THE SEVERALL SPEECHES AND Songs, at the presentment of Mr BVSHELLS ROCK TO THE QVEENES Most Excellent Majesty.
Aug. 23. 1636.
HER HIGHNESSE being Gratiously Pleased to Honour the said ROCK, not only with HER ROYALL Presence; BVT COMMANDED THE SAME to be called after her owne Princely name HENRIETTA.
OXFORD, Printed by LEONARD LICHFIELD.
M.DC.XXXVI.
The Hermits speech ascending out of the ground as the KING entred the Rock.
WITH bended knees thus humbly doe I pray,
You blessed powers, that glorifie this day,
And to my frozen lipps haue vtterance giuen,
Speak, O speak the Commands you bring from heauen!
For by times Embleme that since Noahs flood,
I thus haue grasp'd, my soule hath vnderstood,
The world no farther Iorney hath to saile
Then is betwixt this Serpents head, and taile.
Hold Serpe hand
If then before the Earths great funerall,
Most glorious SIR, you hither come to call
The Inmates of this solitarie place
To strict accoumpt, for Heauens sake daigne the grace
To lend your patience, and a gentle eare
To what I ought to speak, and you may heare:
A Prodigall profuse in vast expence,
That nothing studied, but to please his sense,
Trimming a glorious outside, whil'st within
He cherisht nought, but propagating sinne,
That multiplied so fast, there was no place
Allow'd for virtue, or for sauing grace;
God of his mercy pleased was at last
A gratious Eye vpon his soule to cast,
Which being so neere a finall rack as now
His only care, his studie is, but how
He may redeeme the yeares he lost in sinne
And liue as he to liue did now beginne.
What followed next must be conceau'd of course,
Confession, contrition, and remorse,
These guides to heauen he happily persu'd,
View'd his past life, and that againe review'd:
And to that end he purchas'd at a price
This field, then sterill, now his Paradise;
Where he as man of old, by God being bound
With Adam, wrought, and dig'd, and drest the ground.
Here are no Riuers such as Eden had,
Nor were these banks with trees or flowers clad
T' invite a stay, the Owle, not Philomell
Within this solitarie place did dwell.
And I, the Genius of this obscure Caue
Since the great deluge, liu'd as in a graue,
Chain'd to this ROCK, my Toumb-stone in dispaire
Of freedome, or to view such beames, as are
Shot from your Virtues: All my dayes were night,
Vntill the humble Owner brought to light
These eyes of mine, and forc'd great nature show
This master-peece, a grace she did not owe
To any age before, and sooth to say,
I thinke it was created 'gainst this day.
If then you be the God of Brittaines earth,
And rule this Ile, (as sure you are by birth)
Vouchsafe a blessing, such a one as may,
Preserue this ROCK, my mansion from decay.
For envie would expell me from my home,
And sinck me in the ruines of my owne.
But let the true Possessor, to whom heauen
For pure devotion-sake this place hath giuen,
Let him in peace enioy it, that he may
Build Altars here, and daily offerings pay
For his preseruers health grant this, and then
I that liu'd long with stones, will liue with men:
And thinke the golden age is now begunne,
In which no injuries are meant or done:
Such Innocents as yet remaine with vs
That doe inhabit here, and humbly thus
We meane to liue, having no other fare
Then uncurst water, uncorrupted aire.
Vouchsafe to enter, and you here shall find
Nothing but what may please a displeas'd mind.
My bold Commission's done, and I returne
Downe to my humble graue, my peacefull urne.
Mr BVSHELL his Contemplation vpon the Rock.
GReat nature, had I not a Soule, that spies
A greater power enthron'd aboue the skies,
I should adore thee, and should Idolize
This maister-peece of thine, and sacrifice
The fat of Bullocks to thy memorie,
But we forbidden are to deifie
What may be seene; since that it is reveal'd
The face of what's divine must be conceal'd
From mortall eyes, untill that greatest light
Be quite put out that severs day from night.
Where are the Muses, that were wont to sing
Their well tun'd note about Parnassus spring?
Where is that Master-peece of Poets now
That had a Lawrell wreath to crowne each brow?
Where are those paper-spoylers, that can part
With many sheetes to paint out painted Art
In praising faces, features such as be
In beautie poore, if once compar'd to thee?
Shall I not thinke the world on's death-bed lyes,
And summon'd to his funerall obsequies,
The soules departed hence, when thus I see
Nature unlocke her richest treasurie.
And in this doting age discover more
Then in six thousand yeares that past before.
You, that can sequester your selves from men,
And buried be alive, in Caue, or den,
In hollow ROCK, or in a desart groue,
That the sad note of murmuring water love;
Ile bring you to a ROCK, that for it's pleasure,
The Indies cannot purchase with their treasure,
Where none but virgin silence liveth there
And sweetest Musicke charmes the chastest eare
The fountaines times doe keepe to birds that sing,
And on the plaine song utter'd by each spring
The ayerie Choristers division run;
The solid ROCK that various streames hath spun
Even into strings as small as smallest wyre,
Seemes to consort, and so make up a quire
Such as the holy virgines sweetly raise
When their choice Hymnes doe sing on holy-dayes.
So that devotion here is kept on wing,
And rather rais'd, then checkt by whispering
Of springs with ROCKS, or ROCKS with light heel'd streames
Night swimmes away in rest, the day in dreames,
So that the watchfull HERMIT needs no clock,
There are perpetuall Chymes within this ROCK,
That will not let his contemplation sleepe,
Would he be sad, there he may learne to weepe
Of every object offer'd to his eye;
The humble pavement never shall be dry,
But moystened still, with teares that there are shed,
From the rich fountaine of the ROCKS curl'd head.
This my Propheticke soule foretells shall be,
ENSTON, the honour, that shall dwell with thee.
A Sonnet within the pillar of the Table at the Banquet.
I.
COme away blest soules no more
Feede your eyes with what is poore.
'Tis enough that you haue blest
What was rude; what was undrest,
And created in a trice
Out of Chaos paradise.
Come away and cast your eyes
On this humble sacrifice.
2.
We no golden apples giue,
Here's no Adam, here's no Eve:
Not a Serpent dares appeare,
Whilest your Majesties stay here,
Oh then sit, and take your due,
Those the first fruits are that grewe
In this Eden, and are throwne
On this Altar as your owne
3.
Set a chaire for earth's Jove.
Bring another for his love.
Come away, vouchsafe to taste
What was gathered up in haste,
If we live another yeare
By your grace and favour here,
Italy, and France, and Spaine
Of their fruits shall boast in vaine.
Mr BVSHELL presenting the Rock by an Eccho sung to the KING and QVEENES Majesty.
The Eccho.
I charge thee answere me to what I aske,Echo: aske
Hath ought presented to these Princes pleas'd?Echo: pleas'd
Pleas'd? O gentle Eccho speak that word againe,Echo: againe
How haue they lik'd our Rock, our Caue, our Well?Echo: well
Well! proud would their Host be should I tell him Echo: tell him
Tell him Eccho, I will that he dispaire not Echo: Spare not
What shall we giue them by way of thankfulnes?Echo: thankfulnes
That, like thee, is aire; we would giue what's reall Echo: all
All, why all that we haue is but this Rock,Echo: this Rock
Giue them this poore Rock, Eccho meane you so?Echo: so
To which of them, to'th King or to the Queene?Echo: the Queene
What to the King, if this be giuen the Quene?Echo: the Queene
The Queene, there's nought more pretious: 'tis true:Echo: true
Can nothing more be added to his blisse?Echo: blisse
Blisse, the blisse of Heauen Eccho you meane sure; Echo: sure
Sure be't to them both as this our blessing; Echo: sing
Sing gentle Eccho, is that thy desire?Echo: desire
THen blessed be this paire
On the earth, in the aire,
Blessed in their Girles, and Boyes,
Let them live to heare it told,
Their grand-Grandchildren are growne old.
Let her beauty ever last,
And his vigor neuer wast.
Let the sea, that bounds these Isles,
Ebbe at least ten thousand miles:
And returne no more, but leaue
New kingdomes for them to bequeath
To the many heires they get;
And when they pay natures debt,
Let their bodies not be found
Dwelling in the sluttish ground,
But translated to those thrones,
Only built for blessed ones.
Eccho let these prayers be
Poasted vp to Heauen by thee
And if granted let vs know,
Gentle Eccho answere so Echo: so
So, then 'tis agree'd aboue Echo: aboue
That this paire shall liue, and loue:Echo: and loue
And for euer happie be Echo: happie be
In their blest posteritie.Echo: posteritie
Eccho, for this newes I'le giue Echo: giue
Leaue that thou shalt euer liue Echo: liue
In this Paradise of theirs,Echo: theirs
Theirs Eccho, 'tis no more mine,Echo: mine
Theirs, and thine, Eccho euer,Echo: euer
Fates decrees alter neuer.Echo: neuer
A Sonnet sung to the KING and QVEENE at Mr Bushells Rock.
1.
HArke, harke, how the stones in the Rocke
Strive their tongues to unlock,
And would show,
What they know,
Of the Joy here hath beene
Since the King and the Queene
Daigne to say
They would pay
A visit to this cell:
But all tongues cannot tell;
Nor language expresse
Our full thankefullnesse.
2.
Harke, harke, how the streames roule along,
And for want of a tongue
Ʋent in teares
All their feares
Least the King, least the Queene
Being come, having seene,
What we have
In this cave,
That nothing can delight
That is brought to their sight,
Or fully expresse
Our hearts thankefullnesse.
3.
Harke, harke, how the Birds in the groves
Strive to tender their loves,
For the Spring,
That the King,
And the Queene bring along:
Doe but see how they throng
With their notes
In their throats,
On each Banck, in each Bush
sits a Larke, and a Thrush,
That fayne would expresse
Their hearts thankefullnesse.
4.
Harke, harke, we humbly doe intreat
How your Hosts heart doth beate,
How it pants,
Cause it wants
What he gladly would bring
To the Queene, and the King,
Daigne to speake,
Least it breake,
Let him know you are pleas'd
That his heart may be eas'd
Or this Rock or this cave
Is his Tombe or his grave.
FINIS.