Medusa of old  
That turned all that looked upon her to Marble.  
THEREUTUS' of all our Praise hath bereft us,  
For any other we have no more left us.    

64.  
Now Muse to reach the Forest put on wing,  
There taste the Rose, and suck in subtlier air,  
And visit TUCHESPHAIRA, who (fond thing)  
Thou shalt please better with a Plumb or Pear  
Than lists of's honours upon honours piled,  
I'th' morn a Poet's aptest, not a Child.   

65.  
Much of Man's sand through times wide glass does run,  
Many of his freshest years do periods know.  
A long part of his Lives short web is spun  
E'er he considers what he's borne to do.  
'Fore he begins his task, or knows what't was,  
Much time he had to do it in, doth pass.   

66.  
When PHOEBUS Race-nags almost twice had run  
Through the round Zodiac their full career,  
His toung-strings began to lose, and he begun  
To lisp argologies. In a whole year  
Though reason rears her Tribunal up in Man,  
He cannot show't so much as Parets can.   

67.  
Now, now began he to be like himself,  
With purile vigour MARS, with forinitie  
VENUS, Combined t' adorn th' dapper Elve,  
Doubtless two Stars which glided from the sky  
Have lighted in his beamy eyes, and there  
Set fixed as in their high Olympic Sphere.   

68  
Fair Cloris plucked her Lilies, and bespread  
Their silver wealth upon his brow so sleek,  
His skin with Violets she enameled,  
And planted a fresh Rose on either cheek,  
Where Nature painted them with fairer blush  
Than ere they knew upon their Thorny bush.   

54.  
Corn crowned CERES with a golden crop  
Uberiously his flourishing head hath graced,  
Whereof each sprig is ripe and bows the top.  
Courteous POMONA on his plump lips placed  
Too early blushing Cherries, where they be  
Far more inviting than upon the Tree.   

55.  
Did you not hear his Lallation, nor see  
Him trip about like MAB, you'd think he were  
(AS ABANTIADES did ANDROMEDE)  
Marmoreum opus, or some Statue rare  
Carved out of Virgin wax, or Ivory pure,  
Which had it wings would seem an Angel sure.   

71.  
Now did he find his feet and gin to move  
Upon a wheel of danger, were it not  
Restrained, each thing an ATROPOS would prove  
His web to clip ere scarce to th' Rock it got,  
Or fatal Axe this new sprung spray to fell,  
Or Sexton's hand to toll his passing Bell.   

27.  
But from the Court his good and evil sprung,  
There th' King chose out two Lords whom he much loved  
Men of sound ●ame Sicilians among,  
Whose truths oft true as Truth its self had proved.  
To these he trusted all the former story,  
Adding thereto this cruel Mandatory.   

73.  
" Hast to the Grange, there with perfumed words  
" Demand the Infant in our Royal Name,  
" Then dig his side with your remorseless swords,  
" And bear to us the entrails of the same.  
" We would not slay if we could safely save,  
" Yet than a Throne 'tis cheaper' give a grave.   

74.  
" But seal your lips up, and be sons of night  
" And silence, if you have (which I not fear)  
" A chink in you, through which this peeps to light,  
" Our reputation deeply wounded were,  
" You die like snuff and stink, our selfly under  
" The lash of Censure, and tongues brutish Thunder.   

75.  
The Lords replied," Fate Love us as we lock  
" This secret deep from Day and peering foes,  
" Firm shall our Faiths stand as the Pirean Rock.  
" Be it your care to see what you impose,  
" Our Duty's to obey. Bright Cicil's Sun  
" You are a God, and your high will be done.   

76.  
Just as the King Decreed the Babe to slay,  
The Sea burst forth, and bellowing raged along,  
And half the City Thindaris bore away.  
" So just is Heavent' avenge the guiltless wrong.  
The Brine too in the haven turned fresh and sweet,  
As once before, when DENIS lost his seat.   

77.  
The Nobles hasted to the Swain, so free  
From the loud Tumult and the roar of state,  
Of him the Infant they demanded; He  
(Making each slowing eye wet griefs floudgate)  
Delivered him fraught with a thousand blisses,  
Sealed with as many ceremonious kisses.   

78.  
Home wards they took their way, and by and by  
Their bounding steeds they checked, having reached  
A bushy Grove, pricking the looker's eye,  
As if the Thorns them tears and pity teached,  
And shaked their arms, as if they'd let them know  
They meant to scratch them if they gave the blow.   

79.  
The Lords to execute the Kings command  
Emptied the sheath of the sharp threatening skive,  
For which the silly babe reached forth his hand,  
Thrice touched and razed his tender skin the knife,  
And thrice his smiles drew forth their tears; once more  
They did begin and ended as before.   

80.  
" Betid us Life or Death, live still (at least  
" For us) they said, and so threw down the blade.  
" Herein shall we obey our Sovereign best  
" That he by our hand is not guilty made.  
" Who serves his Prince in what is judged unjust  
" By his own Law, serves not his power, but Lust.   

81.  
But 'cause the Monarch charged them to bring  
His entrails, they a young Pig slew with haste,  
Resolved to bear his inwards to the King,  
Since every Man within is like this Beast.  
And some without, whom malice and strong Wine  
Make churlish as a Hog, drunk as a Swine.   

82.  
Since by a Wolf Rome's Founders suckled were,  
Great CYRUS by a Bitch robbed of her young,  
Troy's firebrand, hot PARIS, by a Bear,  
JOVE by a Goat the swelling hills among,  
For this poor Innocent were there hopes as good  
Ifleft to the wild Nurses of the Wood   

83.  
In an old hollow Oak, whose top a Swarm  
Of Bees (the Muse's Birds) had made their hive  
They left the Child, with Gold, and 'bout his arm  
Bracelets of Gems whose shine with's eyes did strive.  
These their Loves gave, that who so him should find  
Might be, if not for Loves, for wealth's sake kind.   

84.  
The Lords then to the King did spur on haste  
(Whose every thought 'bout their success did wake,)  
Shaking with scorn the entrails of the Beast,  
Entering the Presence, thus they silence brake.  
" Live Great THEREUTUS, behold here all that  
" The Wild Beasts teeth, have left of yonder brat.   

85.  
The King with JVY arms his Lords embraced,  
(Who had made purchase of his Love for ever)  
With looks for scorn fit, into fire he cast  
The Pigs (he thought the Infants) Heart and Liver,  
Saying," Now Dreams are lies, the Delphic Rood  
" A trunk of Fables, at best common wood.   

86.  
In the wild Desert TUCHESPHAIRA laid  
Whom the Bees fed with their Ambrosial sweat,  
Whilst with them, as with Birds, he (fearless) played,  
Th' insected Animals their stings forgot.  
The Woods plumed Choristers forsook their nests  
To charm him with the wonder of their breasts.   

87.  
A full duged Hind came, and her milky teat  
Gave to the lips of this poor out-cast creature,  
As't were his mother's breast he sucked thereat.  
Reader, think not this story crosseth Nature,  
But read on, and you'll say, in this the Hind  
Was to herself, as well as to him, kind.   

88  
The fruit o'th' Hind (thus Nature wills) swells so  
In her strait womb she ne'er could bring it forth,  
If JOVE did not his Queen's task undergo,  
And (playing th' Midwife) help it to the birth.  
He tears the skies with thunder, which doth fright  
Her into Travel, and her young to light.   

89.  
The Fawn (well grown already) soon forsakes  
Th' pleasure o'th' teat for that of Liberty.  
The Dam pained with much Milk, which bulks and aches  
In her stiff Dugs, oft succles willingly  
Creatures of different Species to ease her,  
Why might not he, as well as Beasts, then please her?   

90.  
EUSTACHUS, one o'th' King's grave Counselors,  
(A Person both of Blood and Honour stocked  
In a long race of virtuous Ancestors)  
His mind, with deep Ideas tired, unlocked,  
And with delight to sweeten his State care,  
O'th' Woods side got on foot the purblind Hare.   

91.  
The Dogs were at a fault, and flocked about  
Snuffing and fawning on the Infant's Tree,  
Which made the Patriot (thinking they smelled out  
Some willy Fox there earthed), ride up to see,  
Where, on his back, the smiling Boy he found  
Sucking the Hind, and stroking of a Hound.   

92.  
'Cause with rich Gems and Gold so bright ●e shone  
The Lord of Parentage right Noble deemed him,  
And bore him thence; Lacking himself a Son,  
He fostered, and as his own esteemed him.  
Who proved (as he of Time had got the start)  
The Early Miracle of Arms and Art.   

93.  
But here the Reader is to be advised,  
That when this Youth found in the Forest was,  
EUSTACHUS (Ignorant he was baptised  
Before he found him) named him ULORUS,  
The which name he must bear, till my Muse can  
I'th' Songs close, call him TUCHESPHAIR again.   

94.  
THEREUTUS when bald time upon his wing  
Had stolen his fiftieth Year for a Jub'le  
Revoked exiles from pale wandering,  
Pardoned State Cankers and set Captives free,  
And shamed DARIUS in a solemn Feast,  
To which each man of name was called a Guest.   

95.  
Tilting the Day, masking the Night chased thence,  
Perfumes did raise sweet Mists in every room  
To keep the air in awe of the nice sense,  
Attalick garments clothed each swaggering Groom,  
Rich Tyrian Arras every Wall, hung round  
With medals in old Gaul or Carthage found.   

96.  
Scorning (there ordinary) Corinthian Plate  
Men quaffed in Stone at dearer prices sold,  
At Ivory tables, or wood of higher rate  
They eat, on quilted Beds of Silk and Gold.  
Their wanton tastes had only in request  
Newest and rarest things, though not the best.   

97.  
The feathered River Phasis could not yield  
Them Fowl enough, nor Oysters Lucrine Lake,  
They spring each Thicket, Fowl each bush and Field,  
All seas they draw, all Ponds in nets they take,  
Circe's too (Natures Larder) do they seek  
To please the witty gluttony of a week.   

98.  
Lachrymae Christi flowed down, and the blood  
Of Tuscan Grapes swelled high each jovial mind.  
Had Nature lost her Species, air her brood,  
Water her spawn, here might they seek, and find.  
APITIUS a Carthusian was to these,  
And AESOPE'S Platter a poor Scholars mess.   

99  
The Palace cracked with weight of thronging Guests  
As theatres when some fine sock is on,  
EUSTACHUS there was seen among the rest,  
And with him VLORUS, his reputed Son.  
Who now wrote man, and full of hopes most high,  
Assumed the vesture of virility.   

100  
In COMVS' heat and Pride the glorious King  
Viewing the young man with a settled eye,  
Through his loose hair the print of his seal Ring  
Spied on his front; this dashed his jollity.  
This mark, a mole, his Phisnomy assured him  
'Twas he 'gainst whom he thought death had secured him.   

101.  
His mirth's spread wings were clipped, the pale desire  
Of revenge seized him, with hot fury stocked,  
But that which swelled his flood of Passion higher,  
Was, that the Lords by whom he was so mocked,  
Full of grand Honours, wounds, and days, were dead,  
And with wet Elegies their Hearses spread.   

102.  
Ruffling his brow, biting his lip he sat  
Waking all forces of his fantasy  
To guide his wrath: being observed, this fit  
He called a spice of an old Lethargy.  
Then rallying his wiser thoughts, he spoke thus  
Unto the good (that's more than great) EUSTACHUS;   

103.  
" How happy are you in a Son (my Lord)  
" So rich in Nature's store and Arts best things;  
" Only you ought not so great wealth to hoard,  
" Gems shine not in the Quarry, but in Rings.  
" Leave him with us at Court, so shall he seem  
" Engloried by the Place, the Place by him.   

104.  
EUSTACHUS; covetous of so good hap  
Gave to the King his VLORUS much loved:  
Who, as if he upon some Courtly lap  
Had always slept a formal Courtling proved.  
His mouth the mint of compliment, and he  
The very Tyrant in bare courtesy.   

105.  
His phrase, and gests were followed and allowed,  
So full of Man his every Act was shown.  
And (which was chief) not borrowed it showed,  
But all he did became him as his own,  
And seemed as proper, and as natural  
As breathe with life, or light with radiant SOL.   

106.  
Which is the soul of Courtship, he became  
The Marigold of every Ladies shine,  
Teaching each beauty t'give and take a flame,  
Approaching it in its own height and Line.  
All Ladies with one Luer caught are not,  
No more than all Birds are with one bait got.   

107.  
The proud he tickled with praise of theirs,  
Dispraise of others Beauties, modes, and dresses.  
The witty with Romants he pleased and verse,  
Th' amorous with Love Legends mixed with kisses.  
And flourishing still in the Spring o'th' Fashion,  
He got a credit beyond admiration.   

108.  
But now, Heaven moved by the late excess,  
Or by THEREUTUS' Tyrannous intent,  
Hot painted fevers clad in spotted dress  
(Plagues Harbingers) 'mong the Sicilians sent,  
And (no auspicious Omen) in each field  
Shoals of hoars Ravens unwonted musters held.   

109.  
Then envious Stars shot poison from their Sphere,  
Or Earth from the dark Dungeon belched it forth,  
Or angry winds did puff it through the air.  
That th' Isle one Pesthouse made, one grave the Earth.  
O Dismal Argument! black subject! where  
All commas sighs should be! each point a Tear!   

110.  
The sweeping Plague's begun; some fall, all fear,  
As when i'th' Night fires are discovered.  
Fates (as if vexed they meant to blunt their shears)  
Warps by whole hanfulls cut, not thread by thread.  
Mortal Abaddon with keen sickle hovers,  
Flesh like Grass mowing, making few Passovers.   

111.  
Think but how fast at every puff of wind  
From Trees the mellow leaves in Autumn glide,  
I'th' steps of cattle some interment find  
Some on the wings of wanton briefs ride:  
So in this busy Term of Death folk died  
Faster than those alive could graves provide.   

112.  
No Songs, but Dirges, filled the infected air,  
No Music but the Bells sad Knells is heard.  
Pebbles which erst much people's feet did wear  
And polish, now, with grasle oregrown, Churchyard  
Rather than street seem; along which there wave  
Black Beers, that strive which first should reach the grave.   

113.  
Churchyards so delved and harrowed are, none now  
As type of Resurrection Grasse affords  
This death (a Schismatic) will not allow  
Of Ceremony, Men on slings and boards  
Uncovered are posted to the grave,  
Which, although free Land, none may single have.   

114.  
That best of Nature, Neighberhood, was gone,  
With hateless treason, friends by friends breathe died.  
They're safest who like savage live alone,  
And although debtlesse, from this Sergeant hide.  
No help is left but all help to forgo,  
To join their forces were t' augment their foe.   

115.  
For Deaths use seized are all naked streets,  
Which who so dares adventure to pass by,  
A press of thronged Funerals he meets,  
And People that their lofty Mansions fly.  
Daring to dying sheds their lives commit,  
Which each blast shakes into a Palsy fit.   

116.  
Each carcase of a Grange hath Guests, some hide  
In vacant Windmills, some in tented Boat  
On watery floors, rocked by the tumbling tide  
With their sick household at dead Anchor float.  
Yea who no tilt could hope but open skies  
Dare home forsake, so Sicil Sicil flies.   

117.  
Palermo differed from Palermo so  
As doth a Tree which erst did blow and bear,  
But naked in December stands, like to  
A Skelleton, rattling its bones all bare.  
Such solitude as this i'th' waxen Town  
Appears when th' winged honey Host is flown.   

118.  
As prudent mice from salling roofs make haste,  
And thence to sounder walls for shelter flee:  
So from sick Sicily her brood flocked fast  
To neighbouring Isles, as Caene and Strongile,  
Now with like luck as when two Suns appear  
‛ tk'clouded sky, two Sicily's there were.   

119.  
THEREUTUS' self from's royal place retired  
To's Tusculanium in the Country,  
Not built to envious show but health desired,  
And to th' adjacent Islles Aeoliae,  
(Where Aeolus his Throne of old was seen)  
He sent his only Daughter and great Queen.   

120.  
The Queen HYMETTA, whose each part a story  
Of Beauty was, ' oove wonder far renowned,  
Of her fair fex she the fair Crown and Glory,  
Who yet all these stiaines in her virtues drowned.  
But her chief Elegy (to veil all other)  
Is this, she was th●●are ROSELLAS Mother.   

121.  
SOSELLA, without whom the Court was dark,  
Fresh morn her handmaid was, and Roses strew  
About Love's Hemisphere; each heavenly spark  
Wheg she arose, ecclipzed, and sad withdrew  
For shame to be outshined by her bright eyes,  
Who, more than they the Earth, did gild the skies.   

122.  
Old JUNO, seeing a new let her plumes fall,  
The Graces wondered at themselves to see  
They'd framed a Grace that far surpassed them all,  
And had exhausted quite their Treasury  
To shame themselves by one, on whose each part  
Fame might spend all her voice, Verse all her Art.   

123.  
She was of Goddesses a rhapsody,  
Boasting AVRORA'S rosy fingers small,  
SATVRNIA'S stately front, PALLAS grey eye,  
VENUS her dimpled chin, and Beauties All.  
Of CERES Daughter the life-wasting waist,  
And Gorgon's curled hair, before it hist.   

124.  
She was the only Loadstone of all Eyes,  
She was the only Touchstone of all Hearts,  
The Whetstone of all brains and Fantasies,  
Making each Freshman Master in Loves Arts.  
She chewed with Studs of Pearl, with Rubies kissed,  
She looked with diamonds rescuing Day from Mist.   

125.  
This Saint and Angel both did harbour give  
To as much winning beauty as could die,  
And to more heavenly virtues than do live,  
Which in her blessed Urn I'll let quiet lie,  
Lest all to whom such Miracles are told,  
Or turn Idolaters, or think her old.   

126.  
A VENUS and DIANA mixed in one  
She was, whose wit was even in greenest years  
Flowing as Nectar, ripe as Autumn shown,  
And crowned with graces envied by white hairs:  
Which who can tell? and yet who cannot tell?  
Well may I praise her, but not praise her well.   

127.  
To do it meanly were no less disgrace,  
Than a course garment to a Princely Dame,  
Or homely painting to a lovely face,  
Or a brass setting to a precious Gem.  
Think not weak Muse by thy low Song to raise her  
'tis praise enough that none enough can praise her.   

128.  
Here of this wonder of nice Nature's sweat  
Taking my Leave, I am for Sicily  
Embarked, from whence PHOEBUS withdrew his heat  
And fled, as he too feared the Malady.  
Winter the Isle shut up in icy bars  
As close as sickness did the Islanders.   

129.  
With the years heat (Plagues nurse) the Plague outwore,  
The mortal Angel sheathed his Sword, the street  
Put off its mossy mantle, and once more  
Began a new acquaintance with men's feet.  
Still Piles are built and blaze, still Bells loud call,  
But for devotion more than Burial.   

130.  
All ask what friends Heavens Besom swept away,  
And who is left. All gape for fresher air,  
And like Stags snuffing 'bout the Fields they stray;  
So Fish's stifled with long ice repair  
Unto the hole, when as the Leatherine Hine  
With Axes break the frost to water kine.   

131.  
Now men with health (as Swallows with the Spring)  
Again to their dear Mother's Bosom run,  
Once more Palermo the desired King  
Blest with his Presence, showing like the Sun  
Scattering th' Egyptians long loathed Night away,  
Or out black Chaos striking Crystal Day.   

132.  
He seeing admired VLORUS become  
The tenth Sphere of the Court, drawing all after him,  
And daily triumphing o'er the Hearts of some:  
Grieved that the fatal Angel spared to slaughter him,  
He sat in Council with his thoughts, at strife  
How to remove his fear, the youngmans' life.   

133.  
His busy brain was like an Hourglass,  
Wherein Imaginations like sands ran  
Filling up hasty time, but then (Alas!)  
Were turned and turned and ended as began,  
So that he knew not what to stay upon,  
And less to Crown with execution.   

134.  
To thrust him out of life sans process, were  
To blot himself out of the Rolls of Fame,  
To send him to the wars, in hope that there  
Quick death might find him, were t' augment his Fame,  
A Hero locked in brass will force all breath  
To chant his Trophies brave, or braver Death.   

135.  
Taking the wisest counsel of his brain,  
At last Invention prompted a course to him  
For which he hug'd his wit and cruel vein,  
And this was masked in friendship to undo him.  
Malice in Love disguised was in all time  
Most safe and common held, yet is't a crime.   

136.  
So poisonous Snakes in Roses lie in wait,  
And lurk in honny-dropping Grass to sting.  
So the Hyena murders by deceit.  
So from the Rocks th' alluring Sirens sing,  
And call down the high notes of the sweet Spherse  
Before they prey, to fill the wretch's ears.   

137.  
The Senate of his thoughts decreed to send  
The Young Man to the Queen t' Aeoliae  
With secret Letters; feigning as a Friend  
The honouring of him with the Embassy,  
Which was, that as soon as he should await her  
She privily execute him for a Traitor.   

138.  
To paper he this Mandate did commit,  
And with his Seal enjoined it secrecy.  
Then charged his Favourite ULORUS with it  
Unto his Queen on hasts spread wings to fly.  
From DAVID so, to JOAB once before  
URIAH his one fatal sentence bore.   

139.  
The Favourite (proud of the employment) road  
Attended with no long yet trusty train  
To the next Port, his venturous foot there trod  
Upon the rude throat of the scalding Main.  
FAVONIUS and THETIS mixed in one  
To bless him with kind Transfretation.   

140.  
About the Noon of Night he reached the shore,  
And took up's quarters in a common Inn,  
Where (partly, 'cause for manners sake, before  
The Sun had, he would not salute the Queen.  
Partly to compose his Sea shuffled head)  
He made his clothes poor to make rich his Bed.   

141.  
One of his Train (having Athenian ears  
Itching for news) much longing to descry  
His Lords quick message, when the band of cares  
Soft sleep had seized him and his company,  
He crept into his Chamber in the dark,  
And stole his Packet thence, whilst none did mark.   

142.  
Being no Novice in that knavish trick  
Of ripping Seals, and closing them again,  
(A Burglary base than locks to pick;  
For that robs but our coffers, this our brain,)  
Not dared by's King's dumb face, he opened  
Nicely his Royal Packet, and thus read.   
T. R. ad H. R.  

THEREUTUS' to his Queen HYMETTA dear  
Sends the same health which he enjoyeth here.  
Rebecca's Twins, love, hatred, this scroll bears,  
The first is thine, the last this Messengers,  
Whom we have thus employed, that we might have  
By this unsmelt means, Safety, he a Grave.   

This ULORUS is th' Ague of our Reign,  
He shakes it, as Winds stolen into Earth's vein  
Do our dull staggering Mother. He's the ill  
Conscience o'th' State, that ne'er lets it be still.  
'Twas in our thoughts by just help of our Laws  
That this effect might Cease, to seize the cause.  
But being such a Minion of the rude  
Beast with so many heads, the Multitude;  
We judged him not here, in their sights, to die,  
Lest they mistake Justice for Tyranny  
In us, and in themselves Rebellion  
For Pity; Lest our Bark of State split on  
These Rocks, We've sent him to your Court, that there  
His Death may be close as his Treasons here.  
If of his Fate you can all eyes prevent  
we'll father it upon some accident.  
How e'er do't; if you can't stop Fame's wild breath  
we'll draw up's Posthume Process after's Death.   

Grieve not to nip this young weed in the bloom,  
A young Wolves Death to soon can never come.  
Yet were it cruel, 'tis Fate is harsh not we,  
Self preservation warrants Cruelty.   
SICILY▪ T. Rex.  

143.  
" Alas! (Quoth th' Servant) whilst my Lord aims at  
" The honour of being but a Royal Post,  
" His self is lost. So patient Chemists get  
" But Smoke, Dust, Hope, for all their real cost.  
" So th' Dog that on the water's face did catch  
" At th' shadow of his Morsel, lost the flesh.   

144.  
" Poor MERCURY, whose being so's thy Death!  
" Losing true Treasure for an empty name,  
" Thyself for Honour, Yet but breath for breath,  
" The breath of Life for the fond breath of Fame!  
" Ah! how much more than pity 'tis to fallen  
" A blooming Spray that sprouts so strait and well!   

145.  
" Brood with me HERMES, help this Plot to hatch,  
" That this Anti-IXION whose strife is  
" To grasp but a Cloud, airy Fame, may catch  
" A real JUNO, or a fairier piece,  
" What though he nor rewards nor knows my pain?  
" In virtuous Acts the very doing's gain.   

146.  
" Or 'tis a crime or none t'have opened this Letter.  
" If none, I've pleased myself, not wronged the King.  
" If 'tis a Sin, to purge it no way's better  
" Than good out of intended evil to bring.  
This said, he took a blank, and altering the  
Mind of the Monarch's Letter thus wrote he.   
The King's Letter changed.  
THEREUTUS' to his Queen HYMETTA dear,  
Sends the same health which he enjoyeth here.  
This paper Bark a freight of Love doth bear▪  
To be shared 'twixt thee and this Messenger,  
Whom we have made so, that he may inherit  
(To all our joys) the meed of his high merit.  
This ULORUS, so high famed, and so allowed  
(Of whom our Court, and Nature's self is proud;  
To whom both PALLAS arts alike are sheared,  
A sage Philosopher without a beard.  
Who, if his mind as his green years increase,  
His Age will always than himself be less.)  
We've sent t' attend you, that you may behold  
The truth that unbelieved Report hath told  
Though too too niggardly of his great worth.  
To honour virtue is to set it forth.  
We will you treat him then with every rare  
Device that Love and Honour can prepare.  
Since our People, gild each act of his  
With liking, make it better than it is,  
Since they've given up themselves unto him, so  
As they've a Law within themselves to do  
His Mandates binding, and that Law is Love  
Which Princes as their strongest fort approve.  
Since Fate denies us a Male birth to be  
The ATLAS of our Realm and Family,  
(But had we Aegiptvs' number, none could be  
Worthier such honour than this MERCURY)  
Therefore I'th' Carnavall (midst mirth and Laughter)  
We will you marry him to our only Daughter.  
Muse not we speak of Consummation, ere  
Thet's due approaches made; for young and fair  
Have made acquaintances in Nature, so  
When their eyes meet they have the less to do.  
SICILY. T. Rex.  

147.  
Now wrapped he up this Scroll so counterfeit  
In the same fashion as the King had his,  
Then ripped (with curious heed) the seal from that,  
And with a Wafer fixed it (whole) to this.  
Next to the Chamber (on fears socks) he crept,  
And left it there, whilst still his Master slept.   

148.  
Soon as the early Lark even tired with rest,  
From his moist Cabinet sprung up on high,  
Waking the morning, from whose dewy breast  
Heavens wand'ring Knight rose to his errantry,  
Th' Ambassador donned rich embroideries pride,  
And to the Court his paces did divide.   

149.  
Whilst there he waited in a Gallery.  
Hung round with TITIANS and rare Hylliards hands,  
The Queen stepped in, clad in such Majesty  
As the Great Goddess that ties Nuptial Bands  
Used, when she did contend on Ida's plain,  
From Beauty's Queen Beauties bright prize to gain.   

150.  
Low on his knee he kissed her Royal Hand,  
Then filled it with the Packet, (by happy bliss  
For him (without him) from its first self changed)  
Which read, she gave once more her hand to kiss.  
And putting on her best looks to delight him,  
She to a Royal banquet did invite him.   

151.  
Now they descended to the Palace Hall,  
Where hundred objects claimed his doubtful eye,  
Which though the least alone had filled it all,  
Was famished amidst variety.  
Now this he tastes, then that he glances on,  
Diversity confounds election.   

152.  
But gather up thy sense and fortify,  
Weakness in fractures, strength in union lies.  
Now youth the valour of thine Optics try,  
Here, here an object comes thats worth all eyes.  
But (as who stairs as SOL finds night at noon)  
She having such bright ones make all else have none.   

153.  
ROSELLA the rare Princess (in acquaint dressing  
Of Sea green Tabie, whose watering seemed apace  
Like Waves to move with her, the Lace expressing  
Silver Rocks) entered, with such winning grace  
As CYPRIA wore, when of Troy's royal Swain  
She (worthily) did Beauties prise obtain.   

154.  
Her Hair, alas! too cold a word! Her Beams  
O'r-shaddowing her Robe with loose command  
Outshined his rays that gilled the tottering streams.  
Her bared Breasts appeared Loves Scylla and  
Charybdis, betwixt whom no eye might steer  
But must (perforce) become a Prey to her.   

155.  
Her Stomacher was cloth of Gold veiled o'er  
With subtle Tiffana, to show the Land,  
Strewed with such Margarites as enrich the shore,  
And Spangles, crooked, like shells that paint the sand.  
The gummed Silk's whistling must be understood,  
WLTURNUS milder breath curling the flood.   

156.  
The Youth made haste his trembling knee to bend  
(As dazzled Pilgrims 'fore some glorious shrine)  
With devout fear he kissed her melting hand  
(As they do Relics, or some Rag divine)  
Now rights he out his knee, but still doth look  
Like to an Aguish Asp that's Planet struck.   

157.  
She also felt a civil war in her  
Distracted thoughts, all forts wild Passion seized.  
Love General, quartered in her eyes while ere  
(Making her brows bows to shoot all that gazed)  
From those Frontiers, unto her Heart retired,  
Where finding Reason possessed, the Fort he fired.   

158.  
Reason his blind foe with Cowardice than taunteth  
Saying Noblest Conquerors do wreeks avoid.  
He answers, if a Heart ROSELLA wanteth,  
I'll give her ULORUS his to be enjoyed,  
Yet that must flame first, for like Gold we prove  
Hearts must be fined and melted ere they love.   

159.  
If their Hearts, Gentle Tyrant (Reason replied)  
Smell sweetest in the flames, like Cassia,  
If they (like Martyrs, though their sect divide)  
Will accord best in their sweet misery,  
Let us love too, and blow the coal together,  
Good reason, they, young and fair, should love each other   

160.  
Both did desire, both were desired, though neither  
Knew either's wish; yet saw they whence their grief  
Sprung, even from whence they must expect their cure,  
Yet feared, who would kill would deny Relief.  
Love mixed so with them by his mystic Arts  
As he soon had for Trophies both their Hearts.   

161.  
The Heart-robed Youth resolved, by his Tongue  
His Heart's Attorney, his suit to commence,  
But was a drawing up the charge so long  
New wounds came thick, and th'formers grief chased thence.  
Yet when to make the motion he'd assay  
His words were crushed to sighs, and all was Ah!   

162.  
She echoed him, thinking each sigh did bring  
Love's summons, she, by hers▪ her yielding scent▪  
Whereat the feathered Wag did Io sing  
And in her fresh cheeks pitched his crimson Tent,  
Displaying his blush-coloured Ensigns there,  
Showing his Almighty self as Conqueror.   

163.  
The Tables furnished were as they'd invite  
A bedrid stomach that surcharged lies  
With potions to a freshmans appetite.  
But ULORUS best dish was ROSELLAS eyes▪  
As Lovers use when their maws call to eat,  
He cut his fingers in the stead of mear.   

164.  
And with much gazing on (Heavens map) her face  
He hungry rose, (in this too like a Lover.)  
His words he left half spoke, or did misplace,  
Or (Lover like still) he spoke them twice over.  
Questions were put, but when he would reply  
His answers (Lover like) were quite awry.   

165.  
The joyous Queen with smiling cheer did see  
The wounding friends shoot their hearts each at other  
Through their eyes, hoping every look would be  
A new dart, to continue them together;  
She straight commands a Masque, then doth invite  
Them to grace the short bravery of the night.   

166.  
The nimble Masquers danced as movingly  
As Joves nine Twins on the Pierian Lawns,  
Or Thebes Stones a AMPHION'S melody,  
Or brisk PAN and his Herd of light heeled Fawns.  
But how could their feets freedom please this pair  
Whose hearts lay tangled in each others hair?   

167.  
Such melody courted their ears to hark  
As th'orbs harmonious journey make, which they  
No more regarded than the child doth mark  
His lesson, when he hath got leave to play:  
For how could ORPHEUS Raptures take those eared  
Whose notes were only sighs, their closes tears.   

168.  
Now the ones eyes laid themselves open wide  
To receive all the darts the other threw,  
Then were they close with admiration tied  
To keep the wealth they had already drew,  
Or cast their Lids as curtains o'er the rare  
Image of Beauty each look painted there.   

169.  
Affection increased their looking, and  
Their looks augmented their affections,  
Their eyes (like children 'fore whom sweetmeats stand)  
Eager, but fearful of their Guardians.  
When one did sigh, as if that sigh were to  
Be waited on, the other sighed also.   

170.  
The Scene is closed up, the Soul mingling-pair  
(Whose fancies travelled undelivered  
With throes of fear desire and despair)  
More overcast with thought than sleep, were led  
To several Lodgings, there they vent their breasts  
With sighs and wishes, the rest retired to rest.   

171.  
When SOL the Captain of the Planets bright  
Came armed in burnished Tinsel to Heaven's Guard,  
To relieve the winking Sentinels of Night,  
And give them leave to rest whilst he would ward;  
The Princess, seeing sleep was banished from  
Her weary Bed, she left it empty too.   

172.  
So day broke out of Chaos hurling Night  
Unto the Centre. So the Skie-wanderer  
Unfetters from the Arms of Amphitrite.  
So Roses break forth and perfume the air.  
Only the first, the second, the last, be  
Not half so clear, so bright, so sweet, as she.   

173.  
Now stood she like the beauteous APHRODITE  
New risen from her frothy Mother's Bed,  
Her purer smock looked much like that pure white  
Foam that the Goddess limbs yet all bespread.  
Her Bed (like bodies when their souls are flown)  
Turned pale and cold for grief that she was gone.   

175.  
A mantle of green Velvet (wrought to wonder)  
Her maidens o'er her curious limbs did cast,  
It over her left shoulder went, and under  
Her right Arm; on her breast it was made fast  
With clasps of radiant Diamons, now as  
A Daisy showed she, in a field of grass.   

176.  
Now th'Queen her Mother came, and did impart  
To her the message from the King was brought.  
This somewhat lightened her heavy heart,  
To think what she so wished her Father sought.  
But then her joys did flag again, through fear  
Lest he she so loved, took no thought for her.   

177.  
By this the climbing Sun with warmth doth thaw  
And tender make the oflate crusty Earth,  
Each naked twig blood from the root doth draw  
To swell the branch, and give a lively Birth  
To the dead leaves, now filled again within  
With plump juice, and without painted with green.   

178.  
The pretty firstlings of the infant year  
Now make their mother smile▪ and their gay heads  
(Which late in icy graves did dead appear)  
Advance afresh above their easy Beds,  
Like Types o'th' Resurrection, and show  
Like weeping Virgins all bepearled with dew.   

178.  
The Groves shrill Choristers whose frozen throats  
Late wanted motion and male heat to strain  
Their little Organs, now have found their notes.  
Now PHILOMELA'S tongue is grown again,  
She screws her sprightly Seraphins voice up high,  
To teach men Art from Nature's Melody.   

179.  
Now all things else smile with the forward Spring,  
No Vine so young now fears the blasting storms  
That foul-mouthed Auster carries on his wing,  
Or the South-west wind hurries in his arms.  
No rugged Boreas blows, but Zephyr's calm  
Sweep flowery Gardens, and the air embalm.   

180.  
So smiled the days from Chaos first when sprung,  
As now, then did the loughing Ox repair  
Not to warm stalls, but open Fields; among  
The Woods herds dwelled, and chattering Birds the air  
Filled with their Song▪ than Natures frame t' uphold  
Heaven tempered this sweet mean, nor hot, nor cold.   

181.  
This serene season seemed to beseech  
The sweet ROSELLA (Earth's and Heaven's Pride)  
Net only one poor chamber to enrich  
And so impoverish every place beside,  
But to walk forth and with her smiles to bring  
An early Summer on the forward Spring.   

182.  
The Grass did court her soft tread, and then wept  
For Grief that she so soon off it was gone,  
And perfumed tears upon her small foot left.  
The Flowers that did require no other Sun  
As she approached did start from their soft Beds,  
And for a sight of Her, steal out their Heads.   

183.  
Here in an odorous Bower rich in shade  
She took a seat, whereon a Primrose grew.  
" FLORA'S first Daughter! Ah! (she sighing, said)  
" How like me in my loving state art thou!  
" Blubbered with dew thou stand'st, and in mine ears  
" To whisper seem'st, Loves sweets are washed with tears.   

184.  
" How yellow green and sick thy leaves appear!  
" Like ripening Girls that junket on Loam walls,  
" Or Feast on chalk and coals; to Earth how near  
" Thy weak stalk bends, yet neither breaks nor falls.  
" These to the nimble fancy do discover  
" The doubts and fear-shaken hopes are in a Lover.   

185.  
Whilst here she sat one the embroidered ground  
Musing on her new Love, her busy head  
With thoughts was crowded. Now reason would have found  
No cause to Love, because no hope to speed,  
Then Love crossed that; when from a Grot hard by  
Her shady couch, she heard this melody.   

Song.  

1.  
Of all dread Monarches falls, I wonder lest  
At thine CYRUS of Persia.  
The Son may fall, and's Plumes adorn thy crest,  
But thou must be the Mother's prey.  
With men to fight that Sex hath odds  
That triumphs both o'er Men and Gods.   

2.  
In Peace, their arrows s●ay, yet draw no blood,  
In war, they win when lose the Day.  
Though Captives, on their Conquerors necks they tread,  
And the fierce Victor make their prey.  
Strong Sex! who from your chain is free,  
That though he foils ye, bound must be?    

186.  
The Echo of the Grot much added to  
The voice and words, but for this cause it was  
Sweet music in ROSELLAS ear, she knew  
By th' Tone it came from her dear ULORUS,  
Whom thus (known though unseen) in his own strain  
She answered, and he replied again.   


ROSELLA. 3.  
No, no, the Yoke must ever gall our necks  
Our harsh Fates made us to obey.  
In childhood we observe our Parents becks,  
Then men do steal our hearts away.  
Wretched as weak our Sex is grown  
Whose Wills and Hearts are ne'er our own,   

VLORUS. 4.  
How wretched's he whose fortune lower lies  
Than his Love will bow unto't?  
JOVE'S royal Bird preys not on silly Flies,  
Shrubs whither at the Cedar's root.  
Fond ICARUS, rather than die tame  
With secret grief than open shame.   

ROSELLA. 5.  
How fond is he his sword away will throw  
E'er victory to his foe flies!  
The highest Sun doth deign to shine below,  
Palms suppressed doth higher rise.  
Then live, or let thy fall b fair  
By brave attempts, not base Despair.    

187.  
When her sweet Grace this word of comfort gave  
To her sad Servant, now so nigh Despair,  
She, modest, blushed, he smiled, and seemed to have  
New spirit infused to him by her kind air.  
Resolved at last his doubtful prize to try,  
And by her favour live, or frowning die.   

188.  
She his approaches met as the ccole stream  
Doth bathing Virgins, when they first uncase  
And come nigh, the coy Nymph to stop them seem,  
But entered, she their limbs kiss and embrace.  
Now nothings wanting but the Church's rites  
To fill with joy their days, with sport their nights.   

189.  
Th' Youth to the foresaid Bower would oft resort  
To kiss the leaves his Mistress sat among.  
There one day musing of his future sport  
He in an ecstasy this Rapture sung.  
Think not this Humours madness, wise men say  
All great wits have of Madness some allay.   

A Rapture.  

1.  
COme (Fairest) through the fleeting sky  
Le's cut a way with nimble pace,  
On CUPIDS' pointed wings le's fly  
To Paradise, which is my place  
Where I may banquet on thy face.   

2.  
Hark! the Springs Choristers conspire  
With airs might make an Hermit dote  
T'invite us to their levy Choir,  
And PHILOMELA'S well-strung throat  
Is tuned with an alluring note.   

3.  
The flowery Floore's embellished  
With CLORIS' painted Tapsterie,  
By Nymphs at Love's command here spread,  
Who meant that these should be for thee  
A downy Bed, and thou for me.   

4.  
No spies shall lurk here to reveal  
To ears that itch with jealousy  
The hours of Pleasure we two steal:  
Great JOVE knew no such Liberty  
When he embraced bright DANAE.   

5.  
Being set, le's sport a while (my Dear))  
I will look Babies in thine eye,  
Which shall i'th' shade make sunshine clear,  
And Love knots in thy locks I'll tie  
Wherein my Heart doth fettered lie.   

6.  
I'll turn Love's Bee, and feast a while  
On either Rose which kindly do  
Unite in thy fair cheek, whose smile  
Might make a Cynic love thee too,  
And tempt him from his Tub to woe.   

7.  
I will bedew with fervent kisses  
The fresh ADONIS on thy lip  
That balmy Theatre of blisses,  
Chorus of kisses there shall skip  
And in unnumbered Galliards trip.   

8.  
The Violets of thy veins I'll taste  
That in blue arched Meanders lay▪  
Thence to the vale of Lilies hast  
In whose smooth allies I will stray,  
And 'mong their Mazes lose my way.   

9  
Next downwards I'll my way devour,  
To Love's sweet-bramble bush I'll fly,  
And cull from every spicy flower  
Fresh bag's of honey, till that I  
Have swelled therewith my laden thigh.   

10.  
Then to thy hive my Load of Balm  
I'll bring, where (as in thought before)  
Half smothered in a sweaty Qualm,  
I will unlade my plenteous store,  
And roam about thy fields for more.    

190.  
Now began their Hymeneal's to approach,  
The time's set. TITAN, oft the Youth did say  
Oftener the Maid, Lash on thy lazy Coach:  
How thick thy cried, kind PHOSPHORUS bring the day.  
It came at last (though their desires thought late,)  
Then these Doves coupled, in this Masque-like State.   

191.  
Bright Juga JVNO'S Orgies are begun,  
Above her Altar in a Saphire Cloud  
Her airy Majesty displayed her Throne,  
Supported by two Peacocks gay and proud.  
The charming spirits of the air did beat  
Their sacred concord's 'bout her Starry seat,   

192.  
With a white Diadem her brow was crowned  
From whence a swelling veil descended, flying,  
Whose upper end a silken Fascia bouned  
Of several hues, the many dies implying  
The various mutations of the sky,  
Of causing these she having th' faculty.   

193.  
The wealthiest Gems in NEPTUNES cabinet  
Shone on her Fascia, in the top high  
With Roses blooming as her cheek, and set  
With Pestan Lilies, which her milk did die  
That from her breast dropped, when JOVE thence did pluck  
Her Privignus, laid there by stealth to suck.   

194.  
A Royal Sceptre in her right hand shone,  
Her left a Timbrel held; her golden feet  
A Lions shaggy hide trampled upon.  
Thus in her Argive Temple did she set,  
As ' 'twere insulting o'er her Lords two 'scapes,  
The Monster-Master, and the God of Grapes.   

195.  
The Region of Fire in an even  
Circle was ever whirling 'bove her seen:  
JOVE standing in the top, (figuring the Heaven)  
Brandishing flaming Bolts as if he'd been  
To charge the Giant Host. IRIS below  
Her Saphrie Throne, bend her enammeled Bow.   

196.  
Eight Ladies 'bout her Altar measured paces,  
Enstiled her Powers or her faculties,  
Veiled, lest all mortals with their dazzling graces  
Should (as th' armed Boy did) lose their eyes.  
All these some Surname bore given properly  
TO JUNO, for some nuptial mystery.   

197.  
The first was CURIS, named from th' Sabine Sphere  
That Hasta Coelibaris, that had stuck  
In the slain Gladiator: the Bride's hair  
With this she did divide, and keem and deck,  
To tell her, as in him that fast did 'bide,  
So close must she unto her male be tied.   

198.  
Or it portended valiant men to come  
Out of her loins, or else this badge of sway  
Denoted her subjection to her Groom:  
Or rather it might be in memory  
Of their first Marriages, by force contracted  
With them that came but to see Psays, yet acted.   

199.  
Next VNXIA with her woollen Fillets stood  
The Posts and Columns of th' Houset ' adorn,  
And to anoint with hollowed Oils approved  
And fat of Wolves and Bears mixed in a Horn  
E'er the Bride enters: to expel thereby  
All frights and evils from the Family.   

200.  
The third was JUGA (that soul-mingling grace)  
In silken Yoke the loving Pair that bind  
Ready to Union to sacrifice  
Two hearts melted and mixed into one mind.  
Thus as two Maids of different sex made one  
And to that state restored that first was known.   

201.  
The fourth takes care that they remain so still,  
GAMELIA, that behind the Altar throws  
The Gall: no strife is left, no stubborn will,  
But Peace and Love and Faith betwixt them grows.  
Such was the golden Chain let down from Heaven  
Of Links consisting thus well joined and even.   

202.  
The fifth and sixth were ITERDUCA, and  
Her sister DOMIDUCA, these are they  
That were the Bride's fair footsteps to attend  
When to her Spouses house she took her way.  
The seventh was CINXIA, that defends the Maid  
Quit of her Zone, whilst in that state she stayed.   

203.  
The last was TELIA, she that crowneth all,  
That brings the grateful hour, and excites  
Lovers to reap the fruit of their long thrall,  
Embracements, kisses, and those short delights  
And melting toys chaste Love allows; the same  
That gives Perfection, and a woman's name.   

204.  
The Altar dressed, first to it did approach  
The Quinque Corei attired in white.  
These were five Pages, bearing each a Torch  
Of Virgin Wax; their number, in the rites  
Employed Perfection, seeing five is  
The number whence sweet Union claims her Bliss.   

205.  
The Bridegroom, behind these, with Myrtle crowned  
Walked (like Love's Champion ready for the Lists)  
With longing looks. His hair was short and bound  
With particoloured Ribbons and Gold twists.  
Her garments hues the whitest Lilies stained,  
And ruddy'st Roses that e'er XEUXIS feigned.   

206.  
In Saffron-coloured robes next HYMEN came,  
His under vestures white, his Socks were Gold,  
His head with Roses crowned and Marjoram:  
A Torch of Pine Tree his right hand did hold,  
His left a blushing veil, to signify  
The bedded Virgins bashful modesty,   

207.  
Then came Camillus, a young youth in white,  
Bearing a Torch of white and blooming Thorn,  
To fright all malice with the ominous light,  
In sign too of Increase this Tead was born.  
Next came a Rock and Spindle, nothing good  
These show, gives check unto the highest blood▪   

208.  
'Twixt them the Lovely Bride was led; Her Head  
A Ros●e Crown had like a Turret made,  
Her loosely flowing hair with grey was shed  
To show she entered to a Matron's state.  
Wherefore a Wether's Snowy fleece was worn  
At her back, that she might not labour scorn.   

209.  
Her robe so white, was nothing else durst vie  
With it, but her pure skin. 'Bout her small waist  
In many many folds and contrary  
Circles her Virgin Zone of Wool was cast,  
Yet met in one Herculean, that binds,  
To intimate, so should all married minds.   

210.  
With fire and water th' Auspexes came next,  
To show, that as each Birth is helped to life  
By female moisture with male Heat well mixed:  
So for their likeness sake join Man and Wife.  
Last, the Musicians came, with Rosebuds crowned,  
Straining their Organs high, this air to sound.   

Song.  
Virgin's Imprison your liberal flowing hair  
In Ribbons white:  
Bright Unions Altar, and her rites prepare,  
Her cl●er Pines light  
And Io sing, then due your eyes  
'Cause you are not the Sacrifice.   

211.  
Now leave ye JVNO'S Orgies to begin  
The Gods whose nights outshines his days so far.  
Th' Idalian Star that so long wished hath been  
Now gives Alarm to the peaceful War.  
And chides you for dalaying rites behind  
That have, though less of state, yet more of kind.   

212.  
See! Myrtles trim your way. See▪ Roses there  
Flow in whole showers, and Violets seem to grow  
I'th' Chamber, as if VENUS Mead it were,  
Where you shall revel in Love's Sphere, and know  
Nor fear, nor change; exalted far above  
Even hope, and th' Wheel that spins the fates of Love.   

213.  
The Zones strong knots the Gallant has untied,  
And's ready other pretty difficulties  
T'encounter. Matron's sage have placed his Bride,  
Whilst he then out his clothes like lightning flies  
And shoots himself into her Bosom, notes  
we'll borrow of the Spheres to tune these votes.   

Epithalamium.  

TO Bed, Ye two in one united, go,  
Pass Doves in billing:  
Mix ye, and struggle till your marrow flow,  
Embrace more willing  
Than th' Loving Palms (great Unions wonder)  
That ne'er bore any fruit asunder.   

Be young to either, when Winter and grey hairs  
Your heads shall climb,  
May your affections like the merry Spheres  
Still move in Time;  
And may (with many a good Presage)  
Your Marriage prove your Merry Age.    

214.  
Next Day, when the fair Bride might boast a name  
More noble, and ' rose perfect as her Mother,  
All sorts joined hands to celebrate her fame,  
And grace the Pomp with some device or other.  
Songs lulled the Air, and the battering feet  
Of tilting Steeds dull Earth to motion beat.   

215.  
The honest Swains, whose Rustic pains and Love,  
The noblest Princes are too high to scorn,  
Joined in a Pastoral, both their mirth to move  
And show what duteous minds by them were born.  
To name no more, there WILLIE to his mate.  
The last day's Pomp thus bluntly did relate.   

A BALLAD Upon the Wedding.  

1.  
I Tell thee Jack as I sought out  
A straggling Lamb which strayed about  
The Hony-suckled Plaine,  
Mine eyes met such brave things i'th' way,  
As I ne'er saw before that day  
Nor never shall again.   

2.  
From yond gay House there came a Band  
Of simpering Courtiers hand in hand,  
Dressed wondrous brave and fine.  
But O their Leader was a Lad  
In such a gaudy habit clad,  
As he did all outshine.   

3.  
Our Lord o'th' Town bears not such Port  
When he sits talking Law i'th' Court,  
With's Tenant's round about.  
Should he be on the green at Night,  
(Jack) thou and I each Lass would slight,  
And crowd to take him out.   

4.  
But wot you why he went so gay,  
It seems it was his wedding Day,  
And now to Church he go.  
Me thought he looked oft at the Sun,  
As if he wished his race were run,  
So did the Bride also.   

5.  
The Bride! the bravest in the row  
Our Town and all our Hundred too  
Can't show the like I'll swear.  
I ne'er saw Lady at a May  
Or Shrovetide, or on Whitsonday  
That with her might compare.   

6.  
Of a pair of Indies I've been told,  
Where men find precious stones and Gold,  
I wot not where they are.  
Nor do I wind to go to see,  
But doubtless if such things there be  
I think they're both in her.   

7.  
The East, the trammels of her hair  
Gilt by Phoebus' beams appear  
Like to a golden Fleece,  
More rich and fair than that which  
Was stolen by the Colchan Witch  
And the bold Youth of Greece.   

8.  
Her sparkling Eyes are Gems so fair,  
Their lustre dims the twinkling Star  
Which bids us Shepherds fold.  
Her lips be Coral of great price,  
Her breath is Violet buds, and Spice  
Whose worth cannot be told.   

9  
The other Indies men call West,  
These she hath too, and he is blest  
That sought their secret treasure;  
But did he dig in those mines though,  
So oft as some in thought did do,  
He'd laboured out of measure.   

10.  
Her milky skin and front did show  
Like Meadows clad in Winter's Snow  
Or Cotsall Wool new dressed;  
Or like the girdle of the Sky,  
Or a smooth mount of Ivory,  
Or like to curds new pressed.   

11.  
Her cheeks (wherein both Roses join)  
Seemed Milk commixed with Claret wine,  
Such as we drank last May Day.  
No Tulip e'er such colour wore,  
They looked like Strawberries sugared o'er,  
Such as we eat last Play Day.   

12.  
When to the new swept Church they came,  
The lightning which this Princely Dame  
Shot from her eyes so bright  
Struck blind the Parson, so that he  
Poor Beauty-blasted Man, could see  
Scarcely to read aright.   

13.  
For all his Coat or Gravity,  
I think he wished as ill as I  
Or any that stood by her.  
Though all did look as who should say  
Their very souls did melt away,  
And drop before the fire.   

14.  
The rites done (which like long Grace do  
But keep them off that would fall to)  
The two, now one, went home,  
And called the waiters (Sans delay)  
To serve the dinner up, though they  
Had their Feast yet to come.   

15.  
The Cooks to give the Guests content  
Had plundered every Element,  
And rifled Sea and shore.  
Beshrew my Heart I ne'er did see  
Board's decked with such variety,  
And laden with such store.   

16.  
Now were our Heads with Rosebuds crowned  
And flowing cups ran swiftly round,  
We all did drink like Fishes;  
That joy and pleasure may betid  
The Bridegroom, ' specially the Bride,  
Each lusty Gallant wishes.   

17.  
The women's eyes dwelled on the Maid,  
Some liked this Lace, some that, and said  
'Twas A la mode du France.  
And drew the picture of the Peak:  
But then the Youth did silence break,  
And called them forth to dance.   

18.  
No dapper Elves or light-heeled Fawns  
Could nimblier Trip it o'er the Lawns,  
Or Fairies o'er the green.  
Though by the Bride all were as far  
Outstripped as frisking Fairies are  
By Mistress MAB the Queen.   

19  
No Jack a Lent danced such a way,  
No Sun upon an Easter Day  
Is such a bonny sight.  
Yet in her eyes I read that she  
Meant to outstip herself, and be  
Much nimbler far at night.   

20.  
Now Supper came and Healths went round,  
In full filled crowned Bowls we drowned  
The slow and tedious Day.  
In Singing, Kissing oft, and Dancing,  
In sighing, wishing well, and glancing,  
We drove the Time away.   

21.  
Till th' Nightingale did chant her Vesper  
And our curled Dogs were warned by Hesper  
To Congregate our Sheep.  
Till the gay Planet of the East  
Took leave of Iris, and did haste  
To's sea-green Couch to sleep.   

22.  
Now (Jack) th'unwilling willing Bride,  
With th'busy Virgin crew, aside  
Was stolen to undress.  
The Youth whose active blood began  
To strike up Loves Tantarra, come  
Within an hour and less.   

23.  
In came he, where she blushing lay,  
Like to a Muskrose into a  
Lap full of Lilies cast.  
What pity 'tis we still should stay,  
And make them riper Joys delay,  
Only a kisss to taste!   

24.  
But still as 'twere to cross their bliss,  
The Bridemaids Banquet entered is,  
The Youth devoured it half,  
To end it, not his taste to please.  
For minding those sweats coming, these  
Were dull, as Whey and Chaff.   

25.  
At last, the lights and we, went out.  
Now what remained to do, they do't.  
Some say they danced a Jig.  
If so (Jack) 'twas but such as that  
That thou and I i'th' Bower had  
With Betty and with Peg.    

216.  
But ah! how short's the tenure of man's bliss  
On this side immortality! alas!  
The gaudiest Fate with black lines dapled is.  
What mortal e'er so bright a day did pass,  
But viewing o'er the hours at Night, has seen  
Some he had wished had not so gloomy been?   

217.  
Ye happy Hermits! secured by kind fate,  
From the gilt curse of Fortune's flattery!  
Your bliss alone enjoys a fixed seat,  
Ours ebb and flow; you only wealthy be  
In voluntary Poverty, and still  
Pleased what e'er comes, since what's heavens is your will.   

218.  
Whilst we are the blind Idol Fortune's sport,  
We are her Balls (stuffed (ah) how beggarly)  
The world so hazzardfull's her Tennis-court,  
Contents the Cord, Her bandying Rackets be  
Hope and Despair, with these, she (wanting eyen)  
Toss us, ofter below than 'bove the Line.   

219.  
Soon to THEREUTUS this cross news made wing  
That ULORUS (who now he thought had made  
The Worms a feast) on Beauty banqueting  
In his fair Daughters arms entwined laid.  
So stead of being into his first dust thrown,  
Of his own flesh was a chief member grown.   

220.  
No Bear robbed of her Cubs, no hunted Boar  
Melted to foam, chafed with so buncht a brow.  
As dread Tarpean Jove when's thunder tore  
The Welkin, and his forked bolts laid full low  
Th' ambitious Piles the hundred hands had reared;  
With wrath so armed the furious King appeared.   

221.  
How can an Infant Muse reach at such woe?  
Which only he can tell that Father is  
To but one girl (whom Cypria did indew  
With her choice gifts, and Delius with his)  
When he sees him clasped in her dear armesly  
Whom he thinks his, and her worst enemy?   

222.  
What Earthquakes in a Land th' King's anger makes!  
As th' Forest trembles when the Lions roar,  
As Schoolboys when his rod their Master shakes:  
Such Palsy seized the Court, And horror more  
Than curiosity made all long to know  
Since the dread arm was up, whose should be th'blow.   

223.  
But these are safe in their best suit of Male  
Their Innocence, the Queen and hers are meant.  
So meanness oft times is the low shrubs bail,  
When Cyclops sweat the lofty Cedars rend.  
Now overhasty Prince, who would not be  
Rather a Groom than Wife or Child to thee?   

224.  
The King no sooner thought it than he sent  
To th'isle a Confident, a man whose will  
He knew was melted into his, and bend  
To feast all's humours were they good or ill.  
He in Commission strong and's trusty Band  
Soon left his own, and gained th' Aeolian strand.   

225.  
What time the pale Moon peeping through a cloud,  
The secrets of the sullen night behold,  
He and his train through the Queen's guard did crowd  
With the Black Rod in's hand, which, her, he told  
The King had sent, in token she must go  
With him, the cause and end she soon should know.   

226.  
The patient Queen with humble grace replied,  
" And wills the King I soon my end should know?  
" I thank his Grace, by making me his Bride:  
" He heaved me to the highest ●eat Earth can show,  
" And still he's good (since then this Earth hath none  
" More rich) in giving me a Heavenly Throne.   

227.  
To th' Princess Lodgings next this Messenger  
Of Death made way, where he did virtue see  
With valour sporting; she with her brave Dear,  
She the sweet burden of the Gallants knee.  
So Turtles bill, so Kids upon the Plain,  
Their snowy limbs do wantonly enchain.   

228.  
One of her hands (that compact of firm snow  
And softer Ivory) he glued to's Lip,  
Her other played with's jetty Locks. Doves so  
From twig to twig as her quick fingers trip  
From curl to curl, do hasten; but as they  
Are th' Fowlers: so must these be Fortune's prey.   

229.  
Now blasts their ears the cruel Message sent  
From th' angry King; now they (O harshest Death!)  
From either's prince embracements must be rend.  
This melts the Princess' eyes, th' affright her breath  
Stopped, and she fainting catcht fast at her Dear,  
As drowning men at any bough that's near.   

230.  
Upon his Arm she her declining head  
Did rest, whilst death in gliding sleeps disguise  
Crept softly o'er her silence; fear bespread  
Her silver Lids as curtains 'fore her eyes  
(Wherein the Sun was set) that her loss might  
Not give her fresh wounds by the bitter sight.   

231.  
Those Coral twins her Lips which late I guest  
Blood hardened into blushing stone, turned clay.  
Her Breath retired to perfume her Breast;  
Her Roses and her Lilies droopinglay;  
Her late swift Pulses slept, and did constrain  
Their wanton dances in her Saphire vein.   

232.  
Th' uncivil Pursuivant armed with the wreath  
Of his dread Master, falleth foul upon  
The noble Youth; nought threats he less than Death,  
Than which the vigorous Law more harsh had none.  
So Falstaff triumphed o'er Hotspur's stiff clay;  
But, what cannot resist is Ass' prey.   

233.  
The Gallant youth who in just ragee'r while  
Would such unmannerly souls kick from their slime,  
Now seems no sense of injury to feel  
Because the Man's high trust secured his crime  
From private chastisement; words poised should be  
Not by their own weight but the tongues degree.   

234.  
The Ladies that their due attendance paid  
To the sweet Princess in the fright all shear.  
Distracted thus, few to their Mistress laid  
Their helping hands, which they employ to tear  
Their hair now scared on end: all their tongues thus  
Secure thyself by flight Lord ULORUS.   

235.  
As the last Trump shall at that great Assiise  
(That Day of raising bones, and quickening clay)  
Rally our scattered atoms, and we'rise  
From out the mouldy Beds wherein we lay:  
So at that Loved name ROSELLA broke  
The bars of drowsy Death, and gently work.   
FINIS.   

ELIZA The Author R. B. Gent.  OVID.— Huic labrr est placidam exorare Puellam. 
LONDON, Printed by W. H. for Tho: Dringo. 1650.   

Upon the first sight of ELIZA, Masked.  

WHen her saint Metaphor, Heaven's radiant eye  
Puts his black Velvet Mask of darkness by  
And freely shines, those Statues of live Jet  
I'th' Eastern shores half pickled up in sweat  
Adore his Lustre; but they never bow  
Whilst Clouds case up and nightcap his fair Brow:  
So when mine eyes first reached her, she (alas!)  
Was Masked, and Ignorant I by did pass  
Without adoring, when such Shrines as hers  
May make Saints crowd to be Idolaters.   

When Ladylike Lodestones in boxes cased  
I've sometimes seen near Iron wedges placed  
The amorous metal waved, and still crept near,  
As if it knew its Love were shrined there.  
I felt this sympathy, and in my breast  
(Like a stray Bird now fluttering near his Nest,  
Or like the Needle) my warmed Heart did hover,  
As who would say, the North I do discover,  
The Centre, cease then then the Rocks to steer  
Thy course, but fix with presporous Omens here.   

Now with devouter eyes I looked again,  
But her black veil not drawn, thus (thought I then)  
Thus Angels Pictures in the Sacred Choir  
Are veiled to raise our adoration higher.   

Still (fair one) for the common good thus shroud  
Your beams in waving curl, or silken cloud,  
Or you'll scorch more than Phaeton with one Ray,  
Whose shine might send the Cime'rans a Day.  
Each Heart an Aetna, every man must turn  
A Salamander, and even living bourn.  
Blind as wag Cupid your refulgency  
(As it did his) will strike each daring eye.  
Myriad on each side as you walk must fall  
As spurious Eaglets 'fore your Emblem Sol.   

Thus you'd with looks Philosophy control  
And Fate, and leave the world without a Soul,  
Or prove (which I confess, since I was hit)  
This all hath but one soul, and you are it.    

On ELIZAVnmasked.  

When her bright eyes (those ruling Stars which now  
Must guide my Fortune, and mine Actions too  
Boasting a power 'bove Fate) pleased to dispel  
Those silken mists and clouds which trembling fell  
Fore them, as bowing to those Rays Divine,  
And whilst they did eclipse, adore their shrine.  
Now darted she her beams through Beauty's skies  
And kindled willing me her Sacrifice.   

So Heaven its holy fire once did fling  
On its Elijab's piled offering,  
Like it, in pure and Turtle flames I burn  
Ne'er to be quenched till th' Pyle shall ashes turn,  
Then, like a coal in dust of Juniper  
Mine Heart shall glow a Martyr still to her.   

Since then i'm turned all heat, had she not best  
Consult with coldness, so to slake my breast?  
No, Fondling no, than (as the deeper well  
Makes fuel of the Ice) my flame will swell.   

Thou then, the twang of whose Bow all commands,  
Turn thy plumed shafts to sacred fierbrands,  
And make her Breast the Vestal Hearth, that she  
May sweetly burn in equal flames with me,  
So (Love's 'bove Nature) this fire that shan't smother  
But both vie Ardour, and maintain each other.    

Sonnet. To ELIZA upon May day morning. 1649.  

1.  
See! (Fairest) Virgins gather dew;  
Wing'd Heralds blaze on every bough  
May's come; if you say so, 'tis true.  
For thus your Power's 'bove his that seasons sway,  
He brings the Month, but you must make it May.  
Arise, Arise  
Bright eyes,  
And silver over Beauty's skies:  
You set, Noon's Night, you up, each Day  
Turns jolly May.   

2.  
Now Venus hatches her young Doves,  
This fruitful Months proper for Loves,  
Though April says like her it moves  
Full of sad change; but you may chase away  
All showers with smiles, and make all our days May.  
Arise, Arise, etc.   

3.  
All, but you, Love, (though all love you.)  
The Birds their song each morn renew,  
Even Earth has donned her gaudy hue.  
Since all things else are blithe, let your kind Ray  
Do more than Sols, and make in me too May.  
Arise, Arise; etc.   

4.  
May this Month last, when bald Time shall  
Climb your fair Hill of Youth, may all  
His steps be slip'rie, and he back fall  
To Beauty's Spring, that your cheek may always  
That lustre wear that now adorneth May.  
Arise, Arise  
Bright eyes,  
And silver over Beauty's skies, etc.    

Song. A Dialogue 'twixt Passion and Reason.  P. 
Why doth her smiling eye shoot Rays  
(Able to gild a Captives Days,)  
Which kindle in my Soul Desire?  R. 
'Cause Love that dwells there is a fire.  P. 
But why is tender Pity barred  
Out of her Heart that's frozen hard,  
And cold as icy Scythia?  R. 
'Cause Love's a Nymph born o'the Sea.  
And like her wavering Dame to be  
Is faithless, as the Moon or Shee.  

Chorus.  
Love is cold, and yet a fire,  
'tis a hot cold fiction,  
A pleasant Affliction,  
A fond Desire,  
That puzzles Reason with a mere contradiction.    

To ELIZA, with my Cyprian Academy.  
Lady,  

NOw hath the Youthful Spring unbound  
The Icy fetters of the Ground.  
And ransomed Flora from beneath  
The frosty Prison of the Earth.  
Fresh clothes of State she spreads upon  
The Downs, in hope you'd walk thereon,  
And many fair flowers she doth create  
Your fair cheeks to imitate,  
Then borrows perfumes for her Birth  
From the Spicery of your Breath.   

Shall I more barren than the thick  
Element be? no, I'm more quick,  
When she but leaves, see! fruits I bring,  
Though scarce (I fear) well relishing.  
Their only excuse is, they be  
Early, in the years Infancy.  
Even tender Weeds 'mong Salads pass,  
And young things claim to prettiness.  
These clusters, if yet sour of taste,  
As being somewhat too soon Pressed,  
●nd nipped with many an envious blast)  
●hus still may hope maturity,  
●rom the kind sunshine of your eye.  
●aign but to gild them with one Ray,  
And every sprig shall turn a Bay  
Green as that coy one. And I'll dare  
●o swear they're good when yours they are;  
●n you and shrines Divinity dwells  
That hallows all your utensils.   

So I may hope too your sweet Power  
Might make even me good were I   
Your R. B.   

Upon a Black patch on ELIZA'S cheek, cut in the form of an Heart.  

what's this, that holds that happy place  
Her Cheek? and to requite such grace  
●erves for a foil unto her face?   

●uch Mole, the Queen hot Hearts obey,  
●uch Spots she bears that makes Night Day,  
●uch Thone of Love wore Helena.   

At distance, like a Cloud it shows  
I'th' Sky when Morn doth first disclose,  
Or like a Fly upon a Rose.   

Near, 'tis an Heart, which being so nigh  
The Torrid Zone of her bright eye,  
Is scorched into the Negro's die.   

I guest it some poor Heart, which late  
Died th' Martyr of her Love and Hate,  
Now Mourner turned for its sad fate.   

And for Reward of Loyalty  
Made by some pitying Destiny  
A mourning Star in Beauty's sky.   

Straight on my Breast my Hand was thrown,  
From whence I found my Heart was flown,  
And thought to claim this for mine own.   

But mine flames bright like Juniper,  
A Turtle Sacrifice to her,  
Not turned a coal by black Despair.   

Yet lively this doth Typify  
My State me thought, if January  
Should keep her Heart as june her eye.   

But since my Heart will be her Guest,  
May it not be shut out, but rest  
For ay i'th' Paradise of her Breast.    

Song. The Rose.  

1.  
FFrom Eliza's Breast  
(That sweet Nest  
Where my heart and Cupid rest)  
I took a Rose-bud, which flew thither  
For shelter from the droughty weather.   

2.  
Whilst a Place it held  
In that field  
Of Lilies with Violet Mazes rilled,  
It gathered all its sweetness there,  
And smells not of itself, but Her.   

3.  
I thought to kiss the  
Stalk, but see  
It (angry) razed its fangs at me,  
And pricked my lips in poor revenge  
For making it its sweet bed change,   

4.  
Whilst it therein laid  
In its shade  
Thousand Cupids frisked and played  
With Fairy Graces thither come  
To prove her Breast Elysium.   

5.  
Whence had it this die?  
Did the sky  
Lend it her Ruby Livery?  
No, No, it only blushed to see  
Her cheeks excel its gallantry.   

6.  
See! so to be shamed  
And be ta'en  
From her bosom, the poor wan  
Languishing flower its leaves hath spread  
For Grief, and lies (griefs Martyr) dead.   

7.  
In it yet doth lie  
Fragrancy;  
Thus must choicest Beauties die,  
But as this after death shall be  
Still odorous in their memory.    

The Temper.  

1.  
CEase me with Ardour to infest  
Fierce Leo, and Heaven's burning stone,  
Th' Idalian fire hath made my Breast  
Loves afric, Cupid's Torrid Zone,  
Or Aetna, which doth feed such great  
Flames, as I need no other Heat.   

2.  
Invested in thine icy tire  
Come hoary Hiems to my relief.  
But yet I fear before my fire  
Thou'lt drop away; or else for Grief  
Dissolve to briny tears to see  
My fever, and drown thyself and me.   

3.  
If Poison Poison can allay,  
Sol fires extinguish with his beams,  
Come Titan, with thy scalding Ray  
Look out my flame. If by th' extremes  
I chance to get a Calenture,  
That's cool to what I now endure.   

4.  
Cease Winter crowned with Crystal ice  
To frigidate my Eliza.  
Her Heart's the Court of Diana nice,  
Who makes it Greenland, Scythia  
Or Caucasus, the frozen Station  
Of cold which needs no Augmention.   

5.  
She's white enough, and well may spare  
Thine ashy fleece, a foil to her,  
Which when it sees itself so far  
Excelled, dissolves into a tear,  
For spite it's not so fair as she,  
It turns dirt foul as others be.   

6.  
Come Phoebus armed with scorching beams,  
Besiege her with junes' heat. But I  
Fear e'er she'll thaw to amorous streams  
Thyself will't freeze, or from her eye  
(The Citadel o'th' God of Love)  
Thou it be shot and my Rival prove.   

7.  
If Snow can keep the Saplings warm,  
If Wells be hottest in December,  
Winter thyself with Ice go arm,  
And come beleaguer every member,  
Till she yields Diana shall be sent  
Into perpetual Banishment.   

8.  
When thou hast chased her from her hold,  
And art possessed thyself of it,  
If by thy over-chilly cold  
She chance an Ague for to get,  
She shall extract from me such Cyprian heat  
As'l cast us both into a panting sweat.    

The Lovers Sun.  

1.  
LEt age-dried Aeson Sacrifice  
To Sol, and he whose weather-wise  
Autumnine joints at every blast  
Of Boar as keener Breath are cast  
Into a Palsy, and do find  
As much ado to stand i'th' wind  
And frost, as the thatched should, which he  
Erected in's Minority.  
And let Amyntas, and the Swain  
Whose Soul is corn, and Hope the gain  
That the kindly-ripning Springs  
And Golden-headed Harvest brings,  
Every Year  
An Altar rear  
To the gay Planet of the East,  
And with a fatted Horse him feast.   

2.  
Think not (Love's tell-tale foe) to see  
These Superstitious rites from me,  
For I acknowledge unto you  
No Orgies or Allegiance due.  
'tis not thy Atom-thronged Beam  
Creates the Day in my esteem,  
But bright ELIZA'S eyes which are  
Than thee more radiant by far.  
Compared with them, thou seem'st to me  
Like Bristol stones compared with thee.  
Nor is't thy absence (flaming stone)  
That makes my crystal daylight gone,  
But when dear she  
Frowns upon me,  
And shuts her eyes, Oh, then am I  
Involved in Tenebrosity.   

3.  
I owe not to thy sparkling Ray  
The benefit of Night or Day,  
Did she ever smile, thy light would be  
Just as useless unto me  
As is thy bicorned Sister Moon,  
When sometimes she peeps out at Noon.  
When my Saint shuts those heavenly lids  
Whose wink each daring thought forbids  
I hate to see thy glaring Light  
And love my melancholy Night.  
I wish thy race were shorter yet;  
For when my Souls fair Sun be set  
My heap of clay  
Needeth no Day.  
Besides, thou want'st enough of Light  
To make it day when she makes Night.  
So smiles or frowns she me upon  
I either slight, or wish thee gone.   

4.  
Nor owe I unto thee, but Her  
All the four Seasons of the year.  
When Hiems hath benumbed the World  
And such a cold about it hurled  
As thou thyself hadst need to shine  
Wrapped in an Irish Gausopine,  
If I obtain a Glance of Her  
Or if her Name but strikes mine ear,  
I am with a strange heat possessed,  
A Lightning's darted through my Breast,  
And in my glowing Soul Desire  
Hath kindled such a Vestal fire  
As Trent and Thames  
With all their streams  
Shall ne'er quench; but for aye shall burn,  
And warm mine ashes in mine Urn.   

5.  
When thy fierce heat (Olympic coal)  
Hath cracked and thawed the Icy Pole,  
And thou hast wrought thy toilsome tract  
Up to the losty Lion's back.  
And thereon rid'st environed  
With beams ejected from thine Head,  
That rive the ground, and sing the Grass  
And tan the jolly Shepherd esse.  
The Ox now grazes not, but lies  
Tormented by the stinging Flies,  
Or runs to find a cooler Bower,  
I'll slight thy Tyrannising Power,  
I'll not in (vain)  
Wish frost again,  
But shrowded me from that flame of thine  
In her sweet Grove of Eglantine.   

6.  
Neither canst thou (for all thy heat)  
Two Seasons at one time create,  
But all succeed by turns. In her  
All four at one Time appear.  
The Spring perfumed with fragrancy  
I'th' Violets of her veins I spy;  
To evidence 'tis Summer Time  
Her Lips bear Cherries in their prime;  
Wish I Autumn? Lo, all the Year  
On her Cheek hangs a Katherine Pear;  
And Apples on her Breast be set  
By Nature fairer far than that  
Which tempted Eve  
T' eat without leave.  
If I desire a Winter's Day  
Warm Snow upon her hands doth lay.  
But Ah! (which most I grieve to tell)  
He also in her Heart doth dwell.    

Upon a black patch on ELIZA'S Breast cut in the form of a Dart.  

SUre Cupid thou hast lost thine Art?  
See how near, yet in vain thy Dart  
Flew to my dearest dearest's Heart?   

What triumphs can such Archery claim?  
Reason would have thought in half this time  
You might have taken surer aim.   

But Pardon, I blaspheme in Jest,  
Yet dread not thy Revenge i'th' least,  
Thou canst not wound me more than th' haste.   

But 'cause I'd have thee not refuse  
Again at her thy Bow to use,  
I'll cog, and frame thee this excuse.   

You gazed so long her eyes upon  
(Far brighter than thy Psyche's own,  
Or Heavens illustrating stone)   

As dazzled with the wondrous flame,  
Alas! you lost your levelled aim,  
And with half strength thine Arrow came;   

Which, losing th' point did sideways fall,  
And on her Breast hung like a small  
Anchor upon a freestone wall.    

To ELIZA with my Apology for PARIS.  

SEe! (Sweet) the Trojan Prince is come  
To you t' attend his final doom,  
His judgement oft hath Judged been,  
And controverted Pro and Con,  
But if you please t' allow it just  
He'll henceforth scorn each Critics gust.  
And from your mouth our Oracle  
we'll him Loves Minos ever call.   

If my soft Muse you think ran low  
In blazing Cypria, and I show  
But a pale shadow of her worth,  
Alas! 'tis 'cause I drew it forth  
Before your eye beams did inspire  
My fancy with Idalian fire.  
If this I said for th' Queen of Love  
What had I said if you had striven?  
In your behalf? but (fairest) than  
No Argument had needed been,  
The least glance of your conquering eyes  
Had made the youth lay Beauties prise  
And's Heart too, at your feet, without  
Which to prefer the smallest doubt;  
And then he had not needed me  
To coin him this Apology.  
Such choice even Cato had approved,  
And Caesar for it had him loved.  
For this I'll prove, with small expense of wit,  
VENUS got Beauties prize, you merit it.    

To ELIZA, with a Tulip fashioned Watch.  
Lady,  

THis measure of Time accept with serene eye  
From him, whose Love to you shall Time outvie.  
See! what disguise this spy of Day doth wear,  
A Tulip! as the forge its Garden were.  
Indeed heat procreates even Flowers, but this  
A piece of an Egyptian Mystery is.   

Time, by a Flower denotes how suddenly,  
Earth's frailer crops bloom, flourish, fade, and die,  
In special Beauty (that sweet Tulip) hasts  
To wait on Time, then use it whilst it lasts.   

When these small clicking orbs you busy hear,  
Panting in their round journey, like the Spheres,  
Think so my constant heart doth palpitate  
Towards you, and th' Pulse of my Affections beat,  
Ne'er to stand, till she that each happy thing  
Envies (the peevish sister) cuts the string.    

Song. The Maiden Blash.  

Where hast thou been Aurora bright?  
With Bacchus revelling last Night?  
And now the Claret thou drank'st there,  
I'th' tincture of thy cheeks appear.  
Or thou art turned Gallant gay?  
And wilt perhaps to Court to Day?  
And for thy more admired grace  
Hast painted thy enchanting face?   

But Eliza has not revell'ing been  
Nor means to be i'th' Presence seen,  
And yet the same Vermilion  
Her Rosie-tincted cheek is on.   

Or Morn doth blush to see, so far  
Herself excelled in hue by her,  
Else sure carnation Heaven doth die  
Her cheeks, or they bepaint the sky.    

Doubts & Fearest  

Rouse Erra Pater, and erect a Scheme,  
Tell, tell me, may I hope one cheering beam  
From my Love's eye? say, shall my Joys become  
Perfect on this side of Elysium?  
Cast, Cast a figure, shall I find that place  
On Earth in a sweet Heaven of her embrace.   

Why should hope flatter me? since her fair hands  
I find so loath to tie those life-long bands?  
But why should she shun Juno's fane? or be  
So adverse to the Genial Deity?  
Truth on men's tongues (she says) doth seldom sit  
But what they rashly swear they soon forget.  
She says they write in Sand when they take oaths  
And keep their vows just as they wear their clothes,  
Whilst only they be new and fresh i'th' fashion  
But once grown old (like words they speak in Passion)  
They lay them by forgot, and their Love's leave  
With watery eyes to wail the faith they gave  
To their more watery vows; And then in Pride  
In scorns Triumphal Chariot will they ride  
Over their spoils, and tirannously glory  
How many female Trophies deck their story.  
So quick-eele Theseus of two conquests vapour,  
Poor Ariadne and the Minetaure,  
And leaves Fame in the Labyrinth to tell  
Of that, or himself which was beast most fell.  
So did false Jason by his vow-breach prove  
'Twas gain he sought for, not Medea's Love.  
Thus slippery streams the yielding banks do court,  
Then gliding thence, say they but loved in sport.  
Thus winds woo Flowers, but having of their smells  
Robbed them, sly thence perfumed to other cells.   

Rouse ye infernal Hags, ye direful three  
From the foul lakes of Night's dark Empery.  
Give me a bunch of Scorpions to lash  
Lady-deceivers, and to tear their flesh  
With stings, more than they did the gentle hearts  
Of maids they cheated with their Crocodile Arts.  
Hells curse on the inconstant crew that took  
Loves sacred name their fraud or lust to cloak.  
Vipers to your own kind, its long on you  
Ladies scarce credit us that would be true.   

Rest thee Ixion, these deserve to feel  
The weary service of thy constant wheel.  
May the inconstant Stone disturb your rests,  
And ravenous Vulture's banquet on your Breasts.  
And 'cause your flame of Love went out, fry there  
In flames eternal as your shame is here.  
There (though not here) be constant in your tones,  
But let them be Caligula's music, groans.  
May heaven invent new Plagues, and Poets add  
More curses for you to the store we had.  
And may your Ribs in Hell a Grydiron be  
Whereon your souls may broil eternally.   

But ah! I faint! I fear my fate is near,  
I feel that colder poison sad Despair  
Invade my veins, shaking my cot of clay,  
Warning my soul out; thus warned none can stay.  
Yet may I ere on Earth I quit my room  
Bespeak a better in Elysium.   

Sweet SUCKLING then, the glory of the Bower  
Wherein I've wantoned many a genial hour,  
Fair Plant! whom I have seen Minerva wear  
An ornament to her well-plaited hair  
On highest days, remove a little from  
Thy excellent CAREW, and thou dearest TOM,  
Loves Oracle, lay thee a little off  
Thy flourishing SUCKLING, that between you both  
I may find room: then, strike when will my fate,  
I'll proudly hast to such a Princely seat.  
But you have Crowns, our Gods chaste darling Tree  
Adorn your Brows with her fresh gallantry.  
Stay, I'll go get a wreath too, the Saint I  
So long adored a Willow can't deny,  
I'll claim it, and of that as proud be seen  
(Cause 'tis her favour, and in her hand hath been)  
As you of Laurel; 'tis as fresh, as green.    

Sonnet. The Protestation.  

1.  
FIrst stones shall races upward run,  
Scots forget craft, and Avarice Jews;  
The Needle its dear North shall shun,  
And Impudence the public Stews;  
First supple flattery Nero's Court shall flee,  
ere I cease thee to Love, and only Thee.   

6.  
If any object to mine eye  
Seems fair, but what in thee is found;  
If my dull ear hears melody  
Besides thy voice in any sound;  
If my abused taste its art should miss,  
And relish aught besides thy balmy kiss;   

4.  
If my false touch should think it hath  
Felt any thing smooth or soft, but thee;  
Or if my smell, besides thy Breath  
Counts aught Perfume, or Nard to be;  
May Titians Kites feast on me, whilst I see  
My Rival joy in and enjoying Thee.   
FINIS.   

POEMS.  
The Author R. B. Gent.  
LONDON, Printed by W. H. for Tho: Dring. 1650.   

Upon Birth and Infancy.  

1.  
BIrth is a kind of Resurrection;  
For Man is buried ere he be brought forth.  
Th' membrane that veils the tender Embryo  
Is first its winding sheet, than swaddling cloth.  
Death ushers in man's life, so that the womb  
Is both his genethliack Inn and Tomb.   

2.  
Birth is a kind of Goal delivery.  
A Prisoner ere he knows what's to be free  
Man is. Thrice three Months doth he cloistered lie  
In a maturnall Dungeon, after, he  
Lives half in nights; whom Lucine forth dothlet  
Leaves not his darkness, but exchanges it.   

3.  
God's Commissary Nature doth bestow  
The inborn Principals and Physical  
Dictates of Reason on him, this ye don't know.  
And thus alone he proves he's rational,  
He wails with cries which no salt tears do want  
The Ignorance of which he's Ignorant.   

4.  
His lives twilight, or dawning of the Day  
In this same wheel or circular is spent,  
He sucks, sleeps, cries, Tria sunt omnia.  
As if he deemed Death gain, Life punishment.  
He's quiet but sleeping when in jest he dies,  
But when he wakes, and finds he lives, he cries.   

5.  
He is beholding to (though he's by Birth  
The Monarch of the whole creation)  
Brute Animals and hospitable earth  
Both for his vestments and nutrition.  
Being clothed he's lulled asleep by his own cry,  
So, ere he begins to live, he learns to die.    

In Principem arma petentem.  
— Erit ille mihi semper Deus.  

ANd wears his Highness' Buff? stir, Vulcan, stir  
The coals, and forge bolts for Heaven's Thunderer.  
To nail his foes to earth with. Now assume  
Celestial Archer thy sure Bow, new plume  
The Shaft that pierced the Python; Neptune bear  
Thy Fork aloft and many maid thy Spear.  
Sern Mars girt on thy sword and shake the Lance,  
Thy knotty Club, great Hercules, advance.  
Arm Gods, and Hero's arm, keep watch and ward  
About his Person and be his Life Guard.   

May every Sun present him with fresh Bay,  
May he ne'er know what 'tis to miss o'th' Day.  
May's name (like Zisca's Drum) his foes affright,  
May their hearts drop into their heels at's sight;  
And may our arms pave all the way he treads  
With peaceful Olives, or bold Rebels heads.   

Kind Jove give Fortune eyes, for could she see  
Whom she attends upon, it could not be  
That (to what place so ere he would betake him)  
She should so hate herself, as to forsake him.    

TO That Darling of Virtue his dear Friend JOHN WRATH, Esq;  

I Love thee highly, but for what?  
Is't for thy blood or Births sake? no  
I'm not so fond to dote on that  
Which balanced no weight doth know,  
Nor object to the eye doth bear,  
But only fills the vulgar ear.   

Nor for thy fortunes, since we know  
They (sometimes) like the faithless sea  
Ebb from the good, to th'impious flow,  
And them with flattery betray:  
Stealing, like to the thievish sands,  
When most they grasp them through their hands.   

From dead men's urns and dust doth come  
Gentility, but wealth doth take  
Its rise yet lower, that's but scum  
Of the sulphury boiling Lake.  
These I respect, but what I love  
In thee, is something from above.   

Virtue it is, which as a Star  
In thy ennobled Soul doth shine  
Fixed, as in its proper Sphere,  
And making thee (like it) Divine.  
For th' rest I honour thine Ancestors;  
Greatness we borrow, virtue's ours.    

To that emulated piece of Perfection the Lady Diana Willoby. With Sir. Tho: Overbury's Wife.  
Lady,  

HEre comes a Wife to kiss your hand  
By whom both Death and Life her Parent got.  
Yet she's not the worse to be entertained  
Since th' first was her ill fate, the last her Plot.  
Her chief fault (whereof all have some) that I  
Find, is that hitherto she'th missed your eye.   

Your eye! ah! too too dark a word! our Sun  
To which all Poets their braines-births should bring  
There to be tried (as Eagles oft have done  
Their young ones to the Planets glorious King;)  
And banish those, as spurious from their Nest  
That could no: 'bide your most judicious Test.   

View her then (Madam) or rather yourself view;  
For she's your shadow, you her substance are.  
What he Lord wished in her, yours find in you,  
As you th' original, she the copy were.  
Use her thereafter, if she welcome miss  
You are harsh even to yourself, for you she is.   
And I your &c.   

To my Honoured Friend Benjamin Garfield Esq; Upon his excellent Tragi-comedy Entitled The Unfortunate Fortunate.  

ANd is thy Sock on friend? ascend the Stage  
And tell the Antimaskers of our Age  
Thalia's hearth shall Smoke yet; what though that  
Pig-wiggin Satirist makes the poor Press sweat  
With dull invectives 'gainst her Comic train?  
Pox, 'tis 'cause he wants ears to hear her strain.   

We find (such surfeit th' Iron Age hath ta'en)  
More morals at a Theatre than some Fane,  
Our British Turks exhort us there with heat  
With Pole-axes into men's heads to beat  
Their new Capriccios, this Enigma there,  
To obey Kings by opposing, is called clear.  
These are the truest Plays, those we style so  
Teach us in jest in earnest what to do.  
They're Sermons in disguise, a good Play is  
A Lecture of humanity. So is This.  
Thy Muse, the goodliest of the jove-born Choir,  
(From whose Syrenious voice and mellow Lyre  
Orpheus might learn to tune the chiming Spheres)  
Unto a Music Banquet calls ours ears,  
Where (cause best melody in Discords dwell)  
Country and Court our hearing Organs fill.  
First Balaam's Asses bray, beasts set on end,  
Souls drowned in lumps of flesh that downwards tend.  
Yet 'mong these walking clods thine EFFRE shows  
Like one of Venus' team trooping with Crows.  
She thus disguised is no more blemished  
Than a rich Diamoned that's set in Lead.  
Of their Rusticity she partaked less  
Than th' scaly Tribe do o'th' seas brackishness.  
So Danube scorns with Sava's muddy tide  
To mix though both through the same channel glide.  
Thus the coy River Arethusa ran  
Piercing the bowels of the Ocean  
Some hundred Leagues, and then forth issued  
Free from salt Tincture as at her springs head.  
Thou tell'st us how one Dart struck two together,  
Plumed with a Turtles, not a Sparrows feather.  
But oh the frowns of chance that Lovers meet!  
" Less 't had sour sauce Love were too sweet a meat.  
Now a foul Dungeons echo must reply  
Their itterated vows of constancy.  
Yet nor this storm of Fate, nor cage them moves,  
But here like Nightingales they chant their Loves.  
" A great mind, maugre usurped Power, or thrall,  
" Is free in CARISBROOK as in WHITEHALL.  
At length their Innocence breaks forth like Day  
And chase black Nights suspicious clouds away.  
Fortune's like Proteus the changeling Kern,  
" But kick and she'll to her true shape return.  
Thy Lover's fortitude in hard assays  
Got them the Nuptial Garland, thee the Bays,  
In which ere verdant wreath no branch of Vine  
I spy, it's dewed with Helicon, not Wine.  
With strenuous sinewy words that CAT'LINE swells  
I reckon't not among th' Men-miracles.  
How could that Poem heat and vigour lack  
When each line oft cost BEN a glass of sack?  
" When brisk Canary flows with Castaly,  
" Wits torrent swells, and the proud ●loud boiles high.  
If you mixed aught with th' Aganippe flood,  
'Twas but an Heretics, not God Bacchus' blood,  
The Hop's the Heretic, yet thou art he  
Bring'st Truth of Poesy out of Heresy.  
If such things flow from th' fat, a Brewer's horse  
I'll yoke with Medusean Pegasus.  
The Grape and Hop in the same scale I'll put.  
Now, now, the Hoghead's equal with the Butt.   

Go, forth, and live, great Master of thy Pen,  
And share the Laurel with thy namesake BEN,  
Whose Genius thou hast as well as name,  
And as your wits are equal, May your Fame.   

It rests, but that I wish the Actors may  
As well as thou hast written, make the Play.  
" Plays written are not finished, made they are  
" I'th' study first, next on the Theatre.    

ERYNIS, OR, Discords Speech in a private Presentment.  

HOop, Hoop me, or I burst! to what a feared  
Stupendious height I have my Trophies reared?  
Though yet my Power and wishes be not even  
My head at each step tilts 'gainst stars in Heaven,  
In Heaven, where only Jove me rule denies,  
But as he hath me from above the skies  
I've banished him beneath; so of the triple  
World he but one part holds, but I a couple.  
Far, as the mess of jarring Brothers I  
Do puff my severing breath, if they swell high  
And stiffly plead their claims to th' airy throne  
In Thunder that hoarse Stentors base doth drown,  
These my officious worms as loud have hist,  
And pressed from Haemus' top Mars to assist  
Their rage, with artificial claps that mock  
Jove's idle terrors, and his Region shake.  
If they disigning to invade the sky  
Throw crystal mounts on mounts to scale thereby;  
And from their Potgun throats belch gusts that tear  
(Granado like) the Houses of the air,  
In this my knotty bunch▪ worse storms each Snake  
Can raise, which down at last in red showers break.   

Thanks duteous Son, more sage than Machiavelli  
(Though the joke says he scarce is matched in Hell)  
Thanks for abusing the aspiring train  
Their easy faith with, but Divide and Reign.  
To their hopes scene now longing court they me  
Where I make them toil for their Tragedy.  
Thus gulled, they find no Reign, but that of blood,  
And Plagues high swelling as Ducalions' Flood.  
Whilst I and Spoil, like mercenary Bands  
Quell them that call us in, and share their Lands.  
Thus Slaves crowd in, whilst I with smiling cheer  
But clap my hands and cry fight Dog fight Bear.  
Success thus makes th' Oraculous sentence good,  
Divide and DISCORD Reign, she's understood▪    

An Anniverse on the fifth of November.  

YOu that derive your far-fetched Pedigree  
From mighty Brute, from th' Son of Saturn He,  
Sing Io, Io, and fill the sportful skies  
With songs, for joy you tore them not with cries.   

This is the Day (meant for your Day of Doom)  
In which to Babel, rather than to Rome  
Your Commons, Peers, your Prince, your Queen, and King  
Were all intended a burnt-offering.  
The Pyle was built, the sulphurous train was laid  
Which had but one Squib of a Nation made;  
Had the least spark but lent it breath't had driven  
In bright Elijahs Chariot to Heaven  
Princes and Prophets; tattered limbs had filled  
The air, where blood had in red showers distilled.  
Quick Death had given no time to fear his spite,  
The active flame had seized ere had the fright.  
The coward Dame had cut threads unprepared,  
And wounded men ere they could wake to ward.  
Who ere were those unfortunate male contents  
That of this dire Treason were Instruments,  
The Author was that subterranean Fiend  
The common Enemy of Man, his end  
A scandal and an odium to bring  
Upon those People whom their peaceful King  
So strongly guards from all his other harms.  
And to cast dirt he meant by traitorous charms  
On their Religion, that she might here  
As foul as she doth fair in heaven appear.   

The Powder Plot, a Monster Hell did hatch,  
Was such, for which no story has a Match.   
FINIS.   

EPIGRAMS, etc.  
FIRST BOOK.  
The Author R. B. Gent.  MARTIAL. 
— Queritur laesus Carmine nemo meo.  
LONDON, Printed by W. H. for Tho: Dring. 1650.   

I. To my Lady E. R. Commending his Muse.  
Madam,  
IF weight or light in my weak lines you spy,  
Weight from your mouth they take, Light from your eye.   

II. To the same, On War.  
War, that black word, composed of thousand ills,  
Ladies ne'er speak nor think, but 'gainst their wills;  
The Lute sounds pleasant, harshly stern alarms,  
They love not Armed Men, but Men in Arms.   

III. On the Picture of LOVYS the fourteenth King of France.  
THis, this is He that turned the storm to calm,  
And fenced his Lilies with triumphant Palm,  
And by his actions, so far greater than  
His Age, proves Kings are never childeren.   

IV. Antithesis, to the conclusion of Sannazarius his Epigram on the City of Venice, which when he has compared to Rome, he says 
Illam homines, dices, hanc posuisse Deos.  

Those men you'll say,  
These stones the Gods did lay.    

IN silence be the world's Seven wonders lost,  
Thy stately Hills Proud Rome, no longer boast.  
See here! men dwell with Fish! a City stands  
I'th' water! and the God thereof commands!  
Neptune's great Realm's invaded thus, and tamed!  
Not Men (you say) but Gods, this Wonder framed,  
That makes the wonder less; 'tis Venice's praise  
That mortal Men, not Gods such Piles could raise.    

V. To a Cadet.  
What though thy Creditors call Pay? ne'er fret,  
A Pound of care can't pay an ounce of Debt.   

VI An Epitaph, Upon Henry the eighth King of England, Translated out of Spanish.  

O Henry more than this cold cover  
Of stone, thy worth do hide and smother  
The Love of Luscious Venery,  
And stubbornness in Heresy.   

How with thy greatness I demand  
(Poor Cozened Briton) could it stand  
To let a Woman on thee tread  
And yet to be the Church's Head?    

VII. Another, on Queen Elizabeth.  
TThis Urn doth jesabels' dust comprise.  
Here the new Athalia lies.  
O'th' Western o'er the Harpy,  
The cruel firebrand of the Sea.  
Here lies a wit, of Fame the most  
Worthy that ever Earth could boast,  
If, to arrive at that blessed Bay  
Of Heaven, she had not missed her way.   

VII. To Sim the Lecher.  
I Told Sim if he breathed his last at Rome  
His dust with Courtesans should mingled lie:  
For Whores and Heretics there find one Tomb.  
He answered, that's a happy turn, for why  
Alive but one at one time I enjoyed,  
But dead in that Elysian grave shall I  
With thousands lie at once and not be cloyed.   

VIII. To Momus.  
MOmus, my Poems I have sent  
Abroad ere the Carnavall is spent,  
'Cause I would have Carp cheap in Lent.   

IX. On the same.  
MY Book, like Persius, 'gainst the wall he hurries  
Saying, Dicitque tibi tua Pagina fur●es.  
And 'tis more crime (Synesius did suppose)  
To steal a dead man's labours than his clothes.  
What Author in the Vatican is left,  
If this be true, unblemished with theft?  
I must confess I'm guilty as the rest,  
And am (like them) contented to be Pressed.   

X. To Will: Ad. upon his Marriage.  
NOw thou hadst need be very mild and still,  
Seeing thy Kate is wedded to her WILL.   

XI. On Wittol:  
Wittell said, he hoped his Love  
Would a pretty Fortune prove.  
As so she has indeed, for she  
Is famous for Inconstancy.   

XII. On Horns.  
When as the Wife deserveth them  
Why should the Man horns wear?  
Because he is his Wife's head, and  
No Beast wears Horns but there.   

XIII. Epitaph, On Henry the fourth, surnamed the Great, King of France.  
STay Traveller, see Honours frail decay,  
Then pass, and wash with tears thy further way,  
Seek not in Sols whole round a nobler Tomb.  
A Greater King ne'er laid in lesser Room.  
No Death ere drew more Rivers from swollen eyes,  
No Funeral broke the air with sadder cries.  
Pallas was so shared in him 'twere a bold word  
To say which sharpest was his wit or sword.  
These drops o's all the blubbered marble spread  
Are Pearl like Tears, Griefs gems, to crown him dead,  
Weep too, lest thou beest harder than these stones;  
Then passing say, (in broken sounds and groans)  
Although a Bruiter hand robbed him of Breath,  
France owned a Caesar in brave Deeds and Death.   

XIV. On Sir john Suckling.  
THe Rose (the Splendour of Flora's Treasury)  
Smells sweeter when 'tis plucked than on the Tree.  
So odorous Suckling (when he lived a Flower  
Able alone to make the Nine a Bower)  
Is held since he by Times Sith mowed has been  
The Sweetest Plant in the Pierian green.  
Nor envious Fate, nor Northern blasts together,  
Though he was nipped i'th'▪ bud can make him wither.   

XV. On Spend-all.  
SPend-all to Court, to learn some manners went,  
But there in revelling, all his Manors spent.   

XVI. To Leigh the Linguist.  
I Oft have heard thee spend much of thy lungs  
Praising the copious French, Greek, Latin, Tongues.  
English thou sayest is poor, and much doth want  
Emphatic Phrases, words significant  
T' express the Ideas that the mind affords,  
'tis easily helped; Marry, you I want no words.   

XVII. To Mr Robert Brownrigg.  
Prophetic Delius, (to whom is seen  
What is, and what shall be, and what ere hath been,  
From whose instructive Genius, Meeter springs,  
And how to touch the well-concording strings,)  
Being banished Delphos (where he used to show  
Inquisitive Mortals what should ensue)  
To Abions woolly Isle he came, to find  
A Monastery where he might sit enshrined.  
Upon thy Head he happily hath hit,  
Where he reigns, mounted on a Throne of wit;  
And by Prerogative has given to thee  
Th' manor of Tempe, t' hold in Capite   

XVIII. To Mrs Diana Willoby, Upon her marriage Day morning it being very dark and misty.  
Why is the Sun so thrifty of his light?  
Is it to show a Lover's Day is Night?  
No. I've the Reason, the God of amorous heat  
Takes up your eyes to light his torches at;  
So bankrupt Sol, the wand'ring Knight so fair,  
‛ Can't borrow thence one beam to gild the air.  
Look then, and rescue with a glimpse Divine  
From almost conquering clouds his fainting shine.  
As with us (Madam) so it fares with him,  
Without you shine all beams are sick and dim.  
Astrologers (the Lanthorn-men o'th' year)  
Shall henceforth tell, that from Diana clear  
Sol borrows light, not she from his pale Ray,  
Since you make both his and our (Wedding) Day.   

XIX. To his Rival.  
IPrethee why, since Twins in Love we be,  
May not one Mistress serve both thee and me?  
Since in the World's embroidered Canopy  
there's but one Virgo for the Gemini?   

XX. The Rivals Answer.  
Whilst both unmarried be there needs no strife;  
One Mistress may serve two, but not one Wife.   

XXI. To Sir john Falstaff.  
THou think'st Sack makes men fat, faithed makes them lean  
If they drink much of't, 'gainst the wall I mean.   

XXII. Upon the Picture of my Nephew Mr. john Man.  
THe Simulachre of the Queen of Love  
In which Apelles cunning hand did prove  
It abler skill, by adverse ●ates was crossed,  
But Art, loath to have such a piece quite lost,  
Only th'intended sex of Feminine  
Have Metamorphosed into Masculine,  
And though not Cypria, 'tis a Young man  
Whose fittest Epithet is Cyprian.   

XXIII. Of Suits.  
Tailors are Liquids, Lawyers be no Mutes,  
Yet here they jump, they both do live by Suits.   

XXIV. Epitaph, On ascolding Woman, Sub persona mariti.  
HEre lies my Wife interred; oh how  
Good is't for her quiet, and mine too.   

XXV. The Golden Age.  
THe Golden Age, that gilled such golden rhymes,  
Was but a Prophecy of our now Times,  
Though somewhat antedated, or (Sans doubt)  
Now the great Year of Plato's wheeled about.  
For this wherein Laws Lives and all are sold  
Is, or the Golden Age, or th' Age of Gold.   

XXVI. To Kate common.  
IF like loves like, why shouldst thou love the night  
And deeds of darkness, since thou art so light?   

XXVII. On the same.  
TO sell herself is her chief care,  
She is both her own shop and ware.   

XXVIII. On the same.  
Peacock's and Whores are near allied,  
Since both their Tails maintain their Pride.   

XXIX. Occupations.  
'tIs an hard Time say Tradesmen, if it so  
Continues, our Hair soon through our Caps will grow.  
But whosoever breaks, who ever thrives,  
Hoarse Lawyers will live, and sweet-toothed Midwives.  
Especially the last, for young and old  
Stir every stone, to make their trading hold.  
T'wish their gain more than Lawyers is no sin,  
They Jars, these wish agreement friends between;  
They live by fall out, these falling in.   

XXX. To an Antedated Cuckold.  
THou saidst 'cause War makes Men scarce, Women common,  
Thou wouldst ne'er marry, less to some great woman.  
Nor have thy hand thy tongue and oath beguiled,  
Thou'st married a great woman, (t' wit) with child.   

XXXI. womans strongest.  
Why should we women th' weaker vessels call?  
The vulgar Reason, we put them next the wall?  
When I've heard say one Ladies single hair  
Can draw more than of Oxen twenty pair?  
And less it be in constancy we men  
Th' exceed in strength; nay th' Devil himself, for when  
He shows his face he only makes (weak fiend)  
Our hair, these make our flesh to stand on end.   

XXXII. To Mal: Winter.  
Wouldst know why thy name's Winter? there's reason for't,  
thouart like a Winter's Day, dirty and short.   

XXXIII. To cursed Tib.  
‛ 'Cause her low Husband's breeches are so short,  
Long-shanked Tib raves, and beats the Tailor for't;  
Peace Tib, what need you care what wears the Else?  
O, cry a mercy, you'd wear them yourself.   

XXXIV. To loan Toss-pot  
AMongst courageous drinkers thou  
Dost surely bear the Bell.  
Though like a foundered Jade thou look'st  
Yet thou drawest passing well,   

XXXV. Campo-musae.  
Sylvan by wagging of a bough,  
Did because me forth to see how  
The Spring (the fair mother of Flowers)  
Had given new coats to whistling Bowers.  
In this gay Palace of the Spring  
To hear May's harmless Sirens Sing.  
And teach Nymph Echo airs, I spread  
My limbs upon a spicy bed  
Of sweet though ordinary flowers  
Perfumed with West winds balmy showers,  
Here many a theme my fancy hit,  
Each object drew my thoughts to it▪  
I saw the S (Clytie pale)  
Her beauty to the Sun unveil,  
As if she hoped he would be to her  
No longer coy, but came to woe her.  
I thought no Plant in all the Bower  
So like a woman as this Flower,  
'Cause when she feels a little heat  
She opes her leaves and wide doth spread.  
But she doth this whilst the World's eye  
Doth brave the East, and gild the sky;  
When he descends into the main  
And makes night she shuts-close again.  
With that my Muse her Theme did vary,  
Knowing Women do the contrary.   

XXXVI. To my Lady Venetia Grey.  
MAdam, from whom virtue might copies take,  
And Nature learn more beauteous forms to make,  
Chide not my Muse, your humblest servant, when  
Even in your softer sex she spares not sin,  
Since this ere was and e'er shall be her care  
To tax the crimes but yet the persons spare.   

XXXVII. To the same, on her Wedding day morning.  
GOod morrow to the Bride, who (only) can  
Show us the Day, Sol like a Servingman  
Attends her windows, whilst she sits undressed  
He Westward seems, though newly rosneath ' East.   

XXXVIII. To my Poetic friend, I. S.  
DAphne is star-proof, forked bolts never,  
Her flourishing trunk could split or sever;  
She having then secured thine head,  
What needest thou foul tongues thunder dread?   

XXXIX. To Poetaster.  
OF Admiration Ignorance is Sire,  
But I know thee, therefore I don't admire.   

XL. To fiery Face.  
TElling some pranks of thee (plump Jack) you blamed  
Me, and desired, lest I should make ye ashamed,  
Your name to hide; why fearest thou that (Jack) tush,  
Thy face is shame-proof, Scarlet cannot blush.   

XLI. Too a covetous Puritan.  
A Cross you dare not see, for you  
From that and neck-weed fear your due.   

XLII. To the same.  
CRosses you hate, and wish them banished hence,  
Reform your Purse first, cast away your pence.   

XLIII. To a Detractor.  
I Thank thee Aristarchus or stark Ass,  
For taking with a sour Tobacco face  
My Lines, in Snuff, still spitting on each Letter,  
For this makes me review and make them better.   

XLIV. Past recovery.  Hei mihi quod nullis amor est medicabilis herbis! 
When sage Lycurgus, Sparta's Law inactor,  
Made mulcts for this and th' other Malefactor,  
No Penalty for Parricides he set,  
Thinking none would so foul a crime commit.  
So Aesculape the Physic Deity  
Gave salves for every other Malady,  
But none for Love's sore, 'cause he thought indeed  
No Liver so corrupt was such a Plague to breed.   

XLV. Perfumed corruption.  
YOu that quaff Amber, and with Musk-cats lie,  
Embalming your corrupt bodies 'fore you die;  
Who rottenness to make sweet by Perfumes think  
Lose coin and time to gain a dearer stink.  
FINIS.