ΓΑΜΗΛΙΑ On the happy marriage of the most accomplished pair, H. R. Esq And the virtuous A. B. ACADEMIA: OXONIENSIS: Christus: Lucrum Veritas in Profundo: 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 OXFORD, Printed by L. L. AN. DOM. 1640. AD SPONSUM AEDES Brumhamianas primò invisentem. SIste gradum, quavis Juvenis dignissime formâ, Haec statio erranti est placidissima; pectoris aestum Hic relevare potes, nec pulchri indagine vultûs Per varios migres agros, variasque per urbes. Occupet ignarum forsan Brumhamia; in illis Aedibus alma Venus posuere & castra Cupido. Hospitium praedulce Deae peregrine subito, Saucius exibis: Nam quos non vulnerat Anna Sanguinis antiqui Bayntonia! dives avorum, Et decor ipsa suis, cunctis praelata puellis; Et formâ praestans, & primis nubilis annis. Huic similem quondam servavit ahenea turris, Aethere cui puro descendit plurimus auro Jupiter, & fulvus pro munere depluit imber. Pro love munus erat; plus nostrâ elucet in Annâ; Plus pro dote feret; siquidem supereminet omnes Virgineus pudor & divina modestia dotes. Vreris infaelix? Age, divam ambito puellam, (Non benè conveniunt aestus in amante, pudorque) Basia, stulte, petas; nec tantum basia prosunt, Quantum sola nocent. Peragat facundia causam. Quam non suasit Amor, fervens & pectoris ardor? Diva Venus, Venerisque leves faveatis Amores. Tu quoque casta licet, noli morosa videri, Et cave ne renuas sortem, quam fata benignam Insolitò misêre: vagae quot rure puellae, Jllius (heu!) cupidae quot sperant basia matres Virginibus cessura suis! Tibi fata dederunt, Quae reliquis inimica negant; quos sola recusas Quâlibet amplexus emissent arte puellae. Ne te difficilem praebe; vix dignior illo Quisquam nocte tuâ est, nuptae thalamoque pudico. Vicimus, ô Juvenes, laetas Hymenaeus ad aures Fertur, & insignis patitur Bayntonia vinci, Dat quoque victa manum, Veneris jam foedere gaudens. Oscula nunc repetas pulchris signata labellis, Oscula blanda dabit, nec quaeras oscula tantùm: Virginitas jam tota tua est, cùm Cynthia noctem Speratam tulerit, Sol & se merserit undis. Phaebus abit; Properes, & dulcia bella capessas, Collectumque diù cupidus largire vigorem. J. E. To the happy Bridegroom. Whilst we, fair Sir, approaching Winter moan, And grieve to see our May and july gone: These gentler Months conspire to crown your fate: And with joined temper still attend your state. He that enjoys a Paradise, which yields The Pride of Gardens, flowery Lawns, and Fields; Changed seasons cannot feel: to him the year 'Twixt spring and summer doth throughout appear. To the most virtuous Bride A. B. The Paths of Love are plain; and we his Dart Can trace, when it wounds but a common heart. In you, fair Spouse, the winged Deity Is Knots and Charms, Riddle, and Mystery. 1 Tell me, Before what pearled row Ripe Cherries do in Autumn grow? 2 What earthly Glories, scattered rays Excel Apollo's hair and Bays? 3 What Climate in the North breathes forth Airs, than the Eastern beds more worth? 4 What twinlike stars below do prove Light and eclipse to those above? 5 What Snow is that, which is both flame And frost to him that courts the same? 6 What chaste cool Ice hath heat so much, To melt th'embracer with its touch? 7 What Sun is that, which risen benights Fresh Summer, set breeds his delights. Would You unriddle these? in order set The two first letters of the Alphabet. T. F. EN En stellato fulgens Venus aurea coelo Praeludit Thalamis; & multis lucida flammis, Faustas promittit taedas noctemque benignam. Vobis (faelices Animae!) post taedia longa Has sedes sacravit Amor: jam fata potestis Improba ridere; & vanos contemnere casus. Sic postquam iratum tranavit navita pontum, Et fruitur portu, Fortunae oblitus iniquae, Demulcet Genium; atque udis poenè obrutus undis Ignigenae indulget Baccho, tepidoque Lyaeo: Et nondum siccas, expellunt pocula curas. Ite, agite, ô Juvenes, & vos, castissima turba, Quae nondum Veneri specula appendistis, honores Ferte omnes Sponso & Sponsae; lectissima circum Nectite serta torum, multoque è flore corollas: Hoc templum Veneris, tenerique Cupidinis ara. En ubi casta venit vittis redimita capillos Victima purpureos, niveoque insignis amictu. Tali Agamemnoniam cultu incessisse puellam Credibile est, quando formâ commota Diana, Suppositâ ceruâ maestis servabat ab aris. Turba puellarum, cur non imponitis arae, (Huic molli lecto) nuptam? ne brachia vincla Impediant, nec vincla pedes: succumbat Amoris Victima, sponte suâ. Cur palles sacra puella? En mystes tibi sponsus erit: tibi vulnera figet, (Curio iterum formosa times?) at vulnera Amoris. Mille genis teneris, & mille & mille labellis Atque oculis frontique affiget basia, donec Deliquium patiatur Amor: tunc arctius ulnis Corpus formosum amplectens, & eburnea colla, Pectore mulcebit tepido, viresque vagantes Colliget, atque novos sensim producet amores. Adsis sponse sacer: mystes & sponsus: Amoris Mystes, & sponsus Veneris: solennia sacra Sunt peragenda tibi; faveat tibi noctis amicae Longa quies, & serò suos sol dividat ignes, (Quaerit Amor tenebras & amica silentia noctis.) Virgine sic tandem oblatâ sacrisque peractis, Mane novo innumeram possis praedicere prolem. P. M. GOod morning to your chastest loves; the day Hasts to complete your joys: Sol could not stay One minute longer ere he risen; he fled The tedious courtships of his Tethys' bed And wooed Aurora with a gentle smile That she would open the day, and so beguile Night of her due: she blushed, and strait the hills Were mantleed all in red; the wood choir fills The groves with Music: th' morn, the groves, and all, Welcome the coming of love's festival. Virgins deflower the fields: (you may commit Rapes on the meadows and be Virgins yet.) Rob Flora's gaudy wardrobe, and o'erspread The way with flowers where the Lovers tread. This is an honest theft, this, no offence: To sin when Love commands is innocence. This done, the lovers may to th' Temple go: The Temple hath a share in Love's rights too. Religion is the band of love: we tie The lover's knot in this solemnity. The ring's the pledge of love: no other stone Gives it its price but its own union. Blessed Couple! (do I not a sin commit To say a couple when this knot is knit?) This right performed you both victors are, Conquering each others hearts: each hath a share In the others love: from the self same fire Both loves receive their warmth: the same desire Burns in each breast: two bodies thus may be By one soul moved: 'tis Love's Philosophy. Love hath proclaimed a feast: his courts do ring With sweetest Music; and the Minstrels sing: The court's inspired with mirth: who ever now Looks sad and pensive, or contracts the brow, Savours of Schism and faction: he will prove Not of the court, but family of Love. Had some decrepit pair entered Loves bands Snowy with age, and joined palsied hands, Mirth would have been a mock-show. If the Bride Had chanced to smile, you would perhaps have spied Empty unfurnished gums: to sing, at best Had been to cough in tune: and all the rest Of Love's solemnities, but only shown The Bride and Bridegroom's imperfection. Here both are young: youth dances on their brows; Fresh and untainted vigour gently flows Within their veins: hither doth nature bring The richest tributes of the youthful spring. See where the Bride appears: such Majesty Did not invest the Cyprian Queen, when she o'er ' came on th' Phrygian Mounts: or when she strove With armed Mavors in the field of Love. Let but her aged parents gently sipp The balmy sweetness of her virgin lip, It will repair their age, and strait restore A fresher spring than ere they had before. Blessed Sr, be happy in your Bride: those arms Are more effectual than the strongest charms: They will effascinate your soul: but this Bewitching is unto a future bliss. Enjoy her, chaste, and modest: (there can be No better dowry than Virginity.) as the blushing morn, or pearly dew Which drops from Virgin-Roses; whose fair hue The Sun hath not yet courted. Taste the sweet Due to your wedded souls: it is not meet That you should now in contemplation move But try at length the practic part of Love. Warmed by each others loves, you may beget Each night a Cupid and be youthful yet. P. M. SPonsa veni; differs nimìs expectata mariti Gaudia, quàm pretiosa Tibi dilabitur hora, Dum nimiùm benè compositis Te vestibus ornas Tu plus nuda places. Paridis sententia, Palmae Ipsi nec Veneri victricia serta dedisset, Si non nudatae. Nimiam sub pectore curam De cultu retines; non veste ornatior ullâ Quàm Tali, Qualem Tibi connubialia praestant Stragula, lodicesquè, sacri velamina lecti. Undique conspersis sternatur floribus alma Tellus, & Quicquid calcaverit haec Rosa fiat; Lilia virgineae dispergite verna puellae, Hoc agite, & vobis talis precor accidat hora. Accendas, Hymenaee, faces, facilisque vocatus Ritibus his adsis viridi velatus amictu: Sisque maritatis florentis nuntius aevi. Nolo equidem decores humeros velamine flavo; Zelotypi color iste decet connubia sponsi. Ast hinc suspicio, procul hinc quoque vana facessant Jurgia, sollicitae procul hinc discedite curae, Et quicquid violet peramica silentia noctis. Aequo & perpetuo nexu jungantur Amantes Turturibus similes; solo hoc discrimine distent, Nullo cum gemitu, nullo cum murmure vivant. Rumpe moras Zonamque tuam; Quid sponsa moraris? Pro Zonâ cingat, pulcherrima virgo, mariti Gratior amplexus; vivusque sit annulus iste, Quo sua perpetuo firmet connubia nodo. Teque viro jungas, nec vitis amiciùs ulmo Haereat, aut plures (opto) ferat illa racemos, Quam Tu filiolos: parias foecunda Quotannis, Et geminum parias, longâque propagine, foetum; Sitque alter Matris, Patrisque sit ectypon alter. G. W. COme Hymen haste, and bring thy lights, And for a while let's know no Nights. Put thy glad saffron Garment on, Let all dull sadness fare begun, And sing with Music by thy side, Joy to the Bridegroom, and the Bride. Behold here is a loving Pair, They both are young, and both are fair, Thy Torches yet did never see Brave Youth, and Beauty so agree. Haste Hymen then to join their Hands, Haste thee and lose their virgin Bands. What beauty on his cheek doth shine! 'tis lovely, yet not Feminine. Each cheek endeavours to excel, And in this Friendly strife do dwell. A red in either doth abide, As if they blushed at either's Pride. In Hers what Modesty doth sit! The Rose and Lily there are knit. From Her snowy spotless look, The face of Jnnocence was taken. Her Lips in Labour swell, soft Kisses Th'offspring are, and sweeter blisses. Their Friends and Fortunes equal be, Their virtues, and estates agree; Their Age is too so nigh the same, That they scarce differ but in Name. They seem to me as if they had Been Man and Wife by Birth, not made. Haste thee Hymen, what dost fear The threats of this, or t'other shire? Can Bromham mourn, or Cannington To see so blest an union! If to a Gem, a Gem you join, The more's the Prize, the more's the shine. Thou robbest not this, or t'other place, But add'st to both a double Grace; They two being wed, those Towns may be Partakers of the Mystery. Two stars conjoined, both may dispense To sundry climes their Influence. The fruitful vine doth from one Root, Diffuse his Moisture round about; So that the farthest Branch may be The thickest clustered on the tree. So from the stock may branches grow To shade those Towns and Countries to. And now I see 'em joined, the Bells To listening Friends the glad news tells. Joy sits on every brow, each eye Mov's quick as Heaven with Lollity. One wedding brings a thousand forth, For all seem married unto Mirth. But see the Sun how fast he flies And to his amorous Tethys hies: How red he blushes, as he were A shamed t'have kept the married Pair From their due joys so long? Their day Is night, he cries, so posts away. And haste thou, Muse, too, only wish Each night may prove no worse than this; Their Love may still increase, and they Kiss still as loving as to Day. The children like the Parents prove, Some Mars'es', and some Queens of Love R. P. HUc, huc ô Veneres, Cupidinesque, Huc Nymphae, Charitesque quotquot estis, Sed castae Veneres, Cupidinesque Sed quales Charites beatis illum, Sed quales Charites beatis illam, Huc laeto simul advolate cursu. Huc & vos properate, grata, Musae, Turba, & quaelibet induens Thaliam, Vestros jungite Gratiis lepores. Illi junctus Hymen choro beabit Fausto carmine blandulum maritum, Fausto carmine blandulam maritam. Haec junget sociâ dies catenâ, Hugonem juvenum venustiorum, Et sexûs decus omne mollis Annam. Ne citum nimis urgeas Phlegonta, Currum qui regis arbiter diei; Cedas seriùs at nigrae sorori, Festi gaudia protrahens amaeni. Atat, gnavus & impiger maritus Lento irascitur, invidetque Phaebo. Sponsi gaudia plena quid moramur? Et quid vota novae modesta sponsae; Amplexusque pios, sed & ruborem: Sincera oscula, sed simul timorem: Et quae dat genialis ille lectus, Blanda & Cypridos incruenta bella? Ah pigros nimis urgeas caballos, Currum qui regis arbiter diei; Da furvae citiùs locum sorori; Nec sedem priùs occupa relictam, Donec officiosa turba amici, Inter brachia molliora sponsi Nuptam corripiant novam, relicto Nuper nomine virginis rubentem. AN ECLOGUE. Coridon, Alexis. Cor. Ho Alexis, gentle swain Turn a little back again. Whether runnest thou with such speed, Whilst thy flocks neglected feed? Alex. Hast, Coridon, make haste away This is Shepherds holiday. Seest thou how the glad swains run With each an acclamation Of joy, and pleasure, to betid The happy Bridegroom, and his Bride? Cor. Courteous Shepherd read to me, Whose is this solemnity? Alex. Wotest thou not how Brumham's pride (Happy Virgin, happier Bride!) Pan's eldest Nymph, and nearest care, Weds Sylvanus son and heir? Cor. She? the glory of these plains, Whose beauty so bewitched the swains And in her fond admirers strooke, Amazement with each graceful look? She whose every accent might, Charm with wonder, and delight; And challenge in harmonious measure Syrinx, Pan's transformed pleasure? Who when her eye she doth advance Conquers a heart with every glance? She who made the amorous boys, To esteem no other joys; But neglect their flocks to fold, While her eyes they might behold; And not mind the swift-paced Day, Gazing on a brighter ray? Whose amorous and awful eye, Moves with such tempting modesty, At once 'twould kindle a lose flame, And check it? Is't not She? Alex. The same Yet all this beauty now is won, By the Swain of Cannington: Then whom Phoebus yet hath spied Nothing fairer, but his Bride. One in whose ennobled breast virtue's selfe hath chose to rest. True in heart, and strong in tongue; Wonder, in a swain so young! Nothing Noble, nothing fair, Lacks to make a perfect pair. Cor. Join we then, and let our love Call for more blessings from above On this rich couple. Send them down Every Deity a Crown. Alex. Pallas wisdom. Cor. Juno treasure. Alex. Hebe youth. Cor. And Venus pleasure. Alex. Bacchus and Apollo join, To make this a fruitful vine. Cor. Hymen with thy brighter flame Quite expel all cause of blame. Fare hence vain jealousy be set, Where youth and beauty so are met. Alex. That so their numerous joys may ne'er decrease, Each being others greatest happiness. T. P. ECLOGUE. Damon. Cloris. Dam. COme, Cloris, let us hast away, We must all now keep holiday. Thirsill to day must Celia wed, Pan will enjoy him in his Bed. Clo. The news is welcome, such a pair, So young so handsome and so fair Arcadia yields not, what a face Doth the gentle Celia grace! How did she Captivate the Swains That ever saw her on the Plains! What Garlands would this Shepherd bring, What Roundelays that other sing! That scarce a Pipe was heard to play Unless in praise of Celia! Dam. And, Cloris, Thirsil is a Lad, That in as great esteem is had, What Shepherdess on all the green Hath not Thirsills' lover been? Pretty Daphnis oft would make, Garlands, and Posies for his sake, And oft in flowers his name would set, And wear it in her Coronet, And then she'd vow that his name lent, The flowers their colour, and their scent. Phyllis too did often send, Tokens to him, as her friend, She wrought him Handkerchiefs, which she Conveyed unto him privily, And if at any time he chanced To use them when he public danced, Phyllis then was happy made, And ample recompenses had. What shifts would Amarillis frame, If she but heard of Thirsills' name! she'd drive her flocks to his, and swear They better fed, because so near. His eyes she'd call those heavenly showers, That deck the earth with grass, and flowers, And 'twas no marvel since she did view, How in his cheeks sweet Roses grew, She called his face a Flowery May, His eye a never falling day: If that he, but a piping were, she'd call't the music of the Sphere. Clo. Oh Damon thou thyself canst say, How Celia doth both sing and play, How all the youngsters of the plains, Are ravished with her curious strains. How when she sings her Flock will look As with admiration strooke, They leave of grazing strait to hear, And only then do feed the ear. Some stand stone still, as if afraid To disturb the beauteous Maid. But others frisk it here and there, Dancing to the Tunes they hear. Whilst all the Sheepheardesses yield To her the honour of the field. Dam. Then Cloris they are happy met. Clo. They're like a Rose to a Rose set. Like two bright stars they do appear, Both are fair, and both are clear. Sol with bright Venus doth conjoin, Beauty, and Majesty combine. Pan crown their wishes, may they be Not happy, but felicity. A. S. WHat strange sound's this! an invocation Of Cupid, Hymen, Love, Peace, Union! 'Tis well some yet agree; for by those Gods I thought that all the World had been at odds. And didst thou say a Wedding? is't not, Friend, A Tournament these Families intent? Or more vast quarrel, such as threats our Land? Look, yond's as brave a troop as th' Royal band. But hence all terrors, since I well descry, Here's nought intended but a blessed supply Against both wars, and sicknesses: hopes yet, Since though we cannot save, we may beget: He that gave Angel's Immortality, In lieu of that, did bid Man, Multiply. By what name shall I saint these hours? some say 'tis not so much a Nuptial, as Birthday. Since Parents, Friends, each one this day gins To acknowledge him, that was borne single, Twins: And yet I fear we have erred grossly who Do style these Twins; They are not so much two; But shall become, ere these ten Moons be gone, Incorporate one Babe, one Little-one. Of that complete, and perfect Unity, All you boast yet, is but as Prophecy; Your Loves, as ring, are types, that the Church willed, But Progeny is Marriage fulfilled. Nature expects this from you, as her meed; Then for your birth you thank her, with your breed. R. P. Fiddlers, go break your strings, more music lies In the Bride's mirth, than your harsh melodies. Dancers, be you gone too, her panting hart Keeps truer musick-time, than all your art. And what needs these strewed flowrs? if for their scent, Her breath Arabian spices doth present! But if the colour please your eye, why see A blushing rose in each cheeks modesty. Your junkets too are useless, for each guest Finds in the Bride a most delicious feast. Hymen put out thy torch; though love's a fire, Yet darkness, and not light is his desire. But if again you would revive the Sun Let the Bride open an eye, and strait 'tis done. Thus happy Bridegroom you enjoy in one A wife, and wedding preparation. How will the Hinds of Somerset, glad Swains, Run hobbling with their welcomes o'er the plains, When Canington shall turn love's paradise, With the wished presence of your beauteous prize? They'll leave their harvest thougb it shine; the plough The flail, and all shall lie neglected now; And to a bagpipe, whistle, single Kitt, Lift up their heels till they the Seiling hit: Scraping such welcomes that your hall will be Turned fallow with their Gambol jolitye. As if their ploughing shoes would there foretell, The plenteous viands which again shall swell Your full crowned tables, equalling that store Your Father's charity used spend before. Your flourishing age doth prophesy their mirth Shall yearly be renewed with a fair birth. Such hopes are dashed, when youth mongrels its blood With a rich threescore o'erworn Widowhood. Where the not pleasant, but most reverend bride Lies like a Sibyl by her husband's side, Who kisseth her with such devotion, As Anch'rites do some Relic, or Saints bone. But here's no wrinkles, save what Venus hurls On her fair brow, when it with smiles she curls. These strict embraces teach the fruitful vine, And show the honyedwood-bine, to entwine. Like two perfumes mixed may they know no strife, But to infuse in a third Odour, life. G. K. On the happy Marriage of H. R. and A. B. masked under the names of ASTROPHIL and CHARILLIS. YOu Virgins that did ne'er yet prove The power and sweet effects of love: And yet feign would learners be, J'th ' chaste and natural mystery. Go not to your wanton vine 'Tis not love she doth define But loves error, see her Top, Makes use of every Neighbour prop: And rather than she'll lie alone she'll loosely mingle with her own. The Jvy too as well doth twine About the Elm as lofty Pine, If she has store she doth not care How crooked and deformed they are. Such love as this though typed by trees Is practised by those loser she's, Whose dotage thinks all ware will pass, If veiled with loves diviner glass. Her true complexion wouldst thou see, Such as is not Heresy, Whose unmixed and cleaner fires Own their birth to such desires, As a Hermit may admit, Or a frozen Anchorite: Let Astrophil thy Tutor be, Or Charillis chastity. Who to each Virgin breast shall prove▪ Not lovers but the Art of love. Which having learned and that you be Proficients in the mystery; At your Tutors Bridal day, Every Virgin sing a Lay: And as sacrifices bring The pride and glory of the spring. Lilies, Daffodils, and Posies Of the blushing Damask Roses, Primroses and other flowers To bedeck the Wedding bowers. Chaplets fresh, both white and green, Such as fit Loves, King and Queen. Since to each Virgin breast they'll prove, Not Lovers but the Art of Love. That done with soft and duteous feet At Brumham house together meet: Where if the Bride (as innocent As if there were no marriage meant) You find asleep, each one may sip The balmy Nectar of her Lip, Which treasure up, for it will be The best preserve for Chastity. Then with voice as soft and still As Zeph'rus, whisper Astrophill. At which word, as at the Bell Which rings a Dirge or Matins Knell, Rise the chaste and watchful Nunes, she'll disclose her clouded Suns: Which having seen you boldly may Tell the world 'tis break of day. Then with no unseemly rhymes, As are usual at such times Amongst lose Madams of the Court, Make immodesty a sport. But with hearts as pure and free From bad thoughts as Martyrs be When they laughing court the stake, Finer try your charge to make. Which nor sad, nor froward do, You may be chaste and merry too. Each virgin to herself may say That I had such a wedding day! Having bound her flaxen tresses And put on the choice of dresses, To her Love that all this while With a sweet and unforced smile Does expect in one soft kiss To give and take an unprized bliss, You must deliver your rich store Both the Indies boast not more. And like learners watchful stand At the Bride and Bridegroom's hand. Since to each Virgin Breast they'll prove Not Lovers but the Art of Love. Next, when as their lips have shown Their souls more Constant Union; And the God of Marriage stands, With Virgin-Tapers in his hands, Which he lately lighted by, His or her refulgent eye, Then I say, the Virgin crew Of Brumham Nymphs know what to do. And the swains of Buckington, Lacok, Chalne, and Heddington, Pleasant Bremble, where the fleet And parted streams of Avon meet, Wait the Bride and Bridegroom's Nods Like that troop of lesser Gods That once met on Phlaegras green To attend Heaven's King and Queen. And the Birds who chirping say This shall be your Bishop's day, From your cheerful hollow throats, Strive to drown the Minstrels notes. See they come, what light is here! Phoebus is out-shone I swear, And for shame behind a cloud His fainting conquered beams doth shroud. Tell me Virgins have you seen On the Spy or Wansditch green Such a lovely well-shapd Creature? Or e'er dreamed of such a feature? For I know your dreams suggest What doth please your fancies best, Brown his hair is, which doth show The owner of't is trusty too. Proper as the lofty Pine Or the trees of Apennine. Straight as straightest lines of Art, Or those beams the Sun doth dart, When no thick or cloudy days Do refract or break his rays. Would you have me to express In a word all comeliness That nothing may be said beside, he's as beauteous as his Bride. And with her there's no compare, Venus' self is not so fair. She has goodly eyes 'tis true, So has bright Charillis too. Venus' forehead thouged be high Is not white as Ivory. When Charillisses I know Whiter is then falling snow Whose sudden, chaste, and spotless birth Never mingled yet with earth. Her Lips— but oh I cant'runne o'er All the parts of her rich store, Hymen's torch burns all this while, And the Bride and Bridegrooms smile Gently chides at my delay, But they shall no longer stay. Virgins ope the Temple gates Where the Priest and people waits Each as jocund as if they, Saw and had this Bridal Day: Now with fervour join your hands As in love so Hymen's bands. While my humble muse retires Seldom warmed at such bright fires And betakes itself again To its blunt and usual Pen. And if e'er I chance to woe, Beauteous pair, I'll think of you. Since to all Virgin Breasts you prove Not Lovers but the Art of Love. G. B. HAnds joined? 'Twas never Better: see They shadow out some Majesty! 'Tis this stately Posture crownes Kings and Queen's Ambitions: For to make sure his mystique Bands Hymen ties one knot of Hands. Here, Great Love, thou hast a Pair More soft than purest Kidd, more Fair: Which do lend the Gloves they wear Perfume, beyond the Milliner. And where can Rich Scents breathing lie Fit than in such Ivory? Then Happy Sir, the common voice Must needs commend You and Your choice, Who are so virtuous, so Best You will even consecrate your Priest. Come then from Church, There's other Rites Wait to accumulate Your delights. View the Board and see what far The Household Goddess can prepare! For now I can't believe Lar will Live a Batchelour-God still. But hence warming her desires Vesta too kindles New fires. Strike up All in midst o'th' Feast, Let Mirth enliven every Guest: Ceres Ladyship shall dance Attendance, and His plumpness prance That's Bacchus height, for let me see To Dance is Wines chief Quality. So we the Guests have what to do, Till the Room seems to dance round too. Then sadly take our leave, The Year Yields few such days in's Calendar. Such a Night I me sure it can't yield, Till Plato's dream shall be fulfilled. When in the same blessed place You shall repeat the same Embrace. And, but the Diamonds sparkling Eye None present at Love's mystery. Then shall you boast that you have twice Breathed Indies, and dreamt Paradise. And recounted of your blisses The second Chiliad of Kisses. So your successive Love shall no End see; For Time Repeated is Eternity. I. G. Fair Ones, how will you pacify The little angered Deity? Whose Altars none will after dare T' approach with sacrifice, which are Less than Perfection's self; then how Will he find votaries enough? His Temples will turn Groves, and these Perhaps of fatal Cypress trees. Expect you not he'll make retire With's leaden Dart your noble fire, That so the meanest of his train May hope his favours cheap again? No with your single Vows he's more Honoured, then with his wont store Of common suppliants. What if here He lose a couple, who not dare To show their faces now (alas, They meant their Lands should make them pass.) Or if he miss some well-born pair, Whose only Arms are rich and fair? Others, who for their years expect, The winged Boy will not dare reject Their reverend vows, would hither move T'increase the cinders of their Love. Some couples haply are kept back, Who every Good, but Beauty, lack. Some, who being only virtuous, Thought other Graces of no use; Nay, that they lessened virtues praise; As if the shadow added rays To the unseen Light, or the Sun Less welcome were, i'th' brightest noon, When every Atom feels a ray, Then when't beclowded just makes Day. Let these or more forsake Love's Choir, You make the Harmony entire: Had Nature some one Gem refined To th' worth and lustre of the Kind We could have spared each glittering stone, Which boasts single perfection. The wanton Deity is proud, His roof such worthy Guests can shroud, And would his Mother strait remove, T' enthrone a fairer Queen of Love, But that he fears, were this once done He should be 'sham'd to keep his own. Since than already you possess What he can only wish were less, See, he forsakes his useless Throne, And tenders a petition; That when he now and then supplies His half-spent Quiver from your Eyes, You'll not complain to Jove's high Court Of his too bold, though harmelsse sport: How will he tremble to be doomed To th' Rock, till's Liver be consumed? You need not fear, he'll spend too fast This golden treasure, and so waste Your stock away: think how much more Would sickness spoil that precious store; How many beams would Care put out, Or some unlucky jealous doubt, For one, that he shall borrow thence? And all these Fiends he'll drive from hence. You cannot wish more happiness t' obtain, Then such a Client, such a Guardian. G. M. The Bridegroom to the Bride. COme, Lovely Maid, and let us walk Into the Garden, where we'll talk Of knots, and flowers there, which may be The Emblems of Love's mystery. See how yond honey Columbine About that sturdy Oak doth twine! It tells thee, these embraces Be, And Emblems in Love's Mystery. See how yond Marigold displays Its self, and Courts Apollo's Rays; It tells Thee, that thou must be free, And open; in Love's Mystery. Yond Camomile, when most 'tis pressed (Observe fair Virgin) thrives the Best! It tells Thee, 'tis the way to prove, To admit the Pressure of thy Love. See how yond Vine to the Wall Clings, And propped, Observe, what fruits it brings! It tells you if you'd fruitful Bee, You must be propped, as well as She. Yond Lovely Pippin there is spread. Because the Sun it Kissed, with Red. It tells thee that thy Lovers Kiss Will make thy Cheek as red as His: But stay, Fair Maid, yond Rosemary Prefers an earnest suit to thee, That you, would strait married be, And he'll Bequeath yond sprigs you see. Stay then no longer; Meet thy Love, And in thy Union Fruitful prove. Virginity is little less, Then affected Barrenness. N. V. Blessed Union! So have I seen Two Stars, whose fires when having been Divided, showed to th' Vulgar eye Like Common People of the sky, With rays Conjoined dart forth a blaze So bright, as made all eyes to gaze, And Wonders to the World dispense By this their doubled Influence. Blessed Wilts! that never joynd'st a pair More good, more gentle, sweet, or fair, Whose veins swell with a richer flood, Of nobler or more ancient blood. In many Alembics Gold's refined, Before the Elixir 'tis sublimed. N. W. LAdy, when first, and last I saw you set Grace of Great Baintun's Table, as you're yet. Methought the guests more hearty fed by th' eye; To see their meat so carved did satisfy. And something was in each man's thought, which told Until this Instant would have been too bold. The general neglect of their rich fare, Shown there was somewhat choicer, and more rare. Not to be tasted though, so the chief dish Was then (what now you'll better know) a wish. The wine which nimble Ganymeds' still brought, It was not to the Venison, but a Thought. The Supper was a Project, and we fed (As if we had the Rickets) in the Head. Then were our Fancies, (Fancy's very Fleet) Carried I know not where with Love-winged Feet: Now into This, now That, great Family, Sometimes the Portmen, Paulets, and then Fly Unto Great Heel's, and Smiths, and such trim dances, Until at last we rested at Sir Francis. Here it was time to stay, for next like you Something was here, that did invite our view. It was a Face the Purblind God had missed, Venus reserved it to be private kissed. By her own Lipp, and often smiled, and laughed To see this Breast unhitt by her Son's shaft. The warmed youth stranged at this unknown flame, And knew not what it was, nor whence it came. Venus was angry at his ignorance, And in his strangeness lost her dalliance. Whereat she called her boy, (he's never fare) To join that Planet unto This chaste star. This was his business, his delight, his work; And in an instant by his wont lurk, He wounds, inflames, unites this noble Pair, And fills them full of Love, and Free from Care. By This We hungry were, and strait fell too: Yours is a Feast alike; so pray do you. E. G. ECLOGUE. Damon: Phyllis. PRithee (Phyllis) Why this stay? Lose these Rites, and lose the day▪ Seest thou, how the Sun drives on, As if 〈◊〉 ●…nt to dance anon? Or rather Posted o'er his Light, That he might make the longer Night. See'st thou how the Rival Morn With Roses doth her Cheek adorn, As if in this her blushing Pride She were not Bride-Maid, but the Bride? Hark, the sweet Birds are Tuning, Hark, The warbling Thrush, the Early Lark New Lays from one another Borrow, And all to bid the Bride Good Morrow. And thus they'll Chant away the Light; But mean to strip themselves at night Of their soft down, to build a Nest For the most equal Pair to Rest. Why then (Phyllis) Why this stay? Shall we only lose the day? Phyllis. Rather my Damon, why this Hast? What matter though the Rites be Past? Are there such joys, such Trophies won, In seeing a Virgin-soule Undone? Kind Swain— Damon. — Fond Nymph, Blaspheme no more: Nature's dear self hath deeply swore A stepdame hate, 'gainst such as prove Rebels to the pure Throne of Love. Undone? weak Heretic! to give Her lost for that, by which we Live! Should all Breath Virgin thus, our Stage Would turn to desert in one Age. This; 'twould Undo the World, and Rate The day of Doom before its Date. Nay, had thy Mother taught this Gear, Sure (Phyllis) thou hast ne'er been here. Undone? so is the Fragrant Rose, When Plucked, it in her Bosom grows: So is the Incense spoilt, when used To perfume Heaven, because 'tis Bruised. Diamonds may shine in their Own Mould, Yet are more Worth when set in Gold. Call'st thou then her Undone, that's Going The way to thrive by her Undoing? To Lodge two souls under One Roof; To Live two Lives, two Lives of Proof; To part with Maid, yet keep that Name; ( Wife and Virgin are the same) To be all Jce, and yet all Fire; To be Divided, yet Entire; Be multiplied, yet be but One; Call you me this to be Undone? Now she may live as long as They Of the First Age, a Livelong Day: And when Nine hundred years are told, She in her stock shall scarce be Old. To be All Riddle thus, which none Can solve but Death; nor He Alone; If this be loss, if this be Woe, O who would not be Undone so? Without this Hymen-knot the Frame Of Heaven and Earth had stood as Lame: Both sexes make but Man: His Aid Was Eve the Woman, not the Maid. For else a Friend had Cheered his Life; But God gives more than Friend, a Wife. O Powerful Charm, which once put On, Perfects the grand Creation! Phyllis. Yet, Damon, once thou saidst to me In Heaven we all should Virgins be. If such Bliss rests o'th' Marriage Bed, Pray tell me, why done't Angels Wed? Is there that Petty joy can Miss Them, who are sated with All Bliss? Cease then to Woe with words not Even: " The Wife Fills Earth, the Virgin Heaven. Damon. True: but yet hadst thou ne'er been Born, Thou ne'er shouldst see th' Eternal Morn. How should Heaven fill with Virgin's Worth, Did not Earth's Womb first bring them Forth? And though in Heaven no Marrying be; " Yet there the Bridegroom we shall see. Phyllis. Thus fare you Conquer: But to be Robbed of my Native Liberty; To lose my Holidays, when the Swains Trip it o'er the Carpet Plains; Is this no Loss? Nay, there's no Gyves (Say some that Tried) to the poor Wives. Damon. Some such perhaps who strangely take Girdles for Bonds; some such who make Garters and shackles one; Dear Girl, As if this Chain of Mother-Pearle. Did Manacle thy Hands, that Ring Captive thy Finger. Any thing I'll grant my sweet but this. No More: There is no Life to Hymen's Lore. Phyllis. Suppose: yet canst thou name a Doom To the dread sorrows of the Womb? Nomaea once Counted to me The thousand Pangs she paid for Thee: And if Swains cost thus dear, what Cares, What Throbs buy Nature's Choicer Wares? The teeming Deaths of each sad Mother— Damon 've done, Name such another Dam. Come Come, Who would not pay some groans, To buy the pretty little ones? To be a Mother at no Rate— Forbidden it Heaven and awful Fate. But soft; They Come. So breaks the day From mantled Night: so in full Ray Shines the bright Sun, when from his bed He donn's his Beams to deck his head. The Rose though fair, would stain That Cheek: Lilies look wan, nor bright, nor sleek To her clear Front; where the warm snow Of driven Jnnocence doth grow; While on her Cheek the Grain and Dye Of Blushing Virtue Courts her Eye. And then her balmy Lip nor Paint Nor studied Verse can make more acquaint. So many sweets throng in that Face, Each single would Create a Grace. Phyllis. Yet had she more (if more can meet In One) more Fair, more Pure, more sweet; There's He that will deserve her Tall And Full-brim Graces, even All. That Gate! that Look!— Fair Maid, ne'er grudge Thy easy loss, that gainest so much. For if the Casket shine thus Clear, How shines the Gem that lodgeth there? Help me, my Damon. Help, whilst I Talassio and Talassio cry. Dam. But didst thou mark that smile? that Kiss? That smile again, and That, and This? See how they mingle souls; and dart Their Eyes into each others heart. So jove embraced his Swan; that Twine Darkens the long-famed Eglantine: That living Wreath were it a Bough Would fit some Conquering Caesars Brow. Nay Phoebus would forswear his Tree, One day to be halfe-blessed by Thee. Seest thou fair Nymph?— Phyllis. — Too much to move My spring of Blood: If this be Love, I do Recant: By the next Sun I am quite Lost, if not Undone. G. W. Blessed Pair, Whilst others rear huge Temples to your praise, Give a poor Swain an Altar leave to raise Of Wishes made. Success be Sacrifice, And Time the Priest, your Bliss sweet gums & spice. So chaste a flame, possess each breast, As that which fire's the Phoenix nest, When she herself her self doth Woo, Being Husband, Wife, and Jssue too. Sun light's supplied from your own eyes, Both being Fire, Priest, Sacrifice. And as long and lasting burn As did the Lamp in Tullia's Urn. May every look so graceful prove As that, which first did make you love. May she grow you, you her, both one, Both multiplied by Union. May you as large an issue see As those, whom God bid Multiply. And may each birth as easy pass, As when you make yourself i'th' glass. And all so like the Mother be, That she may think when first that she Beholds the pretty infant's face, The Nurse hath only brought the glass. As years increase so may your love, Like flames in Winter hottest prove. When you're grown young in Progeny, Sweetness be changed to Majesty. (So Trees for pleasure and sweet shade First set, at length were Temples made; Delight became Religion And love changed to Devotion.) Your whole lives be one Wedding day. (Winter's a Spring unto the Bay) And when y'are dead, may you b'esteemd by all Love's saints, your Histories Canonical; And Wives and Virgins yearly to your Tomb As to Love's Altar in Procession come. D. I. S. N. U. P. T. I. A. L. E. T. F. E. L. I. C. I. T. A. T. I. A. D. C. O. N. N. U. B. G. E. N. E. R. O. S. I. Ss. H. R. E. T. L. E. C. T. I. Ss. A. B. M. O. R. E. M. A. J. O. R. E. X. V. O. T. O. S. A. C. P. O. S. D. E. D. I. C. G. C.