Poems written by the Right Honorable William earl of Pembroke, lord steward of his Majesties houshold. Whereof many of which are answered by way of repartee, by Sr Benjamin Ruddier, knight. With several distinct poems, written by them occasionally, and apart.

The EPICURES Paradox.

NO, worldling, no; 'tis not thy Gold, Which thou dost use but to behold; Nor Fortune, Honor, nor long Lise, Nor large Possession, without strife, That makes thee happy, these things be But shadows of felicity. Give me a Virgin of Fifteen, Already voted to the Queen Of Lust and Lovers, whose soft Hair Fann'd with the breath of gentle Air, O▪respreads her shoulders like a Tent, And is her Veil and Ornament, whose tender touch would make the blood Wyld in the Aged, and the Good; Whose Kisses fastned to the mouth Of threescore years, and longer sloath, Renews the Age, and whose bright eye, Obscures those lesser lights of Skye; Whose snowy Breasts (if we may call That Snow which never melts at all) Make Jove invent a new disguise, In spight of Juno's Jealousies; Whose every part doth re-invite The old decayed Appetite; And in whose sweet embraces I Might melt my self to lust, and dye. This is true belief, and I confess There is no other happiness.