Poems, with a maske by Thomas Carew ... ; the songs were set in musick by Mr. Henry Lawes ...

To my Lord Admirall, on his late sickness, and recovery.

VVIth joy like ours, the Thracian youth invade Orpheus, returning from th'Elysian shade, Embrace the Heroe, and his stay implore, Make it their publike sute he would no more Desert them so, and for his Spouses sake, His vanisht love, tempt the Lethaen Lake; The Ladies too, the brightest of that time, Ambitious all his lofty bed to climbe, Their doubtfull hopes with expectation feed, Which shall the fair Euridice succeed; Euridice, for whom his numerous moan Makes listning Trees, and savage Mountaines groan, Through all the Ayr his sounding strings dilate Sorrow like that, which touch'd our hearts of late, Your pining sickness, and your restless pain, At once the Land affecting, and the Mayn, When the glad newes that you were Admirall, Scarce through the Nation spread, 'twas fear'd by all

That our great CHARLES, whose wisdom shines in you, Should be perplexed how to chuse a new: So more than private was the joy and grief, That at the worst it gave our soules relief, That in our Age such sense of vertue liv'd, They joy'd so justly, and so justly griev'd. Nature, her fairest light ecclipsed, seemes Her self to suffer in these sad extremes, While not from thine alone thy blood retires, But from those checks which all the world admires. The stem thus threatned, and the sap, in thee Droop all the branches of that noble Tree, Their beauties they, and we our love suspend, Nought can our wishes, save thy health intend; As Lillies over-charg'd with rain they bend Their beauteous heads, and with high heaven contend, Fold thee within their snowy anres, and cry, He is too faultless, and too young to die: So like Immortals, round about thee They Sit, that they fight approaching death away. Who would not languish, by so fair a train To be lamented, and rester'd again? Or thus with-held, what hasty soul would go. Though to the Blest? O'r young Adonis so Faire Venus mourn'd, and with the precious showr Of her warm teares cherisht the springing flower.

The next support, fair hope, of your great name, And second Pillar of that noble frame, By loss of thee would no aduantage have, But step by step pursues thee to thy grave. And now relentless Fate about to end The line, which backward doth so farr extend, That Antique stock, which still the world supplies With bravest spirits, and with brightest eyes, Kind Phaebus interposing bade me stay, Such stormes no more shall shake that house, but say, Like Neptune, and his Sea-born Neece shall be The shining glories of the Land and Sea, With courage guard, and beauty warm our Age, And Lovers fill with like Poetique rage.