Hymnes of Astræa in acrosticke verse.

Hymnes of Astræa in acrosticke verse.

Table of contents

Title page

HYMNE I. Of Astraea.

HYMNE II. To Astraea.

HYMNE III. To the Spring.

HYMNE IIII. To the moneth of May.

HYMNE V. To the Larke.

HYMNE VI. To the Nightingale.

HYMNE VII. To the Rose.

HYMNE VIII. To all the Princes of Europe.

HYMNE IX. To Flora.

HYMNE X. To the moneth of September.

HYMNE XI. To the Sunne.

HYMNE XII. To her Picture.

HYMNE XIII. Of her Mind.

HYMNE XIIII. Of the Sun-beames of her Mind.

HYMNE XV. Of her VVit.

HYMNE XVI. Of her will.

HYMNE XVII. Of her Memorie.

HYMNE XVIII. Of her Phantasie.

HYMNE XIX. Of the Organs of her Minde.

HYMNE XX. Of the Passions of her Heart.

HYMNE XXI. Of th'innumerable Vertues of her Mind.

HYMNE XXII. Of her Wisedome.

HYMNE XXIII. Of her Iustice.

HYMNE XXIIII. Of her Magnanimitie.

HYMNE XXV. Of her Moderation.

HYMNE XXVI. To Enuie.

§

§

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HYMNES OF ASTRAEA, IN ACROSTICKE VERSE.

LONDON, Printed for I. S. 1599.

HYMNE I. Of Astraea.

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E arly before the day doth spring,

L et vs awake my Muse, and sing;

I t is no time to slumber,

S o many Ioyes this time doth bring,

A s time will faile to number.

B ut whereto shall we bend our Layes?

E uen vp to Heauen, againe to raise

T he Mayde, which thence descended

H ath brought againe the golden dayes,

A nd all the world amended.

R udenesse it selfe she doth refine,

E uen like an Alchymist diuine,

G rosse times of Iron turning

I nto the purest forme of gold:

N ot to corrupt, till heauen waxe old,

A nd be refin'd with burning.

HYMNE II. To Astraea.

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E ternall Virgin, Goddesse true,

L et me presume to sing to you.

I oue, euen great loue hath leisure

S ometimes to heare the vulgar crew,

A nd heares them oft with pleasure.

B lessed Astraea, I in part

E nioy the blessings you impart,

T he Peace, the milke and hony,

H umanity, and ciuill Art,

A richer Dower then money.

R ight glad am I that now I liue,

E uen in these daies whereto you giue

G reat happinesse and glorie;

I fafter you I should be borne,

N o doubt I should my birth day scorne,

A dmiring your sweete storie.

HYMNE III. To the Spring.

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E arth now is greene, and heauen is blew,

L iuely Spring which makes all new

I olly Spring doth enter,

S weete young Sun-beames do subdue

A ngry, aged winter.

B lasts are mild, and Seas are calme,

E uery medow flowes with Balme,

T he earth weares all her riches,

H armonious birdes sing such a Psalme

A s eare and hart bewitches.

R eserue (sweete Spring) this Nymph of ours

E ternall garlands of thy flowers,

G reene garlands neuer wasting;

I n her shall last our states faire spring,

N ow and for euer flourishing,

A s long as heauen is lasting.

HYMNE IIII. To the moneth of May.

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E ach day of thine, sweete moneth of May,

L oue makes a solemne holy-day:

I will performe like dutie,

S ince thou resemblest euery way

A straea Queene of beautie.

B oth you fresh beauties do partake,

E ithers aspect doth Sommer make:

T houghts of young Loue awaking

H earts you both do cause to ake,

A nd yet be pleasd with aking.

R ight deare art thou, and so is shee,

E uen like attractiue Sympathie,

G aines vnto both like dearenesse;

I weene this made Antiquitie

N ame thee, Sweete May of Maiestie,

A s being both like in clearenesse.

HYMNE V. To the Larke.

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E arly chearfull, mounting Larke,

L ights gentle Vsher, mornings clarke,

I n merrie Notes delighting:

S tint a while thy Song, and harke,

A nd learne my new Inditing.

B eare vp this Hymne, to heau'n it beare,

E uen vp to heau'n, and sing it there,

T o heau'n each morning beare it;

H aue it set to some sweete Sphere,

A nd let the Angels heare it.

R enownd Astraea, that great name,

E xceeding great in worth and fame,

G reat worth hath so renownd it,

I t is Astraeas name I praise,

N ow then, sweete Larke, do thou it raise,

A nd in high Heauen resound it.

HYMNE VI. To the Nightingale.

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E uery night from Euen till Morne

L oues Quirister amidde the thorne

I s now so sweet a Singer,

S o sweete, as for her Song I scorne

A pollos voice, and finger.

B ut Nightingale since you delight

E uer to watch the Starrie night,

T o all the Starres of heauen,

H eauen neuer had a Starre so bright,

A s now to earth is giuen.

R oyall Astraea makes our Day

E ternall with her beames, nor may

G rosse darkenesse ouercome her;

I now perceiue why some do write,

N o countrie hath so short a night,

A s England hath in sommer.

HYMNE VII. To the Rose.

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E ye of the garden, Queene of flowers,

L oues Cuppe wherein he Nectar poures,

I ngendred first of Nectar:

S weete nurse-child of the Springs young howres,

A nd Beauties faire Character.

B est Iewell that the earth doth weare,

E uen whē the braue yong Sun drawes neare,

T o her hoate Loue pretending;

H imselfe likewise like forme doth beare,

A t rising and descending.

R ose of the Queene of loue belou'd;

E nglands great Kings diuinely mou'd,

G aue Roses in their Banner;

I t shewed that Bewties Rose indeede,

N ow in this age should them succeede,

A nd raigne in more sweet manner.

HYMNE VIII. To all the Princes of Europe.

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E urope the Earthes sweete Paradise:

L et all thy Kings that would be wise,

I n Politique Deuotion:

S aile hither to obserue her eyes,

A nd marke her heauenly motion.

B raue Princes of this ciuill age,

E nter into this pilgrimage:

T his Saints tongue is an oracle,

H er eye hath made a Prince a Page,

A nd workes each day a Miracle.

R aise but your lookes to her, and see

E uen the true beames of Maiestie,

G reat Princes, marke her duly;

I fall the world you do suruey,

N o forehead spreades so bright a Ray,

A nd notes a Prince so truly.

HYMNE IX. To Flora.

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E mpresse of flowers, tell where a way

L ies your sweet Court this merry May,

I n Greenewich garden Allies:

S ince there the heauenly powers do play,

A nd haunt no other Vallies.

B ewty, vertue, Maiestie,

E loquent Muses, three times three,

T he new fresh houres and Graces,

H aue pleasure in this place to be,

A boue all other Places.

R oses and Lillies did them draw,

E r they diuine Astraea saw;

G ay flowers they sought for pleasure:

I n steede of gathering crownes of flowers,

N ow gather they Astraeas Dowers,

A nd beare to heauen that treasure.

HYMNE X. To the moneth of September.

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E ach Moneth hath praise in some degree;

L et May to others seeme to be

I n Sense the sweetest Season;

S eptember thou art best to me,

A nd best dost please my reason.

B ut neither for thy Corne nor Wine

E xtoll I those mild dayes of thine,

T hough corne and wine might praise thee;

H eauen giues thee honor more diuine,

A nd higher fortunes raise thee.

R enownd art thou (sweet moneth) for this,

E mong thy dayes her birth day is,

G race, plenty, peace and honor

I n one faire houre with her were borne,

N ow since they still her Crowne adorne,

A nd still attend vpon her.

HYMNE XI. To the Sunne.

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E ye of the world, fountaine of light,

L ife of day, and death of night,

I humbly seeke thy kindnesse:

S weet, dazle not my feeble sight,

A nd strike me not with blindnesse.

B ehold me mildly from that face,

E uen where thou now dost runne thy race,

T he Spheare where now thou turnest;

H auing like Phaeton chang'd thy place,

A nd yet hearts onely burnest.

R ed in her right cheeke thou dost rise;

E xalted after in her eyes,

G reat glorie there thou shewest:

I n thother cheeke when thou descendest,

N ew rednesse vnto it thou lendest,

A nd so thy Round thou goest.

HYMNE XII. To her Picture.

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E xtreame was his Audacitie;

L ittle his Skill that finisht thee,

I am asham'd and Sorry,

S o dull her counterfait should be,

A nd she so full of glory.

B ut here are colours red and white,

E ach lyne, and each proportion right;

T hese Lynes, this red, and whitenesse,

H aue wanting yet a life and light,

A Maiestie, and brightnesse.

R ude counterfait, I then did erre,

E uen now, when I would needes inferre,

G reat boldnesse in thy maker:

I did mistake, he was not bold;

N or durst his eyes her eyes behold;

A nd this made him mistake her.

HYMNE XIII. Of her Mind.

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E arth now adiew, my rauisht thought

L ifted to heau'n, sets thee at nought;

I nfinit is my longing,

S ecrets of Angels to be taught,

A nd things to heau'n belonging.

B rought downe frō heau'n of Angels kind,

E uen now do I admire her mind:

T his is my contemplation,

H er cleare sweet Spirit which is refind,

A boue Humane Creation.

R ich Sun-beame of th'aeternall light,

E xcellent Soule, how shall I wright;

G ood Angels make me able;

I cannot see but by your eye,

N or, but by your tongue, Signifie,

A thing so Admirable.

HYMNE XIIII. Of the Sun-beames of her Mind.

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E xceeding glorious is this starre;

L et vs behold her Beames a farre

I n a side lyne reslected;

S ight beares them not when neare they are

A nd in right lines directed.

B ehold her in her vertues beames,

E xtending Sun-like to all Realmes;

T he Sunne none viewes too nearely;

H er well of goodnesse in these streames,

A ppeares right well and clearely.

R adiant vertues, if your light

E nfeeble the best Iudgements sight,

G reat splendor aboue measure

I s in the minde, from whence you flow:

N o wit may haue accesse to know,

A nd view so bright a treasure.

HYMNE XV. Of her VVit.

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E ye of that mind most quicke and cleare,

L ike Heau'ns eye, which from his spheare,

I nto all things pryeth,

S ees through all things euery where,

A nd all their natures tryeth.

B right Image of an Angels wit,

E xceeding sharpe, and swift like it,

T hings instantly discerning:

H auing a Nature infinit,

A nd yet increasd by learning.

R ebound vpon thy selfe thy light,

E nioy thine owne sweete precious sight:

G iue vs but some reflection;

I t is enough for vs, if wee

N ow in her speech, now pollicie,

A dmire thine high perfection.

HYMNE XVI. Of her will.

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E uer well affected will,

L ouing goodnesse, Loathing ill,

I nestimable Treasure:

S ince such a power hath power to spill,

A nd saue vs at her pleasure.

B e thou our law, sweet will, and say

E uen what thou wilt, we will obay

T his Law, if I could reade it:

H erein would I spend night and day,

A nd study still to plead it.

R oyall free will, and onely free,

E ach other will is Slaue to thee:

G lad is each will to serue thee:

I n thee such Princely power is seene,

N o Spirit but takes thee for her Queene,

A nd thinkes she must obserue thee.

HYMNE XVII. Of her Memorie.

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E xcellent Iewels would you see,

L ouely Ladies? come with me,

I will (for loue I owe you)

S hew you as rich a Treasure,

A s East or West can shew you.

B ehold, if you can iudge of it,

E uen that great Store-house of her wit;

T hat bewtifull large Table:

H er memorie wherein is writ

A ll Knowledge admirable.

R eade this faire booke, & you shall learne

E xquisite Skill if you discerne,

G aine heau'n by this discerning;

I n such a memorie diuine,

N ature did forme the Muses nine,

A nd Pallas Queene of Learning.

HYMNE XVIII. Of her Phantasie.

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E xquisite curiositie,

L ooke on thy selfe with iudging eye,

I f ought be faultie leaue it,

S o delicate a phantasie

A s this, will straight perceiue it.

B ecause her temper is so fine,

E ndewed with harmonies diuine:

T herefore if discord strike it,

H er true proportions do repine,

A nd sadly do mislike it.

R ight otherwise a pleasure sweete,

E uer she takes in actions meete;

G racing with smiles such meetnesse;

I n her faire forehead beames appeare:

N o Sommers day is halfe so cleare,

A dornd with halfe that sweetnesse.

HYMNE XIX. Of the Organs of her Minde.

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E clipsed she is, and her bright rayes

L ie vnder vailes, yet many wayes

I s her faire forme reuealed;

S he diuersly her selfe conueyes,

A nd cannot be concealed.

B y Instruments her powers appeare

E xceedingly well tun'd and cleare:

T his Lute is still in measure,

H olds still in tune, euen like a spheare,

A nd yeelds the world sweet pleasure.

R esolue me, Muse, how this thing is,

E uer a bodie like to this

G aue heau'n to earthly creature?

I am but fond this doubt to make,

N o doubt the Angels bodies take,

A boue our common nature.

HYMNE XX. Of the Passions of her Heart.

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E xamine not th'inscrutable Hart,

L ight Muse of her, though she in part

I mpart it to the Subiect;

S earch not, although from heau'n thou art,

A nd this an Heauenly obiect.

B ut since she hath a hart, we know

E uer some passions thence do flow,

T hough euer rul'd with Honor;

H er Iudgement raignes, they waite below,

A nd fixe their eyes vpon her.

R ectified so, they in their kind

E ncrease each Vertue of her mind,

G ouern'd with mild tranquillitie;

I n all the Regions vnder Heau'n,

N o State doth beare it selfe so euen,

A nd with so sweet facilitie.

HYMNE XXI. Of th'innumerable Vertues of her Mind.

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E re thou proceede in this sweet paines,

L earne Muse how many drops it raynes

I n cold and moist December;

S umme vp May flowers & Augusts graines,

A nd grapes of mild September.

B eare the Seassands in memorie,

E arths grasses, and the starres in Skie,

T he litle moares which mounted

H ang, in the beames of Phoebus eye,

A nd neuer can be counted.

R ecount these numbers numberlesse,

E re thou her vertue canst expresse,

G reat wits this count will cumber,

I nstruct thy selfe in numbring Schooles;

N ow Courtiers vse to begge for fooles,

A ll such as cannot number.

HYMNE XXII. Of her Wisedome.

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E gle-eyed Wisedome, lifes Loadstarre,

L ooking neare on things a farre;

I oues best beloued daughter,

S howes to her Spirit all things that are,

A s loue himselfe hath taught her.

B y this straight Rule she rectifies

E ach thought that in her hart doth rise:

T his is her cleare true mirror

H er looking glasse, wherein she spies

A ll formes of Truth and Error.

R ight princely Vertue, fit to raigne,

E nthroniz'd in her Spirit remaine,

G uiding our fortunes euer;

I f we this Starre once cease to see,

N o doubt our State will Ship-wrackt be,

A nd torne and sunke for euer.

HYMNE XXIII. Of her Iustice.

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E xil'd Astraea is come againe,

L o here she doth all things maintaine

I n number, waight, and measure:

S he rules vs with delightfull paine,

A nd we obey with pleasure.

B y Loue shee rules more then by Law,

E uen her great mercy breedeth awe:

T his is her Sword and Scepter,

H erewith she hearts did euer draw,

A nd this Guard euer kept her.

R eward doth sit in her right hand:

E ach Vertue thence takes her Garland

G ather'd in Honors garden:

I n her left hand (wherein should be

N ought but the Sword) sits Clemencie,

A nd conquers Vice with pardon.

HYMNE XXIIII. Of her Magnanimitie.

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E uen as her State, so is her Mind,

L isted aboue the vulgar kind:

I t treades proud Fortune vnder,

S un-like it sits aboue the wind,

A boue the stormes, and Thunder.

B raue Spirit, large Heart, admiring nought

E steeming each thing as it ought,

T hat swelleth not, nor shrinketh:

H onor is alwaies in her thought,

A nd of great things she thinketh.

R ocks, Pillars, and heau'ns Axel-tree,

E xemplifie her Constancie;

G reat changes neuer chaunge her:

I n her Sexe feares are wont to rise,

N ature permits, Vertue denies,

A nd scornes the face of daunger.

HYMNE XXV. Of her Moderation.

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E mpresse of kingdomes thongh she be,

L arger is her Soueraigntie,

I f she her selfe do gouerne;

S ubiect vnto her selfe is shee,

A nd of her selfe true Soueraigne;

B ewties Crowne though she do weare,

E xalted into Fortunes chaire,

T hron'd like the Queene of Pleasure:

H er Vertues still possesse her Eare,

A nd counsell her to Measure.

R eason, if she incarnate were,

E uen Reasons selfe could neuer beare

G reatnesse with Moderation;

I n her one temper still is seene,

N o libertie claimes she as Queene,

A nd showes no alteration.

HYMNE XXVI. To Enuie.

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E nuie go weepe, my Muse and I

L augh thee to scorne; thy feeble Eye

I s dazled with the glorie

S hining in this gay poesie,

A nd litle golden Storie.

B ehold how my proud quil doth shed

E ternall Nectar on her head:

T he pompe of Coronation

H ath not such power her fame to spread,

A s this my admiration.

R espect my Pen as free and franke,

E xpecting not Reward nor Thanke;

G reat wonder onely moues it;

I neuer made it mercenary;

N or should my Muse this burthen carie

A s hyr'd, but that she loues it.

FINIS.

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Information about this book

Title statement

Hymnes of Astræa in acrosticke verse.

Davies, John, Sir, 1569-1626.

Edition statement

1599

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Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

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Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A19923

ID [STC]

STC 6351

ID [STC]

ESTC S105202

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99840931

ID [PROQUEST]

99840931

ID [VID]

5475

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A19923)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 5475)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 380:04)

Source

— Hymnes of Astræa in acrosticke verse., Davies, John, Sir, 1569-1626..

Extent

[2], 26 p.

Printed [by R. Field] for I. S[tandish],. London :: 1599.. (By Sir John Davies.) (In verse; in each hymn, the first letters of the lines make up "Eliza betha Regina".) (Printer's and publisher's names from STC.) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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