Poëms, by Henry Glapthorn

POËMS , BY HENRY GLAPTHORN .

Sustineamque Comam metuentem frigora Myrtum , Atque ita sollicito multus Amante legar .

LONDON , Printed by Richard Bishop , for Daniel Pakeman ; and are to be sold at his Shop , at the Rain-bow , neer the Inner Temple Gate . 1639.

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE , IEROME , Earle of PORTLAND . My Lord ,

DEdications , from some Writers are meere Customes ; from others Complements ; but from mee neither : my Muse being yet too young to be authorized by Custome , to intrude upon a Patron , ( this being the earliest flight of her ambition : ) and my Reason too old to suffer mee to be guilty of Complement to one so furnished with all Reality and Worth as is your Lordship . My motive , Sir , to this audacious errour is only the pretence of my respective dutie ; and for that cause , will ( I hope ) merit an indulgent pardon . What you shall here find set down , were the Maiden-Studies of a Muse , which aspires to no other Fame than your allowance : nor can my selfe atchieve a greater quiet to my soule , nor ayme a higher glorie , than to see my selfe by your free acceptance of this triviall Sacrifice rank'd amongst

The humblest honourers of your Name and Family : HENRY GLAPTHORNE .

Vpon the Duke of York his Birth-night at Richmond . To the PRINCE , and the rest of his MAIESTIES Children . BLessings surround this Presence : To begin Our votes to You without a praier , were sin 'Gainst our religious loyalty : could our care And zeal transform our very souls to praier ; 'T were a just tribute due to You , who are . The best of Princes ; each of You a Starre That gilds our Brittish Orb with rayes more bright Than was in Paradise the worlds first light . Hark! whence this suddain harmony ! the Spheares Strive to divulge their duties ; there appeares A generall joy in Heav'n ; this night has hurld , In stead of darknesse , gladnesse ore the world ; Has calm'd the sea , on which the Tritons play , And Syrens sing , for joy ; not to betray . But why this triumph ? 'T was because this night , Sweet Prince , Your Birth did beautifie the light ; Adjudge a second Columne to sustaine The glorious building of your Fathers raigne , To be our second Hope , the cause that we Doe pay our vowes to this Solemnitie , In wishes , which a Mother might befit , Or a full Lover in his zeal of wit . May all Your lives be one continued Youth , Attended on by health , mirth , beautie , truth . May You live free from dangers , nay from fears , And grow in graces as You do in years : Shoot up like infant-Cedars , straight and even , Till Your brave Heads aspire to neighbour Heaven ; While wee , with a most humble flame inspir'd , Live to behold Your worth , and to admire't .

Entertainment to the Prince Elector at Mr. Osbalston's . PRotect me my best Stars ! A suddain fear Seises my faculties ; there 's something here Surely includes divinely now I see A power inferiour scarce to Majestie ; Claimes my Prerogative ; which , since to You , To Whom he place is consecrate by vow , I do resigne with freedome ; blest Delight For this shall change her Tempe , and invite The jocund Graces hither , to erect Their Pallace here , Mirth being th' Architect : Favonian winds shall with as mild a breath As is expir'd by spotlesse babes in death , Here one continued summer still display , Making this seem a new Arabia . But whence assume I this Prophetick rage ? Rapt with whose sacred furie , I presage This happy Omen ? 'T is your smiles inspire ( Gracious and Noble ) with Aetheriall fire My frosty soule ( so as Promethian heat Gave the cold clay warmth , masculine and great ) . Thus for my selfe . The places Genius now For your Inviter , who by me does vow His heart your humble Sacrifice ; since Heaven Accepts a graine of Incense , that is given With a true zeale , better than pounds of Gumms , Or Alters smoking with fat Hecatombs From fain'd Devotion : He does hope Your eyes Will dart a beame to fire his Sacrifice ; Whose quickning lustre , like the Sun may bring Upon the place and him , a constant Spring .

To Lucinda , upon the first sight of her Beautie . ENcountring her , I thought the morning Star Had left the Nabatbeans , till on her My wondring eyes with a more perfect sight Gazing , beheld , that Venus was but bright , Shee glorious . To venture to compare Her cheeks to Lillies , Sun-beams to her hair , Were to allow her mortall : far from me Be so much sin gainst beauties Deitie . Tell the wild Indian that with prostrate brest Adores the Sun-rise in the gorgeous East , His labour 's lost ; 't is needlesse any more To fish for Pearle or Diamond on their shore : Nor Pearls , nor Diamonds , Rubies , or the rest Of Metaphors , by which are oft exprest Our common beauties , nere can hope to be Grac'd by being us'd as an Hyperbolie In her delineation . 'T was the light Of her br●●●t eyes depriv'd mine of the sight They once enjoy'd : those fools who sought to make A Star of ●●●●nices haire , might take Hers for a Planet , fix it , and ne're fear To dazzle Phoebus lustre in the sphear .

Lucinda describ'd . THere 's not an eye that views Lucinda's face , But wondring at the perfect grace That does within that modell rest , Esteems her most transcendently above The power of Fancie , Art , or Love , Truly to be exprest . To say each golden tresse that does adorne Her glorious Forehead might bee worne By Iuno or by beauties Queene , Were to prophane her sacred threds ; for they Could not such precious Locks display On the Idalian Greene. They are then gorgeous ornaments , and bee The upper branches of that tree Which easily does men intice , Beleeving it the tree of life , to say That they have found a ready way To th' long lost Paradice . Her Iv'rie Forehead curious Nature hath Created for the milkie path ; By which the covetous gazers seek To find a passage by her tempting eyes Without their soules intire surprize To th' Apples in her cheek . Those suns of brightnesse which so farre out-shine Humanitie , that their divine Lustre perswades us , 't is no sin To think each as a Seraphin does stand To guard that blest forbidden Land , And the faire fruit within . Of which her lips like swelling Grapes appeare , The sweetest children of the yeare , In Natures crimson liv'rie drest , And by her balmie breath , to ripenesse brought : They smile , then blush , as if they sought Strait softly to be prest . Then ( as two full Pomegranates ) lower growes Her breasts ; such wonders sure as those Will force nice mis-beliefe to know That miracles as yet unceas'd remaine , Since there doth flourish in each veine Violets on stalks of Snow . But these ( though true descriptions ) are so farr Beneath her worth . I have a Warr Within my pensive soule , to see So many wondrous rare Perfections dwell In one , yet find no Parallell In spacious Poetrie .

To Lucinda departing . OH ! stay Lucinda , and let flie A thousand loves from thy bright eye , By which inspir'd I will expresse Thy beauties , my faire Shepheardesse . Thy Cheek , loves Tempe , where does grow Warme Roses in soft beds of Snow . This wonder ( Dearest ) is to tell The world , th' art Beauties miracle . The envious Panther , at thy breath , Excelling his , does sigh to death ; And at the lustre of thine eye Stars wink , are buried in the Skie . The amorous Thorne ( that does intwine In pricklie armes the Eglantine , ) When thou thy brightnesse dost display , Blossomes , and makes even Winter May. The wanton Syrens that beguile With flatt'ring accents , at thy smile Chaunt layes as harmlesse as the Dove , Or Red-brest when she courts her Love . But all these glories could not fire My frostie soule with big desire ; The Cause that made Lucinda mine Could not be humane , shee 's divine .

To Lucinda weeping . WEep not Lucinda , ' lesse you meane To purge the world from filth , as cleane As are your thoughts : too rich a prize For earth , is such a sacrifice . Such tears as yours , suppose young May Does to the flowers each morning pay . Such tears must sure all eyes intice To think your eyes Loves Paradice . Oh! they have emptied Natures Store , Made Snow , and emulous Chrystall poore : Your tears may justly claim pretence To be the balme of Innocence . But least such Gemmes should be confin'd To earth ; behold the amorous wind Catching them , fixes every one In heaven , a Constellation . But since ( my dearest ) thou wilt weep , Thy tears for holyer uses keep ; When plagues upon the earth are hurld , Let fall one drop , 't will save the world .

To Lucinda . A New-years Gift . DRraw that black vail , ( my fair one ) do not shrowd Those eyes in silken mists , or in a cloud Of waving Curle : be mercifull , appear Like thy bright self , and bring the infant Year Into the world ; old Time her Mother 's run Into so dull a Lethargie ; the Sun Is frozen in his couch , and cannot rise Til thaw'd by th' temp'rate vertue of thine eies , Those soft and gentle Stars , whose pure and clear Rayes , from the Chaos would have forc'd the year . Up then , Illustrious Beautie , gild the day ; Change Januarie into youthfull May. See the cold earth does Winters liv'rie shift , Off'ring the fresh Spring as your New-years Gift ; While the pale Couslip does the Primrose call To wait on You at this new Festivall , Created by your beams : the Winds invite The nimble winged messengers of light , The early Lark , and chirping Thrush to tune Their notes as chearfully , as when in June They softly whisper to the azure skie Of a clear day , a beauteous Augurie . How triviall is a Poets force ! I can Teach birds t' admire you , the rich Ocean Tender its mines of Pearl , the Earth salute Thee with its choisest metals , flowrs and fruit . Impose a tribute on the Sun , force Stars T' adore you more than erring Mariners Do them in Tempests . But when I impart An offring on the Alter of my heart To thy commanding Deity , I can pay Nought but a wreath of Mirtle or of Bay , A Poets humble sacrifice ; unlesse My wishes ( which realitie expresse , Though unperform'd ) may guiltlesly aspire To die the Martyrs of your sacred fire . May all the happinesse Heav'n can conferre Be acted on your lives faire Theater : May you be chast as beautifull ; mischance Never disturbe your peace , not in a trance : May you live long , and healthfull : may no page Of your lives volume , have a line for Age To write his gastly name in ; but when Time Growes old and sickly on you , and does clime With eager feet , your hill of youth , may all His steps be slip'rie , may he backward fall Beyond his fates recoverie , till hee bring Your fading minutes back into the spring Of strength and beauty , til your cheek does wear The fame bright lustre that adorns this year . Which I doe wish the power of gentle Fate May to my Love and yours make fortunate .

To Sleep , upon Lucinda layd to rest . HEnce ugly Image of grim death ; how dare Thy sawcie boldnesse venture on this faire Epitome of heaven ? Dost think that shee Participates of fraile mortalitie In such a drowsie passion ? ( Foole ) go stretch Thy remisse wings ore some poor aguish wretch , Some with'red Hag , whom for her youths loose sin , Just Heaven has destin'd to be kept within The prison of her bed ; from her be gone : The light can suffer no privation . Wert thou not stupid , deafe ? didst thou not heare When shee enrich'd her pillow , how each Spheare Striv'd to expresse its dutie , which should bee Prime Quirister , in whistling harmonie To th' Citizens in Heaven , who at that call Invited Saints to chant a Madrigall Devoted to her silent rest ? The Ayre Grew clear and pleasing , every cloud so fayre ; Heav'ns forehead wore no wrinkles , violent floods Kiss'd the smooth pebles , and the woods With their Inhabitants conjoynd in this , T' afford her senses a sweet Extasis . Didst thou not see how every glorious Star , With their pale Mistris Moon , to wait on her , Officiously contracted their dim light To Tapers , that at opening of her sight They might new gild their Rayes . The Indian which Had nere been poor , had he not first been rich , Dives for unvalued Pearle , and fears to rise Till he can borrow lustre from her Eyes To polish his dull Merchandize . Oh shee ! The Abstract of all which wild Poetrie In its loose raptures taught , wherein her rest Invites the Winds ( as when the Phoenix nest Is by their flavour fir'd ) to mix their breaths With hers , so precious , that ( abortive Death's First child ) dull Sleep , like to the Nightman , must By stealth injoy it : see the parched Dust Turnes to Assyrian odors , and does skip Like an enamor'd Fairie to her Lip , Where Venus Roses grow . Rest safe , my Sweet , Till Sylvans wake , and till the Muses greet Thee with their choisest harmonie ; till night Acknowledge all that it injoyes of light , To thee the Queen of Splendor , whose bright Rayes Renewes in mee the more than Halcion dayes Love in its Primitive purenesse wore . Then rise , And let mine draw new Influence from thine Eyes .

To Lucinda : inviting her from her Chamber . ( doom WHat means this absence ( fair One ) ? What sad Impose you on your self , that one poor Room Includes your glorious Beautie ? Is the Ayr Lesse wholsome here , the Skie lesse clear , lesse fair ? Or to inrich that , have you tane a pride , Meaning t' impov'rish all the Rooms beside ? The little Birds that by the Window flie , Wanting your presence , straight fall down and die : And I , who eas'ly could have fixt your Name A Planet in the Firmament of Fame ; Who could have drest your head with Lightning , and Hung at each Hair a Starrie Diamond ; Who could have sent the cunning Boy to seek His last lost Arrow in your polish'd Cheek ; Who could have rais'd a Mount upon your Lip , On which ( like Fairies ) all the Loves should trip , And added to your Breath such a perfume , As ever spending , never should consume : Who could have fetcht the Indies ( both ) to deck Thi well-form'd Iv'rie Pallace of your Neck ; And like a cunning Painter , have exprest The Worlds perfections in your Globe-like Brest : Praising each Feature so , till every part Appear your Face , and Conquer'd every heart . I for a wreath of Willow cast away My flowry Chaplet of the greener Bay : Dipping my Pen in tears , what ere it be That I would write , it proves an Elegie . You must expell this Sadnesse ; You , whose light Eclipses that pale Virgin of the Night , The solitary Moon , whose every Ray Transcends the clearest lustre of the Day : You in whose eyes sit flames , which can beget Themselves a living Spheer in every Wit : You that are All Women can be , and more Than Youth and Beauty ere disclos'd before : Who doe resemble Heav'n so neer , You 'd want Onely the Name ( not Nature ) of a Saint . You with a smile , can like the West-wind bring An unexpected Summer on the Spring ; And with one Beame , or comfortable Glance Ravish my soule into so high a trance , That Your bright Head shall hit the Stars , and flie To Heaven o' th' swift wings of my Poesie : While I , with equall feare and hope possest , Tender my Heart your Sacrifie , and rest Your Servant .

To Lucinda . He being in Prison . REceive these lines from your imprison'd Friend , As the last Farewell which his hand must send To greet your Eyes , from which mine borrow'd light To guide my wandring Fancie to the sight Of Mortals wonder , in your Essence : Love First darted Raies from those bright Stars to move Me to admire your Beautie : But agen To make old Nature proud , as when my Pen Flowd with mellifluous Epithites , to show The glorious shape shee fully did bestow On your unequal'd Frame . To say your haire Are nets of Gold , whose Tramels might insnare The King of gods ; or that your Iv'rie brests Are Balls of Camphire , sweeter than the nests Where the Arabian Phenix does desire To burne her selfe ; ( as I have done , in fire More precious than her Funerall flames ) would add New griefs , so powerfull as would force mee mad ( Were I of stronger temper ) . Since I 've lost Those rarities bought with the pricelesse Cost Of my unvalued Libertie : which now I must forgoe for ever ; from the Vow You made before the Hierarchie of Heaven ( Which now I summon witnesses how even My Love has been ) I free you ; If you heare That wilfully I perish'd , one poor teare ( I aske no more ) shed , and my Soule , when Death Has robd my carcasse of its loathed breath , Shall pray , that you hereafter may possesse A Friend that lov'd your Memorie no lesse Than I , who spight of Fortune will be blest That once I was term'd Yours ; though now I rest Forsaken . —

To Lucinda , revolted from him . 'T Was I who made thee Beauteous before ; You might have sate regardlesse at your dore , Or past the Streets ( as other Women doe ) Without salutes , or being congee'd to : When now each eye that sees thee , does admire To view a mortall Creature to aspire So neer the Heav'nly Essence : every tongue ( Since I set out thy Excellence among Men of ingenuous Spirits ) strives to raise Thy Name beyond the name of Praise . Nature did well ( I must confesse ) to frame Thee of her choisest Matter ; for the same You stand indebted to her , and 't is fit You should acknowledge thankfulnesse for it . The Orient Pearl new taken from the shell , Though 't be as precious in it self , to sell , Cannot so fitting and commodious bee As when 't is polishd by a Lapidarie . The glistring Diamond shines not to the sight Till by the Mill and Cutter 't is made bright ; You had as much implicite Beautie ( true ) As now you have , when first I did you view ; But like a Diamond clouded ore with Drosse , It gave small lustre , cause unknown it was : I polish'd it by giving it a Name ; Beautie 's regardlesse , till adorn'd by Fame . But Oh the Faith of Women ! Can there be Evasions found for such Apostacie As is in you ? What Penance can abridge Such an Impietie , such dire Sacriledge 'Gainst Love's imperiall Godhead , to resist , Contemn his Orgies , which by me his Priest He did enjoyn , by his own powerfull Name You should observe with a religious Flame ? And you had vow'd to do it , swore that I Should offer up to his great Deitie Your heart ; which Love himselfe would not despise ( But beg for such a welcome Sacrifice , More precious than the sweet Panchayan Gumms , The Phoenix Pile , or fuming Hecatombs ) . But as a vapour which the flatt'ring Sun Attracts to th' pure Ayrs middle Region , Under pretence to give a new Starre birth , And throwes a fading Meteor to the Earth ; So fell your Heart from Love's unspotted Throne By your intemp'rate violation Of Vows to me ; in which if you persist , Mercie will blot you from her candid List , As a prodigious Monster , and firme Truth Blush at a perjurie so black in Youth , So white as yours : at which the Rose-cheek'd Morne Might once have borrow'd lustre , and unshorne Apollo brightnesse : Oh! why should there rest Such falshood , such unkindnesse in a Brest Whose superficiall figure does outgoe In whitnesse Lillies , or untrodden Snow ? Ingratefull Woman ! what unborne offence Can give a specious Shadow , a Pretence To thy unhallow'd falshood ? what strange Cause Thy suddain change , this alteration drawes ? Perhaps now I have set thy Beautie forth , With all the Attributes expressing Worth , That when I did but speak of thee , or write , Fancie and Love daunc'd in each Epithite . Some other Suitor , who to please your eares , Purchases Raptures , which his dull brain bears As Parrots what is taught them , who can speak But by tradition , has surpriz'd your weak Imagination ; and does proudly boast In gaining that which me most labour cost . Or else perhaps your over-curious eye Has spy'd some new unknown deformitie In me ; or 't may be possible you think ( Which is most likely ) that the Muses drink Is quite exhausted ; that my wearie Quill Wants moisture to explain your Praises still , In that full way , that over-liberall strain My Genius us'd at first your Love to gain . If this be it , I 'll fill the Daphnean Quire With a fresh Chaunter , snatch bright Phaebus Lyre From his swift Fingers , and once more rehearse Thy worth in such a strange mellifluous Verse , That sweet Propertius shall his Cynthia tell Thy Praises do her Lustre far excell ; Gabius shall weep that his Lycoris name Is now surpass'd by thy immortall Fame : And ( my great Master ) Ovid shall confesse Corynna's shining Beautie to be lesse Than thine ; since he , for his Corynna's sake Did only three Books of Loves choice Art make ; But I for thine will such Conceits devise , That after no Invention shall arise . Yeeld then , and let us ryot in the Sweets That in Youth , Love , and glorious Beauty meets ; That all the gods may envie to behold Us over-doe their Fables ; Dana's Gold Be counted Drosse , and Laeda's Swan appear Black as a Crow , when whiter Thou art there . First shall my Lips with an unvalued Kisse Suck from ( those fragrant Mountainets of blisse ) Thy melting Lips , more sweetnesse than the Bees Extract from Roses , or Hyblaean Trees , When to the Ayr their tender wings they yeeld , And with their mouths depopulate the field . And then descending to thy Iv'rie Neck My wandring Fancie shall my dull Lips check , That they ore-slipt thy Cheek ; thence they shall flye With hot propension to thy flaming Eye ; Thence to that smooth , that polish'd plain of Snow , On which thy Brests ( those Hils of wonder ) grow , Where little Cupids daunce , and do contend Which of them first shall venture to descend To the Elisian Vallies , that doe lie 'Twixt them and that rich Mine of puritie , Thy slender Waste . What does remain below , 'T is fit that none but you and I should know , When like a vent'rous well resolved man I sail through yourunfathom'd Ocean To Loves safe Harbour ; I 'm too modest ( Sweet ) With wide expressions of our Loves to greet Thy willing eares , since I for my part meane In Action , not in Words to be obscene .

VNclose those Eye-lids , and out-shine The brightnesse of the breaking day ; The light they cover is divine , Why should it fade so soone away ? Stars vanish so , and day appeares , The Sun 's so drown'd i' th' morning's teares . Oh! let not sadnesse cloud this Beautie , Which if you lose you 'll nere recover ; It is not Love's , but Sorrowes dutie To die so soon for a dead Lover . Banish , oh ! banish griefe , and then Our Joyes will bring our Hopes agen .

Epithalamium . THe Joyes of Youth , and what the Spring Of Health , Strength , Happiness can bring , Wait upon this Noble paire . Lady , may you still be faire As earliest Light , and stil enjoy Beauty which Age cannot destroy . May you bee fruitfull as the Day ; Never Sigh but when you Pray ; Know no Grief , but what may bee To temper your Felicitie . And You my Lord , may truest Fame Still attend on your great Name . Live both of you espous'd to Peace , And with your years , let Love increase . Goe late to Heav'n , but comming thither , Shine there , two glorious Starres together .

Epithalamium . THe holy-Priest had joynd their Hands , and now Night grew propitious to their bridall Vow ; Majestick Iuno , and young Hymen flyes To light their Pines at the fair Virgins eyes ; The little Graces amorously did skip With the small Cupids from each Lip to Lip ; Venus her self was present , and untide Her Virgin zone , when loe on either side Stood as her Hand-maids , Chastitie and Truth , With that immaculate guider of her Youth , Rose-colour'd Modestie ; these did undresse The beauteous Maid , who now in readinesse , The nuptiall Tapors waving 'bout her Head , Made poor her Garments and enrich'd her Bed . While the fresh Bridegroome , like the lusty Spring , Did to the holy Bride-bed with him bring Attending masc'line Vertues ; down he laid His snowie Limbs by a far whiter Maid . There Kisses link'd their Minds ; as they imbrace , A Quire of Angels flew about the place , Singing all Blisse unto this Pair for ever , May they in Love and Union still persever .

Upon a Gentleman playing on the Lute . STrange miracle ! Who 's this that wears The native Liv'rie of the Sphears ; Transforming all our sense to Ears ? Surely it cannot bee a sin To think there is , or may have bin On earth a heavenly Seraphin . That granted , certain 't must bee hee ; In any else there cannot bee , Such a Coelestiall Harmonie . When glorious He with swift pursute Touch't the soft Cordage of his Lute , The Genius of the World was mute . Amphion so his hand let fall , When at th' inchantment of his call Stones danc'd to build the Theban Wall. Arion sure , when he began To charme th' attentive Ocean , Was but an Embleme of this Man , Whose numerous Fingers , whiter farre Than Venus Swans or Ermines are , Wag'd with the amorous strings a Warre ; But such a Warre as did invite The Sense of Hearing , and the Sight To riot in a full delight . For as his Touch kept equall pace , His Looks did move with such a grace ; We read his Musick in his Face . Live Noble Youth , let Heav'n inspire Thee with its owne eternall Fire , While all that hear thee doe admire .

Love . LOve 's a Child , and ought to be Won with smiles : his Deitie Is cloath'd in Panthers skins which hide Those parts which kill , if but espy'd ; Hates Wars , but such as mildly led By Venus are to pleasures Bed ; There do soft imbraces fight , Kisses combate with delight . Amorous looks , and sighs discover What be fits a timerous Lover . But who ere to Love doth yeeld , Mars his Spear , nor Pallas Shield Can save from ruine ; for Loves Fire Once enkindled by desire , Blown by thoughts impetuous blasts , It for ever burning lasts . The Sphear to which it strives to flie Are humane hearts that seek to die ; These ( like fuell ) Loves fire cherish , Till they to ashes burne and perish .

To a reviv'd Vacation Play , Prologue . IT is a dead Vacation ; yet we see ( Which glads our souls ) a wel-set Company Adorn our Benches : We did scarce expect So full an Audience in this long neglect Of Court and Citie Gentry , that transfer In Terme their Visits to our Theater . The Countrey Gentlemen come but to Town For their own bus'nesse sake , to carry down A sad Sub-poena , or a fearfull Writ For their poor Neighbour , not for love of Wit. Their comely Madams too come up to see New Fashions , or to buy some Raritie For their young Son and Heir , and only stay Till by their Sheepshearing they 'r call'd away . The Courtiers too are absent , who had wont To buy your Wares on trust , they 'r gone to hunt The nimble Buck i' th' Countrey ; and conceive , They give you Int'rest , if you but receive A haunch of Ven'son , or if they supplie Your Wives trim Churching with a Red-Deer Pie . Few Gentlemen are now in Town , but those Who in your Books remain uncross'd for Clothes , Who , when you aske them money , are so slack To pay 't ; their answer is , What do you lack ? You are our daily and most constant Guests , Whom neither Countrey bus'nesse nor the Gests Can ravish from the Citie ; 't is your care To keep your Shops , ' lesse when to take the Ayr You walke abroad , as you have done to day , To bring your Wives and Daughters to a Play . How fond are those men then that think it fit T'arraigne the Citie of defect of Wit ? When we do know you love both wit & sport , Especially when you 've vacation sor't . And now we hope you 've leisure in the Citie To give the World cause to suspect you witty . We would intreat you then put off awhile That formall brow you wear when you beguile Young Chapmen with bad Wares ; pray do not look On us , as on the Debtors in your Book , With a shrewd countenance ; what we act to day Was for your sakes ; ( some think ) a pretty Play ; Nay wee our selves almost presume it good Because we hope it will be understood By your capacious Brains , which know to get Wealth , and for that cause we can't doubt your Wit ; At least we dare not , since wee 'r bound to say All those are witty come to see our Play .

For Ezekiel Fen at his first Acting a Mans Part. PROLOGVE . SUppose a Merchant when he lanches forth An untry'd Vessell , doubtfull of its worth , Dare not adventure on that infant Peece The glorious fetching of a golden Fleece From the remot'st Indies . 'T is so with mee , Whose Innocence and timerous Modestie Does blush at my own shadow , prone to feare Each Wave a Billow that arises here ; The Company 's my Merchant nor dare they Expose my weak frame on so rough a Sea , ‛ Lesse you ( their skilfull Pilots ) please to stear By mild direction of your Eye and Ear Their new rigg'd Bark . This is their hopes and mine Promise my selfe ; if you like North-stars shine , I like a daring , and adventrous Man , Seeking new paths i' th' angry Ocean , In threatning Tempests , when the surges rise And give salt kisses to the neighb'ring Skies , When blustring Boreas with impetuous breath Gives the spread Sailes a wound to let in Death , Cracks the tall Mast , forcing the Ship ( though loth ) On it s carv'd Prow to wear a Crown of sroth ; Will face all perils boldly , to attain Harbour in safety ; then set forth againe .

To Mr. Charles Cotton . YOu that are he , you that are onely he , Who are what every noble Soule should be , The Abstract of Mankind , who truely can Contract Wits spacious Orb into a span ; Have stock enough of goodnesse to restore What erring Nature ever lost before . 'T is not the greatnesse of your Name or Blood Makes mee adore you , 't is because you'r good . The Wits Maecenas can without a storme Of triviall words , even actuate and inform With spritly soule that matter which would lie Lost like a lumpe , without a memorie Or life t' ingender Wit. Think there can bee In mee ( dear Sir ) no seeds of Flatterie . Rapt with an holy Zeal , I needs must sing Your ample Worth ; and when I touch a string Of my Phoebeian Lyre , chast Daphne shall Tender her Bayes to deck the Festivall : Devoted to your merit , Bacchus then Shall with his richest Nectar-swelling Pen Indue me with such Wine , as I do think , At least I wish , that you this night may drink ; Pure blood of the rich Spanish Grape which may Make you immortall , and atchieve the Bay Poets by drinking ayme at . May there bee In your carouses , Wit and Companie Fit for your dear enjoying ; may the wealth Of noble Wine enrich you with a Health Great as my wishes ; while forgotten I By your Commands , banish'd that Company I so admire , in my Archaick bed Sigh like a Girle , whose precious Maidenhead Is ravish'd from her ; till your future view Banish that pensive sadnesse , and renew The happinesse of Your Servant .

To my Friend , Advice . IN Natures Annals Mans's the perfect Story , And you of man had been the perfect glory , Had not the errour of your giddie youth Sold the Inheritance of that noble truth Entaild on glorious manhood : you who are In your desires so much irregular , That your Ambition is to have your May , Your flower of Youth spent in the fruitlesse play Of gaining Female favours . In your blood Live flames , ( which felt ) yet are not understood ; Continuall Aetnaes in your veines nere cease To burne , yet doe by burning even increase . What pleasure find you in a foolish Kisse , Or wanton look , that you do place your blisse , Your minds Elisium in an amorous glance , Or Priapeian night-work , such a trance , A dreame , a nothing ? Can that be the summe O joy that you should aime at ; to become For that an Idiot ; to enthrall your heart To one whom nature made your weaker part , Your houshold servant ; to adore her haire , Make of her face an Idoll , which though faire , Is but a painted Sepulchre within Containing rotten ashes of black sin , Reliques of soule corruption ! oh ! reclaime Those sordid thoughts , and let a nobler aime Be your minds Object , be the finall Cause Of your youths Actions ; Let not Cupids Laws Govern you wholly : For your female Creatures , Inchanting Divels clad in humane features , Earths needfull evils ; Women , they whose name Divided , does most perfectly proclaime Their bad Condition ; they , whose Beauty must Be to men fire-brands to enkindle Lust ; They are that sweet and undigested meat That does consume all those that dare to eat The too delicious Banquet ; Bels that sings One tune at Weddings and at Buryings ; Serpents whose cunning carriage can intice Another Adam out of Paradice . They 'r all extremely good , or fraught with evils : If good , best Saints ; if bad , the worst of Divels . Pardon mee ( sacred Woman-hood ) that I Who 've rais'd your Beautie to a Deitie , Who know you good and vertuous , that you can Excell in worth as well as feature , Man ; That I should for the love I bear this Youth , Injure the innocence of your matchlesse truth : 'T is to reclaime his follies : Let him see How bad the worst of your frail Sexe can bee . I le expiate this crime hereafter , pay To your chast thoughts my own yet Virgin Bay ; How much am I your friend then , that dare chuse To hazzard the fresh honour of my Muse For your dear sake ; that with one loving breath Giving you life , betray my selfe to death ? But this is friendships dutie , and I must Rather to you that to my self be just . Oh! Noble Youth , when you with judgment shall Read all the Texts not held Canonicall In womens Legends , when you shall behold In Times successive Volume , what 's inrol'd Concerning them , how many leaves are spent Upon their Lives , and each a Monument Speaking the mischiefes that of old did rise From the intemperate glances of their eyes : And when Times Herald Fame shall usher in Those whom Antiquitie brands for that sin : Bring Helen forth and the lascivious Boy Wrapt in the flames ( themselves did cause ) of Troy : When faire incest'ous Myrrha you shall see Groaning within the entrails of a Tree ; View wanton Lais , who so oft did sell Her beauteous youth , a horrid Fiend in Hell ; Or Tyrian Dido with big rage possest , Opening the white dores of her Love-sick brest To let in wilfull death ; Or when you shall Read modern Stories more Authenticall Then Poetry has taught : You shall survey Those Monsters , Nero and Caligula , Naked and trembling ; then with guilty feare Insatiate Messalina shall appeare ; Then the two Queens of Naples , who in Name Were parallels as well as in their fame , Whose appetites could never be withstood ( blood . Till their owne bloods quench'd their owne heate of When you have seen these , turn your eyes and look On that fair paper , that unspotted Book , Where happier Stories flourish : and behold Inscrib'd in Characters of purest Gold Those glorious Names that Fame records to bee Th' immaculate Champions of blest Chastitie ; Selfe-murdred Lucrece , 't will a Saint expresse , And damne foule Tarquin for 's lasciviousnesse : Chast Arethusa there displayes her Beams , That shine , though drown'd in lustful Alphey's streams . Daphne , that Phoebus hot pursuit did shun , Looks brighter now than the lascivious Sun . But vain are all examples ; since even we By Reasons Mistris , wise Philosophie , In Ethicks are instructed that we must Think each thing wicked which we know unjust : And what more dire injustice can there be Than to our selves a want of Charitie ? But I 'm too serious now , and must excuse The over-bold instructions of my Muse : I know dear friend , you 'r so maturely wise , You can see vice , though cloth'd in the disguise Of vertue ; and 't is needlesse then to preach Doctrine to you , who abler are to teach Than be instructed : but my Pen does move Only by true directions of my love , From which if you receive the least offence , I must appeale to th' Court of Innocence From your harsh Censure ; since what I have said Was not to chide you , Friend , but to perswade . VErtues reward is Honour , and though you Wear no more Titles than descend as due From your brave Ancestors , yet to your Blood 'T is an addition ( Sir ) to be thought good . You , whose demeanor bears that equall port , You 've won the love , not envie of the Court ; That can observe the forme and Laws of State , Gaining mens emulation , not their hate ; That with a noble temper can decide The diffrence 'twixt formalitie and pride , That your indifferent actions are as far From b'ing too common , as too singular , So that with glorious freedome you direct Your Will to what it ought most to affect . You in whose Nature ( as two Suns ) arise The Attributes of Bountefull and Wise. You that are Valiant , ( as Fames eldest Child Honour ) yet teach even Valour to be mild . You that ( in brief ) with certain judgment can Be perfect Courtier , yet be perfect Man . 'T is no Poetick flattry that does raise My eager Muse up to this height of Praise . Big with an holy and Prophetick rage , In Fames great Book , I in an ample Page Wil fix the Annals of your Worth , which shall When other Names are held Apocryphall , In that eternall Volume be annext A faire Appendix to that glorious Text. But now ( Great Sir ) 't is time that I excuse The too audacious errours of my Muse , And by my humble wishes strive to win A full remission for its daring sin . May you enjoy what ever Strength and Health Can yeeld of pleasure ; or unbounded Wealth Can without riot purchase : may you bee As free from others envie , as y' are free From its desert : and may you ( which long since You had ) grow great i' th' favour of your Prince . May not mischance invade your souls blest peace ; But may it even as it consumes , increase . And when decrepid age shall slowly creep Over your Youth , and to eternall Sleep Confine your eye-lids ; may you then expire Blest as a Martyr that does Court the Fire . Poets are Prophets Sir ; and things indeed Happen , when they but wish they may succeed .

Vpon the right Honourable RICHARD Earle of Portland , late Lord High Treasurer of ENGLAND . ELEGIE . HOw dul's my Faith ! 't would pusle my belief That there could be room left on earth for grief , Did not the Worlds great Genius seem to powre Its very eyes out in a plenteous showre , As if it meant its moysture should create Another Deluge , spight of pow'rfull Fate . The Stars are mournfull grown , and do conspire With unaccustom'd tears to quench their fire . The Sun himselfe looks heavie , and puts on ( In spight of Light ) a sad privation , ( breath Since Noble PORTLAND's fall , whose glorious Was too too precious to bee stolne by Death . Grim Tyrant hold thy hand , if thou ' lt imploy Thy unresisted Shafts , let them destroy Only those petty subjects , whom their Fate Never produc'd for Pillars of the State ; The Kingdome well may spare them , and their losse Would rather be a blessing than a crosse . There 's multitudes that only seek to bee The ends , not raisers of their Familie , To whom thy Darts ( their Patrimony spent ) Would be most welcome Cures of discontent . Ambitious Furie ! 'T is thy only aime To vanquish those same true born sons of Fame That rise by noble merit ; such was hee To whom my Muse does pay this Elegie . He who though plac'd in Honors highest seat , Striv'd rather to be counted Good than Great . Into whose Essence ( all conceiv'd ) that State Did its own soule even transubstantiate : Such were his Counsels , so supremely wise , They alwaies conquerd where they did advise . His Judgement too so strong , and so mature , What ere it promis'd , seem'd to be secure : Yet 't was with such a moderation mixt , That as on Law , so 't was on Conscience fixt . All 's actions were so even , they nere did force The great mans Envie , nor the poor mans Curse . Such was his Life , so temperate and just , It nere knew Malice , nor commerc'd with Lust. What suddain trance surrounds me ? what extreme Passion confines my senses to a Dreame ? I feele a lazie humour slowly creep Over my Fancie , charming it to sleep , Or rather , that ( entranc'd ) it might supply Great PORTLAND's Herse with a fit Elegie . Now a Poetick furie brings mee on To mount to Fames eternall Mansion , Where upon Marble Seats I did behold Those glorious Worthies so renound of old For prudent Counsels , who were held the health , The very life and soule o' th' Common-wealth . There the mellifluous Cicero did shine Bright with the spoiles of vanquish'd Cataline ; And as his Motto , ore his Throne there hung , Arms yeeld to Arts ; let Swords give place to th' Tongue . There Roman Fabius sate , who wrought the fall ( By his delays ) of Punick Hanuibal . 'Mongst other forraigne Statesmen , there appears Those of our Nation , who for many years Did in ambiguous Fortunes frown and smile , Uphold the Fate and Glory of this Isle . There that great Marshall Pembroke did sustaine The reeling Pillars of third Henries Raigne , And of this our English heaven advance Himselfe the Atlas gainst invading France . ( After a numerous Companie ) in his Pall , And other holy Robes , Fame did install Illustrious Morton , that compos'd the Jarre Betwixt the House of York and Lancaster . There Sackvile , Cecill , Egerton , were plac'd , On whom as I stood gazing , Fame in hast Approaching , did command them to prepare For PORTLAND's welcome to that Theater Of ever-living Honour ; and to mee , Goe sing ( quoth shee ) this Worthies Elegie . Straight ( as the Muses Priest ) I did obey , And gan to touch my Instrument , when they Leaving their Thrones , with an unanimous voice Welcom'd the Sage Lord , and did give him choice Which Seat he would accept ; but modest hee , Repaid their Courtesie with Courtesie , Till Fame her selfe installd him , and did give His merit this Inscription , which shall live , As his great Name , unraz'd : Here PORTLAND lies , That was as truely Iust as hee was Wise ; Cautious , yet full of Councell ; Mild , yet free From seeking idle Popularitie ; To Goodmen gentle , to the Bad severe ; Lov'd Vertue for its selfe , and not for Feare . This Fame inscrib'd , and this shall deck his Herse , While there is Time , or memorie of Verse .

On Sir Robert Ayton , late Secretarie to her Majestie . ELEGIE . TEares are all Great mens Obsequies , when they Break from the glorious prison of their Clay ; A thousand fluent eyes their losses mourns , As if they meant to drowne them in their Urnes . If then this sorrow customarie bee , How many eyes should bee wept out for thee ? Admired Ayton ! every mournfull breath Lamenting thine should sigh it self to death , As proud to wait on thy pure Soul , which fled To heaven so swiftly ; none did think thee dead , Till the loud Bell ( Deaths Trumpet ) did proclaime Thy flight to immortalitie ; then Fame Herselfe put on Griefs Liverie , and sung Thy weighty losse , till shee had lost her tongue In that sad use , as if shee meant to have A Tombe for all her Storie in thy Grave . Thou , who when living , Truths example stood , To teach Great men how to be Great & Good ; Nay , to be Wise and Learnd , to act each part Of their Lives Scene , with Vertue and with Art , Which thou mad'st Vertues Hand-maid , and with skil Manag'd thy Greatnesse , without Greatnesse ill . But Sorrow does distract me , and my Zeal Of Grief for thee does ( with the practise ) steal Away my Muses Faculties , and now Deaths Embleme ( Cypresse ) hangs upon my Brow Heavie as thy cold Marble ; else ere this , My pregnant Muse , big with an Extasis Of Wonder , had endeavour'd to set forth The unexpressive glorie of thy Worth : It had displaid thy Learning , which was such , That it ( in justice ) may compare with much Admired Barclay , or be said to side With Wit-excelling Buchanan , ( the pride And glorie of thy Nation ) 'T was so known To both the Kingdomes , each would gladly own Thee as their Off-spring , but ours ( grieving ) must Only be happy to preserve thy dust : Which as if Fame had meant it should inherit The glorie due unto thy living Merit , This unaccustom'd Honour to it brings , To mix with sacred ashes of our Kings . Good , is in Subjects Kingly , and in thee All Graces strive to make an Unitie Of pious goodnesse ; many flames so meet , And curle into one Pyramid , then greet Their subtle Spheare ; in Aytons equall Brest Dwels all that could for Vertue be exprest . So that the brightnesse of his Lives just glory Shall shame the Bad , be to the good a Story .

Vpon the Noble Colonell-Generall Burroughs , slaine at the Isle of Ree . ELEGIE . ADmired BURROUGHS ! though to deck thy Herse Thy Merits challenge a tenth Muses Verse ; Though , if thy Valour just reward should have , Mars should turne Poet , write thy Epitaph : Yet let not thy blest soule ( Heroick Spirit ) That now in heavens great Armie does inherit The Civick Garland , Laurell , and enjoyes More glorious triumphs than the Romish toyes Us'd to grace happie Conquests with , despise This , though no Hecatombe , yet a Sacrifice , Which the well-wishes of a bleeding heart Offers as Fun'rall flames to thy desert . To say thou wert Wise , Valiant , and the rest Of those good Attributes thy Worth exprest T' include in it , were nothing ; 't were more fit That some sweet Genius some Ovidian Wit Should studie for new Epithites t' expresse Thee as thou wert then living , that 's no lesse Than Master of those Gifts , which here related Would make old Nature proud she had created A work of so much wonder , that pale Death Has lodg'd thee now ( Illustrious Soule ) beneath A pile of Marble , whose hard entrails weep O're thy cold ashes ; and since yron-sleep Has clos'd thy eye-lids , let thy silent Grave Retain with thee this for thy Epitaph : Here lies a Colonell , slaine by fatall Shot ; Who lost his Reg'ment , and a Kingdome got .

Vpon the right Honourable , the Lady Elisabeth Rich. ELEGIE . WHy looks the day so dull ? why does 't appear As if it were contracted to a Tear ? Or rather had put off essentiall Light , To shrowd its Lustre in eternall night ? The Clouds are drowsie , as they meant to sleep , Or rather pregnant ( with salt Dew ) to weep . 'T is past the Morning now , Day needs not powre Its precious moysture on each amorous Flowre ; The Violets want not liquid pearls t' adorne Their azure ears , nor from the beauteous Morne Does the pale Couslip or the Primrose seek A Christall Gemm to hang upon its Cheek ; Their pride does wither , they hang down their heads , As if they would intombe them in their beds . The Sun-aspiring Lark under his Wing Hanging his head , seems now to sigh , not sing . What should portend this sadnes ? why should mirth Seem thus o' th' suddain to bee fled from Earth ? No Comet has appear'd of late , no Star With blazing brightnesse threatned Death or War . The Cause then of this suddain change must be Beyond the reach of wise Astrologie . ( My Fancie has 't . ) This alteration falls Only at Beauties , Vertues Funeralls . These are no common Obsequies , since Shee ( Illustrious Ladie ) is enforc'd to bee The Cause of these lamented Rites , by proud Imperious Death confin'd into a Shrowd : Shee that was so superlatively Good , Her Vertue was her Honour more than Blood : Whose Innocence and Love was all her Care : Who was as purely Chast as Shee was Fayre : So full of noble Carriage , that her Life May be the Figure of a perfect Wife . Look here you curious Great Ones , here doth ly A Glasse for you to dresse your Actions by . 'T was not the name of Ca'ndish , so ally'd To Worth , that could in her beget least Pride ; Nor did shee boast her Title , being led A glorious Bride to hopefull Rich his Bed . Gentle as Summer Evenings , or as Ayre In its first native Puritie ; and Faire As was the Beams of the Created Light , Before it ever had convers'd with Night ; Humble as Vot'ries , that in Pray'r expire ; And Chast as those who never know Desire Was this Religious Dame ; who nere can die , Since her own Fame has writ her Elegie .

Vpon the death of his Sister , M rs . Priscilla Glapthorne . ELEGIE . Happie Arabians , when your Phoenix dies In a sweet pile of fragrant Spiceries ! Out of the Ashes of her Myrrh-burn'd Mother , ( That you may still have one ) springs up another . Unhappie we ! Since 't is your Phoenix nature , Why could nor ours , our only matchlesse Creature Injoy that right ? Why from the Mothers Urne Did not another Phoenix straight returne ? Oh! there 's a reason ; 't was cause Natures Store All spent on her , is now become too poore To frame her equall , so that on her Herse My trembling hand shall hang this Fun'rall Verse . Vertue and Beautie , none can boast to have , They both are buried in her silent Grave ; Who was Loves , Truths , Beauties and Vertues Pride ; With her Love , Truth , Beautie and Vertue dyd .

Vpon the death of M rs . Susanna Osbalston . ELEGIE . I Pree thee leave me , Grief ; if thou wilt stay Within my panting Brest , shew mee the way To present death ; or force my eyes to shed So large a flood of Tears , as may bee spred Like a transparent Christall Sheet upon Her Grave , that so no other worthlesse Stone Aspire t' adorne her Monument . Oh Shee ! Who was what ev'ry loyall Wife should bee : Shee in whose living Character was writ A modest Sweetnesse cloath'd in harmlesse Wit : Not like those ayrie Dames that only strive To keep their Faces , not their Fames alive : That prey upon their Husbands wealth , consume Whole Sign'ories in Painting and Perfume : That only make an Idoll of their Will , And hate all Good , 'cause they account it Ill. No , shee was pleasing , void of least Offence ; Was fully Wise , yet full of Innocence . But oh ! how I undoe my selfe ! I now Must pull my Lawrell from my wrinkled Brow , And wreath'd in deathfull Cypresse , sadly call My Muse to wait upon her Funerall . Light thy sick Tapers , pensive Muse , and come To wait her Death , and thine owne Martyrdome ; For neverbe invok'd to write ( by mee ) , When hers is writ , another Elegie . Now in that silent Tenement of Death , The Church , go sing in a soft Swan-like breath , A Requiem to thy memory ; and there Drowne ev'ry word thou utter'st with a Teare : But let them be such Tears as may expresse Not Sorrow , but a joyfull Extasis . And You ( dear Sir ) in whom there doth survive So much of her , shee needs must rest alive In your yet bleeding memory ; You that know How much each tributarie-Grace did owe To her unmatch'd Perfections ; how that shee Was Vertues , Beauties just Epitome : How that her Eyes were Sphears in which did move The equall Orbs of Chastitie and Love : Her Cheeks two fields of purity , where grew The Rose and Lilie , mixt i' th' mutuall hue Of Smiles and Blushes ; how each outward part Did speak the richer lustre of her Heart , Her Minds intensive glory . When you think Justly on this , her Grave no more shall drink Your frequent Tears ; but fraught with noble Mirth , You 'll soon devest your Soul of all that 's Earth About it ; say , 't was justice to transferre From this dull Region such a matchlesse Starre , And fix't i' th' Christall Heav'n ; you 'll then confesse Your constant Love to her appear'd far lesse . In Griefe than Joy ; for sorrow spent for this Her happinesse , is envie to her blisse , Not charitie t' her memory ; yet my Verse Shall hang a lasting Hatchment on her Herse , My Lawrell deck her Urne , in which does lie As much as of Mortalitie could die . You Sir , who then best knew her perfect Life , Ought to rejoyce , not grieve for your dead Wife .

SYLVIA . A FRAGMENT . AS DAMON thus did 'plaine , Behold a Cloud ( out of the foamie Maine ) 'Gan to arise , and over-looke the Earth , Scorning the Sea ( from whence it took its birth ) As dull and pond'rous ; still it mounts up higher With azure Wings , as if it meant t' aspire , Spight of commanding Natures free Consent , To place 'bove Ayr the watry Element ; Whose vain ambition , from his calid Sphear , When nimble Fire , the chief and supreme Peere Of Elements , beheld ; his servent Ire Increas'd his furie , adding Fire to Fire , Making him hotter than the eighth degree , Which is prescrib'd him by Philosophie ; And calling to his accident , the Heat That by him sate upon a brazen Seat ; Which 〈◊〉 like Aetna , when Typ●●us breath . Threatens to blow up the Sicilian earth . He bad him quell that over-daring Foe , Who still made hast to his own overthrow . Heat strait obayd ; and wrapping up in Smoke His horrid Flames , a speedy passage took Into the fierie Regions , and with force Of rayes more ardent than the Suns bright Horse When they ore-turn'd their Masters purple Carr , And drownd in Po , the ventrous Waggoner , Drew up the willing Cloud , that striv'd to flie , With Icarus to its owne Tragedie . Just as a Load-starre , whose attracting force Does cause the Iron leave its native Course , And mount to it ; so did Heats pow'rful might Inforce the following Cloud , till it had quite Pass'd the first Kingdome , and was upward gone Into the pure Ayrs middle Region ; Then back with speed , the Heat gan homeward fare And left the Cloud to th' mercy of the Ayre ; Whose subtle bodie being light and drie , Could not indure the Clouds moist qualitie . ( Clouds and all heavie Meteors , Rain , and Snow , Haile , and the like , are Bodies mixt , that grow Out of the Earth , and watry Element , Which by their nature pond'rous , still are bent Down to the Center , but the Ayre and Fire Of more pure substance , seek to force them higher Towards the Sphear , that in their downfall thence They may triumph , and shew their Eminence Over those dullerbodies ; but the natures Of these two grosse , yet fully simple Creatures Will not permit ascension , they attract Therefore these Meteors upwards , which compact Of humid Vapours , needs must seek to bow Downwards again ) : Our Cloud then which was now Left by its hot Conductor , straight was cast By the inraged Ayr with greater hast , To kisse the Center ( than a Parthian Bow Can shoot an Arrow , or a Morter throw Deathfull Granado's ) : in its way it strook Upon the Firmament , and there b'ing broke , Its wat'ry substance did obscure the Plaine And gawdie Heaven with Clouds , which sought again To joyn in one , and fill the buxome Ayre , Just as you 've seen a Painter on a faire White Table drop some little spots of Black , Which running here and there , at length does make One Colour in the Grownd-work ; or as when Two num'rous Hosts of wel-resolved men Meet in the Field , and with the murd'rous Smoak Of their Death-sending Muskets , strive to choak Their bloody facts from view of lightsome day , The Sulphure flying many a sev'rall way , At last does meer , and dim the Christall Sky : So did this Cloud , now many , by and by One Cloud agen ; which when the Rose-cheek'd Sun ( Who had but halfe his daily labour run ) Saw from his shining Chariot , on hee speeds , Driving amain his Nectar-glutted Steeds Through the dark Welkin , now he 'gins to call On Pirois , now on Aethon , then le ts fall His angry Whip upon their sweaty backs , Now pulls the Raines hard , which again he slacks , That they might have more free and open Course T' expell the Cloud , which scorning the Suns force , With pitchie mists did so obscure his light , That day seem'd turn'd into Cimmerian Night . Then straight the Cloud out of its watrie Store Showr'd as if godly Pyrrhus age once more Had been approaching , when blew Proteus drave His flocks to see the Mountains , Fishes clave Unto the Elmes , before a noted seat For harmlesse Turtles . All the Winds did meet In hostile opposition ; Auster fought With Lybs , and he with Boreas , who from out His rapid throat cast gusts , and did display His wings as wide , as when Orythia Was by him ravisht : Thunder from the Skie Like to lovd musick , made a Harmonie : With the Winds whistling shrilnesse , Seas did roare Rising in frothie Mountains , that the Shore Trembled for feare , lest the impetuous Waves Should passe their Limits , and become the Graves . To the adjoyning Meadowes : And our Swaine Damon , who erst in Tears began to plaine His Kala's losse , now let that salt dew fall , To solemnize his poor Flocks Funerall . For loe big-swelling with the late-falne Raine Tyber broke ore his Banks , and ran amaine Into the Meadowes , where our Shepheards kept Their Woolly Charge , which presently was swept Down by the greedy River , as wee see A Towne beleagur'd by its Enemie , When by an on-slaught 't is surpriz'd and tane , Both old and young are by the Martiall Traine Of the Victorious Souldiers murdred : so Dealt the inraged River ; to and fro It ran , and bore down all ; the tender Lambs That then were sucking of their milkie Dams , Ere they could waile their deaths with one sad bleat , Were swallow'd up , yet hanging on the Teat . Nor did the Flocks horn'd-Leaders brazen Bell Serve him for ought , unlesse to ring a knell To the Folds drowning : 't was in vain to strive , For the poor Shepheards now to save alive Themselves was all their studie ; to a Wood , Whose top had long a mark to Sea-men stood , They trembling fled , when straight the Cloudy Skie 'Gan to cleer up , and Phoebus lightsomely Agen to shine ; the Muses of this Grove To chaunt their sylvan Madrigalls , and move The Stones to listen , and the loftie Trees To bow their dewie heads ; the busie Bees Leaving the hollow Oaks which the late Rain Had forc'd 'em enter , now began again Their little thighs with juyce of Thyme to fill ; But the amazed Shepheards trembling still , Could scarce give credit to their wondring eyes , ( Such pow'r has feare if throughly it surprize Our soule and sences ) they beheld the Wood As 't had been water ; thought each plash a flood , And every drop that from the boughs did fall They thought a tear shed for their Funerall . In this amazement standing ; to their sight An object was presented , naked quite , Save that her snowie Smock did compasse in Its white embraces , her far whiter Skin . They saw bound to an Oak so rare a Creature , As seem'd to be the work on which old Nature Had spent her best Materialls . Not Cytherca , when shee naked rose From the Seas wat'ry bosome , did disclose Halfe of her Beauties ; not the nimble Maid , To whose swift Feet so many Suitors paid Their heads as tribute ; nor the Wood-nymphs Queen When shee was bathing by Acteon seen , Showd like to her ; by whom Pigmalion might Have tane a Patterne , and have fram'd a right Modell of Beautie : her attractive Haire , Bright as the Sun-beams , drew th' inamour'd Ayr Gently to waft it ; and her Pearls of Sight , Though drown'd in Tears , cast forth a glitt'ring light , That through dark Sorrow shin'd ; the winged Boy Leaving his Mothers Fountains , came 〈◊〉 injoy Those Christal Wels , whose pure drops could redresse Sooner than Nectar , hot Loves thirstinesse . The Naiades , and tripping Fairie Elves Repin'd to see in their owne Woods , themselves So farre surpass'd in Beautie ; and the Grove Thinking't had been Sylvanus fairest Love , Brought thither all his Off-spring , with pretence To doe his Gods belov'd Nymph reverence . First did the Thorne most amorously begin To twine about her , yet nere prick'd her skin ; Then aged Palmes , and Victor-crowning Bayes Halfe-withered ( at her Eyes all quickning Rayes ) Came and renew'd their freshnesse ; and the Yew Unkind to wearie Passengers , at view Of her , lost all his poyson ; and the Tree Whence Venus Minion in his Infancie Was by the Wood-nymph taken , did presume To borrow sweetnesse from her breaths persume ; Here did the Cedar meet the stately Pine , And it the Cypresse , seeking to intwine Their bushie tops , which Arbour-wise did run To shade her Face , and robb the am'rous Sun Of his desired Kisses ; all the Wood At view of her , as much amazed stood , As when the Oegrin Harpists cunning hand Gave life to Mountains , forc'd Panchaya stand Shaking her Balmie Tresses . Had the deep Sighs shee expir'd not shewd that life did keep In her a happie residence , the Swaines Would have imagin'd that her azure Veines , Her Iv'rie Neck , and swelling Brests , the rest Of her Dimensions , not to be exprest , T' have been Diana's Statue , there erected To be ador'd ; but when they had respected Her sighs , and saw her living as sh' ad been Some Sylvan Goddesse , or the Nymph whose green Scepter commands the Forrests ; they askd' grace For off'ring entrance to that sacred place . The bashfull Virgin , from her weeping eyes Shot glitt'ring Rayes hot Loves Incendiaries , Teaching Daies Tapor a more glorious Shine Than Diamonds give to Jet , when they intwine , At them the frozen Waggoner might thaw His Chariot axel'd with congealed Snow ; And the slow moving North-Star having felt Their temp'rate heat , his Isicles would melt , And being affrighted at the sight of men , Call'd up the blood into her Cheeks agen Which fear had made depart thence ; blushing red , As does Aurora when shee leaves the Bed Of old Tythonius ; saine she would have got Into the Wood , tooke Daphne from the hot Pursuit of lustfull Cynthius ; the Oak She oft besought to lend its Bark to cloak Her from their view , 〈◊〉 when she saw how vain Her wishes were , shee then began a main To beat her Brests , and from her radiant eyes To send a showre , whose drops were of more price Than those which conquer'd Danae : As shee thought With plaints and grievous sighs to have besought The Shepheards to unbind her ; from the thick Of the green Wood , came running toward her , quick As some Numidian Lyon from his Den , ( Half-starv'd with hunger ) to his prey , three men Three Monsters rather , clad in Weeds of haire , Save that their Legs , and Armes , and Necks all bare , Look'd rougher than their Garments ; to the Maid Then bent their cruell steps , who humbly praid The Heavens for pitie ; on the Villains went Towards the Oak with a most damn'd intent To ravish her ; the Trees that by her stood Began lament ; the light Nymphs of the Wood Implor'd the chast Diana to defend Her wretched Votresse ; and the Birds did tend The Ayr with dismall screetches ; Phylomell In mourning accents fram'd her voice to tell The Vengeance due to Ravishers : the Fite That burn'd their entrails , blown by soul desire , Made their eyes sparkle , yeelding horid sight Unto their fact , whose blacknesse did affright The blushing Sun , who bid his golden head And seem'd to suffer an Eclipse through dread Of that dark deed ; and now they did begin With sacrilegious hands to touch that skin , Which soft as Lydian Silk , did even intice Love there to build his choicest Paradice . When the inraged Shepheards , who beheld Their monstrous purpose , with stern fury fild , Ran to her succour ; as a Bear , whose young Is stolne away , or as a Wolfe among A flock of Sheep , when by the Pastors care Hee 's hindred of his prey ; just so did fare The disappointed Letchers ; and with cries Whose hideous sound lent thunder to the skies , They rush'd upon the Shepheards , who prepar'd For all incounters , stood upon their guard , And with their hooks , which sometimes us'd to catch The tender Lambs and bleating Ewes , they watch To meet their blows , and strength with strength repel ; All strook together , yet not one blow fell In vain to th' ground ; the sweat and purple blood That trickled from them , dim'd their sights , yet stood The fight in equall ballance ; now the Swaines , And then the Wood-men had the odds ; their paines Seem'd not to make 'em wearie ; these did fight Spur'd on by lust , and these in justice right . Now 'gan they grapple , and with all their force Striv'd to oerthrow each other ; no remorse Of their own harms , could move their angrie minds To come to parley : furie when it blinds Our soules , is such a passion ; not the rage Of hungrie Indian Lyons , when they wage With rav'nous Leopards battell for their prey , Was like to theirs ; fierce Bears and Tygers may Be held as mild ; the Brittish Mastiffes sight With his couragious Irish opposite , The Dragon arm'd with plates of strongest Male , Against Ioves Bird ; the Sword-sish and the Whale Were models of this combate ; till at length , Might overcame , Vertue gave place to Strength : The Shepheards breathlesse were ; their angrie foes Wax'd more couragious , and did seek to close With their half-vanquish'd enemies : as a Steed Who having run with over-hastie speed Most of his Race , does , ere it fully end , Tire ; so the Shepheards who did rashly spend Their spirits at the entrance of the Fray , Ere it was done , had none to spend , yet they With courage held the Fight up , till by force Mastred , they fell , each with a wounded Corse Striking the earth now when they could no more Strike their inhumane foes . The savage Bore That in revenge wrathfull 〈◊〉 sent To spoile the Chaledonian Continent , When he had drawn the valiant Dardans blood , Could not triumph more ; they insulting stood Like to so many Goshawks ore their prey , Ore the poor Swains ; what then could Sylvia , ( So hight the Nymph ) expect , but present death , Or ravishment ? Which to prevent , her breath She sought to stop with her gold 〈◊〉 haire , But when it came into her lips , it there Amorously hung , spight of her force , to suck Myriads of melting kisses ; see the luck Heavens had ordain'd to save her ; with her cries And with the late-fought Combats Ecchoing noise , Drawn to the place , arriv'd an armed Knight , Who to avoid the fearfull tempests might , Had tane the Woods for shelter , just as they With barbarous outcries were about to slay The honest Shepheards , whom when he did view In that apparant perill , straight he flew Upon the lustful butchers , and his Sword Dealt deathfull dole amongst 'em ; they afford Him blowes for blowes , and dangerous fight maintain Till his strong hand victoriously had slain The fiercest of them ; then the other paire , Like to a stone that through the subtle Ayre Flies from a forcing sling , so fast they fled Into the Wood ; the Shepheards almost dead With wounds and bruises , joyfully did rise To thank their Saviour , who had cast his eyes Up to the Tree where lovely Sylvia stood , Bound like the Tyrian Damsell when the stood Sent up a Whale to eat her . This strange sight So full of wonder , filld the courteous Knight With admiration , and desire to know , Both who shee was , and who had us'd her so . And hasting forward to the holy tree , He gently 'gan to loose her bands ; but shee Who in th' Idea of her frighted thought Saw nothing but her foes , imagin'd nought But present Rape , gave up her Virgin breath From whence shee had it , and enrioh'd foul Death With the most precious flavour : not the Boy Now turn'd a Flow'r whom , Phoebus did destroy With his Sledg-casting ; nor Orithia's faire Sister , sweet Proeris , whom the name of Ayre Brought to her ruine ; nor Ioves beam burn'd Love In death appear'd so amorous . As a Dove Trus'd by a Falcon gently takes the stroke Of Death ; so did shee . The broad spreading Oak Erst proud of its faire Captive , sadly now Began lament , and mournfully to bow His aged head , to kisse her liveliest Corse ; The Wood-nymphs mournfull plaints did even enforce The neighb'ring Rocks to weep ; our Shepheards tears Watred the earth : in her sad death , appeares His Kala's losse to Damon , so that hee Wept both for hers , and Kala's Tragedie . But all their woes were nothing to the plight . Of sorrow seizing on the gentle Knight , When hee beheld her perish ; that his griefe Made him forget to tender quick reliefe Unto her fainting ; yet at last he ran Unto a neighb'ring fountaine , and began To catch the glyding water , which did meet His labouring hands , thence leapt into her sweet Though dying face , shee only in a swound , And not quite dead ; the saving water found Means to recure her , ( for t is sure the 〈◊〉 Of suddain traunces , which possesse a Creature Only when Feate does call from every part The lively blood to aid the fainting heart , Agen to vanish , when the blood is call'd By some quick motion to the parts appall'd For want of it ; ) Shee therefore in this guise Handled , unseald ( forthwith ) her death-clos'd eyes . As the transplendent Guider of the Day Obscur'd by clouds , more brightly does display , When h'ath ortcome them , his all-piercing light ; So did the blazing Comets of her sight Dart now more lucid clearnesse , every beame Of it deserving to have been a Theame For all the Poets . Not the Cyprian Rose Or silver Lillie , what can we suppose , Was like her Cheeks ? Hyperbolies must needs Fail to expresse that which it selfe exceeds All Metaphors : in them the blushing Red Striv'd to appeare , and back unwilling fled To give that place to the more pow'rfull White : Judge but what fulnesse of sincere delight Rapt the late fearfull Knight when he did see Her live agen ; hee hasted to the tree , And kindly chear'd her tim'rous heart ; the Maid Could scarce beleeve her ears or eyes , which paid Joy a most welcome tribute ; to unbind Her cords he hasted , while the mossie rind Of the broad spreading tree did strive to cleave To her fair skin , as if 't had rather leave Its mother Oak than her ; beneath the shade Of a thick Fig-tree she before had laid Her light silk garments , which the Shepheards brought To cloath her with ; the loving vestures sought To flie unto her bodie ; soon as shee Had put them on , with blushing modestie Shee thank'd the noble Champion and the Swains , Who for her sake had undergone such pains As merited requitall ; but a look From her sweet self both Knight and Shepheards took As a reward sufficient ; they would faine Have ask'd her name , but durst not ; how shee came To be distrest so ; but lest shee should chance With thought of it to fall into a Trance Agen , they would not crave 't ; She humbly prayed The Knight and Shepheards , she might be conveyd By them home to her Fathers house , that stood Under the covert of that lucklesse Wood Where shee had run such danger : Straight way they Leaving the cursed Villaines corps a prey To meager Wolves , the leavie Grove forsook ; Shee being their Guid , a beaten Path they took Into a Meadow , where the Flowers did strive With eager motion , which should first revive From their late drowning , that they so might meet With dewie lips the beauteous Virgins feet . Caetera desant . FINIS .