Songs and other poems by Alex. Brome ... Brome, Alexander, 1620-1666. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A29623 of text R4313 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing B4853). 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. 590 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 196 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2018 A29623 Wing B4853 ESTC R4313 13678804 ocm 13678804 101275 2248501485

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A29623) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 101275) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 836:30) Songs and other poems by Alex. Brome ... Brome, Alexander, 1620-1666. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A29623 of text R4313 in the English Short Title Catalog (Wing B4853). 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 [36], 350, [6] p. : ports. Printed for Henry Brome ..., London : 1664. Includes commendatory poems by Izaak Walton, Valentine Oldys, and others. Advertisement on p. [1-3] at end. Reproduction of original in Huntington Library. eng eebo Songs and other poems by Alex. Brome Gent. The second edition corrected and enlarged. Brome, Alexander 1664 391 88102 146 0 0 0 0 0 16.57 C The rate of 16.57 defects per 10,000 words puts this text in the C category of texts with between 10 and 35 defects per 10,000 words. 2006-05 Assigned for keying and markup 2006-05 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2006-07 Sampled and proofread 2006-07 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2006-09 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion

SONGS And other POEMS

By ALEX. BROME Gent.

Dixero quid si fortè jocosius , hoc mihi juris Cum Venià dabis — Hor. 1. Sat. 4.

The second Edition Corrected and enlarged .

LONDON , Printed for Henry Brome , at the Gun in Ivy Lane 1664.

Vera Effigies A : Brome . 1661

CARMINA : DESVNT .

CARMINA DESVNT

VERA EFFIGIES A : Brome . 1654

CARMINA DESVNT

VERA EFFIGIES A : Brome . 1654

CARMINA DESVNT

VERA EFFIGIES A : Brome . 1654

CARMINA DESVNT

VERA EFFIGIES A : Brome . 1654

Fiat Editio altera

Jo. Berkenhead April 28. 1663.
To the Honourable , SR. JOHN ROBINSON Knight and Baronet , His Majesties Lieutenant of the Tower of LONDON .

THe many great obligations which your nobleness hath from time to time laid upon me , doe merit a more serious acknowledgement then this rude and toyish addresse can pretend to ; whose design is onely to beg pardon and protection , for that I being seduced to print these youthful vanities , have thus audaciously shelter'd them under your celebrated Name . I should not have done it , but that I well know the greatnesse of your soul , and the Kindnesse you have for me , are a sufficient screen to keep off any offence that I can commit against you : and I have considered also , that there are four great things committed to your custody ; the Soldiers , the Lyons , the Guns , and ( which is more powerful ) the Money . So that if any should have an itch to snarle at me , they will not dare to open their mouths , least they should be thought to bark at you ; In whose Regiment I desire to list this Volunteer , being encouraged by this consideration ; that , together with those great and serious Emblems and instruments of power , with which you are entrusted , the Apes and Catamountains , and other properties of diversion , doe there find safety and subsistence ; That those priviledges may extend to this Brat of mine , which is no lesse ridiculous , is the ambition of ,

SIR , Your grateful Servant and great Honourer ALEX. BROME .
To the Reader .

TO the Collection of these Papers two accidents have concurr'd ; a lozy disease , and a long vacation : the one inclining me to doe nothing else , and the other affording me nothing else to doe .

To their publication I might alledge several reasons ; namely , gratification of Friends , importunity , prevention of spurious Impressions . But these are in Print already in many grave Authors , with exact formula's to express the bashfulness of the Author , and the badness of the work , &c.

There are another sort of reasons , not express'd but impli'd ; as , an ambition to be in Print , to have a Face cut in Copper , with a Lawrel about my head , a Motto and Verses underneath , made by my self in my own commendation , and to be accompted a Wit , and call'd a Poet.

But , to say the truth , none of all these prevailed with me ; for I made few of my Friends acquainted with the design ; and these few told me , I should expose my self to the censure of the new Generation of JUDGE-WITS ; who , like Committee-men , or black-Witches in Poetry , are created only to doe mischief . Nor did I fear any illegitimate Impression hereof , conceiving that no body would be at the charge of it . And to gratifie friends this way , were instead of quitting ●●● obligations , to create new .

Now as to the honour of being in print , with its priviledges , 't is much like being a Parliament-man ; those that deserve it , need not court it , but will be so , whether they desire it or not ; those that merit it not , may come in by purchase ; such ●uthors , like Men that beget Daughters , must give portions to be rid of their issue .

These reasons being laid aside , as deficient , it will be expected that I should present you with better , but indeed I have them not about me ; and for that reason , I am bold to affirm , that I am not bound , in strictness , to give any man any reason for doing this . For why I made these rambles , I can give no other accompt then a poor man does , why he gets Children ; that is his pleasure , and this mine . And as with him in his case , 't is with me in mine ; having brought our Brats into the World , 't is our duty to provide for their preservation .

I dare not say these Poems are good , nor do I certainly know whether they be or not ; for the Wits are not yet agreed of a standard ; nor shall I declare them bad , least others out of respect to me , should be of the same opinion .

But this I assure you , that I have been told to my face , that they are good , and was such a fond fool to believe it ; else you may be confident , they had ne're been exposed to view ; for upon my credit , I have no ambition to be laught at . And 't were a great disingenuity to offer that to my Friends , which I my self should dislike .

All that is terrible in this case , is , that the Author may be laught at , and the Stationer begger'd by the Books invendibility . It concerns him to look to the one , I am provided against the other . For 't is as unkind and unmanly to abuse me for being a bad Poet , as it is to raile at a Dwarfe for being little and weak : it being my desire to be as good as any that can jeer me ; and if I come short by the Head , who can help it ? yet I desire to be thus far ingenuous , to let the World know , though they may esteem or call me a Poet , by this they may see I am none , or at least so mean a one , that 't were better I were none .

To beg acceptance of this , upon the old promise of never Writing more , were to make the publishing this a wilful sin , which I shan't commit . And though at present I resolve against incumbring my thoughts with such unprofitable meditations ; yet I will ne're abjure them ; being no more able to perform vowes never to Write again , then Widows theirs never to Marry again .

And now , being taught by custome , to beg something of the Reader , it shall be this ; that in reading and judging these Poems , he will consider his own frailty , and fallibility ; and read with the same temper and apprehension , as if himself had written , and I were to judge : and if he cannot find matter here to please himself and love me , let him pitty my disastrous fate , that threw me into this sad distemper of rythming .

But as to the men of a severer brow , who may be scandaliz'd at this free way of writing , I desire them to conceive those Odes which may seem wild and extravagant , not to be Idea's of my own mind , but Characters of divers humours set out in their own persons . ●nd what reflected on the Times , to be but expressions of what was thought and designed by the persons represented ; there being no safe way to reprove vices then r●ging among us , but to lash them smilingly .

Perhaps it may be expected I should have interlarded this address with ends of Latine , to declare my self a Schollar . But the reason why I do not , is because by this late happy change I shall have occasion to employ that little Latine I have to a better use , and make it more advantagious to me .

Farewell .
To his honoured Friend Mr. ALEXANDER BROME , on the publishing his Poems . SIR ,

YOur ingenuous Book you were pleased to trust with me , had before this time come to your hands , had I either sooner known of your retur● to London , or found an handsome opportunity of conveying it thither with safety . Though your modesty i● pleased to invite Censure , I find it is more then your great felicity in this way of Poetry can be liable to : Nor should I have thought those two or three slight Animadversions here inclosed , to have been worth the mentioning , were it not that I would have you believe I use such freedome with you , as to have done more if I had found occasion : though I doubt not but you have or will communicate these Papers to some other friends of more refined judgement then I ca● pretend to . This I am sure , that by publishing of them yo● will oblige , not onely all Men , but some of the Gods ; especially your Name-sake Bacchus ( called also Bromius ) whose worth your wit hath so much advanced , that , though Excise should cease , we should in pure conscience think we could not purchase him at too dear a rate . Cupid himself who hath hitherto exercised chief dominion in Poetry now vails Bonnet to Him ; were it not , that , whilst you s● handsomely magnifie the power of Wine , your Readers ar● forced to fall in Love with your Muse : and , amongst them none more affectionately , then

SIR , Your most obliged humble Servant R. B.
To the Ingenious Author Mr. Alexand. Brome . PRaise is the shade of Vertue , and ne're fell Into contempt , till Men ceas'd to do well . 'T was profit spoyld the world . Till then ( we know it , ) The Usnrer strook sayles unto the Poet. Kings Envyed them their bayes ; for though the Crown Had more of Iustre , it had less renown . Then be thou ( Brome ) my Subject ; Thou whose mind Large , as the bounds of Nature , hath calcin'd Things high and low , and drawn conceptions thence , Which Adam scarcely knew in 's Innocence , T' adorn thy style , and feed poetick fire , And make thy high-flown Raptures to fly higher : What can be thought or said to set thee forth ? Or what Embellishment can guild thy worth ? Great Merits ( like good Claret ) need no sign ( Who ere proclaimed that the Sun did shine ? ) 'T is easie to begin , and hard to end ; When but to speak thy Name , is to commend . But leave I thee the Fountain ; for the stream , Thy book , is now my more peculiar Theame , The Scene of Wine and Women . Thy smart pen Refines our Loves , and liquors o're agen , And teaches us new lessons . Shall I whine To a coy Mistress , swear , and lye , and pine , And dye , and live again , and change more shape● , Then Proteus did , or four and forty Apes , To win my loss of Liberty , when I , Enthron'd by fancy in true Soveraignty , Can out of nothing , whensoere I please , Create a million of such Mistresses ? And write a Sonnet to my Aiery she , Or steal a better Sonnet ( Brome ) from Thee ? No , No , for know my loves best bill of Dyet Is first free thoughts , the next is to be quiet . Hence too I 'll quit the Taverns , for I find No Wine is like the Nectar of the Mind . Conceit is a good Cellar ; Here we may Drink without sin , and spend without Decay , And frolick and be merry ; Or else we May read thy book , and tipple Poetry ; And sing the prayses of the nobler Vine , And send a health to the great God of Wine . This , This , is pleasure , and cheap too , that 's better , For know the Muse is apt to be a debtor . All this we learn from thee ; go on , and be A miracle in future History . Thou shew'st us mirth , and nobler waies to woe ; And Vindicatest thy profession too . If Law and Business can produce such strains , Wee 'l owe no Wit to leisure , but to Brains . W. Paulet E medio Templo .
To the Ingenious Author Mr. A. B. HOw ! how ! what miracles in print ? A Poem with the Politicks in 't ? 'T is strange , but I will not rehearse All the Probatums of thy verse . This only ; when the nose and Bum Had frighted all our miseries dumb , When force hag-rid our Land and Seas , Had made lawes truths Antipodes ; When treason , ( like the bloud ) was found To circulate all England round ; Thou ( Brome ) to cure the Kingdoms wrong Didst hatch new loyalty with a song . Musick ( as once Saul's eldest Devil ) Fetter'd Rebellious rampant evil ; Rhime oft times over-reaches reason ; A verse will counter-charm a Treason . Had Cromwel learn't the grace to sing , H 'had fled to Heaven for his King . Rob. Napeir Emedio Templo .
To my ingenious Friend Mr. Brome , on his various and excellent Poems : An humble Eglog . Daman and Dorus. Written the 29. of May , 1660. Daman . HAll happy day ! Dorus sit down : Now let no sigh , nor let a frown Lodge near thy heart , or on thy brow . The King ! the King 's return'd ! and now Let 's banish all sad thoughts , and sing We have our Laws , and have our King . Dorus. 'T is true , and I would sing , but oh ! These wars have sunk my heart so low 'T will not be rais'd . Daman . What not this day ? Why 't is the twenty ninth of May : Let Rebels spirits sink ; let those That like the Goths and Vandals rose To ruine families , and bring Contempt upon our Church , our King , And all that 's dear to us , be sad ; But be not thou , let us be glad . And Dorus , to invite thee , look , Here 's a Collection in this book , Of all those chearful songs , that we Have sung so oft and merilie As we have march'd to fight the cause Of Gods Anointed , and our Laws : Such songs as make not the least ods Betwixt us mortals and the Gods : Such songs as Virgins need not fear To sing , or a grave Matron hear . Here 's love drest neat , and chast , and gay As gardens in the month of May ; Here 's harmony , and Wit , and Art , To raise thy thoughts , and chear thy heart . Dorus.

Written by whom ?

Daman . A friend of mine , And one that 's worthy to be thine : A Civil swain , that knows his times For business , and that done makes rhimes ; But not till then : my Friend 's a man Lov'd by the Muses ; dear to Pan : He blest him with a chearful heart : And they with this sharp wit and art , Which he so tempers , as no Swain , That 's loyal , does or should complain . Dorus.

I wou'd fain see him :

Daman . Go with me Dorus , to yonder broad beech-tree , There we shall meet him and Phillis , Perrigot , and Amaryllis , Tityrus , and his dear Clora , Tom and Will , and their Pastora : There wee 'l dance , shake hands and sing , We have our Laws , God bless the King . Iz. Walton .
To my worthy Friend Mr. Alex. Brome . WIne ne're to run more clear through quill was , made Then through thine is the praise of it convey'd ; And as by Xeuxis grapes so painted were , That even birds to peck at them drew near ; So , who thy lively Poems see , will think That as they read of Grapes the juice , they drink : Thou doest not treat us with short Epigrams , Like Usurers glasses , only holding drams ; But in thy Songs thy wit is copious found , As Wine in Conduits when a King is crown'd . There strength of fancy , to it sweetness joynes , Unmixt with water , nor st●m'd with strong lines . The lover who in many a frosty night , Did Serenade , his Mistress out of sight , And to his Gitthar songs most doleful howle In consort with the Bell-man and the Owle , Now takes his Brimmer off , and to her flies , Singing thy Rhimes , and straight she is his prize . She doth no more her Red-nos'd lover scorn , But fairer thinks than blushes of the morn ; And would have Hymens torches lighted be By th' nose , that 's a Linck-boy compar'd by thee . He tells her no part of a woman ought Unto Starrs , Sun , globes , roses like be thought : But that th●se names which raise so high a pride , Are but to Taverns fit to be apply'd . A Countrey Parson i' th' Rumps reign did woe His auditory Honestly to do , And wear brave souls , which he enforc'd by those Thy songs only reform'd by him to prose , Which he had heard at market over night : Thus do thy fancies profit and delight . Carry the cause then for this man is black , That he may have from Vintners Tithes of Sack ; Wherein he will not crave so much , as did The Levite who some of his Parish bid ; That sail'd to Green-land that they should not fail Thence of their prey to bring him the tenth Whale . But to reward him higher , let him get Tithes of thy muse , and so be out of 's debt . And now me thinks , while thou abroad dost shew Thy self in print to the Worlds open view , From all that wear brave souls no voyce doth stir , But welcome Sir , y' are kindly welcome Sir . Yet if the envious at thee do repine , They shall be but like flies drown'd in thy Wine . C. W.
To his dear friend Mr. Alex. Brome , upon the publishing his Poems . MY kind Affections will shew forth thy wit , Although 't be by a simple opposite ; For thou preventest all Ingenuous pro●ms , Ingrossing all the wit within thy Poems ; But yet there 's something left for me to do , Which would be folly if perform'd by you : And that 's to praise●oth ●oth thee , and them , whose glory Shall reign with thy loyal Congratulatory And daring Speech , made in Clothworkers-Hall , Which overcame , and made the General , Who made us all , by making all his men , Rank as they were , to bring our Kings agen , By being subject to our Lawful Prince , Whose damned Exile , made us Slaves e're since : And so confin'd thy fancy , that thy Fame ( Till his return was ) kept without a Name . Though thou hast been Libellish all these times , Against the changing Powers ; yet some Crimes Thou didst conceal , which did thy prudence shew , To keep their vices for their overthrow ; Reserving still some strength as a redoubt , Fearing the Rumpish rear might face about ; And made our Kings de facto , and of right In Charles the Second justly to unite ; Who soon inlarg'd thy Muse , which free , Hath bound us to our Laws for liberty : To whom I do subscribe , ( since our Commander , In name's as good as is Great Alexander ) . Cha. Steynings .
To his Ingenious Friend Mr. A. B. upon his most excellent Poems . IN our late Chaos , when the giddy world Was to th' Abysse of curs'd Rebellion hurl'd ▪ And its distemper'd Pilots did advance Nothing but dull and sordid Ignorance ; When to be either learn'd , or witty , gave Occasion to make this or t'other slave : Then Atlas - like thou didst that world sustain , Destin'd to thrive by thy Poetick-brain . Divinity we there saw stifled , and The Law was only practis'd under-hand : The Glory of our School eclips'd ; a shade , No life , nor Beauty gave , but Horrour had All Modes and Methods Ravish'd from our eye , To cancel Name of King and Loyalty ; For each of which , thou mad'st a fit supply , As some instruct their Boyes by Poe●ie . Nay Millions more had driven with that stream , Had not thy sense and light diverted them , Those who droop'd in despair , had drop'd away , But Thy Prophetick Numbers made them stay ; And did re-animate their spirits here , Fore-telling them their Sun would once uppear . Most of the younger Fry , that never saw A Crown or Gospel flourish with the Law , Had been deprav'd in soul , but that the Starre ( Thy Lines put forth ) directed how and where They ought to worship , so they were kept free From the Times guilt , others Apostacie . The puisne Law-wrights too may spare to look On this grave Sirs reports , or t'others Book For what 's Authentique , but ( at will ) from thee , May freight their Skuls with Law 's Epitomie : And henceforth we shall have them cease to Bawl Cook upon Littleton , but Brome on all . The Brethren of the Crowd throughout the Town , Who lost their time to keep 't , were out of Tune More than their Instruments ; as if their Arts Were meerly but to play , not play their parts , Till furnish'd with a Song or two from you ; Then they grew proud upon 't , and wealthy too ; Nor was 't ill husbandry , or either's wrong , To give , or get their money for a Song . We find in every Science , Art , or Trade , Ambition some Competitors has made ; But here THOU art particular , and like , For Poesie , as Painting was Vandyke . Such reputation hast thou gain'd , that when A piece of Wit has by some other Men Been richly cloath'd , and spoken ; Hear their dooms , Upon our lives , 'T is Alexander Brome's . But — — — As Pictures by their soyles seem better drest , I can but be , Thy Blackamore at Best . Valentine Oldis .
For his much honoured Friend Mr. Alexander Brome . Honoured Sir ,

YOur ingenious Letter which came to my hands long after its date , had sooner received an Answer , if my frequent absence , and many haesitations between Willingness and Inability to serve you , had not caused this respite . And now let me tell you my opinion ; that , though Elogies upon Authors are at no time necessary , yet I think them never more superfluous , than when Verses are commended with more Verses ; which if they be better , disparage their Friend ; if worse Themselves . We know it is against a Rule of Art to lay Metal upon Metal , and that Cook who besprinkles the borders of his dish with the same meat which it contains , will be thought rather to dawb then garnish it . I am sure it will be so here , with your curious entertainment , unto which the Reader must needs come with such an eager Appetite , as to reproach , or at least neglect , all that stands in his way . And I should much wonder why you would be such a Mezentius to your self , as to bind my dead Muse to your own living one ; but that I suppose , being secure of immortality , you are proof against all contagion . Had you laid this command upon me , when you favoured me with the per●sal of your Book , those brisk and frolick airs might have so volatiliz'd my thoughts , that it had been as easie for me to write , as for the beasts to dance when they heard Orpheus's Harp . But now you bid me be warm , when you have long since withdrawn the fire : and call me to a work unto which my pen is so much a stranger , that it is now many years since I made a verse in English . Believe it Sir , 't is to me as great a Metamorphosis , as when a City was turn'd into a Bird , on a sudden , to lay by all that is solid and severe , and soar aloft in the airy waies of Fancy , led only by the tinkling of Rhymes , as Bees by the noyse of a Candlestick : At present , I am sure , whilest business is much upon me , I am charm'd against such transmutations . You that are a wonder your self in this kind , would be less so , if any were like you ; that can reconcile Poetry with Westminster-Hall , where nothing of a fine spinning ( not so much as Cobwebs , they say ) can have a place : that can swallow down the rank phrases of our Law , like so many heads of Garlick , next your heart in a morning ; and before night breath forth soft and Jovial airs , surpassing the most captivated votaries of Love or Wine : these are toss'd about like the Sibylls prophetick leaves , and at length you find them crowning every Feast , and dancing on the lips of every Lady . But for mine own part , if perhaps I have been found of late amongst our Academical Versifyers , it was but as Cleaveland's Presbyterian danced , only — in obedience to the Ordinance . For you must know , that Doctors appear in Verse , as old men sometimes have done in a Morris , not so much for ostentation of Ability , as for uncouthness of the sight , and to shew how ready they are to be laught at for his Majesties service . And I could tell some who would censure me for levity , should they see me play the Poet in such good company as yours , who yet call upon me to do the same here , where I am to be dull by my place . In short Sir , if it be necessary that such a Champion as you should not come forth into the field without your Dwarf , I heartily wish I were able to serve you in that condition : However , give me leave I pray you to remain in downright Prose

Sir , Your assured Friend and most humble Servant , H. T.
POEMS .
SONG I. Plain Dealing . 1. WEll , well , 't is true , I am now fal'n in Love , And 't is with You : And now I plainly see , While you 're enthron'd by me above , You all your arts and pow'rs improve To Tyrant over me ; And make my flames th' Incentives of your Scorn , While you rejoyce , and feast your Eyes to see me thus forlorn . 2. But yet be wise , And don 't believe , that I Did think your Eyes More bright than Stars can be ; Or that your Face Angels out-vies In their Coelestial Liveries 'T was all but Poëtrie . I could have said as much by any She , You are not beauteous of your self , but are made so by me . 3. Though we , like Fools , Fathom the Earth and Skie , And drein the Schools For names t' express you by : Out-rant the lowd'st Hyperboles To dub the Saints , and Deities , By Cupid's Heraldry : We know you 're Flesh and Bloud as well as Men , And when we will can mortalize , and make you so agen . 4. Yet , since my Fate Has drawn me to this Sin , Which I did hate , I 'll not my labour lose : But will love on , as I begin , To th' purpose , now my hand is in , ‛ Spite of those Arts you use ; And let you know , the World is not so bare , There 's Things enough to love , besides such Toyes as Ladies are . 5. I 'll love good Wine ; I 'll love my Book and Muse , Nay all the Nine ; I 'll Love my real Friend ; I 'll Love my Horse ; and , could I chuse One , that would not my Love abuse , To her my Heart should bend . I 'll love all those , that laugh , and those , that sing ; I 'll love my Countrey , Prince , and Laws ; and those , that love the King .
SONG II. The Indifferent . 1. MIstake me not , I am not of that mind To hate all woman kind ; Nor can you so my patience vex ; To make my Muse blaspheme your sex , Nor with my Satyrs bite you ; Though there are some in your free - State . Some things in you , who 're Candidate , That he who is , or loves himself , must hate ; Yet I 'll not therefore slight you . For I 'm a Schismatick in Love , And what makes most abhorr it , In me does more affection move , And I love the better for it . 2. I vow , I am so far from loving none , That I love every one ; If fair I must , if brown she be , She 's lovely , and for Sympathy , 'Cause we 're alike , I love her ; If tall , she 's proper ; and if short , She 's humble , and I love her for 't : Small 's pretty , fat is pleasant , every sort Some graceful good discover ; If young , she 's pliant to the sport ; And if her visage carry Gray hairs and wrinkles , yet I 'll court , And so turn Antiquary . 3. Be her hair red , be her lips gray or blew , Or any other hew , Or has she but the ruins of a nose , Or but eye-sockets , I 'll love those ; Though scales , not skin , does clothe her , Though from her lungs , the scent that comes Does Rowt her teeth out of their gums ; I 'll count all these for high Encominms , Nor will I therefore loath her . There are no rules for beauty , but 'T is as our fancies make it : Be you but kind , I 'll think you fair , And all for truth shall take it .
SONG III. The Resolve . 1. TEll me not of a face that 's fair , Nor lip and cheek that 's red , Nor of the tresses of her hair , Nor curles in order laid ; Nor of a rare seraphick voice , That like an Angel sings ; Though if I were to take my choice , I would have all these things ▪ But if thou wilt have me love And it must be a she , The only argument can move Is , that she will love me . 2. The glories of your Ladies be But Metaphors of things ; And but resemble what we see Each common object brings . Roses out-red their lips and cheeks , Lillies their whiteness stain : What fool is he that shadows seeks And may the substance gain ? Then if thou 'lt have me love a Lass Let it be one that 's kind , Else I 'm a servant to the glass That 's with Canary lin'd .
SONG IV. The Wary Woer . 1. FAith , you 're mistaken , I 'll not love That face that frowns on me , Though it be handsom , 't shall not move My center'd soul that 's far above The magick of a paint , That on a Devil writes a Saint : I hate your Pictures and Imagery . I 'm no love - Sinon , nor will tamely now Lie swadled in the trenches of your brow . 2. Though you are witty what care I ? My danger is the more ; Nay should you boast of honesty , Woman gives all those names the Lie : In all you hardly can Write after that fair copy , Man ▪ And dabble in the steps we 've gone before . We you admire , as we do parots all Not speaking well , but that they speak ' at all . 3. That Lass mine arms desire t' enfold , Born in the golden age , Guarded with Angels , but of Gold , She that 's in such a showre enroll'd May tempt a Jove to be Guilty of Loves Idolatry , And make a pleasure of an Hermitage ; Though their teeth are not , if their necks wear pea● ▪ A Kitchin-wench is Consort for an Earl . 4. 'T is money makes the man , you say , 'T shall make the Woman too ; When both are clad in like aray December rivals youthful May : This rules the World , and this Perfection of both Sexes is ; This Flora made a Goddess , so 't will you : This makes us laugh , this makes us drink and sing ; This makes the beggar trample o're his King .
SONG V. The Counsel . 1. WHy 's my friend so melancholy ? Prithe why so sad , why so sad ? Beauty's vain , and Love 's a folly , Wealth and women make men mad . To him that has a heart that 's jolly Nothing 's grievous , Nothing 's sad . Come , cheer up my La● . 2. Does thy mistress seem to fly thee ? Prithee don't repine , don't repine : If at first she does deny thee Of her love , deny her thine ; She shews her coyness but to try thee , And will triumph if thou pine . Drown thy thoughts in wine . 3. Try again , and don 't give over , Ply her , she 's thine own , she 's thine own ; Cowardise undoes a Lover They are Tyrants if you moan ; If not thy self , nor love can move her , But she 'll slight thee and be gone : Let her then alone . 4. If thy courtship can't invite her , Nor to condescend , nor to bend ; Thy only wisdome is to slight her , And her beauty discommend . Such a niceness will requite her ; Yet if thy Love will not end , Love thy self and friend .
SONG VI. To his Mistress . 1. LAdy you 'l wonder when you see With those bright twins of eyes , These ragged lines that ●r●wle from me , And note the contrariety That both in them and in their Author lies : 2. I that came hither with a breast Coated with Male about ; Proof 'gainst your beauty , and the rest , And had no room for Love to nest , Where reason lodg'd within , and love kept out . 3. My thoughts turn'd like the needle , about , Touch'd by Magnetick love : And fain would find some North-pole out , But waver'd 'twixt desire and doubt ; Till now they 're fixt , and point to you above . 4. Lend me one Ray , and do but shine Upon my verse , and me ; Your beauty can enrich a line , And so you 'l make 'um yours , not mine ; Since there 's no Helicon like love and thee .
SONG . VII . To his Mistress . 1. WHy dost thou frown my dear , on me ? Come change that angry face . What though I kist that Prodigie , And did her ugly limbs embrace ? 'T was only 'cause thou wert in place . 2. Had I suck't poyson from her breath , One kiss could set me free : Thy lip 's an Antidote 'gainst Death ; Nor would I ever wish to be Cur'd of a sickness but by thee . 3. The little birds for dirt repair Down from the purer skie , And shall not I kiss foul and fair ? Wilt thou give Birds more pow'r than I ? Fye , 't is a scrupulous nicety . 4. When all the World I 've rang'd about , All beauties else to spy , And , at the last , can find none out , Equal to thee in beauty ; I Will make thee my sole Deity .
SONG VIII . The hard Heart . 1. STill so hard-hearted ? what may be The sin thou hast committed ? That now the angry Deity Has to a Rock congealed thee , And thus thy hardness fitted ? To make one act both sin and curse , And plague thy hardness with a worse . 2. Till thee there never was but one Was to a Rock translated , Poor Niobe that weeping stone : She ever did , thou ne're dost moan , Nor is thy scorn abated . The tears I send to thee are grown Of that same nature , and turn stone . 3. Yet I , dear Rock , must worship thee , Love works this superstition , And justifies the Idolatry That 's shown to such a stone as thee , Where it fore-runs fruition . Thou' rt so magnetick , that I can No more leave thee , than to be Man . 4. But thou , I warrant thee , dost suppose This new design will slay me , And r●vel out my life with woes Till death , at last , mine eyes shall close ; Then in thy breast thou 'lt lay me , That all may read , lo here I lye T 〈…〉 b'd in thy heart , slain by thine eye . 5. But I , I vow , will be more wise , And love with such discretion ; When I read coyness in thy eyes , I 'll robe mine with like cruelties , And kill with prepossession . Then I 'll turn stone , and so will be An endless monument to thee .
SONG . IX . Loves Anarchy . 1. LOve , I must tell thee , I 'll no longer be A Victime to thy beardless Deity : Nor shall this heart of mine , Now 't is return'd , Be offered at thy shrine , Or at thine Altar burn'd ▪ Love , like Religion 's made an airy name , To awe those souls whom want of wit makes tame . 2. There 's no such thing as Quiver , Shafts , or Bow , Nor does Love wound , but men imagine so . Or if it does perplex And grieve the mind , 'T is the poor masculine Sex : Women no sorrows find . 'T is not our persons , nor our parts , can move 'um , Nor is 't mens worth , but wealth , makes Ladies love 'um . 3. Reason henceforth , not love , shall be my guide , My fellow-creatures sha'nt be Deisi'd ; I 'll now rebel be , And so pull down That Distaff-Monarchy , And Females fancy'd crown . In these unbridled times who would not strive To free his neck from all prerogative ?
SONG X. The Libertine . 1. PErswade me not , I vow I 'll love no more , My heart has now ta'n quarter ; My fetters I 'll no more adore , Nor madly run , as heretofore , To break my freedoms Charter : He , that once fails , may try again ; But who so often fool'd has bin , And still attempts , commits a triple sin : He 's his own humours Martyr . I 'll use my liberty to run Abroad , and still be choosing : Who would confine himself to one That has power of refusing ? 2. The unconfined Bee , we see , has power , To kiss and feel each flower ; Nor is his pleasure limited To th' ruines of one maidenhead , Nor ty'd to ones embraces : But having's will of one , he 'll fly T' another , and there load his thigh . Why should he have more priviledge than I ? Since both our amorous cases Differ in this alone ; his thighs , When he abroad doth rome , Loaden with spoyls return , But mine Come weak and empty home . 3. The self same beauty that I 've often sworn Dwelt only in my dearest , I see by other Ladies worn , Whom the same Graces do adorn : I like that face that 's nearest . This I salute , and walk with that ; With this I sing , with t'other chat , I 've none to Catechize me where ? or what ? Nor will be ty'd t' a Querist . Thus out of all , Pigmalion like , My fancy limns a woman ; To her I freely sacrifice , And rival'd am by no man .
SONG . XI . The Contrary . 1. NAy prithee do , be coy and slight me , I must love , though thou abhor it , This pretty niceness does invite me : Scorn me , and I 'll love thee for it . That World of beauty that is in you , I 'll overcome like Alexander . In amorous flames I can continue Unsing'd , and prove a Salamander . 2. Do not be won too soon I prethee , But let me woe , whilest thou dost fly me . 'T is my delight to dally with thee , I 'll court thee still if thou'●t deny me : For there 's no happiness but loving , Enjoyment makes our pleasures ●lat ; Give me the heart that 's alwaies moving , And 's not confin'd t' one , you know what . 3. I 've fresh supplies on all occasions , Of thoughts , as Various as your face is , No Directory for evasions , Nor will I court by common-places . My heart 's with Antidotes provided , Nor will I dye 'cause you frown on me ; I 'm merry when I am derided , When you laugh at me , or upon me . 4. 'T is fancy that creates those pleasures That have no being but conceited ; And when we come to dig those treasures , We see our selves our selves have cheated : But if th' ar● minded to destroy me , Then love me much , and love me ever , I 'll love thee more , and that may slay me , So I●hy ●hy Martyr am , or never .
SONG XII . The Young Lover . 1. TUsh ! never tell me , I 'm too young For loving , or too Green , She staies at least seven years too long That 's wedded at fourteen . Age and Discretion fit Grave Matrons , whose desires and youths are past . Love needs not , nor has wit . They in whose youthful breast dwels nought but frost Can only mourn the daies , and joyes , they 've lost . 2. Lambs bring forth Lambs , and Doves bring Doves As soon as they 'r begotten : Then why should Ladies linger loves , As if not ripe till rotten . 'T is envious age pe●●wades This tedious heresie for men to ●oe Stale Ni●phs and Vestal maids , While they in modesty must answer No. Late Love , like late Repentance , seldom 's true . 3. Gray hairs are fitter for the Grave Than for the bridal bed ; What pleasure can a lover have In a wither'd Maidenhead ? Dry bones and rotten limbs Make Hymen's Temple turn an Hospital : Age all our beauty dims . Though Lands must not till one and twenty fall , The laws to love prescribe no time at all . 4. Nature's exalted in our time ; And what our Grandames then At four and twenty scarce could climbe , We can arrive at ten . Youth of it self doth bring us Provocatives within , and we do scorn Love-powders and Eringoes . Cupid himself 's a childe , and 't will be sworn , Lovers like Poets , are not made , but born .
SONG XIII . To his Mistress . 1. MY Theodora , can those eyes From whence such glories shine , Give light to every soul that pryes , And only be obscur'd to mine , Who willingly my heart resign , Enflam'd by you , to be your sacrifice ? 2. Send out one beam t' enrich my soul , And chase this gloomy shade , That does in clouds about me roul , And in my breast a hell has made ; Where fire still burns , still flames invade . And yet lights pow'r and comfort both controul . 3. Then , out of gratitude , I 'll send Some of my flames to thee , Thus lovingly our gifts we 'll blend ; And both in joyes shall wealthy be : And love , though blind , shall learn to see , Since you an eye to him and me can lend .
SONG XIII . To a Widow . 1. NAy , dry ( for shame ) those blubber'd eye● , And cease to sigh that breath away , Fates are not mov'd with tears and cryes , Nor formal sighs as vain as they , Joyes are not joyes , that alwaies stay , And constant pleasures don't delight but cloy . 2. Though he be gone , that was your dear , Must you for ever mourn and pine The Sun that 's buried the last Year , Does now in newer glory shine . Your Nuptial joyes and pleasures be Not dead , but only inherited by me , 3. Hymen's an Artist , and can do The next time better than before , Giants great heights can reach unto , But on their shoulders dwarfs reach more . Men more refin'd do daily grow , The nearer to Divinity they go . 4. Then don't ( my dear ) thy heart confine , To one whose being's past away , And make me with desires , to pine , Whilest he must glut , that can't enjoy . Love's stifled , when it is confin'd , To this or that ; it 's object is mankind .
SONG XV. To his Friend that had vow'd Small-Beer . 1. LEave off fond Hermite , leave thy vow , And fall again to drinking That beauty that won't sack allow , Is hardly worth thy thinking , Dry love , or small , can never hold , And without Bacchus , Venus soon grows cold . 2. Doest think by turning Anchorite ; Or a dull Small-Beer sinner . Thy cold embraces can invite , Or sprightless Courtship win her ? No , 't is Canary that inspires , 'T is Sack , like Oyle , gives Flames to am'rous Fires . 3. This makes thee chant thy Mistress name , And to the heav'ns to raise her ; And range this universal frame For Epithets to praise her . Low liquors render brains unwitty , And ne're provoke to love , but move to pity . 4. Then be thy self , and take thy Glass , Leave off this dry Devotion , Thou must like Neptune court thy lass , Wallowing in Nectars Ocea● , Let 's offer at each Ladies shrine , A full crown'd bowl , first here 's a health to thine .
SONG . XVI . On Claret . 1. WIthin this bottle's to be seen , A scarlet liquor that has been Born of the royal vine ; We but nick-name it when we call It Gods drink , who drink none at all , No higher name than Wine 2. 'T is Ladies liquor : here one might Feast both his eye and appetite , With beauty and with taste , Cherries and Roses which you seek . Upon your Mistress lip and che●k Are here together plac'● . 3. Physicians may prescribe their whey To purge our Reins and Brains away , And clarifie the Bloud ; That cures one sickness with another , This routs by whole-sale altogether , And drowns them in a floud . 4. This Poets makes , else how could I Thus ramble into Poetry , Nay and write Sonnets too ; If there 's such pow'r in junior wines , To make one venture upon lines What could Canary do ? 5. Then squeeze the vessels bowels out And deal it faithfully about , Crown each hand with a brimmer ; Since we 're to pass through this red Sea , Our noses shall our Pilots be And every soul a swimmer .
SONG XVII . A Mock-Song . 1. 'T Is true , I never was in love : But now I mean to be , For there 's no art Can shield a heart From loves Supremacie . 2. Though in my nonage I have seen A world of taking faces ; I had not age nor wit to ken Their several hidden graces . 3. Those vertues which though thinly set , In others are admired , In thee are altogether met , Which make thee so desired . 4. That though I never was in Love Nor never meant to be Thy self and parts Above my arts Have drawn my heart to thee .
SONG XVIII . Reasons of Love . 1. PRethee , why dost thou love me so ? Or is it but in show ? What is there that your thoughts can pick about me ? If beauty in my face you view , 'T was ne're writ there unless by you , I little find within , nor you without me . 2. I ha'nt the Rhetorick of the foot : Nor lean long leg to boot , Nor can I court with congees , trips , and dances ; I seldom sing , or if I do , You 'll scarce tell whe'r I sing or no , I can't endure Love-stories and Romances . 3. I neither know , nor love to play And fool my time away ; Nor talk in Dialects to please your fancy : Nor carve the Capon or the Quail , But hew it through from head to tail , A complement to me is Negromancy . 4. I boast not of a pedigree , That Lords or Lordlings be , Nor do I lace my name with Grandsires story , Nor will I take the pains to look For a fools coat i' th' Heralds book , My fame 's mine own , no monumental glory . 5. I am not fashion'd of the mode , Nor rant i' th Gallants rode , Nor in my habit do observe decorum : Perfumes shall not my breath belie , Nor clothes my body glorifie , They shall derive their honour , 'cause I wore 'um , 6. No frizling nor scarce locks , and yet Perhaps more hair than wit : Nor shall Sweet-powders vanity delight you ; Though my hairs little , I 'le not carry A wig for an Auxiliary . If my locks can't , anothers shant invite you ▪ 7. And which is worse , I cannot woe With Gold as others doe , Nor bait your love with Lordships , Lands , and Towers ▪ Just so much money I have by , As serves to spoil my poetry , Not to expose me to the higher powers . 8. Nay you shan't make a fool of me , Though I no Statist be , Nor shall I be so valiant to fight for ye , I han't the patience to court , Nor did I e're do 't , but in sport , I won't run mad for love , nor yet go marry . 9. And yet I know some cause does move , Though it be not pure love 'T is for your honours sake that you affect me ; For well you know , she that 's my Lass , Is canoniz'd in every glass , And her health 's drunk , by all that do respect me . 10. Then love thou on , I 'le tipple till Both of us have our fill , And so thy name shall never be forgotten ; I 'll make thee Hellen's fame survive , Though she be dead and thou alive , For though thou' rt not so old , thy heart 's as rotten .
SONG XIX . Epithalamy . 1. NAy fie , Platonicks still adoring , The fond Chymaera's of your brain ? Still on that empty nothing poring ? And only follow what you faign ? Live in your humour , 't is a curse So bad , 't were pity wish a worse . We 'll banish such conceits as those , Since he that has enjoyment knows , More bliss , then Plato could suppose . 2. Cashiered woers , whose low merit Could ne're arrive at nuptial bliss , Turn Schismaticks in love , whose spirit Would have none hit 'cause they do miss . But those reproaches that they vent Do only blaze their discontent . Condemn'd mens words no truth can show , And Hunters when they prove too slow , Cry Hares are dry meat , let 'um go . 3. Th' inamour'd youth , whose flaming breast Makes Goddesses and Angels all ; In 's contemplation finds no rest , For all his joyes are sceptical , At his fruition flings away His Cloris and his Welladay , And gladly joyns to fill our Quire . Who to such happiness aspire As all must envy or admire .
SONG XX. An Ode of Anacreon paraphrased . Beauties force . I Wonder why Dame Nature thus Her various gifts dispences ; She every creature else but us With arms , or armour fences . The Bull with bended horns she arms ; With hoofs she guards the Horse ; The Hare can nimbly run from harms , All know the Lyons force . 2. The Bird can danger fly on 's wing , She Fish with fins adorns , The Cuckold too , that harmless thing , His patience guards , and 's horns . And Men she valiant makes and wise , To shun or baffle harms ; But to poor Women she denies Armour to give , or arms . 3. Instead of all , this she does do ; Our Beauty she bestows , Which serves for arms and armour too , 'Gainst all our pow'rful Foes , And 't is no matter , so she doth Still beautious faces yield Wee 'l conquer sword and fire , for both To beauty leave the field .
SONG XXI . Love 's without Reason . 1. 'T Is not my Ladies face that makes me loue her , Though beauty there doth rest , Enough t' inflame the breast Of one , that never did discover The glories of a face before ; But I that have seen thousands more See nought in hers , but what in others are , Only because I think she 's fair , she 's fair . 2. 'T is not her vertues , nor those vast perfections , That crowd together in her , Ingage my soul to win her , For those are only brief Collections , Of what 's in man in folio writ ; Which by their imitative wit Women like Apes and Children strive to do ; But we that have the substance slight the show . 3. 'T is not her birth , her friends , nor yet her treasure , My free-born soul can hold ; For chains are chains though gold ; Nor do I court her for my pleasure , Nor for that old Moralitie Do I love her , 'cause she loves me ? For that 's no love , but gratitude , and all Loves that from fortunes rise , with fortunes fall . 4. If friends , or birth , created love within me , Then Princes I 'll adore , And only scorn the poor , If vertue or good parts could win me , I 'll turn Platonick , and ne're vex My soul with difference of sex , And he that loves his Lady 'cause she 's fair , Delights his eye , so loves himself , not her . 5. Reason and Wisdom are to love high treason , Nor can he truly love , Whose flame 's not far above , And far beyond his wit or reason , Then ask no reason for my fires , For infinite are my desires . Something there is moves me to love , and I Do know I love , but know not how , nor why .
SONG XXII . The Damosel . 1. SInce Women are still , By-pretenders to skill , Suppos'd to be sway'd by their will , And not by their judgment nor reason , Then it shall be mine , To uphold the design , In spite of the hits Of the fellows call'd Wits , That jeer every thing that 's in season . 2. Though youthful I be , And buxome to see , And suppos'd to be frolick and free , And ripe for the thing you wot on , I 'll not sacrific'd be To the Ginger-bread he , Whose cloathes are in print And his hair has butter in 't And his fancies and whimseys has got on . 3. For the Youth in their bud , That do sail in the sloud , Of their active and flaming bloud , Like furious undertakers ; Are fiery at first , But have soon done their worst , Then they shrink their heads in , And care not a pin For the sport , nor yet the sport-makers . 4. But give me that he That is threescore and three And can neither hear , smell , or see , He will serve well enough for a cover ; He will tickle , and touch , Though his strength be not much , He can't do , but desire , And that kindles his fire , While he fathers the sports of a lover . 5. O the tooth without peers ! And the silver hairs ! And the gouts , and the coughs of old years ! I would have such an one for the nonce ; I can Chronicles find , In his limbs , and his mind , While his face tells the story Of memento mori , With an Almanack in his bones .
SONG XXIII . A Dialogue . 1. Amoret . O For the balmy coral of a lip ! Where I with kissing Chymistry may sip . Castalian quaffs of Nectar to delight me , And every kiss may to a new invite me . Oenophil . Give me a bowl wherein I 'll tumble Bacchus , To bathe our souls , we 'll drink till Sack doth crack us Midas . But let my chests groan with the gilded oar , Where having much is prologue unto more . Oenophil . Who doats on beauty , fancies but a toy . Midas . Who Wine adores , does overwhelm his joy . Oenophil . And he that gapes for gaudy dirt or treasure , Still feels desires , but no content nor pleasure . Chorus . Then let 's unite our desires , but let reason be our guide , What in each is not found , in all swels like a tide . 2. Amoret . A beautious face can a young fancy raise , And mirtle glorifies , as well as Bayes . Love , like the soul , informs the flesh that 's stupid , Nor can Apollo more inspire than Cupid . Oenophil . Where full-fraught cups , with sprightly liquors flow , it Unwraps your brain , and makes each wight a Poet. Midas . Where boundless treasure raigns 't wil raise the soul , And wit and love both conquer and controul . Amoret . Still give me love , give me my lovely lass . Oenophil . I 'll count no other mistress , but the glass . Midas . But give me chink , nor love , nor wit shall plague us . For Poe and Hypocrene both vail to Tagus . Chorus . Then let 's unite our desires , but let reason be our guide What in each is not found in all swels like a tide .
SONG XXIV . To his Mistress affrighted in the wars . 1. COme sigh no more , but kiss again , These troubles shall never trouble me ; Your sighs are but wind , and your sorrows vain ; They 'l never the sooner for us agree . Let Canons keep roaring And bullets still fly , While I am adoring Thee , my deity . Hang this wealth ! let money flee , They cannot undo me , while I have thee . 2. I 'll be thy Champion to defend Thy person from all these dangers and harms ; No Army's so sure as a real friend , Nor Castle defends like a lovers arms . But if I can't daunt 'um , By valour and might , Your face shall enchant 'um , For beauty can fight . There 's no armour can men free From the naked pow'r of such beauties as thee . 3. I Venus serve , a fig for Mars , Loves arrows may wound , but neuer kill me ; Me thinks there 's no pleasure in bloudy wars , But I long to be wounded and taken by thee ? When our bullets are kisses , And our field is a bed , And the top of our bliss is A pure maidenhead . Both will strive to lose the day , And both shall be conquer'd , yet not run away .
SONG XXV . Upon the Cavaliers departing out of London . 1. NOw fare thee well London , Thou next must be undone , 'Cause thou hast undone us before ; This cause and this tyrant , Had never plaid this high rant , Were 't not for thy Argent and Or. 2. Now we must desert thee , With the lines that begirt thee , And the red-coated Saints Domineer , Who with liberty fool thee , While a Monster doth rule thee , And thou feel'st what before thou didst fear : 3. Now justice and freedom With the laws that did breed 'um , Are sent to Jamaica for gold , And those that upheld 'um , Have power but seldom , For justice is barter'd and sold . 4. Now the Christian Religion Must seek a new Region , And the old Saints give way to the new ; And we that are loyal Vail to those that destroy all , When the Christian gives place to the Jew . 5. But this is our glory In this wretched story , Calamities fall on the best ; And those that destroy us Do better imploy us , To sing till they are supprest .
SONG XXVI . On the fall of the Prices of Wine . 1. NOw our thanks to our powers above us , And to him that above them doth sit , Who to shew how intirely they love us , Have found out the way To repair the decay Of the famish'd and foundered Wit , And new drench the Poetical Tit. Chorus . Welcome desired August to us Thou Comfort and delight do'st give us 'T was November did undo us , But 't is August does relieve us . 2. Give 's a rowsing beer-glass of Canary , The half-pint and thimble's our foe ; We will be no more tributary To the Spaniards pride , Nor make Vintners ride , When we are not able to go , Or dare not our faces to show .

Chorus , &c.

3. We defie now the Malter and Hopper , Whose Pride would have made us surmise , Our Helicon lay in his Copper ; And He 'll sell wit and art , At three half pence a quart ; And with that he would make us so wise , To be able to cheat the Excise .

Chorus , &c.

4. Let us venture to take the Canaries , And then wee 'll make Sack of our own ; For he that those Islands carries , Wins the Indies to boot , And all Spain added to 't ; The Turk and the Pope wee 'l not own , But rule the whole World alone .

Chorus , &c.

5. 'T is the means and the end of our study , It does make our invention oreflow While the channel of ale makes it muddy A Mayor or a Knight By bunches may write , If his theame be the grape , and by it Be esteem'd a Divine and a wit .

Chorus , &c.

SONG XXVII . The Old Mans Delight . By R. B. HO boy , hay boy , Come come away boy , And bring me my longing desire , A Lass that is neat , And can well do the feat , When lusty young bloud is on fire . Let her body be tall , And her wast be small , And her age not above eighteen , Let her care for no bed , But here let her spread Her mantle upon the green . Let her face be faire , And her brests be bare . And a voice let her have that can warble , Let her belly be soft , But to mount me aloft , Let her bounding buttocks be marble . The Addition by A. B. Let her have a cherry lip Where I Nectar may sip ; Let her eyes be as black as a sloe ; Dangling locks I do love , So that those hang above , Are the same with what grows below . Oh such a bonny Lass May bring wonders to pass , And make me grow younger and younger ; And when ere we do part , She 'l be mad at the heart , That I 'm able to tarry no longer .
SONG XXVIII . 'A Dialogue translated . Q. WHat made Venus strike her Son ? A. Cause he loft his bow and quiver . Q. Where is his bow and quiver gone ? A. To my Mistress without doubt . Q. Prithee how came that about ? A. She did but ask , and he did give her ; For being blind , he easly ers , And knew not his Mothers face from hers . Chorus . Oh blame him not for what he did do ; Which of us all would not err so too ?
SONG XXIX . Out of Catallus . 1. MY Lesbia , let us live and love , Let crabbed Age talk what it will . The Sun when down , returns above , But we , once dead , must be so still . 2. Kiss me a thousand times , and then Give me a hundred kisses more , Now kiss a thousand times agen , Then t'other hundred as before . 3. Come a third thousand , and to those Another hundred kisses fix ; That done , to make the sweeter close , Wee 'l millions of kisses mix . 4. And huddle them together so , That we our selves shan't know how many , And others can't their number know , If we should envy'd be by any . 5. And then , when we have done all this , That our pleasures may remain , Wee 'l continue on our bliss , By unkissing all again . 6. Thus wee 'l love , and thus wee 'l live , While our posting minutes fly , Wee 'l have no time to vex or grieve , But kiss and unkiss till we die .
SONG XXX . The Attempt . WHy should I blush or be dismay'd , To tell you I adore you ? Since Love's a pow'r , that can't be staid , But must by all be once obey'd , And you as well as those before you . Your beauty hath enchain'd my mind , O let me not then cruel find . You which are fair , and therefore should be kind . 2. Fair as the light , pure as the Ray , That in the gray-ey'd morning Leaps forth , and propagates a day : Those glories which in others stray Meet all in you for your adorning . Since nature built that goodly frame , And Virtue has inspir'd the same , Let love draw yours to meet my raging flame . 3. Joy of my soul , the only thing , That 's my delight and glory , From you alone my love does spring , If one love may another bring , 'T will crown our happy story . Those fires I burn withall are pure And Noble , yet too strong t' endure ; 'T was you did wound , 't is you that ought to cure .
SONG XXXI . To a Lady that turned her Cheek . 1. ANd why this coyness , Lady mine ? What needs all this adoe ? 'T is but a swap , my lips for thine , A gentle touch , and goe . Nay let such kisses still be kept , Let him that is deny'd Your lip , and will your cheek accept , Lye only by your side . 2. I hate to kiss your druggs and foiles , 'T is flesh that I affect , And you whose art your nature spoils , I like not , but suspect . Pray why 's your mouth more shie than mine ? Am't I as sound as you 're ? My lips let in as much good wine , And send out words as pure . 3. Expect no courtship more from me , Nor words , that you , and I May in our judgments plainly see , Make but a ranting lie : Leave these coy humours and be plain : Deny , or else be free , Look not for love , w'thout love again , I 'll kiss , if you 'l kiss me .
SONG XXXII . Practick Love . 1. PRithee Caelia tell me , why Thou fool'st away thy precious hours , Beauty fades , and youth doth fly , There 's no trust to futurity . Time present's only in our powers . She that her present joys doth deser , Would love at the last , when none will love her , And so proves her own Idolater , 2. Either love or say you will not , For love or scorn 's all one to me , Diversion's pleasant , though it fill not ; Denials vex us , but they kill not , We 're murder'd by credulity , O 't is a Ty●anny still to invite , The mind , and inrage it with faigned delight , To raise , and then baffle the appetite . 3. If you 'ld let me be but quiet , Not see your face , nor hear your name ? Though I can't conquer love . I 'ld fly it , For absence , business , friends , or dyet , Would quench or else divert my flame : But you 're so imperious grown , and so cruel , 'Cause you see that my heart is combustible , you will Not put out the fire , but still put in fuel . 4. 'T was not your face , nor yet my eye , That this devouring flame begot , If either did alone , pray why Did you not kill , and I not die Then when we knew each other not ? 'T was their constellation was my undoing , You by being beautious , and I by viewing Paid in contribution to my own ruine . 5. Come then let 's love now while we may , And let me know what I may trust to , Desires are murdred by delay , Our youth and marrow will decay , And Love , for want of use , will rust too . This kissing and courting not any thing spels , In spite of the story the Platonist tells , If it were not in order to something else .
SONG XXXIII . Translated out of French . 1. NOw I 'm resolv'd to love no more , But sleep by Night , and drink by day : Your coyness , Cloris , pray give o'e , And turn your tempting eyes away . From Ladies I 'll withdraw my heart And fix it only on the Quart. 2. I 'll place no happiness of mine A puling beauty still to court And say she 's glorious and divine , The Vintner makes the better sport . And when I say my Dear , my Heart ; I only mean it to the Quart. 3. Love has no more prerogative , To make me desperate courses take , Nor me t' an Hermitage shall drive , I 'll all my vows to th' goblet make And if I wear a Capuchoone It shall a Tankard be or none .

Added .

4. 'T is Wine alone that cheers the soul , But love and Ladies make us sad ; I 'm merry when I court the bowl , While he that courts the Madam's mad , Then Ladies wonder not at me , For you are coy , but wine is free .
SONG XXXIV . Translated out of French . 1. CLymena still complains of me And I of her complain too . But would you know the cause , why we This quarrel did attain to . 'T is 'cause I am not true saies she , And I say that again too . 2. I cannot choose but wonder why This lovely Toy doth blame me , If my heart wears inconstancy ; It is but what became me . Since she was fickle , why not I ? I 'm but as she did frame me . 3. Time was I thought our flames of love , Would turn for ever brighter ; But when she did so faithless prove , I vow'd I would requite her , I quickly did my flames remove , And now for ever slight her .
SONG XXXV . To a Painted Lady . 1. LEave these deluding tricks and showes , Be honest and down-right ; What Nature did to view expose , Don't you keep out of sight . The novice youth may chance admire , Your dressings , paints and spells : But we that are expert desire Your sex for somewhat else . 2. In your adored face and hair , What vertue could you find , If Women were like Angels fair , And every man were blind ? You need no pains or time to wast To set your beauties forth , With oyls , and paint , and drugs , that cost More than the face is worth . 3. Nature her self , her own work does And hates all needless arts , And all your artificial showes Disgrace your Nat'ral parts . You 're flesh and bloud , and so are we , Let flesh and bloud alone , To Love all compounds hateful be , Give me the pure , or none .
SONG XXXVI . To a coy Lady . 1. I Prithee leave this peevish fashion , Don't desire to be high-priz'd , Love 's a Princely noble passion , And doth scorn to be despis'd . Though we say you 're fair , you know , We your beauty do bestow , For our fancy makes you so . 2. Don't be proud 'cause we adore you , We do 't only for our pleasure , And those parts in which you glory , We by fancy weigh and measure . When for Deities you go , For Angels , or for Queens , pray know , 'T is our fancy makes you so . 3. Don't suppose your Majesty By Tyranny's best signified , And your Angellick natures be . Distinguish'd only by your pride . Tyrants make Subjects rebels grow , And pride makes Angels Dev'ls below , And your pride may make you so .
SONG XXXVII . The Recovery . 1. HOw unconcerned I can now Behold that face of thine ! The Graces and the dresses too , Which both conspir'd to make thee shine , And made me think thou wert divine . 2. And yet me thinks thou' rt wondrous fair , But I have no desires , Those Glories in thy face that are , Kindled not in my heart those fires , For that remains , though this expires . 3. Nor was 't my eyes that had such pow'r To burn my self and you , For then they 'ld every thing devour , But I do several others view , Unsing'd , and so don't think it true . 4. Nay both together could not do 't , Else we had dy'd e're this , Without some higher pow'r to boot , Which must rule both , if either miss , All t'other to no purpose is . 5. It puzzles my Philosophy , To find wherein consists This pow'r of love , and tyranny , Or in a Lovers eye , or breast Be 't where it will , there let it rest .
SONG XXXVIII . Advice to Caelia . 1. MY lovely Caelia , while thou dost enjoy Beauty and youth , be sure to use 'um , And be not fickle , be not coy , Thy self or Lovers to destroy . Since all those Lillies and those Roses , Which Lovers find , or love supposes , To flourish in thy face , Will tarry but a little space ; And youth and beauty are but only lent To you by nature , with this good intent , You should enjoy , but not abuse 'um , And when enjoyments may be had , not fondly to refuse 'um . 2. Let lovers flatt'ry ne'r prevail with thee ; Nor their oyl'd complements deceive thee , Their vows and protestations be Too often meer Hypocrisie : And those high praises of the witty May all be costly , but not fit ye , Or if it true should be Now what thy lovers say of thee , Sickness or age will quickly strip away Those fading glories of thy youthful May ; And of thy graces all bereave thee ; Then those that thee ador'd before will slight thee , and so leave thee . 3. Then while thou' rt fair and yonng , be kind , but wise , Doat not , nor proudly use denying ; That tempting toy thy beauty lies Not in thy face , but lovers eyes . And he that doats on thee may smother His love , 'i th beauty of another , Or flying at all game May quench , or else divert his flame . His reason too may chance to interpose , And love declines as fast as reason grows . There is a knack to find loves treasures Too young , too old , too nice , too free , too slow , destroys your pleasures .
SONG XXXIX . The Mad Lover . I Have been in love , and in debt , and in drink This many and many a year ; And those three are plagues enough one would think For one poor mortal to bear . 'T was drink made me fall into Love , And Love made me run into debt , And though I have strugled and strugled and strove , I cannot get out of them yet . There 's nothing but money can cure me , And rid me of all my pain . 'T wil pay all my debts , And remove all my lets , And my Mistris that cannot endure me , Will love me , and love me again , Then I 'll fall to loving and drinking amain .
SONG XL. The Murmurer . 1. LEt 's lay aside plotting and thinking , And medling with matters of State , Since we have the freedome of drinking , 'T is a folly to scribble or prate . The great ones have nothing to think on , But how to make fools of the small ; We Cavaliers suffer and drink on , And care not a louse for 'um all . 2. We thought it was matter of danger To be Rebels against our Prince ; But he that is not a meer stranger , May see it is otherwise since . 'T is only the petty Delinquent With whom the matter goes hard ; Where ever much boldness and Chink went , There honour's bestow'd and reward . 3. To keep up a turbulent nature , And fear neither God nor the King ; To be a significant Traytor , Is an advantageous thing . But since it has ever been so , And so it will ever be , Let it end as it did begin , so That it never do trouble me .
SONG XLI . A Round . SIt round , sit round , leave musing and thinking , Hang caring and working , let 's fall to our drinking ; The works of our hands Shall purchase no lands , But in spight of all care wee 'l be frolick ; He that does the glass skip , May he die of the pip , Or be lowsie that none shall endure him ; Or be plagu'd with the stone or the cholick , And find ne'r a Surgeon to cure him .
SONG . XLII . The Cavalier . WE have ventur'd our estates , And our liberties and lives , For our Master and his mates , And been toss'd by cruel fates , Where the rebellious Devil drives , So that not one of ten survives . We have laid all at stake For his Majesty's sake , We have fought , we have paid , We 've been sold and betray'd . And tumbled from nation to nation , But now those are thrown down That usurped the Crown , Our hopes were that we All rewarded should be , But we 're paid with a Proclamation . Now the times are turn'd about , And the Rebels race is run : That many headed beast , the Rout , Who did turn the Father out When they saw they were undon , Were for bringing in the Son . That phanatical crue Which made us all rue , Have got so much wealth , By their plunder and stealth , That they creep into profit and power : And so come what will , They 'll be uppermost still ; And we that are low , Shall still be kept so While those domineer and devour . Yet we will be loyal still , And serve without reward or hire , To be redeem'd from so much ill , May stay our stomacks , though not fill ; And if our patience do not tire , We may in time have our desire .
SONG XLIII . A Wife . 1. SInce thou' rt condemn'd to wed a thing , And that same thing must be a she ; And that same she to thee must cling For term of life of her and thee ; I 'll tell thee what this thing shall bee . 2. I would not have her virtuous , For such a wife I ne'er did see ; And 't is a madness to suppose What never was , nor e'er shall bee ; To seem so is enough to thee . 3. Do not desire she should be wise , Yet let her have a waggish wit ; No circumventing subtilties , But pretty slights to please and hit , And make us laugh at her , or it . 4. Nor must thou have one very just , Lest she repay thee in thy kind ; And yet she must be true to trust ; Or if to sport she has a mind , Let her be sure to keep thee blind . 5. One part of valour let her have ; Not to return but suffer ill , To her own passion be no slave But to thy law 's obedient still , And unto thine submit her will . 6. Be thou content she have a tongue , That 's active so it be not lowd ; And so she be straight-limb'd and young , Though not with beauty much endow'd , No matter , so she be but proud . 7. Tir'd she should be , not satisfi'd , But alwaies tempting thee for more , So cunningly she bee n't espy'd . Let her act all parts like a whore , So she bee n't one , I 'ld ask no more . 8. But above all things , let her be Short liv'd and rich , no strong-dock'd Jone , That dares to live till 53 , Find this wife , if thou must have one ; But there 's no wife so good as none .
SONG XLIV . On the Queens Arrival . 1. FRom the Lusitanian Shore , Our triumphing Ships are come Proudly with their royal lading , Which Britain , that now truly's great , enjoys at home , And needs no more abroad to rome , But may now give over trading . For we have that Jewel whose value is more , Then all one India's Spice , or t'other India's Ore . 2. Katharina Queen of love ! England's joy and admiration ! Fit to be made a Spouse to Jove , Spains terrour , yet their emulation ; The Portuguez riches , their glory and pride , Who now are become but a rifled nation , Such a coelestial consort to bring To the embraces of Brittains King : The world yields not so glorious a Bride , Nor is there a Prince that merits the bliss Of so great beauty , but so good a King as this . 3. Now let sea and land rejoyce , Tagus yields us golden sands ; All that have feet , or hands , or voyce , In these two united lands , Lift them up , rejoyce and sing ; Blessed Queen and happy King !

Chorus .

Long live Charles and Katharina ! To testifie our joy , We sung Vive le Roy ; But now wee 'l sing Vive le Roy & la Reigna .
SONG XLV . A Friend . FAin would I find out a friend that is true ; That we may live freely together : But men are grown false , and friends are but few , And as fickle in mind as a feather . That man I suspect , who much zeal does pretend , And will not our frailties connive at , His looks and his words are both fram'd to his end ; While some underhand-cheat he does drive at . He that still laughs in tune , and smiles in my face , And appears very courteous and civil ; If I trust him but once , I shall find him as base And perfidious as the Devil . A man of a niggardly soul I despise , His Avarice makes him slavish ; For he that his wealth more than honour doth prize , Will not only be sordid but knavish . He that soon grows rich from a beggerly life , Is not for my conversation ; He 's as proud as a Presbyter Parson's wife , Or a new made corporation . But he that is generous , jolly and wise , Good natur'd and just to any one , Such person I love and extol to the skies ; He shall be my friend and companion .
PART . II.
SONG I. The Royalist .

Written in 1646.

1. COme , pass about the bowl to me , A health to our distressed King ; Though we 're in hold , let cups go free , Birds in a cage may freely sing . The ground does tipple healths apace , When storms do fall , and shall not we ; A sorrow dares not shew its face , When we are ships and sack's the sea . 2. Pox on this grief , hang wealth , let 's sing , Shall 's kill our selves for fear of death ? We 'l live by th' air which songs doth bring , Our sighing does but wast our breath : Then let us not be discontent , Nor drink a glass the less of Wine ; In vain they 'l think their plagues are spent , When once they see we don't repine . 3. We do not suffer here alone , Though we are beggar'd , so 's the King ; 'T is sin t' have wealth , when he has none , Tush ! poverty 's a Royal thing ! When we are larded well with drink , Our heads shall turn as round as theirs , Our feet shall rise , our bodies sink Clean down the wind , like Cavaliers . 4. Fill this unnatural quart with sack ; Nature all vacuums doth decline , Our selves will be a Zodiack , And every mouth shall be a sign . Me thinks the Travels of the glass , Are circular like Plato's year , Where every thing is as it was ; Let 's tipple round ; and so 't is here .
SONG II. The Commoners .

Writtenin 1645. to the Club men .

COme your waies Bonny Boyes Of the Town , For now is your time or never ; Shall your fears Or your cares Cast you down ? Hang your wealth And your health , Get renown , We all are undone for ever . Now the King and the Crown Are tumbling down , And the Realm doth groan with disasters , And the scum of the land , Are the men that command , And our slaves are become our masters . 2. Now our lives , Children , wives And estate , Are a prey to the lust and plunder , To the rage Of our age . And the fate Of our land Is at hand , 'T is too late To tread these Usurpers under . First down goes the Crown , Then follows the gown ; Thus levell'd are we by the Roundhead , While Church and State must Feed their pride and their lust . And the Kingdom and King confounded . 3. Shall we still Suffer ill And be dumb ? And let every Varlet undo us ? Shall we doubt Of each Lowt , That doth come , With a voice Like the noise Of a Drum , And a sword or a Buffe-coat to us ? Shall we lose our estates By plunder and rates To bedeck those proud upstarts that swagger , Rather fight for your meat , Which these Locusts do eat , Now every man 's a beggar .
SONG III. The Pastoral .

On the Kings Death . Written in 1648.

WHere Englands Damon us'd to keep , In peace and awe , his flocks Who fed , not fed upon , his sheep , There Wolves and Tygres now do ▪ prey , There Sheep are slain , and Goats do sway , There raigns the subtle Fox While the poor Lamkins weep . 2. The Laurell'd garland which before Circled his brows about , The spotless coat which once he wore , The sheep-hook which he us'd to sway , And pipe whereon he lov'd to play , Are seiz'd on by the rout , And must be us'd no more . 3. Poor Swain , how thou lament'st to see Thy flocks o're-rul'd by those That serve thy Cattle all like thee : Where hateful vice usurps the Crown , And Loyalty is trodden down ; Down skrip and sheep-hook goes , When Foxes Shepherds be .
SONG IV. A Mock-Song . HAng up Mars And his wars , Give us drink , We 'l tipple my Lads together ; Those are slaves , Fools and knaves , That have chink , And must pay , For what they say , Do , or think , Good fellows accompt for neither ; Be we round , be we square , We are happier than they 're Whose dignity works their ruin : He that well the bowl rears , Can baffle his cares , And a fig for death or undoing .
SONG V. The Tr●oper . 1. COme , come , let us drink , 'T is in vain to think , Like fools on grief or sadness ; Let our money fly And our sorrows die , All worldly care is madness ; But Sack and good cheer Will in spite of our fear , Inspire our souls with gladness . 2. Let the greedy clowns That do live like hounds , That know neither bound nor measure Lament each loss , For their wealth is their cross , Whose delight is in their treasure , But we that have none , Will usetheirs as our own , And spend it at our pleasure . 3. Troul about the bowl , The delight of my soul , And to my hand commend it . A fig for chink , 'T was made to buy drink ; Before that we go we 'l end it : When we 've spent our store , The land will yield us more , And jovially we will spend it .
SONG VI. The Good-fellow . 1. STay , stay , shut the gate ; T' other quart , faith , it is not so late , As you 're thinking ; Those Stars which you see , In this hemisphere , be But the studs in your cheeks by your drinking . The Sun is gone to tipple all night in the sea boyes ; Tomorrow he 'l blush that he 's paler then we boyes , Drink wine , give him water , 't is sack makes us the boyes . 2. Fill , fill up the glass , To the next merry Lad let it pass , Come away w'it ; Come set foot to foot , And but give your minds to 't , 'T is heretical six , that doth slay wit . No helicon like to the juice of the Vine is , For Phaebus had never had wit , or diviness , Had his face not been bow-dy'd as thine , his , and mine is . 3. Drink , drink off your bowls , We 'l enrich both our heads and our souls With Canary ; A carbuncled face Saves a tedious race ; For the Indies about us we carry . Then hang up good faces , we 'l drink till our noses , Give freedome to speak what our fancy disposes ; Beneath whose protection is under the Roses . 4. This , this must go round , Off your hats , till that the pavement be crown'd With your beavers A red-coated face Frights a Sergeant at mace , And the Constable trembles to shivers . In state march our faces like those of the Qu●rum , When the Wenches fall down & the vulgar adore 'um , And our noses , like Link-boyes , run shining before 'um . An Addition by M. C. Esquire . 5. Call , call , honest Will , Hang a long and tedious bill , It disgraces ; When our Rubies appear , We justly may swear , That the reckoning is true by our faces . Let the Bar-boy go sleep , & the drawers leave roaring . Our looks wil account without them , had we more in When each pimple that rises will save a quart scoring .
SONG VII . The Mock-Song by T. J. 1. HOld , hold , quaffe no more , But restore If you can , what you 've lost by your drinking , Three Kingdoms and Crowns , With their Cities and Towns , While the King and his progeny's sinking . The studs in your cheeks have obscur'd his star boyes , Your drinking mischarriages in the late war boyes , Have brought his prerogative now to the bar boyes . 2. Throw , throw down the glass , He 's an Ass That extracts all his worth from Can●ry ; That valour will shrink That 's only good in drink , 'T was the cup made the camp to miscarry . You thought in the world , there 's no power could tame ye , You tippled and whor'd till the foe overcame ye , Gods nigs , and ne'r stir , Sir , has vanquish'd God damm me . 3. Fly , fly from the Coast , Or you 're lost , And the water will run where the drink went , From hence you must slink If you have no chink ; 'T is the course of the royal Delinquent . You love to see Beer-bowls turn'd over the thumb well , well ; You like three fair Gamesters , four Dice , & a Drum But you 'd as lief see the Devil as Fairfax or Cromwel . 4. Drink , drink not the round You 'l be drown'd In the source of your sack and your sonnets : Try once more your fate For the King against the State , And go barter your beavers for bennets . You see how they 're charm'd by the Kingdoms inchanters , And therefore pack hence to Virginia for planters ; For an Act and two Redcoats will rout all the ranters .
SONG VIII . The Answer . 1. STay , stay , prate no more , Lest thy brain , like thy purse run ' th score Though thou strain'st it ; Those are Traytors in grain , That of sack do complain , And rail by 'ts own power against it . Those Kingdoms and Crowns which your poetry pities , Are faln by the pride and hypocrisie of Cities , And not by those brains that love sack & good dities . The K. and his progeny had kept 'um from sinking , Had they had no worse foes , then the Lads that love drinking , We that tipple ha' no leisure for plotting or thinking . 2. He , he is an Asse That doth throw down himself with a glass Of Canary ; He that 's quiet will think Much the better of drink , 'Cause the cups made the camp to miscarry you lie , You whore though we tipple , and there my friend Your sports did determine in the month before July , There 's less fraud in plain dam me , then your sly by my truly : 'T is Sack makes our blouds both the purer & warmer ; We need not your priest or the feminine charmer , For a bowl of Canary's a whole suite of armour . 3. Hold , hold , not so fast ; Tipple on , for there is no such hast To be going : We drowning may fear , But your end will be there Where there is neither swiming , nor rowing : We were Gamesters alike , and our stakes were both down boyes , But Fortune did favour you being her own boyes , And who would not venture a cast for a crown boyes . Since we wear the right colours he the worst of our foes is , That goes to traduce us , and fondly supposes , That Cromwel is an enemy to Sack and red noses . 4. Then , then quaffe it round , No deceit in a brimmer is found ; Here 's no swearing , Beer and Ale makes you prate Of the Kirk and the State , Wanting other discourse worth the hearing : This strumpets your Muses , to ballad or flatter Or rail , and your betters with froth to bespa●ter , And your talk 's all diurnals and Gunpowder matter : But we ( while old Sack does divinely inspire us ) Are active to do what our Rulers require us , And attempt such exploits as the world shall admire us .
SONG IX . The Levellers Rant .

Written in 1648.

TO the Hall , to the hall , For justice we call , On the King and his pow'rful adherents & friends , Who still have endeavoured , but we work their ends . 'T is we will pull down what e're is above us , And make them to fear us , that never did love us ; We 'l level the proud , and make every degree To our Royalty bow the knee ; 'T is no less then treason 'Gainst freedom and Reason For our brethren to be higher than we . 2. First the thing , call'd a King , To judgement we bring , And the spawn of the Court , that were prouder then he , And next the two Houses united shall be , It does to the Romish religion enveagle ; For the State to be two headed like the spread-eagle We 'l purge the superfluous Members away , They are too many Kings to sway , And as we all teach ; 'T is our Liberties breach , For the Free-born Saints to obey . 3. Not a Claw , in the Law , Shall keep us in aw ; We 'l have no cushion-cuffers to tell us of hell ; For we are all gifted to do it as well ; 'T is freedom that we do hold forth to the Nation , To enjoy our fellow-creatures as at the creation : The Carnal mens wives are for men of the spirit , Their wealth is our own by merit ; For we that have right , By the Law called Might , Are the Saints that must judge and inherit .
SONG X. The New Courtier .

Written in 1648.

SInce it must be so , Then so let it go , Let the Giddy-brain'd times turn round ; Since we have no King let the goblet be crown'd , Our Monarchy thus we 'l recover ; While the pottles are weeping , we 'l drench our sad souls In big-bellied bowles , Our sorrows in Sack shall lye steeping , And we 'l drink till our eyes do run over ; And prove it by reason , That it can be no Treason To drink and to sing A mournival of healths to our new-crown'd King . 2. Let us all stand bare , In the presence we are ; Let our noses like bonfires shine , In stead of the Conduits , let the pottles run wine , To perfect this new Coronation ; And we that are loyal , In drink , shall be Peers , While that face , that wears Pure Claret , looks like the bloud-royal , And out-stares the Bores of the Nation : In sign of obedience , Our oaths of Allegiance Beer-glasses shall be , And he that tipples ten , ▪ s of the Nobility . 3. But if in this Raign , The Halberted train Or the Constable should rebel , And should make their twy-bill'd militia to swell , And against the Kings party raise arms , Then the Drawers like Yeomen Of the Guard , with quart-pots , Shall fuddle the sots , While we make 'um both cuckolds and freemen , And on their wives be up alarums . Thus as each health passes , We 'l tripple the glasses , And hold it no sin , To be loyal and drink in defence of our King .
SONG XI . The Safety .

Written in 1648.

SInce it has been lately enacted high Treason , For a man to speak truth of the heads of the state , Let every wise man make use of his reason ; See and hear what he can , but take heed what he prate . For the proverbs do learn us , He that stayes from the battail , sleeps in a whole skin , And our words are our own , if we can keep 'um in ; What fools are we then , that to prattle begin Of things that do not concern us ? 2. Let the three-kingdoms fall to one of the prime ones My mind is a Kingdom , and shall be to me , I could make it appear , if I had but the time once I 'm as happy with one , as he can be with three , If I could but enjoy it . He that 's mounted on high , is a mark for the hate And the envy of every pragmatital pate , While he that creeps low , lives safe in his state , And greatness doth scorn to annoy it . 3. I am never the better which side gets the battel , The Tu●s or the Crosses what is it to me ? They 'l never increase my goods or my cattel , But a beggar 's a beggar , and so he shall be , Unless he turn Traytor . Let Misers take courses to heap up their treasure , Whose lust has no limits , whose mind has no measure ; Let me be but quiet and take a little pleasure , And little contents my nature . 4. My petition shall be that Canary be cheaper , W'thout patent or custome , or cursed excise ; That the Wits may have leave to drink deeper and deeper , And not be undone , while their heads they baptist And in liquor do drench 'um , If this were but granted , who would not desire , To dub himself one of Apollo's own quire ? We 'l ring out the bells , when our noses are on fire And the quarts shall be the buckets to 〈◊〉 5. I account him no wit , that is gifted at railing , And flirting at those that above him do sit ; While they do out wit him with whipping and go●●ing ▪ Then his purse and his person both pay for his wit ▪ 'T is better to be drinking : If Sack were reform'd into Twelve pence a quart , I 'ld study for money to merchandize for 't , And a friend that is true , we together will sport : Not a word , but we 'l pay them with thinking ▪
SONG XII . The Companion . WHat need we take care for Platonical Rules ? Or the precepts of Aristotle ? They that think to find learning in books are bu● fools , True Philosophy lies in the bottle . And a mind That 's confin'd To the mode of the Schools . Ne'r arrives at the height of a pottle Let the sages Of our ages Keep a talking Of our walking , Demurely , while we that are wiser , Do abhor all That 's moral In Plato And Cato And Seneca talks like a Sizer .

Chorus .

Then let full bowles on bowles be hurl'd , That our jollity may be compleater , For Man though he be but a very little world , Must be drown'd , as well as the greater . 2. We 'l drink till our cheeks are as starrd ' as the skies ; Let the pale-colour'd students flowt us , And our noses like Comets , set fire on our eyes , Till we bear the whole heavens about us . And if all Make us fall , Then our heels shall devise What the stars are a doing without us . Let Lilly Go tell you Of thunders And wonders , Let Astrologers all divine ; And let Booker Be a looker Of our natures In our features , He 'l find nothing but Claret in mine .

Chorus . Then let full bowles , &c.

SONG XIII . Copernicus . 1. LEt the bowl pass free From him to thee As it first came to me , 'T is pity that we should confine it , Having all either credit or coyn yet , Let it e'n take its course , There 's no stopping its force , He that shuffles must inter-line it . 2. Lay aside your cares , Of Shops and Wares , And irrational fears ; Let each breast be as thoughtless as his'n is , That from his bride newly ris'n is ; We 'l banish each soul , That comes here to condole , Or is troubled with love or business . 3. The King we 'l not name , Nor a Lady t' enflame With desire to the game , And into a dumpishness drive all , Or make us run mad , and go wive all ; We 'l have this whole night Set a part for delight , And our mirth shall have no corrival . 4. Then see that the Glass Through its circuit do pass , Till it come where it was ; And every nose has been within it , Till he end it that first did begin it ; As Copernicus found , That the Earsh did turn round , We will prove so does every thing in it .
SONG XIV . The Painters Entertainment . 1. THis is the time , and this in the day Design'd for mirth and sporting , We 'l turn October i●●● May , And make St. Luke's feast As pleasant and long as the rest We 'l in our own faces our colours display , And hallow our yearly resorting . Then let the bowles turn round round , While in them our colours we mingle , To raise our dull souls from the ground , Our arts and our pains are thus crown'd ▪ And happy are we , That in unity be ▪ 'T is a hell upon earth to be single .

Chorus .

'T was love at first that brought us hither , And love stall keep us here together . 2. First to the Master of the feast , This health is consecrated ; Thence to each sublimary guest , Whose soul doth desire , This Nectar to raise and inspire ; Till he with Apelles himself doth contest , And his fancy is elevated ,

Then let , &c.

Chorus . 'T was love , &c.

3. Lo how the air , the earth , and th' seas , Have all brought in their treasure , To feast each sence with rarities , Plump Bacchus brings wine , And Ceres her dainties doth joyn ; The air with rare musick doth eccho , and these All club to create us pleasure .

Then let the bowles , &c.

Chorus . 'T was love , &c.

4. Now in our fancies we will suppose The word in all its glory ; Imagine all delight that growes , And pleasures that can Fill up the vast soul of a man ; And glut the coy pallat , the eyes , ears and nose , By the fancy presented before you .

Then let the bowles , &c.

Chorus . 'T was love , &c.

5. We 'l use no pencil now but the bowl , Let every artist know it , In sack we will pourtray each soul ; Each health that is took , Will give us the livelier look ; And who 's he that dares our fancy controul , When each Painter is turned a poet ?

Then let the bowles , &c.

Chorus . 'T was love , &c.

6. And though we cannot the day extend Beyond its proper measure ; The night and it themselves shall blend , We care not for night , When our hearts and our heads are all light , Nor the time , nor the company shall have an end , Honest mirth of it self is a treasure .

Then let the bowles , &c.

Chorus . 'T was love , &c.

SONG XV. The Cnre of Care . 1. WHy should we not laugh and be jolly ? Since now all the world is mad ; All lull'd in a dull melancholly : He that wallows in store , Is still gaping for more ; And that makes him as poor , As that wretch that never any thing had . How mad is the damn'd money-monger , That to purchase to him and his heirs , Growes shrivled with thirst and hunger ? While we that are bonny , Buy Sack for ready money , And ne'r trouble Scriv'ners nor Lawyers . 2. Those Gulls that by scraping and toyling , Have swell'd the Revenues so vast , Get nothing by all their turmoyling , But are marks for each tax , While they load their own backs , With the heavier packs , And lie down gall'd and weary at last ; While we that do traffick in Tipple , Can baffle , the gown and the sword , Whose jawes are so hungry and gripple ; We ne'r trouble our heads , With indentures or deeds , But our Wills are compris'd in a word . 3. Our money shall never Indite us , Nor drag us to Goldsmiths-hall ; Nor Pira's , nor storms can affright us : We that have no estates , Pay no taxes or rates , But can sleep with open gates , He that lies on the ground cannot fall : We laugh at those fools , whose endeavours Do but fit 'um for prisons or fines , While we that spend all are the savers ; For if theeves do steal in , They go out empty agin , Nay the Plunderers lose their designs . 4. Then let 's not take care for to morrow , But tipple and laugh while we may , To wash from our hearts all sorrow ; Those Cormorants which Are troubled with an itch , To be mighty and rich , Do but toyle for the wealth which they borrow . The Mayor of the Town with his ruff on , What a pox is he better than we ? He must vail to the men with the buff on ; He Custard may eat , And such luberly meat , But we drink and are merrier than he .
SONG . XVI . Content . Out of Anacreon . 1. IF wealth could keep a man alive , I 'ld only study how to thrive ; That having got a mighty mass , I might bribe the fates to let me pass : But since we can't prolong our years , Why spend we time in needless sighs and tears ? For since Destiny Has decreed us to die , And all must pass o're the old ferry ; Hang riches and cares , Since we ha'nt many years , We 'l have a short life and a merry , 3. Times keep their round , and destiny , Observes no● whe'r we laugh or cry , And Fortune never does bestow , A look on what we do below : But men with equal swiftness run To prey on others , or be prey'd upon ; Since we can take no course , To be better or worse , Let none be a melancholly thinker ; Let the Times the round go , So the cups do so too , Ne'r blush at the name of a Drinker .
SONG XVII . Mirth . Out of Anacreon . 1. WHen our brains well liquor'd are , Then we charm asleep our care , Then we accompt Machiavil a fool with his plots , And cry there 's no depth , But the bottom o' th' pots , Then Hector compar'd with us , will be But a coward , and Craesus beggarly : Then with songs our voices we raise , And circle our Temples with bayes ; Then Honour we account but a blast of Wind , And trample all things in our mind . The valiant at arms , That are led by fond charms , Get their honour with harms , While he that takes up A plentiful cup , To no danger is brought , But of paying his groat . Then quickly come Lad and fill our cups full , For since down we must all be laid , 'T is held a good rule In Bacchus free-school 'T is better lie drunk then dead .
SONG XVIII . The Independants Resolve .

Written in 1648.

COme Drawer and fill us about some wine , Let 's merrily tipple the day 's our own ; We 'l have our delights , let the countrey go pine , Let the King and his Kingdom groan . The Crown is our own , and so shall continue ; We 'l Monarchy baffle quite , We 'l drink off the Kingdoms revenue , And sacrifice all to delight . 'T is power that brings Us all to be Kings , And we 'l be all crown'd by our might . 2. A fig for divinity lectures and law , And all that to Loyalty do pretend ; While we by the sword keep the Kingdom in awe , Our power shall never have end : The Church and the State we 'l turn into liquor , And spend a whole Town in a day ; We 'l melt all their bodkins the quicker Into Sack ▪ and drink them away . We 'l keep the demeans , And turn Bishops and Deans , And over the Presbyter sway . 3. The nimble St. Patrick is sunk in his boggs , And his Countrey-men , sadly cry O hone , O hone ! St. Andrew and 's Kirk-men are lost in the foggs , Now we are the Saints alone . Thus on our Superiours and Equals we trample , And Jockie our stirrup shall hold : The City 's our Mule for example , That we may in plenty be roul'd . Each delicate dish , Shall but Eccho our wish And our drink shall be cordial gold .
SONG XIX . On Canary . 1. OF all the rare juices , That Bacchus or Ceres produces , There 's none that I can , nor dare I Compare with the princely Canary ; For this is the thing That a fancy infuses ; This first got a King , And next the nine Muses 'T was this made old Poets so sprightly to sing , And fill all the world with the glory and fame on 't , They Helicon call'd it , and the Thespian-spring , But this was the drink , though they knew not the name on 't . 2. Our Sider and Perry , May make a man mad but not merry ; It makes people windmill-pated , And with crackers sophisticated ; And your hops , yest , and malt , When they 're mingled together , Makes our fancies to halt , Or reel any whither : It stuffs up our brains with froth , and with yest , That if one would write but a verse for a Bel-man He must study till Christmas for an shilling-jest ▪ These liquors won't raise , but drown , and o'rewhelm man . 3. Our drousie Metheglin Was only ordain'd to enveigle in ; The Novice that knows not to drink yet , But is fudled before he can think it ; And your Claret and White , Have a Gun-powder fury , They 're of the French spright , But they wont long endure you . And your holiday Muscadine , Allegant , and Tent , Have only this property and vertue that 's fit in 't : They 'l make a man sleep till a preachment be spent , But we neither can warm our bloud nor our wit in ' 〈…〉 4. The Bagrag and Rhenish You must with ingredients replenish ; 'T is a wine to please Ladies and toyes with , But not for a man to rejoyce with : But 't is Sack makes the sport , And who gains but that flavour , Though an Abbess he court , In his high shooes , he I have her . 'T is this that advances the drinker and drawer , Though the father came to Town in his hob-nails and leather , He turns it to Velvet , and brings up an Heir , In the Town in his ●hain , in the field with his feather ▪
SONG XX. The Leveller . 1. NAy prethee don't fly me , But sit thee down by me , I cannot endure A man that 's demure Go hang up your Worships and Sirs ; Your congies and trips , With your legs , and your lips ; Your Madams and Lords , And such finikin words , With the complements you bring , That do spell NO-THING ; You may keep for the chains and the furs : For at the beginning , was no Peasant or Prince , And 't was policy made the distinction since . 2. Those Titles of honours Do remain in the Donours . And not in that things , To which they do cling . If his soul be too narrow to wear 'um , No delight can I see In that word call'd degree , Honest Dick sounds as well As a name of an ell , That with titles doth swell , And sounds like a spell , To affright mortail ears that hear 'um . He that wears a brave soul , and dares gallantly do , May be his own Herald and Godfather too . 3. Why then should we doat on , One with a fools coat on ? Whose Coffers are cram'd , But yet he 'l be damn'd . Ere he 'l do a good act , or a wise one ; What Reason has he To be ruler o'r me ? That 's a Lord in his chest , But in 's head and his breast Is empty and bare , Or but puff'd up with air , And can neither assist nor advise one , Honour 's but air , and proud flesh but dust is ; 'T is we Commons make Lords , and the Clerk makes the Justice . 4. But since men must be Of a different degree , Because most do aspire , To be greater and higher , Then the rest of their fellows and brothers , He that has such a spirit , Let him gain it by 's merit ; Spend his brain , wealth , or blood For his Countreys good , And make himself fit By his valour or wit , For things 'bove the reach of all others ; For honour ' s a prize , and who wins it may wear it , If not , 't is a badge and a burthen to bear it . 5. For my part let me Be but quiet and free , I 'll drink Sack and obey , And let great ones sway , Who spend their whole time in thinking ; I 'll ne'r busie my pate With secrets of State , The News-books I 'll burn all , And with the Diurnal Light Tobacco , and admit That they 're so far fit , As they serve good company and drinking . All the name I desire , is an honest Good-fellow ; And that man has no worth , that won't sometimes be mellow .
SONG XXI . The Royallists Answer . 1. I Have reason to fly thee , And not sit down by thee ; For I hate to behold , One so sawcy and bold , To deride and contemn his superiours : Our Madams and Lords , And such mannerly words , With the gestures that be Fit for every degree , Are things that we and you Both claim as our due , From all those that are our inferiours . For from the beginning there were Princes , we kno● 'T is you Levellers hate 'um , 'cause you can't be 〈…〉 2. All Titles of honours Were at first in the donours ; But being granted away , With the Grantee stay , Whe'r he wear a small soul or a bigger . There 's a necessity That there should be degree ; Whe'r 't is due we 'l afford A Sir John , and my Lord ; Though Dick , Tom , and Jack , Will serve you and your pack ; Honest Dick's name enough for a Digger . He that has a strong purse , can all things be or do , He is valiant , and wise , and religious too . 3. We have cause to adore , That man that has store , Though a Bore or a sot , There 's something to be got ; Though he be neither honest nor witty ; Make him high , let him rule ; He 'l be playing the fool , And transgress , then we 'l squeeze Him for fines and for fees . And so we shall gain , By the wants of his brain ; 'T is the fools-cap that maintains the City . If honour be air , 't is in common , and as fit , For the fool and the clown , as for the champion or the wit . 4. Then why may'nt we be Of different degree ? And each man aspire To be greater and higher Then his wiser and honester brother ; Since Fortune and Nature Their favours do scatter ; This hath valour , that wit , T'other wealth , nor i's t fit That one should have all ; For then what would befall Him , that 's born not to one nor to t'other ? Though honour were a prize at first , now 't is a chattel , And as merchantable grown as your wares , or your cattel . 5. Yet in this we agree , To live quiet and free , To drink Sack and submit , And not shew our wit By our prating , but silence , and thinking , Let the politick Jews Read Diurnals and News , And lard their discourse , With a Comment that 's worse ; That which pleaseth me best , Is a song or a Jest , And my obedience I 'll shew by my drinking . He that drinks well , does sleep well ; he that sleeps wel● doth think we● He that thinks well , does do well , he that does well , mu●● drink we●●
SONG XXII . The safe Estate . 1. HOw happy a man is he , Whose soul is quiet and free , And liveth content with his own ! That does not desire To swell nor aspire , To the Coronet , nor to the Crown . He doth sit and devise , Those Mushromes that rise , But disturbs not his sleep , At the quoil that they keep , Both in Countrey and Town ; In the plain he sits safe , And doth privately laugh At high thoughts that are tumbling down . 2. His heart and his head are at rest , And he sleeps with a sorrowless breast , That aspires not to sit at the helm : The desires of his mind , To 's his estate are confin'd ; And he lets not his brains to o'r whelm . He 's for innocent sport , And keeps off from the Court ; And if sad thoughts arise , He does only devise With Sack to repel 'um . Though the times do turn round , He doth still keep his ground , Both in a Republique and Realm . 3. He wears his own head and ears , And he tipples in safety with 's peers , And harmlesly passeth his time : If he meet with a cross , A full bowle he doth toss , Nor his wealth , nor his wit , are his crime . He doth privately sit With his friend clubbing wit ; And disburd'ning their breasts Of some innocent jests , And not higher doth clime . He smiles at the fate Of those Courtiers of State , That fall down 'cause their thoughts are sublime . 4. But Princes and Nobles are still , Not tenants for life , but at will , And the giddy-brain'd rout is their Lord : He that 's crowned to day , A Scepter to sway , And by all is obey'd and ador'd ; Both he and his Crown , In a trice are thrown down ; For an Act just and good , If mis-understood , Or an ill-relish'd word ; While he that scorns pelf , And enjoyes his own self , Is secure from the Vote or the Sword .
SONG XXIII . Th' Astrologers , That trade in Starrs , Tell me I have not long to live ; Yet do I cry ; Lo here am I , Let fortune still Do what she will , I 'll neither care nor grieve . 2. Fortune I know , Is still my foe , And lets me not grow fat , nor thrive ; But I , I vow , Will never bow , Nor doat and be As blind as she , But keep my self alive . 3. This I do know , We all must go ; Though some go sooner , others later ; But why so fast ? There 's no such hast ; Some post are gone , We 'l but jog on , Bait first , and then walk after . 4. The clown and 's beast Make hast to rest , But Lords and Courtiers sit up longer : Before we part , Fill t'other quart ; Wash t'other eye , And then we 'l try Whe'r death or man be stronger . 5. In th' interim , Fill to the brim ; Travelling will make us weary ; Since th' journey's great , And hurts our feet , Bacchus shall be A horse for me , He 's strong enough to carry .
SONG XXIV . The Polititian .

Written in 1649.

WHat madness is 't for him that 's wise , To be so much self-hating ? Himself and his to sacrifice , By medling still with things too high , That don't concern , but gratifie His letchery of prating . What is 't to us who 's in the ruling power ? While they protect , we 're bound to obey , But longer not an hour . 2. Nature made all alike at first , But men that fram'd this fiddle Of government , made best and worst , And high and low , like various strings , Each man his several ditty sings , To tune this state down diddle . In this grand wheel the world , we 're spokes made all , But that it may still keep its round , Some mount while others fall . 3. The blinded Ruler that by night , Sits with his host of Bill-men , With their chalk'd weapons , that affright The wondring clown that haps to view His Worship , and his Gowned crew , As if they sate to Kill men . Speak him but fair , he 'l let you freely go : And those that on the high rope dance , Will do the same trick too . 4. I 'll ne'r admire That fatuous fire , That is not what it seems , For those , that now to us seem higher : Like painted bubbles blown i' th air , By boyes , seem glorious and fair , 'T is but in boyes esteems . Rule of its self 's a toyl and none would bear it , But that 'twixt pride and avarice , And close revenge they 'l share it . 5. Since all the world is but a stage , And every man a player ; They 're fools that lives or states engage ; Let 's act and juggle as others do , Keep what 's our own , get others to ; Play whiffler clown or Maior : For he that sticks to what his heart calls just , Becomes a sacrifice and prey To the prosperous whirlegigs lust . 6. Each wise man first best loves himself , Lives close , thinks and obeys ; Makes not his soul a slave to 's pelf ; Nor idly squanders it away , To cram their mawes that taxes lay , On what he does , or sayes ; For those grand cords that man to man do twist , Now are not honesty and love But self and interest .
SONG XXV . The Prisoners .

Written when O. C. attempted to be King .

COme a brimmer ( my bullies ) drink whole ones or nothing , Now healths have been voted down , 'T is Sack that can heat us , we care not for cloathing , A gallon's as warm as a gown ; 'Cause the Parliament sees , Nor the former nor these , Could engage us to drink their health , They Vote that we shall Drink no healths at all , Nor to King , nor to Common-wealth , So that now we must venture to drink 'um by stealth . 2. But we 've found out a way that 's beyond all their thinking ; To keep up Good-fellowship still ; We 'l drink their destruction that would destroy drinking , Let 'um Vote that a health if they will . Those men that did fight , And did pray day and night For the Parliament and its attendant , Did make all that bussle , The King out to justle , And bring in the Independent , But now we all clearly see what was the end on 't . 3. Now their Idol's thrown down with their sooterkin also , About which they did make such a pother , And though their contrivance made one K. to fall so We have drunk our selves into another . And now ( my Lads ) we May still Caveliers be , In spite of Committees frown : We will drink , and we 'l sing , And each health to our King , Shall be Royally drunk in the Crown , Which shall be the Standard in every Town . 4. Those politick would-bees do but shew themselves asses , That other mens calling invade , We only converse with pots and with glasses ; Let the Rulers alone with their trade . The Lyon of the Tower , Their estates does devour , Without shewing law for 't or reason ; Into prison we get , For the crime called debt , Where our bodies and brains we do season , And that is ne'r taken for murther or treason . 5. Where our ditties still be , give 's more drink , give 's more drink boyes , Let those that are frugal take care ; Our Goalers and we will live by our chink boyes , While our Creditors live by the air . Here we lie at our ease , And get crast and grease , Till we 've merrily spent all our store ; Then as drink brought us in , 'T will redeem us agen ; We got in because we were poor , And swear our selves out on the very same score .
SONG XXVI . Satisfaction . 1. I Have often heard men say , That the Philosophers of old , Though they were good , and grave , and gray , Did various opinions hold ; And with idolatry adore The Gods that themselves had made before ; And we that are fools do do no more . 2. Every man desires what 's good ; But wherein that good consists , Is not by any understood . This sets on work both pens and fist ; For this condemns what that approves , And this man doth hate , what that man loves ; And that 's the grand wheel that discord moves . 3. This would valiant be , that wise , That 's for th' sea , and this for land ; All do judge upon surmise , None do rightly understand ; These may be like , but are not that , Something there is that all drive at , But only they differ about the WHAT . 4. And from all these several ends . Springs diversity of actions , For every man his studies bends , As opinion builds his faction . Each man 's his own God-smith ; what he Thinks good , is good to him , and we First make , and then adore our deity . 5. A mind that 's honest , pure , and just , A sociable life and free , A friend that dares not break a trust , Yet dares die , if occasion , be ; A heart that dictates to the tongue , A soul that 's innocent and strong , That can , yet will not do any wrong : He that has such a soul , and a mind , That is so blest , and so inclin'd , What all these do seek for , he does sind .
SONG XXVII . The Club. 1. PRithee ben't so sad and serious , Nothing 's got by grief or care ; Melancholy's too imperious , Where it comes 't will domineer ; If thou hast a cloudy breast , In which thy cares would build a nest ; Then drink good Sack , 't will make the rest , Where sorrows come not near . 2. Be it business , love , or sorrow , That possesses thus thy mind , Bid them come again to morrow ; We are now to mirth inclin'd , Fill thy cup and drown them all , Sorrows still do for liquor call , We 'l make this Bacchus festival , And cast our cares behind . 3. He that has a heart that 's drowsie , shall be surely banished hence ; We 'l shun him as a man that 's lowsie , He 's of dangerous consequence : And he that 's silent like a block , Deserves to be made a laughingstock , Let all good fellows shun that rock , For fear they forfeit sense . 4. Still those clocks , let time attend us , We 'l not be to hours confin'd ; We 'l banish all that may offend us , Or disturb our mirth design'd ; Let the glass still run its round , And each good-fellow keep his ground , And if there be any flincher found , We 'l have his soul new-coyn'd .
SONG XXVIII . The Prodigal . 1. NAy perswade not , I 've swore We 'l have one pottle more , Though we run on the score , And our credits do stretch for 't ; To what end does a father Pine his body , or rather Damn his soul , for to gather Such store , but that he has this fetch for 't ; That we sons should be high boyes , And make it all fly boyes , And when he does die boyes , Instead of a Sermon we 'l sing him a catch for 't . 2. Then hang the Dull wit Of that white-liver'd cit , That good-fellowes does hit In teeth with a red-nose ; May his nose look blew , Or any dreadfuller hew , That may speak him untrue , And disloyal unto the headnose ; 'T is the scarlet that graces , And sets out our faces , And that nature base is , That esteems not a Copper-nose , more than a Lead-nose . 3. All the world keeps a round , First our Fathers abound In wealth and buy ground , And then leave it behind 'um : We 're straight put in black , Where we mourn and drink Sack , And do t'other knack , While they sleep in their graves we ne'r mind um : Thus we scatter the store , As they rak'd it before ; And as for the poor , We enrich them as fast as our fathers did grind 'um .
SONG XXIX . The Antipolititian . 1. COme leave thy care , and love thy friend ; Live freely , don't dispair , Of getting money there 's no end , And keeping it breeds care . If thou hast money at thy need , Good company , and good Wine , His life , whose joyes on wealth do feed , 's not half so sweet as thine . 2. I can enjoy my self and friends , W'thout design or fear , Below their envie , or base ends , That Polititians are . I neither toyle , nor care , nor grieve , To gather , keep , or loose ; With freedom and content I live , And what 's my own I use . 3. While men blown on with strong desires Of riches or renown , Though ne'r so high , would still be higher , So tumble headlong down : For Princes smiles turn oft to frowns , And favours fade each hour ; He that to day heaps Towns on Towns , To morrow 's clap't i' th Tower . 4. All that we get by all our store , 's but honour or dominion ; The one 's but trouble varnish'd o're , And t'others but opinion . Fate rules the roast , Times alwaies change ; 'T is fancy builds all things ; How madly then our minds do range , Since all we grasp hath wings . 5. Those empty terms of rich and poor , Comparison hath fram'd ; He hath not much that covets more , Want is but will , nick-nam'd . If I can safely think and live , And freely laugh or sing , My wealth I 'll not for Craesus's give , Nor change lives with a King .
SONG XXX . The New Gentry . 1. ENough for shame ! leave off this fooling ; Prithee cringe no more , Nor admire the ill-gotten store Of the upstart Mushromes of our Nation , With blind and groundless adoration ; If thy nature still wants schooling , As thou dost grow old , grow wise , For age can easily advise , And make thee know , 'T is only such as thou That bring and keep both fools and knaves in fashion . 2. We make each other proud and knavish , For where ever we Great abundance chance to see , There we fling both power and honour , As if wealth were the only donour ; And our natures are so slavish , That we tamely will submit , All our reason , strength , and wit ; And pay , and pray Great men in power , that they Will take our Liberty and trample on her . 3. What is 't makes all men so much covet , Toyling more and more , To increase a needless store ; So violently tugg and hall for 't , Venturing body and soul and all for 't ? The rich are flatter'd ▪ and they love it ; We obey their shalls and musts ; And to gratifie their lusts , We madly strive Who first our selves shall give , And all that is ours to them , if they 'l but call for 't ▪ 4. If we did take no notice of them , Like not , nor applaud Their spoyls obtain'd by force and fraud ; But would live content and jolly , Laughing at their painful folly , And would neither fear nor love them : Underneath their loads , they 'ld groan , Or with shame would throw them down ; And live as free From needless cares as we : Slight pomp and wealth , that makes men melancholly . 5. Pray what are all these gaudy bubbles That so boast and rant , Of what they think they have , but ha'nt ? But men that had the luck of living , And made others fall their thriving ; Hail-stones got in storms of troubles : That for valour are as fit For Knights , as to be Squires for wit , Inspir'd with pride , Did what good men defi'd , Grown great by Protean turning and conniving . 6. That man that would have me adore him , With my heart , he must Be noble , pow'rful , wise , and just , And improve his parts and power To support , not to devour , Nor pride ; nor lust , must e'r rule o'r him . Th' bug-bear greatness without this , An idle , empty pageant is : He that doth rise , And is not good and wise , I honour not , but pity and deplore him .
SONG XXXI . The Cheerful Heart . 1. WHat though these ill times do go cross to our will ? And fortune still frowns upon us ? Our hearts are our own , and they shall be so still ; A pin for the plagues they lay on us . Let us take t'other cup , To keep our hearts up , And let it be purest Canary ; We 'l ne'r shrink or care , For the crosses we bear , Let 'um plague us until they be weary . 2. What though we are made , both beggars and slaves , Let us stoutly endure it , and drink on : 'T is our comfort we suffer , 'cause we will not be knaves , Our redemption will come e're we think on 't . We must flatter and fear Those that over us are , And make 'um believe that we love 'um , When their tyranny's past , We will serve them at last , As they serv'd those that have been above 'um . 3. The Levites do preach , for the Goose and the Pig , To drink wine but at Christmas and Easter ; The Doctour doth labour our lives to new-trig ; And makes nature to fast , but we feast her ; The Lawyer doth bawl , Out his lungs and his gall , For the Plantiff and for the Defendant ; At books the Scholar lies , Till by Flatus he dies , With the ugly hard word at the end on 't 4. But here 's to the man that delights in Sol fa , 'T is Sack is his only Rosin ; A load of heigh-ho's are not worth a ha , ha ; He 's the man for my money that draws in . Come a pin for this Muck And a fig for ill Luck ; 'T is better be blyth and frolick , Then to sigh out our breath , And invite our own death By the Gout or the stone , and the cholick .
SONG XXXII . Made and Set Extempore . 1. WHen our glasses flow with Wine , And our souls with Sack are rais'd ; When we 're jeer'd we do not repine ; Nor are proud when we are prais'd : 'T is Sack alone can raise our souls , A pin for Christning drinking-bowles . 2. Let the Drawer raise our fancies , With his wit-refining drink ; Hang your stories and Romances ; Those are fit for them that think : Let him love that has a mind , We to drinking are inclin'd . 3. Wit and love , are th' only things Which fill the thoughts of Kings and us ; Imagination makes us Kings , And that 's rais'd by doing thus . Drink your Sack , let wit alone , Wit by drinking best is shown .
SONG XXXIII . The Answer to the Curse against Ale . 1. OGag for shame that strumpet muse ! Let not her Spanish tongue abuse Our wholsome and Heroick English juice . 2. 'T was not this loyal liquor shut Our Gates against our Soveraign , but Strange drinks into one tub together put . 3. When Ale was drink Canonical , There were no theeves , nor watch , nor wall , Men neither stole , nor lack'd , for Ale was all . 4. That Poet ought be dry or dumb , And to our brown - bowls never come , Who drinking Ale , vents only dregs and scum . 5. Nor had that Souldier drunk enough , For Ale both valour gives and buffe , Makes men unkickable , and cudgel-proof . 6. 'T was the meal , not meal-man , was the cause The mill fell down ; for one small clause In one meal-act , hath overthrown our lawes . 7. The worth of Ale none can proclaim , But by th' assistance of the same , From it our Land derives its noblest name . 8. With this men were inspir'd , but not As kick shaw-brains are now ( God wot ) Inspir'd , that is , run mad , none knows with what . 9. How did our stout fore-fathers make , All Antichristian Nations quake , When they their Nut-brown bowles and bills did take ! 10. What noble sparks old Ale did kindle ! But now strange drinks do make men dwindle , And Pigmies get , scarce fit to sway a spindle . 11. This liquor makes the drinkers fight Stoutly , while others stoutly write : This both creates the Poet , and the Knight . 12. This makes the drawer in his Gown And chain , to ride and rule the Town , Whose orient Nose exemplifies his frown . 13. How reverently the burly Host , With basket-hilted pot and tost , Commands the bak'd-meats , and then rules the rost ; 14. But oh the Brewer bears the bell ! This makes him to such highness swell , As none but Ale-inspir'd , can think or tell . 15. Divert that curse then , or give o're , Don Philip can hurt Ale no more , Then his Armado , England heretofore .
SONG XXXIV . The Reformation . 1. TEll not me of Lords or Lawes , Rules or Reformation ; All that 's done's not worth two strawes , To the welfare of the Nation . Men in power do rant it still , And give no reason but their will , For all their domination . Or if they do an act that 's just , 'T is not because they would , but must , To Gratifie some parties lust , Or meerly for a fashion . 2. Our expence of bloud and purse . Has produc'd no profit . Men are still as bad or worse , And will be what e'r comes of it . We 've shuffled out , and shuffled in , The persons , but retain the sin , To make our game the surer : Yet spite of all our pains and skill , The knaves all in the pack are still , And ever were , and ever will , Though something now demurer : 3. And it cannot but be so , Since those toyes in fashion ; And of souls so base and low , And meer Bigots of the Nation , Whose designs are power and wealth , At which by rapines , fraud , and stealth , Audaciously they vent'r ye ; They lay their consciences aside , And turn with every wind and tide , Puff'd on by Ignorance and pride , And all to look like Gentry . 4. Crimes are not punish'd cause they 'r crimes , But 'cause they 're low and little ; Mean men for mean faults , in these times , Make satisfaction to a tittle ; While those in office and in power , Boldly the underlings devour . Our Cobweb-laws can't hold 'um . They sell for many a Thousand crown , Things which were never yet their own , And this is law and custome grown , Cause those do judge that sold 'um . 5. Brothers still with Brothers brawl , And for trifles sue 'um ; For two pronouns that spoil all , Those contentious Meum , Tuum : The wary lawyer buyes and builds , While the Client sells his fields , To sacrifice to 's fury ; And when he thinks to obtain his right , He 's baffled off , or beaten quite , By th' Judges will , or Lawyers slight , Or ignorance of the Jury . 6. See the trades-man how he thrives With perpetual trouble , How he cheats , and how he strives His Estate t' enlarge and double ; Extort , oppress , grind , and encroach , To be a Squire and keep a coach , And to be one o' th Quorum , Who may with 's brother worships sit , And judge without law , fear , or wit , Poor petty thieves that nothing get , And yet are brought before 'um . 7. And his way to get all this Is meer dissimulation ; No factious lecture does he miss , And scapes no schism that 's in fashion ; But with short hair and shining shooes , He with two pens , and 's note-book goes , And winks and writes at randome ; Thence with short meal , and tedious Grace , In a loud tone and publick place , Sings Wisdoms hymns , that trot and pace , As if Goliah scand 'um . 8. But when death begins his threats , And his Conscience struggles , To call to mind his former cheats ; Then at heav'n he turns his juggles , And out of all 's ill-gotten store , He gives a dribling to the poor , In a Hospital , or a School-house ; And the suborned Priest for 's hire , Quite frees him from th' infernal fire , And places him i' th Angels quire ; Thus these Jack-puddings fool us , 9. All he gets by 's pains i' th close , Is that he died worth so much , Which he on 's doubtful seed bestows , That neither care nor know much ; Then fortunes favourite , his heir , Bred base , and ignorant , and bare , Is blown up like a bubble ; Who wondring at 's own sudden rise , By pride simplicity and vice , Falls to three sports , drink , drab , and dice ▪ And makes all fly like stubble . 10. And the Church the other twin , Whose mad zeal enrag'd us , Is not purifi'd a pin , By all those broyls in which she engag'd us , We our wives turn'd out of doors , And took in Concubines and Whores , To make an alteration : Our Pulpiteers are proud and bold , They their own Wills and factions hold , And sell salvation still for Gold , And here 's our Reformation . 11. 'T is a madness then to make Thriving our employment , And lucre love , for Lucres sake , Since we 've possession , not enjoyment ▪ Let the times run on their course , For opposition makes them worse , We ne'r shall better find 'um ; Let Grandees wealth and power engross , And honour too , while we sit close , And laugh and take our plenteous dose Of Sack , and never mind 'um .
SONG XXXV . For the General 's Entertainment . 1. FArewell all cares and fears , let Gladness come , Let 's all strive which shall most rejoyce ; No more the Trumpet , or the Thundring Drum , Shall interrupt our peace with noise ; But all their Offices shall be Inherited by sprightly melody . Th' inchanting Lute and the melodious Lyre , With well tun'd souls does make A full harmonious Quire . 2. In vain do we our selves , our selves destroy ; In vain do English , English beat : Contests are cruel , we must now wear joy , And all in love , each other greet . Our civil discords now shall cease , And lose themselves in a desired peace ▪ All things by war are in a Chaos hurl'd , But love alone first made , And still preserves the World . 3. The Trophies of the Conquerours of old , And all the spoyls with which they 'r crown'd , Were all but types of what we do behold , What they did seek for , we have found . Here peace and plenty sweetly kist , And both loyalty and vertue , twist ; Then let our joy rise high , that all may share it ; Let wealth and honour meet desert ; He that wins Gold may wear it .
SONG XXXVI . On Sir G. B. his Defeat . 1. PRay why should any man complain , Or why disturb his breast or brain , At this new alteration ? Since that which has been done's no more Than what has been done before ; And that which will be done agen , As long 's there are ambitious men , That strive for domination . 2. In this mad age there 's nothing firm ▪ All things have periods and their term , Their Rise and Declinations . Those gaudy Nothings we admire , Which get above , and shine like fire , Are empty vapours , rais'd from th' ground , Whose mock-shine past , they quickly down Must fall like Exhalations . 3. But still we Commons must be made A gall'd , a lame , thin , hackney jade , And all by turns will ride us ; This side , and that , no matter● which , For both do ride with spur and switch , Till we are tyr'd ; and then at last , We stumble , and our riders cast , 'Cause they 'ld not feed , nor guide us . 4. The insulting Clergy quite mistook , In thinking Kingdoms past by book , Or Crowns were got by prating ; 'T is not the black-coat , but the red , Has power to make , or be the head ; Nor is it words , or oathes , or tears , But Muskets , or full Bandeliers , Have power of Legislating . 5. The Lawyers must lay by their book , And study Lambert more then Cook , The sword 's the learned'st pleader ; Reports and judgements will not do 't , But 't is Dragoons , and Horse , and foot : Words are but wind , but blows come home ; A stout tongu'd Lawyer 's but a Mome , Compar'd to a stout File-leader . 6. Luck , wit , or valour , rule all things , They pull down , and they set up Kings ; All lawes are in their bosome : That side is alwaies right that 's strong , And that that 's beaten must be wrong ; And he that thinks it is not so , Unless he 's sure to beat 'um too , Is but a fool t' oppose 'um . 7. Let them impose taxes or rates , 'T is but on those that have estates , Not such as I and thou are , But it concerns those worldlings , which Are left , or made , or else grow rich ; Such as have studied all their daies , The saving and the thriving waies , To be the mules of power . 8. If they reform the Church or State , We 'l ne'r be troubled much thereat , Let each man take's opinion ; If we don't like the Church you know , Taverns are free and there we go ; And if every one would be As clearly unconcern'd as we , They'd ne'r fight for Dominion .
SONG XXXVII . Against Corrupted Sack . 1. SACK ! once my comfort and my dear delight , Dull mortals quickning spirit ; Thou didst once give affections , wit , and might ; Thou mad'st the Lover , and the Wight ; Thou mad'st one dye , and t'other fight ; Thou mad'st the Poet , who made both ; and thou Inspir'dst our brains with g●nial fire till now , Th' hast justly lost thy honour , 'Cause th' hast ▪ lost thy power and merit . 2. Now we depose thee from th' usurped throne , Since thou' rt degenerate and disloyal ; Thou hast no proper father of thine own , But art ● bastard got by th' Town , By Aequiv●ke generation , Thy Bawds , the Vintners do compound thee more , Then Flavel or Besse Beer ere drugg'd a whore ; Nor canst thou now inspire , nor ●eed , Nor cherish ; but destroy all . 3. Oh where 's that sprightly Poetry and Wit , That should endure for ever ? Had Homer drank thy mixture , he had writ Lines that would make the Reader spit ; Nor beyond puns would Pindar get ; Virgil and Horace , if inspir'd by thee , Had writ but lewd and pagan poetry ; Dull dropsi'd ▪ lines , or else as dry and raging as a Feaver . 4. Treasons committed and contriv'd by thee , Kingdoms and Kings subverted ; 'T is thou makest Rulers fools and cowards bee , And such as ought to bend the Knee , Madly invade the Soveraignty ; Thou throw'st us on all actions , vi●e and fell , First mak'st us do , and then thou mak'st us tell ; And whom we swore to serve , By thee we ●asely have deserted ▪ 5. Thou plague of bodies and th' unnatural Nurse , Of Sickness and Physitians ; Raine of wit , and strength , and fame , and purse , That hast destroy'd poor mortals worse Then the great plague , or M●rosh curse . In fifty nine th' hast spilt more English bloud Then e'r in eighty eight the Spaniard could By his Armado , or can since destroy By 's Inquisitions . 6. Hence from my veins , from my desires be gone ; I loath thee and defie thee ; I 'll now find out a purer Helicon , Which wits may safely feast upon , And baffle thy hobgoblin Don ; And live to see thee and thy mungrel race , Contemn'd and rooted out of every place ; And those thou 'st fool'd and wrong'd like me , For ever ever fly thee .
SONG XXXVIII . The Lamentation .

Written in 164● .

1. MOurn London , mourn ▪ Bathe thy polluted ●oul in tears : Return , return ; Thou hast more cause of grief , then th' hadst fo● 〈◊〉 ▪ For the whole ▪ Kingdo●● now begins To feel thy sorrows , as they saw thy sins , And now do no Compassion show Unto thy misery and wo ▪ But slight thy sufferings as thou didst theirs . 2. Pride , towring pride , And boyling lust , those fatal twins Sit side by side , And are become plantations of sins . Hence thy Relellions first did flow , Both to the King above , and him below : And fordid floth , The Nurse of both , Have rais'd thy crimes to such a growth , That sorrow must conclude as sin begins . 3. Fire raging fire , Shall burn thy stately towers down , Yet not expire ; Tygres and Wolves , or men more savage grown , Thy childrens brains , and thine shall dash , And in your bloud their guilty tallons wash ; Thy Daughters must Allay their lust ; Mischiefs will be on miscief thrust , Till thy Cap tumble , as thou mad'st the Crown ▪ 4. Cry London cry ! Now now petition for redress ; Where canst thou fly ? Thy emptied chests augment thy heaviness , The Gentry and the Commons loath , Th' adored Houses slight thee worse then both ; The King poor Saint , Would help but can't : To heav'n alone unfold thy want ▪ Thence came thy plagues , thence only pity flow'th .
SONG XXXIX . The Riddle .

Written in 1644.

1. NO more , no more , We are already pin'd ; And sore , and poor , In body and in mind : And yet our sufferings have been Less then our sin . Come long-desired peace we thee implore , And let our pains be less , or power more . 2. Lament , Lament , And let thy tears , run down , To see the rent Between the Robe and Crown ; Yet both do strive to make it more Then 't was before : War like a serpent has its head got in , And will not end so soon as 't did begin . 3. One body Jars , And with its self does fight ; War meets with wars , And might resisteth might ; And both sides say they love the King , And peace will bring : Yet since these fatal civil broyles begun , Strange Riddle ! both have conquer'd , neither won . 4. One God , one King , One true Religion still ; In every thing One Law both should fulfil ; All these both sides does still pretend That they defend : Yet to encrease the King and Kingdoms woes , Which side soever wins , good subjects lose . 5. The King doth swear , That he doth fight for them ; And they declare , They do the like for him : Both say they wish and fight for peace , Yet wars increase : So between both , before our wars be gone , Our lives and goods are lost , and we 're undone . 6. Since 't is our curse , To fight we know not why ▪ 'T is worse and worse The longer thus we lye : For war it self is but a Nurse To make us worse . Come blessed peace , we once again implore , And let our pains be less , or power more .
SONG XL. On the Kings Return . 1. LOng have we waited for a happy End Of all our miseries and strif ; But still in vain ; the Sword-men did intend , To make them hold for term of Life ; That our distempers might be made , Their everlasting livelihood and trade . 2. They entayle their Swords and Guns , And pay , which wounded more , Upon their Daughters and their Sons , Thereby to keep us ever poor . 3. And when the Civil wars were past , They civil Government envade , To make our taxes , and our slavery last , Both to their titles , and their trade . 4. But now we are redeem'd from all , By our Indulgent King ; Whose coming does prevent our fall ; With loyal and with joyful hearts we 'l sing .

Chorus .

Welcome , welcome royal May , Welcome long desired Spring , Many Springs and Mays we 've seen , Have brought forth what 's gay and green ; But none is like this glorious day , Which brings forth our Gracious King .
SONG XLI . A Catch . LEt 's leave off our labour , and now let 's go play ; For this is our time to be jolly ; Our plagues and our plaguers are both fled away ; To nourish our griefs is but folly . He that won't drink and sing , Is a Traytor to 's King ; And so 's he that does not look twenty years younger , We 'l look blithe and trim , With rejoycing at him That is the restorer , and will be the Prolonger , Of all our felicity and health , The joy of our hearts , and increase of our wealth ; 'T is he brings our trading , our trading brings riches , Our riches brings honours , at which every mind itches , And our riches bring Sack , & our Sack brings us joy , And our joy makes us leap , and sing Vive le Roy.
SONG XLII . For General Monk his entertainment at Cloath-workers-Hall . 1. RIng Bells ! and let bone-fires out-blaze the Sun ! Let ecchoes contribute their voice ! Since now a happy settlement's begun , Let all things tell how all good men ▪ rejoyce . If these sad Lands by this , Can but obtain the bliss Of their desired , though abused peace ; We 'l never never more Run mad , as we have heretofore , To buy our ruine ; but all strife shall cease . 2. The Cobler shall edifie us no more , Nor shall in divinity set any stitches . The women we will no more hear and adore , That preach with their husbands for the breeches . The Phanatical tribe , That will not subscribe To the orders of Church and of State , Shall be smother'd with the zeal Of their new common-weal , And no man will mind what they prate .

Chorus .

We 'l eat , and we 'l drink , we 'l dance , and we 'l sing , The Roundheads & Caveys no more shall be nam'd ; But all joyn together to make up the ring ; And rejoyce that the many-headed dragon is tam'd . 'T is friendship and love , that can save us , and arm us ; And while we all agree , there is nothing can harm us .
SONG XLIII . The Advice . 1. HE that a happy life would lead , In these dayes of distraction , Let him listen to me , and I will read A lecture without faction ; Let him want three things , Whence misery springs , All which do begin with a letter ; Let him bound his desires , With what nature requires , And with reason his humours fetter . 2. Let not his Wealth prodigious grow , For that breeds cares and dangers ; Makes him hated above and envyed below , And a constant slave to strangers . He is happiest of all , Whose estate is but small , Yet enough to delight and maintain him : He may do , he may say , Having nothing to pay , It will not quit costs to arraign him . 3. Nor must he be clogg'd with a Wife ; For houshold cares incumber ; And do to one place confine a mans life , 'Cause he can't remove his lumber . They 're happiest by far , Who unwedded are , And forrage on all in common ; From all storms they can fly , And if they should dy , They ruine nor child nor woman . 4. Nor let his brains o'rflow with wit , That capers o●●'s discretion ; 'T is costly to keep , and 't is hard to get , And 't is dangerous in the possession . They are happiest men Who can scarce tell ten , And beat not their brains about reason ; They may speak what will serve , Themselves to preserve , And their words are ne'r taken for treason . 5. But of all fools there is none like the Wit , For he takes pains to shew it ; When his pride , or his drink , work him into a fit ; Then straight he must be a Poet : Then his Jests he flings , Both at States and at Kings , For Applause , and for Bayes and Shadows : Thinks a verse saves as well As a circle or a spell , 'Till he rhithmes himself to the Barbadoes . 6. He that within these bounds can live , May baffle all disasters ; To Fortune and Fates commands he may give , Which worldlings make their masters . He may sing , he may laugh , He may dance , he may quaff ; May be mad , may be sad , may be jolly ; He may sleep without care , And wake without fear , And laugh at the whole world , and its folly .
BALLADS .
I. The Satyr of Money . 1. IT is not the Silver or Gold of its self , That makes men adore it ; but 't is for its power : For no man does dote upon pelf , because pelf ; But all court the Lady in hopes of her Dower . The wonders that now in our daies we behold , Done by th' irresistible power of Gold , Our Love , and our Zeal , and Allegiance do mould . 5. This purchaseth Kingdoms , Kings , Scepters , & Crowns ; Wins Battels , and conquers the Conquerors bold ; Takes Bulwarks , and Castles , and Armies , and Towns , Our prime Laws , are written in letters of Gold : 'T is this that our Parliaments calls , and creates ; Turns Kings into Keepers , and Kingdoms to States , And Peopledoms this into High-doms translates . 3. This plots doth devise , then discovers what th' are ; This makes the great folons the lesser condemn : Sets those on the bench that should stand at the bar ; Who judge such as by right , ought to execute them : Gives the boystrous Clown his unsufferable pride ; Make● Beggers , and ●●ols , and usurpers to ●ide , While ruin'd properties run by their side . 4. Stamp either the arms of the State , or the King , St. George or the breeches , C. R. or O. P. The Cross and the fiddle , 't is all the same thing . This still is the Queen , who e're the King be . This lines mens Religion , builds doctrines and truth , With zeal , and the spirit ; the factious endu'th , To club with St. Katherine , or sweet sister Ruth . 5. This made our black Senate to sit still so long ; To make themselves rich by making us poor ; This made our bold Army so daring , and strong ; And that made them drive 'um like Geese out of door . 'T was this made the Covenant-makers to make it ; And this made our Levites to make us to take it ; And this made both makers and takers forsake it . 6. This spawn'd the dunghil crew of Committees and ' Strators , Who lived by picking their Parliaments Gums ; This made , and then prospered Rebels and Traytors , And made Gentry of those that were the Nations scums . This Herald gives arms , not for merit but store ; Gives Coats unto such , as did sell coats before ; If their nockers be lin'd but with Argent and Or. 7. 'T is this makes the Lawyer give judgment and pledd , On this side , or that side , on both sides or neither , This makes Yeomen Clerks , that can scarce write or read , And spawns arbitrary orders as various as the weather : This makes the blew-lecturor pray , preach and prate , Without reason or truth against K. Church , or State , To shew the thin lyning of his twice-cover'd pa●e . 8. 'T is this that makes Earls , Lords , Knights , & Esquires , Without breeding , discent , wit , learning , or merit ; Makes Ropers and Ale-drapers Sheriffs of Shires , Whose trade 's not so low , nor so base as their spirits This Justices makes , and wise ones we know ; Furr'd Aldermen likewise , and Mayors also , Makes the old wife to trot , and makes the Mare go . 9. This makes the blew aprons write themselves worshipful , And for this we stand bare , and before 'um do fall ; They leave their young Heirs well fleeced with wool , whom we 're to call Squires , and they 're to pay all ; Who with beggarly souls , though their bodies are gawdy , Court the pale Chamber-maid , and nick-name her a Lady ; And for want of discourse they do swear and talk baudy . 10. For money mens lives may be purchas'd and sold , 'T is money breaks laws , and that mends 'um again ; Men venture their quiet and safety for gold , When they won't stir a foot their rights to maintain . This Doctors createth of Dunces , and those , Commanders that use to pollute their hose ; This buyes the spruce gallant his verse and his prose . 11. This marriages makes , 't is the centre of love ; It draws on the man , and it pricks up the woman ; Birth , vertue , and parts , no affection can move , While this makes Lords bow to the brat of a Broom-man . Gives vertue , and beauty to the lass that you woe , Makes women of all sorts and ages to do ; 'T is the soul of the world , and the worldling too . 12. This horses procures you , and hawks , hounds , and hares ; 'T is this keeps your Groom , and your Groom keeps your Geldings ; It buyes Citizens wives as well as their wares , And makes your coy Ladies so coming and yielding ; This buyes us good Sack , which revives like the spring ; This gives the poetical fancies their wing ; This makes you as merry as we that do sing .
11. Upon a Sign-post , set up at Skoale in Norfolk . 1. DId none of you hear , Of a wonder last year ; That through all Norfolk did ring ; Of an Inn and an Host , With a Sign and a post , That might hold ( God bless us ) the King . 2. The building is great , And very compleat , But cann't be compar'd to the sign ; But within doors , I think 's scarce a drop of good drink , For Bacchus drinks all the best wine . 3. But here 's the design , What 's amiss in the Wine , By wenches shall be supply'd ; There 's three on a row Stands out for a show , To draw in the Gallants that ride . 4. The first of the three , Diana should be , But she cuckolded poor Actaeon , And his head she adorns With such visible horns , That he 's fit for his hounds for to prey on . 5. 'T is unsafe we do find To trust Women kind , Since horning's a part of their trade ; Diana is plac't As a Goddess that 's chast , Yets Actaeon a Monster she made . 6. The next wench doth stand , With the scales in her hand , And is ready to come at your beck ; A new trick they 've found , To sell Sack by the pound , But 't were better they 'd sell 't by the peck . 7. The last of the three They say prudence must be , With the serpent and horn of plenty ; But plenty and wit So seldom doth hit , That they fall not to one in twenty . 8. But above these things all , Stands a fellow that 's small , With a Quadrant discerning the wind , And says hee 's a fool That travels from Skoale , And leaves his good liquor behind . 9. Near the top of the sign , Stand three on a line , One is Temperance , still powring out ; And Fortitude will Drink what Temperance fill , And fears not the stone or the gout . 10. The next to these three , You 'l an Usurer see , With a prodigal child in his mouth ; 'T is Time ( as some say ) And well so it may , For they be devourers both . 11. The last that you stare on , Is old father Charon , Who 's wafting a wench o'r the ferry ; Where Cerberus do's stand , To watch where they land , And together they go to be merry . 12. Now to see such a change , Is a thing that is strange , That one , who as stories do tell us , His money has lent At fifty per cent , A Colledge should build for good fellows . 13. But under this work , Does a mystery lurk , That shews us the founders design ; He has chalk'd out the way For Gallants to stray , That their lands may be his in fine ? 14. That 's first an Ale-bench , Next hounds , then a wench , With these three to roar and to revel ; Brings the prodigals lands , To the Usurers hands , And his body and soul to the Devil . 15. Now if you would know , After all this adoe , By what name this sign should be known ; Some call 't this , and some that , And some I know not what ; But 't is many signs in one . 16. 'T is a sign that who built it , Had more money then wit , And more wealth then he got or can use ; 'T is a sign that all we Have less wit then he , That come thither to drink , and may chuse .
III. A new Diurnal of passages , more Exactly drawn up then heretofore . Printed and published , 't is order'd to be By Henry Elsing the Clerk of the P.
June 1. 1643. SInce many Diurnals ( for which we are griev'd , Are come from both Houses , & are not believ'd The better to help them for running and flying , We have put them in Verse , to Authorise their lying For it has been debated , and found to be true , That lyings a Parliament Priviledge too : And that they may the sooner our conquests reherse ' We are minded to put them in Galloping verse : But so many maim'd Souldiers from Reading there came , That in spite of the Surgeons , make our verses go lame . We have ever us'd Fictions , and now it is known , Our Poverty has made us Poetical grown .
Munday . On Munday both Houses fell into debate , And were likely to fall by the ears as they sate ; Yet would they not have the business decided , That they ( as the Kingdom is ) might be divided . They had an intention to Prayers to go , But Extempore Prayers are now Common too . To Voting they fall ; and the key of the work , Was the raising of money for the State and the Kirk . 'T is only-Free-loan ; yet this order they make , That what men would not lend , the should Plunder and take . Upon this , the word Plunder came into their mind , And they all did labour a new one to find : They call'd it distraining , yet thought it no shame , To persist in the Act , which they blush't for to name . They Voted all persons from Oxford that came , Should be apprehended : and after the same , With an Humble Petition , the King they request , Hee 'd be pleas'd to return , and be serv'd like the rest . A message from Oxford conducing to peace , Came next to their hands , that Armes might cease . They Voted , and Voted , and still they did vary , Till at last the whole sense of the House was contrary To reason ; they knew by their Arms they might gain , What neither true reason , nor Law can maintain . Cessation was voted a dangerous plot ; Because the King would have it , both Houses would no● . But when they resolv'd it , abroad must be blown , ( To baffle the world ) that the King would have none . And carefully muzled the mouth of the press , Lest the truth should peep through their jugling dress . For they knew a cessation would work them more harms , Then Essex could do the Cavaliers with his arms . While they keep the Ships and the Forts in their hand , They may be Traytors by Sea , as well as by Land . The Forts will preserve them as long as they stay , And the Ships carry them and their plunder away . They have therefore good reason to account war the better , For the Law will prove to them but a killing letter .
Tuesday . A Post from his Excellence came blowing his Horn , For Money to advance , and this spun out the Morn ; And strait to the City some went for relief , The rest made an Ordinance to carry Powder-Beef . Thus go up the Round-heads , and Essex advances , But only to lead his Souldiers new dances . To Reading he goes , for at Oxford ( they say ) His wife has made Bull-works to keep him away . Prince Rnpert , for fear that the name be confounded , Will saw off his horns , and make him a Round-head . The newes was returned with General fame , That Reading was taken ere ever he came : Then away Rode our Captains , and Souldiers did run , To shew themselves valiant , when the Battail was done , Preparing to plunder , but as soon as they came , They quickly perceived it was but a flam : An Ordinance of Parliament Essex brought down ; But that would not serve him to batter the Town . More money was rais'd , more Men and Ammunition , Carts loaded with Turnips , and other provision . His Excellence had Chines and Rams-heads for a present , And his Councel of War had Wood-cock and Pheasant : But Ven had 5000. Calves heads all in carts , To nourish his Men and to chear up their hearts : This made them so valiant , that that very day , They had taken the Town but for running away . 'T was Ordered this day , that thanksgiving be made , To the Round-heads in Sermons , for their beef , and their bread ,
Wednesday . Two Members this day at a Conference sate , And one gives the other a knock on the pate . This set them a voting , and the upper House swore , 'T was a breach of priviledge he gave him no more . The lower the breaking their Members head voted A breach of their priviledge ; for it is to be noted , That Treason and Priviledge in it did grow ; 'T was a breach of his Crown and dignity too . Then came in the Women with a long long petition , To settle Militia and damn the Commission . For if fighting continue , they say they did fear , That Men would be scarce , and Husbands be dear : So plainly the Speaker the business unties , That presently all the Members did rise : They had hardly the leisure all things to lay ope , But some felt in their Bellies if they had not a Pope ; Some strictly stood to them , and others did fear , Each carried about them a fierce Cavalier : This business was handled by the Close-Committee , That privately met at a place in the City : So closely to voting the Members did fall , That the humble Sisters were overthrown all : But they and their helpers came short at the last , Till at length the whole work on Prince Gri●●ith was cast ; And he with his troup did handle the matter , He pleased every Woman , as soon as he came at her . The business had like to have gone on their side , Had not Pym perswaded them not to confide . For rather then peace , to fill the Common-wealth , He said hee 'd do ten every night himself .
Thursday . This day a great fart in the house they did hear , Which made all the Members make buttons for fear ; And one makes nine speeches while the business was , hot , And spake through the nose that he smelt out the plot . He takes it to task , and the Articles drawes , As a breach of their own Fundamental laws . Now Letters were read which did fully relate A victory against New-Castle of late ; That hundreds were slain , and hundreds did run , And all this was got ere the battel begun : This then they resolved to make the best on ; And next they resolved upon the Question , That Bonfires and praises , the Pulpit and Steeple , Must all be suborned to couzen the People : But the policy was more money to get , For the conquest 's dear bought , and far enough fet ; Such victories in Ireland , although it be known , They strive to make that Land as bad as our own ▪ No sooner the money for this was brought hither , But a croud of true Letters came flocking together , How Hotham and 's army , and others were beaten . This made the blew Members to startle and threaten : And these by all means must be kept from the City , And only referred to the Privy-Committee : And they presently with an Extempore Vote , ( which they have used so long , that they learned by rote , ) They stil'd them malignant , and to lies they did turn them , Then Corbet in stead of the Hangman , must burn them : And he after that an Ordinance draws , That ▪ none should tell truth that disparag'd the cause . Then P. like a Pegasus trots up and down , And takes up an angel to throw down a Crown : He stands like a Centaure and makes a long speech , That came from his mouth , and part from his breech : He moves for more Horse , that the Army may be Part Mans-flesh and Horse-flesh , as well as he ; And hee 'l be a Colonel as well as another , But durst not ride a horse , 'cause a horse rode his Mother .
Friday . Sir Hugh Cholmley for being no longer a Traytor , Was accus'd of treason in the highest Nature ; 'Cause he ( as they bad him ) his Souldiers did bring , To turn from Rebellion , and fight for the King : They voted him out , but , nor they nor their men Could vote him into the house agen . Sir David's Remonstrance next to them was read , From the Cities round body , and Isaac's the head : 'T was approv'd ; but one cause produc'd a denial , That all Traytors be brought to a Legal trial : For 't is against reason to vote or to do Against Traytors when they are no other but so ; Because about nothing so long they sit still , They hold it convenient Diurnals to fill : And therefore they gave their Chronographer charge To stuffe it with Orders and Letters at large . The King by 's Prerogative , nor by the Law , Can speak , nor print nothing his people to draw : Yet Penny-les Pampleters they do maintain , Whose only Religion is Stipendary gain . Who Cum Privilegio , against King and the State , The treason that 's taught them ( like Parrats ) they prate . These Hackneys are licenc't what ever they do , As if they had Parliament priviledge too . Thus then they consult ; so zealous they are , To settle the peace of the Kingdom by war : But against Civil war their hatred is such , To prevent it they 'l bring in the Scots and the Dutch. They had rather the Land be destroy'd in a minute , Then abide any thing that has loyalty in it ; And yet their rebellion so neatly they trim , They fight for the King , but they mean for King Pym These all to fight for , and maintain are sent The Lawes of England : but New-England is meant ; And though such disorders are broke in of late , They keep it the Anagram still of a State : For still they are plotting more riches to bring , To make Charles a rich and glorious King ; And by this rebellion this good they will do him , They 'l forfeit all their Estates unto him . No Clergy must meddle in Spiritual affairs , But Layton ne'r heard of it , losing his ears , For that he might be deaf to the prisoners cries , To a spiritual Goalers place he must rise . The rest have good reason for what they shall do , For they are both Clergy and Laity too : Or else at the best , when the question is stated , They are but Mechannicks newly translated . They may be Committees to practise their bawling , For stealing of horses is a spiritual calling . The reason why people our Martyrs adore , 'Cause their ears being cut off , their fame sounds the more . 'T was ordered the Goods of Malignants and Lands , Shall be shar'd among them , and took into their hands . They send spirits for more malignants to come , That every one in the house may have some . Then down to Guild-hall they return with their thanks , To the fools whom the Lottery has cheated with blanks .
Saturday . This day there came news of the taking a Ship , ( To see what strange wonders are wrought in the deep ) That a troop of their Horse ran into the Sea , And pull'd out a Ship alive to the key ; And after much prating and fighting they say , The ropes serv'd for traces to draw her away : Sure these were Sea-horses , or else by their lying They 'ld make them as famous for swimming as flying . The rest of the day they spent to bemoan Their Brother the Round-head that to Tyburn was gone , And could not but think it a barbarous thing , To hang him for killing a friend to the King : He was newly baptized , and held it was good To be washed , yet not in water , but blood . They ordered for his honour to cut off his ears , And make him a Martyr ; but a Zelot appears , And affirm'd him a Martyr , for though 't was his fate To be hang'd , yet he dy'd for the good of the State . Then all fell to plotting of matters so deep , That the silent Speaker fell down fast asleep : He recovers himself and rubs up his eyes , Then motions his house that 't was time to rise . So home they went all , and their business referr'd To the Close-Committee by them to be heard ; They took it upon them , but what they did do , Take notice that none but themselves must know .
Postscript . Thus far we have gone in Rhithm to disclose , What never was utter'd by any in prose ; If any be wanting , 't was but a mishap , Because we forgot to weigh't by the map ; For over the Kingdom their orders were spread , They have made the whole body as bad as the head ; And now made such work , that all they can do , Is but to read Letters and answer them too . We thought to make Finis the end of the story , But that we shall have more business for you . For ( as their proceedings do ) so shall our Pen , Run roundly from Munday to Munday agen . And since we have begun , our Muse doth intend ▪ To have ( like their votes ) no beginning nor end .
IV. On the demolishing the Forts . IS this the end of all the toil , And labour of the Town ? And did our Bulwarks rise so high , Thus low to tumble down ? All things go by contraries now , We fight to still the Nation , Build Forts to pull down popery , Pull down for Edification . These Independents tenets , and Their waies so pleasing be , Our City won't be bound about , But stands for liberty . The Popish doctrine shall no more Prevail within our Nation ; For now we see that by our works , There 's no Justification . What an Almighty army 's this , How worthy of our praising , That with one vote can blow down that ; All we so long were raising ! Yet let 's not wonder at this change , For thus 't will be withall : These works did lift themselves too high , And pride must have a fall . And when both Houses vote agen , The Cavies to be gone ; Nor dare to come within the lines , Of Communication : They must reserve the sense , or else Refer't to the Divines , And they had need sit seven years more , Ere they can read those lines . They went to make a Gotham on 't , For now they did begin To build these mighty banks about , To keep the Cuckoes in . Alas what need they take such pains ! For why a Cucko here , Might find so many of his mates , Hee 'l sing here all the year . Has Isaac our L. Mayor , L. Mayor , With Tradesmen and with wenches , Spent so much time , and cakes and beer , To edifie these trenches ! All trades did shew their skill in this , Each wife an Engineer : The Mayoress took the tool in hand , The maids the stones did bear . These Bulwarks stood for Popery , And yet we never fear'd 'um . And now they worship and fall down , Before those calves that rear'd 'um . But though for superstition , The crosses have been down'd , Who 'ld think these works would Popish turn , That ever have been round ? This spoils our Palmistry ; for when Wee 'l read the Cities fate , We find nor lines nor crosses now , As it hath had of late . No wonder that the Aldermen , Will no more money lend , When they that in this seven years , Such learned works have penn'd . Now to debase their lofty lines , In which the wits delighted , 'T is thought they 'l ne'r turn Poets more , Because their works are slighted . These to a doleful tune are set , For they that in the town , Did every where cry Up go we , Now they must sing down down . But if that Tyburn do remain , When t' other slighted be , The City will thither flock and sing , Hay , hay , then up go we .
V. The Clown . 1. AH surra , is 't a come to this ? That all our Weez-men do zo miss ? Esdid think zo much avore , Have we kept veighting here zo long . To zell our Kingdom vor a zong , O that ever chwor a bore ! 2. Echave a be a Cavaliero , Like most weeze-men that escood hear , o. And shoor sdid wish 'um well , But within sdid zee how the did go To cheat the King and Countrey too , Esbid 'um all vorwell . 3. Thoo whun the club-men wor so thick , Esput my zive upon a stick . And about eswent among 'um ; And by my troth esdid suppose That they were honester then those That now do zwear they 'l hang 'um . 4. Was 't not enow to make men vite , When villains come by de and night , To plunder and undoe ▪ 'um ; And Garizons did vet all in , And steep the Countrey to the skin , And we zed nothing to 'um ? 5. But we had zoon a scurvy pluck , The better Men , the worser luck ; We had knaves and vools among us ▪ Zome turn'd , zome cowards run away , And left a vew behind to try , And bloudy rogues to bang us : 6. But now 't is a come to a scurvy matter , Cham in the house of the Surgan-strater , That have no grace , nor pitty ; But here they peel , and pole , and squeeze ; And when cha ' paid them all their fees , They turn me to the mittee . 7. Like furies they zit three and three , And all their plots to begger we , Like Pilate and the Jews ; And zome do ze that both do know , Of thick above , and those below , 'T is not a turd to chose . 8. But tho Echood redeem my grown , Es went to London to compoun , And ride through ween and weather ; Estaid there eight and twonty week , And chowor at last zo much to zeek , As when Es vur'st come thither . 9. There whun's zeed voke to Church repair , Espi'd about vor Common-Prayer ; But no zuch thing scould zee . The zed the Common'st that was there , Was vrom a tub , or a wicker chair ; They call'd it stumpere . 10. Es hur'd 'um pray , and every word , As the wor sick , they cri'd O Lord : And thoo ston still agen , And vor my life escould not know , Whun they begun or had ado , But when they zed amen , 11. They have a new word , 't is not preach , Zdo think zome o' me did call it teach ; A trick of their devizing : And there zo good a nap sdid vet , Till 't was adoo , that 's past zun-zet , As if ' twor but zun-rising . 12. At night zo zoon's chwar into bed , Sdid all my prayers without book read ; My Creed and Pater noster : Me think zet all their prayers to thick , And they do goo no more a leek , Then an Apple's like an Oyster . 13. Chad nead to watch , zo well as pray , Whun c have to-do with zuch as they , Or else Es may go zeek ; They need not bid a monthy vast ; Vor if zoo be these times do last , T wool come to zeav'n a weak . 14. Es waited there a huges time , And brib'd thick men to know my crime , That esmed make my peace , At last esvown my purse was vat , And if chwould be reform'd of that , They wood give me a release . 15. Esgid 'um bond voor neenscore pown , Bezides what chad a paid 'um down , And thoo they made me swear , Whun chad a reckon'd what my cost are , Es swear'd chood ene zit down aloster , Vor by my troth chawr weary . 16. Thoo when scome home esbote some beass , And chowr in hope we should ha' peace , Case here 's no Cavaliers , But now they zed's a new quandary , Tween Pendents and Presbytary , C ham agast they 'l go by the ears . 17. Esbore in hon 't would never last , The mittees did get wealth zo vast , And Gentlemen undoo ; Uds wonderkins toold make one mad , That three or four livings had , Now can't tell whare to goo . 18. Chazeed the time when escood gee My dater more then zix of the : But now by bribes and stortions ; Zome at our wedden ha bestow'd In Gloves more then avore this wood A made three daters portions . 19. One om ow'd me three hundred pown , Es zend vor zome , he paid it down ; But within three daies ater , Ech had a ticket to restore The same agen , and six times more ; Is'nt this a couzning matter ! 20. Whun chood not do 't smot to black-rod , A place was ne'r a made by God , And there chowr vain to lye , Till chad a gidd'n up his bon , And paid a hundred more in hon , And thoo smed come awy . 21. Nay now they have a good hon made ; What if the Scots should play the jade , And keep awy our King ? War they not mad in all these dangers , To go and trust the King with strangers ? Was ever such a thing ? 22. We ha' nor scrip nor scrole to show ▪ Whether it be our King or no ; And if they should deny an , They 'l make us vight vor'n once more , As well's agenst'n heretovore , How can we else come by'n . 23. We had been better paid 'um down Their vorty hundred thousand pown , And zo a zet 'um gwine , Vor c ham agast avore the goo , The 'l hav' our grown and mony too , C ham sore afeard of mine . 24. Another trick they do devize , The vive and twonty part and size ; And there at every meeting , We pay vor wives and childrens pole , More then they 'l ever yield us whole , 'T is abomination cheating . 25. We can nor eat , nor drink ; nor lye ; We our own wives by and by ; We pay to knaves that couzen ; My dame and I ten children made , But now we do gee off the trade , Vor fear should be a douzen . 26. Then lets to clubs agen and vight , Or let 's take it all out right ; Vor thus they mean to sare , All thick be right , they 'l strip and use , And deal with them as bad as Jews ; All custen voke beware .
VI. On a Butchers Dog that bit a Commanders Mare , that stood to be Knight of a Shire . 1. ALL you that for Parliament Members do stand , For County , Burrough , or City ; Listen now to my song , which is doleful for , and A lamentable ditty . 2. For you must take notice that there was a Dog , Nay a Mastiff-dog ( d' you see ) And if this great Dog were ty'd to a great clog , It had been full happy for we . 3. And eke there was a great Colonel stout , That had been in many a slaughter ; But this Mastiff to eat him was going about , As you shall hear hereafter . 4. You bloudy Malignants , why will you still plot ? 'T will bring you to hanging you know . For if this Dog had done what he did not , How had he been us'd I trow ! 5. But happy was it for sweet Westminster , When they went to make their choice ; That this plot was found out , for why should this ●ur In Elections have any voyce ? 6. For surely this Mastiff , though he was big , And had been lucky at fighting ; Yet he was not qualifi'd worth a fig , And therefore he fell a biting ! 7. But whom do you think ? A thing of great note , And a worthy Commanders Mare ; O what a strange battel had there been fought , Had they gone to fight dog , fight bear ! 8. This Dog was a Leveller in his heart , Or some Tub-preaching Cur ; For honour or greatness he car'd not a fart , And lov'd neither Lord nor Sir : 9. For when the Commander was mounted on high , And got above many a brother , It angred this dog at the guts verily , To see one man above another ; 10. And therefore he run at him with open mouth , But it seems the Dog was but dull , He had as good took a bear by the tooth , As mistook a horse for a bull : 11. But this plot was discover'd in very good time , And strangely , as you may perceive , For the people saw him committing this crime ; And made him his biting leave . 12. And so they were parted without any harm , That now any body seeth , For it seems this Dog that made all this alarm , Did but only shew his teeth . 13. So this Cavalier cur was beaten full sore , And had many a knock on the pate , But they serv'd him aright if they had beat him more , For medling with matters of State . 14. Now heaven look down on our noble Protector , His Commanders and Members eke , And keep him from the teeth of every Elector , That is not able to speak . 15. And hang all such dogs as their honours do hate , Let them clear themselves if they can , For if they be suffered to be in the State , They 'l conspire against horse and man .
VII . The new Knight Errant . 1. OF Gyants and Knights , & their wonderful fights , We have stories enough in Romances ; But I 'll tell you one new , that is strange and yet true , Though t' other are nothing but fancies . 2. A Knight lately made of the Governing trade , Whose name he 'l not have to be known ; Has been trucking with fame , to purchase a name ; For 't is said he had none of his own . 3. He by Fortunes design , should have been a Divine , And a pillar no doubt of the Church ; Whom a Sexton ( God wot ) in the belfry begot , And his Mother did pig in the porch . 4. And next for his breeding , 't was learned hog-feeding , With which he so long did converse , That his manners and feature , was so like their nature , You 'ld scarce know his sweetness from theirs . 5. But observe the device of this Noblemans rise , How he hurried from trade to trade ; For the grains he 'd aspire to the yest ; & then higher , Till at length he a Dray-man was made . 6. Then his dray-horse and he , in the streets we did see , With his hanger , his sling , and his jacket ; Long time he did watch , to meet with his match ; For he 'd ever a mind to the placket . 7. At length he did find , out a Trull to his mind , And Ursula was her name ; O Ursly quoth he , and O Tom then quoth she , And so they began their game . 8. But as soon as they met , O such babes they did get , And bloud-royal in 'um did place : From a swine-herd they came , a she-bear was their Dam ; They were suckled as Romulus was . 9. At last when the rout , with their head did fall out , And the wars thereupon did fall in , He went to the field , with a sword , but no shield , Strong drink was his buckler within : 10. But when he did spy , how they dropt down and die , And did hear the bullets to sing ; His arms he flung down , and run fairly to town , And exchang'd his sword for his sling : 11. Yet he claimed his share , in such honours as were Belonging to nobler spirits ; That ventur'd their lives , while this Buffon survives , To receive the reward of their merits . 12. When the wars were all done , he his fighting begun , And would needs shew his valour in peace ; Then his fury he flings , at poor conquer'd things , And frets like a hog in his grease ; 13. For his first feat of all , on a Wit he did fall , A wit as some say , and some not ; Because he 'd an art , to rhithm on the quart , But never did care for the pot ; 14. And next on the cocks , he fell like an Ox , And took them and their Masters together ; But the combs and the spurs , kept himself & his Sirs , Who are to have both or neither . 15. The cause of his spite , was because they would fight , And , because he durst not , he did take-on ; And said they were fit , for the pot , not the pit , And would serve to be eaten with bacon . 16. But flesh'd with these spoyles , the next of his toyles , Was to fall with wild-beasts by the ears , To the Bear-ward he goeth , & then opened his mouth ; And said , oh ! are you there with your bears . 17. Our stories are dull , of a cock and a bull , But such was his valour and care : Since he bears the bell , the tales that we tell , Must be of a cock and a bare . 18. The crime of the bares was , they were Caveliers , And had formerly fought for the King ; And pull'd by the Burrs , the round-headed Currs , That they made both their ears to ring . 19. Our successour of Kings , like blind fortune , flings Upon him both honour and store : Who has as much right , to make Tom a Knight , As Tom has desert , and no more . 20. But Fortune that whore , still attended this Brewer , And did all his atchievements reward ; And blindly did fling , on this lubberly thing , More honour , and made him a Lord . 21. Now he walks with his spurs , and a couple of curs At his heels , which he calls Squires : So when honour is thrown on the head of a clown ; 'T is by Parasites held up , and Lyars . 22. The rest of his pranks , will merit new thanks , With his death , if we did but know it ; But we 'l leave him and it , to a time and place fit , And Greg. shall be funeral Poet.
VIII . The New Mountebank .

Written in 1643.

IF any body politick , Of plenty or ease be very sick , There 's a Physician come to Town , Of far fetcht fame and high renown ; Though call'd a Mountebank , 't is meant , Both words being French , a Parliament ; Who from Geneva and Amsterdam , From Germany and Scotland came ; Now lies in London ; but the place , If men say true , is in his face . His Scaffold stands on Tower-hill , When he on Strafford try'd his skill ; Off went his head , you 'l think him slain ; But straight 't was voted on again . Diurnals are his weekly-bills , Which speak how many he cures or kills : But of the Errata we 'l advise , For cure read kill , for truth read lies . If any Traytor be diseased with a sore-neck , and would be eased ; There is a pill , they call a Vote , Take it ex tempore it shall do 't . If any conscience be to strict , Here 's several p 〈…〉 from Lectures pickt , Which swallowed down will stretch it full , As far as 't is from this to Hull . Is any by Religion bound , Or Law , and would be looser found ; Here 's a Glister which we call His priviledge o'r-topping all . Is any money left , or plate , Or goods ? bring 't in at any rate : He 'l melt three shillings into one , And in a minute leave you none . Here 's powder to inspire the lungs , Here 's water that unties your tongues ; Spight of the Law , 't will set you free , To speak treason only lispingly . Here 's Leeches , which if well apply'd , And fed , will stick close to your fide , Till your superfluous bloud decay , Then they 'l break and drop away . But here 's a soveraign Antidote , Be sure our Soveraign never know 't ; Apply it as the Doctour pleases , 'T will cure all wounds and all diseases . A drug none but himself e're saw , 'T is call'd a Fundamental Law : Here 's Glasses to delude your sight , Dark Lanthorns here , here bastard light . This if you conquer trebbles the men , If loose a hundred , seems but ten . Here 's Opium to lull asleep , And here lie dangerous plots in steep . Here stands the safety of the City , There hangs the invisible Committee . Plundring's the new Philosophers stone , Turns war to Gold , and Gold to 〈…〉 e : And here 's an Ordinance that shall , At one full shot enrich you all . He 's skilled in the Mathematicks , And in his circle can do tricks , By raising spirits , that can smell Plots that are hatcht as deep as hell : Which ever to themselves are known , The Devil 's ever kind to his own . All this he gratis doth , and saith , He 'l only take the Publick Faith , Flock to him then make no delay , The next fair wind he must away ,
IX . The Saints Encouragement .

Written in 1643.

FIght on brave Souldiers for the cause , Fear not the Caveliers ; Their threatnings are as senseless , as Our Jealousies and fears . 'T is you must perfect this great work , And all Malignants slay , You must bring back the King again The clean contrary way . 'T is for Religion that you fight , And for the Kingdoms good , By robbing Churches , plundring men ; And shedding guiltless blood . Down with the Orthodoxal train , All Loyal Subjects slay ; When these are gone , we shall be blest , The clean contrary way . When Charle● we 've bankrupt made like us , Of Crown and power bereft him ; And all his loyal subjects slain , And none but Rebels left him . When we 've beggar'd all the Land , And sent our Truncks away ; We 'l make him then a glorious Prince , The clean contrary way . 'T is to preserve his Majesty , That we against him fight , Nor are we ever beaten back , Because our cause is right ; If any make a scruple on 't , Out Declarations say , Who fight for us , fight for the King , The clean contrary way . At Keynton , Branford , Plymmouth , York , And divers places more ; What victories we Saints obtain'd , The like ne'r seen before ! How often we Prince Rupert kill'd , And bravely won the day , The wicked Caveliers did run The clean contrary way . The true Religion we maintain , The Kingdomes peace , and plenty ; The priviledge of Parliament Not known to one of twenty : The ancient Fundamental Laws , And teach men to obey ; Their Lawful Soveraign , and all these , The clean contrary way . We subjects Liberties preserve , By prisonment and plunder , And do inrich our selves and state By keeping the wicked under . We must preserve Mecannicks now , To Lecturize and pray ; By them the Gospel is advanc'd , The clean contrary way . And though the King be much misled By that malignant crew ; He 'l find us honest , and at last , Give all of us our due . For we do wisely plot , and plot , Rebellion to destroy , He sees we stand for peace and truth , The clean contrary way . The publick faith shall save our souls , And good out-works together ; And ships shall save our lives , that stay Only for wind and weather . But when our faith and works fall down , And all our hopes decay , Our Acts will bear us up to heaven , The clean contrary way .
X.

Written in 1648.

COme let us be merry , Drink Claret and Sherry , And cast away care and sorrow ; He 's a fool that takes thought for to morrow . Why should we be droopers , To save it for Troopers . Let 's spend our own , And when all is gone , That they can have none , Then the Roundheads and Cavies agree . 2. Then fall to your drinking , And leave of this shrinking ; Let Square-heads and Round-heads go quarrel , We have no other foe but the barrel ; These cares and disasters , Shall ne'r be our Masters : English and Scot , Doth both love a pot , Though they say they do not , Here the Roundheads and Cavies agree . 3. A man that is armed With liquor is charmed , And proof against strength and cunning ; He scorns the base humour of running . Our ●rains are the quicker , When season'd with liquor , Let 's drink and sing ▪ Here 's a health to our King , And I wish in this thing Both the Roundheads and Cavies agree . 4. A pox of this fighting ! I take no delighting , In killing of men and plunder ; A Gun affrights me like a thunder . If we can Live quiet , With good drink and diet , We wont come nigh , Where the bullets do fly : In fearing to die , Both the Roundheads and Cavies agree . 5. Twixt Square-head and Round-head The Land is confounded , They care not for fight or battle , But to plunder our goods and cattle . When ere they come to us , Their chiefest hate , Is at our Estate , And in sharing of that , Both the Roundheads and Cavies agree . 6. In swearing and lying , In cowardly flying , In whering , in cheating , in stealing , They agree ; in all damnable dealing . He 's a fool and a widgeon , That thinks they 've Religion , For Law and right , Are o're rul'd by might ; But when they should fight , Then the Roundheads and Cavies agree ▪ 7. Then while we have treasure , Let 's spare for no pleasure : He 's a fool that has wealth and won't spend it , But keeps it for Troopers to end it . When we 've nothing to leave 'um : Then we shall deceive 'um , If all would be Of such humours as we , We should suddenly see Both the Roundheads and Cavies agree .
XI . The Scots Curanto .

Written in 1645.

COme , come away to the English wars ; A fig for our Hills and Valleys , 'T was we did begin , and will lengthen their jarrs ; We 'l gain by their loss and follyes ; Let the Nations By invasions ▪ Break through our barrs ; They can get little good by their salleys . 2. Though Irish and English entred be , The State is become our Debtor : Let them have our Land , if their own may be free , And the Scot will at length be a getter . If they crave it , Let them have it , What care we ? We would fain change our Land for a better . 3. Long have we longed for the English Land , But we 're hindred still by disasters ; But now is their time , when they can't withstand , But are their own Countreys wasters . If we venter , We may enter By command , And at last we shall grow to be Masters . 4. When at the first we began to rebel , Though they did not before regard us ; How the name of a Scot did the English quell , Which formerly have out-dar'd us . For our coming And returning , They pay'd us well , And royally did reward us . 5. The better to bring our ends about , We must plead for a Reformation ; And tickle the minds of the giddy-brain'd rout , With the hopes of an innovation . They will love us , And approve us , Without doubt , If we bring in an alteration . 6. Down with the Bishops and their train , The Surplice , and Common-prayers , Then will we not have a King remain , But we 'l be the Realms surveyers : So by little , And a little We shall gain All the Kingdom without gain-sayers . 7. And when at the last we have conquer'd the King , And beaten away the Caveliers ; The Parliament next must the same ditty sing , And thus we will set the Realm by the ears . By their jarring , And their warring We will bring , Their estates to be ours , which they think to be theirs . 8. And thus when among us the Kingdom is shar'd , And the people are all made beggars like we ; A Scot will be as good as an English Leard ; O! what an unity this will be As we gain it , We 'l retain it By the sweard , And the English shall say , bonny blew cap for me .
XII .

Written in 1643.

THough Oxford be yielded , & Reading be taken , I 'll put in for quarter at thy Maiden-head : There while I 'm insconsed , my Standards unshaken , Lie thou in my arms , and I in thy bed . Let the young z●lots march with their wenches , Mounting their tools to edifie trenches , While thou and I do make it our pleasure , To dig in thy Mine for the purest Treasure , Where no body else shall plunder but I. And when we together in battail do joyn , We scorn to wear arms but what are our own ; Strike thou at my body , and I 'll thrust at thine , By nakedness best the truth is made known . Cannons may roar , and bullets keep flying , While we are in Battail , we never fear dying . Isaac and 's wenches are busie a digging , But all our delight is in japping and jigging , And no body else shall plunder but I. And when at the last our bodies are weary , We 'l straight to the Taverns our strength to recruit ; Where , when we 've refresht our hearts with Canary , We shall be the fitter again to go to 't . We 'll tipple and drink untill we do stagger , For then is the time for Souldiers to swagger . Thus night and day we 'l thump it and knock it , And when we 've no money then look to your pocket , For no body else shall plunder but I.
XIII . A New Ballad . 1. A Ballad , a Ballad , a new one and true , And such are seldom seen ; He that wont write Ballads , and sing 'um too , Has neither Wit nor Spleen : For a man may be furnished with so much matter , That he need not lie , or rail , or flatter ; 'T will run from his tongue as easie as water , And as swiftly , though not so clean . 2. To see how the times are twirled about , Would make a dog laugh , 't is true ; But to see those turn with 'um , that had the Rumpgout , Would make a cat to spew . Those Knaves that have lived upon sequestration , And sucked the bloud of the best of the Nation , Are all for the King by a new translation ; He that won't believe 't is a Jew . 3. The poor Caveliers thought all was their own , And now was their time to sway ; But friends they have few , and money they 've none , And so they mistook their way . When they seek for preferments the Rebels do rout 'um . And having no money , they must go without 'um , The Courtiers do carry such stomachs about 'um : They speak no English but PAY : 4. And those very rebels that hated the King , And no such office allow ; By the help of their boldness , and one other thing , Are brought to the King to bow : And there both pardons , and honours they have , with which they think , they 're secure and brave , But the title of Knight , on the back of a Knave , 〈…〉 's like a saddle upon a sow . 5. Those men are but fools as matters now stand , That would not be Rebels and Traytors , To grow rich and rant o'r the best of the land , And tread on the poor Cinque Quaters ; To do what they list , and none dare complain , To rise from a cart and drive Charles his wain , And for this be made Lords and Knights in grain ; O 't is sweet to ambitious natures ! 6. If the times turn about 't is but to comply , And make a formal submission ; And with every new power to live and die , Then they are in a safe condition : For none are condemned but those that are dead , Nor must be secur'd , but those that are fled , And none but the poor rogues sequestred : The great ones buy remission . 7. The Fortieth part of their riches , will Secure t'other thirty nine ; And so they will keep above us still ; But hang 't , we 'l ne'r repine . The Devil does into their natures creep , That they can no more from their villany keep , Then a Wolfe broke loose , can from killing of sheep , Or a Poet refrain from wine . 8. Now Heaven preserve our Merciful King , And continue his grace and pity , And may his prosperity be like a spring ; And stream from him to the City ! May James and George , those Dukes of renown , Be the two supporters of Englands Crown ! And may all honest men enjoy what 's their own ! And so I conclude my ditty .
XIV . The Holy Pedler . 1. FRom a Forraign shore I am not come to store , Your Shops with rare devices : No drugs do I bring from the Indian King ; No Peacocks , Apes , nor Spices : Such wares I do show , As in England do grow , And are for the good of the Nation ; Let no body fear To deal in my ware , For Sacriledge now 's in fashion . 2. I the Pedler am , That came from Amsterdam , With a pack of new Religions ; I did every one fit , According to 's wit , From the Tub to Mahomets pigeons . Great trading I found , For my spiritual ground , Wherein every man was a medler ; I made people decline , The learned Divine , And then they bought Heaven of the Pedler . 3. First Surplices I took , Next the Common-prayer-book , And made all those Papists that us'd 'um ; Then the Bishops and Deans , I strip'd of their means , And gave it to those that abus'd 'um . The Clergy-men next , I withdrew from their Text , And set up the gifted brother : Thus Religion I made , But a matter of trade , And I car'd nor for one or t'other . 4. Then Tythes I fell upon , And those I quickly won ; 'T was prophane in the Clergy to take 'um ; But they serv'd for the Lay , Till I sold them away , And so did Religious make 'um ; But now come away To the Pedler I pray ; I scorn to rob or cozen ; If Churches you lack , Come away to my pack , Here 's thirteen to the dozen . 5. Church Militants they be , For now we do see , They have fought so long with each other ; The Rump's Churches threw down , Those that stood for the Crown , And sold them to one another . Then come you factious crue , Here 's a bargain now for you , With the spoils of the Church you may revel : Now pull down the bells , And then hang up your selves , And so give his due to the Devil .
XV. A Serious Ballade .

written in 1645.

I Love my King and Countrey well , Religion and the Laws , Which I 'm mad at the heart that e're we did sell , To buy the good Old Cause . These unnatural wars , And brotherly jars , Are no delight or joy to me ; But it is my desire , That the wars should expire , And the King and his Realms agree . 2. I never yet did take up arms , And yet I dare to dye ; But I 'll not be seduc'd by phanatical charms , Till I know a Reason why . Why the King and the State , Should fall to debate , I ne'r could yet a reason see , But I find many one , Why the wars should be done , And the King and his Realms agree . 3. I love the King and the Parliament , But I love them both together ; And when they by division asunder are rent , I know 't is good for neither : Which so e'r of those Be victorious , I 'm sure for us no good 't will be ; For our plagues will encrease , Unless we have peace , And the King and his Realms agree . 4. The King without them can't long stand , Nor they without the King ; 'T is they must advise , and 't is he must command , For their power from his must spring . 'T is a comfortless sway , Where none will obey ; If the King han't's right , which way shall we ? They may Vote , and make Laws , But no good they will cause , Till the King and his Realms agree . 5. A pure Religion I would have , Not mixt with humane wit ; And I cannot endure that each ignorant knave , Should dare to meddle with it . The tricks of the Law , I would faign withdraw , That it may be alike to each degree . And I faign would have such , As do meddle so much , With the King and the Church agree . 6. We have pray'd and pay'd that the wars might cease , And we be free men made : I would fight , if my fighting would bring any peace , But war is become a trade . Our servants did ride with swords by their side , And made their Masters foot-men be ; But we will be no more slaves , To the beggars and knaves , Now the King and the Realms do agree .
XVI . An Ode .

Written in 1643.

WHat 's this that shrouds , WIn these Opacous clouds , The glorious face of heav'n , and dims our light ? What must we ever lye Mantled in dark stupidity ? Still groveling in a daily night ? And shall we have no more the sun allow'd ? Why , does the Sun grow dim ? or do the stars grow proud ? 2. Why should false zeal Thus scorch our common-weal , And make us slight bright Phaebus purer fires ? Why do these plannets run ? They would , but cannot be the Sun : Yet every saucy flame aspires . Though they 've no reason to affect the same , Since they have nought of fire , but the meer rage and name ▪ 3. Now since our Sun Has left this Horizon ; Can all the stars though by united pow'r , Undark the night , Or equal him in light ? And yet they blaze to make him lowre . That star that looks more red than others are , Is a prodigious Comet , and a blazing-star . 4. The World 's undone , When stars oppose the Sun , And make him change his constant course to rest ; His foaming Steeds , Flying those daring deeds , I th' stables of the North or West , Whence we may fear he 'l never more return , To light & warm us , with his rayes , but all to burn , 5. Heav'n made them all , Yet not Anarchical ; But in degrees and orders they are set ; Should they all be In a grand Committe , In heavens painted chamber ; yet Sol would out shine them : guide me Phaebus ray , And let those Lanthorns keep their borrowed light away . 6. Let 's not admire This new phantastick fire , That our vain eyes deceives and us misleads : Those Bears we see That would our Lyons be , Want tails , and will want heads . The world will soon into destruction run , When bold blind Phaetons guide the chariot of the sun ▪
XVII . Palinode . 1. NO more , no more of this , I vow 'T is time to leave this fooling now , Which few but fools call Wit ; There was a time when I begun , And now 't is time I should have done , And meddle no more with it . He Physick's use doth quite mistake , That Physick takes for Physick's sake . 2. My heat of youth , and love and pride , Did swell me with their strong spring-tyde , Inspir'd my brain and blood , And made me then converse with toyes , Which are call'd Muses by the boyes , And dabble in their flood . I was perswaded in those dayes , There was no crown like love and bayes . 3. But now my youth and pride are gone , And age and cares come creeping on , And business checks my love ; What need I take a needless toyle , To spend my labour , time and oyl , Since no design can move . For now the cause is ta'n away , What reason is t th' effect should stay ? 4. 'T is but a folly now for me , To spend my time and industry , About such useless wit ; For when I think I have done well , I see men laugh , but cannot tell , Where 't be at me , or it . Great madness 't is to be a drudge , When those that cannot write , dare judge . 5. Besides the danger that ensu'th , To him that speaks , or writes the truth , The proemium is so small , To be called Poet , and wear bayes , And Factor turn of Songs and Playes , This it no wit at all . Wit only good to sport and sing , 's a needless and an endless thing . 6. Give me the Wit that can't speak sense , Nor read it , but in 's own defence , Ne'r learn'd but of his Grannum , He that can buy , and sell , and cheat , May quickly make a shift to get , His thousand pound per annum . And purchase without much ado , The Poems and the Poet too .
XVIII . A Ballad . OLd England is now a brave Barbary made , And every one has an ambition to ride her : K. Charles was a horseman that long us'd the trade , But he rode in a snaffle , and that could not guide her . Then the hungry Scot comes with spur and with switch , And would teach her to run a Geneva career ; His Grooms were all Puritan , Traytor , and witch ; But she soon threw them down , with their pedlery geer . The long Parliament next came all to the block , And they this untamable Palfry would ride ; But she would not bear all that numerous flock ; At which they were fain themselves to divide . Jack Presbyter first gets the Steed by the head , While the reverend Bishops had hold of the bridle : Jack said through the nose , they their flocks did not feed , But sate still on the beast , and grew aged and idle : And then comes the Rout with broomsticks inspir'd , And pull'd down their Graces , their sleeves , and their train , And sets up sir Jack , who the beast quickly tyr'd , With a journey to Scotland ; & thence back again . Jack rode in a dublet , with a yoke of prick-ears , A cursed splay-mouth , and a Covenant-spur , Rides switching and spurring with jealousies and fears , Till the poor famish'd beast was not able to stir . Next came th' Independant a dev'lish designer , And got himself call'd by a holier name ; Makes Jack to unhorse , for he was diviner , And would make her travel as far 's Amsterdam : But Nol a rank rider gets first in the saddle , And made her show tricks , and curvate and rebound ; She quickly perceiv'd that he rode widdle , waddle , And like his Coach-horses threw his Highness to ground . Then Dick , being ●ame , rode holding by the pummel , Not having the wit to get hold of the rein ; But the Jade did so snort at the sight of a Cromwel , That poor Dick and his kindred turn'd foot-men again ▪ Next Fl●etwood and Vane , with their Rascally pack , Would every one put their feet in the stirrup ; But they pull ' the saddle quite off of her back , And were all got under her before they were up . At last the King mounts her , and then she stood still , As his Bucephalus , proud of this Rider ; She cheerfully yields to his power and skill , Who is careful to feed her , and skilful to guide her .
EPISTLES .
I. To C. C. Esquire . INspir'd with love and kindled by the flame , Which from your eye and conversation came , I proceed Versifier , and can't chuse , Since you are both my Patron and my Muse . Whose fair example makes us know and do ; You make us Poets , and you feed us too . And though where ere you are is Helicon ; Since all the Muses proudly wait upon . Your parts and person too ; while we sit here , And like Baals Priests our flesh do cut and tear . Yet , for our lives , can't make our baggage Muse , Lend us a lift , or one rich thought-infuse ; Or be as much as midwife to a quibble , But leave us to our selves with pangs to scribble What , were we wise , we might well blush to view , While we 're invoking them , they 're courting you . Yet I conceive ( and won't my notion smother ) You and your house contribute to each other . 〈…〉 hills , such dales , such plains , such rocks , such springs , And such a confluence of all such things As raise and gratifie the Muses so , That in one Night I was created PO ▪ That 's half a Poet , I can't reach to ET , Because I 'm not a perfect Poet yet ; And I despair perfection to attain , Unless I 'm sent to school to you to gain . Alas ! Sir , London is no place for verse ; Ingenious harmless thoughts , polite and tearse : Our Age admits not , we are wrap'd in smoke ; And sin , and business , which the Muses choke . Those things in which true poesie takes pleasure , We here do want ; tranquillity and leasure : Yet we have wits , and some that for wits go , Some real ones , and some that would be so ; But 't is ill-natured wit , and such as still , To th' subject or the object worketh ill . A Wit to cheat , to ruine , to betray ; Which renders useless , what we do or say : This wit will not bear verse , some things we have ; Who in their out-side do seem brisk and brave : And are as gaudy as old Kelles purse ; But full as empty too . And here 's our curse ; Few men discern the difference 'twixt Wit That 's sterling , and that 's not , but looks like it . Inrich us with your presence , make us know How much the Nation does to Derby owe. But if your business will not be withstood , Do what you can , since you can't what you wou'd . Those lovely sportings of your frolick Muse , Wherewith you biest me , send me to peruse ; And out of gratitude , I 'll send you mine ; They 'l rub your vertues , and so make them shine : Your charity and patience will in them , Find work t'acquit , what justice must condemn . And if you please , send one propitious line , To dignifie these worthless toyes of mine : The Reader charm'd by yours , may be so bold , To read o'r mine , which else he 'ld not behold ; And then in Spite of envy , pride , or lying , Must say h' ha● met with something worth the buying .
II. The Answer . WHen in this dirty corner of the World , Where all the rubbish of the rest is hurl'd Both men , and manners ; this abandon'd place , Where scarce the Sun dares shew his radiant face ; I met thy lines , they made me wondring stand , At thy unknown , and yet the friendly hand : Straight through the Air m' imagination flew To ev'ry Region I had seen , or knew ; And kindly blest ( at her returning home ) My greedy ear , with the glad name of Brome ; Then I reproach't my self for my suspence ; And mourn'd my own want of intelligence , That could not know thy celebrated Muse , ( Though mask't with all the art , that art can use ) At the first sight , which to the dullest eyes , No names conceal'd , nor habit can disguise . For who ( ingenious friend ) but only thee , ( Who art the soul of wit , and courtesie ) Writes in so pure , an unaffected strain , As shews wits ornament , is to be plain ; Or would caress a man condemn'd ●o lie Buried from all humane society . 'Mongst brutes and bandogs in a Lernean fen , Whose Natives have nor souls , nor shape of men ? How could thy Muse , that in her noble flight , The boading Raven cuff't ; and in his height Of untam'd power , and unbounded place , Durst mate the haughty Tyrant to his face ; Deign an inglorious stoop , and from the skie , Fall down to prey on such a worm as I ? Her seeing ( sure ) my state , made her relent , And try to charm me from my banishment ; Nor has her charitable purpose fail'd , For when I first beheld her face unvail'd ; I kist the paper , as an act of grace , Sent to retrive me from this wretched place , And doubted not to go abroad agen To see the world , and to converse with men : But when I taste the dainties of the Flood , ( Ravish't from Neptunes table for my food ) The Lucrine Lake's plump Oysters I despise , With all the other Roman luxuries : And , wanton grown , contemn the famous Breed Of Sheep and Oxen , which these mountains feed . Then as a Snake , benumn'd and fit t' expire , If laid before the comfortable fire , Begins to stir , and feels her vitals beat Their healthful motion , at the quickning heat : So my poor muse , that was half starv'd before , On these bleak clifts ; nor thought of writing more . Warm'd by thy bounty , now can hiss and spring ; And ( 't is believ'd by some ) will shortly sting : So warm she 's grown , and without things like these , Minerva must , as well as Venus freeze . Thus from a High-lander I straight commence Poet , by vertue of thine influence ; That with one Ray , can clods , and stones inspire , And make them pant , and breath poetick fire : And thus I am thy creature prov'd , who name And fashion take from thy indulgent flame . What should I send thee then , that may befit A grateful heart , for such a benefit ; Or how proclaim , with a poetick grace , What thou hast made me from the thing I was ; When all I writ , is artless , forc't , and dull ; And mine as empty as thy fancy full ? All our conceipts , alas ! are flat , and stale , And our inventions muddy , as our Ale : No friends , no visiters , no company , But such , as I still pray , I may not see : Such craggy , rough-hewn rogues , as do not fit ; Sharpen and set , but blunt the edge of wit ; Any of which ( and fear has a quick eye ) If through a perspective I chance to spye , Though a mile off , I take th' alarm and run , As if I saw the Devil , or a Dun. And in the Neighbouring rocks take sanctuary , Praying the Hills to fall , and cover me ; So that my solace lies amongst my grounds , And my best company's my Horse and Hounds . Judge then ( my friend ) how far I am unfit To traffick with thee , in the trade of Wit , How Bankrupt I am grown of all commerce , Who have all number lost , and air of verse . But if I could in living song set forth , Thy Muses glory , and thine own true worth , I then would sing an Ode , that should not shame The writers purpose ; nor the Subjects name : Yet , what a grateful heart , and such a one , As ( by thy virtues , ) thou hast made thine own , Can poorly pay , accept for what is due , Which if it be not Rhythm , I 'll swear 't is true . C. Cotton .
III. To his University Friend . Dear Captain , WAnt , the great Master of three greater things , Art , Strength , and Boldness , gives this letter wings , To kis ( that is , salute ) you and say A. B. To his renowned Captain S. P. D. And to request three greater things then those , Things that beget good verse , and Stubborn prose . The first is drink , which you did promise , would Inform the brain ; as well as warm the bloud : Drink that's as pow'rful and strong as Hector , And as inspiring as the old Poets Nectar , That dares confront the legislative Sack , And lends more Greek then your grave Patriarch ; But you may see here 's none ; for if that I , Had been well wet , these had not been so dry . The next is money ; which you said should be Paid , and it may be 't was , but not to me . Why ( Friend ) d' you think a man as big about As I , can live on promises , without Good drink or money ? how 'll good Sack be had ? And who can live without Sack , or with bad ? What e'r your Academicks talk or teach , Mind what they do , they mind not what they preach : In publick they may rail at Pope and Turk , And at the layeties avarice have a Firk ; And say their aim is all to save the soul ; But that Soul's money , which does all controul : Which I do only by the want on 't know , But when it comes thou 'lt see 't will wonders do . The third is wit , which you affirmed here , Was in your Mines , and digg'd up every where ; Jests , Verses , Tales , Puns , Satyrs , Quibbles too , And certain Bristoll words that like wit show : But none on 't comes as yet , and all I see , Is , you 've the wit to keep it all from me ▪ 'T is troublesome and costly to have much ; And if you had it , you would never grutch Your needy Friend a little ; prithee do Send me the last , and I 'll get t'other two .
IV. The Answer . YOur Letter found us at good Clarret , Such as you should be at , or are at . The lines were good ; but that I wonder As much as at a bladders thunder ; That you who are not us'd to preach , That never to that art could reach ; Your letter should so well divide , Into the first , third , second head . Prithee tell me , just then came ye , Before you writ , from your C. Or hadst thou heard some Independent ; First it , and thirdly it , till no end on 't ? Thirdly from you is as ill sounded , As Mass delivered by a roundhead : Or if your old Recorder should Try to speak Latine that is good . Drink the first head , you wisely laid ; Drink alwaies gets into the head : Drink in plain filly troth you had , As strong as hop , or furnace made , Such as our Sophisters do take , When they old Latine jests would break ; Such as if your Clients drink , Of law suits they would never think : Such as with Beef , and Mutton were Enough to make you Knight o' th' shire : But that it comes not you may thank Your Thames which swell'd above its bank . I think the London Brewers plot To encrease the Thames , that we should not , By our sublime and noble Beer , Shame all their puddle liquor there . So great the floud here , that the people Were wondrous fraid for your Pauls-steeple ; Lest we should hear next Almanack , How London Bridge did fall or shake : Lest it Westminster-hall should drown , And then no place should there be found , Where men their gold and silver may Upon the Lawyers throw away . But stay , it may be all is lost , Broke by the ice , or stop'd by frost . Perchance the Boat-men let it run , Which either of us would have done : It may be they drew out the Vessel , To cheer themselves at merry W●ssail : Perchance the Barrel in the way Did fall upon an holiday , Upon a Revel or a Wedding ; Or else , it may be , it call'd at Reading , Where the bold rout did rant of late , As if they drunk such beer as that : But if at last it there arrive , Drink it out while 't is alive ; Let not old Gossips of it ▪ tast , When they do praise their husbands last ; When they tell stories , and do cry For their poor babe that last did dye : Nor it the Countrey Clients give , When thou dost fees from them receive ; But make a fire and send about , For all thy Friends the merry rout : Fetch out the bowl and drink it up , And think on him that fill'd the cup. Your next is money , which I promise , Full fifty pounds alas the sum is , That too shall quickly follow , if It can be rais ' from Strong or Tiffe . Pray pray that each moneth we may choose New Members for the commons house . Pray that our Act may last all year , That we may sooner spend our Beer . Pray that the Scholars may drink faster , And larger cups then they did last year . Pray heav'n to take away th' Excise , Pray I say with weeping eyes : Pray our malt grow good and cheap , And then of money expect an heap . For Poems ; Tom desires me tell ye , He minds not now his feet , but belly : He must for Pulpit now prepare , Or make bills for Apothecar — Y'and leave off these barren toyes Which feed not , only make a noyse : Yet he would fain from you receive , What your more happy Muse did give , Which made Protectors love to hear , Though themselves wounded by them were Songs , which are play'd on every tongue , And make a Christmas when they 're sung . Thus wishing you much mirth and wit , As the Lord Mayor doth speak and spit . Wishing and praying till I 'm weary , That you may drink the best Canary : And that you may have Clients many , And talk in Guild-hall wise as any ; That the rich Londoners may fall out , And go to Law till money 's all out ; That every Citizen hate his Neighbour , As his wife doth Pope and Tyber : That the grave Alderman love no man , More then they did the Prayer-Common : That Quarrels long may thence be spun About a Whistle or a Spoon : That th' itch of law may infect all London , Till you are rich , and they are undone : That you may keep your good Dame yet here , Or when she dies may find a better : That two hours prayer and long Sermon , you may not hear above each term one : And then your pew may be so easie , That you may sleep when e'r it please ye : That when from Tavern late you come , You miss the watch returning home ; Or if you meet th' unmanner'd rabble , You may not out-wit the Constable .
V. To T. S. THy Letter Friend , had the hard fate , To find me with a busie pate , Which still continues , and will do , Till you meet me , or I meet you : Than prithee come thy waies to me , Or else I vow i 'll come to thee . So well I love thee that I doat , And make this shameless ▪ Letter show 't : And it is more then I can do , To live in love and business too . P. B. and G. I had the luck To see , and drink a little pluck . Which they both said , they 'ld do agen , But broke their words like honest men , And shew'd themselves as errant lyars , As th' were 'prentice to the Tryers . But will they e'r preach truth d' you think , Who are so false in point of drink ? Since that some persons got some places , Deceit and lying have been graces . I 'm also told P. P. was here , But ne'r came at me though so neer . Which I don't take amiss , for I Suppose his love 's not wont to lie On the Male Sex , but by his Vote , Breeches should vail to petticoat . The drink that came from honest Tim , Had two ill properties , like him : 'T was long a coming , but alas ! In going swift as lightning 't was : There 's none of 't left , you may conclude , By this , which is both flat and rude : Nor drink I Sack ; and so this time , Instead of wit , you 've only rythme . Wit is scarce and wanting here With us , as money with you there . Our Prince of Poets , who once writ , What all admir'd , for art and wit , Did lately stoop his Muse , and make her To write a Ballad of a Quaker : Which I have sent thee here withall , To see how wits do rise and fall : Just as our drink is bad or good , So verse is writ , so understood ; But oh the money ( Tom ) the money ! As strong as Sampson , sweet as honey ; How long ! how long it is a coming ! Such reckoning , such receipts , such summing , Belong to 't , I shall choak I think , Before 't is melted into drink ! Those things you 'l have me pray for , I Can't find in our Church-Liturgie . To you therefore I make my suit , That you will set the boyes to do 't ; For I am told the Directory , And your new prayers made ex-tempore , Are all for money very fit , Because they 're only made for it . I like thee that apply'st thy parts , To preaching and such thriving arts , I prethee practise physick too ; For if one wont , yet both will do . A handsome person with neat band , Small cuffs , white gloves , smooth tongue and hand ; If both a Doctour and a Priest , What Lady 's able to resist ? You may talk bawdy freely then , Before coy women and old men : And be of no Religion too , Yet profess all as others do . While the poor Poet tugs for wit , To make men laugh at him and it : And nothing gets by all his pain , But censures various and vain . From such as say they Judges are , And yet did never plead at bar : Undo their malice that condemn , Let them write while we laugh at them . A Poem I have sent thee here , That dies if thou shouldst be severe : And cause I have none worth sending down , I 've bought one cost me half a crown : And Dick Brome's Playes , which good must be , Because they were approv'd by thee : All which I hope will bring me back What all so Love , and I so lack . When my glass Beads to India come , They 'l bring me Pearls and Diamonds home : And thou wilt like the powers above , Return a blessing for a Dove .
VI. The Answer . MY Friend , in troth , I 'm glad to hear , That noise of Clients fills thy ear ; Be sure let them not soon agree , Before thou art well greas'd with fec . If thou wantest coyn , the Cockneys Guild-hall , Or Westminster will to thee yield all : Prithee sleece each City Cox-comb , When they for law to th' Hall in flocks come : Make them pawn their garments wedding ; Their Cup-boards , Hangings , and their bedding ; That when another Parliament Shall borrow for the good intent Of zeal , upon the faith call'd publick ; They may be poor and mangie Job-like : That when again the Pulpit clawes Them to send plate into the Cause , Their spoons , and rings to th' Hall of Grocers , Their very wives may cry out no Sirs . But why dost bid me come to thee ? I have no term there , nor no fee ; What should a Scholar do at London , But to spend money , and be undone ? When here with us a whole daies expence , Will not swell up beyond one six pence : When we can play , and laugh , and drink , And still the money slowly shrink ; When we here talk o' th' State as boldly , As ever the Mercurius told lye . When we of policy are still chattering , ( All which , 't is true , we owe to Mat. Wren ) When we know all the Pretty sputher , Betwixt the one house and the other : When we can over one full flagon , Relieve or plunder Coppen-hagen : When we do know what is , what not is , Related in the Hall , where Scottish Rags , once call'd colours , still remain ; Tell me what profit 't is , or gain , For me to take such useless pain , To come and hear all there again . But yet ( remember now I promise , And will perform as sure as Rome is . ) Near Easter term , like arrow swift , I Will ride up to thee , miles full fifty . ‛ Shalt see me come on Oxford beast , Which shall have one good leg at least ; Such a doughty horse , upon Whose nose more then its legs shall run : So thin a Creature that I 've tride it , When its Master did bestride it : I plainly through his belly spy'd The boot and leg on th' other side : Next this , I 'll get coat , boots , and spurs , And then Sir quickly I am yours : I 'll come unless ( which happen may ) Gall'd Buttocks stop me on the way . Whether his ends be good or sinister , G. now from head to foot 's a Minister : My judgement is he is turn'd Divine , Only to have therewith to buy wine : He came home with each empty pocket , That th' one could not the other mock at : What ever others do I 'll swear Safely , he us'd no Symonie there : He swears since He 's a Countrey Parson , That he finds coming worldly cares on : Sayes , he believes since he has been there , You Lawyers do not only sin there ; But that in Knavery White-Hall-gate , Out-does all 'twixt Lud and Algate . Our Friend P. is by this at Paris ; Or if not there , he very near is : God send him home whole wind and limb , And keep his nose sound to the brim . Some rogues say , Tim provides for one day , To wit , the Sabbath or the Sunday : That at that time he alwaies is sick , Enough to stay at home and Physick . The Poet I confess doth stoop here , From what is writ i' th' hill of Cowper : But for new bayes what need care D. Who so long since did bravely win 'um : Should such proud Spirits alwaies do good , What they perform'd would then be too good . Thou next would'st have me turn Divine , And Doctor too , indeed 't is fine , Physick and preaching ill agree , There is but one Religio Medici . Paul and every other 'postle , ( As the Scripture doth to us tell ) That had the gift of healing , did Not cure the belly , heart or head , By Herbs , or Potions , Purge or Treacle ▪ But by a plain down-right miracle . I never heard that learned Moses , Whom God himself for Prophet chose his , In Egypt was Physician , though there He kill'd as many men , as if he were . How pretty I should shew I'faith , ( As in his Sums Aquinas saith ) With hour-glass in one fist , and With Urinal in the other hand : To have my Pothecary say , Such a Ladie 's sick to day ; And straight to have my Sexton calling , And ask me when he shall toll all in . If I must needs be both , then name ye what kind of Doctor you would have me : Chymick ? alas the costly Furnace , Will quickly my small purse unfurnish ; Or Galenist ? that won't agree With my other trade Divinity : Nor with Preachers now the mode is , To strive to make themselves Methodists . I wish you would a Lawyer had me , That indeed had quickly made me ; 'T is they bring all unto their purses , The Countreys money , and their curses , By poring on some mouldy Record , And bringing fools unto an accord . With Poets Men so hardly deal , They are scarce part o' th' Common-weal . Father Apello , and Mother Muses , Gave all away to Pious uses : So that their Children must fair ill , That have nought left them but the bare hill . Lastly , my Friend , you are too hard , To challenge a small Oxford Bard , To send you verse in hungry Lent , A fasting time , and Penitent : When I should be confessing sins Of mine , and too of other mens ; You 'd force me to commit one more , ( And sure 't were not the least o' th' score ) To make bad Rhithmes : which needs are dismal , When Stomach 's great , and Commons is small : To tell y' a plain , but Christian truth , Verse must be fat , that would be smooth . An Army ( said the King of Sweden , ( He that did know so well to lead one ) Is a great beast , which if you draw , You must begin first from the maw . So say I of the beast a Poet , ( And all our Rhithming Kindred know it ) Who ere intend a Poem to make , He must beging first with his stomach ; Good sooth , at this dull time o' th year , When we must drink plain physick beer ; When all to temperance are bent here , To expiate the sins o' th Winter : When we must leave our former merr'ment ; Because forsooth our blouds now ferment : When we must no more Taverns survey , But be content with juyce of Scurvey : When such thin Commons do us serve , As would a very Spaniard starve : When we 've such fish , set on our board , Which scarce your fish-whores would afford , Without stop'd nose to look upon ; Nor swear 't is sweet , though 't were her own : At this lean time I say , troth , scarce I Can write as well as P. from Jersey : Whose Rhythmes were yet so paultry that All men that heard them , wish'd his fate : Pray'd rather then such stuff to hear , They might with th' Author loose each ear . Upon my conscience such a mood in , As I am now , was learn'd John Goodwin , When he so high of Worster fight , In Elimosynary verse did write : Such Rhythmes the King might thank that day , Which forced him to run away , Out of their sound that would have more Grated his ears then 's loss before : ( In such a meagre season now By all the Poets hills I vow ) Should I be forc'd my muse to raise , She 'd sound as bad as Sterries praise : I think I should come short of Wither , Whose quill had ink , but not one feather : Nor in this humour verse can I brew , Better then Psalms turn'd out of Hebrew : Unhappy Psalms ! that so long lasted , To be at length so metaphrasted , By good old provost Francis R●us , A Member of the other House : Who with much pains and many a pang , At last made Davids Lute cry twang : The sacred Harp so sadly by him strung , Seems as if still it on the Willows hung . Then be content till after Easter , By that I 'll cheer my Muse , and feast her And then ( God send it prove no lie , ) She that can't now creep , shall flie .
VII . An Epistle from a Friend to the Author upbraiding him with his writing Songs . DEar friend , believ'e my love has spurr'd me on , For once to question thy discretion : And by right reason deify'd by thee , I blame thee for the wrongs to Poesie Thou hast committed ; in betraying it To th' censure ( not the judgment ) of each wit ; Wit , did I say ? things whose dull spirits are Apt only to applaud , what e'r they hear , Be 't good or bad , so throated to their mind , Johnson and Taylor like acceptance find . Why pedler'st thus thy muse ? Why dost set ope A shop of wit , to set the fidlers up ? Fie prodigal , canst statuated shine , By the abuse of Women , praise of Wine ? Or such like toyes , which every hour are By every pen spu'd forth in t' every ear . Thy comely Muse dress up in robes , and raise Majestick splendour to thy wreath of bayes : Don't prostitute her thus , her Majesty , ( Like that of Princes ) when the vulgar see Too frequently , respect and awe are fled , Contempt and scorn remaineth in their stead : But I have done , and fear I 've done amiss , Being doubtful , lest thou 't give thy Fidlers this . I. B.
VIII : The Answer . DId I not know thee ( friend ) and that this fit Comes not to shew thy malice but thy wit , I might this action censure , and reprove As well thy want of judgement , as of love ; And think my Muse , were doubly now forlorn ; Below thy envie , yet not above thy scorn : But yet I wonder why thy reason thus , Which thou call'st right , and 's magnify'd by us , And justly too , should vote me indiscreet ; Because my Poems do with all sorts meet , How can I help it ? Who can circumscribe His words or works , within the small-wise tribe ? And you the hearers kind applause do blame , When charity bids us all do the same . If good we must , and if the wit be such , That it does need , who would not lend a crutch ? W●●re mortal Writers , and are forc'd t' a truce , For he that gives , may well expect abuse . Johnson and Taylor in their kind were both Good Wits , who likes one , need not t'other loath . Wit is like beauty , nature made the Jone As well 's the Lady . We see every one Meets with a match : Neither can I expect , Thou more my Muse then Mistress should'st affect ; And yet I like them both , if thou don't too , Can't you let them alone for those that do ? Now if thou 'ldst know the very reason why I write so oft , to please my self , say I. I know no more why I write more then thee , Then why my Father got more sons then me , Nor pedling call 't , for those in Cheap as well , As they at Fairs expose their wares to sell : But I give freely mine , and thought it be To Fidlers , yet 't is to a company ; And all those gifts are well bestowed , which At once do make us merry , and them rich . If making Sonnets were so great a sin , Repent ; 't was you at first did draw me in : And if the making one Song be not any , I can't believe I sin in making many . But oh ! the Themes displease you , you repine , Because I throw down Women , set up Wine : Why that offends you , I can see no reason , Unless 'cause I , not you , commit the treason . Our judgments jump in both , we both do love Good Wine and Women ; if I disapprove The slights of some , the matter 's understood , I 'm ne'r the less belov'd by th' truly good . You 'ld have no phancy blown upon , but must Have all new broach'd or can'd to please your gust ; When this demand of yours is grown as old As what you quarrel at , and as often told ; And ther 's old Wits that will as much condemn Your novelty , as you can censure them . Now for those robes in which you 'l have me dress My homely Muse , and write with loftiness ; Talk of State-matters , and affairs of Kings ; Thou know'st we 've beat our heads about those things , Till I 'd my teeth near beat out , after all My toyl , the worms must turn poetical . He that courts others ears , may use designs , Be coy and costive ; but my harmless lines , If they produce a laughter are well crown'd , Yet though they 've sought none , have acceptance found , With these I sport my self , and can invite My self and friends t' a short and sweet delight ; While all our tedious toyls , which we call Playes , Like the great Ship , lie slugging in their Bayes ▪ And can no service do without great cost And time , and then our time and stomach 's lost , But I must write no more for fear that we Be like those brethren in divinity . Whilst thou dost go to make my flash expire , I raise thy flame and make it burn much higher : Only because thou doubt'st I should bestow Thy lines upon my Fidlers , thou shalt know , That had they been upon a busines fit , And were I subject equall to my wit , T 'had gone , and thou shouldst sing them too , and so Be both the Poet and the Fidler too .
IX . To a Lady destring the Copy of a Song . Madam , YOu are a Poetess 't is true , Nor had we men been Poets but for you ; 'T is from your sex we 've learnt our art and wit ; 'T is for your sakes that we do practice it . Your subtler sex first ventred on the tree , Where knowledg grew , and pluck'd the fruit which we Did only tast , and that at second hand , Yet by that hand , and taste we 're all trep●n'd ; And our posterity the doom endures ; You op'd our eyes , as you know who did yours : By your command this Song thus rudely pen'd , To you I do commit , though not commend ; To shew what duty I 'm arriv'd unto , You cannot sooner bid , then I can do : Nor can your active soul command and sway , With more delight and pride , then mine obey . I will not say this Poem's bad or good , 'T is as 't is lik'd , and as 't is understood . A Poem's life , and death dependeth still Not on the Poets wit , but Readers will : Should it in sence seem rascal , low and dull , Your eye can make it sprightly , plump , and full : And if it should be lame , I hope 't will be , ( 'Cause somewhat like your self ) more pleasing t' ye : If it should trip , assist it with your hand , You may lend feet , for you can make things stand . One touch of yours can cure its ev'l , and then 'T is made by your fair hand , not my blunt pen , Useful for love , or slighting you 'l it find ; For love before , or for disdain behind : Be 't as you please , to more it can't aspire ; 'T is all it can deserve , or I desire .
X. To his Friend C. S. Esquire . INspir'd with plum-br●th , and mine'd pies , This Letter comes in humble wise , To know how Su. and how you do ? Or whether you do do , or no : Whether you Christmas keep , or not ? For here we such a Mayor have got , That though our Taverns open stand , Church doors are shut , by his command : He does as good as say ( we think ) Leave off this preaching , and go drink : But this I doubt's no news to you , The Countrey 's Atheist part , part Jew ; And care no more for Christ or 's Mass , Then he for them : So let 'um pass : And could the Priests be sure of pay , They 'ld down with that , and t'other day . Yet spite of all our May'r could say , We would not fast , though could not pray . Here 's feasting still throughout the City , And drinking much ( the more 's the pity ) . And that 's the cause why all this time , I did not answer your last Rhithme : Nor did I know ; 'T is not my fashion , In verse to make a disputation : What ever Su. and you have writ , Shews both your kindness and your wit : But only I desire to know If you 're a Member made or no ; For here we have a great adoe , About our choice , whom , how , and who Elects , or is Elected ; some To be made Members , send , and come ; While others of the wiser sort , Sit still at home , and care not for 't . Richard , 't is thought , has no intent To have an endless Parliament : Nor must they share his goods and lands , For what he has he 'l keep in 's hands : Much is not left to be divided , The business has so well been guided ; Nay he himself ( I tell no lye ) Wants money more then you or I : No reason therefore can I see , Why you should bustle much to be A Senatour , unless it were , For honour ; yet that is but air , And not the sweet'st , or saf'st , but still Depends on other peoples will . But trust me ( Charles ) you have a vain That does more love and honour gain ; And longer keep 't then all the tricks , Of those that study Politicks . Protections needless , for ( they say ) You owe no debts , that you can pay ; To Nature one , which during life , You cannot pay , nor that t' your Wife : Yet I would have you come away , That though the House don't meet , we may : When every one gets up , and ride , 'T is good to be o' th rising side : For as i' th Church , so 't is i' th State ; Who 's not Elect , is Reprobate .
XI . To C. S. Esquire . Justice , I 've waited long to find thee here ; Peep'd into th' house , but could not see thee there ▪ I went to th' other House , but they 're so new , They no such name or person ever knew . 'T was for this cause , my pen has slept so long ; I hop'd to see thee in that learned throng : And did believe some Borough would in pity , Have sent thee up to dignifie our City : But Corporations do not well discern What 's for their good , and they 're too old to learn . Had our whole Senate been such men as thou , They 'd not been routed , but sate still till now ▪ But they 'd be medling , and to voting fall , Against the sword , and that out-votes them all ; Had they observ'd thy Councel , they 'd been safe ; Stick to the strongest side , and think , and laugh . What matter i's t what those in Office say , When those that are in power , do answer nay ? A Cutlers shop affords us stronger law , Then Cook or Littleton e'r read , or saw : But be content , let them do what they will , Be thou a Justice I 'm Atturney still . A poor Atturney is a safer thing Now , then to be Protector or a King . Our noble Sheriff's a dying , and I fear Will never feast us more in Taunton-shire . Pray tell your lovely Sue , I love her still , As Well's I dare , let her not take it ill , I write not to her , I 've time enough , 't is true , But have not wit enough to deal with Sue .
XII . To C. S. Esquire . DEar Charles , I 'm thus far come to see thy face , Thy pretty face , but this unhappy place Does not afford it , and I 'm told by some , That want of Tythes , make thee thou can'st not come ; Why ( Charles ) art thou turn'd Priest ? and at this time , When Priests themselves have made their coat a crime ? And tythes , which make men Priests , do so decay , One other Schism will preach them quite away : Thou 'lt ne'r become it well , for I do find , Wit in a Pulpit is quite out of kind ; Thou canst not stand long , nor talk much , and lowd , Nor thrash , nor couzen the admiring crowd ; And ( which is worse ) though th' hast a face , and hand , A diamond ring , white glove , and clean lawn band , Able to tempt an Abbess , yet , I find , Thou canst not satisfie the Ladies mind , What ere the matter is : But thou art wise , And do'st best know thine own infirmities . Let me advise thee ( Charles ) be as thou art , A Poet , so thou need'st not care a — - For all the turns of time : who ere did know The Muses sequestred ? or who can shew , That ever wit paid taxes , or was rated ? Homer and Virgil ne'r were decimated : Ovid indeed was banished , but for that , Which women say , you ne'r were ex'lent at . But ( Charles ) thou art unjusticed , I 'm told By one , who though not valiant , yet is bold : And that thou hast unfortunately met , The blinded scourge o' th Western-Bajazet : Thrown from the bench like Lucifer , and are In a fair way to be brought to the bar . I' th interim hang 'twixt both , as law doth name us , A billa-vera-man , or Ignoramus . But I can't learn wherefore it is , nor how , Though I 've inquir'd of both , perhaps nor thou ; Some say 't is for thy valour , which our time , In a wise Magistrate , accounts a crime : If it be true , thou hast ill luck in this , To have two virtues ; and both plac'd amiss , To thwart each other ; when thou should'st have been A valiant Captain , wisdome was thy sin , And so uncaptain'd thee ; and now the time Calls for thy wisdome , valour is thy crime : And so unjustic'd thee ; unlucky wretch ! Two virtues want'st , yet hast too much of each ! ▪ Who ere compos'd thy mind , plaid Babel-tricks , Brought lime and timber , when he should bring bricks . But we live in an age so full of lies , I dare not trust my ears , nor scarce my eyes . I hope this is a lye too : but if true , 'T is an affliction ( Charles ) that 's justly due To thy desert ; Our State holds it unfit , One man should be a Justice , and a wit . Go ask thy Lady , if it were ever known , A Man should be a Justice , and do none . Come , be advis'd by me , set out a book In English too , where Justices may look , And learn their trade ; let Presidents , of all Warrants and Mittimuses , great and small ; All Ale-heuse Licenses , and other things , Which to the Justices instruction brings , Be there inserted ; that the age to come , ( The children of such men as can get some ) May glorifie thy memory , and be Thy praises trumpets to posterity : As from one Looking-glass thrown on the ground ; In every piece , a perfect face is found , So from thy ruines , all may plainly see , Legions of Justices as wise as thee . Now having taken all this pains to see Thy worship , and can find nor it , nor thee , Pray come to T — - bring thy beloved Sue , My Mat. and I will meet with her and you ; And though my Mat's no Poet , you shall see , She 'l sit and laugh with , or at us , that be : I 'll make thy Lady merry , and laugh until , She break that belly , which thou canst not fill . Mean time pray give her one prolifick kiss ; Tell her it comes from me , and if that miss , Give her another ; and if both won't do , Do that with three which can't be done by two . If thou com'st not , I shall have cause to curse Tythes , like the laity , and it may be worse : My sufferings are more , then theirs can be , They 'l keep their tythes , but tythes keep thee from me . But if thou can'st not come , be sure to write ; Don't rob at once , my hearing and my sight . If thou bring'st not thy body , send thy wit , For we must laugh with thee , or else at it .
XIII . To C. S. Esquire . 1. SInce we met last , my Brother dear , We 've had such alterations here , Such turnings in and out : That I b●ing fat and breathless grown , My side I meant to take was gone , E'r I could turn about . 2. First I was for the King , and then He could not please the Parliament men , And so they went by th' ears : I was with other fools sent out , And staid three daies , but never fought 'Gainst King or Cavaliers . 3. And ( Brother ) as I have been told , You were for the Parliament of old , And made a mighty dust ; And though perhaps you did not kill , You prov'd your self as valiant still , As ever they were just . 4. You were ingaged in that war , When C. R , fought against C. R. By a distinction new . You alwaies took that side that 's right , But when Charles with himself did fight , Pray of which side were you ? 5. Should I that am a man of law , Make use of such a subtle claw , In London or in Ex'ter ; And be of both sides as you were , People would count me then , I fear , A Knavish Ambodexter . 6. But since all sides so tottering be ▪ It puzzles wiser men then me , Who would no● have it utter'd ; What side to take they cannot tell , And I believe they know not well Which side their bread is butter'd . 7. Here 's fore-side , and here 's back-side too ; And two left sides , for ought I know , I can find ne'r a right : I 've been for th' middle twenty years , And will be still , for there appears Most Safety and delight . 8. But if the times think that too high , By creeping lower , I 'll comply , And with their humour jump . If love at th' belly may not enter In an Italian way , I 'll venter , To love the very Rump . 9. So here 's t' you ( Charles ) a Rubber's too 't ; Here 's a Cast more ; if that won't do 't , Here 's half a dozen more , and To every feather here 's a glass ; Nay rather then I 'll let it pass , Here 's a years healths before hand . 10. If loving it , and drinking to 't , And making others drink to boot , Don't shew my good affection . I 'll sit down disaffected still , And let them all do what they will , Until our next Election . 11. But I 'm concern'd ( me thinks ) to find Our Grandees turn with every wind , Yet keep like Corks above : They lived and dyed but two years since With Oliver their pious Prince , Whom they did fear and love . 12. As soon as Richard did but raign , They liv'd and dy'd with him again , And swore to serve him ever : But when Sir Arthur came with 's men , They liv'd and dy'd with him agen , As if Dick had been never . 13. And when Prince Lambert turn'd them out , They liv'd and dy'd another bout , and vilifi'd the Rump ; And now for them they live and dye , But for the Devil by and by , If he be turn'd up trump . 14. Yet still they order us and ours , And will be called Higher Powers : But I will tell you what ; Either these slaves forswear , and lye , Or if they did so often dye , They 've more lives then a Cat. 15. Let the times run , and let men turn , This is too wise an age to burn , We 'l in our Judgment hover , Till 't is agreed what we must be , In the interim take this from me , I 'm thy eternal Lover .
XIV . To his Friend W. C. DEar Brother Will . thy dearer John and I , Now happy in each others company , Send thee this greeting , and do wish that we , By thy addition , may be made up three ; Two make no sport , they can but sit and sip ; Here 's t' you , and thank you's no good fellowship . We 're Melancholy 'cause we drink alone , For John and I together spell but one : Three is the perfect number , that is able To difference a solitude from a rabble . Here , if we mix with company , 't is such As can say nothing , though they talk too much : Here we learn Georgicks , here the Bucolicks , Which building 's cheapest , timber , stone , or bricks . Here 's Adams natural Sons , all made of Earth , Earth's their Religion , their discourse , their mirth : But on the Sunday thou 'ldst admire to see , How dirt is mingled with Divinity . Such disputations , writing , singing , praying , So little doing good , and so much saying ; It tires us weak lung'd Christians , and I think , So much the more , 'cause there 's so little drink : And that so bad , that we with them are faign To go to Church and sleep , and home again , Twice in a Sabbath , and to break the rest , With tedious repetions , and molest The Servants memories with such pitteous stuff , As wisemen think once said's more then enough . Thus do we spend our time , and meet with nothing , But what creates our trouble , and our loathing . Come then away , leave Butchers , leave thy Lord , Our Countrey here shall both , or more afford . Jack here 's a Lord , a Prince , ( nay more ) a friend , He and his bottles make the Vulgar bend : And if thou didst believe him , or know me , I am more Butcher then they two can be : If all these things won't make thee come away , I am resolv'd to thee-ward , if thou 'lt stay . Drink till I come , that I may find thee mellow , 'T is ten to one , thou 'lt meet or make thy fellow .
XV. To his Friend I. B. Upon his Tragedy .

In 1652.

THou may'st well wonder , and my self should be Dumb , if I should be dumb in praising thee : Since I 've occasion now to exercise Sublimest thoughts , yet not hyperbolize . But since we two are Brothers , and subscribe , Both Voluntiers to the Poetick Tribe , I dare not do 't , lest any Dulman sayes , We , by consent , do one another praise : Yet dare applaud thy work , and thee in it , So good in language , plot , and strength of wit , That none but thou can equall't . Not a line , But 's thine , 'cause good , and good because 't is thine . So that my duller sight , can hardly see Whether thou mak'st it exc'lent , or it thee . Let those , whose anvil-heads , beat all delight , Into a toil , at every line they write . Now , vail to thee , and fairly yield the bayes ; Since all their works compar'd with thine are playes . So far I like thy worth , that I should be Intic'd if possible to flatter thee .
XVI . To a Potting Priest upon a Quarrel .

In 1643.

I Cannot choose but wonder , Mr. — — - That we two wisemen , had so little wit , As without quarrel , jealousies , or fears , Worse then the times , we two should go by th' ears . I marvel what inspir'd this valour in you , Though you were weak , you 'd something strong within you . 'T was not your learning , neither can I think , That 't was your valour , but John D — - strong drink . Love and good liquor , have a strong command , T' make cowards fight , longer then they can stand . I need not ask your reason , for 't was gone ; Nor had you sense enough to feel you 'd none : Was it to shew your Mistress you could fight ; Living i' th woods , you 'ld be an Errant Knight ? That Lady may have cause enough to rue , That has no better Champion then you . You might have sav'd that labour , each man reads . You 're a wilde man both in your looks and deeds : By th' wonders of your drinking , men may see , You are a Hero without Chivalry : You thought a duel , would your Mrs. please , But prov'd a Thraso , not an Hercules . I might have thought my self a Worthy too , Because I tam'd a Monster , that is you : Your Zeal ( me thought ) was greatly kindled , That went to make a Pulpit of my head . Blame me not , though I strook , for I was vext , To be so basely handled , like your Text ; With subtil Sophistry , that when you mist In words , you would confute me with your fist : But such weak Sillogisms from you ran , As I could never read in Keckerman : That brain-aspiring drink , so much did dip us , You mistook Aristotle , for Aristippus . Your head that should be King , was now pull'd down , While that rebellious Beer usurp'd your crown : And your Mechannick heels gaz'd on the stars , As if they went to turn Astronsmers : Your legs were altogether for commanding , And taught your foolish head more understanding : Your body so revers'd , did represent . ( Being forked ) our bi-corned Government : Your wits were banished , and your brains were drown'd , While your Calves-head lay center'd to the ground : Thus being black without , within a beast , I took you for a Tinker , not a Priest . In your next Sermon , let your audience hear , How you can preach damnation to strong Beer . I have return'd your knife at your demand ; But if I 've put a sword t' a mad mans hand , Let me advise you , when you fight again , Fight with a worse , or be a better man .
XVII . To his Friend Mr. W. H. upon the death of his Hawk .

In 1643.

WHat will you suffer thus your Hawk to dye ? And shan't her name live in an Elegy ? It shall not be , nor shall the people think We 've so few Poets , or so little drink : And if there be no sober brain to do it , I 'll wet my Muse , and set my self unto it . I have no Gods , nor Muse to call upon , Sir John's strong barrel is my Helicon : From whence uncurbed streams of tears shall flow , And verse shall run , when I my self can't go . Poor bird , I pitty this thy strange disaster , That thou should'st thus be murther'd by thy master . Was it with Salt ? I 'm sure he was not fresh , Or wa's t thy trusting to an arm of flesh ? Or 'cause 't was darksome , did his eye-sight fail , Meeting a Post , he took it for a Rayle . And yet I wonder how he mis'd his sight ; For though the night was dark , his head was light : And though he bore thee with a mighty hand , Thou needs must fall , when he himself can't stand . 'T is but our common lot , for we do all Sometimes for want of understanding fall : But thou art serv'd aright , for when th' hadst flown , What e're thou took'st , thou took'st to be thy own . And 't is but Justice , that each plundring knave , That such a life doth lead , such death should have . Rejoyce you Partridge , and be glad ye Rayles : For the Hawks tallons , are as short's your tayles . If all the Kingdoms bloudy foes , as she , Would break their necks , how joyful should we be . Well , at her burial , thus much I will tell , In spite of schism , her bells shall ring a knell .
XVIII . To his School-Master Mr. W. H. upon his Poem call'd Conscientiae accusatricis Hypotyposis . In 1644. Sir , WHen I read your work , and thought upon , How lively you had made description , Of an accusing conscience , and did see , How well each limn did with th' Archtipe agree . I wonder'd how you could lim't out so well , Since you b'experience can't it's horrour tell . Trust me , I 'ld praise it , but that I suppose , My praise would make it more inglorious ; In love to th' work and work-man , I thought meet , To make your verses stand on English feet . But whe'r well done , or ill , I here submit Unto your censure , both my self and it . I 'm man , I 'm young , unlearn'd , and thereupon I know , I cannot boast perfection . In fetter'd tasks , wherein the fancy's tide , Do what one can , the lustre won't abide : No Ideoms kiss so well , but that there is Between some phrases some Antithesis . What e'r is good , in each unpolish'd line , I count as yours , the faults alone are mine . I wish each foot and line , as strong , and true ; As my desire to love , and honour you .
XIX . To his Friend T. S. Tom , SInce thou didst leave both me and this town , The sword is got up , and the law 's tumbled down . Those eager disputes between Harrington and Wren , At length have inspir'd the Red-coated Men : Whose sides , not their heads , do wear the Lex terrae : With which they will rule us until we be weary . We know not whose highest ( what e'r people brawle ) Whether Wallingford-House or Westminster-Hall : You made a contest neither pulpit nor tub-like , What 's fittest , a Monarchy or a Republick : But Desborough sayes , that Scholar's a fool , That advances his pen against the war-tool . We have various discourses and various conjectures , In Taverns , in Streets , in Sermons , and Lectures : Yet no man can tell what may hap in the close , Which are wiser , or honester , these men or those . But for my part I think 't is in vain to contest , I sit still and say , he that 's strongest is best . The World keeps a round , that original sin , That thrust some people out , draws other folks in : They have done they did not know what , and now Some think that they do not know what they may do . But State matters ( Tom ) are too weighty and high , For such mean private persons as thou art , and I. We will not our Governours calling invade , We 'l mind our own good , let them follow their trade : Lanch forth into th' Pulpit , much learning will be , A hindrance to thy Divinity : 'T is better to mind what will cloath ye , and feed ye , Then those empty titles of M. A. and D. D. I have one thing to beg , and I won't be deni'd , You must once more mount Pegasus , and you must O'r the County of D. whose praise must b'expre● ▪ ri 〈…〉 In a Poem to grace our next County feast ; Which will be next term , 't was what I design'd ; But want wit and time to do 't to my mind : Thou hast Subject and wit , if thou hast but a will , Thou maist make a Poem , next that Coupers-hill . Remember thy promise , to send me my book , With a copy of thine , for which I do look ; And let not a Letter come hither to me , But fraighted with Poems , and written by thee : And I out of gratitude shall take a care , To make a return of our City ware . I 'll vex thee no more with this paltry rhythme , For fear it should make thee mis-spend thy time : And so I have this Apology for 't , Though it be'nt very sweet , it shall be pretty short .
XX. To the Meritoriously Honourable Lord Chief Justice of the Kings-Bench . GReat Sir , and Good ! beloved , and obey'd ! To whose great worth , honour 's not giv'n but paid . To whose great love , and knowledge we all owe , All that we have of law , and that we know ; Who with strong reason , from the factious clawes Of wilful fools , redeem'd our sacred lawes . Full twenty years have I a Servant been , To this Profession , I live by and in : Eight years a Master , and in all this space , Have nothing done that mis-became my place ; Nor have my actions been Derogatory Unto my Clients profit , or the glory Of this renowned Court ; and therefore I Now humbly beg to be at liberty . Justice , and reason both command , that he Who serv'd , so long , should at the last be free : For this I serv'd , for this our Nation fought , And pray'd , and paid so much ; nor do I doubt , T' obtain my wish herein , could I but find , Desert in me proportion'd to your mind . The benefit o' th' Clergy I desire , That I may be admitted of that Quire . Who their own Pleas , in their own names enrowl , And may perform my place without controul . My Lord , you 've power and will to do 't , and though I am not worthy , if you think me so , Your Lordships test can constitute me that , Which my abilities can near reach at . My comfort is , 't is what you don't deny To some , that read and write as bad as I : And there 's a kindness which belongs to such , As having little worth , beg where there 's much . Caesar that valiant General was ador'd More for his liberal hand , then for his Sword ; And your great Archetipe his Highness does Derive more honour from the mouthes of those Whom he hath gratifi'd , then by the death Of those his conquering sword depriv'd of breath . Freedome's a Princely thing to give , 't is that Which all our Laws do stand for , and aim at ; And 't will be some addition to your fame , When I with tongue , and pen enlarg'd , proclaim , 'Mong all your Noble acts , you made a room , In your great heart , for — A. B.
XXI . A New-years-gift presented to the same . My Lord , DId I not find it by experience true ; Beggers are many , but Thanks-givers few . I had not dar'd t'envade your eye , with this , Mean gratulation whose ambition is , But to be pardon'd , and the faults to smother , With this which were committed by the other : Yet since 't is gratitude , it may please you , If not as good , yet as 't is strange and new . Great Atlas of our laws and us , whose will , Is alwaies active , back'd by unmatch'd skill ; To rule the Nation , and instruct it too , And make all persons live , as well as know : Though being among the undiscerning throng , You suffer'd once , you acted all along : Your sufferings did but like the Martyrs flame ; Advance your Person , and exalt your name : Disclos'd your vertues , from their ●ullen Ore , Make your gold shine , which was pure gold before : Your noble soul tells us from whence you came , You 've both the British Nature and the name : By your example , you instruct us what Our Grandsires were , and what they aimed at . Ere the phantastick French , or selvish Dutch , Were grafted on our stocks , our souls were such , As yours is now ; Now we by you may see , What once we were , what now we ought to be . Great Men , great favours , to great men repay , With great rewards , but I can only say , Your Lordship , your great kindnesses have thrown On one , that can return , or merit none : But you must pay , and thank your self for me , With your own goodness ; That vast Treasury , That found your love so generous and immense , To cast on me , can find you Recompence . A gift of worth my fortune can't bring forth , Proportion'd to your kindness , or your worth . Let me send what I can , it will not be Enough for you , though 't be too much for me : What more to do or say , I cannot tell ; Much I can't do , nor can say much , and well : But what I can not do , I will desire , And what I can't express , I shall admire . May this new year be prosperous may each hour ▪ Bring you new blessings , in a plenteous shour ! May Heaven still smile upon you , and still bless All that you do , and all that you possess ! May you live long and flourish too , that I When I need succour , may know where to fly , And find supplies ! May all your actions be As beneficial t' all , as this to me , That when you dye ( great pity 't is you shou'd ) Th' whole land may mourn , not as you 're great , but good . And though I have not ransackt Sea and Shore , To make you richer then you were before ; I hope this geateful , though but rude address , May please you more , though it hath cost me less .
XXII . To his Honoured Friend R. Henley Esquire . Sir , THough I woed you not in Verse , or Prose , To make my name , and me more glorious : By being your Clerk , the work is done , I find ; Not that I 'm worthy on 't , but you are kind : Therefore these lines address themselves to you , Not givenfreely t' you , but paid as due : And that they may your kind acceptance win , They 've Sack ( their common badge ) with them and in ; And I presume , without much scruple ; you May drink old Sack , although the year be new : But though I am not rich enough to send Gifts fit for you t' accept ; nor do intend T' enrich Peru : nor think it fit to give Our betters that , by which our selves should live . This will , I hope , your candid nature move , 'Cause I give freely what I dearly love ; And I believe 't is true , what I 've been told , You love good Sack , as well as your partner Gold . I know not whether you 'l like this or no ; But if it be not good , my will is so : May it prove excellent ! and may all those , That drink it freely , be ingenuous : That is , be found or made so ! unto yours and you , May this year prove as prosperous as new : May we live quiet , and lay by our swords : And have no more lawless and boistrous Lords ! May the Law stand ! may Justice rule the roast ; One sober Judge rules better then an hoast : And be assur'd this truth you 'l ever find ; I 'll be as dutiful as you are kind . Nor shall you in your Rolls find out a Man , Would serve you more then I , though many can .
XXIII . To his Friend J. H. Esquire . 1. IF thou canst fashion no excuse , To stay at home , as 't is thy use , When I do send for Thee . Let neither sickness , way , nor rain , With fond delusions thee detain , But come thy way to me . 2. Hang such a sickness , that has power , To seize on thee at such an hour , When thou should'st take thy pleasure : Go give thy Doctor half a Fee , That it may never trouble thee , Until thou art at leisure . 3. We have a Cup of Sider here , That scorns that Common strumpet , Beer , And such dull drinks as they 're . Their potions made of Hops and Mault , Can only make our fancies hault , This makes them quick as ayre . 4. Ceres with Bacchus dares compare , And swears her fruits the liquor are , That Poets so implore : A fip of Sack may work a verse , But he that drinks a bowl of Hers , Shall thunder out a score . 5. To morrow morning come away , Friday we 'll vote a happy day , In spite of Erra Pater ; And bring with you a spark or twain , Such as will drink , and drink again , To treat about the matter .
XXIV . To a Gentleman that fell sick of the small Pox , when he should be married . Sir , WHen you view these checker'd lines and see , How ( bate the colour ) like your face they be . You 'll think this sheet to be your looking-glass ; And all these spots , the Ecchoes of your face : Wherein Disease and Love their field have pight , To try which is more lovely Red , or White ; Like our late Souldiers , who more rage did show , Unto the place that fed them , then their foe . Sickness , ( loves Rival ) envy in the place , Where Cupid chose to pitch his tents , your face Went to write foul , but Cupid made it prove Spite of his spite , the alphabet of love : So as they strove , love serv'd him in his trim ; For as that set on you , this set on him : And love that conquers all things , soon made known , To him a burning greater then his own . Accurst disease ! dost thou come , crawling hither , To separate whom Heaven had joyned together ? Hadst thou no time to vent thy rage , but this When swelling hopes did dawn towards their bliss ? I' th inter-regnum twixt desires and joyes , The cursed Vigil of blest holy daies ! What pitty 't is that face where love has been So oft , so proud to play so sweetly in ; By thy dire hand should be o'r-turned thus , ●●s to be made a Campus Martius ; Wherein the angry York and Lancaster , New-vamp , and do retrive their musty stir ? As if the Red-rose and the White would be , Where e'r they met , still at Antipathy ; A face that was as clear as day , as bright , Should bud with stars like an enamell'd night : Your sickness meant to turn Astronomer ; Your face the Heaven , and every spot a Star : Or else would write an Almanack , and raise , by those red Letters , nought but holy-daies . Were it your Butlers face , a Man would think , They had but been new boylings of the drink : Or had his nose been such , one would have swore 'T were red with anger , 'cause he drank no more : Or had your keeper such , hee 'ld sell it all For harts-horn to make hafts of knives withall . Or if your Cooks were such , how it would fit , To grate your ginger , or nutmegs with it ? But why on your face ? what was his design ? Was it to break the Hymeneal twine , That was half twisted ? Tush ! he 's much mistook ; Your love was past the Criss-cross of a look : And your affections are of riper age , Then now to gaze on beauties title-page ; Or barely dwell upon the face , those toyes Are Ocean'd in the hopes of future joyes . Then blush no more , but let your Mrs. know , They 're but Love-letters written on your brow , Etch'd by th' Engravers hand , there she may see , That beauty's subject to mortality : How frail a thing it is , how vain t' adore it , What fools are they that love or marry for it ; And that this sickness which hath curb'd you , is But the sad prologue to your future bliss . An Ember-week or Lent , which alwaies falls , As Fasting-eves before your Festivals . 'T will make you prize your joy the more when 't comes , Usher'd along by tedious Martyrdomes . How acceptable is a plenteous boul , When 't is carowsed by a thirsty soul ! So have I seen the winter strip the trees , To fit them for their vernal Liveries ! And cloath th' old Earth in gray , nip every thing , before it rowles it self into the spring . So has black night begot a gray-ey'd day , So Sol does rout conspiring clouds with Ray ; As through this sickness , does your joyes come on , And gulf your hopes in firm fruition : When your red-rose , clubs with your Ladies white , And as the ancient flowers did unite ; Your happiness will swell , and you will prove The Gemini of joy , as now of love . These things I guess not by your face , I find Your front is not the Index of your mind : Yet by your Phys'mony , thus much is meant , You are not spotless , though you 're innocent . Sir if these verses go a halting pace , They stumble in the valleys of your face .
XXV . To his Friend Mr. I. B. being at London in the Authors retirement . THough we are now analys'd ; and can't find , How to have mutual presence , but in mind ; I 'm bold to send you this , that you may know , Though you 're above , yet I do live below . Though I 've no bags that are with child with gold , And though my fireless chymnies catch the cold , For want of great revenues , yet I find I've what 's as good as all , a sated mind : I neither money want , nor have I store ; I have enough to live , and ask no more : No tip-toed turret , whose aspiring brow , Looks down and scorns the humble roofs below : My cottage lies beneath the thunders harms , Laughs at the whispers of the winds , or storms . My rooms are not in-lin'd with Tapistry ; But ragged walls where a few books may lye . I flight the silks , whose ruffling-whispers pride , And all the worlds Tautologies beside : My limbs inhabit but a Countrey dress , Not to adorn , but cover nakedness . My family 's not such , whose gentry springs , Like old Mecaenasses , from Grandsire Kings . I 've many kinred , yet my friends are few ; Those few not rich , and yet more rich then true : I've but a drachm of learning , and less wit ; Yet that 's enough to fright my wealth from it : As if those two seldome or never meet , But like two Generals that with bullets greet . I study to live plenteously , though scant ; How not to have , yet not to care , nor want : We 've here no gawdy feminines to show , As you have in that great Seraglio : He that weds here , lies cloyster'd in a maid ; A Sepulchre where never man was laid . Ours are with Load-stone touch'd and never will , But right against their proper pole lye still . Yours like Hell-gates , do alwaies open lye , Like Hackney-jades they stand at livery : Like treasuries where each one throws his mite ; G●lph● of contraries , at once dark and light . Where who so enters , is like gold refin'd ; Passing through fire , where Moloch sits enshrin'd , And offers up a whole-burnt sacrifice , To pacifie those fiery Deities . I have no far-fetch'd dear-bought delicates , Whose virtues prized only by their rates : No fancy'd Kick-shaws that would serve t' invite , To a fourth course the glutted appetite . Hunger's my Cook , my labour brings me meat , Which best digests , when it is sawc'd with sweat : They that have pluresies of these about them , Yet do but live , and so do I without them . I can sit in my study soon or late , And have no Troopers quarrel with my gate ; Nor break the peace with it , whose innocence Stands only guarded in its own defence : No debts to sue for , and no coyn to lend ; No cause to fear my foe , nor slight my friend : Yet there is one thing which me thinks I han't , And I have studied to supply that want ; 'T is the Synopsis of all misery ; 'T is the tenth want ( Dear Friend ) the want of Thee . May we once more enjoy our selves , for neither Is truly blest , till we are blest together !
XXVI . An Elogy on a Lady that dyed before her intended Nuptials . AMong the train of mourners , whose swoln eyes Wallow in tears of these sad obsequies ; Admit me as a cypher here to come , Who though am nothing , yet can raise a sum : And truly I can mourn as well as they Who 're clad in sable weeds , though mine is gray . Excuse me Sir , passion will swell that 's pent ; Thank not my tears , I cannot but lament , To see a Lady ready for your bed , To death's imbraces yield her mayden-head : And that Angellick Corps , that should have been A Cabinet to lodge your Jewels in , Should now b'imbalm'd with dust , and made a prey To the happy worms , who may call that day On which her limbs unto their lot did fall ; Your sad Solemnities , their Festival : Should I not mourn , I could not pay the due , Of tears to her , or sympathy to you : For Death did flay you both , when she did dye , So who writes one's must write both's Elegy . She was too good for you , she was too high , A wife for Angels , to get Angels by : Whom you and all did love , and did suppose , To be an Angel in a mortal's cloaths : But Heaven to undeceive you let you know , By her mortality , she was not so .
XXVII . On the great cryer at Westminster-Hall . WHen the great Cryer in that greater room , Calls Faunt-le-roy , and Alex-and-er Brome . The people wonder ( as those heretofore , When the dumb spake ) to hear a Cryer roar . The killing crue of Cryers that do stand , with Eunuches voyces , squeaking on each hand , Do signifie no more , compar'd to him , Then Member Allen did to patriot Pim. Those make us laugh , while we do him adore ; Theirs are but Pistol , his mouth 's Canon-bore . Now those fame-thirsty spirits that endevour To have their names enlarg'd , and last for ever , Must be Atturneys of this Court , and so His voyce shall like fames lowdest trumpet blow Their names about the World , and make them last , While we can lend an ear , or he a blast ▪
XXXVIII . To the memory of that loyal Patriot Sir I. Cordel Kt. THus fell the grace and glory of our time , Who durst be good when goodness was a crime . ● Magistrate that justly wore his gown , While England had a King , or King a Crown ; But stoutly flung it off , when once he saw Might knock down right , and lust did justle law . His soul scorn'd a Democracy , and wou'd , No longer stay , then while the Kingdome stood ; And when that fled , his follow'd it , to be , Joyn'd to his King i' th Hieromonarchy ,
XXX . To his Mistress lodging in a room where the Skie was painted .

In 1642.

WHen ( my Diviner soul ) I did of late , In thy fair chamber , for thy presence wait , Looking aloft , ( Thou know'st my look is high , Else I 'd ne'r dare to court Thee ) I did spy . Sun , Moon , and Stars , by th' painters art appear At once all Culm'nant in one Hemisphere : My small Astrology made me suppose , Those Symptomes made the room prodigious . Old time , ( I thought ) was crampt and night and day , Both monosyllabled , to make me stay ; He 'd broke his steps of daies and hours that he Might rowle himself into Eternity . The Sun , as tyred , with the course he ran , Center'd himself in the Meridian : And 'cause 't was there , I could not think it night , Nor durst I call it day , 'cause 't gave no light : I found the cause , and ceased to admire ; Thy eyes had stoln his sight , my heart his fire : And that 's the cause why Sun and Moon look'd dim , Thy brighter face out luster'd her and him : But ( which increas'd my wonder ) I could see , No Meteor portend this prodigy ; Comets all wink'd at this , nor could I spy One Blazing-star , but my portentive eye : But as I mus'd , what Omen this should be , They all stood still , as much amaz'd at me : The wandring Planets had forgot to vary ; Gazing on me , because all stationary : Envying thy beauty , they 're together gon , To make a perfect constellation : And their conjunctions t' imitate our lips , Was but a loving kiss , not an Eclipse : Sol draws a Regiment of stars , to be Tapers to light thee into bed to me : Yet could not shine , until they were inspir'd By the same flames , by which my heart was fir'd . Come then lye down , do thou withdraw thy light , They 'l be , to please us , a perpetual night : Sol shall be Cupid , blind , and thou his mother , And as we 've marr'd one Sun , we 'l get another .
XXXI . A New-years-gift . THe season now requires a Man should send Some worthy present to his worthier Friend : And I ( though poor in purse ) do wear a heart , That is ambitious to perform a part In celebration of this new-born day ; And having nothing to present , I 'll pray , This year may be to me , as well as you , So much more blest then t'other , as more new . And in it so much happiness abound , To turn us all to good , yet not turn round . And may the Sun , that now begins t' appear I' th Horizon to usher in the year , Melt all those fatuous Vapours , whose false light Purblinds the World , and leads them from the right ; And may our Sol like that rise once again , Mounted triumphant in a prosperous raign : May all those Ph●tons that spite o' th crown , Would guide his Chariot , tumble head-long down : So shall the Land with happiness be crown'd , When men turn right , and only years turn round .
XXXII . On the Queens going beyond Se● . WHen on the watry World , our glorious Queen Gan to be toss'd ▪ as on the land sh' had been , The joyful waters did begin t' aspire , And would trans-element ▪ themselves to fire ▪ And ever since it has been hard to swear , Whether the Earth , or Water highest were . The late scorn'd Sea will now it self prefer , Bearing the best that earth could boast of ; Her , When first she lanch'd , th' ambitious ●aves no more Would kiss the lips of their oft-washed shore , But with united motion all did rise To bear the ship ; that her , to kiss the skies . The ship , like Noah's ark , did float about , And kept the waters that would enter , out : For were the world redrown'd , what good has been In it , in her Epitomiz'd is seen . The sturdy billows , if they did arise , Were check'd by th' power of her Majestick eyes : When ever any to rebel appears , For grief it did dissolve it self to tears ; The moving compass had forgot to stir , Instead o' th North-pole pointed still at her ; At which the Pilot wondering , he spies Two North-poles culminant at once , her eyes : No marvel then , the compass pointed thither , For her magnetick soul draws all things with her . The Ocean scorn'd Neptune's tridentine sway , And would no more a King but Queen obey : Nay Neptune thought she had a Venus been , Sprung from the frothy Sea to be his Queen ; And whispering Zephyrus , if he did stir , 'T was not to blow , but to suck breath from her ; The Mariners , when e'r she breathed , thought That precious Amber 'bout the ship did float . Widdow Arabia did begin to grieve , To see a Phaenix on the waters live . The Semi-lunar Dolphin having seen Her face , would straight salute her as the Queen . The amorous Syrens did altogether throng , Hoping t' entice her to them by a song . Her brow ( as though command were written there ) Did more sway them , then all their voyces her . The little fishes met and did rejoyce , Dancing to th' musick of the Syrens voyce : All in their several postures strove t' express How much her presence would their mansions bless : All praying her to stay , but all in vain , At length ( though loth ) they landed her again . The shoar's a Paradise , where she was driven . And ( but her Charles lack'd her ) it had been Heaven .
XXXIII . Upon his Mare stoln by a Trooper .

In 1644.

WHy let her go , I 'll vex my self no more , Lest my heart break , as did my stable door . 'T was but a Mare ; if she be gone , she 's gone ; 'T is not a Mare that I do stand upon . Now by this Cross I am so temperate grown , I 'll bridle nature , since my mare is gone . I have a little learning , and less wit ; That wealth is sure , no thief can pilfer it . Riches they say have wings , my Mare had so ; For though she had legs , yet she could hardly go : But thieves and fate have such a strong command , To make those go , which have no feet to stand . She was well skill'd in writing Elegies , And every mile writes , Here my Rider lies . Now since I 've ne'r a beast to ride upon , Wou'd I might never go , my verse shall run . I 'll mount on Pegasus , for he 's so poor , From thief or true-man , one may ride secure . I would not rack invention for a curse , To plague the Thief , for fear I make him worse : I would not have him hang'd , for that would be Sufficient for the law , but not for me . In charity I wish him no more pain , But to restore me home my Mare again . And 'cause I would not have good customes alter , I wish who has the Mare , may have the Halter .
XXXIV . Upon riding on a tyred Horse . 'T Was hot , and our Olympick Charioter , Limbeck'd the body of the Traveller ; Which to prevent , I like the Sun did go : He was on horse back , I on horse-back too : So on we go to view the desolation Of that half-plague to our distressed Nation : But my Horse was so superstitious grown , He would fall down , and worship every stone : Nay he in reverence to each holy place , Was often seen to fall upon his face . And had I been inclin'd to Popishness , I needed have no other cross but this : Within a mile or two , without command , Do what I could , this Jade would make a stand : I prais'd him , thinking glory were a spur To prick him on , all would not make him stir . All worldly things do post away we know , But yet my Horse would neither run nor go . What everlasting Creature should this be , That all things are less permanent then he ! So long I kick'd the people did suppose ▪ The arm-less man had beat a drum with 's toes : But though a march or an alar'm I beat , The sensless Horse took all for a retreat : The peoples jeers mov'd me to no remorse , No more then all my kicks did move my Horse : Had Phaetons horses been as mine is , They Needed no reyns , they 'ld never run away . I wish'd for old Copernicus to prove , That while we both stood still , the Earth would move ▪ Oh for an Earthquake , that the hills might meet , To bring us home , though we mov'd not our feet ! All would not do , I was constrain'd to be , The bringer up of a Foot Company . But now in what a woful case were I , If like our Troopers I were put to flie . I wish all cowards ( if that be too much ) Half of our Hosemen , which I 'll swear are such ; In the next fight when they begin to flee , They may be plagu'd with a tyr'd Horse like me .
XXXV . To his Friend I. B. THou thinkst that I to thee am fully known ; Yet thou 'lt not think how powerful I am grown : I can work miracles , and when I do Think on thy worth , think thee a wonder too : Thy constant love and lines in verse and prose , Makes me think thee and them miraculous . My self am from my self , both here and there I Suppose my self grown an Ubiquitary . We are a miracle , and 't is with us As with John Baptist and his Lazarus : I thou , and thou art I , and 't is a wonder , That we both live , and yet both live asunder : Come then , let 's meet agen ; for until we Unite , the times can't be at ●●ity . But if this distance must still interpose Between my eye and thee , yet let us close In mind , and though our necks by-forked grown , Spread-Eagle like , yet let our Breasts be one .
XXXVI . Translated out of Perseus . I Don't remember I did dip , In the Caballine spring my lip : Nor on two-top'd Pernassus sleep , That thence I should a Poet creep . The pale Pyrene and Helicon , I for those men will let alone , T'whose brows the rambling Ivyes cling ; Yet I a clown my verses bring To th' Muses altars . Who did shew The Parrat 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 , who the Crow Of old with hollow voyce to prate ? Or Pies our words to imitate ? Arts Master , Need , which wit bestows ; This Artist makes us come to those Words which our Nature us denies , Make Crowes turn Poets , and the Pies Turn Poetresses that can sing , Sweet verses from the Pegasean spring .
XXXVII . Upon the miscarrier of Letters betwixt his Friend and Him ; An Execration . ANd why to me ? dull scanner of the ground , Was there no other pack-horse to be found , To bear the weight of such a grand abuse But only I ? I 'll wake my sleeping Muse ; And send her post to th' black abyss of Hell , To fetch me curses , curses dyre and fell . I 'll mount on Pegasus , and make him go From Friend to Friend , as swift as thou art slow . Perfidious Traytor ! could thine impious hands Dare to miscarry , what true love commands ? Had it been news , or pamphlets , or the rude Inventions of the cock-brain'd multitude ; New models of Religion , or the false , Ly-legends which we here call Diurnals ; Had there been treason against the King or State , They deserv'd thine , and thou hadst scap'd my hate ▪ But these were embassies of souls that be So pure , they dare dispute with purity ; That will not club with treason , nor betroth , Their souls to schism , but are estrang'd from both ▪ Had they been complements , or th' adulterate froth Of ink-horn-wits , t' had ne'r incens'd my wroth . For 't is but reason such vain toyes as they are , Should be dissolv'd to their first matter , Air. Had they been meerly issues of the brain , And had been lost , that might to work again . But when the heart 's engag'd , what pity 't is A child of that should ever fare amiss ? Hadst thou but known how sweet those accents were , How full of love thou would'st have took more care . Why didst thou go to stop that blessed Trine , That was to be 'twixt their aspects and mine ? Do'st thou not know what good , what blest effects The Land will have from such benign aspects ? Alas when Mercury doth meet with Jove ; Lilly can tell thee their portents are love : I 'm loth to study for some new found curse , For fear I should be heard , and thou be worse . First for thy Horses , would their teeth may be Greas'd at each Inne , which none may help but me ▪ May all their old diseases never fail ; Their feet have scabs doubled for every nail , That thou may'st like Tom. Long for ever go , And ne'r come where thou art assign'd unto , And so may'st ne'r be trusted with a pack , Unless of plagues , and may those break thy back . May'st thou ne'r carry loyal letters more ? But Pockie-songs betwixt a Pimp and 's whore . But when th' sweat and travel'd all the day , May'st thou have neither meat , drink , bread nor pay ▪ May all the way be strew'd with Downes his men ; And thou escaping one , may'st meet with ten . And may they take thy horses and thy store , And bang thy sides because thou hast no more . May all these plagues unite that they may be As great a plague to thee , as thou to me .
XXXVIII . To his Mistress . YOur pardon Lady ; by my troth I erre , I thought each face a painted Sepulchre , That wore but beauty on 't ; I did suppose , That outward beauty had been ominous . And that ●● had been so opposite to wit , As it ne'r wisdome met , nor vertue it . Your face confutes me , and I do begin To know my errour , and repent my sin : For on those Rosie cheeks I plainly see , And read my former thoughts deformity . I could believe Hyperboles , and think That praise to low that flowes from pen and ink : That you 're all Angel ; when I look on you , I 'm forc'd to think the Rampant'st fictions true : Nay I dare swear ( though once I did abhor it ) That Men love Women , and have reason for it . The Lapidaries now shall learn to set Their Diamonds in Gold , and not in Jet . The Proverb 's cross'd , for now a man may find Abeauteous face i' th' Index of a mind . How I could praise you , and your worth display , But that my ravish'd pen is forc'd to stay : And when I think t' express your purer fashion , My expressions turn to stupid Admiration . Natures perfection ! She by forming thee ? Proves she has now infallibility : You 're an Enchiridion , whom Heav'n did print , To copy by , with no Errata in 't . You 're my Urania , nay within you be The Muses met in their Ter-trinity : Else how could I turn Poet , and retain My banish'd Muse into my thoughts again ! See what your wit , see what your beauty can ; T' make a Poet 's more then t' make a Man ; I've wit b'infusion , nay I 've beauty too , I think I 'm comely , if you think me so . Add to your vertues love , and you may be A wife for Jovs , pray let that Jove be me .
XXXIX . To his Mistress married to another . MArried ! and I not dead ! it cannot be ; Is nothing certain but uncertainty ? Can truth it self prove false ? I should as soon Have thought the Sun vary'd into a Moon ; And that the Poles that ne'r knew how to vary , Turn'd Planets now , and grow unstationary . But Sol has chang'd his course , and we all know , Those we call Poles , are Planetary too . You whom I thought a Goddess , now I see , Are but a woman , by inconstancy . See what the covetous love of wealth can do , It makes fair Ladies false and foolish too . I could be sorry now , or vext , or worse ; But wrath or sorrow will enlarge my curse : That anger 's foolish , and that sorrow 's vain , That 's us'd for that which can't be had again . But what 's this thing call'd marriage ? must you be Cloyster'd by that from all society ? Must only he enjoy you as a Bride ? And by his feast , famish the whole World beside ? You only did proclaim , when you did wed , That both together meant to go to bed : What need all this ado ? can't we ( my honey ) Do the same thing without the Ceremony , Or proclamation ? where two hearts agree , Marriage is but a superfluity . Nature did ne'r intend ( without all doubt ) T'hang such a Jewel only in his snowt : Nor were you made only for one Mans food ; Nor for the private , but the common good . You have my heart , and do but lend me thine , I 'll give the Priest the lye , and say th' art mine .
XL. On the turn-coat Clergy . THat Clergy-men are changeable , and teach That now 'gainst which they will to morrow preach Is an undoubted truth ; but that in this Their variation they do ought amiss , I stedfastly deny ; The World we see , Preserves it self by mutability : And by an imitation each thing in it Preserves it self by changing every minute ; The Heavenly Ortes do move , and change , & there 's The much admired musick of the spheres : The Sun , the Moon , the Stars do alwaies vary , The times turn round still , nothing stationary . Why then should we blame Clergy-men , that do , Because they 're Heav'nly , like the Heavens go ? Nay th' Earth it self , on which we tread ( they say ) Turns round and 's moving still ; then why not they ? Our bodies still are changing from our birth , Till they return to their first matter , Earth . We draw in air , and food , that air and food Incorporates , and turns our flesh and bloud : Then we breath out our selves in sweat , and vent Our flesh and bloud by use , and excrement , With such continual change , that none can say , He 's the same man that he was Yesterday . Besides , all Creatures cannot choose but be , By much the worse for their stability : For standing pools corrupt , while running springs Yield sweet refreshment to all other things . The highest Church-things oftenest change , we know , The weather-cock that stands o' th top does so : The bells when rung in changes best do please , The Nightingall , that minstrel of the trees , Varies her note , while the dull Cucko sings Only one note , no auditory brings . Why then should we admire our Levites change , Since 't is their nat'ral motion ? 'T is not strange To see a Fish to swim , or Eagle fly ; Nor is their Protean mutability , More worth our wonder , but 't is so in fashion , It merits our applause , and imitation . But I conclude , lest while I speak of change , I shall too far upon one subject range . And so become unchangeable , and by My practice , give my doctrine here the lye ,
XLI . To his Friend Mr. I. W. on his Translation of a Romance . FRom forain soyl He at the first did spring , Whom conquest crown'd , and custome kept our King ; And from the same , this fancy , whom this pen Has of an Alien made a Denizen . Dispute who dares : The issue of the brain Admits a transplantation , like the train That buds with Stars ; and in this do hit , The two fac Totums , Monarchy and wit . The industrious Merchant glutted with the things That are produced by our mother-springs , Ransacks the Ocean , trafficking for more And rarer beauties from the forain shore ; And makes our happiness not only be In necessaries , but variety . So thou with equal diligence hast gone , To fetch the merchandize of Helicon : Not but that wit and fancy here will be A Native and Staple commodity : Or that composing stories and Romances , Were only entayl'd to wits that live beyond Seas : But as in dearth , we oft supply our store , From those that we perhaps reliev'd before . So now when rare Inventions and immense , Are parch'd and shrunk up into hardly sense , For want of due rewards that shou'd distill From these new Tympanies , and we call hills , You 're fain to forage for what e'r must be , Beyond Diurnals , or a Mercury . Yet ben't discourag'd , for here 's no Excise , Nor custome paid on these commodities ; And he that trades in wit by Sea or Land , Needs not a convoy , fears no Rocks nor Sand. This traffick is secure against the thump Of Spains armado or the Belgick Trump , And the proceed on 't , though in this mad Nation , Is free from plunder , and from sequestration . I do commend thy choice too , for of all The Sciences , this is most cordial ; Presenting notions to the curious mind , Of what below we never see nor find . Herein do differ History , and this ; This shews what ought to be , that shews what is ; Ungrateful we , if that we should receive This precious Jewel , and should nothing give To Thee , or to its Author ; therefore I Offer these lines to both your memory , To testifie my thanks , though not my skill : What 's so well done , must not be praised ill : But I nick-name my duty , when I say I give , or offer , when I only pay .
XLII . A Satyre on the Rebellion . URge me no more to sing , I am not able To raise a note ; Songs are abominable : Yea David's Psalms do now begin to be Tun'd out of Church , by hymns extempore . No accents are so pleasant now as those That are Caesura'd through the Pastors nose . I 'll only weep our misery and ruth , I am no Poet , for I speak the truth . Behold a self against it self doth fight , And the left hand prevails above the right . The grumbling guts , i' th belly of the State , Unthankful for the wholsome food they ate ; Belch at their head , and do begin to slight The Cates , to which they had an appetite : They long for kickshawes , and new fangled dishes ; Not which all love , but which each fancy wishes . Behold a glorious Phoebus tumbling down , While the rebellious Bears usurp the Crown . Behold a Teem of Phaetons aspire To guide the Sun , and set the World on fire : All goes to wrack , and it must needs be so , When those would run , that know not how to go . Behold , a lawful Soveraign , to whose mind Dishonesty's a stranger , now confin'd . To the Anarchick pow'r of those whose reason Is flat Rebellion , and their truth is Treason . Behold the loyal Subjects pill'd and poll'd . And from Algier to Tunis bought and sold : Their Goods sequestred by a legal stealth , The private robb'd t' uphold the Common-wealth . And those the only plunderers are grown Of others States , that had none of their own . Robbers no more by night in secret go , They have a Licence now for what they do : If any to the Rulers do complain , They know no other godliness but gain : Nor give us any plaister for the sore Of paying much , but only paying more . What e'r we do or speak , how e'r we live , All is acquitted if we will but Give ; They sit in Bulwarks , and do make the lawes But fair pretences to a fowler cause , And Horse-leech-like cry give , what e'r they say , Or sing , the burden of their song is Pay . How wretched is that State ! how full of wo , When those that should preserve , do overthrow ! When they rule us , and o'r them money raigns , Who still cry Give , and alwaies gape for gains ! But on those Judges lies a heavy curse , That measure crimes by the Delinquents purse : The time will come when they do cease to live , Some will cry Take , as fast as they cry'd Give .
XLIII . On a pair of Virginals . DEath , that ties up the tongues of Man & Beast , And to each thing gives a Quietus est ; Gives me a tongue ; and I that could not be Blest with a voyce , now boast variety . The tale of Amphion , which could make each tree Dance to his musick , is fulfill'd in me . For lo the liveless Jacks lavaltoes take , At that sweet musick which themselves do make : The various-sounding strings in consort come , To make my narrow bulk Elizium ; Just Emblem of the State ; for in this wise , He just now falls . that but just now did rise . O would the Subjects in this Realm agree , And meet like strings to make one harmony !
XLVI . On a Comedy called The Passionate Lovers . THough I ne'r saw this Play , nor e'r did know The Author well , nor love with passion so , To be a dame for Terence Comoedie , Heautontim●rumeno● . But do suppose who e'r the lover be , That 's really such as the Poet writ , He 'ld have less love , if he had had more wit . Yet as th' old Topers , when their drinking 's gone , Do love to sit , and see the work go on : And as old men when their performance fails , Can clap their wings with telling smutty tales : So though we 've lost the life of playes the stage , If we can be Remembrancers to th' age . And now and then let glow a spark in print , To tell the World there 's fire still lodg'd i' th flint , We may agen b' enlightned once and warm'd , Men can't be civil till they be inform'd . Walk wisely on : Time's changeable , and what Was once thrown down , is now again reacht at . And we may see pleasure and honour crown The Stage , when inconsistent Tubs kick'd down .
XLV . To the High : Sheriff of S. Sir , YOu have giv'n us Poets entertainment , Good cheer and wine ; we give you Poets payment , Good words and Rhythme ; but you out-do us here ▪ You match our Rhythme ; but we can't match your cheer . And here 's the reason , which our Muses grieves , Sheriffs are made Poets , but ne'r Poets Sheriffs .
XLVI . To G. B. Esquire . I Promis'd to come to you Sir , 't is true , And I intended what I promis'd you . But Heaven ( that all things orders ) thought not fit We two should meet , and therefore hinder'd it : Not that our meeting had offensive been To God or Man , for we had sail'd between The dangerous rocks of company , which wits And no wits dash against , when in their fits , They scoffe at sacred matters , and blaspheme , Or make States-men or businesses their theame . But such a World of Heavenly drink came down , The flouds did rise and all the Countrey drown ; Men that had souls unswimable like mine , Float as drown'd Flies do in a glass of Wine . Horses and boots were useless , and you know , I have no hanging look ; and being so Fat , have the art of sinking , I was ne'r Bred 'mong the fish , nor e'r at Westminster , Saw any drown'd , though you and I both know , Some have been us'd as badly there , and though I use the feather 't is the tother end , Not that which me from drowning can defend ; This work 's for Saylors , not a land Attourney , For 't is become a voyage , not a journey . And he that goes to Ex'ter now from hence , From that exploit , may very well commence A Navigator ; which t' attempt I fear , And thought it safer to stay drinking here : And send you this from him that 's far more willing To write ten verses , then to pay one shilling .
XLVII . To his reverend Friend Dr. S. on his pious and learned Book . THe times are chang'd , and the misguided rout , Now tug to pull in , what they tumbled out : And with like eagerness , the factious crew , Who ruin'd all , are now expos'd to view : Their vizor's off , and now we plainly see Both what they are , and what they aim'd to be , And what they meant to do to us and ours , If either ours or we were in their pow'rs . That vip'rous brood of Levi who gnaw'd through Their mothers bowels , and their Fathers too , To break a passage to their lewd designes have found th' effects of all their under-mines ; And see themselves out-acted in their show , By sucking Sprouts , that out of them did grow . They 're now out - wink'd , out - fasted , and out - tongu'd , Their Pupils reap those fields which they had dung'd : Who split the Church into so many Schisms , The zeal of these eats others Patriarchisms : And Vermin-like they do that Corps devour , Whose putrefaction gave them life and pow'r : Now they repent ( though late ) and turn to you , Of the Old Church that 's constant , pure , and true . Thanks to such lights as you are , you have stay'd In that firm truth , from which they fondly stray'd , Endur'd reproach , and want , all violent shocks , Which rowl'd like Rillows , while you stood like Rocks , Unmov'd by all their fury , kept your ground , Fix'd as the Poles , whiles they kept twirling round : Submitted to all rage , and lost your all , Yet ne'r comply'd with , or bow'd knee to Baal . You preach'd for love of preaching , with desire T' instruct , and to reform , while pay and hire , Which made them preach , were ●a'n away from you ; You still strove on , and led the people through That Wilderness of errour , into which Those Ignes fatui , tempted by the itch Of Pride and change had led them , when the Times Envying your worth , voted your Sermons crimes ; And made it Treason to relieve or hear you ; And constituted to affront and jeer you ; Those Patentees of graces and good livings , Grown rich with fees , & fat with full thanksgivings ; Who rowl'd a stone upon your mouths for fear Truth would find out a resurrection there : Then from the press you piously did shew What , why , and how , we should believe and know ; And pray and practice ; made it out to us , Why our Church-Institutes were these and thus ; And how we ought t' observe them , so that we May find them that , which of themselves they be , Commands and comforts : This Sir we do find Perform'd by this rare issue of your mind : Your pious and your profitable lines , Which can't be prays'd by such a pen as mine 's , But must b' admir'd and lov'd , and you must be For ever thank'd and honour'd too by me , And all that know or read you ; since you do Supply the pious and the learned too . So well , that both must say , to you they ow What good they practise , and what good they ( know .
XLVIII . To Colonel Lovelace on his Poems . SO through the Chaos crept the first-born ray , That was not yet grown up to be a day , And form'd the World ; as do your powerful rhythmes , Through the thick darkness of these Versless times : These antingenius daies , this boy strous age , Where there dwels nought of Poetry but rage : Just so crept learning forth the rav'nous fire Of the Schismatick Goths and Vandals ire : As do in these more barbareus daies our times , When what was meant for ruine , but refines . Why may n't we hope for Restauration , when ●● ancient Poets Towns , the new raise men ; The tale of Orpheus and Amphion be Both solid truths with this Mythology ? For though you make not stones and trees to move ; Yet men more sensless you provoke to love . I can't but think , spite of the filth that 's hurl'd Over this small Ench'ridion of the World , A day will break , when we again may see Wits like themselves , club in an Harmony : Though Pulpiteers can't do it , yet 't is fit Poets have more success , because more wit . Their Prose unhing'd the State ; why may'nt your ( verse Polish those souls , that were fil'd rough by theirs ? Go on , and prosper ; though I want your skill , In weighty matters 't is enough to will . And now the Reader looks I should help rear Your glories Trophy , else what make I here ? 'T is not to praise you ; for one may as well Go tell Committees that there is an Hell ; Or tell the World there is a Sun ; as praise Your amorous fancy , which it self can't raise 'Bove Envies reach or flatteries ; Ladies love To kiss those accents ; who dares disapprove What they stile good ? our lines , our lives and all , By their opinions either rise or fall : Therefore the cause why these are fixed here , Is livery-like to shew some great man's near : Let them stand bare , and usher , not commend ; They are not for Encomiums , but t' attend .
XLIX . To his Friend Thomas Stanley , Esq on his Odes Set and Published by Mr. John Gamble . STanley the Darling of Apollo , thou That mak'st at once both Verse and Musick too ; So sweet a Master of so sweet a Muse , Whom not to name with honour , were t' abuse . How thy words flow ! How sweetly do they Chyme , When thy pure Couplets do imbrace in Rhyme ! How quick , how lovely , and how full of Sence Thy Fancy is , and all that springs from thence ! Which Gamble has enliv'ned by his Art , And breath ' an Active Soul through every part : And so deduc'd thy Mind to us , that we May feast our Ears and Souls with rarity . How much to Thee , how much to Him we owe , We can conceive , but cannot make you know ; Nor have we thanks proportion'd to your worth , Thou that didst make , and He that set them forth , In such a lively Dress too , We admire What we cann't praise , what we cann't do , Desire ; And therefore turn our praises into prayers , That Thou 'lt make more such Odes , He more such ( Ayres .
I. On the famous Romance , called The innocent Impostor . 'T Will be expected now that I should raise Some Monument unto the Author's praise , The Works , or the Translators ; else I fear , The Reader 'll wonder what I do make here . 'T is grown Apocryphal , and by the Wits Quite voted down ; Who hold it not befits A true-born Fancy , to be Smith-field-wise Put off with Toll and Vouch●rs ; this defies Such Cru●ches ; for 't is of so clear a Nature , 'T will pass without the Chaplains Imprimatur , Or our Certificates : Besides I carry Such a dislike to all things Customary , I 'll cheat all expectation , and will be Thankful to them , but chiefly unto thee . In these Self-ended times we only do , Or thank or praise those we 're beholding to : So call our Justice Charity , and say We do bestow , when we do only pay : For though the work be rare ; yet should it be Still in its dress , what had it been to me ? And though translated by this worthy pen , If not exposed to the view of Men , I had ne'r seen 't perhaps , But since all three Have clubb'd in this production , I must be Grateful to all , and to give all your right , Must praise , and love , and thank Bellay , Dod , Wright .
LI. On Dr. J. his divine Romant . HOw rare ! how truly noble's this designe , To make us fall in love with things Divine ! And raise our passions with such pious flames , To court those truths , which lay disguis'd in names Perplex'd and crabbed , and did heretofore L●e undiscovered in their sullen Ore ; And seem'd unamiable to the sense , 'Cause unattainable but by th' expence Of undelightsome labour and much time . This new invention expiates the crime , Which did too much adhere to youthful love , Directs the soul to doat on things above ; And consecrates th' affections to extend Their violent motion to their proper end . The ravish'd Puipit , which of late was made A place , not of instruction but of trade ; Where Higlers in Divinity did sell Salvation to us , and made heaven and hell At their disposal , and the way to bliss , More hard and crabbed then it ought or is ; And did advance the people , or condemn To this or that , just as we humour'd them : Made some those heavenly dishes to derest And loath , 'cause they so nastily were drest . But this ingenuous Author makes that food Delightsome to the taste as well as good ; And with such flowers the paths to virtue strews , That the dull soul to heav'n delighted goes . What love , what praise , what great reward is fit To his great worth , who with C●lestial wit , Informs and sanctifies our minds , and brings Our souls above these low terrestrial things ! A crown of Stars must deck his learned brow , The lawrel Garland's too unworthy now .
LII . On the loss of a Garrison . ANother City lost ! Alas poor King ! Still future griefs from former griefs do spring . The World 's a seat of change ; Kingdoms and Kings , Though glorious , are but sublunary things : Crosses and blessings kiss ; there 's none that be So happy , but they meet with misery . He that ere while sate centred to his Throne , And all did homage unto him alone ; Who did the Scepter of his power display From pole to pole , while all this rule obey , From stair to stair now tumbles , tumbles down , And scarce one pillar doth support his Crown . Town after Town , are lost Field after Field , This turns , and that persidiously doth yield : He 's banded on the trayterous tongues of those That Janus like , look to him and his foes . In vain are Bulwarks and the strongest Hold , If the besiegers bullets are of gold : My soul be not dejected ; wouldst thou be From present trouble , or from danger free ? Trust not in rampires , nor the strength of walls ; The town that stands to day , to morrow falls : Trust not in Souldiers , though they seem so stout ; Where sin 's within , vain is defence without . Trust not in wealth , for in this lawless time Where prey is penalty , there wealth is crime : Trust not in strength or courage ; we all see The weak'st oft-times do gain the victory : Trust not in honour , honour 's but a blast , Quickly begun , and but a while doth last . They that to day to thee Hosanna cry , To morrow change their note for Crucisie : Trust not in friends , for friends will soon deceive thee ; They are in nothing sure , but sure to leave thee : Trust not in wits ; who run from place to place Changing Religion as chance does her face , In sp●te of cunning , and their strength of brain , They 're often catch'd and all their plots are vain : Trust not in Councels Potentates , or Kings ; All are but frail and transitory things . Since neither Souldiers , Casties , wealth , or wit , Can keep off harm from thee , or thee from it : Since neither strength nor honour , friends nor Lords , Nor Princes , peace or happiness affords , Trust thou in God , ply him with prayers still , Be sure of help ; for he both can , and will .
LIII . Upon the Kings imprisonment . IMprison me you Traytors ? must I be Your fetter'd slave , while you 're at liberty T' usurp my Scepter , and to make my power Gnaw its own bowels , and it self devour ? You glorious villains ! Treasons that have been Done in all ages , are done o'r agen ; Expert proficients , that have far out-done Your Tutors Presidents , and have out-run The practise of all times , whose acts will be Thought Legendary by Posterity . Was 't not enough you made me bear the wrong of a rebellious sword , and viprous tongue , To lose my State , my Children , Crown , and Wife ; But must you take my liberty and life ? Subjects can find no fortress but their graves , When servants sway , and Soveraigns are slaves : 'Cause I 'll not sign , nor give consent unto Those lawless actions that you 've done and do , Nor yet betray my Subjects , and so be As treacherous to them , as you to me : Is this the way to mould me to your wills , To expiate former crimes by greater ills ? Mistaken fools to think my soul can be Grasp'd or infring'd by such low things as ye ! Alas though I 'm immur'd , my mind is free , I 'll make your very Gaol my liberty . Plot , do your worst , I safely shall deride In my Crown'd soul , your base inferiour pride , And stand unmov'd , though all your plagues you ( bring , I 'll dye a Martyr , or I 'll live a King .
LIV. On the Death of King CHARLES . HOw ! dead ! nay murdred ! not a Comet seen ! Nor one strange prodigy to intervene ! I 'm satisfy'd ; heaven had no sight so rare ; Nor so prodigious as his murtherers are , Who at this instant had not drawn the air , Had they not been preserv'd b'his Funeral Pray'r . And yet who looks aright , may plainly spy The Kingdom 's to it self a prodigy ; The scatter'd stars have joyn'd themselves in one , And have thrown Phoebus head long from his throne . They 'ld be the Sun themselves , and shine , and so By their joynt blaze inflame the world below , Which b●●imitation does t' a Chaos fall , And shake it self t' an Earth-quake general . And 't is the height of miracle that we Live in these wonders , yet no wonders see . Nature groan'd out her last when he did fall , Whose influence gave quickning to us all : His soul was anthem'd out in prayers , and those Angel-like Hallelujahs sung in prose , David the second , we no difference knew Between th' old David's spirit and the new : In him grave wisdome so with grace combines , As Solomon were still in David's loynes : And had he lived in K. David's time , H' had equal'd him in all things but his crime . Now since you 'r gone , great P. this care we 'l have , Your books shall never find a death or grave ; By whose diviner flame , the world must be Purg'd from its dross , and chang'd to purity ; Which neither time nor treason can destroy ; Nor ign'rant Error that 's more fell then they . A piece like some rare picture , at remove , Shews one side Eagle , and the other Dove : Sometimes the Reason in it soars so high , It shews affliction quells not majesty , Yet still Crown , dignity , and self deny'd , It helps to bear up courage , though not pride ; Trodden humility in robes of state , Meekly despising all the frowns of fate . Your Grandsire K. that shew'd what good did flow , From the tall Cedar to the shrub below . By violent flame to ashes though calcin'd , His soul in t' you we transmigrated find ; Whose leafs shall like the Cybels be ador'd , When time shall open each prophetick word : And shall like Scripture be the Rule of good To those that shall survive the flaming flood : Whose syllables are Libraries , and can Make a small volume turn a Vatican . So th' hunted B●zoar when he 's sure to dye , Bequeaths his cordials to his enemy . Rest Royal dust , and thank the storms that drove Against their will you to your haven above . They have but freed you from those waves that curl'd Their bloudy power to drown this boistrous world : They 've but chang'd Throne for throne , and Crown for Crown ; You took a glorious , laid a thorny down . You sit among your Peers with Saints and Kings , View how we plot for sublunary things ; And labour for our ruine ; you did fall Just like our Saviour , for the sins of all , And for your own ; for in this impious time , Virtue 's a vice , and piety's a crime . The sum of all whose faults being understood , Is this , We were too bad , and you too good ,
LV. On the Kings Death . WHat means this sadness ? why does every eye Wallow in tears ? what makes the lowring sky Look clouded thus with sighs ? is it because The great Defender of the Faith and Laws , Is sacrificed to the barbarous rage , Of those prodigious Monsters of our age ? A prey to the insatiate will of those That are the Kings and Kingdoms cursed foes ! 'T is true , there 's cause enough each eye should be a Torrent , and each man a Niobe , To see a wise , just , valiant , temperate man Should leave the World , who either will or can Abstain from grief ? To see a Father dye , And his half-self , and Orphans weeping by : To see a Master dye , and leave a State Unsetled , and Usurpers gape to ha 't . To see a King dissolve to 's mother dust , And leave his headless Kingdome to the lust , And the ambitious wills of such a rout , Which work its end , to bring their own about ; 'T is cause of sorrow ; but to see thee slain , Nay murdred too , makes us grive o'r again : But to be kill'd by Servants , or by Friends ; This will raise such a grief as never ends : And yet we find he that was all these things , And more , the best of Christians and of Kings , Suffer'd all this and more , whose sufferings stood So much more great then these , as he more good . Yet 't is a vain thing to lament our loss ; Continued mourning adds but cross to cross . What 's past can't be recall'd ; our sadness may Drive us to him , but can't bring him away ; Nor can a Kingdomes cries re-state the Crown Upon his head , which their sins tumbled down . Rest then my soul , and be contented in Thy share of sufferings , as well as sin : I see no cause of wonder in all this , But still expect such fruits of wickedness . Kings are but Earth refin'd ; and he that wears A Crown , but loads himself with griefs and fears : The World it self to its first nothing tends ; And things that had beginnings , must have ends . Those glorious lamps of Heav'n , that give us light , Must at the last dissolve to darkness quite . If the Coelestial Architectures go To dissolution , so must earthy too . If ruine seize on the vast frame of nature , The little World must imitate the greater : I 'll put no trust in wealth , for I do see Fate can take me from it , or it from me : Trust not in honour , 't is but peoples cry , Who 'll soon throw down what e'r they mounted high : Nor trust in friends ; he that 's now hedg'd about , In time of need can hardly find one out : Nor yet in strength or power ; for sin will be The desolation of my strength and me : Nor yet in Crowns and Kingdomes ; who has all , 's expos'd to a heavy though a royal fall . Nor yet in wisdome , policy , or wit ; It cannot keep me harmless , or I it : He that had all man could attain unto , He that did all that wit or power could do ; Or grace or virtue prompt , could not avoid That sad and heavy load our sins have laid Upon his innocent and sacred Head , but must Submit his person to bould Rebels lust ; And their insatiate rage , who did condemn And kill him , while he pray'd and dy'd for them . Our only trust is in the King of Kings , To wait with patience the event of things ; He that permits the Fathers tumbling down , Can raise , and will , the Son up to the Crown : He that permits those traytors impious hands , To murther his anointed , and his Lands To be usurp'd , can when he sees it fit , Destroy those Monsters which he did permit ; And by their head-long and unpitied fall , Make the Realms Nuptial of their Funeral . Mean time that Sainted Martyr from his throne , See's how these laugh , and his good subjects groan ; And hugs his blessed change , whereby he is Rob'd in t' a Crown , and murther'd into a bliss .
LVI . A Funeral Elegy . GOn are those Halcyon daies , when men did dare Do good for love , undrawn by gain or fear ; Gon are our Heroes whose vast souls did hate Vice , though 't were cloath'd in sanctity or state ; Gon is our A●brey who did then take's time To dye , when worthy men thought life a crime ; One whose pure soul with nobleness was fill'd , And scorn'd to live when peace & truth were kill'd ; One , who was worthy by descent and birth , Yet would not live a burthen on the earth ; Nor draw his honour from his Grandsires name , Unless his progeny might do the same : No guilded Mammon , yet had enough to spend , To feed the poor , and entertain his friend : No gaping Miser whose desire was more T' enrich himself , by making's neighbour poor , Then to lay out himself , his wealth and health , To buy his Countreys good and Common-wealth . Religion was his great delight and joy , Not as 't is now to plunder and destroy ; He lean'd on those two pillars , faith and reason ; Not false Hypocrisie , nor headlong Treason : His piety was with him bred and grown ; He 'ld build ten Churches , e'r he 'ld pull down one : Constant to 's principles ; and though the times Made his worth sin , and his pure vertues crimes ; He stood unmov'd , spite of all troubles hurl'd , And durst support , but not turn with the World . Call'd to the Magistracy , he appear'd One that desir'd more to be lov'd then fear'd : Justice and Mercy in him mingled so , That this flew not too high , nor that too low : His mind could not be carved worse or better , By mean mens flattery , nor by great mens letter : Nor sway'd by Bribes , though profer'd in the dark , He scorn'd to be half Justice , and half Clerk ; But all his distributions ev'nly ran , Both to the Pesant , and the Gentleman : He did what nature had design'd him to , In his due time , while he had strength to do : And when decay and age did once draw nigh , He 'd nothing left to do but only dye : And when he felt his strength and youth decline , His bodies loss strength'ned his souls design : And as the one did by degrees decay , T'other ran swifter up the milkie way . Freed from those sicknesses that are the pages Attending Natures sad decay and ages , His spotless soul did from his body fly , And hover in the heav'nly Galaxy , Whence he looks down , and lets the living see , What he was once , and what we ought to be .
LVII . Upon the Death of that Reverend and learned Divine , Mr. Josias Shute . TUsh , tush ● he is not dead ; I lately spy'd One smile at 's first-born Sons birth ; and a bride Into her heart did entertain delight At the approach of her wish'd wedded night : All which delights ( if he were dead ) would turn To grief ; yea mirth it self be forc'd to mourn . Inspired Poets would forget to laugh , And write at once his and Mirths Epitaph . Sighs would engross our breath , there would appear Anthems of joy , lymbeck'd into a tear : Each face would be his death-bed ; in each eye , 'T were easie then to read his Elegy ; Each soul would be close-mourner , each tongue tell Stories prick'd out to 'th tune o' th Passing bell ; The World re-drown'd in tears , each heart would be a Marble-stone , each stone a Niobe . But he alass is gone , nor do we know , To pay for loss of him deserving wo ; Like Bankrupts in our grief , because we may Not half we owe him give , we 'l nothing pay : For should our tears like the Ocean issue forth , They could not swell adaequate to his worth : So far his worth 's above our knowledge , that We only know we 've lost , we know not what . The mourning Heaven , beholding such a dearth Of tears , showrs rain to liquifie the earth , That we may see from its adulterate womb , If it be possible , a second come : Till then 't is our unhappiness , we can't Know what good dwelt in him , but by the want . He was no whirlegig Lect'rer of the times , That from a heel-block to a Pulpit climbs ; And there such stuff among their Audients break , They seem to have mouth , and words , yet cannot speak : Nor such as into Pasqnil Pulpits come With thundering non-sense , but to beat the Drum To Civil Wars ; whose Texts and Doctrines run , As if they were o' th separation : And by their spiritual law have marry'd been Without a ring , because they were no kin : Knowledge and zeal , in him so sweetly met , His Pulpit seem'd a second Olivet ; Where from his lips he would deliver things , As though some Seraphin had clap'd his wings : His painful Sermons were so neatly dress'd , As if an Anthem were in prose express'd : Divinity and Art were so united , As if in him both were Hermophradited . Oh what an ex'llent Surgeon has he been , To Set a conscience ( out of joynt by sin ; ) He at one blow could wound and heal ; we all Wondred to see a purge , a cordial : His Manna-●reathing Sermous often have Given all our good thoughts life , our bad a grave . Satan , and Sin , were never more put to 't , Then when they met with their still-conquering Shute : His life was the use of 's doctrine ; so 't was known That Shute , and Saint , were convertible grown : He did live Sermons ; the Prophane were vext To see his actions comments on his Text : So imitable his vertues did appear As if each place to him a Pulpit were : He was himself a Synod , ours had been Void ( had he liv'd ) or but an idle dinn : His Presence so divine , that Heaven might be ( If it were possible ) more Heavenly . And now we well perceive with what intent Death made his soul become non-resident : 'T was to make him ( such honours to him given ) Regius Professor to the King of Heaven : By whom he 's prelated above the skies , And the whole World 's his See t'Episcopize : So that ( me think ) one Star more doth appear In our Horizon , since his being there ; Death's grown tyrannical by imitation , 'Cause he was learned , by a sequestration He took his living ; butfor 's Benefice He is rewarded with eternal bliss . Let'a all prepare to follow him , for hee 's But gone to Glory ' School , to take degrees .
LVIII . To the memory of Doctor Hearn , who dyed September , 15. 1644. SAd Spectacle of grief ! how frail is Man ! Whose self 's a bubble , and his life a span ! Whose breath 's like a careering shade , whose sun Begins to set , when it begins to run . Lo this Mans sun sets i' th Meridian ; And this man's sun , speaks him the son of Man . Among the rest that come to sacrifice To 's memory the torrents of their eyes ; I though a stranger , and though none of those That weep in rhythme , though I oft mourn in prose : Sigh out some grief , and my big-belly'd eyes , Long for delivery at his obsequies : For he that writes but truth of him , will be , Though without art , slander'd with poesie : And they that praise him right in prose or verse , Will by the most be thought Idolaters . Men are incredulous ; and yet there 's none Can write his worth in verse , but in his own . He needs no other monument of fame , But his own actions , to blaze out his name . He was a glory to the Doctors Gown ; Help to his Friends , his Countrey , and his Town : The Atlas of our health , who oft did groan For others sickness , e'r he felt his own : Hippocrates , and Galen , in his brain , Met as in Gemini ; it did contain A Library of skill , a panoply , A Magazine of ingenuity : With every Art his brain so well was mated , As if his fancy had been calculated For that Meridian ; he none would follow , But was in skill the Britannish Apollo : His Patients grow impatient , and the fears Of death , lymbeck'd their body into tears . The widow'd Muses do lament his death ; Those that wrote mirth , do now retract their breath , And breath their souls in sighs ; each strives to be No more Thalia , but Melpomene : He stood a Champion in defence of health , And was a terrour to death's Common-weaith : His Esculapian art revok'd their breath , And often gave a non-suit unto death . Now we 've a rout , death kills our General , Our griefs break forth , grow Epidemical . Now we must lay down arms , and Captives turn To death ; man has no rampire but an urn : In him death gets an University ; Happy the bodies that so neer him lye , To hear his worth and wit , 't is now no fear To dye , because we meet a Hearne there . Earth-quakes , and Cemets usher great mens fall , At his we have an Earth-quake General ; Th' ambitious vallies do begin t' aspire , And would confront the Mountains , nay be higher ; Inferior orbes aspire , and do disdain Our Sol ; each Bear would ride in Charles his wain : Our Moon 's eclips'd , and th' Occidental Sun Fights with old Aries for his Horizon : Each petty Star gets horses , and would be All Sols , and joyn to make a prodigie . All things are out of course , which could not be , But that we should some eminent death foresee . Yet let 's not think him dead who ne'r shall dye , Till time be gulf'd in vast eternity : 'T is but his shadow that is past away ; While he 's eclips'd in earth , another ▪ day His better part shall pierce the skies , and shine In glory 'bove the Heavens Chrystaline . We could not understand him , he 's gone higher To read a Lecture to an Angels Quire : He is advanced up a higher Story , To take 's degrees i' th upper Form of glory : He is our Prodrome , gone before us whither We all must go , though all go not to gether : Dust will dissolve to dust , to earth ; earth are all men ; And must all dye , none knows how , where , nor when .
LIX . An Elegy on the death of his School-master , Mr. W. H. MUst he dye thus ? has an eternal sleep Seiz'd on each muse , that it can't sing nor weep ? Had he no friends ? no merits ? or no purse To purchase mourning ? or had he that curse Which has the scraping worldling still frequented , To live unlov'd and perish unlamented ? No , none of these ; but in this Atlas fall , Learning for present found its funeral : Nor was 't for want of grief , but scope and vent ; Not sullenness , but deep astonishment ; Small griefs are soon wept out ; but great ones come With bulk , and strike the straight lamenters dumb . This was the School-master that did derive From parts and piety's prerogative , The glory of that good , but painful art ; Who had high learning yet an humble heart . The Drake of Grammer learning , whose great pain , Circled that globe , and made that voyage plain . Time was , when th' artless p●dagogue did stand With his vimineous Scepter in his hand , Raging like Bajazet o'r the tugging fry ; Who though unhors'd were not of th' infantry ; Applying , like a glister , hic haec hoc , Till the poor Lad's beat to a whipping-block ; And school'd so long to know a Verb and Nown , Till each had Propria mari●us of his own : As if not fit to learn As in prasenti ; But legally , when they were one and twenty . Those few that went to th' Univers'ties then , Went with deliberation , and were men ; Nor were our Academies in those daies Fill'd with chuck-farthing Batchelors and boyes , But Scholars with more beard and age went hence , Then our new Lapwing-Lectures skip from thence . By his industrious labour , now we see Boyes coated born to th' University , Who suck'd in Latine , and did scorn to seek Their scourge and top in English but in Greek : Hebrew , the general puzler of old heads , Which the gray dunce with pricks and comments reads , And dubs himself a Scholar by it , grew As natural t' him as if he 'd been a Jew . But above all , he timely did inspire His Scholars breasts with an aetherial fire : And sanctify'd their early learning so , That they in grace , as they in wit did grow : Yet neither 's grace nor learning could defend him From that mortality that did attend him ; Nor can there now be any difference known , between his learned bones , and those with none . For that grand Lev'ler death hurles to one place , Rich , poor , wise , foolish , noble , and the base . This only is our comfort and defence , He was not immaturely ravish'd hence . But to our benefit , and to his own , Undying fame and honour , let alone , Till he had finish'd what he was to do , Then naturally split himself in two . And that 's one cause he had so few moyst eye● , He made men learned , and that made them ●ise , And over-rule their passions , since they see Tears would but shew their own infirmitie : And 't is but loving madness to deplore The fate of him , that shall be seen no more : But only I cropt in my tender years , Without a tongue , or wit , but sighs and tears ; And Yet I come to offer what is mine , An immolation to his honour'd shrine ; And retribute what he confer'd on me , Either to 's person , or his memory . Rest pious soul , and let that happy grave That is intrusted with thy Relicks have This just inscription , That it holds the dust Of one that was Wise , Learned , Pious , Just.
LX. An Epitaph . IF beauty , birth , or friends , or virtue cou'd Preserve from putrefaction flesh and bloud , This Lady had still liv'd ; and had all those , And all that Nature , Art or Grace bestowes . But death regards not bad or good ; All that 's mortal is his food . Only here our comfort lyes , Though death does all sorts confound , Her better part surmounts the skies , While her Body sleeps i' th ground . Her soul returns to God , from whom it came , And her great virtues do embalm her name .
LXI . An Epitaph upon Mrs. G. WHo ever knows or hears whose sacred bones Rest here within these monumental stones ; How ●ear a mother , and how sweet a wife , If he has bowels , cannot for his life , But on her ashes must some tears distill , For if men will not weep , this marble will .
EPIGRAMS Translated .
I. On Rome . TRav'ller , thou look'st for old Rome in the new , And yet in Rome , thou nought of Rome canst view . Behold the frame of walls , dis-joynted stone , And the vast Theatre , that 's overthrown ; Lo here 's Romes carkass still ; thou may'st behold How the new Rome is threatned by the old . Learn hence the power of fate , fix'd things decay , But that that 's alwaies toss'd & mov'd , does stay .
II. On a Quarreller . A Humorous fellow in a Tavern late , Being drunk and valiant , gets a broken pate ; The Surgeon with his instruments and skill , Searche● his skull deeper , and deeper still , To feel his brains , and tries if those were sound , And as he keeps ●d● about the wound , The fellow cryes , Good Surgeon spare the pains ; When I began this brawl , I had no brains .
III. On a Lover . WHat various griefs within my breast do grow ? I burn , yet from my flames my tears do flow . I 'm Nile , and Aetna both together grown , For the same grief does both enflame and drown . O let my tears , make my strong flames expire , Or let my tears be drunk up by my fire .
IV. On Gold . IN vain was Danae clos'd in brazen Tower , No brazen fort keeps out a golden showre .
V. To a Friend . THou sent'st me Wine , I 'd too much Wine before ; Send thirst , if thou would'st send to plea●● me more .
VI. On Alexander . GRreat Alexander thought the World too smal , Which he with 's warlike hand subdu'd and beat . But did not he himself most little call ? He in a little World could not be great .
VII . On a Bankrupt . A Bankrupt heard a Thief enter by stealth His house by night , and search about for 's wealth . In vain ( quoth he ) thou look'st for goods by night , For I my self can see none when 't is light .
VIII . On a Priest and a Thief . A Priest did with a thief together come , To th' place where he was to receive his doom ; Said ; be not sad , do but believe , and thou Shalt be a guest , to feast with Angels now . He sigh'd , and said ; if you 'll true comfort shew , Go then and take my place , I 'll stay below . No , quoth the Priest , this day I keep a fast , And cannot eat until this day be past .
IX . On Love and Death . LOve once and Death chang'd weapons , & Death took Loves fiery dart , while Cupid got Death's hook . Love at the body , Death at th' mind lets fly , This makes old men to love , and young men dye .
X. On Women . WOmen are pleasant evils , and they have Two proper seasons , when in bed or grave .
XI . On the Wolf Sentenc'd . THe Countrey people once a Wolf did take , That of their Sheep & Lambs did havock make ▪ Some voted that he should be crucifi'd ; Others would have him in the fire be fry'd : Some , to be hew'd in pieces with a sword , And to be thrown to dogs to be devour'd : Among the rest , one whom unlucky fate Had doom'd to th' troubles of a married State , ( The common lot of men ) oh ? Friends ( sayes he ) Lay by your forks , and ropes , that knotty be ; The sword , the fire , the guns , the cross , the whip● , Are but slight tortures , I have one out-strips , All those , if you would punish him to th' life , Fit for his crimes , then let him wed a wife .
XII . On one more learned then others . THou mak'st thy self more learned then thy better● , And brag'st thou know'st Greek , Hebrew , Latine letters . Thou hast them in thy fore-head , and thy hand , As if th' hadst all the tongues at thy command ; For the executioner has made thee more Letter'd by far then thou wert e'r before .
XIII . On Galla. BLame not fair Galla that she 'ld married be , ( Though she be fair ) to one that could not see : For in that thing in which she took delight , And which he lov'd , there is no need of sight .
XIV . On one Lowsie and Poor . A Lowsie fellow once was ask'd , how he Having so many cattel , poor could be ? He answered hence proceeds my poverty , Though I 'ld sell all for nought , yet none would buy .
XV. A happy Death . LEarn to live well , if thou 'ldst dye happily ; And that thou may'st live happy , learn to dye .
XVI . On Nero. WHen bloudy Nero his own mother slew , He did not hurt her face , or eyes , 't is true ; But ripp'd her bowels up ; 't was justly done , They'd guilt enough in breeding such a Son .
XVII . On Love . LOve is a Merchandize , and Venus drove The first Monopoly ; Rich only Love : What cannot fortune hire alas for gold ? When Gods themselves for this are bought and sold ?
XVIII . Rules of Drinking . IF the Philosopher sayes true , the first Draught ' is refeshment unto them that thirst ; The second , mirth and wit doth still afford ; But perfect drunkenness issues from the third . If to these rigid rules you 'l me confine , Hence glasses ; I 'll in flagons drink my Wine .
XIX . A vain Beastor . THou need'st not boast , cause thou afore does go , If that be honour , my dog does so too .
XX. To Momus . THou call'st me begger , Momus , and dost tell I must not triumph so , nor so much swell , Because I have but little ; and yet that Is not my own , but other Mens Estate : Why shouldst thou thus upbraid me with my want ? Must I be blam'd because my fortunes scant ? I 'm honest still ; thou liv'st by theft alone ; Between us two the difference is none ; For both of us on others bread do dine ; Only thou steal'st thy meat , I beg for mine .
XXI . On Phillis Tears . WHen Phillis comes t' her husbands grave , she brings No garlands , nor with Odorif'rous things Sprinkles the ground : only her tears doth shed Upon the grave , wherein her joy was laid . The flowers do straight spring up , as if she had power To ripen with her eyes , and moysten with her showre .
XXII . On a proud Fool● THou call'st me ignorant ; 't is true ; but how , If I know more then Socrates did know ? He knew one thing , that he did nothing know ; I know two things , that I know nought , nor thou .
XXIII . On Time . OUr joyful years do pass too soon away , A minutes grief seems an eternal day .
XXIV . On a blind , and lame Beggar . HOw happily fate hath together joyn'd , Two feeble men , one lame , and t' other blind● ! The blind Man bears the lame , the lame supplies By his direction , t' other's want of eyes . See what the iron power of need can do , It makes the blind to see , the lame to go .
XXV . On a Spartan Lady . A Spartan Lady bravely stew her son , Because she saw him from the battail run ; Thou canst not be ( quoth she ) a Spartan known , Unless thy valiant mind declare thee one .
XXVI . On Philip of Macedon . JOve , shut the gates of heav'n , for Philip sayes , He 'l enter it ; since earth and sea obeys His powerful scepter , there is left no room On earth for him , he must to heaven come .
XXVII . The Answer . I Will not though I may , shut heaven gates , Nor do I care for Philip , or his threats : If Earth and Sea his scepter do obey , The way to Heaven 's too narrow , Hell 's his way .
XXVIII . Frugality . USe thy Estate , as if thou 'ldst dye to day , Yet spare thy Estate as if thou 'ldst live for ay : He 's truly wise who whe'r he spend or spare , Observes the mean , and does extreams forbear .
XXIX . On two Wives . I Blame him not , who having one wife had , Another seeks ; the last was good or bad ; If good , he hopes there are of such good store ; If bad , he hopes , he shall haue such no more .
XXX . On a Murtherer . A Flying Murtherer lay beneath a wall That was all ruinous , and like to fall : An Angel to him did in 's sleep appear , Bad him be gone , and lodge some other where : No sooner gone , but down the wall straight fell ; Then he thanks God , that he escap'd so well . The Angel said , Dost think I like thy deed ▪ Because from this destruction I thee freed ? Sins of this nature never scape my curse ▪ Thou' rt saved from this death , to meet a worse .
XXXI . On a Fisherman . A Fisher while he angled in a brook , A dead mans skull by chance hung on his hook ; The pious man in pity did it take , To bury it , a Grave with 's hand did make ; And as he digg'd , found gold : Thus to good men , Good turns with good turns are repay'd agen .
XXXII . On a burnt Ship . UNhappy Ship , that must by flames expire , And having scap'd by waters , fall by fire ! The Step-dame Sea hath safely landed Thee ; Thy mother Earth's more treacherous then she .
XXXIII . Aliter . I That ere while , of waters was afraid , For lack of waters , am by fire destroy'd : You waves , whom late I curst , I now implore , Then I 'd too much , and now I long for more .
XXXIV . On a Covetous Man . THou that art counted rich , I count thee poor ; Use only shews our wealth ; we have no more Then what we use ; what we keep for our heirs , We cannot say 't is our goods , for 't is theirs .
XXXV . On Hermocrates . HErmocrates made 's will , when sickness came , And made himself Exec'tor of the same : Then he began to count , how much 't would cost To th' Doctor and himself , for the health he 'd lost ; But when he saw to how much it did come , He 'ld rather dye , then give so great a sum : So to keep 's wealth , and to save charges , dies ; His Heirs do mourn in Sack , and braveries .
XXXVI . On a poor and sick Man . WHen age and sickness did upon me seise , Of age none could , of want none would me ease . With palsy'd limbs , I to my grave did go , And there did end my want and sickness too : The lawes of fate preposterously were plac'd ; I found my grave at first , my death at last .
XXXVII . On a Hare . A Hare unsafe by land , leap'd into th' main , Flying land-dogs , was by a sea-dog slain . Poor worm ! flies she to Earth , to Sea , to Skie , Each hath a dog , and she by dogs must dye .
XXXVIII . On Balaams Asse . THe Prophet Balaam wondred heretofore An Asse could speak , and now there 's none speak more .
XXXIX . Upon Democritus and Heraclitus . WEep Heraclitus ; it fits the age where in Nothing but filth , nothing but sorrow's seen : And laugh Democritus , laugh while thou list , Nothing but folly , nought but vain thou seest . This alwaies weeps , that still remains in gladness ; Yet both endure one labour , both on sadness . Now need requires ( since all the World is mad ) . ) A thousand laughing , and a thousand sad : 'T is time the World turn'd ( madness is so sore ) T' Anticera , the grass to Hellebore .
XL. Out of Catullus . MY Mistress saith she 'll marry none but me , Though Jove himself should force her unto it : But Womens words unto their lovers be So firm , they may in wind or waves be writ .
XLI . On an Astronomer that tryed by rules of Art to find whether he were a Cuckold . STar-gazing fool ? thou from the signs would'st see , And Planets face what thy wives dealings be . She does her works below , where Sun ne'r pries , And though she 's light , she mounts not to the skies , 'Cause she 's kept down by men ; if in the sphear Thou Venus see , thou think'st thy wife is there : And if the Bull or Aries thou dost see , Thou think'st they are reflections of thee . Fool keep at home : when thou abroad dost go , In imitation her legs do so too : And when thou gazest in the skies to know Her works , she does even what she please below .
XLII . On Geneva's Arms. GEneva bears the Eagle and the Key ; The Empires this , and that the Papacy : If th' Emperour's Eagle , and the Pope agen Resume his Key , where is thy Empire then ?
XLIII . To a sad Widow . WHile widdow'd wife , for thy drown'd husband thou Dost with perpetual tears thy cheeks bedew , Eterniz'd in three graves his happy shade , In water twice , and once in Earth is laid .
XLIV . On a bribed Judge . TWo parties had a difference , and the cause Did come to be decided by the Laws : The bribing Plaintiff did the Judge present With a new Coach ; T'other with same intent , Gives him two Horses ; each with like design , To make the Judge to his own side incline . The cause being try'd , the Plantiffs overthrown ; O Coach ( quoth he ) thou art the wrong way gone ; The Judge reply'd , It cannot but be so ; For where his Horses draw , your Coach must go .
XLV . To a jealous Husband . IN vain thou shutt'st thy doors by day , in vain Windows by night , thy wifes lust to refrain ; For if a Woman only chaste will be In watch and ward , she has no chastity .
XLVI . On proud Rome . SHut up ( ye Gods ) the gates of Heaven above , And do thou keep thy heavenly Castle Jove : Now sea and Land are subject unto Rome ; Only to Heaven they 've yet a path to come .
XLVII . Against Mourning . MEn justly prayse the Thracians who do mourn When children from their mothers womb are born ; But dead , they think they every way are blest , Because the fates have laid them to their rest . For well they know , all men are born to ill , But being dead , they 've peace and quiet still .
XLVIII . Epigramma in Juliam . ME nive candenti petiit modo Julia , rebar . Igne carere nivem , nix tamen ignis erat . Quid nive frigidius ? nostrum tamen urere pectus Nix potuit manibus , Julia , missa tuis . Quis locus insidiis dabitur mihi tutus amoris , Frigore concreta si latet ignis aquâ ? Julia sola potes nostras extinguere flammas , Non nive , non glacie , sed potes igne pari .
XLIX . Translated . JUlia once stroke me with a ball of snow ; I thought snow was not fire , yet that was so . Then snow what 's colder ? yet 't had pow'r t' inflame My breast , when from my Julia's hand it came ? What place have lovers free from treacheries , When fire within congealed water lies ? Julia alone can make my flames expire , Yet not with ice , or snow , but equal fire .
L. An Essay of the Contempt of Greatness : being a Dialogue of Lucian made English . Lucian , WIth a long beard and broad , with hair untrim'd , Coatless , and shooe-less , almost naked limb'd ; A wandring life you lead , as beasts do do , No certain place are you confin'd unto : On the bare ground , and in the open air , You rest your bones ; the mantle which you wear , Your only garment both for night and day ; Though rough and course , had worn it self away ; But by the dirt that does thereon abide , Its gaping cranies daily are supply'd ; The earth and air both , you about you bear : As earth 't is dirty , and as thin as air : Grave Sir , what may you be pray ? Cynicus Young-man , why Seems this so strange t' you ? here you see live I Content with what I can with ease obtain , And without injury or danger gain : What costs no grief , nor trouble , I can feed And cloath my self withall , I nothing need , But unconcern'd can pass by and deride All , but what serves to nourish , warm , and hide : Pray tell me , do you think , that vitiousness Lies in superfluous luxury ? L.

Surely yes .

C. And don't you judge frugality in men To be a virtue too ? L.

I do .

C.

Why , then

When you see me more thriftily to live Then other men , and them their minds to give To cost and dainties , can it justice be To wink at those , and only censure me ? L. Alas Sir , 't is not Thriftily you live , But nigardly and basely . God does give With liberal hand his gifts , and with the same We ought to take them , and we 're much too blame If we neglect them ; for we shall make void Those blessings , which he sends to be enjoyed . You pine your self , make your enjoyment scant By wilful affectation still to want , And live in poverty . C. Therefore I pray , Since we are gone so forward in the way ; Let 's well consider , what by wanton 's meant , Or penury , and what 's sufficient . L.

Please you , let it be so ;

C. Is that which can Supply the just necessity of man , Esteem'd sufficient ? or d' you judge or know A thing to be desired beyond that ? L.

No.

C. May it be then call'd indigence or want , Or poverty , when men sufficient han't ? L.

It may no doubt .

C. Then I 've sufficient , for I am without Nothing that should supply necessity : More I nor crave nor want . L.

How can that be ?

C. You 'll quickly know , if you do well pertend And observe rightly , what 's the proper end Those things were made for , which you say we need ▪ Is not a house a shelter ? L.

Yes indeed .

C.

And are not garments coverings ?

L.

True , they be .

C. Both these defend and cover us , that we , Whom these do shelter , and do cover so , By their defence and warmth should better grow . L.

No question .

C. Do my feet now seem to you The worse , because not cover'd from your view ? L.

I know not truly .

C. If you do not know , Learn what 's the office of the feet . L.

To go .

C.

And do my feet go worse then others do .

L.

Perhaps they don't .

C. Nay they do not , I know ; And since their office they perform as well Naked as clad , why should the clad excel ? And for my body , why 's not that as good As other mens ? if it were not , it wou'd Be more diseas'd , infirm and weak then theirs : But no infirmity in mine appears ; And therefore since that health and strength do show A bodies excellence , why 's not mine so ? Does this appear diseased ? L.

Not to me .

C. Therefore my feet or body cannot be In want of other covering ; for ne'r doubt it , If they did want , they 'ld be the worse without it ; For want's a real evil to mankind ; What e'r we need , we languish till we find . I thrive in body , and look fresh you see , And sound and strong ; my meat does nourish me : That fare that 's counted course and vile by you , Makes me both strong and healthful . L.

Very true .

C. Else how could aged I who 've liv'd so long , Remain so nimble , active , and so strong ? Did I on dainties feed , and gayly go , To pamper appetite as others do ; Dwingle and pine I should , like them whose food , Though twice more costly , is not half so good . L.

Perhaps you might .

C. What reason then is there , Why you should pass a censure so severe Upon my way of living , and esteem it Wretched and miserable ? L. I so deem it , Because great nature ( whom we all adore ) And the great Gods this spacious world did store , With such variety of gifts , and those so good , So excellent both for our ease and food , In such abundance too , that they supply Our coy delight as well's necessity , And made all common as ' the world is , that All might of all alike participate : These blessings then we may , nay ought t' enjoy , And not to be so overnice and coy , To sleight them all , or all but very few , As they 're neglected by the beasts and you : Water you drink as beasts do , and you eat What you next find , as dogs do drink and meat ; And lodging 's all alike ; to rest or feast , You have no better pattern then the beast : The grounds your common bed , and for your cloaths , They 'r such as every beggar justly loaths . You do content your self with things thus vile , Thus poor , and thus contemptible ; the while Our bounteous God spreads his unwearied hand , And with variety gluts sea and land ; Puts his fat cattle on our flowry plains , And fructifies the teeming earth with rains ; Who makes returns in fruits such various store , Nature her self doth seem embroyder'd o'r . The tugging Bee brings her mellifluous juice , Extracted from all flowers for mans use : Oyl like a deludge over-whelms the ground ; And Amber floating on the sea is found : Peoples the seas with fishes , and each field , Groans as o'r burden'd with the corn they yield ; With various rare productions of such things As our delight , and with 't our wonder brings . But above all the amorous fruitful Vine , Hugs the tall trees , and the heart-cheering Wine , Blushes and swells in the plump grapes which be Drunk with their own rare juyce , and why should we B'endow'd with these abilities which we find , Do fill the body , and adorn the mind ? Why have we strength , and art , and wit to frame Such stately fabricks , but t' enjoy the same ? And why does Art such various things produce , But for our ornament , delight , and use ? If you do well in slighting these things thus , God did not well in sending them to us : Should you by any other be debar'd Th' enjoyment of these things , how ill and hard would it appear t' you ? it would vex your mind , As much as if you 're fetter'd and confin'd : Why then does your own self restrain , And limit from them thus ? C. I should disdain Indeed to be confin'd by other men , And kept from these enjoyments so ; but then Hear me a little ; let me ask you this ; Suppose a man that rich and bounteous is , Should make a sumptuous feast , and should invite Guests of all sorts , and please their appetite With cheer of all sorts too ; for strong men strong Dishes ; and for the weaker palats mix among Some milder delicates , and fill his feast To the degree and palat of each guest ; If 'mong the guests there should be one that wou'd Snatch and devour all that on th' table stood , Reaching from end to end ; though lusty and strong , Yet eats those meats that to the weak belong ; Out-sits all others and out-feeds 'um too , Would you think this man temperate ? L. Surely no. Nor temperate , nor good . C. But then suppose Another person should neglect all those Delicious junkats , and that costly fare , And those inticing delicates that are Superfluously invented to invite To new attempts the sated appetite , And placeth in one plain and wholsome dish , All that he needs , and all that others wish , And feeds but sparingly thereon , don't you Think this a temperate man ? L. Indeed I do And on just reason . C. Do you apprehend By what I say , what 't is I do intend ? Or shall I tell you ? L.

Pray explain your mind .

C. God's this feast - Master , who of every kind With store of various blessings has supply'd Our various wants , and vast desires beside : For healthy men and strong he doth provide , Such diet as their health and strength can 'bide ; The sick and weak he doth with food supply Apt for their sickness and infirmity : Not that we all should upon all things feed ; But all have all things that they truly need : Yet so enrag'd our vast desires still be , And so insatiate is our mind , that we Reach at , and gripe what e'r we meet withall ; And alwaies think what e'r we have too small T' appease our appetite that still aspires ; And new enjoyments breed but new desires : The Land and Seas both contribute their store To our fond wills , yet still we long for more . What nature scatters with her lib'ral hand O'r the wide earth , we ransack for ; no land , No Sea so dangerous , nor so far remote , But we invade to fill the craving throat , And oft neglect what 's wholsome , and what 's good , Because 't is easie , or 't is common food ; Preferring things bought dearly , and fetcht far , Before all such as in their nature are Useful and good ; as if their vertue were Not to be good , but difficult and dear : And therefore choosing rather to endure A restless , then a quiet life and pure . Consider all those things , which you provide To gratifie your humour , lust , or pride : Your stately buildings , costly furniture ; Imbroydred garments , made to tempt the viewer ; Your gold and silver jewels , and your rings , And such unneedful , and unuseful things ; For which you vainly ransack every nation , Not for necessity , but ostentation : With how much toyle , and how much danger they Must be procur'd and purchas'd for you , nay With how much bloud and slaughter of poor men , Whom your vain luxury does make so , when They for their livelihood must plow the seas , And traverse foreign land meerly to please Your pamper'd appetites , and find their grave I' th bosome of an unrelenting wave ; Or if they scape the seas , they meet by land Men crueller then waves , or rocks , or sand : And when they are through dangers , costs , and pains , Purchas'd and brought , dusturb our hearts and brains , And cause dissentions , treacheries , and blowes ; Murthers and thefts , frauds , rapines , make friends foes ; Make brothers brawl with brothers , and inspires Sons with unnatural rage against their Sires ; Husbands destroy their Spouses , and the Wives Break off all bonds , and snatch their husbands lives . So did it make Euriphile of old , Basely betray her husband for his Gold . Yet when all 's done , these costly garments can Warm or defend or dignifie a man , No more then those which only serve for use : Nor do your stately fabricks more conduce Unto our shelter and protection , then Those humble Co●●ages , which old wise men Built for necessity , to guard , and warm's Against the rage of rapine or of storms : Those spacious dishes , and vast goblets too , Wherein you riot , not for need , but shew ; Though beaten silver , or of massie gold , Can't make the liquor better , which they hold ; Nor make the food more wholsome , nor more sweet ; Nor make you see the poyson you may meet Subtly convey'd into them : Nor d' your heads Or bodies rest more on your downy beds ; Nor sleep more soundly 'cause your bed-steads be ( What ere you dream ) of gold or Ivory : Nay we do often find , those men enjoy More quiet and contented sleep , who lay Their wearied bodies on the humble ground , And with Heaven only canopy'd around , Then those can find , who roll their limbs in beds Of Down , or spread with Persian Cover-leds ; Nor is their health , or strength the more , who eat The most delicious , and most costly meat , Then theirs whose diet is but mean and small , To nourish and refresh themselves withall : We see the pamper'd bodies often wax Tender , infirm , unfit for manly Acts : Consumptive , full of pains and maladies , Unknown by persons temperate and wise ; For luxury and sloth , how e'r it pleases , Serves but to feed Physicians and diseases : Yet what a bustle do men make , what dust To gratifie their palat , pride , and lust ? Nay which is more then this , so vile , so vain Mens hearts are grown , and so corrupt their brain , That they pervert the use of things , and bend The Creatures use against the Creatures end . L.

Pray Sir , who do so ?

C. You wh' abuse poor Men. Although you 'r fellow Creatures , and have been Made of the self-same matter , and inspir'd With the same soul and form , and have acquir'd The same perfections too ; and by their birth , Have as good interest in what 's here on Earth , As the Great'st He ; only by policy , By fraud , or force kept in a low degree , By those that property devis'd , and fram'd Bounds for those things which nature free proclaim'd : So brought degrees into the World , and so Masters and Servants made , and high and low , To gratifie Mens lazyness and pride , Some must be serv'd , ador'd and deifi'd ; Mounted in state and triumph , born along On others shoulders , through th' adoring throng , And the poor slaves , are harness'd for that toyl , And us'd like beasts ; do asses work the while , And those in highest honour with you stand , Who most poor slaves can tread on and command : But you blame me because I do despise , And won't partake of such slight vanities , But live content with what I do enjoy ; Not grasping superfluities that cloy , And indispose the mind , and with them bring Cares and vexations , which to them do cling : Nor are they only difficult to gain , But also in the enjoyment very vain : You don't consider how few things , how small A wise contented man may live withall ; With plenty and with comfort ; all those things We truly need are few and mean ; this brings Your scorn on me , to think or say at least 'Cause I live so , I live but like a beast : But by that rule the Gods themselves would be , ( 'Cause they want nothing ) verier beasts then we . Consider rightly , and you 'l clearly find , Which is the best way to dispose your mind : Or to want much , or little , 't is the fate Of the inferior , and the infirmer State , To want more then the nobler and the strong ; Thus to weak infants do more wants belong Then to th' adult ; and thus sick persons do Want more then healthful ; and the women too Want more then men ; and men want more then Cods , For they want nothing : Therefore those , by odds , Approach most nearly to the sacred choir , Who want the least , and who the least desire . Can you suppose great Hercules , that he Whom noble acts proclaim'd a Deity , Was in a wretched miserable case , Because without a garment he did trace Th' uneven Earth , and wandred up and down Without a purple robe , or costly gown ; His body almost naked , only drest In a rough skin tane from a slaughter'd beast ; Desiring none of all those trifles that We vainly prize , and at so dear a rate ? Surely he could not miserable be , Who others did protect from misery ; Nor was he poor ; his power did extend To sea and land ; where ever he did bend His force , he won the victory , and ne'r Met with his conquerour , nor with his Peer : D' you think he wanted garments or such things , Who conquer'd and commanded Lords and Kings ? 'T is not to be imagin'd ; no , he was Content and sober in his mind ; and as He valour shew'd , he shew'd his temp'rance too , And ne'r indulg'd himself ( as now men do ) With vain delights . Or what say you to me Of Thesius his disciple ? was not he King of the Athenians , and most valiant too Of all his stout contemporaries , who By his renowned actions , justly won The reputation of great Neptune's Son ? Yet was his body naked , his feet bare , Nor did he shave his beard , or cut his hair . His limbs were hard and hairy , and in that He our bold Ancestors did imitate ; Who held a smooth and softly skin to be An argument of mens effoem'nacy : And this their actions spoke them men , even so Their plain and simple fashions shew'd them too ; They thought a beard mans natural ornament , And Lyons too ; and that the Mane was sent For the same end to Horses ; and there is In both by nature plac'd a Comelyness , A grace and ornament ; these I propose Unto my self to imitate , not those Ridiculous men of this deluded age , Whose undiscerning fancies do engage Their fond desires to doat on Lushious fare And gorgeous vain attire , and only there Place their imaginary Happiness : For my part I desire not , I profess , My hough should differ from a Horse , but be Like Houghs as Chirons were , all s one to me : I am the nobler much and happier , That no more garments then the Lyons wear ; And that my palat does no more require , Or choyser delicates then Dogs desire ; No better Lodging then the Earth I crave ; And for my dwelling-house the world I have ; And for my diet I provide such meat , As without cost or trouble I may eat : That Gold and Silver bravely I despise , From the desire whereof all ills arise , That do befall Mankind ; Seditious jars , Slaughters and treacheries , Rebellion , Wars , Things that ne'r touch my heart , who little have Yet nothing want , not more then little crave : Thus stands the case with me ; and now you know Both my profession , and my practice too ; All which is different from Common strains , And from the opinion of Vulgar brains , From whom no wonder we in habit do Differ , since we in Principles do too : But I admire at you , who attribute T' all sorts of Men their habit and their suit ; To th' Harper his peculiar garb , and so To the Tragedian his ; and yet you do No habit of distinction yet devise , Or set apart for vertuous Men or wise ; But vainly think it fit that they should go Apparel'd as the fools and vulgar do , A thing both ill and inconvenient too : And certainly if any habit is Proper for th' good and wise , 't is such as this I wear , which the luxurious Gallants hate , And more then Vice scorn and abominate : My garment's course , and rough , and made of hair ; My hair's unshav'n , and both my feet are bare ; Yours are like Pathicks , spruce and finical , Essoeminate Courtiers that cannot at all Be from the rout distinguished or known ; Nor by your habits difference nor your own : Your garments soft like theirs , and gay like theirs , You wear as many as the gallant wears : As various too in colour and in shapes , As Protean as Jove in all 's escapes : So gay your coats , and cloaks , so neat your shooes , To trick and kemb your hair , such art you use , And so much time and cost thereon bestow , To curl and powder't for the smell and show , To tempt , and cheat each other ; you that wou'd Have people think you 're happy , wise and good , Out-do the Vulgar in these vanities , Those Vulgar which so proudly you despise : Yet you must grant that they don't come behind , In parts of body , nor in gifts of mind , The gay'st of you , but are as strong to toyle ; As stout to fight as you , whom lust can foyle , And want on pleasures conquer and subdue As soon as those are least esteemed by you : You in your meat , drink , sleep , and your array , Are as luxurious and vain as they ; You scorn forsooth to walk a foot , but will By Beasts or by poor men , be carry'd still , Whil'st I without relenting can abide Both heats and colds , and what ere can betide Us mortals , and with equal mind I bear All things that God sends down , what ere they are , For which content you count me miserable ; Whereas you thriving worldlings are not able So to compose your souls to be content With your condition , but do still relent , Vex , and repine in every State ; all that Is present you dislike , still aiming at Things absent with great longing ; when you lye Cold in the Winter , you for Summer cry ; And when the Summers heat you do obtain , You Summer loath , and Winter court again : Too hot still , or too cold , like bodies ill , You are repining and complaining still : The same effects diseases in them do Produce , Your Customes do beget in you : 'Twixt both this only difference we find , They 're in their bodies sick , you in your mind : Yet not content that your own selves are so Misled , you 'd tempt and draw in others too To these absurdities and ills with which You have perplext your lives , led by the itch Of blind desire and custome , not the laws Of Reason and of Judgement ; your lust draws And hurries you which way it will ; you go By violent motion , whe'r you will or no : Like to light bodies swimming on a stream , Your lusts drive you , as does the torrent them ; Just as a Rider on an untam'd horse , Is carry'd , not by 's will , but th' horses force ; Can nor go where he please , nor get on 's feet , Whom if one should in his fierce hurry meet , And ask him where he rides , if truth he sayes , His answer must be , Where my Horse doth please . To the same question you must answer too , Where your affections hurry you , you go : Pleasure sometimes , sometimes ambition drives , And sometimes avarice does rule your lives ; Contrary passions work contrary waies ; Fear this way , anger that way , all your daies You 're toss'd like empty ships from this to that , Desiring still , but ne'r agreeing what : You are on many Horses mounted , true , All wild , and all untamable by you ; You climb the craggy rocks , you cross the Seas , Stick at no hard or dang'rous passages ; No Countrey so remote , no toyle so great ; No danger so apparent , cold or heat , Or pain or hunger frights or hinders you ; If your affections bid you go , you do : While my contemned life keeps me at home Safer , and quieter , then you that rome : I can converse with whom I please , and do What I ( that is my reason ) prompts me to ; The ignorant , though rich , I can contemn , And with a free-born mind slight theirs , and them : Th' intemp'rate , and effeminate from me fly , Fearing my habit , and my gravity ; The wise , the modest , and the virtuous be The sole companions and delight of me ; While I contemn the wanton Men and vain , Whose glory 's in their wealth , attire and train ; And bravely can their wealth and them deride , And make my scorn , that which they make their pride : View but the Statues of the Gods , and see If they 're not simple-habited like me . In the Barbarians Temples , or the Greeks , Who ere the Gods attire and fashion seeks , Shall find their habit , and their beards , and hair . Just as my hair , and beard , and habit are : They are not painted , comb'd , nor trim'd like you ; No upper coat made to mislead our view : But one loose simple vest like mine , they do Wear both to cover and adorn them too : Therefore henceforth do you slight me no more , Nor yet upbraid me , as you 've done before For my plain habit , since the gods prefer It before all the rest , and for their wear , Make choyce of this attire , and wisely do Lead us by precept , and example too ; Which when thou 'st ponder'd well , thou 'st find it then , Better to be like gods , then like vain men .
LI. A Paraphrase upon the first Chapter of Ecclesiastes . THus said the Royal Preacher , who did spring From holy David Israel's blessed King ; All things are vain , most vain , nay vanity , Yea vanity of vanities they be . See how the industrious mortals toil and care ! Look how they travel , how turmoyl'd they are ! When their work 's ended , and their race is run , What profit gain they underneath the Sun ? This Generation that appears to day , To morrow vanisheth and fleets away : In whose unstable mansion there comes The next , to fill their Predecessors rooms : And these but come and go ; but this vast frame Th' Earth still remains , though not the very same : The glorious Heavenly Charioter new drest , Riseth in burnish'd glory in the East , And circles this vast Globe with constant Race , Till it returns to its first rising place . Th' unconstant wind that now doth southward blow , Anon to th' North from whence it came , will go : It whirleth still about , yet in its change , It still returns from whence it first did range : The posting River , though about it wanders , Curling it self in intricate Meanders , Yet with a greedy , and a head strong motion , It runs to its original the Ocean : Whose vast unsatiate womb it cannot fill ; For as its taking , so 't is giving still ; And by alternate gratitude supplies The thirsty Earth , and makes new streams arise , Which by an ever active imitation Return from whence they had crigination : Thus in this toilsome fabrick every thing Is full of labour , and doth trouble bring To the still craving Mortal , whose false breast , Vainly supposes this a place of rest ; And while he toyles his labours to possess , Endures more troubles then he can express : The restless Eye is never satisfi'd With viewing objects ; nor doth th' ear abide Content with hearing ; But the senses all Grow by fruition more hydropical ; And every fresh enjoyment straight expires , And 's buried in the flames of new desires . The thing which hath been in the daies of yore , Shall be again , and what 's now done no more , Then what hereafter shall agen be done ; And there 's no new thing underneath the Sun ; There 's no Invention ; that which we stile wit , Is but remembrance ; and the fruits of it , Are but old things reviv'd . In this round World , All things are by a revolution hurl'd . And though to us they variously appear , There are no things but what already were : What thing is there within this world that we Can justly say is new , and cry Come see ? We can't remember things that have been done I th' Nonage of the World , when time begun ; And there will come a time , when those that shall Succeed us , shan't remember us at all ; When things that have been , or that shall be done , Shall be entomb'd in vast oblivion : I that your Preacher am , was he that sway'd A Royal Scepter , and have been obey'd By th' Israelites , and in Jerusalem Did wear great Judah's Princely Diadem , And us'd my wealth , my power , and strength of mind , To seek and search for wisdom , and to find Thereby the causes and effects of all Things done upon this subsolary ball ; The works of our great Architect survey'd ; The firm foundation which his hand had laid ; The various superstructures small and great , Mens labours how they strive to Counterfeit ; And in their several postures how they strive To feed , and fence , and keep themselves alive ; How they do love and hate , are foes and friends , Upon mistaken grounds , and false self-ends ; How they doe doe , and undoe , how they pant And tug to kill imaginary want ; What they both do and suffer , how and why , Their self-created troubles I did spy : And in my Towring over-search I see Both what Men are , and what they ought to be : A sore and tedious travel to the mind , Which our great God in wisdom has design'd For us poor Sons of mortals , and thought fit That we therein should exercise our wit . All that hath been , and all that hath been done , All Creatures actions underneath the Sun ; My searching soul hath seen by contemplation , And lo all 's vanity , and the souls vexation : All men , all things are crooked and perverse , Full of defects are it , and they , and theirs , All so imperfect that they 're not at all ; And ( which we may the great'st vexation call ) This crookedness cannot be rectifi'd ; Nor those defects ( though numberless ) supply'd : When I arriv'd the very top of all , That the mistaken Mamonists miscal , And think their chiefest blessings ; wealth and wit , With all th' additaments that cleave to it : Then did I to my heart Communicate And said ; Lo I 've attain'd a vast estate , And do in wisdome far transcend all them That reigned before me in Jerusalem ; And to compleat the wisdome of my mind , To my large knowledge have experience joyn'd ; I did apply my active mind to know Wisdome and folly , nay and madness too : And from th' experience of all , I find All this is but vexation of the mind : For in much wisdom lies much grief ; and those That increase knowledge , but increase their woes .
LII . A Speech made to the Lord General Monck , at Cloth-workers-Hall in London the 13. of March , 1659. at which time he was there entertained by that worthy Company . NAy then let me come too with my Address , Why mayn't a Rustick promise , or profess His good affection t' you ? Why not declare His Wants ? how many , and how great they are ? And how you may supply them ? Since you may See our hearts mourn , although our clothes be gray . Great Hero of three Nations ! Whose bloud springs From pious and from pow'rful Grand-sire Kings , With whose bloud-royal you 've enrich'd your veyns , And by continu'd Policy and Pains Have equall'd all their Glory ; so that now Three Kinglefs Scepters to your feet do bow , And court Protection , and Alliance too ; And what great men still reach'd at , stoops to you : But you 're too truly Noble to aspire By Fraud or Force to Greatness , or t' acquire Scepters and Crowns by robbery , or base And wilful breach of Trusts , and Oaths ; nor place Your happiness in ravished Dominion , Whose Glory 's only founded in opinion , Attended still with danger , fear , and doubt , And fears within , worse then all those without : You must still watch , and fear , and think , and must Lose all content to gratifie one lust ; Should you invade the Throne , or aim at Pelf , Throw down three Nations to set up your self ; " Kings are but royal slaves , and Prisoners too , " They alwaies toyl , and alwaies guarded go . You are for making Princes , and can find No work proportion'd to your pow'r , and mind , But Atlas-like to bear the World , and be The great Restorer of the Liberty Of three long captiv'd Kingdomes , who were thrown By others strong , delusions , and their own Misguided zeal , to do and suffer what Their very Souls now grieve and tremble at ; Debauch'd by those they thought would teach and rule 'um , Who now they find did ruine and befool 'um : Our meanings still were honest , for alas ! We never dream't of what 's since come to pass ; 'T was never our intent to violate The setled Orders of the Church or State , To throw down Rulers from their lawful Seat , Merely to make ambitious small things great ; Or to subvert the Lawes ; but we thought then the Laws were good , if manag'd by good men ; And so we do think still , and find it true ; Old Lawes did more good , and less harm then new ; And 't was the plague of Countreys and of Cities , When that great belly'd house did spawn Committees . We fought not for Religion , for 't is known , Poor Men have little , and some great Ones none ; Those few that love it truly , do well know , None can take 't from us , whe'r we will or no. Nor did we fight for laws , nor had we need ; For if we had but gold enough to feed Our talking Lawyers , we had Laws enough , Without addressing to the sword or Buffe . Nor yet for Liberties ; for those are things Have cost us more in Keepers , than in Kings ▪ Nor yet for Peace ; for if we had done so , The Souldiers would have beat us long ago : Yet we did fight , and now we see for what ; To shuffle mens Estates ; those owners that Before these wars , could call Estates their own , Are beaten out by others that had none . Both Law and Gospel overthrown together , By those who ne'r believ'd in , or lov'd either . Our truth , our trade , our peace , our wealth , our freedom , And our full Parliaments , that did get , and breed 'um , Are all devour'd , and by a Monster fell , Whom none , but you , could satisfie , or quell : You 're great , you 're good , you 're valiant , and you 're wise ; You have Briarcus hands , and Argus eyes ; You are our English Champion , you 're the true St. George for England , and for Scotland too : And though his story 's question'd much by some , Whe'r true , or false , this Age and those to come , Shall for the future find it so far true , That all was but a Prophecy of you ; And all his great and high Atchievements be Explain'd by you in this Mythology . Herein you 've far out done him ; he did fight But with one single Dragon : but b' your might , A Legion have been tam'd , and made to serve The People , whom they mean t' undo and starve : In this you may do higher , and make fame Immortalize your celebrated name . This ages glory , wonder of all after , If you would free the Son , as he the Daughter .
LIII . Leges Convivales quod faelix faustumque convivis in Apolline sit . NEmo asymbolus , nisi umbra huc venito , Idiota , insulsus , tristis , turpis abesto . Eruditi , Urbani , Hilares , modesti adsciscuntur , Nec lectae foeminae repudiantur . In apparatu , quod convivis corruget nares nil esto , Epulae delectu potius , quam sumptu parantur ; Obsonatur , & coquus convivarum gulae periti sunto ; De discubitu non contenditur Ministri à dapibus oculati , & muti , A poculis auriti , & celeres sunto . Vina puris fontibus ministrantur , aut vapulet hospes , Moderatis poculis provocare sodales fas esto , At fabulis magis quàm vino velitatio fiat , Convivae nec muti , nec loquaces sunto . De seriis , aut sacris , poti , & Saturi ne disserunto ; Fidicen nisi accersitus non venito . Admissorisu , tripudiis , choreis , cantu , salibus , Omni gratiarum festivitate sacra celebrantur ; Jeci sine felle sunto , Insipida poemata nulla recitantur ; Versus scribere nullus cogitur ; Argumentationis totius strepitus abesto ; Amatoriis querelis , ac suspiriis liber angulus esto . Lapitharum more , Scyphis pugnare , vitrea collidere , Fenestras excutere , supellectilem dilacerare ne fas esto Qui foras dicta vel facta eliminet , eliminator , Neminem reum pocula Jaciunto . Focus perennis esto .
Ben. Johnsons sociable rules for the Apollo . LEt none but Guests or Clubbers hither come ; Let Dunces , Fools , sad , sor did men keep home ; Let learned , civil , merry men b'invited , And modest too ; nor the choice Ladies sleighted : Let nothing in the treat offend the Guests , More for delight then cost prepare the feasts : The Cook and Purvey'r must our palats know ; And none contend who shall sit high or low : Our waiters must quick-sighted be and dumb , And let the drawers quickly hear and come : Let not our wine be mixt , but brisk and neat , Or else the dinkers may the Vintners beat . And let our only emulation be , Not drinking much , but talking wittily : Let it be voted lawful to stir up Each other with a moderate chirping cup ; Let none of us be mute , or talk too much , On serious things or sacred let 's not touch With sated heads and bellies : Neither may Fidlers unask'd obtrude themselves to play : With laughing , leaping , dancing , jests and songs , And what ere else to grateful mirth belongs ; Let 's celebrate our feasts ; And let us see That all our jests without reflection be : Insipid Poems let no man rehearse , Nor any be compell'd to write a verse : All noise of vain disputes must be for born , And let the lover in a corner mourn : To fight and brawl ( like Hectors ) let none dare , Glasses or windows break , or hangings tare . Who ere shall publish what 's here done or said , From our Society must be banished : Let none by drinking do or suffer harm , And while we stay , let us be alwaies warm .
LIV. Cromwell's Panegyrick , upon his riding in triumph over the baffled City of L. SHall Presbyterian bells ring Cromwel's praise , While we stand still and do no Trophies raise Unto his lasting name ? Then may we be Hung up like bells for our malignity : Well may his Nose , that is dominical , Take pepper in 't , to see no Pen at all Stir to applaud his merits , who hath lent Such valour , to erect a monument of lasting praise ; whose name shall never dye , While England has a Church , or Monarchy . He whom the laurell'd Army home did bring Riding Triumphant o'r his conquer'd King , He is the Generals Cypher now ; and when He 's joyn'd to him , he makes that one a Ten. The Kingdomes Saint ; England no more shall stir To cry St. Geooge , but now St. Oliver : He 's the Realms Ensign ; and who goes to wring His Nose , is forc'd to cry , God save the King . He that can rout an Army with his name , And take a City , ere he views the same : His Souldiers may want bread , but ne'r shall fear ( While he 's their General , ) the want of Beer ; No Wonder they wore Bayes , his Brewing-fat ( Helicon-like ) makes Poets Laureat : When Brains in those Castalian liquors swim , We sing no Heathenis● Pean , but an Hymn ; And that by th' Spirit too , for who can chuse But sing Hosanna to his King of Jews ? Tremble you Scottish zealots , you that han't Freed any Conscience from your Covenant : That for those bald Appellatives of Cause , Religion , and the Fundamental Laws , Have pull'd the old Episcopacy down ; And as the Miter , so you 'll serve the Crown : You that have made the Cap to th' Bonnet vail , And make the Head a servant to the Tail . And you curst spawn of Publicans , that sit In every County , as a plague to it ; That with your Yeomen Sequestrating Knaves , Have made whole Counties beggarly , and slaves . You Synod that have sate so long to know Whether we must believe in God , or no ; You that have torn the Church , and sate t' impaire The Ten Commandements , the Creed , the Prayer ; And made your honours pull down heavens glory , While you set up that Calf , your Directory : We shall no wicked Jews-ear'd Elders want , This Army 's made of Churches Militant : These are new Tribes of Levi ; for they be Clergy , yet of no University . Pull down your Crests ; for every bird shall gather , From your usurping backs a stolen feather : Your Great Lay-Levite P. whose Margent tires The patient Reader , while he blots whole quires , Nay reams with Treason ; and with Nonsence too , To justifie what e'r you say or do : Whose circumcised ears are hardly grown Ripe for another Persecution : He must to Scotland for another pair ; For he will lose these , if he tarry here . Burges that Reverend Presby-dean of Pauls , Must ( with his Poundage ) leave his Cure of Souls , And into Scotland trot , that he may pick Out of the Kirk , and nick-nam'd Bishoprick . And Will the Conquerour in a Scottish dance , Must lead his running Army into France . And that still-gaping Tophet Goldsmiths-Hall , With all its Furies , shall to ruine fall . We 'll be no more gull'd by that Popish story , But shall reach heav'n without that Purgatory : What honour does he merit , what renown By whom all these oppressions are pull'd down : And such a Government is like to be In Church and State , as eye did never see : Magicians think he 'll set up Common-Prayer ; Looking in 's face , they find the Rubrick there : His Name shall never dye , by fire nor floud , But in Church-windows stand , where pictures stood : And if his soul loathing that house of clay , Shall to another Kingdome march away , Under some Barns-floor his bones shall lye , Who Churches did , and Monuments defie : Where the rude Thrasher , with much knocking on , Shall wake him at the Resurrection . And on his Grave , since there must be no Stone , Shall stand this Epitaph ; That he has none .
LV. A Record in Rhythme , Being an Essay towards the Reformation of the Law , offer'd to the Consideration of the Committee appointed for that purpose . Written by some men of Law , at a time when they had little else to do . By A. B. London , ss. BE it remembred now that formerly , To wit , last Term o' th' holy Trinity , Before the Keepers of the liberty Of England , by the full authority Of the long Parliament at Westminster , Priscilla Morecrave widow came , by her Atturney M. B. and prefers , I' th Court of Upper Bench , a bill of hers , Against one Roger Pricklove , who doth lye A prisoner in the Marshalls Custody Et caetera , and 't is upon a plea Of trespass on the Case , Pledges there be To prosecute the suite , to wit , John Doe And Richard Roe . And the said bill also Doth follow in these very words , to wit In legal manner , London , Scilicet .
Declaration . By M. B. Priscilla Morecrave Widow , doth complain Of Roger Pricklove , who doth now remain , Prisoner to th' Marshal of the Marshalsie ▪ Of the said Keepers of the Liberty Of England , by authority and power Of Parliament , i' th' Bench superiour , Before the same Keepers themselves that be , For that ( to wit ) whereas the aforesaid she Priscilla Morecrave , is a person just , Honest , and faithful , one that never durst Give the least cause for to be thought unchast , But hath liv'd ever modest , and was grac't , With godly education , and demurely , Behav'd her self ; and all her life most purely , Hath with the zealous and precise consorted ; And free from all uncleanness was reported , Who never was amongst the well affected , Stain'd with a Crime , or in the least suspected ; But with the pious people of this Nation , Hath had good fame , credit , and reputation ; By which good reputation , she hath gain'd Not only love , and favour , but obtain'd A plentiful estate , by which most freely She manag'd her Affairs ; And that Ralph Seely , One of the Assembly late at Westminster , A godly-Gospel-preaching-Minister , Was earnest suiter in the way of Marriage , To have her for his yoke-fellow ; his carriage ; And his most Saint-like loving humble speeches , Had her consent to all that he beseeches . And she agreed to give him all content , To wed him by the Act of Parliament : Three times the Contract publish't , then their trust is That all shall be compleated by the Justice : But this said Roger all aforesaid knowing , Maliciously intending her undoing , To blast her reputation , and dishonour Her unstain'd Chastity ; to cast upon Her Infamous obloquy , to dis-repute Her ; And to deprive her of her foresaid Suiter ; By breaking of the marriage was intended ; To leave her to the world lost , and unfriended ; In month September , day of the same Eleven , One thousand six hundred fifty and seven , Of our Lords year , as by our computation , Our Common-wealth reckons from th' incarnation , At London in the parish of St. Mary Bow , in the ward of Cheap , he then contrary To truth most falsly and maliciously In hearing of right worthy Company , And honourable persons , Noble Lords , Did speak these false , and most reproachful words , To and off her the Plaintiff ; that 's to say , You are a Pockie Whore , and at this day You have three Bastards living , which do dwell , Two in Pick-hatch , and one in Clarkenwell : By reason of which false malicious speaking Of the said Roger , to her great heart-breaking ; The godly Gospel-Minister , her Suiter , Forbears his former suit , and for the future , Did make profession he would never take her To be his Consort , but did quite forsake her ; And all her friends with whom he had repute , Do now esteem her for a Prostitute ; Whereby she is the worse , and damnifi'd , One thousand and five hundred pounds , beside ; And thereupon she doth her suit produce , In th' Upper Bench , because of this abuse .
Imparlance . By A. B. And now until this day , that is to say , On Munday three weeks after Michaels day In this same Term , which very day until Roger had leave t' emparl unto that Bill , And then to answer it ; before the same Keepers , as well the said Priscilla came , I' th Court of Upper Bench , at Westminster By that Attourney nam'd before , for her , As the aforesaid Roger , who doth come By his Attourney A. B. And doth defend the force and injurie , When , where , et ceaeera . And said that she , The said Priscilla , ought not maintain , nor Have thereupon her Suit against him , for Protesting , not acknowledging that she Is half so honest as she 'ld seem to be ; Nor is her body , or her life so clear , Nor so unsported , as she would appear ; Nor is she of so chaste a reputation , As is pretended by her Declaration : Protesting also that the said Ralph Seely ( Though oft together did both he and she lye ) Ne'r meant to Marry her , but all his power , Of love was quench'd in less then half an hour . Besides he 'ld quite undo her ; if he had , His learning was so small his life so bad . For Plea he saith that at the time , wherein She does suppose these slandrous words t' have bin Spoke by th' aforesaid Roger , she the said Priscilla was nor Widow , Wife , nor Maid ; And though she pass'd for an unbroken Virgin , She catch'd th' aforesaid Presbyter in her gyn ; And with his wall-ey'd Saintship plaid the sinner , Who b'ing inspir'd by a Thanksgiving dinner , Did carnally her body know , to wit The crime of Fornication did commit ; In the same Ward , and Parish , to his Honour , He at one clap got three great Boyes upon her . All which for privacy were put to feeding At Bridewell and Pick-hatch , to learn good breeding : And she in recompence clap'd him so sore , With Anglice French - POX , it made him rore ; And put his Genitals in such a pickle , That all his Parish women did article , And out him of his Benefices twain , And into Scotland made him trot again : Wherefore ( as lawful 't was ) on this occasion , He spake the words laid in the Declaration . And this he Justifies , and judgement crave , If she this suit ought to maintain or have .
Replication . By I. H. And she the said Priscilla doth maintain her Said Action , against all that 's said to stain her ; And saith this Court nor will nor can forejudge her , For ought that 's pleaded by the foresaid Roger ; But though by his said Plea , she 's forc'd to carry , Her suit against him , yet she ought to carry ; Protesting therefore she 's not such a liver , Nor of such Fame , as the said Plea doth give her Out for to be , but that she hath not vary'd One jo● in life from what she hath declared : And on the said Ralphs part protesting farther , That of the Kirk he was a Godly Father ; And of as pure and chaste a conversation , As any Presbyter within the Nation : And free from any lustful act committing , With her , or any other deed unfitting : For Replication saith , she was not knowing Of the said Ralph but three years last foregoing : During which time , and till the said words spoke were By the said Roger ( that almost have broke her ) She liv'd a Matrons life , chaste , grave , and thrifty , And came unto the Age of three and fifty ; And the said Ralph all the said time , by reason Of his much preaching in and out of season ; And of his fasting long , and longer praying , And from his peoples not their duties paying , In the same Ward and Parish , grew so weakly , That of his life he did despair weekly : Which weakness had so very much out-worn him , That in his bed he was not able turn him ; Till that a learned Doctor of the Colledge Who of his sickness had full perfect knowledge , For gaining of his health did much exhort him , To wed an honest Matron to Comfort him : Which the said Ralph well liking , and well knowing The honour to the said Priscilla owing , And thinking that delayes might greatly worse him , With Zeal , did Court her for a wife to nurse him : And she in pity to his weak Condition , Did condescend to be his she Physician , And for their joynt desires better carrying , A day by both appointed was for marrying : But on the sudden off the same was broken By the said Roger's words aforesaid spoken ; By means whereof , he the said Ralph , endure Could not the said Priscilla for a Cure , But of relief his expectations failing , And his long sickness more and more prevailing ; In Month October , day thereof that first is , In the Lords year that formerly exprest is ; At the said Ward , the said Ralph much in trouble , Did dye , to 's loss , possess'd of living double : And left the said Priscilla to bemoan her , For that no other man would after own her ; And that she truly doth reply and don 't lye , She prays may be inquired by the Country .
Rejoynder . By A. B. And the aforesaid Roger saith the Plea By her the said Priscilla formerly Put in and pleaded by her Replication , In the aforesaid manner , form , and fashion , And the whole matter that 's contained there , Are not sufficient in the law , for her The said Priscilla , to maintain her aforesaid Suit against him , and there need be no more said : Nor by the laws of England is it fit , That he should make answer unto it ; This to averr he 's ready . Whereupon For want of better Replication In this behalf , he doth a judgment pray , And that she from having her action may Be barr'd , for this against him ; And for The causes why he doth in Law demurr Upon that Replication , he the said Roger according to the Statute made , And in such case provided , doth declare And shew to th' Court of Upper Bench that 's here , These causes following , to wit , that this Said Replication insufficient is , Negative , pregnant , and uncertain , rude , Double , wants form , and does not conclude Rightly , according to the legal way .
Joyning in Demurrer . By A. B. And she the said Priscilla here doth say , That the said Plea which by reply has been Pleaded by her , and what 's contain'd therein , In point of Law , good , and sufficient be , Her suit against him to ma●ntain ; And she That Plea and matter , pleaded as above , Is ready here both to maintain and prove , As this Court shall consider , and think fit , And 'cause he does not answer it , nor yet Deny the Replication any way , The said Priscilla ( as before ) doth pray Judgement , and dammages to be judg'd to her , For all this injury which he did do her : But 'cause this Court here not advised is Of giving judgment of the premises , A day 's giv'n to both parties to appear I' th Upper Bench , before the Keepers here At Westminster , till Munday after eight Dayes of St. Hillary , for the receipt , And hearing of their Judgment upon it , For that the Court is not advis'd as yet .
LVI . To the Kings most Sacred Majesty , on his miraculous and glorious return 29. May , 1660. NOw our Spring-royal's come , this cursed ground , Which for twelve years with Tyrants did abound , Bears Kings again , a memorable Spring ! May first brought forth , May now brings home our King ; Auspicious Twenty ninth ! this day of Mirth Now gives Redemption , which before gave Birth . Hark , how th' admiring people cry , and shout , See how they flock and leap for joy ; the Rout , Whose Zeal and Ignorance , for many years , Devis'd those Goblins Jealousies and Fears , And fighting blindfold in those puzling Mists , Rais'd by the conjuring of their Exorcists , Wounded , and chas'd , and kill'd each other while Their Setters-on did share the prey , and smile Now the delusion 's o'r , do plainly see What once they were , what now they ought to be T' abused Trumpet that was only taught To inspire Rebellion , now corrects its fault ; Tun'd by your Fame ; and with more chearful voyce , Contributes sounds , and helps us to Rejoyce : The Guns which roar'd for your best subjects bloud , Disown their cause now better understood ; The Bells that for sedition long chim'd in , As if themselves too , Rebaptiz'd had been , Convert their notes ecchoing with louder peal , The harmony of Church and Common-weal : While in contiguous Bon-fires all the Nation Paint their late fears , and sport with Conflagration ; 'Bout which rejoycing Neighbours friendly meet , And with fresh wood the kind devourer greet . Mean while , th' old Subjects , who so long have slept In Caves , and been miraculously kept From Rage and Famine ; while the only thing That fed and cloath'd them , was the hope of King , Do all New-plume themselves to entertain Your long'd-for Majesty , and welcome Train . And ( as in Job's time 't was ) those Spurious things , Who look like Subjects , but did ne'r love Kings , Appear among your Subjects in array That 's undiscernable , unless more gay . All with loud hallows pierce the smiling skies , While brandish'd Swords please and amaze our eyes . Why then should only I stand still ? and bear No part of triumph in this Theatre ? Though I 'm not wise enough to speak t' a King What 's worth his ear , nor rich enough to bring Gifts worthy his acceptance ; though I do Not ride in Buff and Feathers , in the show ; ( Which Pomp I did industriously eschew , That Cost being more to me , than th' shew to you ) Nor do I love a Souldiers garb to own , When my own Conscience tells me I am none . Yet I 'll do duty too , for I 've a mind Will not be idle , but will something find To bid my SGVERAIGN Welcome to his own Long-widow'd Realm , his Scepter , Crown & Throne ; And though too mean and empty it appear , If he afford a well-pleas'd Eye and Ear , His pow'r can't by my Weakness be withstood , Bee 't what it will , he 'll find , or make it good . Hail long-desired Soveraign ! you that are Now our sole joy and hope , as once our fear ! The Princely Son of a most pious Sire Whose Precepts and Example did inspire Your tender years with virtues , that become A King that 's fit to rule all Christendome : Which your great Soul hath so improved since , Europe can't shew such an accomplish'd Prince : Whose whole life 's so exemplary , that you Convinc'd those foes , which we could not subdue ; And those that did t' your Court t' abuse you come , Converted Proselytes returned home : Such strong and sympathetick virtues lye In your great name , it cures when you 're not nigh , Like Weapon-salve ; If fame can reach up to This height of Cures , what will your person do ? Your Subjects high'st Ambition , and their Cure , Bold Rebels terrour , you that did endure What e'r the Wit or Malice of your foes Could lay on you or yours , yet stoutly chose To suffer on , rather than to requite Their injuries , and grew Victorious by 't ; And by your patient suffering did subdue The Traytors fury , and the Traytors too . The great King makers favourite , a Prince Born to a Crown , and kept for 't ever since . From Open force , from all the Close designs Of all your Foes , and all our Catilines , From all th' insatiate malice of that bold Bloud-thirsty Tyrant , from his sword , and gold , Which hurt you more ; and from your own false Friends , Whom he still kept in pay to serve his ends Yet you 're deliver'd out of all these things , By your Protector , who 's the King of Kings . No more that proud Usurper shall proclame Those partial Conquests which but brand his name , To all posterity , no more remember , His thrice auspicious third day of September ; Since he fought not for victories , but paid ; Nor were you conquer'd by him , but betray'd : And now your May , by love , has gotten more , Than his Septembers did , by bloud , before . Thanks to that Glory of the West , that Star , By whose conductive influence you are Brought to enjoy your own , whose em'nent worth These Islands are to small to Eccho sorth : Whose courage baffled fear , whose purer soul No bribes could e'r seduce , no threats controul , But strangely cross'd the proverb , & brought forth The best of Goods from th' once-pernicious North , To whose Integrity , your Kingdomes owe Their restauration , and what thence does flow , Your blest arrival ; with such prudence still He manag'd these affairs , such truth , such skill , Such valour too , he led these Nations through Red Seas of Bloud , and yet ne'r wet their shoe . Blest be the Heavenly pow'rs , that hither sent That Noble Hero , as the instrument , To scourge away those Furies , and to bring To 's longing subjects our long absent King . Welcome from forein Kingdoms , where you 've been , Driv'n by hard-hearted Fate , and where you 've seen , Strange men and manners ; yet too truly known , No Land less Hospitable than your own ; From those that would not , those that durst not do Right to themselves , by being kind to you ; From profess'd foes , and from pretended friends , Whose feigned love promotes their cover'd Ends. " Kings treating Kings , springs not from love , but state , " Their love's to policy subordinate . From banishment , from dangers , and from want , From all those mischiefs that depend upon 't , You 're truly welcome , welcome to your throne , Your Crowns and Scepters , and what ere 's your own , Nay to what 's ours too , for we find it true , Our wealth is gotten and preserv'd by you . Welcome 't your Subjects hearts , which long did burn With strong desires to see your bless'd Return . Welcome t' your friends , welcome t' your wisest foes , Whose bought Experience tells them now , that those Riches they 've got by plunder , fraud , and force , Do not increase , but make their fortunes worse , Like Robbers spoyls , just as they come , they go , And leave the wretches poor and wicked too . They see their error , and that only you Can give them pardon , and protection too . Since you 're come out o' th fire , twelve years refin'd , With hardned body , and Experienc'd mind . Only that crew of Caitiffs , who have been , So long , so deeply plung'd in so great sin , That they despair of pardon , and believe , You can't have so much mercy to forgive , As they had villany t' offend , and so They to get out , the further in do go . These never were , and never will be true ( What e'r they say or swear ) to God or you . The scum and scorn of every sort of men ; That for abilities , could scarce tell ten ; And of estates proportion'd to their parts ; Of mean enjoyments , and of worse deserts , Whom want made bold , and impudence supply'd Those gifts , which art and nature had deny'd ; And in their practice perfect Atheists too , ( For half-wit , and half-learning makes men so ) . These first contriv'd , and then promoted all Those troubles , which upon your Realm did fall ; Inflam'd three populous Nations , that they might Get better opportunity and light To steal and plunder , and our goods might have , By robbing those , whom they pretend to save , Our new commotions new employments made , And what was our affliction grew their trade : And when they saw the plots , th' had laid , did take , Then they turn'd Gamesters , and put in their stake , Ventured their All ; their Credit which was small , And next their Conscience which was none all , Put on all forms , and all Religions own , And all alike , for they were all of none : A thousand of them han't one Christian soul , No Oathes oblige them , and no Laws controul Their strong desires but poenal ones ; and those Make them not innocent , but cautelous . Crimes that are scandalous , and yield no gain , Revenge or pleasure , they perhaps refrain ; But where a crime was gainful to commit , Or pleas'd their lust or malice ; how they bit ! This did invade the Pulpit , and the Throne , And first made them , then all that 's ours , their own ▪ Depos'd the Ministers and Magistrates , And in a godly way , seiz'd their estates ; Then did the Gentry follow , and the Rich , Those neutral sinners , by omission , which Had good estates , for it was not a sin To plunder , but t' have ought worth plundring . And by religious forms , and shews and paints , They 're call'd the godly party , and the Saints . By crafty artless Oratory , they Vent'ring to make Orations , preach , and pray , Drew in two silly souls , that were Caught with vain shews , drawn on by hope and fear , Poor undiscerning , all believing Elves , Fit but to be the ruine of themselves ; Born to be couzen'd , trod on , and abus'd ; Lov'd to be fool'd , and easily seduc'd : These beasts they make with courage fight and dye , Like Andabates , not knowing how , nor why , Till they destroy'd King , Kingdome , Church , and Laws , And sacrificed all to Molochs Cause : While those possess the fruit of all the toils Of these blind slaves , and flourish with their spoils , Plum'd with gay feathers stoln , ( like Aesops Crow ) They seem gay birds , but it was only show . Now publique lands and private too , they share Among themselves , whose mawes did never spare Ought they could grasp ; to get the Royal lands , They in Bloud Royal bath'd their rav'nous hands . With which they shortly pamper'd grew , and rich , Then was their bloud infected with the itch Of Pomp , and Power , and now they must be Squires , And Knights and Lords , to please their wives desires , And Madam them . A broken tradesman now , Piec'd with Church-L●nds , makes all the vulgar bow Unto his honour , and their Bonnets vail To 's worship , that sold Petticoats , or Ale . In pomp , attire , and every thing they did Look like true Gentry , but the Soul , and Head , By which they were discern'd , for they were rude , With harsh and ill-bred natures still endu'd ; Proud , and penurious . What Nobility Sprung in an instant , from all trades had we ! Such t' other things , crept into t' other House , Whose Sires heel'd stockings , and whose Dam● sold sowse . These were Protectors , but of such a crew , As people Newgate , not good men , and true : These were Lord Keepers , but of Cowes and Swine , Lord Coblers , and Lord Drawers , not of Wine . Fine Cockney-pageant Lords , and Lords Gee-hoo , Lords Butchers , and Lords Butlers , Dray-Lords too . And to transact with these was hatch'd a brood , Of Justices and Squires , nor great , nor good , Rays'd out of plunder , and of sequestration , Like Frogs of Nilus , from an foundation ; A foundred Warrier , when the wars did cease , As nat'rally turn'd Justice of the Peace , And did with boldness th' office undertake , As a blinde Coach-horse does a Stallion make . These fill'd all Countreys , and in every Town Dwelt one or more to tread your Subjects down . And to compleat this Stratagem of theirs , They use Auxiliary Lecturers ; Illiterate Dolts , pickt out of every Trade , Of the same metal , as Jeroboams , made , That ne'r took Orders , nor did any keep , But boldly into others Pulpits creep , And vent their Heresies , and there inspire The vulgar with Sedition , who desire Still to be cheated , and do love to be Mis-led by th' ears , with couzning Sophistrie , These sold Divinity , as Witches do In Lapland , Winds , to drive where e'r you go . The Sword no action did , so dire and fell , But that some Pulpiteers pronounc'd it , Well . With these ingredients , were the Countreys all Poyson'd , and fool'd , and aw'd , while they did call Themselves the Cities , or the Counties , and Do in their names , what they ne'r understand Or hear of . These did that old Dry-bone call Up to the Throne , ( if he were call'd at all ) And vow'd to live and dye with him ; and then Address'd to Dick , and vow'd the same agen . And so to Rump ; but these vowes were no more Then what they vow'd to Essex long before , And so perform'd ; they dy'd alike with all , Yet liv'd on unconcerned in their fall : So as these Corks might swim at top , they ne'r Car'd what the liquor was , that them did bear . These taught the easie people , prone to sin , And ready to imbibe ill customes in , To betray trusts , to break an Oath , and Word , Things that th' old English Protestants abhorr'd . And lest these Kingdoms should hereafter be Took for inchanted Islands ( where men see Nothing but Devils haunt , as if God and All virtuous people had forsook the land , And left it to these Monsters ) these took care , To make us match and mix our bloud with their Polluted issue ; and so do , as when Gods sons did take the daughters once of men . To fright men into this , they did begin To decimate them , for Orig'nal Sin . Children that were unborn , in those mad times , And unconcern'd in what they Voted crimes , If guilty of Estates , were forc'd to pay The tenth to those , who took nine parts away . The Law was made a standing pool , and grew Corrupt , for want of current ; thence a crew Of monstrous Animals out daily crawl'd , Who little knew , but impudently ball'd ; And made the Law the Eccho of the Sword , With such lew'd Cattel were the Benches stor'd , That made the Gown ridiculous , Now and then The Malefactors were the wiser men , Most times the honester ; these did dispence , And rack the Laws , 'gainst equity and sence , Which way the Buff would have them turn ; by which They long continued powerful and Rich. Now they 'l all wheel about , and be for you , For ( like Camaelions ) they still change their hue , And look like that that 's next them ; they will vow , Their hearts were alwaies for you , and are now . 'T is no new Wit , 't is in a Play we know , Who would not wish you King , now you are so ? Yet you can pardon all , for you have more Mercy and love , than they have crimes , in store . And you can love , or pity them , which none But you could do ; you can their persons own , And with unconquer'd patience look on them , Because your Nature knows not to condemn . You 'll let them live , and by your grace convince Their treach'rous hearts , that they have wrong'd a Prince , Whom God and Angels love and keep ; whose mind Solely to love and mercy is inclin'd ; Whom none but such as they would hurt , or grieve , And none but such as you could e'r forgive Such men and crimes . Those feathers ne'rtheless Pluck'd from your Subjects backs , their own to dress , Should be repluck'd , or else they should restore , They 'll still be left Crows , as they were before . But if you trust them , — And now you are returned to your Realm , May you sit long , and stedfastly at th' Helm , And rule these head-strong people : may you be The true Protector of our Libertie . Your wisdome only answers th' expectation Of this long injur'd , now reviving Nation . May true Religion flourish and increase , And we love virtue , as the ground of peace ; May all pretences , outward forms , and shewes Whereby we have been gull'd , give way for those True act of pure religious , and may we Not only seem religious , but be . Of taking Oathes , may you and we be shy , B●t being ta'ne think no necessity O● power can make us break them ! may we ne'r Make wilful breach of promises ! nor e'r Basely betray our trusts ! but strive to be Men both of honour , and of honestie ! And may those only that are just , and true , Be alwa e● honour'd , and imploy'd by you . Next let our sacred Laws in which do stand The wealth , the peace , and safety of our Land , be kept inviolable , and never made Nets to the small , while the great Flies evade ! May those that are intrusted with them be Men of sound knowledge , and integrity , And sober courage ; such as dare , and will , And can do Justice ! We have felt what ill Comes by such Clarks and Judges as have been , For favour , faction , or design put in , Without respect to Merit , who have made The Law to Tyrants various lusts a Bawd , Perverted Justice , and our Rights have sold , And Rulers have been over-rul'd by Gold : Then are the people happy , and Kings too , When , they that are in power , are good , and doe . On these two Bases let our peace be built So firm and lasting , that no bloud be spilt , No Countrey wasted , and no treasure spent While you and yours do reign ; no future rent Disturb your happiness ; but may we strive Each in his sphere , to make this Nation thrive , Grow plentiful , and pow'rful , and become The Joy or Terror of all Christendome . And those , who ▪ lately thought themselves above us , May , spite of fate , or tremble at , or love us , May no incroaching spirit break the hedge Between Prerogative , and Priviledge . And may your sacred Majesty enjoy Delights of Mind , and Body , that ne'r cloy ! Not only be obey'd , but lov'd at home , Prais'd and admir'd by all that near you come ! And may your Royal Fame be spread as far As valiant , and as virtuous people are ! And when you 're Majesty shall be inclin'd , To bless your Realms with heirs , oh may you find A Spouse that may for Beauty , Virtue , Wit , And royal birth , be for your person fit ! May you abound in hopeful heirs , that may Govern the Nations , and your Scepters sway , Till time shall be no more , and pledges be Both of your love , and our felicity . May you live long and happily , and find No pains of body , and no griefs of mind : While we with loyal hearts Rejoyce , and Sing God bless your Kingdoms , and God save our KING .
THE END .
A Catalogue of some Books Printed for H. Brome , at the Gun in Ivie-lane .

DOctor Spark's Devotions on all the Festivals of the year .

The Alliance of Divine Offices , exhibiting all the Liturgies of England since the Reformation , by Hamon L'estrange , Esq in fol.

Justice Revived , or the whole Office of a Countrey Justice , in 8.

The Exact Constable , with his Originals and Power , in the Offices of Church-wardens , Overseers of the Poor , Surveyors , Treasurers , and other Officers , as they are now established by the Laws and Statutes of the Land : both by Edw. Wingate , Esq

Dr. Brown's Sepulchral Urns , and Garden of Cyrus , in 8.

Two Essayes of Love and Marriage , in 12.

The Royal Exchange , a Comedy in 4. And four New Playes in 8. by R. Brome .

A Treatise of Moderation , by Mr. Gaule , in 8.

St. ●onaventure's Soliloquies , in 4.

Jewes in America , by Mr. Thorogood , in 4.

All Mr. L'Estrange's Pieces against Mr. Bagshaw , and the Presbyterians .

Speeds Husbandry , in 8.

All the Songs , and Poems of the Rump , in 8. from 1640 to 1660.

The Pourtraicture of his sacred Majesty King Charles the Second , from his birth 1630. till this present year 1661. being the whole story of his escape at Worcester , his travels and troubles .

The Glories and Magnificent Triumphs of the Restitution of King Charles the Second , shewing his Entertainments in Holland , and his passage through London , and the Countrey , comprising all the Honours done to , and conferr'd by him : By James Heath , formerly Student of Ch. Ch. in Oxon.

The Covenant discharged , by John Russel , in 4.

The compleat art of Water-drawing , in 4.

Chisul's Danger of being almost a Christian , in 12.

Aeneas his Voyage from Troy to Italy , an Assay upon the third Book of Virgil , in 8.

The Transtation of the sixth Book of Virgil , 4. both by J. Boys Esq

Mr. Walwin's Sermon on the happy Return of King Charles the second .

Mr. Grenfield's Sermon in behalf of the Loyal party .

Mr. Stone 's Sermon at St. Pauls , Octob. 20. 1661. against Rebellion .

Bloud for Bloud , in 35 Tragical stories ; the five last being the sad product of our late Rebellion , in 8.

Trap on the Major Prophets , &c. in fol.

A Discourse of all the Imperfections of Women , in 8.

Mr. Morton's Rule of Life , in 8.

A Geographical Dictionary of all the Town● and Cities in the World .

The Jovial Crew , or Merry Beggars , by R. Brome , Gent. Salmasius in English .

Holy Authems , sung in all Cathedrals in England .

Schriverius Lexicon Greek and Latin , the fourth Edition much enlarged .

Eighteen Choice Sermons preacht by Bishop ●sher in Oxford , in the time of War , in 4.

The Crums of Comfort .

The History of the Bible .

The List of the Loyal Party . And Case .

The Harmony of the World , in 8. in 3. Parts .

The Temple of Wisdom , useful for all persons , being a Magical Discourse , in 8. both by John Heyden , Esq

Flodden-field in 9 Fits ; or an Excellent History of the memorable battle fought between the English and Scots in the time of Henry the 8th 1513.

The new Common-Prayer with choice Cuts in Copper , suited to all the Feasts and Fasts of the Church of England throughout the year , in a Pocket-Volume .

Oldsworth's Holy Royallists .

Songs and other Choice Poems , by Mr. Henry Bold , in 8.

Mr. Brome's Songs .

Notes, typically marginal, from the original text
Notes for div A29623-e103620