Poems by John Hall.

POEMS. The first Book. (Book 1)

A Satyre.

PRay let m' alone, what do you think can I Be still, while Pamphlets thus like hailstons fly About mine eares? when every other day Such huge Gigantick volumes doth display, As great Knockfergus self could hardly bear, Though he can on his knee th' ale standard rear, To see such Paper-tyrants reign, who presse Whole harmlesse 〈◊〉〈◊〉 to death, which nere the lesse Are dogd by worser fates, Tobacco can Calcine them soon to dust, the dripping-pan ••ack them to th' dung hill, if they Groc'ry meet They do the office of a winding sheet: How better were it for you to remain (Poore Quires) in ancient raggs, then thus sustain

Such antick forms of tortures, then to lie In sweating Tubs, and thus unpittyed fry, Y' are Common-drudges of the world, if 't chance A Pedant mend his shoes, you must advance To Francforth Mart, and there demurely stand Cloath'd in old sustian raggs, and shake the hand With every greasie Dutchman, who perhaps Puts ye 'ith' selfesame pocket with his scraps; Or if you into some blind Convent fly Y' are inquisition'd straight for heresie, Unlesse your dareing Frontispice can tell News of a Relick, or brave Miracle; Then are you entertaind, and deskt up by Our Ladies Psalter and the Rosary; There to remain, till that their wisdomes please To let you loose among the Novices, But if you light at Court, unlesse you can Audaciously claw some yong Nobleman, Admire the choycest Beauties of the Court, Abuse the country Parson, and make sport, Chalke out set forms of Complements, and tell Which Fashions on which bodyes might do well,

No surer paints my Lady, then you shall Into disgrace irrevocably fall, But if you melt in oyly lines, and swell With amorous deep expressions, and can tell Quaint tales of Lust, and make Antiquity A patron of black Patches, and deny That perrucks are unlawfull, and be saint Old Jesabel for shewing how to paint, Then th' art my Golden book, then maist thou lie Adornd with plush or some embrodery Upon her Ladyships own Couch, where ne're A book that tasts Religion dare appear: Thus must ye wretched shreds comply and bend To every humour, or your constant friend The Stationer will never give you room, Y' are younger brothers welcomest from home, Yet to speak truely 'tis your just deserts To run such various hazards and such thwarts, Suppose ye that the world is peopled now With Cocknies or old women, that allow Canon to every fable; that can soon Perswade themselves the Asse drunk up the Moon,

That Fairies pinch the peccant maids, that pies Do ever love to pick at witches eyes, That mounsieur Tom-thumb on a pins-point lay, That Pictrees feed the Divel nine times a day, Yet such authentick stories do appear In no worse Garb then folio, and still bear No meaner badge then Aristotles name, Or else descent from reverend Plinie claime; One in a humour gives great Homer th' lie, And pleases to annihilate poore Troy; Another scourges Virgil, cause 'tis said His fiction is not in due order laid: This will create a monster, this will raise A ne're found mountain, this will poure out seas, This great Camillus to a reckoning calls For giving so much money to the Gauls, This counts how much the state of Egypt made Of frogs that in the flime of Nilus laid, We'l not disgest these gudgeons, th' world is now At age, if 't do not towards dotage grow, That starch't out beard that sits in th' Porph'ry chaire And but for's crown's light headed, cannot erre,

Barthius has read all books, Jos. Scaliger Proportiond lately the Diameter Unto the circle Galileo's found, Though not drunk, thinking that the earth ran round; Tycho has tumbled down the orbs, and now Fine tenuous aire doth in there places grow; Maurolycus at length has cast it even How many pulses journey 'tis to heaven, A world of such knacks know we, think ye then Sooner to peep out then be kikt from men; Whether ye gallop in light rithmes, or chose Gently to amble in a york-shire prose; Whether ye bring some indigested news From Spanish Surgeons, or Italian stews; Whether ye fiercely raise some false Alarm, And in a rage the Janizaries arm; Whether ye reinforce old times, and con What kind of stuff Adam's first suit was on; Whether Ev's toes had cornes; or whether he Did cut his beard spadwise or like a T: Such brokage as is this will never do 't We must have matter and good words to boot,

And yet how seldome meet they? most our rithmes Rally in tunes but speak no sense like chimes: Grave deep discourses full as ragged be As are their Authours doublets, you'l not see A word creep in, that cannot quickly show A Genealogy to th' ark of Noah, Or at the least pleads not prescription From that great Cradle of Confusion: What Pamphlet is there, where some Arabick Scour's not the coast? from whence you may not pick Some Chinese Character or Mystick spell, Whereon the Criticks for an age may dwell, Where there's some sentence to be understood As hard to find as where old Athens stood: Why do we live, why do our pulses beat? To spend our bravest flames our noblest heat On such poore triflles? to enlarge the day By gloomy lamps, yet for no other prey Then a Moatheaten Radix, or to know The fashion of Deucalion's mothers shooe, It will not quit the cost, that men should spend Themselves, time, money to no other end;

That people should with such a deal of pains Buy knowing nothing, and wisemens disdains: But to prevent this, the more Politick sort Of parents will to handycrafts resort, If they observe their children do produce Some flashings of a mounting genius, Then must they with all diligence invade Some rising calling or some gainfull trade, But if it chance they have one leaden soul Born for to number eggs he must to school, Especiall' if some patron will engage Th' advowson of a neighbouring vicarage; Strange hedly Medly! who would make his swine Turn Grey-hounds, or hunt foxes with his kine? Who would employ his Sadle-nagg to come And hold a trencher in the Dining-roome? Who would engage S^r James that knows not what His Cassock's made of, in affairs of state? Or pluck a Richeleiu from the Helm to try Conclusions to still Children when they cry? Who would employ a Countrey-schoolmaster To Construe to his boyes some new found star?

Poore leaden creatures yet shap'd out to rule, Perpetuall Dictatours in a School, Nor do you want your rods, though onely fed With scraps of Tully and course barly bread; Great threadbare Princes, which like Chess-kings brave No longer then your Maisters give you leave, Whose large dominions in some brew-house lies, Asses commands o're you, you over boyes; Who still possesse the Lodgings next the leads, And cheat your Ladyes of their waiting maids, Who if some lowly carriage do befriend May grace the table at the lower end, Upon condition that ye fairly rise At the first entrance of th' Potato pies, And while his Lordship for discourse doth call You do not let one dram of Latin fall; But tell how bravely your young Master swears Which dogs best like his fancie, and what ears; How much he undervalues learning, and sTakes pleasure in a Sparrow-hauk well mand; How oft he bears his foot-boy, and will dare To gallop when no serving man is near;

How he black berries from the bushes caught When antidoted with a mornings-draught; How rather then he'l construe Greek he'l chose To english Ovids Arte into prose: Such talk is for his Lordships palate, he Takes much delight in such like trumpery, But still remember ye forbear to presse Unseasonably some morall sentences, Take head by all means how rough Seneca Sally into your talk, that man they say Rails against drinking healths, and merits hate As sure as Ornis mockt a Graduate; What a grand ornament our Gentry would Soon loose, if every rug-gown might be bold To rail at such Heroick feats? pray who Could honour's Mistris health, if this did grow Once out of fashion? 'las fine Idols they Ere since poore Cheapside Crosse in rubbidge lay, Ere since the Play-houses did want their prease, And Players lay asleep like Dormouses, Have suffred too too much, be not so sowre With tender beauties they had once some power,

Take that away what do you leave them? what? To Marshall fancies in a youngsters hat. And well so too, since feathers were cashier'd The Ribbands have been to some office reard, Tis hard to meet a Lanspresado, where Some ells of favours do not straight appear Plasterd and dawbed o're and garnished As feathers on a Southern-hacneys head, Which if but ty'd together might at least Trace Alexanders Conquests o're the East, Or stitch't into a web, supply anew With annuary cloakes the wandring Jew, So learnd an age we live in, all are now Turn'd poets, since their heads with fancyes glow, 'Las Poets! yes! O beat me witnesse all Short-winded ballads, or what ere may fall Within the verge of three half quarters, say Produce we not more poems in a day, (By this account) then waves on waves do break Or Countrey Justices false English speak; Suppose dame Julia's Messet thinkes it meet To droop or hold up one of 'ts hinder feet,

What swarms of sonnets rise? how every wit Capers on such an accident, to fit Words to her faireships grief? but if by fate Some long presumptuous s•••••• do boldly grate Don Hugo's dublet ther's a stirre as though Nile should his ancient limits overflow, Or some curst Treason would blow up the state As sure as Gamesters use to lie too late: But if some fortune cogge them into Love, In what a fifteenth sphear then do they move? Not the least tittle of a word is set That is not flanck't with a stout Epithet, What rocks of Diamonds presently arise In the soft Quagmires of two squinting eyes? How teeth Discolour'd and half rotten bee Transformed into Pearl or Ivory? How every word's changd to a finest note? And Jndian gummes are planted in her throat, Speak in good earnest, are they not worse then boyes Of foure year old, to dote on painted toyes? Yet O how frequent! most our Sages shake Off there old furres, and needs will Laurels take,

That it will be no wonder to rehearse The crabdest of Geometry in verse, Or from the dust of knotty Suarez see A strange production of some poetry: But stay too lavish muse, where run you, stay, Take head your tongue bite not your eares away: Besides y' have other businesse, and you might More fitly far with teares then gall endight.

Upon T. R. a very little man but excellently Learned.

MAkes Nature maps? since that in thee Sh' has drawn an University, Or strives she in so small a peece To summe the Arts and Sciences? Once she writ onely Texthand, when She scribled Giants and no men: But now in her decrepit yeares She dashes Dwarfs in Characters, And makes one single farthing bear The Creed, Commandments and Lords-prayer: Would she turn Art and imitate Monte-regio's flying gnat? Would she the Golden Legend shut Within the Cloyster of a nut? Or else a musket bullet rear Into a vast and mighty sphear? Or pen an Eagle in the Caul Of a slender Nightingall?

Or shew she Pigmies can create Not too little but too great? How comes it that she thus Converts So small a totum and great parts? Strives she now to turn awry The quick scent of Philosophie? How, so little matter can So monstrous big a form contain, What shall we call (it would be known) This Gyant and this Dwarf in one? His age is blab'd by silver haires, His limbs still cry out want of years, So small a body in a Cage May choose a spatious Hermitage, So great a Soul doth fret and fume At th' narrow world for want of room, Strange Conjunction! here is grown A Molehill and the Alpes in one, In th' self same action we may call Nature both thrift and Prodigall.

A Sea Dialogue.

Palurus.

MY Antinetta though thou be More white, then fome wherewith a wave Broke in his wrath besmears the sea; Yet art thou harder then this cave.

Antinetta.

Though thou be fairer then the light, Which doubting Pilots onely mind That they may steere there course aright, Yet art thou lighter then the wind:

Palurus.

And shall I not be chang'd? when thou Hast fraught Medorus with thy heart, And as a-long the sands we go To gather shells, do's take his part?

Antinetta.

What shall not I congeal to see Doris the Ballast of thine arms? (Which have so oft encompass'd me) Now pinion'd by her faithlesse charms;

Palurus.

What if I henceforth shall disdain The golden tressed Doris love? And Antinetta serve again, And in that service constant prove?

Antinetta.

Though mighty Neptune cannot stand Before Medorus, and thou be Restlesse as whirle-pool's, false as sand; Yet will I live and die with thee,

Palurus.

Nay live, and lest one single death Should wrack thee, take this life of mine,

Antinetta.

Thou but exchanged with that breath, Thy Antinetta's soul for thine.

Chorus.

How powerfull 's love! which like a flame That sever'd, reunites more close! Or like a broken limb in frame That ever after firmer grows.

Upon the Kings Great Porter.

SIr, or great Grandsire, whose Vast bulk may be A burying place for all your Pedegree: Thou moving Colosse, for whose goodly face The Rhyne can hardly make a Looking-glasse; What piles of victualls had thou need to chew, Ten Woods or Marrets throats were not enew: Dwarf was he whose wifes bracelet fit his thumb, It would not on thy little finger came: If Jove in getting Hercules spent three Nights, he might spend fifteen in getting thee: What name or title suits thy greatnesse, Thou, Aldiboronifuscophonio? When Gyants warr'd with Jove hadst thou been one, Where others oaks, thou wouldst have mountains thrown; Wer'st thou but sick what help could ere be wrought, Unlesse Physicians posted down thy throat; Were thou to die and Xerxes living, hee Would not pare Athos for to cover thee; Were thou t' embalme the Surgeons needs must scale Thy body, as when Labourers dig a whale:

Great Sir, a people kneaded up in one, Wee'l weigh thee by Ship-burdens not by th' stone; What tempests mightst thou raise, what whirle-winds, when Thou breaths, thou great Leviathan of men: Bend but thine eye, a Countreyman would swear A Regiment of Spaniards quartered there: Smooth but thy brow they 'l say there were a plain T' act York and Lancaster once o're again! That pocket Pistoll of the Queens might be Thy pocket Pistoll, sans Hyperbole; Abstain from Garrisons, since thou may eat The Turks or Mogulls tit•••••• at a bit: Plant some new Land, which ne're will empty be If she enjoy her Savages in thee: Get from amongst us since we onely can Appear like skulls marcht o're by Tamberlane.

A Burning-glasse.

STrange Chimistry! can dust and sand produce So pure a body and Diaphanous; Strange kind of Courtship! that the amorous Sun T' imbrace a Min'rall twists his rayes in one, Talk of the heav'ns mockt by a sphear, alas The Sun it self 's here in a piece of glasse: Let Magnets drag base iron, this alone Can to her icie bosome winne the Sun; Witches may cheat us of his light a while, But this can him even of himself beguile: In Heaven he staggers to both Tropicks, here He keeps fixt residence all times of th' year, Here 's a perpetuall Solstice, here he lies Not on a bed of water but of ice; How well by this himself abridge, he might Redeem the Scythians from their lingring night? Well by this glassie proxey might he roule Beyond th' Ecliptick, and warm either pole; Had but Prometheus bin so wise, h' had ne're Scal'd heaven to light his torch, but lighted here;

Had Archimedes once but known this use H' had burnt Marcellus from proud Syracuse; Had Vesta's maids of honour this but seen, Their Ladys fire had ne're extinguisht been; Hells Engines might have finisht their designe Of powder (but that heav'n did Countermine) Had they but thought of this; th' Egyptians may Well hatch their eggs without the midwife clay; Why do not puling Lovers this devise For a fit Emblem of their Mistres eyes? They call them Diamonds, and say th' have been Reduc'd by them to ashes all within; But they'l assum't, and ever hence 'twill passe A Mistris eye is but Loves Burning-glasse.

The Call.

Romira, stay, And run not thus like a young Roe away, No enemie Pursues thee (foolish girle) tis onely I, I'le keep off harms, If thou'l be pleas'd to garrison mine arms; What dost thou fear I'le turn a Traitour? may these Roses here To palenesse shred, And Lilies stand disguised in new Red, If that I lay A snare, wherein thou wouldst not gladly stay; See fee the Sunne Does slowly to his azure Lodging run, Come sit but here And presently hee'l quit our Hempisphere, So still among Lovers, time is too short or else too long; Here will we spin

Legends for them that have Love Martyrs been, Here on this plain Wee'l talk Narcissus to a flour again; Come here, and chose On which of these proud plats thou would repose, Here maist thou shame The rusty Violets, with the Crimson flame Of either cheek, And Primroses white as thy fingers seek, Nay, thou maist prove That mans most Noble Passion is to Love.

An Eunuch.

THou Newter Gender! whom a gown Can make a woman, Breeches none: Created one thing, made another, Not a Sister, scarce a Brother: Jack of both sides, that may beare Or a distaff or a spear, If thy fortunes thither call,

Be the Gran Signor's generall, Or if thou fancie not that trade, Turn th' Sultana's Chamber-maid; A Medall where grim Mars turnd right Proves a smiling Aphrodite; How doth Nature quible either He, or she, Boy, Girle, or neither; Thou may serve great Jove in stead Of Hebe both and Ganymed, A face both stern and mild, checkes bare That still do onely promise haire, Old Cybele the first in all This humane predicamentall Scale, Why would she choose her Priests to be Such Individuums as ye? Such Insecta's, added on To Creatures by substraction, In whom Nature claims no part, Ye onely being words of Art.

The Lure.

1

FArewell, nay prethee turn again, Rather then loose thee, I'le arraigne My self before thee, thou (most fair) shall be Thy self the Judge, I'le never grudge A law ordain'd by thee.

2

Pray do but see, how every Rose A sanguine visage doth disclose, O see what Aromatick gusts they breath, Come here, we'le sit And learn to knit Them up into a wreath.

3

With that wreath Crowned shalt thou be, Not grac't by it, but it by thee, Then shall the fawning Zephirs wait to heare What thou shalt say, And softly play, While new's to me they beare.

4

See how they revelling appear Within the windings of thy hair, See how they steal the choycest odors from The balmy spring, That they may bring Them to thee, when they come.

5

Look how the Daffidills arise Cheer'd by the influence of thine eyes, And others emulating them deny They cannot strain To bloom again, Where such strong beams do fly.

6

Be not ungratefull, but lie down Since for thy sake so brisk they're grown, And such a Downy carpet have bespred, That pure delight Is freshly dight And trickt in white and red.

7

Be Conquerd by such charms there shall Not alwayes such enticements fall, What know we whether that rich spring of light Will stanch his streams Of Golden beams, Ere the approach of Night.

8

How know we whether't shall not be The last to either thee or me, He can at will his ancient brightnesse gain, But thou and I When we shall die Shall still in dust remain,

9

Come prethee come wee'l now essay To piece the scantnesse of the day, Wee'l pluck the wheels from th' Chariot of the sun That he may give Us time to live Till that our scene be done;

10

W' are in the blossome of our age, Let us dance o're, not tread the stage, Though fear and sorrow strive to pull us back, And still present Doubts of content, They shall not make us slack:

11

Wee'l suffer viperous thoughts and cares To follow after silver hairs, Let's not anticipate them long before, When they begin To enter in Each Minute they'l grow more,

12

No, no, Romira see this brook How 't would its posting course revoke Ere it shall in the Ocean mingled lie, And what I pray May cause this stay? But to attest our joy;

13

Far be't from lust, such wildfire ne're Shall dare to lurk or kindle here, Diviner flames shall in our fanties ••oule, Which not depresse To earthlinesse, But elevate the Soul.

14

Then shall aggrandia'd love confesse That souls can mingle substances, That hearts can eas'ly counter-changed be, Or at the least Can alter breasts, When breasts themselves agree.

The Morning-star.

STill Herald of the morn, whose ray Being Page, and Usher to the day, Doth mourn behind the Sun, before him play; Who sets a golden Signall, e're The bat retire, the lark appear, The early Cocks cry comfort, Scrich Oules fear. Who winkst while Lovers plight their troth, Then falls asleep, while they are loth To part without a more ingaging Oath: Steal in a Message to the eyes Of Julia, tell her that she lies Too long, thy Lord the Sun will quickly rise. Yet is it midnight still with me, Nay worse, unlesse that kinder she ••mile Day, and in my Zenith seated be. But if she will Obliquely runne, I needs a Calenture must shunne, And like an Ethiopian hate my Sunne.

Platonick love.

COme (Dearest Julia) thou and I Will knit us in so strickt a tie, As shall with greater pow'r engage Then feeble charms of marriage; We will be friends, our thoughts shall go▪ Without impeachment, too and fro, The same desires shall elevate Our mingled souls, the self-same hate Shall cause Aversion, we will beare One Sympathising hope and fear, And for to move more close, wee'l frame Our triumphs and our teares the same; Yet will we ne're so grossely dare As our ignobler selves shall share, Let men desire, like those above Unmatter'd forms, wee'l onely love; And teach the ruder world to shame When heat encreaseth to a flame: Love's like a landskap which doth stand Smooth at a distance, rough at hand; Or like a fire which from afarre Doth gently warm, consumes when near.

To the Deformed X. R.

AS Scriveners sometime delight to see Their basest writing, Nature has in thee Essai'd how much she can transgresse at once Apelles draughts, Durers proportions; And for to make a jest and try a wit Has not (a woman) in thy forehead writ, But scribl'd so, and gon so far about Indagine would never smell the out, But might exclaim, here onely riddles be And Heteroclites in Physiognomie; But as the Mystick Hebrew backward lies, And Algebra's gest by absurdities, So must we spell thee, for who would suppose That globous piece of wanescot were a nose, That crockt &c's were wrinkles, and Five Napers bones glued to a wrest, an hand; Egyptian Antiquaries might survay Here Hieroglyphicks time hath worn away, And wonder at an English face more od And antick, then was ere a Memphian God,

Eras'd with more strange letters then might scare A raw and unexperienc'd Conjurer, And tawny Africk blush to see her fry Of Monsters in one skin so kenneled lie: Thou maist without a guard her deserts passe When savages but look upon thy face. Were but some Pict now living, he would soon Deem thee a fragment of his Nation; And wiser Ethiopians infer From thee, that sable's not the onely fair; Thou Privative of Beauty, whose one eye Doth question Metaphysick veritie; Whose many crosse aspects may prove anon Foulnesse, more then a mere negation, Blast one place still, and never dare t'escape Abroad out of thy mother darknesse lap, Least that thou make the world affraid, and be Even hated by thy nurse deformity.

Julia weeping.

I

FAirest, when thine eyes did poure A Christall shower, I was perswaded that some stone Had liquid grown; And thus amazed, sure thought I When stones are moist some rain is nigh.

2

Why weep'st thou? cause thou cannot be More hard to mee? So Lionesses pitty, so Do Tygres too: So doth that Bird, which when she's fed On all the man, pines or'e the Head.

3

Yet I'le make better Omens till Event beguile, Those pearly droppes in time shall be A precious sea; And thou shall like thy Corall prove, Soft under water, hard above.

To my honoured Noble friend THOMAS STANLEY Esquire, on his Poems.

WHo would commend thee (friend!) & thinks 't may be Performed by a faint Hyperbole Might also call thee but a man, or dare To praise thy Mistris with the term of Faire. But I, the choisest of whose knowledge is My knowing thee, cannot so grossely misse. Since thou art set so high, no words can give An equall character, but negative. Substract the earth, and basenesse of this age, Admit no wildfire in Poetick rage, Cast out of learning whatsoever 's vain, Let Ignorance no more haunt Noblemen, Nor humour Travellers, Let wits be free From over-weening, and the rest is Thee.

Thee noble soul! whose early flights are farre Sublimer then old Eagles soarings are, Who light'st Love's dying Torch with purer fire, And breath'st new life into the Teian Lyre, That Lov's best Secretaries that are past, Liv'd they, might learn to love, and yet be chast. Nay, Vestalls might as well such sonnets hear,

As keep their Vows and thy Black Riband wear; So chast is all, that though in each line lie More Amorettoe's then in Doris eye; Yet so they're charm'd, that look'd upon they prove Harmlesse as Chariessa's nightly love: So powerfull is that tongue, that hand, that can Make soft Jonickes turn grave Lydian; How oft this heavy leaden Saturnine And never elevated soul of mine, Hath been pluck'd up by thee? and forc'd away Enlarged from her still adhering clay! How every line still pleas'd, when that was o're I canceld it, and prais'd the other more! That if thou writ'st but on, my thoughts shall be Almost engulf'd in an infinity.

But dearest friend, what law's power ever gave To make ones own free firstborn babe his slave, Nay Manumise it, for what else wilt be To strangle, but deny it liberty. Once lend the World a day of thine, and fright The trembling still-born children of the night. That at the last, we undeceiv'd may see Theirs were but Fancies, thine is Poetrey.

Sweet Swan of silver Thames! but onely she Sings not till death, thou in thy Infancy.

To M^r. S. S.

AS he obtaines such an enchanted skin That Bullets cast aright could ne're get in, Even so thou Monsieur temperd hast thy name That to dispraise the most is yet no shame; To curse is to befriend, who like a Jew Art both a Vagabond and mony'd too; Who feed'st on Hebrew rootes, and like a tare Unbid, unwelcome thrivest every where; Who mak'st all letters be thy Gutturall, And brings the Conjugations to Kall; Who though thou live by Grammer-rules, we see Thou break'st all Canons of Moralitie; And as far as that thread-bare Cloke of thine Is out of Fashion, do'st from man decline; And com'st as near a wit, as doth a Rat Match in procerity Mount Ararat; And art as fit to be a brewers Punck, As Sumerburn is valiant when hee's drunk.

The Christall

THis Christall here That shines so clear, And carri's in its womb a little day; Once hammerd will appear Impure as dust, as dark as clay.

Even such will prove Thy face (my love!) When age shall soyl the lustre of thine ey's, And all that Red remove That on thy spicy lip now ly's;

Nor can a hand Again command, By any art, these ruins into frame, But they will severd stand And ne're compose the former same:

Such is the case (Love!) of thy face, Both desperate, in this you disagree, Thy beauty needs must passe, It (of it self) will constant be.

A Rapture.

COme Julia, come! let's once disbody, what, Strait matter ties to this and not to that, Wee'l disingage, our bloodlesse form shall fly Beyond the reach of Earth, where ne're an eye That peeps through Spectacles of flesh, shall know Where we intend, or what we mean to do; From all Contagion of the fl••sh remov'd Wee'l sit in Judgement, on those Paires that lov'd In old and latter times, then will we tear Their Chaplets that did act by slavish fear, Who cherisht causelesse griefs, and did deny Cupids prerogative by doubt or sigh; But they that mov'd by confidence, and clos'd In one refining flame, and never los'd Their thoughts on Earth, but bravely did aspire Unto their proper Element of fier, To these wee'l judge that happinesse to be The witnesses of our felicitie. Thus wee'l like Angels move, nor will we bind In words the copious Language of our mind,

Such as we know not to conceive, much lesse Without destroying in their birth, expresse: Thus will we live and ('t may be) cast an eye How far Elisium doth beneath us lie, What need we care though milkie Currents run Among the silken meadows, though the Sun Doth still preserve by's ever waking ray A never discontinued spring or day. That Sun, though all his heat be to it brought Cannot exhale the vapour of a thought.

No no my Goddesse, yet will thou and I Devested of all flesh so folded lie, That ne're a body'd nothing shall perceive How we unite, how we together cleave; Nor think this while our featherd minutes may Fall under measure, time it self can stay T' attend on pleasures, for what else would be But tedious Durance in Eternitie.

To M^r. Stanley after his return from France.

BEwitched Senses do you lie And cast some shadow o're mine eye, Or do I noble Stanley see, What! may I trust you, is it he? Confesse and yet be graduall, Lest suddain joy so heavy fall Upon my soul, and sink unto A deeper Agony of woe: Tis he, tis he, we are no more A barb'rous Nation, he brought o're As much Humanity, as may Well Civilize America; More Learning then might Athens raise To Glory in her proudest dayes. With reason might the boyling main Be calm, and hoary Neptune chain Those winds that might disturbers be Whiles our Apollo was at sea; And made her for all knowledge stand

In competition with the land: Had but the curteous Delphins heard One note of his, they would have dar'd To quit the waters, to enjoy In banishment such melody; And had the Mimick Proteus known H' had left his ugly herd, and grown A curious Siren, to betray This Ulysses to some stay; But juster fates denied, nor would Another Land that Genius hold. As could, beyond all wonder hurld, Fathom the Intellectuall world: But whither runne I, I intend To welcome onely, not commend; But that thy virtues render it No private, but a Publick debt.

An Epicurean Ode

SInce that this thing we call the world By chance on Atomes is begot, Which though in dayly motions hurld, Yet weary not, How doth it prove Thou art so fair and I in Love?

Since that the soul doth onely lie Immers'd in matter, chaind in sense, How ran Romira thou and I With both dispence? And thus ascend In higher flights then wings can lend.

Since man's but pasted up of Earth, And ne're was cradled in the skies, What Terra Lemnia gave thee birth? What Diamond eyes? Or thou alone To tell what others were, came down?

On M. W. the great eater.

SIr much good do't ye; were your table but Pie-crust or cheese, you might your stomack sh•• After your slice of beef, what dare you try Your force on an Ell-square of pudding-pie? Perhaps 't may be a tast, three such as you Unbreakfasted might sterve Seraglio: When Hanniball scal'd th' Alpes, hadst thou been there Thy beef had drunk up all his Vineger: Well mightst thou be of guard to Henry th' eight, Since thou canst like a pigeon eat thy weight: Full wise was nature that would not bestow These Tusks of thine into a double row; What womb could ere contain thee, thou canst shut A pond or Aviary in a Gut. Had not thy mother born thee toothlesse, thou Hadst eaten Viper-like a passage through; Had he that wish'd the Cranes long neck to eat, Put in thy stomack too 't had been compleat. Thou Noah's Ark, dead sea, thou Golgotha, Monster, beyond all them of Africa!

Beasts prey on beasts, fisher to fishes fall, Great birds feed on the lesser, thou on all: Hath there been no mistake, why may 't not be When Curtius leap't the Gulf, 'twas into thee. Now wee'l believe that man of Chica could Make pills of arrows, and the Boy that would Chew onely stones, nor can we think it vain That Boranetho eat up th' neighbouring plain. Poore Erisicthon, that could onely feast On one poore Girle in severall dishes drest, Thou hast devour'd as many sheep, as may Cloath all the pasture in Arcadia. Yet O how temperate, that ne're goes on So farre as to approach repletion! Thou breathing Cauldron, whose digestive heat Might boyl the whole provision of the Fleet! Say grace as long as meales, and if thou please, Break fast with Ilands and drink healths with seas.

The Antipathy A Pastorall

Tetricezza

SOoner the olive shall provoke To amorous clasp's this sturdy oke, And doves in league with eagles be, Ere I will glance a smile on thee.

Amelius

Sooner, yond dustish mulberry In her old white shall cloathed be, And lizards with fierce asps combine, Ere I will twist my soul with thine.

Tetricezza

Yet art thou in my judgement farre Fairer then a rising starre, And might deserve even Dian's love But shalt not Tetricezza move.

Amelius

And thou art sweeter then the doun Of damast-roses yet unblown, And Phoebus might thy bridegroom be, Yet shalt thou never conquer me,

Tetricezza

Why meet we then, when either's mind Or com's compelled, or stay's behind?

Amelius

Just as two boughs together tyed Let loose again do stand more wide.

Song.

DIstill not poyson in mine eares Aereall Sirens! nor unty These sable fetters, yonder sphears Dance to a silent Harmony.

Could I but follow where you lead Dis-robed of Earth and plum'd by Air, Then I my Tenuous self might spread, As quick as Fancie every-where.

But Ile make sallies now and then, Thus can my unconfined eye Take journey and return again. Yet on her Christall couch still lie.

Home Travell.

VVHat need I travell, since I may More choiser wonders here survay? What need I Tire for purple seek When I may find it in a cheek? Or sack the Eastern shores, there lies More precious Diamonds in her eyes? What need I dig Peru for Oare When every hair of her yields more? Or toile for Gummes in India Since she can breath more rich then they? Or ranfack Africk, there will be On either hand more Ivory? But look within, all Vertues that Each nation would appropriate, And with the glory of them rest, Are in this map at large exprest; That who would travell here might know The little world in Folio.

Upon Samuel Ward D. D. the Lady Margarets Professour in Cambridge.

WEre't not piacular to weep for thee The world might put on mourning, and yet be Below just grief, stupendous Man who told By just endowments that she grew not old. But thine own hands have rais'd a monument Farre greater then thy self, which shall be spent When error conquers truth, and time shall be No more, but swallow'd by Eternitie; But when shall sullen darknesse fly away, And thine own ••ct••••e Brownrigge give it day. Or when shall ravish'd Europe understand, How much she lost by thee, and by it gaind; How well thou guardedst truth, how swift to close With whatsoever Champion durst oppose; Bear witnesse Dort, when Error could produce The strength of reason and Arminius. How did he loose their knots, how break their snares, How meet their minings, how pluck up their cares.

How did his calmer voice speake thunder? how His soft affections holy fury growe? That had but Hell and Tyrants any roome, There wanted nothing of a Martyrdome; But Providence said no, and did consent That oyle of time should not be spilt, but spent, Nay, as the greatest flame doth ever fly From failing Lamps, should'st in most glory die; And as the Phenix when she doth prepare To be her own both murderer and heire, Makes richest spice her tombe and cradle be, To quit and reassume mortality, Even so thou (Seraph) spent thy minutes all, In preparation for thy funerall, And rais'd so great a pile, death could aspire No greater honour hen to put to fire: That thus the flame might lend us light below, But the sweet breathing smoake still upward goe.

To the precious Memory of Master William Fenner.

HOw brittle's wretched man? no sooner death Scales up his eyes, and stops his panting breath, But th' hungry grave devours him, and he must Returne againe unto his mother dust; So fraile a thing he is, so doth he passe, That nothing can Remaine but that he was. But thou (Triumphant Soule) art elevate By thy vast merits 'bove the common fate; Those sacred pearles thy selfe dig'd from among Thy fiery thoughts, and polish't with thy tongue, By thee a second life, that times to come May say that Rochford had a Chrysostome, Whose Life told out in Minutes, seem'd to be Nothing but one continued Homilie, So even was thy Conscience, such a flame Rais'd thy affections, that thou soone became Too good for Earth; so waking was thy brest, That Night could never grant a truce to Rest,

But now thou Rests for ever drunke with joyes That never spend, yet ever new arise. Yet let thy Name still breath new odors, and 'Mong those Angelik Spirits numbred stand, While we below stand gazing up and see Th'hast chang'd thy Room, but not thy Company.

On a Gentleman and his Wife, who dyed both within a very few dayes.

THrice happy Paire, who had and have Living one Bed, now dead one Grave: Whose love being equall, neither could A life unequall wish to hold, But left a Question whether one Did follow 'cause her Mate was gone, Or th'other went before to stay Till that his fellow came away, So that one pious teare now must Besprinkle either Parents dust, And two great sorrowes joyntly Runne And close into a larger one, Or rather turne to joy, to see The Buriall but the Wedding be.

Of Beauty.

WHat doe I here, what's Beauty? lasse How doth it passe? As flowers assoone as smelled at Evaporate, Even so this shaddow, ere our eyes Can view it, flies.

2

What's colour? 'lasse the sullen Night Can it affright; A Rose can more Vermilion speake, Then any cheeke; A richer white on Lillies stands, Then any hands.

3

Then what's that worth, when any Flower Is worth far more? How constant's that which needs must die When day doth fly? Glow-wormes can lend some petty light, To gloomy night.

4

And what's proportion? wee descry That in a flie; And what's a lip? tis in the test, Red clay at best. And what's an Eye? an Eaglets are More strong by farre.

5

Who can that specious nothing heed, Which flies exceed? Who would his frequent kisses lay On painted clay? Wh'ould not if eyes affection move Young Eaglets love?

6

Is Beauty thus? then who would lie Love-sicke and die? And's wretched selfe annihilate For knowes not what? And with such sweat and care invade A very shade?

7

Even he that knowes not to possesse True Happinesse, But has some strong desires to try What's misery, And longs for teares, oh He will prove One fit for Love.

The Epitome.

As in a cave Where darkenesse justies out the day, But yet doth give Some small admission to one feeble ray, Some of all species doe distinctly play.

2

Just even thou Whom wonder hath not fully cleer'd, Thy selfe dost shew, That in thy little Chaos all's enspheard, And though abridg'd, yet in full greatnesse rear'd.

Armilla nigra.

ATrati Proceres, quos ram divina coercet Copula, caeruleo nunc exaequata Georg I Garterio, atque olim longe anteferenda, nec ulla Interitura die, si quid praesagia vatum, Si quid mollis amor valet, o dignissima Coelo Pectora, sic vestris faelicia facta Ruinis, Et flammis majora, novo succrescite honori, Et durate diu, donec sese ultimus optet Censeri numero Scytha, & ambitiosior Indus Gestiat armilla vestra fulgere, relictis Torquibus, & tenerae vultu constante puellae Militiam subeant talem, cupiantque teneri His manicis, & virgineas dediscere flammas, Vestalique cadat Reverentia debita vittae.

At tu, Sol juvenum, soli cessure Maroni Propter mille annos, vatum decus, ardue cunctae Inscitiae Domitor, quem felix Anglia jactat Et Galli stupuere, tuis en talia surgunt Auspiciis, Tu tam grandis praeludia facti Ordiris, tantasque jubes viviscere curas,

Hinc summus tibi surgit honos, hinc gloria quae non Aut cadet, aut vult temporibus metirier ullis, At cum se fragilis mundi ruitura resolvet Machina, & armillis faelicia brachia deerunt, Ipsa polo sese infinuet, candentibus astris Accedens nova flamma, altae vicina Coronae.

To Mr. Stanley.

STarres in their rising little show, And send forth trembling flames; but thou At first appearance dost display A bright and unobscured day: Such as shall feare no night, nor shall Thy setting be Heliacall, But grow up to a Sun and take A Lawrell for thy Zodiac; That all which henceforth shall arise, May onely be thy Parely's.

On Doctor. Bambrigg, Mr. of Christs.

WEre but this Marble vocall, there Such an Elogium would appeare As might, though truth did dictate, move Distrust in either Faith or Love; As ample knowledge as could rest Inshrined in a mortals brest, Which ne'rethelesse did open lie, Uncovered by humility, A heart which piety had chose, To be her Altar, whence arose Such smoaking Sacrifices, that We here can onely wonder at; A honey tongue that could dispence, Torrents of sacred eloquence, And yet how far inferiour stand Unto a learned curious hand? That 'tis no wonder if this stone Because it cannot speake, doth groane; For could mortality assent, These ashes might prove eloquent. 〈1 page missing〉〈1 page missing〉

Upon Mr. Robert Wiseman, Son to Sir Richard Wiseman, Essex.

BUt that we weigh our happinesse by thine We could not (precious Soule) from teares decline, Although the Muses Silver streame would be Too poore by farre to drop an Elegie; But thats below thee, since thy vertues are The spices that Embalme thee, thou art farre More Richly laid, and shalt more long remaine Still mummifi'd within the hearts of men, Then if to list thee in the Rolls of Fame Each marble spoke thy shape, all brasse thy name. Sleepe sacred ashes that did once containe This Jewell, and shalt once, and e're, againe Sleep undisturb'd; envy can only raise Her selfe at living, hate graspe lower preyes; We'le not defioure you, let us only prye What Treasures in ye did involved lie, So young, so learned and so wise, O here's Example, Wisdom's not the Childe of yeares.

So rich and yet so pious! O tis well Devotion is not coffin'd in a Cell, Nor choak'd by wealth; wealth hated harmelesse proves, And only knowes to mischiefe him that loves. So faire and yet so chaste! Lust is not ever Youths constant Sorcresse, but doth sometime sever To looke on morall vertues; there'le appeare The Courtier twisted with th' Philosopher: Nor were they on spruce Apothegmes spent Begot twixt Idlenesse and Discontent, But acted to the life and unconstrain'd, The Sisters sweetly walking hand in hand, And so entirely twisted that alone None could be view'd, all were together one; As twinckling Spangles that together lie, Joyne forces and make up one Galaxie; As various Gums dissolving in one fire Together in one fragrant fume expire. Sleep then triumphant Soule, thy funeralls For admiration and not mourning calls.

Johanni Arrowsmythio, Coll. S^ti. Joh. Praefecto.

DIvina Syren, c••gne caelestis, tuba Evangelizans, Nectaris flumen meri, Jubar salutis, praeco faederis novi, Jam sic redîsti! teque in amplexus pios Iterum dedisti! murmure ut vario fremit Togata pubes, gaudia exprimens nova, Quod patre tanto jam beatur, quod nutric Sol tam refulgens, & coquit messes suas. Sic saepe redeas, te licet retrahant tuae Lac gestientes uberis mamillae oves, Et te Senatus flagitet, cujus cluit Pars magna; nostros sed fovere palmites Desiste nunquam, vinitor dignissime, Donec racemis pullulent usquam novis; Duc hos tenellos in scientiae abdita, Et esto morum dulcium felix faber.

To his Tutor, Master Pawson. An Ode.

1

Come come away, And snatch me from these shades to purer day, Though Nature lie Reserv'd, she cannot scape thy peircing eye. I'le in her bosome stand, Led by thy cunning hand, And plainely see Her Treasurie; Though all my light be but a glimpse of thine, Yet with that light, I will o'relooke Her hardly open'd Booke, Which to a read is easie, to understand divine.

2

Come let us run And give the world a girdle with the Sun, For so we shall Take a full view of this enamel'd ball,

Both where it may be seen Clad in a constant green, And where it lies Crusted with Ice, Wher't swells with Mountaines, and shrinkes downe to Vales, Where it permits the usurping Sea To rove with liberty, And where it pants with drouth, and of all liquor failes.

3

And as we goe, Wee'l minde these atoms that crawle too and fro, There may we see One both be Souldier and Artillery, Another whose defence Is onely innocence, One swift as winde Or flying Hinde, Another slow as is a mounting stone; Some that love Earth, some scorne to dwell Vpon't, but seem to tell Those that deny there is a Heaven they know of one.

4

Nor all this while Shall there escape us ere a braving pile, Nor ruine that Wasts what it has to tell its former state. Yet shall we ne're discry Where bounds of Kingdomes lie, But see them gone As flights new flowne, And loose themselves in their owne breadth, just as Circlings upon the water, one Growes great to be undone, Or as lines in the sand which as they're drawn do passe.

5

But objects here Cloy in the very taste. O let us teare A passage through That fleeting vault above; there may we know Some rosie Brethren stray To a set Battalia, 〈1 page missing〉〈1 page missing〉

And others scout Still round about, Fix't in their courses, and uncertaine too; But clammy matter doth deny A cleere discovery, Which those that are inhabitants may solely know.

6

Then let's away And journey thither, what should cause our stay? Wee'l not be hur'ld Asleep by drowfie potions of the world. Let not wealth tutor out Our spirits with her gout, Nor anger pull With cramps the Soule; But fairely disingag'd wee'l upward flie, Till that occurring joy affright Even with it's very weight, And point the haven where we may securely lie.

To an Old Wife talking to him.

PEace Beldam ugly, thou'lt not finde M' ears bottles for enchanted wind, That breath of thine can onely raise New stormes and discompose the Seas, It may (assisted by thy clatter) A Pigmaean army scatter, Or move without the smallest streame, Loretto's Chappell once againe, And blow St. Goodrick while he prayes And knowes not what it is he saies, And helpes false Latin with a hem From Finckly to Jerusalem, Or in th' Pacifique Sea supply The winde that Nature doth deny. What dost thou thinke I can retaine All this and sprout it out againe? As a surcharged Whale doth spew Old Rivers to receive in new, Thou art deceiv'd, even Aeol's Cave That can all other blasts receive,

Would be too small to let in thine: How then the narrow eares of mine? Defect of Organs may me cause By chance to pillorize an Asse: Yet should I shake his eares, they'd be Though long, too streight to hearken thee. Yet if thou hast a mind to heare How high thy voices merits are, Attend the Cham, and when h'as din'd Skreek Princes leave that have a minde, Or serve the States, thou'lt usefull come And have the pay of every drum, Or trudge to Ʋtreckt, there outrun Dame Skurmans score of tongues, with one. But pray be still, O now I feare There may be Torments for the eare, O let me when I chance to die In Vulcans Anvile buried lie, Rather then heare thy tongue once knell, That Tom a Lincolne and Bow-bell.

The Recantation.

NOw sound I a retreat, now I'le no more Run all those devious pathes I ran before, I will no more range sullen groves, to lie Entombed in a shade, nor basely flie The deare society of light, to give My Thoughts their birth in darkenesse, I'le not live Such deaths againe, such dampy mists no more Shall dare to draw an ugly skreen before My clearer fancy: I'le not deifie A failing beauty, Idolize an eye. Farewell, farewell poore joyes, let not my hearse Beare witnesse I was ever mad in verse, Or plaid the foole in wit; no, I'le not have Such Theams encrease the mourning at my graven. Such thoughts I loath, and cannot now resent, Who ever gloried in his excrement? Now I will raze those Characters I wrote So fairely from my selfe, now will I not Suffer that Pyramid love rais'd within My soule, to stand the witnesse of her sinne.

Nor will I ravish nature to dispose A violated and profaned Rose, Vpon a varnisht cheeke, nor Lillies feare Into a Iandise, to be set where nere White was discover'd; no,—stay I'le no more Adde new guilt to the old repented for, To name a sinn's to sinne; nor dare to breake Jests of my vices on anothers backe, But with some searching humours festred lie A Renegado to all Poetry. And must we now shake hands deare madnesse, now After so long acquaintance? did I vow To sacrifice unto thee what was brought, As surplusage of a severer thought, And breake my word? yes, from this very day My fancy only shall on Marchpan play; Now I'le turne Polititian, and see How usefull Onions are in Drapery, Feast dunces that miscall the Arts, and dance With all the World a Galliard Ignorance.

FINIS.