The muses melody in a consort of poetrie with diverse occasionall and compendious epistles / composed by the author Tho. Jordan.

POEMS.

On a Citizen that was so unreasonably jealous of his wife, that he durst not trust her with the neerest in blood of her own kindred.

WHy how now Iack? are you the only man Whose forehead we must hang our hats up∣on? Shall the luxurious folly of your youth Araign all women at the Bar for truth? Can no man now be sociable and good, 'Cause you have had a wildfire in your blood? Because your wife resolves to remaine true Must your in imagination Cuckold you? "In what a Sea of sadness doth he swim "Whose own strong fantsie doth make horns at him? May we not look on her? can we devise New wayes of copulation by the eyes? Can smiles get children? Or if we should leave Some words behind us, can her ears conceive? Why dost thou search thy trunks and chests? as if It should be possible the Placket-theif Could get in there: is no place free from harms? "So souldiers (when the war; began) sought Arms "In silver Saltcellars, and springes set "To catch a Canon in a Cabinet: Go search her pocket too (to quit all fears) And pluck out little Ieffery by th' ears.

There are most sly conveyances in Love, 'T may be Tom Thum is got into her Glove; Search every corner of the house, and then Sit down and coin new faces and new men. Thou sot in jealouzie, whose fantsie vents Impossibilities for Arguments: Quick-sighted Quixot, thou that art inclin'd To look about for what thou dar'st not find: For (I protest) were I the man whom she Would chuse to act his just revenge on thee, Thou shouldst discover me with greater fear Then men would pick sparks out of gunpowder. I'd make thee be (my rigor should be such) A Pillow to the thing thou fear'st so much: Tempt me with hat in hand, and cast about To keep that in which thou wouldst now bring out. Conduct her to my very Arms, and grow Highly contented thou couldst please me so: The Law can not relieve in this distress Because thy own eyes are no witnesses: Which would exalt thy torture; thus would we Pay thy old private scores of Luxurie: And thy mechanick spirit, without doubt, Will bear all this when thou art beaten to't. For shame reform thy folly, let her heart Be no more measur'd out by thy desert: Let not the ills which thou hast done, proclaim Suggested falshood in anothers Fame: He that thinks every man is his wife's sutor, Defiles his Bed, and proves his own Cornutor.

Peccavi, to a vertuous Lady, who was vitiously solici∣ted by a Gentleman whilst she was in her mourning.

AS guilty men unto the Altar flye There to appease th' incensed Deity, After the sin of Blasphemie, or blood Took from the brests of Innocents, whose flood Cryes up to heaven for vengeance; so come I To beg a pardon for this heresie Against your honor: Truth her self can tell No unbeseeming action, such as sell The looser wantons of our times, made me Attempt to break your chrystal chastity: I saw no gesture in you that could say I might have hopes to win the fatal day Of your undoing; but you did appear Stainless, and more immortal then you are Or can be, till the hand of heaven shall Transform your ashes to a funeral: Some men desire to speckle whitest paper. Venus will light her torch at Vesta's taper: It is a truth divided from all doubt, That ne'er a Nun'ry can keep Cupid out: I know your melting eyes, and mourning dress Might mortifie anothers wantonness, But it exalted mine, as if my flame Could feed upon no fuel but your Fame. This crime relates to that in Paradice, Your vertue was the Author of my vice.

Your frowns advanc'd my blood, and made it boile, Your Prayers were Bonfires, and your tears were oile▪ (To contract all) what ever I could see Like frost in you, was a fierce flame in me. "So cowards when made Conqueror, do boast, "And are more cruel when their slaves beg most. I faine would plead excuses, if I cou'd Alledge the frailty of our flesh and blood, Your feature and my love; your youth and tongue, That so I might extenuate the wrong. But my Religion sayes, To do one sin And then excuse it, brings another in: No, I'll submit to pardon: you that have Ability to judge, have power to save Your penitent offender: I confess My fault so criminal, I must address My self unto your mercy, and I spie Her silver wing spread in your either eye To entertain my sute; remove the Bar, The witnesses and Executioner. You shall for this no Judge, or Jury call, At your own pleasure, I will stand or fall.

On handsome women that will marry fools.

SHe that will 〈◊〉〈◊〉 with a Fool 'tis plaine Is either cra•…•…k'd in Cr•…•…i, or in Braine.

An Apology to a coy Lady for a passionate Letter which a Gent. writ to her when she returned back to him a Diamond which he before had presented.

MAdam! In such a calm of peaceful aire As the self-sentenc'd sinner sighs in Prayer, I do salute your Candor; and desire Your mercy may with pardon, quench the fire Of my late Passions, for I must confess (dress: Though they were truths, they wore too wild a I quite forgat the boundless distance that Is set betwixt my lowness and your state: And should (but that I see you disapprove) In time have been a Leveler in Love: You have reform'd my error, and (with high Distaste) dismounted my soft heresie; I am yovr Proselyte, and shall declare To Lovers (such as I am) that they are In desperate error if they dare to prove Man's merit can deserve a Lady's love: Ther's no such thing in nature; he that can But scent the aire that issues from her fan, Hath happiness enough; and he that wears Her scorns, is paid for all his vows and tears. His rings and ribbons are oblations that Defile the shrine which they are offer'd at: Else (honoured Lady) sure that trifle which Your Iv'ry finger lately did enrich, Had not been with such detestation sent To him that loves you like his nourishment:

What is the motive (Madam) I am more Tortur'd to know the cause, then feel the soar: Pray speak it plainly, for the noblest dress Of Truth is her own native nakedness: I never yet committed an offence That was too horrid for my Audience. I will attend you with undaunted ear, Although you utter all that I can fear: My constitution boldly shall endure To lose that limb which will admit no cure: I wish you all the happiness that can (With wisest search) be found in the best man: May him whom you shall please to favour be Sincere in all his services for she That leaves a true heart for a fained one, Doth give a Di'mond for a Bristow Stone.

On a cruel Creditor.

I Will make Dice on's Bones, so doth he cry Who hath the debtor in Captivity: Take heed, ther's none will pity thy disaster When Lucifer (at last) cryes Come the Caster.

On Rebellion.

REbellion is a Paradox, for they Are onely put in trust that do betray.

UILLAINIE. Anagram, I LIVE IN AL.

I Live in al; shew me that Name That hath a larger Anagram: But lest some should think that I Do assume ubiquity, Let them know I want the Art To be All in every part: But yet I live in all; I know All Languages, and Nations too: 'Tis not France with all her Apes Can outvye me in my shapes; I wear a Cope, I wear a Crown, A Souldiers sword, a Lawyers gown, And (with rev'rence be it spoke) The Surplice and extempore cloak: I wear a chain, sometimes a ruff, A purple Robe, a sute of Buff: A livery-hood, a Country coat, A seaman's cap (whose subtle boat Sailes with all windes, and, as I can Change shapes, I li•…•…e in every Man, And every Place; I live at Court, And where an Army doth resort (By which so many men are undon.) I live at sea, I live in London: In all parts of it I range, And I alwayes keep the change;

I live in Courts of peace and war, On the Bench, and at the Bar: Sometimes like to love and fury, I have been in Iudge and Iury: In Physitians I live close, But am us'd in every dose: In my coat of Armes I bear A Roundhead and a Cavalier. I wear all Passions; but I move Surest in the shape of Love: Or in Religion, there I flye (why? At God knows who, and who knows In a Shopkeeper you'l guess What I am when I profess: In a Politick I cry, Law, Religion, Liberty. In a Justice I lye hid, Yet in's Clerk I'm quickly spid: But my subtleties grow evener In a Broker and a Scrivener. In a Sectarist I flame Like the Aire of Amsterdam: Covenants and Protestations Are my yeerly Recreations. But I am (such is my fate) Never from the Counter-gate, And a house in Broadstreet, where I am in my proper sphere. But (to cut off prolixity) you shall Find (by my Anagram) I Live in all.

Defence composed for his friend Mr. Th. Ea. who ignorantly had perswaded some Gentlemen his friends to wash their faces with Mercury, one of them being an elect Bridegroom, the night immediately before the Nuptials, who the next day were much blistered with the venome, and he much accused by the Ladyes, as if it had been done on purpose.

THE winged feet of fame that alwayes brings On swiftest pinnion•…•…, most unwelcome things, Inform'd the Centinel that waits upon My late araigned Reputation, That I have done an Act which much offends Men whom I balance with the best of friends: That I with venome should deform those faces Wherein faire Ladyes found so many graces, At such a season when bright Hymens taper Inflam'd the Bride, and made the Bridegroom caper, When all prepar'd themsel•…•…es in the best dress Of civil Art, and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 coml•…•…ness: When active youth, and Beaut•…•… did put on Their smoothest brows, and best complexion; That I against this Time, without incitement, Should perpetrate this fact, so runs th' inditement: To which I plead Not guilty, cause th' event Doth make men Criminal, or innocent: That I was instrumental in't, I grant, But of the vile event as ignorant

As cradled infants; 'tis an Act below My name, my spirit, and my Nature too: Did my Accusers know how much I prize My friends, they would with more indulgent eyes Look on this chance; the Ladyes (as I hear) For it esteem me much their injurer, Which is (indeed) the greatest cause that I Make this Confession, and Apology: I am so much a servant to that Sex Whose ruby lips, bright brows, and Ivory necks Surprize all eyes, that their alone commands Have power enough to stay my active hands From my worst Enemy, if he be one That wears the badge of their Affection: How then should I accomplish a design Of such dishonour to their friends and mine? Salute the Ladies from me; let them see My Penitence and my integritie: Assure them that the sacred Nuptials which Their precious presence lately did enrich, Is of so much esteem with me, that I Disclaim all thoughts or Acts of injury. Tell them I am divided from all rest, Till they have sign'd me a Quietus est.

A Letter to the Gentlemen, in which this Poem was inclosed.

To his honoured friends, &c.

Gentlemen,

I Am so sensible of the Ladyes sorrows for your disa∣sters and my own sufferings for their displeasures, that I have penned this Poetical Apology to soften their •…•…ensures: which being assisted with your manuduction, may be the more conducible to their satisfaction.

The result of it, will (I hope) beget such a faire under∣standing, that the mistaken difference shall be reconci∣•…•…ed, and his repute restored, who is theirs and

Your faithful servant The. Ea.

An Ode composed for three voices, at a celebration of the Birth-day of the much honoured G. D. Gent. on Novemb. 29.

I. Voc.

•…•…Oy in the Gates of him whose bi•…•…h Gives generation to our Mirth, Whose Fame and meritorious dayes, •…•…clipse the lustre of all praise.

Chorus.

Then let our invention Exceed Apprehension Let liberty dance a Lavalto, Till Ceres and Bacchus With jollity rack us. And ev'ry mans brains are in Alto.

II. Voc.

Let none appear under this roof, Whose spirits are not sorrow-proof. All constellations we defie That frown at this Nativitie.

Chorus.

We laugh at the silly Presages of Lilly. We fear not the force of Invasion: The Schoolemen are dullmen: They fool men and gull men; 'Tis Love is the Art of perswasion.

III. Voc.

Let no man in this Circle move Whose soul is crost with Law or Love We likewise do exclude his Pate That deals in stratagem, and State.

Chorus.

The sum of our treasure Is freedom in pleasure. Nor will we forget to remember The motive that raises Our voices with Praises The 20 day of November.

Vote to the much honored THOMAS BRIDGES, Merchant in Alderman-bury London, and to his most vertuous wife.

IF Health and Treasure, Love and Mirth Be all the happiness on earth, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 wish that every thing you touch, Or can but think on, may be such. May all the Pleasures, that we see •…•…nder bright heaven's Canopie, Waite upon you, and may old Fame Receive advantage from your Name. Let your quick understanding be Clear and serene as Purity. May all your Excellencies prove The powerful Adamants of Love: And may that lustre of your life) Your fertile, chast, ingenious wife Continue in her loyal flames, And be the guide to vertuous dames, May your Childrens childrens merits Be the pictures of your spirits; Then may you draw an equal breath, With long sweet life, and easie death. May Cities, Towns, Ships, fields, & bowers Talke of no other worth but yours: And may no company (one minute) Be sorrowful when you are in it.

An Epitaph on a scold.

HEre lyes, in dust, a married man's great wo, A nimble Linguist, or a quick-tongu'd shrew. Now she is dead, and dust to dust is flung; The earth holds her that ne'r could hold her tongue.

On Jack Summer, who with two shillings, won twenty pounds of Captaine Swallow.

WHen poor Iack Summer was an overcomer Of Swallows purse, one Swallow made a Summer.

On Scorta.

SCorta (the whore) sayes she'l pay all her owings In the next Term, if God send good her doings.

An Epitaph on Mr. Will. Lawes Batchelor in Musick, who was mortally shot at the siege of Westchester.

COncord is conquer'd: In this Urne there lies The Master of great Musick's mysteries, And in it is a riddle like the cause: Will. Lawes was slain by such whose wills were laws.

A Defence for Musick in its Practique and Theorick, Dedicated to all Lovers of Harmony, but more especially to the much honored Mr. JOHN ROGERS.

EMpress of Order, whose eternal Armes Put Chaos into Concord; by whose Charmes The Cherubims in Anthems cleer and even Create a Consort for the King of Heaven: Inspire me with thy Magick, that my Numbers May rock the never-sleeping Soul in slumbers: Tune up my Lyre, that when I sing thy merits My subdivided Notes may sprinkle Spirits, Into mine Auditory, whilst their fears Suggest their souls are sallying through their ears. What Tropes or Figures can thy glories reach, That art thy self the splendor of all Speech? Mysterious Musique! He that doth thee right, Must shew thy Excellence by thy own Light: Thy Purity must teach us how to Praise, As men seek out the Sun, with his own rayes. What Creature, that hath Being, Life, or Sense, But wears the badges of thy Influence? Musique is Harmony, whose copious bounds Is nor confined onely unto Sounds, 'Tis the Eys object (for without Extortion) It comprehends all things that have Proportion. Musique is Concord, and doth hold allusion With every thing that doth oppose Confusion.

In comely Architecture it may be Known by the Name of Uniformity, Where Pyramids to Pyramids relate, And the whole Fabrick doth configurate: In perfectly proportion'd Creatures we Accept it by the title Symmetry, When many Men for some design convent, And all concentre, it is call'd consent: Where mutual hearts in sympathy do move, Some few embrace it by the name of Love: But where the Soul and Body do agree To serve their God, it is Divinity: In all melodious Compositions wee Declare and know it to be Symphonie; Where all the Parts in Complication roll, And every one contributes to the whole. He that can set, and humor Notes aright, Will move the Soul to Sorrow, to Delight, To Courage, Curtesie, to Consolation, To Love, to Gravity, to Contemplation. It hath been known (by its Magnetique Mo•…•… To raise Repentance, and advance Devotion▪ It works on all the Faculties, and why? The very Soul it self is Harmony. Musique! it is the breath of Second Birth; The Saints employment, and the Angels Mirth. The Rhetorick of Seraphims, a Gem In the Kings Crown of New Ierusalem They sing continually; the Exposition Must needs infer there is no intermission

I hear some men hate Musick: let them shew In holy writ, what else the Angels do: Then those that do despise such sacred Mirth Are neither fit for Heaven, nor for Earth.

A Banquet of Discord, dish'd up and dedicated to all lovers of Confusion, and contemners of Con∣cord.

1.

COme hither you to whom the breath Of Musique is a second Death: Whose untun'd ears are neither 〈◊〉〈◊〉 For Concord, Poesie, nor wit. That chatter in unpointed Prose, And use no Organ but the Nose: Who Fantsie nothing but the rents Of Families and Governments; Whose spirits are as rude as Rocks, And Blasphemies are Orthodox. My Fantsie hath a mess of Ministr•…•…s which Shall please you all, and make your long ears itch,

2.

The first soft Musique I can finde, Are herds of Hogs perplex'd with winde, And taught by Dogs of Farmers house The tearing Sol-fa of the Souse. And next, to please your approbation, A Quire of Cats in Copulation.

Where you will hear exceeding skill, If treble Pu•…•…s but hit the •…•…rill. But to provoke your active heeles, Fifty new Carts with ungreas'd Wheeles. (sound, Then, when Hogs, Cats, and Wheeles in Chorus Who will not say you are with Discord crown'd?

3.

The next (in stead of Drums, and Tabors) Twelve Strumpets in abo•…•…tive Labors To mixe with these, a shrill Grand Jury Of Fi•…•…-wives fill'd with Ale and fury, Whose every close doth sweetly roare With Witch, and Bitch, and Bawd, and Whore; Ten Pewterers, with Platters empty, Tinkers and Kettles four and twenty, Thirty Lock-smiths, forty fellows: Blowing of as many Bellows; And whilst all these in Parts together chime, I will have sixteen rag-mills to beat time.

4.

Then for the melody of Fowles, Thirteen Peacocks, nineteen Owles, Fifteen Ravens, eighteen Dawes, Naked Rooks with empty Crawes: And instead of Lutes and Citterns Chatt'ring Magpies, Crows, and Bitterns: With a set of Trencher-scrapers That will make your teeth cut Capers: And (to fill ye with amazements) Northern windes, and open Casements.

If these will not content, (to help the Quire) The Bells shall ring as when a Town's on fire.

5

Dying men when they are Rack'd, Womens cryes when Towns are sack'd, Irish mourners when they howle Over some departed soul: Wracks at Sea where few are savers, Whirlwinds cut in Semi-quavers: For I know (without misprision) You are Lovers of Division: This is Musique fit for them Who do Harmony contemn. When this grows stale, and that you wish for new, The other world may better furnish you.

An Epigram on a Mad-man.

A Friend desir'd me once, as I pass'd by Bedlam (the Dippers University) To walk in there with him, where when I came, I did behold one as much out of frame As was the Chaos in continual Night, Before Jehovah said, Let there be Light; Madness and Drunkenness conjoyn'd in one, Would sure have made a less confusion Then that within his Brayn: some people by Observing so supreme an Extasie, Ask'd if he were marryed that had this strange fit: No (quoth the mad-man) I'm not so mad yet.

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A meer Souldiers Resolution, written by his own a•…•…∣rection in the yeer 1642.

PReach not to me the justice of your Cause, Your Priviledges, or the Kingdoms Laws, Nor call't Religion to oppose your King; Such stale pretences fram'd for quarrelling Ile neither hear, nor ayd; I come to be A sacrifice for my Necessity. Give me the Coyn, shew me the golden showrs, That onely is my Cause, and why not yours? But (late) I heard a winged Herald sing, The Cause hath left us, and is gone to th' King. Why then beat up your Drums, leavy your Men We all go for the Cause, to fetch't agen; Yet stir not till the Troopers have their pay, The price of blood, just thirty pence a day: This makes me mount my Jennet; do not tell What else we fight for, and the Fiends of hell, Circled with unextinguishable fires Shall never daunt: But when your Cause requires, There I am lost agen, foyl'd with a fright: Your Cause is th' onely cause I cannot fight.

An Elegie and Epitaph, in two Acrosticks, composed on the pious memory of Mistress Grace Dray•…•…on, late wife to William Dray•…•…on 〈◊〉〈◊〉, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 whom she was marryed the 20 of Ja•…•…y 16•…•…2. and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 the 20 of June 1653.

•…•…onder of women, give us leave to 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 on thy sacred UrneWord; •…•…et our 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tears •…•…ll 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thy Herse▪ •…•…ke th•…•…se 〈◊〉〈◊〉 drops that pierce 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hard Ma•…•…ble. She is gone in whom All female excell•…•… 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hath found a Tombe Modesty, Prudence, Temperance, and Wit, Devotion, Love and Loyalty do yet •…•…enown her Name; she was as true a wise, As was her husbands blood unto his Life: Young wives, k•…•…ng but her, might learn from thence The A•…•… to twist Love and Obedience: One in whose ever active soul did move Nothing but •…•…ial fear, and Nuptial Love.

The Epitaph.

〈◊〉〈◊〉, or go by, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that true grief forbea•…•…▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 that in triumph which we writ in tears. All •…•…ys we banish•…•…; they are as contrary, Compar'd with as, as Iune and Ianuary: Every Mourner that doth not present Distilling eys, destroys ou•…•… 〈◊〉〈◊〉. Reader! within this Cabinet there 〈◊〉〈◊〉 A Jewel bright, as So•…•…s meridian Eyes: Touth mi•…•…'d with mental beauty, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 was 〈◊〉〈◊〉 That made all Vertues her Complexion. 〈◊〉〈◊〉! l•…•… 〈◊〉〈◊〉 tears flow freely, for we shall Ne'er finde more cause to wash a Funeral.

To his disdainful Mistress, from whom he receiv'd a Re∣pulse at the presentment of his service to lead her by the Arm in the street.

I Shall give truth the lye, and must engage In your defence the Pens of this whole Age, Not to acknowledge that your form and features Make you shine brightest 'mongst the best of Crea- He that surveys your Person with my Sense (tures. Shall meet (at once) Light, Heat, and Influence; Yet where you scorn, Experience bids me say, You raise December in the midst of May. (Crowns The Chairs of State, the Scepters, Thrones, and Of Life and Death are in your smiles and frowns, This truth I freely vent, although you crack The sinews of my soul upon the rack Of undeserv'd displeasure, I must needs Confess, all Vertue in your bosom breeds; You are the mirror of all worth: Yet why (If I may so capitulate) must I For some offence unacted, or unknown, Be tortur'd thus under the frigid Zone Of your contempt? What have I done that can Devest me of that Priviledge which Man And manners justly claim? What is in me So opposite unto civility, That you should scatter your disdains upon The soft Address of my Devotion?

W•…•…y should the bared Head, and bended Knee Of faithful service meet such nicety? You make me doubt my self, and wonder what Great Error (like an Attom or a Gnat) I am accus'd of; whether I did stand Right with my Legs, or gave you the wrong Hand: Whether my Gloves were on, or I did err In wearing some unbutton'd Handkercher: Which of these hainous sins it is, I can No more conceive then a deceased man. Pray manifest the Cause, and let me know What is the cruel Author of my woe, That I may curb the Love which did intrude, And (for the future) cease to be so rude With such Perfection; I will let the world (To my own scorn) know why my hopes are hurl'd From your bright Mercy: they shall understand It is like Sacriledge to kiss your hand, And that to Arm you brings as bad a fate, As to be found in Arms against the State.

On Mrs. Howlet, and Mrs. Boone.

FIckle (they say) loves Howlets daughter, she That is his eldest, Mistris Margery: And some suppose the wddow Boon will draw All his Affection, (Mistress Barbara) But will not he appear a gross Buffoon To marry with Madg Howlet, or Bab Boone?

To a Bla•…•…-moor that had married a deformed Spanish∣woman, and was jealous of an English Gentleman.

BLack Don de Negro fears that I will be A sharer in his •…•…ty Venery He doth believe that in his absence I Invoke his devil to Adultery, When (Heaven knows) 'tis such a Creature, no•…•… But one that doubts the Resurrection Would meddle with, a face Men flye in drink, Whose eys are Torches, and whose veins •…•…un 〈◊〉〈◊〉 A thing that sure some Succubus hath nursed, And onely waits the hour of Go ye cursed. Yet this strange muddy medly of things horrid, Makes Don doubt horns upon his woollen forhead And I must be the object of his doubt, I tell thee Don, and all thy sable rout, Thou fear'it in vain; I would not (I protest) Add one pin feather to thy Magpies nest For both the Indies: many (by this light) Have been undone onely with black and white Besides, he is betray'd by self-deceivings, That takes an armful of the devils leavings. Dost think I'll deal in Charcole? smack a smother▪ And dig in one hell to deserve another? Or will I leave my lovely Pol•…•…ie With all her Virgin sweets, to sweep thy Chymnie? Dost think I'll •…•…ine thy Buck•…•…m with my Tissue? And contribute unto thy checquer'd Issue?

To fright the Midwife with a womb that swells With a strip'd stripling arm'd in Tortoise shells? And in a time where Reformation hath Made Venery as venial as the Bath? Dost think I'll have my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 look like a Leper? Like Snow and Gunpowder? or Salt and Pepper? I hate that hand of Cards, where he that rubbs Hath nothing dealt him but the ten of Clubbs. Shall I pollute my Limbs with an embrace For a py'd Ki•…•…ling with a dappled face? A Cradle full of twylight? prirt and Margent? A Coat parte-per-fess, sable and argent? A speckled spawn? joy twisted with disaster? Or je•…•… concorporate with Alabaster? Forbear thy frantick follies, thou mayst be •…•…ooner perswaded I could bed with thee. Can thy ambitious fears think any one Would taste of that which thou hast blown upon? Decline these doubts: when 〈…〉〈…〉 With a conjuncti•…•…e generating postu•…•…, (〈◊〉〈◊〉, The pregnan•…•… womb of Wolves shall bring forth The robbing 〈…〉〈…〉 Of rocking Bears shall (against 〈…〉〈…〉) Embrace the 〈…〉〈…〉. When we do mixe in a •…•…real 〈◊〉〈◊〉. The late dead •…•…ng and 〈…〉〈…〉 In Westminster Religion shall 〈◊〉〈◊〉 The lofry longings of a States-mans Soul.

An Epitaph on a Prisoner for Debt, who dyed of Feaver in the Counter.

HEre falls the trophie of a rich man's pride, Who by a Creditor was crucified: The Goal became his Cross, a Feavers flashes Design'd his Death, his Altar, and his Ashes: Therefore a Gamester lies under this Tyle, To whom the Counter prov'd both Cross and Pyle

A Bull made Sense.

AS Three were walking by a Hedge, one cries I spye a cluster of red Black-berries. The second laughed, the third (in his defence) Said he would justifie it to be Sense, And with this Question gravely steps between Are not Black-berries red when they are green?

On Cavaliers wearing of much Ribbon.

WOuld you know why sequester'd Cavaliers (Like Haberdashers shops that vent smal wares) Wear so much Ribbon? Who before were forc'd To flye from Naseby ragged and unhors'd? The State took care for them that since their fall, They should be drest in Haberdashers-hall.

A Congratulatory to the bountiful Lover of the Liberal Sciences, Sir THOMAS PRESTWICH Baronet.

BRight Beam of honor, in whose worth and w•…•… The ravish'd ruines of the Muses sit; If wishes wing'd with the felicious flight Of nimble numbers may create delight, Or if this composition may set forth The zeal of one that hath more will then worth, •…•…uspend your approbation, and you'l see How much my Lo•…•…e exceeds my Poetry. Heroick thoughts enflame your soul; may no Affronts afflict you wheresoe'er you go: All that is mix'd in Consolations dish, What studious man can think, or we can wish, Crown all your Contemplations; may the skie With fattest favours fill your Treasurie: Honor embalm your Name, and may your fall Make you rebound to joys Aethereal. May all the happiness that can be due To a redeemed Spirit wait on you. Love be your Manuductor; may the tears Of Penitence free you from future fears. Divinity direct your wary ways, And guard you from the forth of bad mens praise. These wishes issue from the soul of one Who means you more then he can think upon.

To Coll. Washington, on his word Away with't, &c▪ Composed in 1643.

COme Gentlemen Away with't, stand t'your Arms In wa•…•… the valiant prove most free from harms The Rear's not more secure then is the Van; Death doth not always meet the formost Man: What would become of me then, who did ne'er Bring up the Front to fall into the Reare, Like some wise Leader; who can well endure The Guns to quarrel whilst they stand secure? Who fain would purchase honor if they durst. He that Commands in chief should be serv'd first, And so will I be, though the field be set With Henbane, Wormwood, deadly Acconi•…•…, Or what soe'er comes terrible to fright The Feeling, Hearing, Tasting, Sent, or Sight. My word's Away with't: if you'l know the Cause. 'Tis this, it comprehends my Martial Lawes: Let not a Souldier dare (that bears a Gun) Having receiv'd his weekly pay, to run Away with't, lest the Marshal (arm'd with death) Stop (both at once) his running and his Breath Let 〈◊〉〈◊〉 a souldier from a Townsmans grass Drive forth a Lamb, or Sheep; he shall not pass Away with't, lest he suffer that, and more (If more can be) then his Camrade before: Let not a Souldier in his Quarters break A Trunk or Chest for gold; he shall not sneak

Away with't; 'tis his Majesties intent 〈◊〉〈◊〉 should command an honest Regiment. But (hear me souldiers) if you sack a Town That is in opposition to the Crown, And in their bags or Cabinets do know Where Plate and Jewels are, I'll bid ye goe Away-with't: 'tis no more th•…•… su•…•…um 〈◊〉〈◊〉 To pillage them that come to Plunder us: If you finde Linnen, Woollen, Swords and Knives, Or any thing, but their unuseful wives, Away with't: but you sots that do encl•…•…e To pillage Cellars of their Beer and Wine, Take heed of Rats-bane, such fair bayts are se•…•… To tempt your Palates, and you'l hardly ge•…•… Away with't: if ye finde Powder and Match, •…•…ikes, Musquers, Bullets, with all quick dispatch Away with't, load the Cart, when all is done, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 march Away with it, quoth Washington,

On 〈◊〉〈◊〉 •…•…-Precher.

Went the other day to see a Lay-man Ascend the Pulpit (some say 'twas a Dray-ma•…•…▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 in his Prayers he made (as •…•…me believ'd) 〈◊〉〈◊〉 hundred sev•…•…ral faces: 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 •…•…o see him so, for (i•…•… he w•…•… 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉) •…•…ey were no 〈◊〉〈◊〉▪ 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉 〈◊〉〈◊〉.

To the great lover and protector of Honor and Sciences Sir Henry Newton Knight, &c.

SIR, I salute your Candor, and commit These courser Compositions to your Wit: All that I can commend unto your youth And abler skill, is this, That they are truth: Much Learning and Humanity we see Doth issue from your ingenuity. Vice is your Enemy, and there doth flow Nothing but worth from your Seraglio; Excellent Sir, I know you use to sip Much of the Muses fair goodfellowship, Leander and lov'd Hero's Life and Death, With all the Verse since Queen Elizabeth, Lifts not the front of Fantsie up so high As you can when your Genius will comply. All that is Excellently, Good, and New, Pious and profitable, chaste, and true, You have an int'rest in, y'are one of those That love all worth which men e'er spake in Prose. Reason and all the rules of Art have taught You to excel in things above my thought. The figure of your fame deserves to grow Green in the leaves of Michael Angele, Xeuxes, or great Apelles. I shall then Conclude, and leave you to a nobler Pen.