The Harmony of the muses, or, The gentlemans and ladies choisest recreation full of various, pure and transcendent wit : containing severall excellent poems, some fancies of love, some of disdain, and all the subjects incident to the passionate affections either of men or women / heretofore written by those unimitable masters of learning and invention, Dr. Joh. Donn, Dr. Hen. King, Dr. W. Stroad [et al].

Loves Elizium.

I Will enjoy thee now, my Caelia, come, And flye with me to Loves Elizium, The Giant Honor that keeps Cowards out, Is but a Masker, and the servile Rout Of baser subjects, onely bend in vain, To the vast I doll, whilst the Nobler strain Of valiant Lovers daily sayle between Thy huge Colossus legs, and pass unseen Unto the blissful shore, be bold and wise, And we shall enter; the grim Switz denies Only tame fools a passage, who not know He is but form, and only frights in show; The duller eyes which look from far draw neer, And thou shalt scorn what we were wont to fear; We shall see how the stalking Pageant goes With borrowed legs, a heavy load to those That made and bear him, not ere we our thought, The seed of gods, but a weak model wrought By greedy men, that seek to inclose the Common, And within private arms impale free woman;

Come then, and mounted on the wings of Love, Wee'l cut the fleeting ayre, and soar above The Monsters head, and in the Noblest seat Of those blest shades, quench and renew our heat: There shall the Ce••een of Love and innocense, Beauty and Nature banish all offence From our close twines, there I'le behold Thy bared snow, and thy unbreaded Gold, There my unfranchis'd hand on every side, Shall o're thy naked polisht body slide, No curtaln there (though) of transparent Lawn, Before thy Virgin treasure shall be drawn, But the rich Mine to the inquiring eye Expos'd, shall ready still for Mintage lye, And we will coyn young Cupids, there a-bed Of Roses and fresh Mirtils shall be spread, Under the cooling shady Cypres Groves, Our pillow of the Down of Venus Doves, Whereon our panting limbs we'l gently lay, In the faint respit of our active play, That so our slumbers may in dreams have leisure, To tell the nimble fancy of past pleasure, And so our souls that cannot be imbraste, Shall the embraces of our bodies taste; Mean time the bubling stream shal court the shore, The enamour'd cherping wood-quire shall adore, In varied tunes the Deity of Love, Gentle blasts of Western winds shal move The trembling leavs, & through their close bowes breath Still Musick, whilst we restore our selves beneath,

Their dancing shades, till a soft murmur sent From soules entranc't in amorous languishment, Rouse us, and shoot into our souls new fire, Till we in their sweet extasie expire; Then as the empty Bee, that late•••• bore, Into the common treasure all her ••tore, Flyes'bout the painted fields with nimble wings, Deflowring the fresh Virgins of the Springs; So will I rifle all the sweets that dwell In thy delicious Paradice, and swell In ruggs of Honey, drawn forth by the power Of servent kisses, from each spicie Bower; Ile seize the Rose-buds in the perfum'd bed, The Violet knots like curious Mazes spread, Through al the Gardens tast the ripened Cherries The warm firm Apples tipt with crimson berries, Then will I visit with a wandring kiss, The Vail of Lillies, and the bower of bliss, And where the beautious Region doth divide, Into two milkey wayes my lips shall slide Down those smooth Allies, wearing as I go, A Track for Lovers in the printed snow; Then climbing o're the swelling Appenine, Retire into the Grove of Egliantine, Where I will all those ravish'd sweets distill, (skil, Through Loves moyst Limbeck, & with Chymick From the mixt mass of our soveraign Balm derive And bring the great Elixar to the Hive; Now in more subtler Wreathes I will intwine My sinewy thighes, my legs and arms with thine,

Thou like a sea of Milk shall lye display'd, Whilst I the smooth calm Ocean do invade With such a tempest, as when Iove of old, Set down with Danae in a shower of Gold; Yet my tall Pine shall in thy Cyprian strait, Ride safe at Anchor, and unlade his fraight, My Rudder with thy bold hand, like a tri'd And skilful Pylot, thou shalt steer, and guide My Bark into Loves channel, where it shall Dance, as the bounding waves do rise and fall, Then shall thy twining arms embrace and clip My naked body, and thy balmed lip Bathe me in juice of kisses, whose perfume, Like a Religious Incense shall consume, And send up holy vapours to those powers, That bless our Loves, & crown our happy howrs, That with such Halcian joyes do fix our souls, In sted fast peace, that no annoy controuls; There no rude sounds frights us with suddē starts, No jealous ecchoes there shall gripe our hearts, Suck our discourse in, nor are we betray'd To Rivals, by the bribed Chamber maid; No Wedlocks bond untwist our unreacht loves, We seek no midnight Arbours, no dark groves, To hide our kisses; There the hated name Of husband, wife, lust, modest, chaste, or shame, Are vain and empty words, whose very sound, Was never heard in the Elizian ground; All things are lawful there that may delight Nature, or unrestrained Appetite,

Like, and enjoy, to will, and not his own, We onely sin when Loves Rights are undone; The Romane Lucrece there heard the divine Lectures of Love, Great Master Aratine, And knows as well as Lais how to move, Her pliant body in the act of Love, To quench the burning Ravisher, she hurls Her limbs into a thousand winding curls, And studies artful policies, such as be Carv'd on the bark of every neighbouring tree, By learned hands, that so adorn the rine Of those fair plants, which as they lye in twine, Have flam'd their glowing fires, the Grecian Dame, That in her endless well sought for a name, As fruitless as her work, doth now display, Her self before the Youth of Ithaca, And the amorous Games of sportful nights prefer Before dull dreams of the lost traveller; Daphne hath broke her bark, and that swift foot, Which the angry God had fastned to the root, To the fixt earth, doth now unfetter'd run, To meet the imbraces of the youthful Sun, She hangs upon him like the Delphick Lyre, Her kisses blow the old, and breath new fire; Full of her God, she sings inspired Layes, Soft Odes of Love, such as deserve the Bayes, Which she her self was next her Lawrellies, In Petrarchs learned arms, drying those eyes, Which did in such smooth sweet numbers flow, Which made the world enamour'd of his wo;

These, and ten thousand beauties more that died Slaves to the Tyrant; now enlarg'd deride His cansell'd Lawes, and for their time mispent, Paying to Love's Exchequer double rent: Come then my Caelia, wee'l no more forbeare To taste our Joyes struck with a pannick feare, But will depose from his terrestriall sway, This proud usurper, and walke free as they With necks unyoak'd; Nor is it just that he Should fetter your soft sex with Chastitie, Whom nature made unapt for abstinence, When yet the false imposture can dispence With humane Justice, and with sacred right, And maugre both their laws command me fight With rivalls, or with emmulous Loves, that dare Equall with thine, his Mistris eyes or haire: If thou complaine of wrong, and call my sword To carve but thy revenge; upon that word, He bids me fight, and kill, or else he brands With mark of infamy my coward hands: And yet Religion bids from blood-shed fly, And damns me for the act; then tell me why This Goblin Honor, the World so adores, Should make men Athiests, & not women whores.