Castara the third edition. Corrected and augmented. Habington, William, 1605-1654. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A02453 of text S103611 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 12585). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 228 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 131 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A02453 STC 12585 ESTC S103611 99839360 99839360 3769 2240880499

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A02453) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 3769) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 1175:05) Castara the third edition. Corrected and augmented. Habington, William, 1605-1654. Marshall, William, fl. 1617-1650, engraver. [22], 228 p. Printed by T. Cotes, for Will. Cooke: and are to be sold at his shop neere Fernivals-Inne Gate in Holburne, London : 1640. The author, William Habington, is named on A9r. In verse. With an additional engraved title page signed "W.M. sculpsit", i.e. William Marshall. The second part has separate title page dated 1639; the third part has separate dated title page; pagination and register are continuous. Reproduction of the original in Yale University. Library. eng eebo Castara: the third edition. Corrected and augmented. Habington, William, 1640 262 37598 394 0 0 0 1 2 267.04 F The rate of 267.04 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the F category of texts with 100 or more defects per 10,000 words. 2004-02 Assigned for keying and markup 2004-03 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2004-05 Sampled and proofread 2004-05 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2004-07 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

CASTARA

LONDON . Printed for Will : Cooke , & are sold at his shop at Furnivals Inne Gate , in Holborne . 1640.

W. M. sculpsit

CASTARA :

— Carmina non prius Audita , Musarum sacerdos Virginibus . —

The third Edition . Corrected and augmented

LONDON Printed by T. Cotes , for Will . Cooke : and are to be sold at his Shop neere Fernivals-Inne Gate in Holburne . 1640.

The Author .

THe Presse hath gathered into one , what fancie had scattered in many loose papers . To write this , love stole some houres from businēsse , and my more serious study . For though Poetry may challenge if not priority , yet equality with the best Sciences , both for antiquity and worth ; I never set so high a rate upon it , as to give my selfe entirely up to its devotion . It hath too much ayre , and ( if without offence to our next transmarine neighbour , ) wantons too much according to the French garbe . And when it is wholly imployed in the soft straines of love , his soule who entertaines it , loseth much of that strength which should confirme him man . The nerves of judgement are weakned most by its dalliance , and when woman , ( I meane onely as she is externally faire ) is the supreme object of wit , we soone degenerate into effeminacy . For the religion of fancie declines into a mad superstition , when it adores that Idoll which is not secure from age and sicknesse . Of such heathens , our times afford us a pittyed multitude , who can give no nobler testimony of twenty yeares imployment , then some loose coppies of lust happily exprest . Yet these the common people of wit blow up with their breath of praise , and honour with the Sacred name of Poets : To which as I beleeve they can never have any just claime , so shall I not dare by this essay to lay any title , since more sweate and oyle he must spend , who shall arrogate so excellent an attribute . Yet if the innocency of a chaste Muse shall bee more acceptable , and weigh heavier in the ballance of esteeme , than a fame , begot in adultery of study ; I doubt I shall leave them no hope of competition . For how unhappie soever I may be in the elocution , I am sure the Theame is worthy enough . In all those flames in which I burnt , I never felt a wanton heate , nor was my invention ever sinister from the straite way of chastity . And when love builds upon that rocke , it may safely contemne the battery of the waves , and threatnings of the wind . Since time , that makes a mockery of the firmest structures shall it selfe be ●umated , before that be demolisht . Thus was the foundation layd . And though my eye in its survey , was satisfied , even to curiosity , yet did not my search rest there . The Alabaster , Ivory , Porphir , Iet , that lent an admirable beauty to the outward building , entertained me with but a halfe pleasure , since they stood there onely to make sport for ruine . But when my soule grew acquainted with the owner of that mansion ; I sound that Oratory was dombe when it began to speake her , and wonder ( which must necessarily seize the best at that time ) a lethargie , that dulled too much the faculties of the minde , onely fit to busie themselves in discoursing her perfections , Wisdome , I encounter'd there , that could not spend it selfe since it affected silence , attentive onely to instructions , as if all her sences had beene contracted into hearing : Innocencie , so not vitiated by conversation with the world , that the subtile witted of her sex , would have tearm'd it ignorance : Wit , which seated it selfe most in the apprehension , and if not inforc't by good manners , would scarce have gain'd the name of affability . Modesty , so timorous , that it represented a besieg'd Citty , standing watchfully upon her guard , strongest in the loyalty to her Prince . In a word , all those vertues which should restore woman to her primitive state of beauty , fully adorn'd her . But I shall be censur'd , in labouring to come nigh the truth , guilty of an indiscreet Rhetoricke . However such I fancied her , for to say shee is , or was such , were to play the Merchant , and boast too much the value of a lewell I possesse , but have no minde to part with . And though I appeare to strive against the streame of best wits , in erecti●g the selfe same Altar both to chastity and love ; I will fo● once adventure to doe well , without a president . Nor if my rigid friend question superciliously the setting forth of these Poems , will I excuse my selfe ( though justly perhaps I might ) that importunity prevail'd , and cleere judgements advis'd : This onely ● dare say , that if they are not strangled with envie of the present , they may happily live in the not dislike of future times . For then partiality ceaseth , and vertue is without the idolatry of her clients , esteemed worthy honour . Nothing new is free from detraction , and when Princes alter customes even heavie to the subject , best ordinances are interpreted innovations . Had I slept in the silence of my acquaintance , and affected no study beyond that which the chase or field allowes , Poetry had then beene no scandall upon me , and the love of learning no suspition of ill husbandry . But what malice , begot in the Country upon ignorance , or in the City upon Criticisme , shall prepare against me , I am armed to endure . For as the face of vertue lookes faire without the adultery of Art , so fame needes no ayde from rumour to strengthen her selfe . If these lines want that courtship , ( I will not say flattery ) which insinuates it selfe into the favour of great men , best ; they partake of my modesty : If Satyre to win applause with the envious multitude ; they expresse my content , which maliceth none , the fruition of that , they esteeme happie . And if not too indulgent to what is my owne ; I thinke even these verses will have that proportion in the worlds opinion , that heaven hath allotted me in fortune ; not so high , as to be wondred at , nor so low as to be contemned .

To his best friend and Kinsman William Habington , Esquire . NOt in the silence of content and store Of private sweets ought thy Muse charme no more Then thy Castara's eare . 'T were wrong such gold Should not like Mines , ( poore nam'd to th●● ) behold It selfe a publike joy . Who her restraine , Make a close prisoner of a Soveraigne . Inlarge her then to triumph . While we'see Such worth in beauty , such desert in thee , Such mutuall flames betweene you both , as show How chastity , though yee , like love can glow , Yet stand a Virgin : How that full content By vertue is to soules united , lent , Which proves all wealth is poore all honours are But empty tit●es , h●ghest power but care , That quits not cost . Yet Heaven to Vertue kind , Hath given yo● plenty to ●●ffice a mi●de That knowes but temper . For beyond your state M●y be a pro●der , not a happier Fa●e . I Write not this in hope t' ●ncroach on fame , O● adde a greater lustre to your name . Bright in it selfe enough . We two are kn●wne To th' World , as to our selves , to be but one In blood as study : And my carefull love Did never action worth my name , approve , Which serv'd not thee . Nor did we ere cont●nd , But who should be best patt●r●e of a friend . Who read thee , praise thy fancie , and admire Thee burning with so high and pure a fire , As reaches heaven it selfe But I who know Thy soule religious to her ends , where grow No si●nes by art or custome , boldly can Stile thee more than good Poët , a good man . Then let thy temples shake off vul●ar bayes , Th' hast ●uilt an Altar which enshrines ●hy praise : And to the faith of after time commends Yee the best paire of lovers , us of friends . GEORGE TAL●OT .
A Mistris

IS the fairest treasure , the avarice of Love can covet ; and the onely white , at which he shootes his arrowes , nor while his aime is noble , can he ever hit upon repentance . She is chaste , for the devill enters the Idoll and gives the Oracle , when wantonnesse possesseth beauty , and wit maintaines it lawfull . She is as faire as Nature intended her , helpt perhaps to a more pleasing grace by the sweetnesse of education , not by the slight of Art . She is young , for a woman past the delicacie of her spring , may well move by vertue to respect , never by beauty to affection . Shee is innocent even from the knowledge of si●ne , for vice is too strong to be wrastled with , and gives her frailty the foyle . She is not proude , though the amorous youth interpret her modestie to that sence ; but in her vertue weares so much Majestie , lust dares not rebell , nor though masqued , under the pretence of love , capitulate with her . She entertaines not every parley offer'd , although the Articles pretended to her advantage : advice and her owne feares restraine her , and woman never owed ruine to too much caution . She glories not in the plurality of servants , a multitude of adorers heaven can onely challeng ; and it is impietie in her weakenesse to desire superstition from many . She is deafe to the whispers of love , and even on the marriage houre can breake off , without the least suspition of scandall , to the former liberty of her carriage . She avoydes a too neere conversation with man , and like the Parthian overcomes by flight . Her language is not copious but apposit , and she had rather suffer the reproach of being dull company , than have the title of Witty , with that of Bold and Wanton . In her carriage she is sober , and thinkes her youth expresseth life enough , without the giddy motion , fashion of late hath taken up . She danceth to the best applause but doates not on the vanity of it , nor licenceth an irregular meeting to vaunt the levity of her skill . She sings , but not perpetually , for she knowes , silence in woman is the most perswading oratory . She never arriv'd to so much familiarity with man as to know the demunitive of his name , and call him by it ; and she can show a competent favour : without yeelding her hand to his gripe . Shee never understood the language of a kisse , but at salutation , nor dares the Courtier use so much of his practised impudence as to offer the rape of it from her ; because chastity hath write it unlawfull , and her behaviour proclaimes it unwelcome . She is never sad , and yet not jiggish ; her conscience is cleere from guilt , and that secures her from sorrow . She is not passionately in love with poetry , because it softens the heart too much to love : but she likes the harmony in the Composition ; and the brave examples of vertue celebrated by it , she proposeth to her imitation . She is not vaine in the history of her gay kindred ●r acquaintance ; since vertue is often tenant ●o a cottage , and familiarity with greatnesse ( if worth be not transcendant above the title ) is but a glorious servitude , fooles onely are willing to suffer . She is not ambitious to be prais'd , and yet vallues death beneath infamy . And I le conclude , ( though the next sinod of Ladies condemne this character as an heresie broacht by a Precision ) that onely she who hath as great a share in vertue as in beauty , deserves a noble love to serve her , and a free Poesie to speake her .

To CASTARA , A Sacrifice . LET the chaste Phoenix from the flowry East , Bring the sweete treasure of her perfum'd nest , As incense to this Altar ▪ where the name Of my Castara's grav'd by th' hand of fame . Let purer Virgins , to redeeme the aire From loose infection , bring their zealous prayer , T' assist at this great feast : where they shall see , What rites Love offers up to Chastity . Let all the amorous Youth , whose faire desire Felt never warmth but from a noble fire , Bring hither their bright flâmes : which here shall shine As Tapers fixt about Custara's s●rine . While I the Priest , my untam'd heart , surprise , And in this Temple mak 't her sacrifice .
To CASTARA , Praying . I Saw Castara pray , and from the skie , A winged legion of bright Angel ▪ flie To catch his vowes , for feare her Vrgin prayer , Might chance to mingle with impurer aire . To vulgar eyes , the sacred truth I write , May seeme a fancie . But the Eagles sight Of Saints , and P●ets , miracles oft view , Which to dull Heretikes appeare untrue . Faire zeale begets such wonders . O divine And purest beauty , let me thee enshrine In my devoted soule , and from thy praise , T' enrich my garland , pluck religious Bayes . Shine thou the starre by which my thoughts shall move , Best subject of my pen , Queene of my love .
To Roses in the bosome of CASTARA , YEE blushing Virgins happie are In the chaste Nunn'ry of her brests , For hee 'd prophane so chaste a faire , Who ere should call them Cupids nests . Transplanted thus how bright yee grow , How rich a perfume doe yee yeeld ? In some close garden , Cowslips so Are sweeter then i th' open field . In those white Cloysters live secure From the rude blasts of wanton breath , Each houre more innocent and pure , Till you shall wither into death . Then that which living gave you roome , Your glorious sepulcher shall be . There wants no marble for a tombe , Whose brest hath marble beene to me .
To CASTARA , A Uow . BY those chaste lamps which yeeld a silent light , so the cold Vrnes of Virgins ; By that night , Which guilty of no crime , doth onely heare The Vowes of recluse Nu●s and th' Au'thrits prayer ; And by thy chaster selfe ; My fervent zeale Like mountaine y●e , which the North winds congeale , To purest Christall , feeles no wanton fire . But as the humble Pilgrim , ( whose desire Blest in Christs cottage view , by Angels hands , Transported from sad Bethlem , ) wondring stands At the great miracle So I at thee , Whose beauty is the shrine of chastity . Thus my bright Muse in a new orbe shall move , And even teach Religion how to love .
To CASTARA , Of his being in Love . WHere am I ? not in Heaven : for oh I feele The Stone of Sisiphus , Ixions wheele ; And all those tortures , Poets ( by their wine Made judges ) laid on Tant ●lus , are mine . Nor yet am I in hell ; for still I stand , Though giddy in my passion , on firme land . And still behold the seasons of the yeare , Springs in my hope , and Winters in my feare . And sure I 'me 'bove the earth , F●r th' highest star Shoots beames , but dim , to what Castara's are , And in her sight and favour I even shine In a bright orbe beyond the Christalline . If then Castara I in Heaven nor move , Nor Earth , nor Hell ; where am I but in Love ?
To my honoured Friend , Mr. E. P. NOt still i th' shine of Kings . Thou dost retire Sometime to th' Holy shade , where the chaste quire Of Muses doth the stubborne Panther awe , And give the wildenesse of ●is nature law . The wind his chariot stops : Th' attentive rocke The rigor doth of its creation mocke , And gently melts away : Argus to heare The musicke , turnes each eye into an eare . To welcome thee , Endy●ion , glorious they Triumph to force th●se creatures disobey What nature hath enacted . But no charme The Muses have these monsters can disarme Of their in nated rage : No spell can tame The North-winds fury , but Castara's name . Climbe yonder forked hill , and see if there I th' barke of every Daphne , not appeare Castara written ; And so markt by me , How great a Prophet growes each Virgin tree ? Lie downe , and listen what the sacred spring In her harmonious murmures , strives to sing To th' neighb'ring banke , ere her loose waters erre Through common channels ; sings she not of her ? Behold yond' violet , which such honour gaines , That growing but to emulate her veines , It 's azur'd like the skie : when she doth bow T' invoke Castara , heaven perfumes her vow . The trees the water , and the flowers adore The Deity of her s●x , and through each pore Breath forth her glories . But unquiet love To make thy passions so uncourtly prove , As if all eares should heare her praise alone . Now listen thou ; Edymion sings his owne .
To CASTARA . DOe not their prophane Orgies heare , Who but to wealth no al●ars reare . The soule 's oft poys'ned through the eare . Castara rather seeke to dwell I th' silence of a private cell . Ri●h discontent's a glorious hell . Yet Hi●dlip doth not want extent Of roome ( though not magnificent ) To give free welcome to content . There shalt thou see the earely Spring , That wealthy stocke of nature bring , Of which the Sybils bookes did sing . From fruitlesse Palmes shall honey flow , An● ba●ren Winter Harvest show , While Lillies in his bosome grow , No North winde shall the corne infest , But th● soft spirit of the East , Our sent with perfum'd banquets feast . A S●tyre here and there shall trip , In hope to purchase leave to sip Sweete Nectar from a Fairies lip . The Nimphs with quivers shall adorne Then active sides and rouse the morne With the shrill musicke of their horne . Waken●d with which , and viewing thee , Faire Daphne her faire selfe shall free , From the chaste prison of a tree : And with Nar●lssu● ( to thy face Who humbly will ascribe all grace ) Shall once againe pursue the chase . So they whose wisdome did discusse Of these as fictions : shall in us Finde , they were more then fabulous .
To CASTARA , Softly singing to her selfe . SIng forth sweete Cherubin ( for we have choice Of reasons in thy beauty and thy voyce , To name thee so , and scarce appeare prophane ) Sing forth , that while the orbs celestiall straine To eccho thy sweete note , our humane eares May then receive the Musicke of the Spheares . But yet take heede , lest if the Swans of Thames , That adde harmonious pleasure to the streames , O th' sudden heare thy well-divided breath , Should listen , and in silence welcome death : And ravisht Nightingales , striving too high To ●each thee , in the emulation dye . And thus there will be left no bird to sing Farewell to th' Waters , welcome to the Spring .
To a Wanton . IN vaine faire sorcer●sse , thy eyes speake charmes , In ●aine thou mak'st loose circles with thy armes . I 'me 'bove thy spels No magicke him can move , In whom Castara hath inspir'd her love . As she , keepe thou strict cent'nell o're thy eare , Lest it the whispers of sof● Courtiers heare ; Reade not his raptures , whose invention must Write journey worke , both for his Patrons lust . And his owne plush : let no admirer feast His eye o th' n●ked banquet of thy brest . If this faire president , nor yet my w●nt Of love , to answer thine , make thee recant Thy sorc'ries ; Pity shall to justice t●rne , And judge thee ▪ witch , in thy owne flames to burne .
To the Honourable my much honoured friend , R. B. Esquire . WHile you dare trust the loudest ▪ tongue of fame , The zeale you beare your Mist●esse to proclaim ▪ To th' talking world : I in the silenst grove , Scarce to my selfe dare whisper that I lo●e Thee , titles Brud'nell , riches thee adorne , And vigorous youth to vice not headlong borne By th' tide of custome : Which I value more Th●n what blind superstitious fooles adore , Who greatn●ss● in the chaire of bliss● enthrone , Greatnesse we borrow , Ver●ue is o●r owne . In thy attempt be prosperou● , and when ere Thou shalt prefix the houre ; May Hym●n weare His b●ightest robe ; where some fam'd Persian shall Worke by the wonder of her needle all The nup●i●ll joyes ; which ( if we Poets be True Propheis ) bounteous heaven designes fo● thee . I envie not , but glory in thy fate , While in the narrow limits of my state I b●und my hopes Which if Castara daigne Once to entitle he●s ; the wealthiest graine My earth , untild shall beare ; my trees shall grone Vnder their frui●full burthen , and at one And the same season ▪ Nature forth shall bring Riches of A●tumne , pleasures of the Spring . But digge and thou shalt finde a purer Mine Then th' In●ians boast : Taste of this generous Vine , And her blood sweeter will than Nectar prove , Such miracles wait on a noble love . B●t should she scorne my suite , I 'le ●rend that path Which none but some sad Fairy beaten hath . There force wrong'd Philomel , hearing my m●ne , To ●igh my greater griefes , forget her owne .
To CASTARA , Inquiring why I loved her . WHy doth the stubborne iron prove So gentle to th ▪ magnetique stone ? How know you that the orbs doe move ; With musicke too ? since heard of none ? And I will answer why I love . 'T is not thy vertues , each a starre Which in thy soules bright spheare doe shine , Shooting their beauties from a farre , To make each gazers heart like thine ; Our vertues often Meteo●s are . 'T is not thy face . I cannot spie , When Poëts weepe some Virgins death , That Cupid wantons in her eye , Or perfumes vapour from her breath , And 'mongst the dead thou once must lie . Nor is 't thy birth . For I was ne're So vaine as in that to delight : Which ballance it ▪ no weight doth beare , Nor yet 〈◊〉 obj●ct to the sigh● , But onely fils the vulgar eare . Nor yet thy fortunes : Since I know They in their motion like the Sea : Ebbe from the good , to the impious flow : And so in flattery betray , That raising they but overthrow . And yet these attributes might prove Fuell enough t' enflame desire ; But there was something from above , Shot without reasons guide , this fire . I know , yet know not , why I love .
To CASTARA , Looking upon him . TRansfix me with that flaming dart , I●h ' eye , or brest or any part , So thou , Ca●ta●a , spare my heart . The cold Cym●rian by th●t bright Warm● wound ▪ i th' darknesse of his night , Might both recover heat , and light . The rugged Scythian gently move , I th' whispering shadow of some gro●e , That 's consecrate to sportive Love . December see the Prim rose grow , The Rivers in soft murmurs flow , And from his head shake off h●s snow . And crooked age might feele againe Those heates of which youth did complaine , While fresh blood swels each withered veyne . For the bright lustre of thy eyes ▪ Which but ●o warme them would suffice , May burne me to a s●crifice .
To the right honourable the Countesse of Ar. WIng'd with delight ( yet such as still doth beare Chast vertues stamp ) those Children of the yeere The dayes , hast nimbly ; and while as they flie , Each of them with their predecessors vie , Which yeelds most pleasure ; you to them d●spence , What Time lost with his cradle , innocence . So ● ( if fancie not delude my fight , ) See often the pale monarch of tho night , Diana , 'mong her nimphs . For every quire Of vulgar starres , who lend their weaker fire To conquer the nights chilnesse , with their Queene , In harmelesse revels tread the happy greene . But I who am proserib'd by tyrant love , Seeke out a silent exile in some grove , Where nought except a solitary Spring , Was ever heard , to which the Nimphs did sing Narcissus obsequies : For onely there Is mufique apt to catch an am'rous eare ▪ Castara ! oh my heart ! How great a flame Did even shoot into me with her name ? Castara hath betray'd me to a zeale Which thus distracts my hopes . Flints may conceale In their cold veynes a fire . But I whose heart By Love 's dissolv'd , ne're practis'd that cold art . But truce thou warring passion , for I 'le now ▪ Madam to you addresse this solemne vow . By Vertue and your selfe ( best friends ) I finde In the interiour province of your minde Such government : That if great men obey ▪ Th● example of your order , they will sway ▪ Without reproofe ▪ for onely you unite Honour with sweetenesse , vertue with delight .
Vpon CASTARA'S frowne or smile . LEarned shade of Tycho Brache , who to us , The stars propheticke language didst impart , And even in life their mysteries discusse : Castara hath o'rethrowne thy strongest ar● . When custome struggles from her beaten path , Then accidents must needs uncertaine be , For if Castara smile ; though winter hath Lock't up the rivers : Summer's warme in me . And Flora by the miracle reviv'd , Do●h ●ven at her owne beauty wondring stand , But should she frowne , the Northerne wind arriv'd , In ●idst of Summer , leads his frozen band : Which doth to y●e my youthfull blood congeale , Yet in the midst of yee , still flames my zeale .
In CASTARA , All fortunes . YE glorious wits , who finde then Parian stone , A nobler quarry to build trophies on , Purchast 'gainst conquer'd time , go court loud fame , He wins it , who but sings Castara's name ? Aspiring soules , who grow but in a Spring , Forc't by the warmth of some indulgent King : Know if Castara smile : I dwell in it , And vie for glory with the Favourit . Ye sonnes of avarice , who but to sha●e Vncertaine treasure with a certaine care . Tempt death in th' horrid Ocean : I , when ere I but approach her , find the Indies there . Heaven brightest Saint , kinde to my vowes made thee Of all ambition courts , th' Epitome .
Vpon thought Castara may dye . IF she should dye , ( as well suspect we may , A body so compact should ne're decay ) Her brighter soule would in the Moone inspire More chastity , in dimmer starres more fire . You twins of Laeda ( as your parents are In their wild lusts ) may grow irregular Now in your motion : for the marriner Henceforth shall onely stee●e his course by her . And when the zeale of after time shall spie Her uncorrup● i th' happy marble lie ; The roses in her checkes unwithered , 'T will turne to love , and dote upon the dead . For he who did to her in life dispence A heaven , will banish all corruption thence .
Time to the moments , on sight of CASTARA . YOu younger children of your father stay , Swift flying moments ( which divide the day And with your number measure out the yeare In various seasons ) stay and wonder here . For since my cradle , I so bright a grace Ne're saw , as you s●e in Castara's face ; Whom nature to revenge some youthfull crime Would never frame , till age had weakened Time . Else spight of fate , in some faire forme of clay My youth I de ▪ bodied , throwne my sythe away , And broke my glasse . But since that cannot be , I 'le punish Nature for her injurie . On nimble moments in your journey flie , Castara shall like me , grow old , and die .
To a friend inquiring her name , whom he loved . FOnd Love himselfe hopes to disguise From view , if he but covered lies , I th' veile of my transparent eyes . Though in a smile himselfe he hide , Or in a sigh , thou art so tride In all his arts , hee 'le be discride . I must conf●sse ( Deare friend ) my flame , Whose boasts Castara so doth tame , That not thy faith , shall ●now her n●me . T were prophanation of my zeale , If but abroad one whisper steale , They love betray who him reveale . In a darke cave which never eye Could by his subtlest ra● descry , It doth like a rich minerall lye . Which if she with her fl●me refine , I 'de force it from that obscure Mine , And then it like pure gold should shine .
A Dialogue betweene HOPE and FEARE . FEARE , CHecke thy forward thoughts and know Hymen onely joynes their hands ; Who with even paces goe , Shee in gold , he rich in lands . HOPE . But Castara's purer fire , When it meetes a noble flame : Shuns the smoke of such desire , Ioynes with love , and burnes the same . FEARE . Yet obedience must prevaile , They who o're her actions sway : Would have her in th' Ocean saile , And contemne t●y narrow sea . HOPE Parents lawes must beare no weight When they h●ppinesse pr●v●nt . And our sea is not so streight , But it roome hath for content . FEARE . Thousand hearts as victims stand , At the Altar of her eyes . And will partiall she command , Onely thine for sacrifice ? HOPE . Thousand victims must returne ; Shee the purest will designe : Choose Castara which shall burne , Choose the purest , that is , mine .
To CVPID , Vpon a dimple in CASTARA'S cheeke . NImble boy in thy warme flight , What cold tyrant dimm'd thy sight ? Hadst thou eyes to see my faire , Thou wouldst sigh thy selfe to ayre : Fearing to create this one , Nature had herselfe undone . But if you when this you heare Fall downe murdered through your eare , Begge of Iove that you may have In her cheeke a dimpled grave . Lilly , Rose , and Violet , Shall the perfum'd Hearse beset While a beauteous sheet of Lawne , O're the wanton corps is drawne : And all lovers use this breath ; " Here lies Cupid blest in death .
Vpon CVPID'S death and buriall in CASTARA'S cheeke . CUpids dead . Who would not dye , To be interr'd so neere , her eye ? Who would feare the sword , to have Such an Alabaster grave ? O're which two bright ●apers burne , To give light to the beauteous Vine . At the first Castara smil'd , Thinking Cupid her beguil'd , Onely co●nterfeiting death ▪ But when she perceiv'd his breath Quite expir'd : the mournefull Girle , To ento●be the boy in Pearle , Wept so long ; till pittious Iove , From the ashes of this Love , Made ten thousand Cupids rise , But confin'd them to her eyes : Where they yet , to shew they lacke No due sorrow , still we are blacke . But the blacks so glorious are Which they mou●ne in , that the faire Quires of starres , looke pale and ●●et , Seeing themselves out shin'd by jet .
To Fame . FLy on thy swiftest wing , ambitious Fame , And speake to the cold North Castara's name : Which very breath will , like the East wind , bring , The temp'rate warmth , and musicke of the Spring . Then from the Articke to th' Antarticke Pole , Haste nimbly and inspire a gentler soule , By naming her , ●th' torrid South ; that he May milde as Zephor●● coole whispers be . Nor let the West where heaven already joynes The vastest Empire , and the wealthiest Mines , Nor th' East in pleasures wanton , her condemne , For not distributing her gifts on them . For she with want would have her bounty meete . Loves noble charity is so discreete .
A Dialogue betweene ARAPHILL and CASTARA : ARAPH . DOst not thou Castara read Am'rous volumes in my eyes ? Doth not every motion plead What I 'de shew , and yet disguise ? Sences act each others part . Eyes , as tongues , reveale the heart . CAST. I saw love as lightning breake From thy eyes , and was content Oft to heare thy silence speake . Silent love is eloquent . So the sence of learning heares , The dumbe musicke of the Spheares . ARAPH . Then there 's mercy in your kinde , Listning to an unfain'd love . Or strives he to tame the wind , Who would your compassion move ? No y' are pittious as y 're faire . Heaven relents , o'recome by prayer . CAST. But loose man too prodigall Is in the expence of vowes ; And thinks to him kingdomes fall When the heart of woman bowes : Frailty to your armes may yeeld ; Who resists you wins the field . ARAPH . Triumph not to see me bleede , Let the Bore cha●ed from his den , On the wounds of mankinde feede , Your soft sexe should pitty men . Malice well may practise Art , Love hath a transparent heart . CAST. Yet is love all one deceit , A warme fr●st , a frozen fire . She within her selfe is great , Who is s●ave to no desire ▪ Let youth act , and age advise , And then love may finde his eyes . ARAPH . Hymens torch yeelds a dim light , When ambition joynes our hands , A proud day , but mournefull night , She sustaines , who marries lands . Wealth slaves man , but for their Ore , Th' Indians had beene free , though poore . CAST. And yet wealth the fuell is Which maintaines the nuptiallfire , And in honour there 's a blisse , Th' are immortall who aspire . But truth sayes no joyes are sweete , But where hearts united meete . ARAPH . Roses breath not such a sent , To persume the neighb'ring groves ; As when you affirme content , In no spheare of glory moves . Glory narrow soules combines : Noble hearts Love onely joynes .
To CASTARA , Intending a journey into the Countrey . WHy haste you hence Castara ? can the earth , Aglorious mother , in her ●lowry birth , Shew Lillies like thy brow ? Can she disclose In emulation of thy cheeke , a Rose , Sweete as thy blush ; upon thy selfe then set Iust value , and scorne it thy counterfeit . The Spring 's still with thee ; But perhaps the field , Not warm'd with thy approach , wants force to yeeld Her tribute to the Plough ; O rather let Th' ingratefull earth for ever be in debt To th' hope of sweating industry , than we Should starve with cold , who have no heat but thee . Nor feare the publike good . Thy eyes can give A life to all , who can deserve to live .
Vpon CASTARA'S departure . I Am engag'd to sorrow , and my heart Feeles a distracted rage . Though you depart And leave me to my feares ; let love in spite Of absence , our divided soules unite . But you must goe . The melancholy Doves Draw Venus chariot hence : The sportive Loves Which wont to wanton here hence with you flye , And like false friends forsake me when I dye . For but a walking tombe , what can he be ; Whose best of life is forc't to part with thee ?
To CASTARA , Vpon a trembling kisse at departure . TH' Arabian wind , whose breathing gently blows Purple to th' Violet , blushes to the Rose , Did never yeeld ●n odour rich as this . Why are you then so thrifty of a kisse , Authoriz'd even by custome ? Why doth feare So tremble on your lip , my lip being neare ? Thinke you I parting with so sad a zeale , Will act so blacke a mischiefe , as to steale Thy Roses thence ? And they , by this device , Transplanted : somewhere else force Paradice ? Or else you feare , lest you , should my heart skip Vp to my mouth , t' incounter with your lip , Might rob me of it : and be judg'd in this , T' have Iudas like betraid me with a kisse .
In CASTARA , Looking backe at her departing . LOoke backe Castara . From thy eye Let yet more flaming arrowes flye : To live is thus to burne and dye . For what might glorious hope desire , But that thy selfe , as I expire , Should bring both death and funerall fire ? Distracted Love , shall grieve to see Such zeale in death : For feare lest he Himselfe , should be consum'd in me . And gathering up my ashes , weepe , That in his teares he then may steepe : And thus embâlm'd , as reliques , keepe . Thithe● let lovers pilgrims turne , And the loose flames in which they burne , Give up a● off●rings to my Vrne . That them the vertue of my shrine , By miracle so long refine ; Till they prove innocent as mine .
Vpon CASTARA'S absence . T' Is madnesse to give Physicke to the dead ; Then leave me friends : Yet haply you 'd here read A lecture ; but I 'le not dissected be , T' instruct your Art by my anatomie . But still you trust your sense , sweare you discry No difference in me . All 's deceit o th' eye , Some spirit hath a body fram'd in th' ay●e , Like mine , which he doth to delude you weare : Else heaven by miracle makes me survive My selfe , to keepe in me poore Love alive . But I am dead , yet l●t none question where My best part rests , and with a sigh or teare , Prophane ●he Pompe , when they my corps interre , My soule impar●dis'd , for 't is with her .
To CASTARA , Complaining her absence in the Country . THe lesser people of the ayre conspire To keepe thee from me . Philomel with higher And sweeter note● , wooes thee to weepe her rape , Which would appease the gods & change her shape . The early Larke , preferring 'fore soft rest O●sequious duty ▪ leaves his downy nest , And doth to thee harmoni●us tribute , pay ; Expecting from thy eyes the breake of day . From which the Owle is frighted , and doth rove ( As never having felt the warmth of love . ) In uncouth vaults , and the chill shades of night , Not biding the bright lustre of thy ●ight . With him my fate agree● . Not viewing thee I 'me lost in mists , at best , but meteors see .
To THAMES . SWift in thy wa●ry chariot , courteous Thames , Hast by the happy error of thy streames , To kisse the banks of Marlow , which doth show Fai●e Scymors , and beyond that never flow . Then summon all thy Swans , that who did give Musicke to death , may henceforth sing , and live , For my Castara . She can life restore , Or quicken them who had no life before . How should the Poplar else the Pine provoke , The stately Cedar challenge the rude Oke To dance at sight of her ? They have no sense From nature given , but by her influence . If Orpheus did those senslesse creatures move , He was a Prophet , and fore sang my love .
To the right honourable the Earle of Shrewes . MY Muse ( great Lord ) when last you heard her sing Did to your Vncles Vrne , her off'rings bring : And if to fame I may give faith , your eares Delighted in the musicke of her teares . That was her debt to vertue . And when e're She her bright head among the clouds shall reare , And adde to th' wondring heavens a new flame , Shee 'le celebrate the Genius of your name . Wilde with another ra●e , inspir'd by love , She charmes the Myrtles of the Idalian grove . And while she gives the Cyprian stormes a law , Those wanton Doves which Cyther●ia draw . Through th' am'rous ayre : Admire what power doth sway The Ocean , and arrest them in their way . She sings Castara ●hen ▪ O' she more bright , Than is the Starry Senate of the night ; Who in their motion did like straglers erre , Cause they deriv'd no influence from her , Who 's constant as she 's chaste . The Sunne hath beene Clad like a neighb'ring shepheard often seene To hunt those Dales , in hope then Daphnes , there To see a brighter face . Th' Astrologer In th' interim dyed , whose proud Art could not show Whence that Ecclipse did on the sudden grow . A wanton Satyre eager in the chase Of some faire Nimph , beheld Castara's face , And left his loose pursuite ; who while he ey'd , Vnchastely , such a beauty , glorified With ●uch a vertue ; by heavens great commands , Turn'd marble , and there yet a Statue stands . As Poet thus . But as a Christian now , And by my zeale to you ( my Lord ) I vow , She doth a flame so pure and sacred move ; In me imp ety 't were not to love .
To CVPID . Wishing a speedy passage to CASTARA . THank ▪ es Cupid , but the Coach of Venus moves For me too slow , drawne but by lazie Doves . I ▪ lest my journey a delay should finde , Will leape into the chari●t of the wind . Swift as the flight of lightning through the ayre , Hee 'le hurry me till I approach the faire , B●t unkinde Seymors . Thus he will proclaime , What tribute winds owe to Castara's name . Viewing this prodigie , astonisht they , Who first acc●sse deny'd me , will obey , With feare what love comm●nds : Yet c●nsure me As guilty of the blackest ●or●ery . But after to my wishes m●●de● prov●● When they know this the miracl● 〈◊〉 l●ve ▪
To CAS●A●● . Of ●o●e . HOw f 〈…〉 And ore th' obedient elements command . Hee 's lame as he is blinde , for here I stand Fixt as the earth . Throw then this Idoll downe Yee lovers who first made it ; which can frowne Or smile but as you please . But I 'me untame In rage . Castara call thou on his name , And though hee 'le not beare up my vowes to thee , Hee 'le triumph to bring downe my Saint to me .
To the Spring , Vpon the uncertainty of CASTARA'S abode . FAire Mistresse of the earth , with garlands crown'd Rise , by a lovers charme , from the p●rtcht ground , And shew thy flowry wealth : that she . where ere Her starres shall guide her , meete thy beauties there . Should she to the cold Northerne climates goe , Force thy aff●ighted Lillies there to grow , Th● Roses in those gelid field● t' appeare , She absent I have al● their Winter here . Or if to th' ●orrid Zone ●er way she bend , Her the coole breathing of Favonius lend , Thither command the birds to bring their quires , That Zone is temp'rate I have all his fires . Attend her , courteous Spring , though we should here Lose by it all the treasures of the yee●e .
To Reason , Vpon CASTARA'S absence . WIth your calme pre●epts goe , and lay a storme In some brest flegma●icke which would conforme Her life to your cold lawes : In va●ne y'●ngage Your selfe on me . I will obey my rage . Shee 's gone , and I am ●ost . Some unknowne grove I 'le finde , whereby the miracle of Love I 'le turne t' a fountaine , and divide the yeere , By numbring every moment with a teare ▪ Where if Castara ( to avoyd the beames O th' n●igh'bring Sun ) shall wandring meete my streames . And tasting hope her t●irst alaid shall be , Shee 'le feele a sudden flame , and burne like me : And thus distracted cry . Tell me thou cleere , But treach'rous Fount , what lover 's coffin'd here ?
An answere to CASTARA'S question . T' Is I Castara , who when thou wert gone , Did freeze into this melancholly stone , To weepe the minutes of thy absence . Where Can greefe have freer scope to mourne than here ? The Larke here practiseth a sweeter straine , Aurora's early blush to entertaine , And having too deepe tasted of these streames , He loves , and amorously courts her beames . The courteous turtle with a wandring zeale , Saw how to stone I did my selfe congeale , And murm'ring askt what power this change did move , The language of my waters whispered , Love . And thus transform'd I le stand , till I shall see , That heart so ston'd and frozen , thaw'd in thee .
To CASTARA , Vpon the disguising his affection . PRonounce me guilty of a Blacker crime , Then e're in the Large volume writ by Time , The sad Historian reades , if not my Art Dissembles love , to veile an am'rous heart , For when the zealous anger of my friend Checkes my unusuall sadnesse : I pretend To study vertue , which indeede I doe , He must court vertue who aspires to you . Or that some friend is dead and then a teare , A sigh or groane steales from me : for I feare Lest death with love hath strooke my heart , and all These sorrowes usher but its funerall . Which should revive , should there you a mourner ▪ be , And force a nuptiall in an obsequie .
To the honourable my honoured kinsman Mr. G. T. THrice hath the pale-fac'd Empresse of the night , ●ent in her chaste increase h●r borrowed light , To guide the vowing Marriner : since mute Talbot th' ast beene , too slothfull to salute Thy exil'd servant Labour not t' excuse This dull neglect : Love never wants a Muse. When thunder summons from eternall sleepe Th' imprison'd ghosts ▪ & spreads o th' frighted deepe A veile of darknesse ; penitent to be I may forget , yet still remember thee , Next to my faire , under whose eye-lids move , In nimble measures beauty , wit , and love . Nor thinke Castara ( though the sexe be fraile , And ever like uncertaine vessels saile On th' ocean of their passions ; while each wind , Triumphs to see their more uncertaine mind , ) Can be induc't to alter . Every starre May in its motion grow irregular ; The Sunne forget to yeeld his welcome flame To th' teeming earth , yet she remaine the same . And in my armes ( if Poets may divine ) I once that world of beauty shall intwine . And on ●er lips print volumes of my love , Without a froward checke , and sweetely move I th' Labyrinth of delight . If not , I le draw Her picture on my heart , and gently thaw With warmth of zeale , untill I heaven entreat , To give true life to th' ayery counterfeit .
Eccho to Narcissus . In praise of CASTARA'S discreete Love . SC●rn'd in thy watry Vrne Na●cissus lye , Thou shalt not force more tribute from my eye T' increase thy streames : or make me weep a showre , To adde fresh beauty to thee , now a flowre . But should relenting heaven restore thee sence , To see such wisedome temper innocence , In faire Castara's loves how shee discreet , Makes causion with a noble freedome meete , At the same moment ; thou ld'st confesse fond boy , Fooles onely thinke them vertuous , who are coy . And wonder not that I , who have no choyce Of speech , have praysing her so free a voyce ▪ Heaven her severest sentence doth repeale , When to Castara I would speake my zeale .
To CASTARA , Being debarr'd her presence . BAnisht from you , I charg'd the nimble winde , My unseene Messenger , to speake my minde , In am'rous whispers to you . But my Muse Lest the unruly spirit should abuse The trust repos'd in him , sayd it was due To her alone , to sing my loves to you . Heare her then speake . Bright Lady , from whose eye , Shot lightning to his heart , who joyes to dye A martyr in your flames : O let your love Be great and firme as his : Then nought shall move Your setled faiths , that both may grow together : Or if by Fate divided , both may wither . Harke ! 't was a groane . Ah how sad absence rends His troubled thoughts ! See , he from Marlow sends His eyes to Seymors . Then chides th' envious trees , And unkinde distance . Yet his fancie sees And courts your beauty , joyes as he had cleav'd Close to you , and then weepes because deceiv'd . Be constant as y' are faire . For I fore-see A glorious triumph waits o' th victorie Your love will purchase , shewing us to prize A true content . There onely Love hath eyes .
To Seymors , The house in which CASTARA lived . BLest Temple , haile , where the Chast Altar stands , Which Nature built , but the exacter hands Of Vertue polisht . Though sad Fate deny My prophane feete accesse , my vowes shall flye , May those Musitians , which divide the ayre With their harmonious breath , their flight prepare , For this glad place , and all their accents frame , To teach the Eccho my Castara's name . The beautious troopes of graces led by love In chaste attempts , possesse the neighb'ring grove Where may the Spring dwell still . May every tree Turne to a Laurell , and propheticke be . Which shall in its first Oracle divine , That courteous Fate decrees Castara mine .
To the Dew , In hope to see CASTARA walking . BRight Dew which dost the field adorne As th' earth to welcome in the morne , Would hang a jewell on each corne . Did not the pittious night , whose eares Have oft beene conscious of my feares , Distill you from her eyes as teares ? Or that Castara for your zeale , When she her beauties shall reveale , Might you to Dyamonds congeale ? If not your pity , yet how ere Your care I praise , 'gainst she appeare , To make the wealthy Indies here . But see she comes . Bright lampe o th' skie , Put out thy light : the world shall spie , A fairer Sunne in either eye . And liquid Pearle , hang heavie now On every grasse that it may bow In veneration of her brow . Yet if the wind should curious be . And were I here should question thee , Hee 's full of whispers , speake not me . But if the busie tell-tale day , Our happy enterview betray ; Lest thou confesse too , melt away .
To CASTARA . STay under the kinde shadow of this tree Castara , and protect thy selfe and me From the Sunnes rayes . Which shew the grace of Kings , A dangerous warmth with too much favour brings . How happy in this shade the humble Vine Doth 'bout some taller tree her selfe intwine , And so growes fruitefull ; teaching us her fate Doth beare more sweetes , though Cedars beare more state : Behold Adonis in yand' purple flowre , T' was Venus love : That dew , the briny showre , His coynesse wept , while strugling yet alive : Now he repents and gladly would revive , By th' vertue of your chaste & powerfull charmes , To play the modest wanton in your armes .
To CASTARA , Ventring to walke too farre in the neighbouring wood . DAre not too farre Castara , for the shade This courteous thicket yeeld ; hath man betray'd A prey to wolves to the wilde powers o th' wood , Oft travellers pay tribute with their blood . If carelesse of thy selfe of me take care , For like a ship where all the fortunes are Of an advent'rous merchant ; I must be , If thou should'st perish banquerout in thee . My feares have mockt me . Tygers when they shall Behold so bright a face , will humbly fall In adoration of thee . Fierce they are To the deform'd , obsequious to the faire . Yet venter not ; t is nobler farre to sway The heart of man , than beasts , who man obey .
Vpon CASTARA'S departure . VOwes are vaine . No suppliant breath Stayes the speed of swift-h●el'd death . Life with her is gone and I Learne but a new way to dye . See the flowers condole , and all Wither in my funerall . The bright Lilly , as if day , Parted with her fades away . Violets hang their heads , and lose All their beauty . That the Rose A sad part in sorrow beares , Witnesse all those dewy teares , Which as Pearle , or Dyamond like , Swell upon her blushing checke . All things mourne , but oh behold How the withered Marigold Closeth up now she is gone , Iudging her the setting Sunne .
A Dialogue betweene NIGHT and ARAPHIL . NIGHT. LEt silence close thy troubled eyes , Thy feare in Lethe steepe : The starres bright cent'nels of the skies , Watch to secure thy sleepe . ARAPH . The Norths unruly spirit lay In the disorder'd Seas : Make the rude Winter calme as May , And give a lover ease . NIGHT. Yet why should feare with her pale charmes , Bewitch thee so to griefe ? Since it prevents n'insuing harmes , Nor yeelds the past reliefe . ARAPH . And yet such horror I sustaine As the sad vessell , when Rough tempests have incenst the Maine , Her Harbor now in ken . NIGHT. No conquest weares a glorious wreath , Which dangers not obtaine : Let tempests 'gainst the shipwracke breathe , Thou shalt thy harbour gaine . ARAPH . Truths Delphos doth not still foret●ll . Though Sol th' inspirer be . How then should night as blind as hell , Ensuing truths fore-see ? NIGHT. The Sunne yeelds man no constant flame ▪ One light those Priests inspires . While I though blacke am still the same , And have ten thousand fires . ARAPH . But those , sayes my propheticke feare , As funerall torches burne , While thou thy selfe the blackes dost weare , T' attend me to my Vrne . NIGHT. Thy feares abuse thee , for those light● In Hymens Church shall shine , When he by th' mystery of his rites , Shall make Castara thine .
To the Right Honourable , the Lady , E. P. YOur judgement 's cleere , not wrinckled with the Time , On th' humble fate ; which censures it a crime , To be by vertue ruin'd . For I know Y' are not so various a● to ebbe and flow I th' streame of fortune , whom each faithlesse winde Distracts , and they who made her , fram'd her blinde . Possession makes us poore . Should we obtaine All those bright jems , for which i th' wealthy Maine , The tann'd slave dives ; or in one boundlesse chest Imprison all the treasures of the West , We still should want . Our better part 's immence , Not like th' inferiour , limited by sence . Rich with a little , mutuall love can lift Vs to a greatnesse , whether chance nor thrift E're rais'd her servants . For though all were spent , That can create an Europe in content . Thus ( Madam ) when Castara lends an eare Soft to my hope , I Love Philosopher , Winne on her faith . For when I wondring stand At th' intermingled beauty of her hand , ( Higher I dare not gaze ) to this bright veine I not ascribe the blood of Charlemaine Deriv'd by you to her . Or say there are In that and th' other Marmion , Rosse , and Par● Fitzhugh , Saint Quintin , and the rest of them That adde such lustre to great Pembrokes stem . My love is envious . Would Castara were The daughter of some mountaine cottager Who with his toile worne out , could dying leave Her no more dowre , then what she did receive From bounteous nature . Her would I then lead To th' Temple , rich in her owne wealth ; her head Crown'd with her haires faire treasure ; diamonds in Her brighter eyes ; soft Ermines in her skin ; Each Indie in each cheeke . Then all who vaunt , That fortune , them t' enrich , made others want , Should set themselves out glorious in her stealth , And trie if that , could parallel this wealth .
To CASTARA , Departing upon the approach of Night . WHat should we feare Castara ? The coole aire , That 's falne in love , and wantons in thy haire , Will not betray our whispers . Should I steale A Nectar'd kisse , the wind dares not reveale The pleasure I possesse . The wind conspites To our blest interview , and in our fires Bathe like a Salamander , and doth sip , Like Bacchu● from the grape , life from thy lip . Nor thinke of nights approach . The worlds great eye Though breaking Natures law , will us supply With his still flaming lampe : and to obey Our chaste desires , fix here perpetuall day . But should he set , what rebell night dares rise , To be sub du'dith ' vict'ry of the eyes ?
An Apparition . MOre welcome my Castara , then was light To the disordered Chaos . O what bright And nimble chariot brought thee through the aire ? While the amazed stars to see so faire And pure a beauty from the earth arise , Chang'd all their glorious bodies into eyes . O let my zealous lip print on thy hand The story of my love , which there shall stand A bright inscription to be read by none , But who as I love thee , and love but one . Why vanish you away ? Or is my se●se Deluded by my hope ? O sweete offence Oferring nature ▪ And would heaven this 〈◊〉 Beene true ; or that I thus were ever mad .
To the Honourable Mr. Wm. E ▪ HEe who is good is happy . Let the loude Artillery of Heaven breake through a cloude And dart its thunder at him ; hee 'le remaine Vnmov'd , and nobler comfort entertaine In welcomming th' approach of death , then vice Ere found in her fictitious Paradise . Time mocks our youth , and ( while we number past Delights , and raise our appitite to taste Ensuing ) brings us to unflatter'd age . Where we are left to satisfie the rage Of threatning Death : Pompe , beauty , wealth , and all Our friendships , shrinking from the funerall . The thought of this begets that brave disdaine With which thou view'st the world and makes those vaine Treasures of fancy , serious fooles so court , And sweat to purchase , thy contempt or sport . What should we cov●● here ? Why interpose A cloud ●wixt us and heaven ? Kind Nature chose M●ns soule th' Exchecquer where she 'd ●oord her wealth , And lodge all her rich secrets ; but by th' stealth Of our owne vanity , ware left so poore , The creature meerely sensuall knowes more . The learn'd Halc●on by her wisedome finds A gentle season , when the seas and winds Are silenc't by a calme , and then brings forth The happy miracle of her ●a●e birth , Leaving with wonder all our arts possest , That view the architecture of her nest . Pride raiseth us 'bove justice . We bestowe Increase of knowledge on old minds , which grow By age to dotage : while the sensitive Part of the World in it's first strength doth live . Folly ? what dost thou in thy power containe Deserves our study ? Merchants plough the maine And bring home th' Indies , yet aspire to more , By ava●ice in the possession poore . And yet that Idoll wealth we all admit Into the soules great temple , Busie wit Invents new Orgies , fancy frames new rites To show it's superstition , anxious nights Are watcht to win its favour : while the beast Content with Natures courtesie doth rest . Let man then boast no more a soule , since he Hath lost that great prerogative . But thee ( Whom Fortune hath exempted from the heard Of vulgar men , whom vertue hath prefer'd Farre higher than thy birth ) I must commend , Rich in the purchase of so sweete a friend . And though my fate conducts me to the shade Of humble quiet , my ambition payde With safe content , while a pure Virgin fame Doth raise me trophies in Castara's name . No thought of glory swelling me above The hope of being famed for vertuous love . Yet wish I thee , guided by the better starres To purchase unsafe honour in the warres Or envied smiles at court ; for thy great race , And merits , well may challenge th' highest place . Yet know , what busie path so ere you tread To greatnesse , you must sleepe among the dead .
To CASTARA , The vanity of Avarice . HArke ? how the traytor wind doth cour● The Saylors to the maine ▪ To make their avarice his sport ▪ A tempest checks the fond disdaine ! They beare a safe though humble port . Wee 'le sit my Love upon the shore , And while proud billowes rise To warre against the skie , speake ore Our Loves so sacred misteries . And charme the Sea to th' calme it had before , Where 's now my pridet ' extend my same Where ever statues are ? And purchase glory to my name In the smooth court or rugged warre ? My love hath layd the Devill , I am tame . I 'de rather like the violes grow Vnmarkt i' th shaded vale , Then on the hill those terrors know Are breath'd forth by an angry gal● , There is more pompe above , more sweete below ▪ Love , thou divine Philosopher ( While covetous Landlords rent , And Courtiers dignity preferre ) Instructs us to a sweete content , Greatnesse is selfe , doth in it selfe interr● , Castara , what is there above The treasures we possesse ? We two are all and one , wee move Like starres in th' orbe of happinesse . All blessings are Epitomiz'd in Love .
To my honoured Friend and Kinsman , R. St. Esquire . IT shall not grieve me ( friend ) though what I write Be held no wit at Court . If I delight So farre my sullen Genius , as to raise It pleasure ; I have money , wine , and bayes Enough to crowne me Poet. Let those wits , Who teach their Must the art of Parasies To win on easi● greatnesse ; or the yo●gue Spruce Lawyer who 's all impudence and tongue Sweat to divulge their fames : thereby the one Gets sees ; the other hyre , l'em best unknowne : Sweet silence I embrace thee , and thee Fate Which didst my birth so wisely moderate ; That I by want am neither vilified , Nor yet by riches flatter'd into pride . Resolve me friend ( for it must folly be Or else revenge 'gainst niggard Destinie , That makes some Poets raile ? ) Why are their times So steept in gall ? Why so obrayde the times ? As if no sin call'd downe heav'ns vengeance more Then cause the world leaves some few writers poore ? T is true , that Chapmans reverend ashes must Lye rudely mingled with the vulgar dust , Cause carefull heyers the wealthy onely have ; To build a glorious trouble o're the grave . Yet doe I not despaire , some one may be So seriously devout to Poesie As to translate his reliques , and finde roome In the warme Church , to build him up a tombe . Since Spencer hath a Stone ; and Draytons browes Stand petrefied i th' wall , with Laurell bowes Yet girt about ; and nigh wise Henries herse , Old Chaucer got a Marble for his verse . So courteous is Death ; Death Poets brings So high a pompe , to lodge them with their Kings : Yet still they mutiny . If this man please His silly Patron with Hyperboles . Or most mysterious non-sence , give ●is braine But the strapado in some wanton straine ; Hee 'le sweare the State lookes not on men of parts And , if but mention'd , slight all other Arts. Vaine ostentation ! Let us set so just A rate on knowledge , that the world may trust The Poets Sentence , and not still aver Each Art is to it selfe a flatterer . I write to you Sir on this theame , because Your soule is cleare , and you observe the lawes , Of Poesie so justly , that I chuse Yours onely the example to my muse . And till my brownes haire be mixt with gray Without a blush , I le tread the sportive way , My Muse directs ; A Poet youth may be , But age doth dote without Philosophie .
To the World . The Perfection of Love . YOu who are earth , and cannot rise Above your sence , Boasting the envyed wealth which lyes Bright in your Mistris lips or eyes , Betray a pittyed eloquence . That which doth joyne our soules , so light . And quicke doth move . That like the Eagle in his flight , It doth t●●nscend all humane sight , Lost in the element of Love . You Poets reach not this , who sing The praise of dust But kneaded ▪ when by theft you bring The rose and Lilly from the Spring T' adorne the wrinckled face of lust . When we speake Love , nor art , nor wi● We glosse upon : Our soules engender , and beget Ideas , which you counterfeit In your dull progagation . While Time seven ages shall disperse ▪ Wee 'le talke of Love , And when our tongues hold no commerse ▪ Our thoughts shall mutually converse . And yet the blood no rebell prove . And though we be ▪ of severall kind Fit for offence : Yet are we so by Love refin'd , From impure drosse we are all mind . Death could not more have conquer'd sence . How suddenly those flames expire Which scorch our clay ? Promet●eas-like when we steale fire From heaven 't is endlesle and intire It may know age , but not decay .
To the Winter . WHy dost thou looke so pale , decripit man ? Why doe thy cheeks curle like the Ocean , Into such furrowes ? Why dost thou appeare So shaking like an ague to the yeare ? The Sunse is gone . But yet Castara stayes , And will adde stature to thy Pigmy dayes , Warme moysture to thy veynes : her smile can bring Thee the sweet youth , and beauty of the Spring . Hence with thy P●lsie then , and on thy head Weare flowrie chaplets as a bridegroome led To th' holy Fane . Banish thy aged ruth , That Virgins may admire and court thy youth . And the approaching Sunne when she shall finde A Spring without him , fall , since uselesse , blinde .
Upon a visit to CASTARA in the Night . T' Was Night : when Phoebe guided by thy rayes , Chaste as my zeale , with incence of her praise , I humbly crept to my Castara's shrine . But oh my fond mistake ! for there did shine A noone of beauty , with such lustre crown'd , As shewd mong th' impious onely night is found . It was her eyes which like two Diamonds shin'd , Brightest i th' dark . Like which could th' Indian find , But one among his rocks , he would out vie In brightnesse all the Diamonds of the Skie . But when her lips did ope● the Phoenix nest Breath'd forth her odours ; where might love once feast , Hee 'd loath his heauenly furfets : if we dare Affirme , love hath a heaven without my faire .
To CASTARA . Of the chastity of his Love . WHy would you blush Castara , when the name Of love you heare ? who never felt his flame , I th' shade of melancholly night doth stray , A blind Cymmerian banisht from the day . Let 's chastly love Castara , and not soyle This Virgin lampe , by powring in the oyle Of impure thoughts . O let us sympathize , And onely talke i th' language of our eyes , Like two starres inconjunction . But beware Left th' Angels who of love compacted are , Viewing how chastly burnes thy zealous fire , Should soa●ch thee hence , to joyne thee to their quire . Yet take thy flight : on earth for surely we So joyn'd , in heaven cannot divided be .
The Description Of CASTARA . LIke the Violet which alone Prospers in some happy shade : My Castara lives unknowne , To no looser eye betray'd , For shee 's to her selfe untrue , Who delights i th' publicke view , Such is her beauty , as no arts Have enricht with borrowed grace ▪ Her high birth no pride imparts , For she blushes in her place . Folly boasts a glorious blood , She is noblest being good . Cautious she knew never yet What a wanton courtship meant : Not speaks loud to boast her wit , In her silence eloquent . Of her selfe survey she takes , But 'tweene men no difference makes . She obeyes with speedy will Her grave Parents wise commands . And so innocent , that ill , She nor acts , nor understands . Womens , feet runne still astray , If once to ill they know the way . She sailes by that rocke , the Court , Where oft honour splits her mast : And retir'dnesse thinks the port , Where her fame may anchor cast . Vertue safely cannot sit , Where vice is enthron'd for wit . She holds that dayes pleasure best , Where sinne waits not on delight , Without maske , or ball , or feast , Sweetly spends a winters night . O're that darknesse , whence is thrust , Prayer and sleepe oft governs lust . She her throne makes reason climbe , While wild passions captive lie . And each article of time , Her pure thoughts to heaven flie : All her vowes religious be , And her love she vowes to me .
FINIS .

CASTARA : The Second part .

Uatumque lascivos triumphos , Calcat Amor , pede conjugali .

LONDON Printed for WILLIAM COOKE and are to be sold at his Shop , neare Furnivals-Inne Gate in Holborne . 1639.

A Wife .

IS the sweetest part in the harmony of our being . To the love of which , as the charmes of Nature inchant us , so the law of grace by speciall priviledge invites us . Without her , Man if piety not restraine him ; is the creator of sinne ; or , if an innated cold render him not onely the businesse of the present age ; the murderer of posterity . She is so religious that every day crownes her a martyr , and her zeale neither rebellious nor uncivill . Shee is so true a friend , her Husband may to her communicate even his ambitions , and if successe Crowne not expectation , remaine neverthelesse uncontemn'd , Shee is colleague with him in the Empire of prosperity ; and a safe retyring place when adversity exiles him from the World . Shee is so chaste , shee never understood the language lust speakes in , nor with a smile applaudes it , although there appeare wit in the Metaphore . Shee is faire onely to winne on his affections , nor would she be Mistris of the most eloquent beauty ; if there were danger , that might perswade the passionate auditory , to the least irregular thought . Shee is noble by a long descent , but her memory is so evill a herald , Shee never boasts the story of her Ancestors . Shee is so moderately rich , that the defect of portion doth neither bring penury to his estate , nor the superfluity licence her to Riot . Shee is liberall , and yet owes not ruine to vanity , but knowes Charity , to be the soule of goodnesse , and Uertue without reward often prone to bee her owne destroyer . Shee is much at home , and when shee visits 't is for mutuall commerce , not for intelligence . Shee can goe to Court , and returne no passionate doater on bravery ; and when shee hath seene the gay things muster up themselves there , shee considers them as Cobwebs the Spider vanity hath spunne . Shee is so generall in her acquaintance , that shee is familiar with all whom fame speakes vertuous ; but thinkes there can bee no friendship but with one ; and therefore hath neither shee friend nor private servant . Shee so squares her passion to her Husbands fortunes , that in the Countrey shee lives without a froward Melancholly , in the towne without a fantastique pride . She is ●o temperate , she never read the moderne pollicie of glorious surfeits ; since she finds Nature is no Epicure if art provoke her not by curiositie . Shee is inquisitive onely of new wayes to please him , and her wit sayles by no other compasse then that of his direction . Shee lookes upon him as Conjurers upon the Circle , beyond which there is nothing but Death and Hell ; and in him shee beleeves Paradice circumscrib'd . His vertues are her wonder and imitation ; and his errors , her credulitie thinkes no more frailtie , then makes him descend to the title of Man . In a word , shee so lives that shee may dye ; and leave no cloude upon her Memory , but have her character nobly mentioned : while the bad Wife is flattered into infamy , and buyes pleasure at too deare ● rate , if shee onely payes for it Repentance .

The Second Part.
To CASTARA , Now possest of her in marriage . THis day is ours . The marriage Angell now Sees th' Altar in the od●ur of our vow , Yeeld a more precious breath , then that which moves The whispring leaves in the Pa●chayan , groves . View how ●is temples shine , on which he wea●e● A wreath of pearle , made of those precious teares Thou wepst a Virgin , when crosse winds did blow , Our hopes disturbing in their quiet flow . But now Castara smile , No envious night Dares enterpose it selfe , t'ecclipse the light Of our cleare joyes . For even the lawes divine Permit our mutuall love so to entwine . That Kings , to ballance true content , shall say ; Would they were great as we , we blest as they .
To CASTARA , Upon the mutuall love of their Majesties . DId you not see , Castara , when the King Met his lov'd Queene ; what sweetnesse she did bring T' incounter his brave heat ; how great a flame From their brests meeting , on the sudden came ? The Stoike , who all easie passion flies , Could he but heare the language of their eyes , As heresies would from his faith remove The tenets of his sect , and practise love . The barb'rous nations which supply the earth With a promiscuous and ignoble birth , Would by this precedent correct their life , Each wisely chuse , and chastely love a wife . Princes example is a law . Then we If loyall subjects , must true lovers be .
To Zephirus . WHose whispers soft as those which lovers breath Castara and my selfe I here bequeath To the calme wind . For heaven such joyes afford To her and me , that there can be no third . And you kinde starres , be thriftier of your light : Her eyes supply your office with more bright And constant lustre . Angels gaurdians , like The nimbler ship boyes shall be joy'd to strike Or ho●sh up saile ; Nor shall our vessell move By Card or Compasse , but a heavenly love . The couresie of this more prosperous gale Shall swell our Canvas , and wee 'le swiftly saile To some blest Port , where ship hath never lane At anchor , whose chaste soile no foot prophane Hath ever trod ; Where nature doth dispence Her infant wealth , a beautious innocence . Pompe ( even a burthen to it selfe ) nor Pride , ( The Magistrate of sinnes ) did e're abide On that so sacred earth Ambition ne're , Built for the sport of ruine , fabrickes there . Thence age and death are exil'd , all offence And feare expell'd , all noyse and faction thence . A silence there so melancholly sweet , That none but whispring Turtles ever meet , Thus Paradise did our first Parents Wooe , To harmelesse sweets , at first possest by two . And o're this second , wee le usurpe the throne ; Castara wee le obey and rule alone ▪ For the rich vertue of this soyle I feare , Would be depraved , should but a third be there .
To CASTARA In a Trance . FOrsake me not so soone . Castara stay , And as I breake the prison of my Clay , I le fill the Canvas with m'expiring breath , And with thee saile o're the vast maine of death . Some Cherubin thus as we passe shall play . Goe happy twins of love : The courteous Sea Shall smooth her wrinkled brow : the winds shal sleep ▪ Or onely whisper musicke to the deepe . Every ungentle rocke shall melt away , The Syrens sing to please , not to betray . Th' indulgent skie shall smile : each starry quire Contend , which shall afford the brighter fire . While Love the Pilot , steeres his course so even , Ne're to cast anchor till we reach at Heaven .
To DEATH , CASTARA being sicke . HEnce prophane grim man , nor dare To approach so neere my faire . Marble vaults , and gloomy caves , Church-yards , Charnell houses , graves , Where the living loath to be , Heaven hath design'd to thee ▪ But if needs 'mongst us thou ' it rage , Let thy fury feed on age . Wrinckled browes , and withered thighs . May supply thy sacrifice . Yet perhaps as thou flew'st by , A flamed dar● shot from her eye , Sing'd thy wings with wanton fire , Whence th' art forc't to hover nigh her . If Love so mistooke his aime , Gently welcome in the flame : They who loath'd thee , when they see Where thou harbor'st will love thee . Onely I , such is my fate , Must thee as a rivall hate , Court her gently , learne to prove . Nimble in the thefts of love . Gaze on th' errors of her haire : Touch her lip ; but oh beware , Lest too ravenous of thy blisse , Thou shouldst murder with a kisse .
To CASTARA Inviting her to sleepe , SLeepe my Castara , silence doth invite Thy eyes to close up day ; though envious night Grieves Fate should her the sight of them debarre , For she is exil'd , while they open are . Rest in thy peace secure , With drowsie charmes , Kinde sleepe bewitcheth thee into her armes ; And finding where Loves chiefest treasure lies , Is like a theefe stole under thy bright eyes . Thy innocence rich as the gaudy quil● Wrought by the Persian hand , thy dreames from guil● : Exempted , heaven with sweete repose doth crowne Each vertue softer then the Swans fam'd downe . As exoroists wilde spirits mildly lay ▪ May sleepe thy fever calmely chase away .
Upon CASTARA'S recoverie . SHe is restor'd to life . Vnthrifty Death , Thy mercy in permitting vitall breath Backe to Castara , hath enlarg'd us all , Whom g●iefe had martyr'd in her funerall . While others in the ocean of their teares , Had sinking , wounded the beholders eares . With exclamations : I without a grone , Had suddenly congeal'd into a stone : There stood a statue , till the generall doome ; Had ruin'd time and memory with her tombe . While in my heart , which marble , yet still bled , Each Lover might this Epitaph have read . Her earth lyes here below ; her soul 's above , This wonder speakes her vertue , and my love .
To a Friend , Inviting him to a meeting upon promise . MAy you drinke beare , or that adult'rate wine Which makes the zeale of Amsterdam divine ; If you make breach of promise . I have now So rich a Sacke , that even your selfe will bow ●'adore my Ge●i●● . Of this wine should Pr●nne ▪ Drinke but a plenteous glasse , he would beginne A health to Shakespeares ghost , But you may bring ▪ Some excuse forth , and answer me the King To day will give you audience , or that on Affaires of state , you and some serious Don Are to resolve ; or else perhaps you 'le sin So far●e , as to leave word y' are not within : The least of these , will make me onely thinke Him subtle , who can in his closet drinke Drunke even alone , and thus made wise create As dangerous plots as the Low Countrey state , Projecting for such baits , as shall draw ore To Holland , all the herrings from our shore , But y' are too full of candor : and I know Will sooner stones at Sali●bury casements throw , Or buy up for the silenc'd Levi●s , all The rich impropri●tion● , then let pall So pure Canary , and breake such an oath : Since charity is sinn'd against in both . Come therefore blest even in the Lollards zeale , Who canst with conscience safe , ' ●ore hen and veale Say grace in Latine ; while I saintly sing A Penitentiall verse in oyle and Ling. Come then , and bring with you prepar'd for fight , Vnmixt Canary , Heaven send both prove right ▪ This I am sure : My s●cke will disingage All humane thoughts , inspire so high a rage , That Hypocrene shall henceforth Poets lacke , Since more Enthusiasmes are in my sacke . Heightned with which , my raptures shall commend , How good Castara is , how deare my friend .
To CASTARA , Where true happinesse abides . CAstara whisper in some dead mans eare , This subtill quaere ; and hee 'le point out where , By answers negative , true joyes abide . Hee 'le say they flow not on th' uncertaine tide Of greatnesse , they can no firme basis have , Vpon the tripidation of a wave . Nor lurke they in the caverns of the earth , Whence all the wealthy minerals draw their birth , To covetous man so fatall . Nor i th' grace Love they to wanton of a brighter face , For th' are above Times battery ; and the light Of beauty , ages cloud will soone be night . If among these Content , he thus doth prove , Hath no abode ; where dwels it but in Love ▪
To CASTARA . FOrsake with me the earth , my faire , And travell nimbly through the aire , Till we have reacht th' admiring skies ; Then lend sight to those heavenly eyes Which blind themselves , make creatures see . And taking view of all , when we Shall finde a pure and glorious spheare ; Wee 'le fix like starres for ever there . Nor will we still each other view , Wee 'le ga●e on lesser starres then you ; See how by their weake influence they , The strongest of mens actions sway . In an inferiour or be below , Wee 'le see Calisto loosely throw Her haire abroad : a● she did weare , The selfe-same beauty in a Beare , As when she a cold Virgin stood , And yet inflam'd Ioves lustfull blood . Then looke on Lede , whose faire beames By their reflection guild those streames , Where first unhappy she began To play the wanton with a Swan . If each of these loose beauties are Transform'd to a more beauteous starre By the adult'rous lust of Iove ; Why should not we , by purer love ?
To CASTARA , Vpon the death of a Lady . CAstara weepe not , though her tombe appeare , Sometime thy griefe to answer with a teare : The marble will but wanton with thy woe . Death is the Sea , and we like Rivers flow To lose our selves in the insatiate Maine , Whence Rivers may , she ne're returne againe . Nor grieve this Christall streame so soone did fall Into the Ocean ; since shee perfum'd all The banks she past , so that each neighbour field Did sweete flowers cherish by her watring , yeeld . Which now adorne her Hearse . The violet there On her pale cheeke doth the ●ad livery weare , Which heavens compassion gave her ; And since she . Cause cloath'd in purple can no mourner be , As incense to the tombe she gives her breath , And fading on her Lady waits in death ; Such office the Aegyptian handmaids did Great Cleopatra , when she dying chid . The Asps slow venome , trembling she should be By Fate rob'd even of that blacke victory The flowers instruct our sorrowes . Come then all Ye beauties , to true beauties funerall , And with ●er to increase deaths pompe , decay . Since the supporting fabricke of your clay Is falne , how can ye stand ? How can the night Shew stars , when Fate puts out the dayes great light , But 'mong the faire , if there live any yet , She 's but the fairer Digbies counterfeit . Come you who speake your titles . Reade in this Pale booke , how vaine● bo●ast your greatnesse i● . What 's honour but a hatchment ? what is here Of Percy left , and Stanly , names most deare To vertue ? but a crescent turn'd to th' wane , An Eagle groaning o're an infant ●●aine ? Or what availes her , that she once was led , A glorious bride to valiant Digbies bed , Since death hath them divorc'd ? If then alive There are , who these s●d obsequies survive And vaunt a proud descent ▪ they onely be Loud h●ralds to set forth her pedigree . Come all who glory in your wealth , and view The embleme of your frailty . How untrue ( Though flattering like friends ) your treasures are , Her Fare hath taught : who , when what ever rare The either Indies boast , lay richly spread For her to weare , lay on her pillow dead . Come likewise my Castara and behold , What blessings ancient prophesie foretold , Bestow'd on her in death . She past away So sweetely from the world , as if her clay Laid enely downe to slumber . Then forbeare To let on her blest ashes fall a teare . But if th' art too much woman , softly weepe , Lest griefe disturbe the silence of her sleepe .
To CASTARA , Being to take a journey . WHat 's death more than departure ; the dead go Like travelling exiles , compell'd to know Those regions they heard mention of : T is th' art Of sorrowes , sayes , who dye doe but depart . Then weepe thy funerall teares : which heaven t' adorne The beauteous tresses of the weeping morne , Will rob me of : and thus my tombe shall be As naked ▪ as it had no obsequie . Know in these lines , sad musicke to thy eare , My sad Castara , you the sermon here Which I preach o're my hearse : And dead , I tell My owne lives story , ring but my owne knell . But when I shall returne , know 't is thy breath In sighes divided , rescues me from death .
To CASTARA , Weeping . CAstara ! O you are too prodigall O th' treasure of your teares ; which thus let fall Make no returne : well plac'd calme peace might bring To the loud wars , ●ach free a captiv'd King . So the unskilfull Indian those bright jems , Which might adde adde majestie to Diadems , 'Mong the waves scatters , as if he would store The thanklesse Sea , to make our Empire poore : When heaven darts thunder at the wombe of Time , Cause with each moment it brings forth a crime , Or else despairing to roote out abuse , Would ruine vitious earth ; be then profuse . Light , chas'd rude chaos from the wo●ld before , Thy teares , by hindring it's returne worke more .
To CASTARA , Upon a sigh . I Heard a sigh , and something in my eare Did whisper , what my soule before did feare . That it was breath'd by thee . May th' easie Spring Enricht with odours , wanton on the wing Of th' Easterne wind , may ne'r● his beauty fade , If he the treasure of this breath convey'd ; 'T was thine by 'th musicke which th' harmonious breath Of Swans is like , propheticke in their death : And th' odour , for as it the nard expires , Perfuming Phoenix-like his funerall fires . The winds of Paradice send such a gale , To make the Lovers vessels calmely saile To his lov'd Port. This shall , where it inspires , Increase the chaste , extinguish unchaste fires .
To the Right Honourable the Lady F. Madam . YOu saw our loves , & prais'd the mutuall flame : In which as incense to your sacred name Burnes a religious zeale . May we be lost To one another , and our fire be frost ; When we omit to pay the tribute due To worth and vertue , and in them to you ▪ Who are the soule of women . Others be But beauteous parts oth'female body ; she Who boasts how many nimble Cupids skip Through her bright face , is but an eye or lip ; The other who in her soft brests can show Warme Violets growing in a banke of snow , And vaunts the lovely wonder , is but skin : Nor is she but a hand , who holds within The chrystall violl of her wealthy palme , The precions sweating of the Easterne balme . And all these if you them together take , And joyne with art. ●ill but one body make , To which the soule each vitall motion gives ; You are infus'd into it , and it lives . But should you up to your blest mansion flie , How loath'd an object would the carkasse lie ? You are all mind . Castara when she lookes , On you th' Epitome of all ▪ that ●ookes Or e're tradition taught ; who gives such praise Vnto your sex , that now even customes sayes He hath a female soule , who ere hath writ Volumes which learning comprehend , and w●it . Castara cries to me ; Searchou● and find The Mines of wisedome in her learned mind , And trace her steps to honour ; I aspire Enough to worth , while I her worth admire .
To CASTARA . Against opinion . WHy should we build , Castara , in the aire Of fraile opinion ? Why admire as faire , What the weake faith of man gives us for right ? The jugling world cheats but the weaker sight , What is in greatnesse happy ? As free mirth , As ample pleasures of th' indulgent earth We joy who on the ground our mansion finde , As they , who saile like witches in the wind Of Court applause . What can their powerfull spell Over inchanted man , more than compell Him into various formes ? Nor serves their charme Themselves to good , but to worke others harme . Tyrant Opinion but depose . And we Will absolute i th' happiest Empire be .
To CASTARA . Vpon Beautie . CAstara , see that dust , the sportive wind So wantons with . 'T is happ'ly all you 'le finde Left of some beauty : and how still it flies . To trouble , as it did in life , our eyes . O empty boast of flesh ? Though our heires gild The farre fetch Phrigian marble , which shall build A burthen to our a he● , y●t will death Betray them to the sport of every breath . Dost thou , poore relique of our frailty , still Swell up with glory ? Or is it thy skill , To mocke weake man , whom every wind of praise Into the aire , doth 'bove his center raise . If so , mocke on , And tell him that his lust To beauti 's , madnesse . For it courts but dust .
To CASTARA , Melancholly . WEre but that sigh a penitentiall breath That thou art mine : It would blow with it death , T' inclose me in ray marble Where I 'de be Slave to the tyrant wormes , to set thee free . What should we envy ? Though with larger saile Some dance upon the Ocean : yet more fraile And faithlesse is that wave , than where ●e glide , Blest in the saf●t● of a private tide . We still have land in ken . And 'cause our boat Dares not affront the weather , wee 'le ne're float Farre from the shore . To daring them each cloud Is big with thunder , every wind speakes loud . And though wild rockes about the shore appeare Yet vertue will finde roome to anchor there .
A Dialogue betweene ARAPHILL and CASTARA . ARAPH . CAstara , you too fondly court The silken peace with which we cover'd are , Vnquiet time may for his sport , Vp from its iron den rowse sleepy warre . CAST. Then in the language of the drum , I will instruct my yet afrighted ●are , All women shall in me be dumbe ; If I but with my Araphill be there ? ARAPH , If Fate like an unfaithfull gale , Which having vow'd to th' ship a faire event , O th' sudden rends her hopefull saile ; Blow ruine ; will Castara then repent ? CAST. Love shall in that tempestuous showre Her brightest blossome like the black-thorne show : Weake friendship prospers by the powre Of fortunes Sunne . I 'le in her winter grow . ARAPH . If on my skin the noysome skar I should o th' leprosie , or canker weare ; Or if the sulph'rous breath of warre Should blast my youth ; Should I not be thy feare ? CAST. In flesh may sickenesse horror move , But heavenly zeale will be by it refin'd , For then wee 'd like two Angels love , Without a sense ; imbrace each others mind . ARAPH . Were it not impious to repine ; 'Gainst rigid Fate I should direct my breath . That two must be , whom heaven did joyne In such a happy one , disjoyn'd by death . CAST. That 's no divource . Then shall we see The rites in life , were tipes o' th marriage state , Our soules on earth contracted be ; But they in heaven their nuptials consumate .
To the Right Honourable HENRY Lord M. My Lord . MY thoughts are not so rugged , nor doth earth So farre predominate in me , that mirth Lookes not as lovely as when our delight First fashion'd wings to adde a nimbler flight To lazie time ; who would , to have survai'd Our varied pleasures , there have ever staid . And they were harmelesse . For obedience If frailty yeelds to the wild lawes of sence ; We shall but with a sugred venome meete ; No pleasure , if not innocent as sweet . And that 's your choyce : who adde the title good To that of noble . For although the blood Of Marshall , Standley , and ‛ La Pole doth flow With happy Brandon's in your veines ; you owe Your vertue not to them . Man builds alone O th' ground of honour : For desert's our owne . Be that your ayme . I 'le with Castara si● I th' shade , from heat of businesse . While my wit Is neither big with an ambitious ayme , To build tall Pyramids I th' court of fame , For after ages , or to win conceit O th' present , and grow in opinion great . Rich in our selves , we envy not the East , Her rockes of Diamonds , or her gold the West . Arabia may be happy in the death Of her reviving Phaenix , In the breath Of coole Favonius , famous be the grove Of Tempe ; while we in each others love . For that let us be fam'd . And when of all That Nature made us two , the funerall Leaves but a little dust ; ( which then as wed , Even after death , shall sleepe still in one bed . ) The Bride and Bridegroome on the solemne day , Shall with warme zeale approach our Vrne , to pay , Their vowes , that heaven should blisse so farre their rites . To shew them the faire paths to our delights .
To a Tombe . TYrant o're tyrants , thou who onely dost Clip the lascivious beauty without lust ; What horror at thy sight sh●otes through each sence ; How powerfull is thy silent eloquence , Which never flatters ? Thou instruct'st the proud , That their swolne pompe is but an empty cloud , Slave to each wind . The faire , those flowers they have I'resh in their cheeke , are strewd upon a grave . Thou tell'st the rich , their I doll is but earth . The vainely pleas'd , that Syren-like their mirth Betrayes to mischiefe , and that onely he Da●es welcome death , whose aimes at vertue be . Which yet more zeale doth to Castara move . What checks me , when the tombe perswades to love
To CASTARA . Vpon thought of Age and Death . THe breath of time shall blast the flowry Spring , Which so perfumes thy cheeke , and with it bring So d●rke a mist , as shall eclipse the light Of thy faire eyes , in an eternall night . Some melancholly chamber of the earth , ( For that like Time devoures whom it gave breath ) , Thy beauties shall entombe , while all who ere Lov'd nobly , offer up their serrowes there . But I whose griefe no formall limits bound , Beholding the darke caverne of that ground , Will there immure my selfe . And thus I shall Thy mourner be , and my owne funerall . Else by the weeping magicke of my verse , Thou hadst reviv'd ▪ to triumph o're thy hearse .
To the Right Honourable , the Lord P. My Lord . THe reverend man by magicke of his prayer Hath charm'd so , that I and your daughter ar● Contracted into one . The holy lights Smil'd with a cheerefull lustre on our rites , And every thing presag'd full happinesse To mutuall love ; if you 'le the omen blesse . Nor grieve , my Lord , 't is perfected . Before Afflicted Seas sought refuge on the shore From the angry Northwind . Ere th' astonisht Spring Heard in the ayre the feather'd people sing , Ere time had motion , or the Sunne obtain'd His province o're the day , this was ordain'd . Nor thinke in her I courted wealth or blood , Or more uncertaine hopes : for bad I stood On th' highest ground of fortune , the world knowne No greatnesse but what waited on my throne ; And she had onely had that face and mind , I , with my selfe , had th' earth to her resign'd . In vertue there'● an Empire , And so sweete The rule is when it doth with beauty meete , As fellow Consull ; that of heaven they Nor earth partake ; who would her disobey . This captiv'd me . And ere I question'd why I ought to love Castara , through my eye , This soft obedience stole into my heart . Then found I love might lend to th' quick-ey'd art Of Reason yet a purer sight : For he Though blind , taught her these Indies first to see , In whose possession I at length am blest . And with my selfe at quiet , here I rest , As all things to my powre subdu'd . To me Ther 's nought beyond this . The whole wo●ld is she .
His Muse speakes to him . THy vowes are heard , and thy Castara's name Is writ as faire i th' Register of Fame , As th' ancient beauties which translated are By Poets up to heaven ; each there a starre . And though Imperiall Tiber boast alone Ovids Corinaa , and to Ar● is knowne But Petrarchs Laura ; while our famous Thames Doth murmur Sydneyes Stella to her streames . Yet hast thou Sever●e left , and she can bring As many quires of Swans , as they to sing Thy glorious love : Which living shall by thee The onely Sov'ragine of those waters be . Dead in loves firmament , no starre shall shine So nobly faire , so purely chaste as thine .
To Vaine hope . THou dreame of madmen , ever changing gale , Sw●ll with thy wanton breath the gaudy saile Of glorious fooles . Thou guid'st them who thee court To rocks , to quick-sands , or some faithlesse port . Were I not mad , who when secure at ease , I might i th' Cabbin passe the raging Seas , Would like a franticke shipboy wildly haste , To climbe the giddy top of th' unsafe mast ? Ambition never to her hopes did faine A greatnesse , but I really obtaine In my Castara . Wer'● not fondnesse then T' embrace the shadowes of true blisse ? And when●● My Paradise all flowers and fruits doth breed : To rob a barren garden for a weed ?
To CASTARA , How happy , though in an obscure fortune . WEre we by fate throwne downe below our seare ; Could we be poore ? Or question Natures care ▪ In our provision ? She who doth afford A feather'd garment fit for every bird , And onely voyce enough t' expresse delight . She who apparels Lillies in their white . As if in that she 'de teach mans duller sence , Wh' are highest , should be so in innocence . She who in damaske doth attire the Rose , ( And man t 'himselfe a mockery to propose , 'Mong whom the humblest Iudges grow to sit ) She who in purple cloathes the Violet . If thus she cares for things even voyd of sence ; Shall we suspect in us her providence ?
To CASTARA . WHat can the freedome of our love enthrall ? Castara were we dispossest of all The gifts of fortune ; richer yet than she Can make her slaves , wee 'd in each other be . Love in himselfe 's a world . If we should have A mansion but in some forsaken cave ; Wee 'd smooth misfortune : and our selves thinke then Retir'd like Princes from the noise of men , To breath a while unflatter'd . Each wild beast , That should the silence of our cell infest , With clamor , seeking prey ; Wee 'd fanci● weare Nought but an avaritious Courtier . Wealth's but opinion . Who thinks others more Of treasures have , then we , is onely poore .
On the death of the Right Honourable , GEORGE Earle of S. BRight Saint , thy pardon , if my sadder verse , Appeare in sighing o're thy glorious hearse , To envie heaven . For fame it selfe now weares Griefes Livery , and onely speake in teares . And pardon you Castara if a wh●le Your memory I banish from my stile ; When I have payd his death the tribute due , Of sorrow , I 'le returne to Love and you . Is there a name like Talbot , which a showre Can force from every eye ? And hath even powre To alter natures course ? How else should all Runne wilde with mourning , and distracted fall : Th' illiterate vulgar in a well tun'd breath , Lament their losse , and learnedly chide death , For its bold rape , while the sad Poets song Is yet unheard , as if griefe had no tongue ▪ Th' amaz'd marriner having lost his way In the tempestuous desart of the Sea , Lookes up but findes no starres . They all conspire To darke themselves , t' enlighten this new fire . The learn'd Astronomer with daring eye , Searching to tracke the Spheares through which you flie , ( Most beauteous soule ) doth in his journey faile , And blushing , sayes , the subtlest art is fraile , And but truths counterfet . Your flight doth reach , Faire Vertue hath an Orbe beyond his reach . But I grow dull with sorrow . Vnkinde Fate To play the tyrant and subvert the state Of setled goodnesse . Who shall henceforth stand ▪ A pure example to enforme the Land Of her loose riot ? Who shall counterchecke The wanton pride of greatnesse ; and direct Straid honour in the true magnificke way ? Whose life shall shew what triumph 't is t' obey The hard commands of reason ? And how sweet The nup●ials are , when wealth and learning meet ? Who will with silent piety confute Atheisticke Sophistry , and by the fruite Approve Religions tree ? who 'le teach his blood A Virgin law and dare be great and good ? Who will despise his stiles ? And nobly weigh In judgements ballance , that his honour'd clay Hath no advantage by them ? Who will live So innocently pious , as to give The world no scandall ? who 'll himselfe deny , And to warme passion a cold martyr dye ? My griefe distracts me . If my zeale h●th said , What checks the living ; know I serve the dead . The dead , who needs no monumentall vaults , With his pale ashes to intombe his faults . Whose sins beget no libels , whom the poore For benefit , for worth , the rich adore . Who liv'd a solitary Pnaenix , free From the commerce with mischiefe , joy'd to be Still gazing heaven-ward , where his thoughts did move● Fed with the sacred fire of zealous love , Alone he flourisht , till the fatall houre Did summon him , when gathering f●●m each flowre Their vertuous odours , from his perfum'd nest , He tooke his slight to everlasting rest . There shine great Lord , and with prepitious eyes , Looke downe , and smile upon this sacrifice .
To my worthy Cousin Mr. E. C. In praise of the City Life , in the long Vacation . I Like the greene plush which your meadows weare , I praise your pregnant fields , which duely beare Their wealthy burden to th' industrious Bore . Nor doe I disallow that who are poore In minde and fortune , thither should retire : But hate that he who 's warme with holy fire Of any knowledge , and 'mong us may feast On Nectar'd wit , should turne himselfe t' a beast , And graze i th' Country , Why did nature wrong So much her paines , as to give you a tongue And fluent language ; If converse you hold With Oxen in the stall , and sheepe i th' fold ? But now it 's long Vacation you will say The towne is empty , and who ever may To th' pleasure of his Country home repaire , Flyes from th' infection of our London aire . In this your errour . Now 's the time alone To live here ; when the City Dame is gone , T' her house at Bra●dford ; for beyond that she Imagines there 's no land , but Barbary , Where lies her husbands Factor . When from hence Rid is the Countrey Iustice whose non-s●nce Corrupted had the language of the Inne , Where he and his horse litter'd : We beginne To live in silence , when the noyse o th' Bench Not deafens Westminster , nor corrupt French Walkes Fleet - street in her gowne . Ruffes of the Barre , By the Vacations powre translated are , To Cut-worke band● . And who were busie here , Are gone to sow sedition in the shire . The are by this is purg'd , and the Termes strife , Thus fled the City : we the civill life Lead happily . When in the gentle way , Of noble mirth , I have the long liv'd day , Contracted to a moment : I retire To my Castara , and meet such a fire Of mutuall love : that if the City were Infected , that would purifie the ayre .
Loves Aniversarie To the Sunne . THou art return'd ( great Light ) tothat blest houre In which I first by marriage sacred power , Ioyn'd with Castara hearts : And as the same Thy lustie is , as then so is our flame : Which had increast , but that by loves decree , 'T was such at first , it ne're could greater be . But tell me ( glorious Lampe ) in thy survey , Of things below thee , what did not decay By age to weakenesse ? I since that have seene The Rose bud forth and fade , the tree grow greene And wither , and the beauty of the field With Winter wrinkled . Even thy selfe dost yeeld Something to time , and to thy grave fall nigher . But vertuous love is one sweet endlesse fire .
Against them who lay unchastity to the sex of Women . THey meet but with unwholesome Springs , And Summers which infectious are : They heare but when the Meremaid sings , And onely see the falling starre : Who ever dare , Affirme no woman chaste and faire . Goe cure your feavers : and you 'le say The Dog-dayes scorch not all the yeare : In Copper Mines no longer stay , But travell to the West , and there The right ones see : And grant all gold 's not Alchimie . What mad man 'cause the glow-wormes flame Is cold , sweares there 's no warmth in fire ? 'Cause some make forfeit of their name , And slave themselves to mans desire ; Shall the sex free From guilt , damn'd to the bondage be ? Nor grieve Castara , though 't were fraile , Thy Vertue then would brighter shine , When thy example should prevaile , And every womans faith be thine , And were there none ; 'T is Majesty to rule alone .
To the Right Honourable and excellently learned , WILLIAM Earle of St. My Lord , THe Laurell doth your reverend temples wreath As aptly now , as when your youth did breath Those tragicke raptures which your name shall save From the blacke edict of a tyrant grave . Nor shall your Day ere set , till the Sunne shall From the blind heavens like a cynder fall ; And all the elements intend their strife , To ruine what they fram'd ; Then your fames life , When desp'rate Time lies gasping shall expire Attended by the world i th' generall fire . Fame lengthens thus her selfe . And I to tread Your steps to glory , search among the dead , Where Vertue lies obscur'd ; that as I give Life to her tombe , I spight of time may live . Now I resolve in triumph of my verse , To bring great Talbot from that forren hearse , Which yet doth to her fright his dust enclose : Then to sing Herbert who so glorious rose , With the fourth Edward , that his faith doth shine Yet in the faith of noblest Pembrookes line . Sometimes my swelling spirits I prepare To speake the mighty Percy , neerest heire , In merits as in blood , to CHARLES the great : Then Darbies worth and greatnesse to repeat : Or Morleyes honour , or Mounteagl●s fame , Whose valour lives eterniz'd in his name . But while I thinke to sing those of my bloud , And my Castara's ; Loves unruly flo●d Breakes in , and beares away what ever stands , Built by my b●sie fancy on the sands .
To CASTARA , Vpon an embrace . 'BOut th' Husband Oke , the Vine Thus wreathes to kisse his leavy face : Their streames thus Rivers joyne , And lose themselves in the embrace . But Trees want sence when they infold , And Waters when they meet , are cold . Thus Turtles bill , and grone Their loves into each others eare : Two flames thus burne in one , When their curl'd heads to heaven they reare . But Birds want soule though not desire : And flames materiall soone expire . If not prophane ; we 'll say When Angels colse , their joyes are such ▪ For we no love obey That 's bastard to a fleshly touch . Let 's close Castara then since thus We patterne Angels and they us .
To the Honourable , G. T. LEt not thy grones force Eccho from her cave , Or interrupt her weeping o're that wave , Which last Narcissu● kist ; let no darke grove Be taught to whilper stories of thy love . What though the wind be turn'd ? Canst thou not saile By vertue of a cleane contrary gale , Into some other Port ? Where thou wilt find , It was thy better Genius chang'd the wind . To ste●re thee to some Iland in the West , For wealth and pleasure , that transcends thy East . Though Astrodora , like a sullen starre Eclipse her selfe ; I th' sky of beauty are Ten thousand other fires , some bright as she . And who with milder beames , may shine on thee . Nor yet doth this Eclipse beare a portent , That should affright the world : The firmament Enjoyes the light it did , a Sunne as cleare , And the young Spring doth like a Bride appeare , As fairely wed to the Thessalian grove As e're it was , though she and you not love . And we two , who like two bright stars have shin'd I th' heaven of friendship , are as firmely , joyn'd As bloud and love first fram'd us . And to be Lov'd , and thought worthy to be lov'd by thee , I● to be glorious . Since fame cannot lend An honour , equals that of Talbots friend . Nor envie me that my Castara's flame Yeelds me a constant warmth : Though first I cam● To marriage happy Ilands : Seas to thee Will yeeld as smooth away , and winds as free . Which shall conduct thee ( if hope may divine ; ) To this delicious port : and make love thine .
To CASTARA . The reward of Innocent Love . WE saw and woo'd each others eyes , My soule contracted then with thine , And both burnt in one sacrifice . By which our Marriage grew divine . Let wilder youth , whose soule is sense , Prophane the Temple of delight . And purchase endlesse penitence , With the stolne pleasure of one night . Time's ever ours , while we dispise The sensuall idoll of our clay . For though the Sunne doe set and rise , We joy one everlasting day . Whose light no jealous clouds obscure , While each of us shine innocent . The troubled streame is still impure , With vertue flies away content . And though opinion often erre , Wee 'le court the modest smile of fame . For sinnes blacke danger circles her , Who hath infection in her name . Thus when to one darke silent roome , Death shall our loving coffins thrust ; Fame will build columnes on our tombe , And adde a perfume to our dust .
To my noblest Friend , Sir I. P. Knight . Sir , THough my deare Talbots Fate exact , a sad And heavy brow ; my verse shall not be clad For him this houre in mourning : I will write To you the glory of a pompous night , Which none ( except sobriety ) who wit Or cloathes could boast , but freely did admit . I ( who still sinne for company ) was there And tasted of the glorious supper , where Meate was the least of wonder . Though the nest O th' Phaenix rifled seemd t' amaze the feast , And th' Ocean left so poore that it alone Could since vant wretched herring and poore Iohn . Lucullus surfets , were but types of this , And whatsoever riot mention'd is In story , did but the dull Zanye play , To this proud night ; which rather wee 'le terme day . For th' artificall lights so thicke were set , That the bright Sun seem'd this to connterfeit But seven ( whom whether we should Sages call Or deadly sinnes , ●le not dispute ) were all Invited to this pompe . And yet I dare Pawne my lov'd Muse ▪ th' Hungarian did prepare Not halfe that quantity of victuall , when He layd his happy siege to No●ilinghen . The mist of the perfumes was breath'd so thicke That Liex himselfe though his sight fam'd so quicke , Had there scarce spyed one sober : For the wealth Of the Canaries was exhaust , the health Of his good Majestye to celebrate , Who 'le judge them loyall subjects without that : Yet they , who some fond priviledge to maintaine , Would have rebeld ; their best freehold , their braine Surrender'd there ; and five fifteenes did pay To drinke his happy life and raigne . O day It was thy piety to flye ; th' hadst beene Found accessary else to this fond sinne . But I forget to speake each stratagem By which the dishes enter'd , and in them Each luscious miracle , As if more bookes Had written beene o th' mystery of Cookes Then the Philos'phers stone , here we did see All wonders in the kitchin Alchimy . But I le not leave you there , before you part You shall have something of another art . A banquet raining downe so fast , the good Old Patriarch would have thought a generall flood ▪ Heaven open'd and from thence a mighty showre Of Amber comfits it sweete selfe did powre Vpon our heads , and Suckets from our eye Like thickend clouds did steale away the sky , That it was question'd whether heaven were Black-fryers , and ●ach starre a confectioner ▪ But I too long detaine you at a feast You hap'ly surfet of ; now every guest Is reeld downe to his coach ; I licence cravè Sir , but to kisse your hands , and take my leave :
To the Right Honourable Archibald Earle of Ar. IF your example be obey'd The serious few will live i th' silent shade : And not indanger by the wind Or Sunshine , the complexion of their mind : Whose beauty weares so cleare a skin That it decayes with the least taint of sin . Vice growes by custome , nor dare we Reject it as a slave , where it breaths free . And is no priviledge denyed ; Nor if advanc'd to higher place envyed . Wherefore your Lordship in your selfe ( Not lancht fa●re in the maine , nor nigh the shelfe Of humbler fortune ) lives at ●ase , Safe from the rocks oth'shore , and stormes oth'Sea● . Your soule 's a well built City , where There s such munition , that no war breeds feare : No rebels wilde destractions move ; For you the heads have crusht ; Rage , Envy , Love . And therefore you defiance bid To open enmity , or mischiefe hid In fawning hate and supple pride , Who are on every corner fortifide . Your youth not rudely led by rage Of blood , is now the story of your age Which without boast you may averre 'Fore blackest danger , glory did prefer : Glory not purchast by the breath Of Sycophants , but by encountring death . Yet wildnesse nor the feare of lawes Did make you fight , but justice of the cause . For but mad prodigals they are Of fortitude , who for it selfe love warre . When well made peace had clos'd the eyes Of discord , sloath did not your youth surprize . Your life as well as powre , did awe The bad , and to the good was the best law : when most men vertue did pursue In hope by it to grow in fame like you . Nor when you did to court repaire , Did you your manners alter with the ayre . You did your modesty retaine Your faithfull dealing the same tongue and braine . Nor did all the soft flattery there Inchant you so , but still you truth could heare . And though your roofes were richly guilt , The basis was on no wards ruine built . Nor were your vassals made a prey , And for●'t to curse the Coronation day . And though no bravery was knowne To out-shine yours , you onely spent your owne . For 't was the indulgence of fate , To give y' a moderate minde , and bounteous state ? But I , my Lord , who have no friend Of fortune , must begin where you doe end . 'T is dang'rous to approach the fire Of action ; nor is 't safe , farre to retire , Yet better lost i th' multitude Of private men , then on the state t' intrude , And hazard for a doubtfull smile , My stocke of fame , and inward peace to spoile . I le therefore nigh some murm'ring brooke That wantons through my meddowes , with a booke With my Castara , or some friend , My youth not guilty of ambition spend . To my owne shade ( if fate permit ) I le whisper some soft musique of my wit . And flatter so my selfe , I le see By that , strange motion steale into the tree . But still my first and chiefest care Shall be t'app●ase offended heaven with prayer : And in such mold my thoughts to cast , That each day shall be spent as 't were my last . How ere it's sweete lust to obey , Vertue though rugged , is the safest way .
An Elegy upon The Honourable Henry Cambell , sonne to to the Earle of Ar. IT s false Arithmaticke to say thy breath Expir'd to soone , or irreligious death Prophan'd thy holy youth . For if thy yeares Be number'd by thy vertues or our teares , Thou didst the old Methusalem out-live . Though Time , but twenty yeares account can give Of thy abode on earth , yet every houre Of thy brave youth by vertues wondrous po●●re Was lengthen'd to a yeare . Each well-spent day Keepes young the body , but the soule makes gray . Such miracles workes goodnesse : and behind Th' ast left to us such stories of thy minde Fit for example ; that when them we read , We envy earth the treasure of the dead . Why doe the sinfull riot and survive The feavers of their surfets ? Why alive Is yet disorder'd greatnesse , and all they Who the loose lawes of their wilde blood obey ? Why lives the gamester , who doth blacke the night With cheats and imprecations ? Why is light Looked on by those whose breath may poyson it : Who sold the vigor of their strength and wit To buy diseases : and thou , who faire truth And vertue didst adore , lost in thy youth ? But I le not question fate . Heaven doth conveigh Those first from the darke prison of their clay Who are most fit for heaven . Thou in warre Hadst tane degrees , those dangers felt , which are The props on which peace safely doth subsist And through the Cannons blew and horrid mist Hadst brought her light : And now wert so compleat That naught but death did want to make thee great . Thy death was timely then bright soule to thee . And in thy fate thou suffer'dst not . 'T was we Who dyed rob'd of thy life : in whose increase Of reall glory both in warre and peace , We all did share : and thou away we feare Didst with thee , the whole stocke of honour beare , Each then be his owne mourner . Wee 'le to thee Write hymnes , upon the world an Elegie .
To CASTARA , WHy should we feare to melt away in death ; May we but dye together . When beneath In a coole vault we sleepe , the world will prove Religious , and call it the shrine of Love . There , when o th' wedding eve some beautious maid , Suspitious of the faith of man , hath paid The tribute of her vowes ; o th' sudden shee Two violets sprouting from the tombe will see : And cry out , ye sweet emblems of their zeale Who live below , sprang ye up to reveale The story of our future joyes , how we The faithfull patterns of their love shall be ▪ If not ; hang downe yours heads opprest with dew ; And I will weepe and wither hence with you .
To CASTARA , Of what we were before our creation . WHen Pelion wondring saw , that raine which fell But now from angry Heaven , to Heaven ward swell : When th' Indian Ocean did the wanton play , Mingling its billowes with the Balticke sea : And the whole earth was water : O where then Were we Castara ? In the fate of men Lost underneath the waves ? Or to beguile Heaven's justice , lurkt we in Noahs floating Isle ? We had no being then . This fleshly frame Wed to a soule , long after , hither came A stranger to it selfe . Those moneths that were But the last age , no newes of us did heare . What pompe is then in us ? Who th' other day Were nothing ; and in triumph now , but clay .
To the Moment last past . O Whither dost thou flye ? Cannot my vow Intreat thee tarry ? Thou wert here but now , And thou art gone : like ships which plough the Sea , And leave no print for man to tracke their way . O unseene wealth ! who thee did husband , can Out-vie the jewels of the Ocean , The mines of th' earth ! One sigh well spent in thee Had beene a purchase for eternity ! We will not loose thee then . Castara , where Shall we finde out his hidden sepulcher ; And wee 'le revive him Not the cruell stealth Of fate shall rob us , of so great a wealth ▪ Vndone in thriftd while we be sought his stay , Ten of his fellow moments fled away .
To CASTARA . Of the knowledge of Love . WHere steepes the North-wind when the South inspires Life in the spring , and gathers into quires The scatter'd Nightingales ; whose subtle eares Heard first th' harmonious language of the Spheares ; Whence hath the stone Magneticke force t' allure Th' enamourd iron ; From a seed impure Or naturall did first the Mandrake grow ; What powreith ' Ocean makes it ebbe and flow ; What strange materials is the azure skye Compacted of ; of what its brightest eye The ever flaming Sunne ; what people are In th' unknowne world ; what worlds in every star ; Let curious fancies at this secret rove ; Castara what we know , wee 'le practise , Love .
To the Right Honourable the Countesse of C. Madam , SHould the cold Muscovit , whose furre and stove Can scarse prepare him heate enough for love , But view the wonder of your presence , he Would scorne his winters sharpest injury : And trace the naked groves , till he found bayse To write the beautious triumphs of your prayse , As a dull Poet even he would say , Th' unclouded Sun had never showne them day Till that bright minute ; that he now admires No more why the coy Spring so soone retires From their unhappy clyme ; It doth pursue The Sun , and he derives his light from you . Hee 'd tell you how the fetter'd Baltick Sea Is set at freedome , while the yee away ▪ Doth melt at your approach ; how by so faire Harmonious beauty , their rude manners are Reduc't to order ; how to them you bring The wealthiest mines below , above the Spring . Thus would his wonder speake For he would want Religion to beleeve , there were a Saint Within , and all he saw was but the shrine . But I here pay my vowes to the devine Pure essence there inclos'd , which if it were Not hid in a faire cloud , but might appeare In its full lustre , would make Nature live In a state equall to her primitive . But sweetly that s obscur'd . Yet though our eye Cannot the splendor of your soule descry In true perfection , by a glimmering light , Your language yeelds us , we can guesse how bright The Sunne within you shines , and curse th' unkind Eclipse , or else our selves for being blinde . How hastily doth Nature build up man To leave him so imperfect ? For he can See nought beyond his sence ; she doth controule So farre his fight he nere discern'd a soule . For had yours beene the object of his eye ; It had turn'd wonder to Idolatry .
The harmony of Love . AMphi●n , O thou holy shade ! Bring Orpheus up with thee : That wonder may you both invade , Hearing Loves harmony . You who are soule , not rudely made Vp , with Materiall eares , And fit to reach the musique of these spheares . Harke ! when Castara's orbs doe move By my first moving eyes , How great the Symphony of Love , But 't is the destinies Will not so farre my prayer approve , To bring you hither , here Lest you meete heaven , for Elizium there . T is no dull Sublunary flame Burnes in her heart and mine . But something more , then hath a name . So subtle and divine , We know not why , nor how it came . Which shall shine bright , till she And the whole world of love , expire with me .
To my honoured friend Sir Ed. P. Knight . YOu 'd leave the silence in which safe we are , To listen to the noyse of warre ; And walke those rugged paths ▪ the factious tread , Who by the number of the dead Reckon their glories and thinke greatnesse stood Vnsafe , till it was built on blood . Secure i th' wall our Seas and ships provide ( Abhorring wars so barb'rous pride . And honour bought with slaughter ) in content Le ts breath though humble , innocent . Folly and madnesse ! Since 't is ods we nere See the fresh youth of the next yeare . Perhaps not the chast morne , her selfe disclose Againe , t' out-blush th' aemulous rose , Why doth ambition so the mind distresse . To make us scorne what we possesse ? And looke so farre before us ? Since all we Can hope , is varied misery ? Goe find some whispering shade neare A●ne or Poe , And gently 'mong their violets throw Your wearyed limbs , and see if all those faire Enchantments can charme griefe or care ? Our sorrowes still pursue us , and when you The ruin'd Capitoll shall view And statues , a disorder'd heape ; you can Not cure yet the disease of man , And banish your owne thoughts . Goe travaile where Another Sun and Starres appeare , And land not toucht by any covetous fleet , And yet even there your selfe you le meet . Stay here then , and while curious exiles find New toyes for a fantastique mind ; Enjoy at home what 's reall : here the Spring By her aeriall quires doth sing As sweetly to you as if you were laid Vnder the learn'd Thessalian shade , Direct your eye-sight inward , and you 'le find A thousand regions in your mind Yet undiscover'd . Travell them , and be Expert in home Cosmographie . This you may doe safe both from rocke and shelfe : Man 's a whole world within himselfe .
To CASTARA . GIve me a heart where no impure Disorder'd passions rage , Which jealousie doth not obscure , Nor vanity t'expence ingage , Nor wooed to madnesse by queint oathes , Or the fine Rhetoricke of cloathes , Which not the softnesse of the age To vice or folly doth decline ; Give me that heart ( Castara ) for 't is thine . Take thou a heart where no new looke Provokes new appetite : With no fresh charme of beauty tooke , Or wanton stratagem of wit ; Not Idly wandring here and there , Led by an am'rous eye or ea●e . A●ming each beautious ma●ke to hit ; Which vertue doth to one confine : Take thou that heart , Castara , for 't is mine . And now my heart is lodg'd with thee , Observe but how it still Doth listen how thine doth with me ; And guard it well , for else it will Runne hither backe ; not to be where I am , but 'cause thy heart is here . But without discipline , or skill . Our hearts shall freely 'tweene us move ; Should thou or I want hearts , wee 'd breath by love .
To CASTARA . Of true delight . WHy doth the eare so tempt the voyce , That cunningly divides the ayre ? Why doth the palla●e buy the choyce Delights o th' sea , to enrich her fare ? As soone as I , my eare obey The Eccho's lost even with the breath . And when the sewer takes away I 'me left with no more taste , then death . Be curious in pursuite of ey●s To procreate new loves with thine ; Satiety makes sence despise What superstition thought divine . Quicke fancy how it mockes delight ? As we conceive , things are not such , The glow-worme is as warme as bright , Till the decei●full flame we touch . When I have sold my heart to Iust And bought rep●ntance with a kisse I find the malice of my dust , That told me hell contain'd a blisse . The Rose yeelds her sweete blandishment Lost in the fold of lovers wreathes , The violet enchants the sent When earely in the Spring she breaths . But winter comes and makes each flowre Shrinke from the pillow where it growes , Or an intruding cold hath powre To scorne the perfume of the Rose . Our sences like false glasses show Smooth beauty where browes wrinkled are , And makes the cosen'd fancy glow . Chaste vertue 's onely true and faire .
To my noblest Friend , I. C. Esquire . Sir , I Ha●e the Countries durt and manners , yet I love the silence ; I embrace the wit And courtship , flowing here in a full tide . But loathe the expence the vanity and pride . No place each way is happy . Here I hold Commerce with some , who to my eare unfold ▪ ( After a due oath ministred ) the height And greatnesse of each star shines in the state , The brightnesse the eclypse , the influence . With others I commune , who tell me whence The torrent doth of forraigne discord flow : Relate each skirmish , battle , overthrow , Soone as they happen ; and by rote can tell Those Germane townes , even puzzle me to spell . The crosse or prosperous fate of Princes , they Ascribe to rashnes●ee , cunning or delay : And on each action comment , with more skill Then upon Livy , did old Mat●havill . O busie folly ! Why doe I my braine Perplex with the dull pollicies of Spaine , Or quicke designes of France ? Why not repaire To the pure innocence o th' Country ayre : And neighbor thee , deare friend ? Who so dost give Thy thoughts to worth and vertue , that to live Bl●st , is to trace thy wayes . There might not we Arme against passion with Philosophie ; And by the aide of leisure , so controule , What-ere is earth in us , to grow all soule ? Knowledge doth ignorance ingender when We study misteries of other men And forraigne plots . Doe but in thy owne shade ( ●hy head upon some flowry pillow laide , Kind Natures huswifery ) contemplate all His stratagems who laborus to inthrall . The world to his great Master ; and you le finde Ambition mocks it selfe , and grasps the wind Not conquest makes us great . Blood is to deare A price for glory : Honour doth appeare To statesmen like a vision in the night , And jugler-like workes o th' deluded sight . Th' unbusied onely wise : For no respect Indangers them to error ; They affect Truth in her naked beauty , and behold Man with an equall eye , not bright in gold Or tall in title ; so much him they weigh As Vertue raiseth him above his clay . Thus let us value things : And since we find Time bends us toward death , le ts in our mind Create new youth ; and arme against the rude Assaults of age ; that no dull solitude ●th' country dead are thoughts , nor busie care ●th' towne make us not thinke , where now we are And whether we are bound . Time nere forgo● His journey , though his steps we numbred not .
To CASTARA . What Lovers will say when she and he are dead . I Wonder when w' are dead , what men will say ; Will not poore Orphan Lovers weepe , The parents of their Loves decay ; And envy de●th the treasure of our sleepe ? Will not each trembling Virgin bring her feares To th' holy silence of my Vrne ? And chide the Marble with her teares , 'Cause she so soone faith's obsequie must mourne . For had Fate spar'd but Arap●ill ( she 'le say ) He had the great example stood , And fore't unconstant man obey The law of Loves Religion , not of blood . And youth by female perjury betraid , Will to Castara's shrine deplore His injuries , and death obrayd , That woman lives more guilty , then before . For while thy breathing purified the ayre Thy Sex ( hee 'le say ) d●d onely move By the chaste influence of a faire , Whose vertue shin'd in the bright orbe of love . Now woman ▪ like a Meteor vapor'd forth From dung hills , doth amaze our eyes ; Not shining with a reall worth , But subtile her blacke errors to disguise ▪ Thus will they talke , Castara , while our dust In one darke vault shall mingled be . The world will fall a prey to lust , When Love is dead , which hath one fate with me .
To his Muse. HEre Virgin fix thy pillars , and command They sacred may to after ages stand In witnesse of loves triumph . Yet will we Castara , find new worlds in Poetry , And conquer them . Not dully following those Tame lovers , who dare cloth their thoughts in prose . But we will henceforth more Religious prove , Concealing the high mysteries of love From the prophane ▪ Harmonious like the spheares , Our soules shall move , not reacht by humane eares . That Musicke to the Angels , this to fame , I here commit . That when their holy flame , True lovers to pure beauties would rehearse , They may invoke the Genius of my verse .
FINIS .
A Friend

IS a man . For the free and open discovery of thoughts to woman can not passe without an over licentious familiarity , or a justly occasion'd suspition ; and friendship can neither stand with vice nor infamie . He is vertuous , for love begot in sin is a mishapen monster , and seldome out-lives his birth . He is noble , and inherits the vertues of all his progenitors ; though happily unskilfull to blazon his paternall coate ; So little should nobility serve for story , but when it encourageth to action . He is so valiant , feare could never be listned to , when she whisper'd danger ; and yet fights not , unlesse religion confirmes the quarrell lawfull . He submits his actions to the government of vertue , not to the wilde decrees of popular opinion ; and when his conscience is fully satisfied , he cares not how mistake and ignorance interpret him . He hath so much fortitude he can forgive an injurie ; and when hee hath overthrowne his opposer , not insult upon his weaknesse . Hee is an absolute governor ; no destroyer of his passions , which he imployes to the noble increase of vertue . He is wise , for who hopes to reape a harvest from the sands , may expect the perfect offices of friendship from a foole . He hath by a liberall education beene softned to civility ; for that rugged honesty some rude men professe , is an indigested Chaos ; which may containe the seedes of goodnesse , but it wants forme and order .

He is no flutterer ; but when he findes his friend any way imperfect , he freely but gently informes him ; nor yet shall some few errors cancell the bond of friendship ; because he remembers no endeavours can raise ●an above his frailety . He is as slow to enter into that title , as he is to forsake it ; a monstrous vice must disobliege , because an extraordinary vertue did first unite ; and when he parts , he doth it without a duell . He is neither effeminate , nor a common courtier ; the first is so passionate a doater upon himselfe , hee cannot spare love enough : to bee justly named friendship : the latter hath his love so diffusive among the beauties , that man is not considerable . He is not accustomed to any sordid way of gaine , for who is any way mechanicke , will sell his friend upon more profitable termes . He is bountifull , and thinkes no treasure of fortune equall to the preservation of him he loves ; yet not so lavish , as to buy friendship , and perhaps afterward finde himselfe overseene in the purchase . He is not exceptio●s , for jealousie proceedes from weakenesse , and his vertues quit him from suspitions . He freely gives advice , but so little peremptory is his opinion that he ingenuously submits it to an abler judgement . He is open in expression of his thoughts and easeth his melancholy by inlarging it ; and no Sanctuary preserves so safely , as he his friend afflicted . He makes use of no engines of his friendship to extort a secret ; but if committed to his charge , his heart receives it , and that and it come both ●o light together . In life he is the most amiable object to the soule , in death the most deplorable .

The Funerals of the Honourable , my best friend and Kinsman , GEORGE TALBOT , Esquire .
Elegie , 1. T Were malice to thy fame , to weepe alone : And not enforce an universall groane From ruinous man , and make the World complaine : Yet I 'le forbid my griefe to be prophane In mention of thy prayse ; I 'le speake but truth Yet write more honour than ere shin'd in youth . I can relate thy businesse here on earth , Thy mystery of life , thy noblest birth Out-shin'd by nobler vertue : but how farre Th' hast tane thy journey 'bove the highest star , I cannot speake , nor whether thou art in Commission with a Throne , or Cherubin . Passe on triumphant in thy glorious way , Till thou hast reacht the place assign'd : we may Without disturbing the harmonious Spheares , Bathe here below thy memory in our teares . Ten dayes are past , since a dull wonder seis'd My active soule : Loud stormes of sighes are rais'd By empty griefes ; they who can utter it , Doe not vent forth their sorrow , but their wit , I stood like Niobe without a grone , Congeal'd into that monumentall stone That doth lye over thee : I had no roome For witty grie●e , fit onely for thy tombe . And friendships monument , thus had I stood ; But that the flame I beare thee , warm'd my blood With a new life . I le like a funerall fire But burne a while to thee , and then expire .
Elegie , 2. TAlbot is dead . Like lightning which no part O th' body touches , but first strikes the heart , This word hath murder'd me . Ther 's not in al The stocke of sorrow , any charme can call Death sooner up . For musiqu's in the breath Of thunder , and a sweetnesse even i th' death That brings with it , if you with this compare All the loude noyses , which torment the ayre . They cure ( Physitians say ) the element Si●ke with dull vapors , and to banishment Confine infections ; but this fatall shreeke , Without the least redresse , is utter'd like The last dayes summons , when Earths trophies lye A scatter'd heape , and time it selfe must dye . What now hath life to boast of ? Can I have A thought lesse darke than th' horror of the grave Now thou dost dwell below ? Wer 't not a fault Past pardon , to raise fancie 'bove thy vault ? Hayle Sacred house in which his reliques sleepe ? Blest marble give me leave t' approach and weepe , These vowes to thee ! for since great Talb●t's gone Downe to thy silence , I commerce with none But thy pale people : and in that confute Mistaking man , that dead men are not mu●● . Delicious beauty , lend thy flatter'd eare Accustom'd to warme whispers , and thou 'lt heare How their cold language tels thee , that thy skin Is but a beautious shrine , in which black sin Is Idoliz'd ; thy eyes but Spheares where lust Hath its loose motion ; and thy end is dust . Great Atlas of the state , descend with me , But hither , and this vault shall furnish thee With more aviso's , then thy cos●ly spyes , And show how false are all those mysteries Thy Sect receives , and though thy pallace swell With envied pride , 't is here that thou must dwell . It will instruct you , Courtier , that your Art Of outward smoothnesse and a rugged heart But cheates your selfe , and all those subtill wayes You tread to greatnesse , is a fatall maze Where you your selfe shall loose , for though you breath Vpward to pride , your center is beneath . And 't will thy Rhetorick false flesh confound ; Which flatters my fraile thoughts , no time can wound This unarm'd frame , Here is true eloquence Will teach my soule to triumph over sence , Which hath its period in a grave , and there Showes what are all our pompous surfets here . Great Orator ! deare Talbot ! Still , to thee May I an auditor attentive be ▪ And piously maintaine the same commerce We held in life ! and if in my rude verse ● to the world may thy sad precepts read ; I will on earth interpret for the dead .
Elegi● , 3. LEt me contemplate thee ( faire soule ) & though I cannot tracke the way , which thou didst goe In thy coelestiall journey ; and my heart Expanssion wants , to thinke what now thou art How bright and wide thy glories ; yet I may Remember thee , as thou wert in thy clay . Best object to my heart ! what vertues be Inherent even to the least thought of thee ! Death w●h toth ' vig'rous ●eate of ▪ youth brings fe●●● In its leane looke ; doth like a Prince appeare , Now glorious to my eye , since it possest The wealthy empyre of that happie chest Which harbours thy rich dust ; for how can he Be thought a bank'rout that embraces thee ? Sad midnight whispers with a greedy eare I catch from lonely graves , in hope to heare N●wes from the dead , nor can pale visions frigh● His ey● , who since thy death feeles no delight In mans acquaint●nce . Mem'ry of thy fa●e Doth in me a sublimer soule create . And now my sorrow followes thee , I tread The milkie way , and see the snowie head Of Atlas ▪ farre below , while all the high S●olne buildings seeme but atomes to my eye . I 'me heighten'd by my ruine ; and while I Weepe or● the vault where thy sad ashes lye , My soule with thine doth hold commerce above ; Where we discerne the stratagems , which Love , Hate , and ambition , use , to cozen man ; So fraile that every blast of honour can Swell him above himselfe , each adverse gust Him and his glories shiver into dust . How small seemes greatnesse here ! How not a span His empire , who commands the Ocean . Both that , which boasts so much it 's mighty ore , And th' other , which with pearle , ●ath pav'd its shore Nor can it greater seeme , when this great All For which men quarrell so , is but a ball Cast downe into the ayre to sport the starres . And all our generall ruines , mortall warres , Depopulated states , caus'd by their sway ; And mans so reverend wisedome but their play . From thee , deare Talbot , living I did learne The Arts of life , and by thy light discerne The truth , which men dispute . But by thee dead I 'me taught , upon the worlds gay pride to tread : And that way sooner master it , than he To whom both th' Indies tributary be .
Elegie , 4. MY name , deare friend , even thy expiring breath Did call upon : affirming that thy death Would wound m● poor sad heart Sad it must be Indeed , lost to all thoughts of mi●th in thee . My Lord , if I with licence of your teares , ( Which your great brother's hearse as dyamonds weares T' enrich deaths glory ) may but speake my owne● I le pr●ve it , that no sorrow ere was knowne Reall as mine . All other mourners keepe In griefe a method : without forme I weepe . The sonne ( rich in his fathers fate ) hath eyes Wet just as long as are the obsequies . The widow formerly a yeare doth spend In her so courtly blackes . But for a Friend We weepe an age , and more than th' Anchorit , have Our very thoughts confin'd within a Grave . Chast Love who hadst thy tryumph in my flame And thou Castara who had hadst a name , But for this sorrow glorious : Now my verse Is lost to you , and onely on Talbots herse Sadly attends . And till times fatall hand Ruines , what 's left of Churches , there shall stand . There to thy selfe , deare Talbot I le repeate Thy owne brave story ; tell thy selfe how great Thou wert in thy mindes Empire , and how all Who out-live thee , see but the Funerall Of glory : and if yet some vertuous be , They but weake apparitions are of thee . So setled were thy thoughts , each action so Discreetely ordered , that nor ebbe nor flow Was ere perceiv'd in thee : each word mature And every sceane of life from sinne so pure That scarce in its whole history , we can Finde vice enough , to say thou we●t but man . Horror to say thou wert ! Curst that we must Addresse our language to a little dust , And seeke for Talbot there . Injurious fate , To lay my lifes ambition desolate . Yet thus much comfort have I , that I know , Not how it can give such another blow .
Elegie , 5. CHast as the Nuns first vow , as fairely bright As when by death her Soule shines in full light Freed from th' eclipse of Earth , each word that came From thee ( deare Talbot ) did beget a flame T'enkindle vertue : which so faire by thee Became , man that blind mole her face did see . But now to'our eye she 's lost , and if she dwell Yet on the earth ; she 's conffin'd in the cell Of some cold Hermit ; who so keepes her there , As if of her the old man jealous were . Nor ever showes her beauty , but to some Carthusian , who even by his vow , is dumbe ! So 'mid the yce of the farre Northren sea , A starre about the Articke Circle , may Then ours yeeld clearer light ; yet that but shall Serve at the froxen Pilots funerall . Thou ( brightest constellation ) to this maine Which all we sinners traffique on , didst daigne The bounty of thy fire , which with so cleare And constant beames did our frayle vessels steere , That safely we , what storme so ere bore sway , Past ore the rugged Alpes of th' angry Sea . But now we sayle at randome . Every rocke The folly doth of our ambition mocke And splits our hopes : To every Sirens breath We listen and even court the face of death , If painted ore by pleasure : Every wave I ft hath delight w'embrace though 't prove a grave . So ruinous is the defect of thee , To th' undone world in gen'rall . But to me Who liv'd one life with thine , drew but one breath , Possest with th' same mind & thoughts , 't was death . And now by fate : I but my selfe survive , To keepe his mem'ry , and my griefes alive . Where shall I then begin to weepe ? No grove ▪ Silent and darke , but is prophan'd by Love : With his warme whispers , and faint idle feares , His busie hopes , loud sighes , and caselesse teares ●ach ●are is so enchanted ; that no breath Is listned to , which mockes report of death . I le tu●ne my griefe then inward and deplore My ruine to my selfe , repeating ore The story of his vertues ; untill I Not write , but am my selfe his Elegie .
Elegie , 6. GOe stop the swift-wing'd moments in their flight To their yet unknowne coast , goe hinder night From its approach on day , and force day rise From the faire East of some bright beauties eye● : Else vaunt not the proud miracle of verse . It hath no powre . For mine from his blacke herse Redeemes not Tal●ot , who could as the breath Of winter , coffin'd lyes ; silent as death , Stealing on th' Anch'rit , who even wants an eare To breath into his soft expiring prayer . For had thy life beene by thy vertues spun Out to a length , thou hadst ou●-liv'd the Sunne And clos'd the worlds great eye : or were not all Our wonders fiction , from thy funerall Thou hadst received new life , and liv'd to be The conqueror o're death , inspir'd by me . But all we Poets glory in , is vaine And empty triumph : Art cannot regaine One poore houre lost , nor reskew a small flye By a fooles finger destinate to dye . Live then in thy true life ( great soule ) for set At liberty by death thou owest no debt T' exacting Nature : Live , freed from the sport Of time and fortune in yand' starry court A glorious Potentate : while we below But fashion wayes to mitigate our woe . We follow campes , and to our hopes propose Th' insulting victor ; not remembring those Dismembred trunkes who gave him victory By a loath'd fa●e : We covetous Merchants be And to our a●mes pretend treasure and sway , Forgetfull of the treasons of the Sea . The shootings of a wounded conscience We patiently sustaine to serve our sence With a short pleasure ; So we empire gaine And rule the fate of businesse , the sad paine Of action we contemne , and the affright Which with pale visions still attends our night . Our-joyes false apparitions , but our feares Are certaine prophecies . And till our eares Reach that caelestiall musique , which thine now So cheerefully receive , we must allow No comfort to our griefes : from which to be Exempted , is in death to follow thee .
Elegie , 7. THere is no peace in sinne . Aeternall war Doth rage 'mong vices . But all vertues are Friends 'mong themselves , and choisest accents be Harsh Eccho's of their heavenly harmonie . While thou didst live we did that union finde In the so faire republick of thy mind , Where discord never swel'd . And as we dare Affirme those goodly structures , temples are Where well-tun'd quires strike zeale into the eare : The musique of thy soule made us say , there God had his Altars ; every breath a spice And each religious act a sacrifice . But death hath that demolisht . All our eye Of thee now sees doth like a Cittie lye Raz'd by the cannon . Where is then that flame That added warmth and beauty to thy frame ? Fled heaven-ward to repaire , with its pure fire The losses of some maim'd Seraphick quire ? Or hovers it beneath , the world t' uphold From generall ruine , and expell that cold Dull humor weakens it ? If so it be ; My sorrow yet must prayse fates charity . But thy example ( if kinde heaven had daignd Frailty that favour ) had mankind regaind To his first purity . For that the wit Of vice , might not except 'gainst th' Ancherit As too to strickt ; thou didst uncloyster'd live : Teaching the soule by what preservative , She may from sinnes contagion live secure , Though all the ayre she suckt in , were impure ▪ In this darke mist of error with a cleare . Vnspotted light , thy vertue did appeare . T' obray'd corrupted man . How could the rage . Of untam'd lust have scorcht decrepit age ; Had it seene thy chast youth ? Who could the wealth Of time have spent in ryot , or his health By surfeits forfeited ; if he had seene What temperance had in thy dyet beene ? What glorious foole had vaunted honours bought By gold or practise , or by rapin brought From his fore-fathers , had he understood How Talbot valued not his owne great blood ! Had Politiciana seene him scorning more The unsafe pompe of greatnesse , then the poore Thatcht roofes of shepheards , where th' unruly wind ( A gentler storme than pride ) uncheckt doth find Still free admittance : their pale labors had Beene to be good , not to be great and bad . But he is lost in a blind vault , and we Must not admire though sinnes now frequent be And uncontrol'd : Since those faire tables where The Law was writ by death now broken are , By death extinguish t is that Star , whose light Did shine so faithfull : that each ship sayl'd right Which steer'd by that . Nor marvell then if we , ( That failing ) lost in this worlds tempest be . But to What Orbe so ere ●hou dost retyre , Far from our ken : t is blest , while by thy fire Enlighten'd . And since thou must n●ver here Be seene againe : may I ore-take thee there
Elegie , 8. BOast not the rev'rend Vatican , nor all The cunning Pompe of the Escuriall . Though there both th' Indies met in each smal room Th' are short in treasure of this precious tombe . Here is th' Epitome of wealth , this chest Is Natures chiefe Exchequer , hence the East When it is purified by th' generall fire Shall see these now pale ashes sparkle higher Then all the gems she vants : transcending far In fragrant iustre the bright morning star . T is true , they now seeme darke . But rather we Have by a cataract lost sight , then he Though dead his glory . So to us blacke night Brings darkenesse , when the Sun retaines his light . Thou eclips'd dust ! Expecting breake of day From the thicke mists about thy Tombe , I 'le pay Like the just Larke , the tribute of my verse I will invite thee , from thy envious herse To rise , and 'bout the World thy beames to spread , That we may see , there 's brightnesse in the dead , My zeale deludes me not . What perfumes come From th' happy vault ? In her sweete martyrdome The nard breathes never so , nor so the rose When the enamor'd Spring by kissing blowes Soft blushes on her cheeke , nor th' early East Vying with Paradice , i th' Phoenix nest . These gentle perfumes usher in the day Which from the night of his discolour'd clay Breakes on the sudden : for a Soule so bright Of force must to her earth contribute light . But if w' are so far blind , we cannot see The wonder of this truth ; yet let us be Not infidels : nor like dull Atheists give Our selves so long to lust , till we beleive ( T' allay the griefe of sinne ) that we shall fall To a loath'd nothing in our Funerall . The bad mans death is horror . But the just Keepes something of his glory in his dust .
FINIS .

CASTARA : THE THIRD PART .

LONDON Printed by Tho. Cotes , for Will . Cooke . 1640.

A Holy Man

IS onely ▪ Happie . For infelicity and sinne were borne twinnes ; Or rather like some prodigie with two bodies , both draw and expire the same breath . Catholique faith is the foundation on which he erects Religion ; knowing it a ruinous madnesse to build in the ayre of a private spirit , or on the sands of any new schisme . His impietie is not so b●ld to bring divinity downe to the mistake of reason , or to deny those misteries his apprehension reacheth not . His obedience moves still by direction of the Magistrate : And should conscience informe him that the command is unjust ; he judgeth it neverthelesse high treaso● by rebellion to make good his t●●ets ; o● it were the basest cowardize , by dissimulation of religion , to preserve temporall respects . Hee knowes humane pollicie but a crooked rule of action : and therefore by a distrust of his owne knowledge attaines it : Confounding with supernaturall illumination , the opinionated judgment of the wise . In prosperity he gratefully admires the bounty of the Almighty giver , and useth , not abuseth plenty : But in adversity hee remaines unshaken , and like some eminent mountaine hath his head above the clouds . For his happinesse is not meteor-like exhaled from the vapors of this world ; but shines a fixt starre , which when by misfortune it appeares to fall , onely casts away the slimie matter . Poverty he neither feares nor covets , but cheerefully entertaines ; imagining it the fire which tries vertue : Nor how tyrannically soever it usurpe on him , doth he pay to it a sigh or wrinckle : for he who suffers want without reluctancie , may be poore not miserable . He sees the covetous prosper by usury , yet waxeth not leane with envie : and when the posteritie of the impious flourish , he questiones not the divine justice ; for temporall rewards distinguish not ever the merits of men : and who hath beene of councel with the Aeternall ? Fame he weighes not , but esteemes a smoake , yet such as carries with it the sweetest odour , and riseth usually from the Sacrifice of our best actions . Pride he disdaines , when he findes it swelling in himselfe ; but easily forgiveth it in another : Nor can any mans error in life , make him sinne in censure , since seldome the folly we condemne is so culpable as the severity of our judgement . He doth not malice the over-spreading growth of his aequ●lls : but pitties , not despiseth the fall of any man : Esteeming yet no storme of fortune dangerous , but what is rais'd through our owne demerit . When he lookes on others vices , he values not himselfe vertuous by comparison , but examines his owne defects , and findes matter enough at home for reprehension : In conversation his carriage is neither plausible to flattery , nor reserv'd to rigor : but so demeanes himselfe as created for societie . In solitude he remembers his better part is Angelicall ; and therefore his minde practiseth the best discourse without assistance of inferiour Organs . Lust i● the Basiliske he flyes , a Serpent of the most destroying venome : for it blasts al plants with the breath , & carries the most murdering Artillery in the eye : He is ever merry but still modest . Not dissolved into undecent laughter , or tickled with wit scurrilous or injurious . He cunningly searcheth into the vertues of others , and liberally commends them : but buries the vices of the imperfect in a charitable silence , whose manners he reformes not by invectives but example : In prayer he is frequent not apparent : yet as he labours not the opinion , so he foares not the scandall of being thought good . He every day travailes his meditations up to heaven , and never findes himself wearied with the journey : but when the necessities of nature returne him downe to earth , he esteemes it a place , hee is condemned to . Devotion is his Mistresse en which he is passionately enamord : for that he hath found the most Soveraigne antidote aganst sinne , and the onely balsome powerfull to cure those wounds hee hath receav'd through frailety . To live he knowes a benefit , and the contempt of it ingratitude , and therefore loves , but not doates on life . Death how deformed soever an aspect it weares , he is not frighted with : since it not annihilates , but uncloudes the soule . He therefore stands every moment prepared to dye● and though he freely yeelds up himselfe , when age or sickenesse sommon him ; yet he with more alacritie puts off his earth , when the profession of faith crownes him a martyr .

Domine labia mea aperies DAVID . NOe monument of me remaine , My mem orie rust In the same marble with my dust : Ere I the spreadingst Laurell gaine , By writing wanton or profane . Ye glorious wonders of the skies , Shine still bright starres , Th' Almighties mystick Characters ! I le not your beautious lights surprize T' illuminate a womans eyes ▪ Nor to perfume her veines , will I In each one set The purple of the violet . The untoucht flowre may grow and dye Safe from my fancie● injurie . Open my lippes , great God! and then I le soare above The humble flight of carnall love . Vpward to thee I le force my pen , And trace no path of vulgar men . For what can our unbounded soules Worthy to be Their object finde , excepting thee ? Where can I fixe ? since time controuses Our pride , whose motion all thing● roules . Should I my selfe ingratiate T● a Princes smile ; How soone may death my hopes beguile ? And should I farme the proudest state , I 'me Tennant to uncertaine fate . If I court gold ; will it not rust ? And if my love Toward a female beauty move ; How will that surfet of our lust Distast us , when resolv'd to dust ? But thou Aeternall banquet ! where For ever we May feede without satietie ! Who harmonie art to the eare , Who art , while all things else appeare ! While up to thee I shoote my flame Thou dost dispence A holy death , that murders sence , And makes me scorne all pompes , that ayme At other triumphes than thy name . It crownes me with a victory So heavenly , all That 's earth from me away doth fall . And I , from my corruption free , Grow in my vowes even part of thee ▪
Versa est in luctum cythara mea . IOB . LOve ! I no orgies sing Whereby thy mercies to invoke : Nor from the East rich perfumes bring To cloude thy Altars with the precious smoake . Nor while I did frequent Those fanes by lovers rais'd to thee : Did I loose heathenish rites invent , To force a blush from injur'd Chastitie . Religious was the charme I used affection to intice : And thought none burnt more bright or warme , Ye● chaste as winter was the Sacrifice . But now I thee bequeath To the soft silken youths at Court : Who may their witty passions breath , To raise their Mistresse smile , or make her sport . They 'le smooth thee into rime , Such as shall catch the wanton eare : And win opinion with the time , To make them a high sayle of honour beare . And may a powerfull smile Cherish their flatteries of wit ! While I my life of fame beg●ile And under my owne vine uncourted sit . For I have scene the Pine Famed for its travels ore the Sea : Broken with stormes and age decline , And in some creeke unpittied rot away . I have seene Caedars fall , And in their roome a Mushrome grow : I have seene Comets , threatning all , Vanish themselves : I have seene Princes so . Vaine triviall dust ! weake man ! Where is that vertue of thy breath , That others save or ruine can , When thou thy selfe art cal'd t' account by death ? When I consider thee The scorne of Time , and sport of fate : How can I turne to jollitie My ill-strung Harpe , and court the delicate ? How can I but disdaine The emptie fallacies of mirth ; And in my midnight thoughts retaine , How high so ere I spread , my root 's in earth ? Fond youth ! too long I playd The wanton with a false delight . Which when I toucht , I found a shade That onely wrought on th' error of my ●ight . Then since pride doth betray The soule to flatter'd ignorance : I from the World will steale away And by humility my thoughts advance .
Perdam Sapientiam Sapientum To the Right Honorable the Lord Windsor . My Lord FOrgive my envie to the World ; while I Commend those sober thoughts perswade you fly The glorious troubles of the Court. For though The vale lyes open to each overflow , And in the humble sh●de we gather ill And aguish ayres : yet lightnings oftner kill O th' naked heights of mountaines , whereon we May have more prospect , not securitie . For when with losse of breath , we have orecome Some steepe ascent of power , and forc'd a roome On the so envi'd hill ; how doe our hearts Pant with the labour , and how many arts More subtle must we practise , to defend Our pride from sliding , then we did t' ascend ? How doth successe delude the mysteries And all th' involv'd designements of the wise ? How doth that Power , our Pollitickes call chance , Racke them till they confesse the ignorance Of humane wit ? Which , when 't is fortified So strong with reason that it doth deride All adverse force o th' sudden findes its head In●angled in a spiders slender thread . Coelestiall Providence ! How thou dost mocke The boast of earthly wisdome ? On some rocke When man hath a structure , with such art , It doth disdaine to tremble at the dart Of thunder , or to shrinke oppos'd by all The angry winds , it of it selfe doth fall , Ev'n in a calme so gentle that no ayre Breaths loude enough to stirre a Virgins hai●e ! But misery of judgement ! Though past time Instruct us by th' ill fortune of their crimes , And shew us how we may secure our state From pittied ruine , by anothers fate ; Yet we contemning all such sad advice , Pursue to build thougth on a precipice . But you ( my Lord ) prevented by foresight To engage your selfe to such an unsafe height , And in your selfe both great and rich enough Resused t' expose your vessell to the rough Vncertaine sea of businesse : whence even they Who make the best returne , are forc't to say : The wealth we by our worldly traffique gaine , Weighes light if ballanc'd with the feare or paine .
Paucitatem dierum meorum nuncia mihi . DAVID . TEll me O great All knowing God ▪ What period Hast thou unto my dayes assign'd ? Like some old leafelesse tree , shall I Wither away : or violently Fall by the axe , by lightning , or the Wind ? Heere , where I first drew vitall breath Shall I meete death ? And finde in the same vault a roome Where my ●ore-fathers ashes s●eepe ? Or shall I dye , where none shall weepe My timelesse fate , and my cold earth intombe ? Shall I'gainst the swift Parthians fight And in their flight Receive my death ? Or shall I see That envied peace , in which we are , Triumphant yet , disturb'd by warre ; And perish by th' invading enemie ? Astrologers , who calculate Vncertaine fate Affirme my scheme doth not presage Any abridgement of my dayes : And the Phisitian gravely sayes , I may enjoy a reverent length of age . But they are jugglers , and by slight Of art the sight Of faith delude : and in their schoole They onely practise how to make A mistery of each mistake , And teach strange words credulity to foole . For thou who first didst motion give , Whereby things live And Time hath being ! to conceale Future events did●t thinke it fit To checke th' ambition of our wit , And keepe in awe the curious search of zeale . Therefore so I prepar'd still be , My God for thee : O th' sudden on my spirits may Some killing Apoplexie se●ze , Or let me by a dull disease Or weakened by a feeble age decay . And so I in thy favour dye , No memorie For me a well-wrought tombe prepare , For if my soule be 'mong the blest Though my poore ashes want a ch●st , I shall forgive the trespasse of my heire .
Non nobis Domine DAVID . NO marble statue , nor high Aspiring Piramid be rays'd To lose its head within the skie ! What claime have I to memory ? God be thou onely prais'd ! Thou in a moment canst defeate The mighty conquests of the proude , And blast the laurels of the great . Thou canst make brightest glorie set O th' sudden in a cloude . How can the feeble workes of Art Hold our 'gainst the assault of stormes ? Or how can brasse to him impart Sence of surviving fame , whose heart Is now resolv'd to wormes ? Blinde folly of triumphing pride ! Aeternitie why build●t thou here ? Dost thou not see the highest tide Its humbled streame in th' Ocean hide , And n●●●●he same appeare ? That tide which did its banckes ore-flow , As sent abroad by th' angry sea To levell vastest buildings low , And all our Trophes overthrow ; Ebbes like a theefe away . And thou who to preserve thy name Leav'st statues in some conquer'd land ! How will posterity scorne fame , When th' Idoll shall receive a maime , And loose a foote or hand ? How wilt thou hate thy warres , when he Who onely for his Fire did raise Th● counterfet in stone ; with thee Shall stand Competitor , and be Perhapes thought worthier praise ? No Laurell wreath about my brow ! To thee , my God , all praise , whose law The conquer'd doth and conqueror bow ! For both dissolve to ayre , if thou Thy influence but withdraw .
Solum mihi superest s●pulchruu● . IOB . WElcome thou safe retreate ! Where th' injured man may fortifie 'Gainst the invasions of the great : Where the leane slave , who th' Oare doth plye , Soft as his Admirall may lye . Great Statist ! t is your doome Though your defignes swell high , and wide : To be contracted in a tombe ! And all your happie cares provide But for your heire authorized pride . Nor shall your shade delight I th' pompe of your proud obsequies . And should the present flatterie write : A glorious Epitaph , the wise Will say , The Poets w●● here lyes . How reconcil'd to fate Will grow the aged Villager , When he shall see your funerall state ? Since death will him as warme inter As you in your gay sepulcher . The great decree of God Makes every path of mortals lead To this darke common period . For what by wayes so ere we tread , We end our journey 'mong the dead . Even I , while humble zeale Makes fancie a sad truth indite , Insensible a way doe steale : And when I 'me lost in deaths cold night , Who will remember , now I write ?
Et fugit velut umbra . IOB . To the Right Honourable the Lord Kintyre . My Lord THat shadow your faire body made So full of sport it still the mimick playde Ev'n as you mov'd and look'd but yesterday So huge in stature ; Night hath stolne away . And this is th' emblem of our life : To please And flatter which , we sayle ore broken seas Vnfaithfull in their rockes and tides ; we dare All the sicke humors of a forraine ayre . And mine so deepe in earth , as we would trie To unlocke hell , should gold there hoarded lie . But when we have built up an aedefice T'outwrastle Time , we have but built on ice : For firme lowever all our structures be , Polisht with smoothest Indian Ivory , Rais'd high on marble , our unthankfull heire Will scarce retaine in memory , that we were ▪ Tracke through the ayre the footesteps of the wind , And search the print of ships sayl'd by ; then finde Where all the glories of those Monarchs be Who bore such sway in the worlds infancie . Time hath devour'd them all : and scarce can fame Give an account , that ere they had a name . How can he then who doth the world controle And strikes a terror now in either Pole , Th' insulting Turke secure himselfe that he Shall not be lost to dull Posterity ? And though the Superstition of those Times Which de●fied Kings to warrant their owne crimes Translated Caesar to a starre ; yet they , Who every Region of the skie Survay ; In their Coelestiall travaile , that bright coast Could nere discover which containes his ghost . And after death to make that awe survive Which subjects owe their Princes yet alive , Though they build pallaces of bralle and jet And keepe them living in a counterfet ; The curious looker on soone passes by And findes the tombe a sickenesse to his eye . Neither when once the soule is gone doth all The solemne triumph of the funerall Adde to her glory or her paine release : Then all the pride of warre , and wealth of peace For which we toild , from us abstracted be And onely serve to swell the history . These are sad thoughts ( my Lord ) and such as fright The easie soule made tender with delight , Who thinkes that he hath forfetted that houre Which addes not to his pleasure or his powre . But by the friendship which your Lordship daignes Your Servant , I have found your judgement raignes Above all passion in you : and that sence Could never yet demolish that strong fence Which Vertue guards you with : By which you are Triumphant in the best , the inward warre .
Nox nocti indicat Scientiam DAVID . WHen I survay the bright Coelestiall spheare : So rich with jewels ●ung ▪ that night Doth like an Aethiop bride appeare . My soule her wings doth spread And heaven-ward flies , Th' Almighty's Mysteries to read In the large volumes of the skies . For the bright firmament Shootes forth no flame So silent , but is eloquent In speaking the Creators name . No unregarded star Contracts its light Into so small a Charactar , Remov'd far from our humane sight : But if we stedfast looke , We shall discerne In it as in some holy booke , How man may heavenly knowledge learne . It tells the Conqueror , That farre-stretcht powre Which his proud dangers traffique for , Is but the triumph of an houre . That from the farthest North ; Some Nation may Yet undiscovered issue forth , And ore his new got conquest sway . Some Nation yet shut in With hils of ice May be let out to scourge his sinne 'Till they shall equall him in vice . And then they likewise shall Their ruine have , For as your selves your Empires fall , And every Kingdome hath a grave . Thus those Coelestiall fires , Though seeming mute The fallacie of our desires And all the pride of life confute . For they have watcht since first The World had birth : And found sinne in it selfe accurst , And nothing permanent on earth .
Et alta a longè cognoscit . DAVID . TO the cold humble hermitage ( Not tenanted but by discoloured age , Or youth enfeebled by long prayer And tame with fasts ) th' Almighty doth repaire ▪ But from the lofty gilded roofe Stain'd with some Pagan fiction , keepes a loofe . Nor the gay Landlord daignes to know Whose buildings are like Monsters but for show . Ambition ! whither wilt thee climbe , Knowing thy art , the mooker● of time ? Which by examples tells the high Rich structures , they must as their owners dye : And while they stand , their tennants are Detraction , flatt'ry , wantonnesse , and care , Pride , envie , arrogance , and doubt , Surfet , and ease still tortured by the gout . O rather may I patient dwell In th' injuries of an ill-cover'd cell ! Gainst whose too weake defence the haile , The angry winds , and frequent showres prevaile . Where the swift measures of the day , Shall be distinguisht onely as I pray : And some starres solitary light Be the sole taper to the tedious night ▪ The neighbo'ring fountaine ( not accurst Like wine with madnesse ) shall allay my thirst : And the wilde fruites of Nature give Dyet enough , to let me feele I feele , I live ▪ You wantons ! who improverish Seas , And th' ayre dispeople , your proud taste to please ! A greedy tyrant you obey ▪ Who varies still its tribu●e with the day . What interest doth all the vaine Cunning of surfet to your sences gaine ? Since it obscure the Spirit must And bow the flesh to sleepe disease or lust . While who forgetting rest and fare ; Watcheth the fall and rising of each starre , Ponders how bright the orbes doe move , And thence how much more bright the heav'ns abov● Where on the heads of Cherubins Th' Almightie sits dis●aining our bold sinnes : Who while on th' earth we gr●veling lye Dare in our pride of building tempt the skie .
Universum statum ejus versasti in infirmitate ejus . DAVID . MY Soule ! When thou and I Shall on our frighted death-bed lye ; Each moment watching when pale death Shall snatch away our latest breath , And 'tweene two long joyn'd Lovers force An endlesse sad divorce : How wilt thou then ? that art My rationall and nobler part , Distort thy thoughts ? How wilt thou try To draw from weake Philosophie Some strength : and flatter thy poore state , 'Cause t is the common fate ? How will thy spirits pant And tremble when they feele the want Of th' usuall organs ; and that all The vitall powers begin to fall ? When 't is decreed , that thou must goe , Yet whether ; who can know ? How fond and idle then Will seeme the misteries of men ? How like some dull ill-acted part The subtlest of proud humane art ? How shallow ev'n the deepest sea , When thus we ebbe away ? But how shall I ( that is My fainting earth ) looke pale at this ? Disjointed on the racke of paine . How shall I murmur , how complaine ; And craving all the ayde of skill , Finde none , but what must kill ? Which way so ere my griefe Doth throw my fight to court releefe , I shall but meete despaire ; for all Will prophesie my funerall : The very silence of the roome Will represent a tombe . And while my Childrens teares , My Wives vaine hopes , but certaine feares , And councells of Divines adv●nce Death in each dolefull circumstance : I shall even a sad mourner be At my owne obsequie . For by examples I Must know that others sorrowes dye Soone as our selves , and none survive To keepe our memories alive . Even our fals tombes , as loath to say We once had life , decay .
Laudate Dominum de caelis DAVID . YOu Spirits ! who have throwne away That enveous weight of clay Which your caelestiall flight denyed : Who by your glorious troopes supply The winged Hierarchie , So broken in the Angells pride ! O you ! whom your Creators sight Inebriates with delight ! Sing forth the triumphs of his name All you enamord soules ! agree In a loud symphonie : To give expressions to your flame ! To him , his owne great workes relate , Who daign'd to elevate You 'bove the frailtie of your birth : Where you stand safe from that rude warre , With which we troubled are By the rebellion of our earth While a corrupted ayre beneath Here in this World we breath Each houre some passion us assailes : Now lust casts wild-fire in the blood , Or that it may seeme good , It selfe in wit or beauty vailes . Then envie circles us with hate , And layes a siege so streight , No heavenly succor enters in : But if Revenge admittance finde , For ever hath the mind Made forseit of it selfe to sinne . Assaul●ed thus , how dare we raise Our mindes to thinke his praise , Who is Aeternall and immens ? How dare we force our feeble wit To speake him infinite , So farre above the search of sence ? ▪ O you ! who are immaculate His name may celebrate In your soules bright expansion . You whom your vertues did unite To his perpetuall light , That even with him you now shine one . W●ile we who t' earth contract our hearts , And onely studie Arts To shorten the sad length of Time : In place of joyes bring humble feares : For hymnes , repentant teares And a new sigh for every crime .
Qui quasi flos egreditur . To the Right Honourable , the Lady Cat. T. FAire Madam ! You May see what 's man in yo●d' bright rose ▪ Though it the wealth of Nature owes , It is opprest , and bends with dew . Which shewes , though fate May promise still to warme our lippes , And keepe our eyes from an ecclips ; It will our pride with teares abate . P●ore ●illy flowre ! Though in thy beauty thou presume , And breath which doth the spring presume ▪ Thou may'●t be cropt this very houre . And though it may Then thy good fortune be , to rest O th' pillow of some Ladies brest ; Thou 'lt wither , and be throwne away . For 't is thy doome However , that there shall appeare No memory that thou grew'st heere , Ere the tempestuous winter come . But flesh is lo●th By meditation to fore see How loath'd a nothing it must be : Proud in the triumphes of its growth . And tamely can Behold this mighty world decay And weare by th' age of time away : Yet not discourse the fall of man . But Madam these Are thoughts to cure sicke humane pride ▪ And med'cines are in vaine applyed , To bodies far 'bove all disease . For you so live As th' Angels in one perfect state ; Safe from the ruines of our fate , By vertues great preservative . And though we see Beautie enough to warme each heart ; Yet you by a chaste Chimicke Art , Calcine fraile love to pietie .
Quid gloriaris in malicia ? DAVID . SWell no more proud man , so high ▪ For enthron'd where ere you sit Rais'd by fortune , sinne and wit : In a vault thou dust must lye . He who 's lifted up by vice Hath a neighb'ring precipice ▪ Dazeling his distorted eye . Shallow is that unsafe sea Over which you spread your saile : And the Barke you trust to , fraile As the Winds it must obey Mischiefe , while it prospers , brings ▪ Favour from the smile of Kings Vselesse soone is throwne away , Profit , though sinne it extort , Princes even accounted good , Courting greatnesse nere withstood , Since it Empire doth support . But when death makes them repent They condemne the instrument , And are thought Religious for 't . Pitch'd downe from that height you beare , How distracted will you lye ; When your flattering Clients flye As your fate infectious were ? When of all th' obsequious throng That mov'd by your eye and tongue N●ne shall in the storme appeare ? When that abject insolence ( Which submits to the more great , And disdaines the weaker state , As misfortune were offence ) Shall at Court be judged a crime Though in practise , and the Time Purchase wit at your expence . Each small tempest shakes the proud ; Whose large branches vainely sprout 'Bove the measure of the roote . But let stormes speake nere so loud , And th' astonisht day benight ; Yet the just shines in a light Faire as noone without a cloud .
Deus Deus Meus . DAVID . WHere is that foole Philosophie , That bed●am Reason , and that beast dull sence ; Great God! when I consider thee , Omnipotent , Aeternall , and imens ? Vnmov'd thou didst behold the pride Of th' Angels , when they to defection fell ? And without passion didst provide To punish treason , rackes and death in hell . Thy Word created this great All , I th' lower part whereof we wage such warres : The upper bright and sphaericall By purer bodies tenanted , the starres . And though sixe dayes it thee did please To build this frame , the seventh for rest t' assigne ▪ Yet was it not thy paine or ease , But to teach man the quantities of Time . This world so mighty and so faire , So'bove the reach of all dimension : If to thee God we should compare , Is not the slenderst at●me to the Sun . What then am I poore nothing man ! That elevate my voyce and speake of thee ? Since no imagination can Distinguish part of thy immensitie ? What am I who dare call thee God! And raise my fancie to discourse thy power ? To whom dust is the period , Who am not sure to farme this very houre ? For how know I the latest sand In my fraile glasse of life , doth not now f●ll ? And while I thus astonisht stand I but prepare for my owne funerall ? Death doth with man no order keepe : It reckons not by the expence of yeares . But makes the Queene and beggar weepe , And nere distinguishes betweene their teares . He who the victory doth gaine Falls as he him pursues , who from him flyes , And is by too good fortune slaine . The Lover in his amorous courtship dyes . The states-man suddenly expires While he for others ruine doth prepare : And the gay Lady while sh' admires Her pride , and curles in wanton nets her haire . No state of man is fortified 'Gainst the assault of th' universall doome : But who th' Almightie feare , deride Pale death , and meete with triumph in the tombe .
Quoniam ego in flagella paratus sum . DAVID . FIX me on some bleake precipice , Where I ten thousand yeares may stand : Made now a statue of ice , Then by the sommer scorcht and tan'd ▪ Place me alone in some fraile boa●e ‛ Mid th' horrors of an angry Sea : Where I while time shall move , may floate Despairing either land or day ! Or under earth my youth confine To th' night and silence of a cell : Where Scorpions may my limbes entwine . O God! So thou forgive me hell . Aeternitie ! when I thinke thee , ( Which never any end must have , Nor knew'st beginning ) and fore-see Hell is design'd for sinne a grave . My frighted flesh trembles to dust , My blood ebbes fearefully away : Both guilty that they did to lust And vanity , my youth be●ray . My eyes , which from each beautious sight Drew Spider-like blacke venome in : Close like the marigold at night Opprest with dew to bath my sin . My eares shut up that easie dore Which did proud fallacies admit : And vow to heare no follies more ; De●fe to the charmes of sinne and wit . My hands ( which when they toucht some f●ire ▪ Imagin'd such an excellence , As th' Ermines skin ungentle were ) Contract themselves , and loose all sence . But you bold sinners ! still pursue Your valiant wickednesse , and brave Th' Almighty Iustice : hee 'le subdue And make you cowards in the grave . Then when he as your judge appeares , In vaine you 'le tremble and lament . And hope to soften him with teares , To no advantage penitent . Then will you scorne those treasures , which So fiercely now you doate upon : Then curse those pleasures did bewitch You to this sad illusion . The neighb'ring mountaines which you shall Wooe to oppresse you with their weight : Disdainefull will deny to fall ▪ By a sad death to ease your fate . In vaine some midnight storme at sea To swallow you , you will desire : In vaine upon the wheele you le pray Broken with torments to expire . Death , at the fight of which you start , In a mad fury then you 'le Court : Yet hate th' expressions of your heart , Which onely shall be sigh'd for sport . No sorrow then shall enter in With pitty the great judges eares . This moment's ours . Once dead , his sin Man cannot expia●e with teares .
Militia est vita hominis . To Sir Hen Per. Sir WEre it your appetite of glory , ( which In noblest times , did bravest soules bewitch To fall in love with danger , ) that now drawes You to the fate of warre ; it claimes applause : And every worthy hand would plucke a bough From the best spreading bay , to shade your brow . Since you unforc'd part from your Ladies bed Warme with the purest love , to lay your head Perhaps on some rude turfe , and sadly feele The nights cold dampes wrapt in a shee●e of steele . You leave your well grown woods ; and medows which Our Severne doth with fruitfull streames enrich . Your woods where we see such large heards of Deere Your meades whereon such goodly flockes appeare . You leave your Castle , safe both for defence And sweetely wanton with magnificence With all the cost and cunning beautified That addes to state , where nothing wants but pride . These charmes might have bin pow'rful to have staid Great mindes resolv'd for action , and betraid You to a glorious ease : since to the warre Men by desire of prey invited are , Whom either sinne or want makes desperate Or else disdaine of their owne narrow fate , But you nor hope of fame or a release Of the most sober goverment in peace , Did to the hazar'd of the armie bring : Onely a pure devotion to the King In whose just cause whoever fights , must be Triumphant : since even death is victory . And what is life , that we to wither it To a weake wrinckled age , should torture wit To finde out Natures secrets ; what doth length Of time deserve , if we want heate and strength ? When a brave quarrell doth to arm●s proyoke Why should we feare to venter this thin smoke This emptie shadow , life ? t●is which the wise As the fooles Idoll , soberly despise ? Why should we not throw willingly away A game we cannot save , now that we may Gaine honour by the gift ? since haply when We onely shall be statue of men And our owne monuments , Peace will deny Our wretched age so brave a 'cause to dye . But these are t●oughts ! And action t is doth give A soule to courage , and make vertue live : Which doth not dwell upon the valiant tongue Of bold Philosophie , but in the strong Vndaunted spirit , which encounters those Sad dangers , we to fancie scarce propose Yet t is the true and highest fortitude To keepe our inward enemies subdued : Not to permit our passions over sway Our actions , nor our wanton fl●sh betray The soules chaste Empire : for however we To th' outward shew may gaine a victory And proudly triumph : if to conquour sinne We combate not , we are at warre within .
Vias tuas Domine demonstr a mihi . WHere have I wandred ? In what way Horrid as night Increast by stormes did I delight ? Though my sad soule did often say T' was death and madnesse so to stray . On tha● false ground I joy'd to tread Which seem'd most faire , Though every path had a new snare , And every turning still did lead , To the darke Region of the dead . But with the surfet of delight I am so tyred That now I loath what I admired , And my distasted appetite So 'bhors the meate , it hates the sight . For should we naked sinne discry Not beautified By th' ayde of wantonnesse and pride Like some mishapen birth 't would lye A torment to th' affrighted eye . But cloath'd in beauty and respect Even ore the wise , How powerfull doth it tyrannize ! Whose monstrous forme should they detract They famine sooner would affect . And since those shadowes which oppresse My sight begin To cleere , and show the shape of sinne , A Scorpion sooner be my guest , And warme his venome in my brest . May I before I grow so vile By sinne agen , Be throwne off as a scorne to men ! May th' angry world decree , t' excile Me to some yet unpeopled Isle . Where while I straggle , and in vaine Labor to finde Some creature that shall have a minde , What justice have I to complaine If I thy inward grace retaine ? My God if thou shalt not exclude Thy comfort thence : What place can seeme to troubled sence So melancholly darke and rude , To be esteem'd a solitude . Cast me upon some naked shore Where I may tracke Onely the print of some sad wracke ; If thou be there , though the seas roare , I shall no gentler calme implore . Should the Cymmerians , whom no ray Doth ere enlight But gaine thy grace , th' have lost their night : Not sinners at high noone , but they 'Mong their blind cloudes have found the day .
Et Exaltavit Humiles . HOw cheerefully th' unpartiall Sunne Gilds with his beames The narrow streames O th' Brooke which silently doth runne Without a name ? And yet disdaines to lend his flame To the wide channell of the Thames ? The largest mountaines barren lye And lightning feare , Though they appeare To bid defiance to the skie ; Which in one houre W' have seene the opening earth devoure When in their height they proudest were . But th' humble man heaves up his head Like some rich vale Whose fruites nere faile With flowres , with corne , and vines ore-spread . Nor doth complaine Oreflowed by an ill season'd raine Or batter'd by a storme of haile . Like a tall Barke with treasure fraught He the seas cleere Doth quiet steere : But when they are t' a tempest wrought ; More gallantly He spreads his saile , and doth more high By swelling of the waves , appeare . For the Almighty joyes to force The glorious tide Of humane pride To th' lowest ebbe ; that ore his course ( Which rudely bore Downe what oppos'd it heretofore ) His feeblest enemie may stride . But from his ill-thatcht roofe he brings The Cottager And doth preferre Him to th' adored state of Kings : He bids that hand Which labour hath made rough and ●and The all commanding Scepter beare . Let then the mighty cease to boast Their boundlesse sway : Since in their Sea ▪ Few sayle , but by some storme are lost . Let them themselves Beware for they are their owne shelves Man still himselfe hath cast away .
Dominus Dominantium . SVpreame Divinitie ! Who yet Could ever finde By the bold scrutinie of wit , The treasurie where thou lock'st up the wind ? What Majesty of Princes can A tempest awe ; When the distracted Ocean Swells to Sedition , and obeyes no Law ? How wretched doth the Tyrant stand Without a boast ? When his rich flee●e even touching land He by some storme in his owne Port sees lost ? Vaine pompe of life ! what narrow bound Ambition Is circled with ? How false a ground Hath humane pride to build its triumphs on ? And Nature how dost thou delude Our search to know ? When the same windes which here intrude On us with frosts and onely winter blow : Breath temprate on th' adjoyning earth ; And gently bring To the glad field a fruitfull birth With all the treasures of a wanton Spring . How diversly death doth assaile ; How sporting kill ? While one is scorcht up in the vale The other is congeald o th' neighboring hill . While he with heates doth dying glow Above he sees The other hedg'd in with his snow And envies him his ice although he freeze . Proud folly of pretending Art , Be ever dumbe . And humble thy aspiring heart , When thou findest glorious Reason overcome . And you A strologers , whose eye Survayes the starres ! And off●r thence to prophesie Successe in peace , and the event of warres . Throw downe your eyes upon that dust You proudly tread ! And know to that resolve you must ! That is the scheme where all their fate may read .
Cogitabo pro peccato meo . IN what darke silent grove Profan'd by no unholy love . Where witty melancholy nere Did carve the trees or wound the ayre , Shall I religious leasure winne To weepe away my sinne ? How fondly have I spent My youthes unvalued treasure , lent To traffique for Coelestiall joyes ? My unripe yeares pursuing toyes ; Iudging things best that were most gay ▪ Fled unobserv'd away . Growne elder I admired Our Poets as from heaven inspired What Obeliskes decreed I fit For spencers Art , and Sydnyes wit ? But waxing sober soone I found ▪ Fame but an Idle sound . Then I my blood obey'd And each bright face an Idoll made : Verse in an humble Sacrifice , I offer'd to my Mistresse eyes . But I no sooner grace did win But met the devill within . But growne more polliticke I tooke account of each state tricke : Observ'd each motion , judg'd him wise , Who had a conscience fit to rise . Whom soone I found but forme and rule And the more serious foole . But now my soule prepare To ponder what and where we are How fraile is life , how vaine a breath ▪ Opinion , how uncertaine death : How onely a poore stone shall beare Witnesse that once we were . How a shrill . Trumpet shall Vs to the barre as traytors call . Then shall we see too late that pride Hath hope with flattery bely'd And that the mighty in command Pale Cowards there must stand .
Recogitabo tibi omnes annos meos . ISAY . TIme ! where didst thou those yeares inter Which I have seene decease ? My soules at war and truth bids her ▪ Finde out their hidden Sepulcher , To give her troubles peace . Pregnant with flowers doth not the Spring Like a late bride appeare ? Whose fether'd Musicke onely bring Caresses , and no Requiem sing On the departed yeare ? The Earth , like some rich wanton heire , Whose Parents coffin'd lye , Forgets it once lookt pale and bare And doth for vanities prepare , As the Spring nere should dye . The present houre , flattered by all Reflects not on the last ; But I , like a sad factor shall T' account my life each moment call , And onely weepe the past . My mem'ry trackes each severall way Since Reason did begin Over my actions her first sway : And teacheth me that each new day Did onely vary sin . Poore banckrout Conscience ! where are those Rich houres but farm'd to thee ? How careless●ly I some did lose , And other to my lust dispose As no rent day should be ? I have infected with impure Disorders my past yeares . But I le to penitence inure Those that succeed . There is no cure Nor Antidote but teares .
Cupio dissolvi . Paule . THe soule which doth with God unite , Those gayities how doth she slight Which ore opinion sway ? Like sacred Virgin wax , which shines On Altars or on Martyrs shrines How doth she burne away ? How violent are her throwes till she From envious earth delivered be , Which doth her flight restraine ? How doth she doate on whips and rackes , On fires and the so dreaded Axe , And every murd'ring paine ? How soone she leaves the pride of wealth , The flatteries of youth and health And fames more precious breath . And every gaudy circumstance That doth the pompe of life advance At the approach of death ? The cunning of Astrologers Observes each motion of the starres Placing all knowledge there : And Lovers in their Mistresse eyes Contract those wonders of the ●kies . And seeke no higher sphere . The wandring Pilot sweates to find The causes that produce the wind Still gazing on the Pole . The Politician scornes all Art But what doth pride and power impart . And swells the ambitious soule . But he whom heavenly fire doth warme , And 'gainst these powerfull follies arme , Doth soberly disdaine All these fond humane misteries As the deceitfull and unwise Distempers of our braine . He as a burden beares his clay , Yet vainely throwes it not away On every idle cause : But with the same untroubled eye Can or resolve to live or dye , Regardlesse of th' applause . My God! If 't is thy great decree That this must the last moment be Wherein I breath this ayre ; My heart obeyes joy'd to retreate From the false favours of the great And treachery of the faire . When thou shalt please this soulet ' enthrowne , Above impure corruption ; What should I grieve or feare . To thinke this breathlesse body must Become a loathsome heape of dust And nere againe appeare . For in the fire when Ore is tryed ; And by that torment purified : Doe we deplore the losse ? And when thou shalt my soule refine , That it thereby may purer shine Shall I grieve for the drosse ?
FINIS .