LONDON, Printed by J. G. for Charles Web, at the Golden Boars-head in Saint Paul's Church-yard, 165 [...].

To the Right Honourable, MARY, Dutchess of Richmond and Lenox, &c.

Illustrious Lady,

IN these destructive Times, the Conco­mitants of Pride and Envy are swollen up to such Vehemency and Vigor, [Page] that whereof wit should be che­rish'd by Indulgency, it is even massacred with remorseless Ty­ranny, and turn'd out naked to the worlds tuition. The strong Oaks of Apollo are fallen by the hand of Nature: and the tender aspiring Sprigs, (which were wont to shroud under them) are left like Jonas, without a Gourd, and have not the pas­sive power left, which should carry them through the furious Hurricane which the evil spirit of this Age hath conjured up a­mong us: wherefore I presume [Page] (and indeed my presumption is great) to appeal to your Honor, as the only Sanctuary left me for refuge, not wholly doubting Your disdain (which I might justly fear, were not Your Can­dor above my Merit.) I am no Parasite, I will not offend You with superfluous Oratory; Nor be a Sycophant to Your Vertue. The world is well e­nough acquainted, and needs no pretended Herauld to proclaim You Prudent and Pious. May it but cohere with Your pleasure to aspect the endeavour of my [Page] Muse with a serene Eye, and You will superabundantly feli [...]citate him who is

Your Honours Poor Servant, HUGH CROMPTON.



THe condition of our Fortunes many times unhasps our Resolu­tions. I had bound up my Mu­ses in a bundle, intending them only for waste paper, the imploy­ments of my Profession increa­sing, and (as I thought) likely to continue upon [...]e. But the succession of a worse fate having [...]isimploy'd me, I resum'd the Quill (that idle­ [...]ess might not sway) and for want of a better [...]bour in my ramble, gathered this Sallad from [...]arnassus, and washt it in Helicon. But thou must find Oyl and Vinegar, and Sugar it with thy good conceit if thou pleasest. Errors thou shalt have many, it may please the better, since [Page] the time glories in them. Yet if thou pinch too hard, I have learned to cry Peccavi. Enter, and peradventure it will please, if not, the remedy is remov'd; for I have done, onely subscribing my selfe

Thine, as thou art Mine, HUGH CROMPTON.


I. Bacchus.

COme jolly God Bacchus, and open thy [...]ore,
Let the big-belly'd G [...]apes of their burden be eased:
Let thy liberality freely flow o're,
For 'tis by thy bounty that we are appeased.
It is Sack that we lack,
It is Sack that we crave;
It is Sack that we fight for, and Sack we will have.
Let pining Heraclytus drink of his Tear,
And sniv'ling Tymon lye sick in his cell;
And let the course Bumpkin preach law in his beer,
But 'tis Wine makes our fame and our glory to swell.
It is Wine makes divine
All our wits, and renownes
The Peasant wi [...]h Scepters, the Shepherd with Crowns.
He that spends his money for honour, and climes
In the trees of triumph, may sit there and pause;
All he gets for his pains is the errour of times,
Nurst up by the Pandars of vulgar applause:
But the gold that is sold
For Canary, brings wit,
And there is no honour compared to it.
Some love to weare sattin, and shine in their silk,
Yet quickly their fashion will alter and vary;
Sometime they'l eat mutton, sometime they'l drink milk:
But I am for ever in tune for Canary.
It is sack that doth make
All our wants to be nothing,
For we do esteem it both meat, drink, and clothing.
A green goose serves Easter, with gooseberries drest;
And July affords us a dish of green peason;
A Collar of Brawn is New-years-tide Feast;
But sack is for ever and ever in season:
'Twill suffice all the wise
Both at all times and places,
It is a good friend to all tempers and cases.
Then farewell Metheglin, thou dreg of the hives,
And Cider, thou bastardly darling of Summer;
You dull the quick blood that Canary revives:
Then fill me a pottle of Sack in a rummer;
For Ile drink till each chink
Be full, and 'tis but reason;
And then I shall have no room to harbour treason.

II. The Power.

BLest Rosella, shall I praise thee?
With wits herauldry emblaze thee?
Or with strong Encomiums raise thee?
No, I need not; I should spoile thee,
Rhymes and Raptures would defile thee,
And of thy own light beguile thee.
If the Muses I should muster,
And of Wits bring the whole cluster.
They could not unlock thy lustre.
All the verge of my desire
Is not to advance thee higher▪
But thy vertues to admire.
For th'art of such force and vigor,
Thou canst make the mountains bigger,
And restrain the Lions rigour.
Start the Stoick from his station,
Urge a dead man into passion;
And allarm a drowzy nation.
Make the Bull to break his bridle;
And the Asse would not be idle,
Till he plaid upon the fiddle.
Cause the Thief to break his halter;
And the Saint his zeal to alter;
Making thee to be his Psalter.
And now I wish that I could win thee,
Or on my sleeve that I might pin thee,
Or set my Standard up within thee.

III. The Apprentice.

TIme mend thy pace, thy sands but slowly run;
Eight weeks seem longer then eight twelve moneths gone:
Sure th' art asleep, thou dost not make such hast
To help me as thou hast done in times past.
[Page 5] Stay'st thou to hear the Syrens whilst they sing?
Or has the rust of age impair'd thy wing?
Have I affronted thee? did I declare
Thy faults, and set them out in secular?
Did I e're babble that the times were bad?
Or did I grumble at the tricks you had?
No, I have prais'd you, and was ever free
To glosse you out with an apology.
Why then this sloth? (dull Mower) can it be
That with revenge you'l pay a courtesie?
Now I've most need of Time, & [...]in would hug him,
His forehead's grown so bald I cannot lug him.
If thou art sick, then prethee wear a cap;
For I am fearfull thou hast got a clap,
Thy loyns are grown so stiff; and thou dost creep
As though the primum mobile were asleep.
I prethee rouze thy spirits, and let slip
Some gentle gale on my apprenticeship.
I see the haven, but if thou deprive
Me of thine aid, I never shall arrive.
But why should I petition to a soul
Impenetrable, that will not condole
The saddest sorrows; nor concede unto
The strongest prayers, or the deepest Oh?
He wait thy motion, be it slow or fast;
I know thou canst not but conclude at last:
And when th'art ended, Ile detest thee more▪
Then ere I gave thee honour heretofore.
Oh here's my grief, this smothers all my joy;
[...] can but say I am a prentice-boy.
[Page 6] I must be ready at each beck and call,
And if I fail, my bones must pay for all.
And this is long of thee (Time) wer [...] thou ended,
Then all these misdemeanours would be mended.
But Ile take courage, and make woes divine,
With sacred Nectar and Falernian wine:
For I have studied Physick, and am sure
I've no disaster but what wine will cure.

IV. The Discharge.

WEll, 'tis enough, I've charm'd each thought
That mov'd my fancy into crimes:
My little wits I've largely bought,
And now Ile vex no more at times.
Let States run round,
My muse is bound
O're to the peace, I will give o're;
I've said too much, I'le say no more.
I have been punish'd for my sin,
And now my state of life I'le change;
Experience jogs me to begin
A fixed frame, and cease to range.
Ile be content
With Parliament,
With a Protector, or a King,
With House of Lords, or any thing.
Why should I strive? what's it to me,
Whatever chance in State doth fall?
No rotten M [...]ler I will be,
Since it avails no good at all.
Heart, tongue and Hand
Shall slily stand,
Attending stories high or low,
As Hench-boyes to their Masters do.
Let this man wear a sparkling Crown,
And in his hand a Scepter hold;
Let him take't up, or lay it down,
It gains me neither drosse nor gold:
But if I grutch
'Twill lose me much;
And this resembles him that doubles
His own industry for his troubles.
Therefore my fancy does decline,
And Virgin-like Ile stand demure;
So shall I ease this heart of mine,
And drink my sacred wine secure;
And laugh at those
That do oppose
State-turns, and every change regard,
Receiving ruine for reward.

V. The Conceit.

GIve me the boul, the jolly boul
Fill'd to the brim with Claret:
And since the Crown from th' head doth roll,
Upon my nose Ile wear it,
Ile weare it there, and 'tis no crime
If I conceive my self sublime.
I have a heart within my breast
That no misfortune knows,
And will not languish in the least,
While Fancy comes and goes.
No alteration me confines,
While my poor Muse doth bro [...]ze the vines.
I bu [...]then not my brains at all
With Parliamentall matters;
With who shall stand or who shall fall,
Or shall be torn in tatters.
I push out Ladies with my paw,
For I have read the Salique Law.
I am as great, perhaps as good
As them that boldly slay
The Root and Branch of noble blood,
Princes & caetera.
Each Martyrs Ghost haunts them, we see,
When there's no fate has power on me.
Yet I adore the sacred Stream
O'th' Bacchanalian vain.
Whose pleasures yield a boundlesse Theam:
Then fill the boul again.
If this be vain, you must submit,
Your glory's far more vain then it.

VI. The Encomium.

REach me a golden pen that writes
Such curious Raptures as the Court affords;
Such dainty Language as delights
Ladies saluted by their sprighly Lords:
Such as may paint the feature of Adonis,
Or tell a blind man how serene the Sun is.
Oh 'tis my dear, the subject now
Wherein to sport my sporting Muse incites me;
And 'tis the splendour of her brow;
Whose fair reflexes on my Muse inlights me.
Bright Star of Majesty, methinks I see
The Gods and Angels strive to worship thee.
So sweet a lip, so pure a cheek,
Such graces seated in her chrystall eye,
As Paris might in Helen seek;
Such food in Juno Jove did ne're enjoy:
Tongues must be silent, phrases are too light,
Textor can teach us no such Epithet.
Therefore I must content my passion,
That now is grown so furious and so proud,
Not with my pen, but speculation;
And this must be too through some velvet cloud:
For if I see her clear whom I adore,
Her beams will blind me, I shall see no more.

VII. Winifred.

SHe is facetious, of a gentle nature,
Well educated, of a seemly stature,
[Page 11] Pleasant and lovely, full of witty knacks,
[...] as all perfections, and there's none she lacks:
She's young, she's old, she is both stale and new,
She is a virgin and a woman too.
She is religious; nay Ile tell you more,
She is a Lady and she is a whore.

VIII. Honesty.

IN Lov's school I've lately enter'd,
And have chose my nuptial mate;
On her vertues I have ventur'd,
E're I counted her estate.
I have seen her grace exceeding
All the stroke of wanton girls:
I priz'd her bounty and her breeding
Richer then a thousand pearls.
And such wealth will [...] ne're be spent all,
Her vertuous soul cannot decay:
And where such beauty's ornamentall,
Who can turu their hearts away?
And therefore my love Ile cherish,
Till I make my blisse divine;
And let me for ever perish
When I cease from being thine.

IX. The Farewell to the World.

SInce the world doth deceive ev'ry one that doth [...] cleave▪
To't, I now take my leave
From the pleasures thereof, and begin to abhor it:
And did you but know as much as I do,
You'd say I had reason sufficiently for it.
What's the best of the worth that the world doth set [...] forth▪
From the South to the North?
If you look but with reason upon it, it's rotten.
Wherein shall I trust? when I'm laid in the dust,
The flags of my glory will all be forgotten.
What's the Prince in his Throne, or the Lord of the [...] town,
Or the States-man in's gown?
If the sound of their titles do onely support 'um,
Their fame will not last till ages are past;
And the things they aspire at will surely come short home.
What's the Courtier in plush, or his Mistress's blush,
If she stands every push?
[...] not worth the touch of a Gentlemans Lac­quey:
If you stick to her close you may forseit your nose;
[...] 'has that in her panniers will presently wrack ye.
What's the Mayor in his ruff, or the Souldier in buff,
And his ruffling stuff,
If their powers do serve them but onely to chat on?
They are as grosse as the Clown, that comes and sits down,
While his amorous Mistresse makes water with's hat on.
What's the Nun in her nook, or the Clerk from his book,
Or the Judges grim look,
When the pris'ners applaud him with Oh good my Lord Sir?
Take him but from the Law, and he's not worth a straw;
Bid him parse the Greek Grammer, he knows not a word sir.
What's the Miser in's dross, who is fearfull of loss?
All his hopes are but mosse;
And the zeal of his fashion is in his trunk-breeches:
But the Scull in his boat, or the Fool in his coat,
Hath a far larger portion of freedom and riches.
'Tis the soul that doth shape his designs by the grap [...]
Doth all sorrows escape,
And is freed from the curses of danger and trouble [...]
And I tell you no lie, such a soul I enjoy,
And I find my good qualities daily redouble.

X. The Puff.

BE gone ye dull lights of the world with yo [...] vapours,
He's curst that relies on your pitiful look;
He's blest that doth banish you out of his book:
Your matter con [...]umes, and it dies like your tapour [...]
It moulders away like the drammes of a day,
And there's no man doth find it enough to conten [...] him;
The best it will do is to cheat and prevent him:
I neither will value your promise nor powers,
I will not aspire at the uppermost throne:
Give me but an Angel, take whose will the Crown [...]
All goodness that thence doth accrew's like th [...] showers
That fall in the springs, or the bird that now sings,
And is hush: from her bush by a puff: if you measure▪
You'l find there is more of distraction then pleasure [...]
[...]ere can be no merit nor object of honour
More worthy then this, for a man to command
His glasses as subjects, his pots as a land:
He that can do this has all wealth, for he won her;
And then he may scorn to be overborn
By the trampling feet of the Court, or obey them;
His freedome of mind doth out wit aud o're-sway them.
Do you but anoynt me with unction of bottles,
Then I will be King, and then I will be Prince;
Then I will confute, and then I will convince,
And teach you more knowledge then ten Aristotles:
And I will not fear then your almighty men,
Whose terrible voices can shake the foundations
Of great ones and small ones all over the nations.
Then I and my people would joyntly conspire,
[...]e sway them by love, and they shall not [...]efuse,
[...]e cheer up my spirits and strengthen my Muse
By the wholsome heat of Bacchus his fire;
And I will not care how State matters shall go:
'Tis not the great Soldan himself nor his asses
Can prove the least title they have to our glasses▪
He has but the genius of power to rule us.
My Fancy's an Island that lives by the store
Of its own native riches, and needeth no more.
Why then should the Lord of the Ocean befool us?
Let's drink a free health to our own Common [...] wealth;
For Ile burn out this lump of my body to ashes,
Before Ile be frighted by fools or their flashes.

XI. The Ejection.

NOw I have wean'd my wits aside
From Melancholy's dismall breast;
And from thy conceited care my genius bids for­bear,
And will no more the duggs abide,
That kept her soul unblest
Of nourishment and rest.
I've sent sad thoughts to be exil'd
I'th' broker of Oblivions book:
I vow I will give o're, & range about no more,
To seek for glory, pomp or gold.
All time thus spent we spill,
Insatiate souls to fill.
World, I have tri'd thee, and I see
The frailty of thy temper such,
As secretly deludes each fancy that intrudes
On that supposed good of thee.
Far off you promise much,
Yet crumble by each touch.
Why then (dull fate) should I desire
To wait upon thy wavering heels?
I know thy wanton tricks, alas thou canst not fix
More then the mettal in the fire:
Who, ere thy goodness feels,
It slips away like Eeles.
My aspiration at the Throne,
My dartings at Nobility,
My labour for the word of Worship, or my Lord,
Shall fall into Oblivion.
Gooodness is alter'd in mine eye,
Worms take it, what care I.
Place me but on the jovial joint
Of Bacchus his fraternal crew,
There we will govern point by point:
Wee'l drink deep healths to you,
And make no more ado.

12. The Suit.

AH me, Rosella! what dost meane?
Must I weane
From thee mine eyes away so quick?
Can one glance
Ere advance
Future hopes, or a dance
To remain in my breast? I am sick.
I am deeply sick of love;
Come, remove
These mists away by thy bright face:
You can cease
(If you please)
The rage of my diseases,
'Tis your sweet presence doth it chase.
Have you a heart to teare and rent
My content?
Is this the rhetorick of your zeale?
Have you vow'd
To be proud?
'Cause Nature you indow'd
With beauty both to kill and heale?
Oh stay and doe not leave the City:
Heale me for love or else for pity.

13. Loves best object.

SOme say, that they
Will onely love where beauty lies:
But sure such lovers lose their way,
And Cupid blinds their slippery eyes;
Such gilded love
Unfixt will prove,
And various as the weather.
For look when beauty doth decay,
Then it and love will die together.
Some say, that they
To wealthy girles will onely share
Their hungry soules, but these (I say)
Deceitfull sons of Venue are:
For the intent
Of him that's bent
Unto such base affection,
Is rather riches to enjoy
Then vertuous parts, or good complection.
Some say, that they
Will onely turn their wandring eyes,
And stragling spirits to obey
[Page 20] The Nymphs of Pallas, grave and wise.
Such love as this
Most noble is,
And highly to be prised.
But make not wit your only prey,
If you by me will be advised.
Some say that they
At Vertues center only shoot:
And such as these might find the way
To happiness, if they would do't.
But yet (alas)
Aside they pass,
And misapply their prizes;
For those that vertues be (they say)
By trial prove but rotten vices.
But now, I vow
I'le tell you how it's best to love.
Love ver [...]ue, wealth, wit, beauty too;
And this will not unhappy prove:
How bright and clear
Shall she appear,
To a judicious lover,
Who in his apprehensions may,
These (clearly) all in one discover?

14. To our Mistresses.

LAdies, expell your formal tricks,
Whereby you wrong your longing nature;
Strip ye your selves, and scorn to mix
Such masks and myst'ries in the creature.
Cog ye, and quibble, and do what ye ca [...]
Ye are created for the use of man.
Why do ye flinch, and bend your brows,
When we demand if ye are willing
To wait on Venus? each man knows
Your fresh doth lust, and asks fulfilling.
Fain, flatter, and do what ye can,
Ye are created for the use of man.
We know your natures, and desire,
Which you conceal with modesty:
We know the thing you most require,
In soft pretences sweetly you deny.
We know you labour all you can
To sport, and dally, and embrace with man.
Since then in man you so delight;
Since he's the summe of your affection;
[Page 22] Since 'tis for him your fancies fight,
And make intestine insurrection,
Cast by your coyest veiles, and then
Present your naked bodies unto men.
Pine not away with inward fire,
Waste not your beauty with pretence;
Wrong not (with ecchoes) your desire,
Nothing but sorrows spring from hence.
Cast by your blankets once agen,
Present your persons unto naked men.

15. An Epithalme.

GOe, goe to bed, brook no delay,
The Curfew. Saints-bell calls away,
Let Mars with Venus freely play.
Be gone, be gone, let modesty
Not check your fancies, but enjoy
These nuptiall pleasures legally.
Doll, draw the curtains, let the eyes
Of day be dark, lest she surprize
These (dove-like) sporting Didymies.
Let stupid Morpheus be exil'd,
Till (arme in arme) you both compil'd
Have laid down earnest for a child.

16. The Comparison.

HAve yon beheld the Apple-trees
How they will moulder by degr
In luke-warm Autumn, and how ba [...]e
In winter time their bodies are?
Then they are dead, but when the spr [...]
Her plant-reviving bell shall ring,
These withered trees begin again
To dresse themselves, and all the tra [...]
Of saplesse suckets that were dead,
With verdure will b'invelloped.
So 'tis with my faire Rose, for she
But now ('cause with frigiditie
She's toucht) seem'd dul and dead; but when
Loves spring returns, she'l love agen;
So that the tender plant and tree
With my blest Roses love agree:
Onely they differ in the time,
(Which makes her vertue more sublime)
The trees receive reviving power
But once a year, she every houre.

17. Man.

POor Man,
Why boasts he thus?
It is but for a spanne
That hee must tarry here with us.
Can he his dayes recall? or can he reine
Times nimble Steeds, and call them back againe
He bragges,
And takes delight
T' unfold the tattered flagges
Of his own vertues, in the sight
Of every eye: but there is no reflection
Of his owne eyes to his owne imperfection
A calm of rest.
Deceitful peace doth win
The flexile byas of his breast,
To dote on earth: but she disbands her power,
And loses all her glory in an houre.
A bre [...]th
Produces Joy,
Another, woes or death.
Thus he 'twixt hope and fear doth lie,
His sweets are mixt with, sowers, and his glory's
As apt to varie as the Childe of Doris.
Hee's crost,
Disturb'd, and vext;
Hurried, enrag'd, and tost
By louzy Fortune, and perplext,
While he has life; and yet he loaths to heare
[...]eaths doleful Bell man jangling at his eare:
By life,
(Which he adores,
Which to preserve there is such strife;
And for that end, in's flesh he stores
Deaths Antidotes) he is deceived (alas)
often proves the greatest foe hee has.
Hee's lost,
But tell me why:
'Tis thus, because he'l boast
Of Earth, and Earths felicity;
His judgement's blinded, and he thinks amiss,
Like prick-ear'd Midas. Hee is lost in this.
By death
Good souls of glory
Receive a joyful sheath;
Yet talk of death, he hates the story:
And what's the reason? why the reason's clear,
Tis 'cause he dreams there is no heaven but here.

18. On the renowned, Mary Villers, Dutchesse Richmond, &c. An Acrostick.

Most reverend Madam (in whose sacred breast
All vertue dwells, and heavens wealth doth rest)
Receive these feeble raptures, which aspire
Your worth t'imblazon, and your parts admire.
Villers (thou darling of that light divine,
In whom thy Maker and his grace doth shine)
Long mayst thou live, long mayst thou reign in peace
Long may thy vertues thrive & never cease.
Early and late, may all the Saints attend thee;
Rich robes of Glory may the Angels lend thee;
(Sweet soule) and 'tis my prayer, Let God defen [...] thee▪

19. The Acrostick reduplicate.

Might I but worship, and the Idoll free,
Ah Madam, thou shouldst be my Deity.
Religion, breeding, birth, renown and worth,
Yea every ornament Villers holds forth.
Vast is our theme, as though the Gods intended
In thee the pride of nature should be mended.
Love is thy Lacquey, Modesty thy Child,
Lewdnesse thy foe, and every vice exil'd:
Eternall blisse is thy prepared prize.
Rule thou as Goddesse in the earths disguise,
So shall my soule become thy sacrifice.

20. The degrees of Bacchus.

HEre I will closely stand to my devotion,
And wil not stir til we have dreyn'd the ocean.
[...]re Ile commence brave matters, and aspire
[...] Bacchus schoole, till I can climb no higher.
[...]awer attend me with a cheerfull cheek,
[...]nd doe not let my liquor be to seek:
[...]r if thou dost, vile brat, (by Jove) I tell ye,
[...] mortifie thy bones into a jelly.
The I. Glasse.
[...]ah, what is this? the biting of a flea
[...]nto a Beare, a drop onto the sea.
[...]ull rogue, recrute my cup, fill up the pot,
[...]ep nothing void, nature admits it not.
[...]st thou not heard it on Apollo's drum,
[...]atura non admittit vacuum?
[...]pply, supply me with another quick;
[...]his is devoured even at a lick.
[...]gain, again recrute, and do not smother
[...] good beginning: help me with another;
[...]nd yet another, with a nimble hand.
[...]uick, be obedient unto my command.
[...]hese are but empty Prologues, you shall find
[...]here is a Scene of honour lies behind.
All this is nothing to a dusty brain.
Rehearse thy duty, fill the glass again.
So, now I taste it's nature, but (alas)
All this is nothing, fill the other glass.
This whets the appetite, me thinks I find
Room for a volly coming yet behind.
Now I could smile, and in a chearful tone
Sing out the praises of my sack alone.
So, stay a little, and anon you'l see
Which is the strongest, or my wits, or thee
My brave Canary. No excess will grow
On either side. Cork-like, my wits they flow
Upon this liquor; and as that ascends,
So thrives my wit, and to the world extends.
Brave Wine I vow, a Cordial to my heart:
Now I commence a Batchelor of Art.
Now I am Master and a Doctor too;
Law, Physick and Divinity I'le shew
All in a volume. Here's the liquor'd Letter;
And being liquor'd it will work the better.
Here's Art refin'd, sweet Musick I have found;
My head strikes up, and all my brains dance roun [...]
Here's Grammars Key, now I have undertook
[Page 29] [...]peak all tongues without a Construing book.
[...]gick and Rhetorick here recorded are;
[...]e's every thing that's pleasant and that's rare.
[...] that Apollo was but here to see
[...] harmony betwixt my cups and me!
[...] that proud Hercules stood here before me!
[...] make him kneel, and tremblingly adore me.
[...]ould he not shiver to behold me stand
[...]th a full glass of Nectar in my hand;
[...] with a hand full and a head full too?
[...]d run away, and glad he scaped so.
[...]st noble drink, how are my thoughts unsnar'd?
[...] thinks I am a man of great regard.
[...]w I conjecture that the world is mine;
[...]ugh to see adversity repine,
[...]cause I flourish. Both the Turk and Pope
[...]nd bare to me, bo [...] pleading (with small hope)
[...]r a poor pension. O beloved Sack,
[...]ving but thee, I've all, and do not lack.
[...]ere's wealth and riches, and here's beauty bright,
[...]ere's Vertue and her Ladies of delight.
[...]ere is the hand of Midas, (and that's much)
[...]hich turneth all to gold that it doth touch.
[...]ere is the pride of men, this makes small odds
[...]etwixt our priviledges and the gods.
[...]hen welcom Sack (brave Sack) with all my heart;
[...]ith thee I'le live and die, and never part.
[...]ow to the stars I go, and in my pride,
[...]ecome a Deity bestellifi [...]d,
[Page 30] With glittering Nymphs (Diana-like) that be
Set there on purpose to imbellish me.
From Pole to Pole my fancy flies, to clear
All insurrections that are gathered there:
I dispossess bold Boreas, and asswage
The stubborn sallies of his turdy rage.
Clearing the air of gloomy clouds, and then
I'le kick down Persens from his seat agen;
And take the sloven that Lucina bears,
And pull him from his Mistress by the ears.
And being mounted on her Chrystal brest,
There will I sip my solace and my rest.
In her sweet bed of spices will I play
From day till night, and then from night till day.
Though Venus frown I care not, for I lack
No heart to daunt a foe, when fill'd with Sack.
There do I triumph in my glorie, for
I need not bow to each competitor.
But laugh to see how sadly they repine,
And cannot climbe unto such fate as mine.
There do I smile to see our Zealots creep
In clods of earth, half 'wake, and half asleep,
Like crawling Tortoises; while I arise
Mounting aloft (like Eagles in the skies:)
Then welcome Sack, the only wings that carry
A soul into Elysium, is Canary.

21. Her Continence.

TIs not the force o'th' golden shower,
That once so bounteously did poure
[...]nto Dana [...]'s lap, that can
Make my chaste Rose a Courtesan
[...]o Jupiter; she will not stay
[...]er motion (like Atalanta)
[...]or th' golden Apples that are flung
[...]rom th' Wardrobe of a flattering tongue.
[...]o, y' are mistaken, she is none
[...]f that slight mettal. Shee'l not owne
[...]mooth Sycophanters; neither will
[...]he slumber carelesly, until
Great Jove the thund'rer shall descend,
[...] There being no one to defend
[...]er from the furies of such fate,)
And as she sleeps, divirginate
[...]he tender girl, as once (you know)
[...]e did unto fair C [...]listo:
[...]nd then (t' augment her first despair)
[...]ransforms the Wench into a Bear.
Nor is she like nights queen, that stept
And kist Endimion as he slept:
[...]eaving her dear Apollo bright,
[...]hat [...]till reguilds her horns with light:
And leaves her own Celestial mirth
For the dull plea [...]ures on the earth.
No, no, my Rose will never move
[Page 32] The steddy bias of her love
Like wav'ring Goddesses: 'tis she
Exceeds them all in constancy.
And for thy sake my constant Rose,
The crossest wind that ever blows
Shall not untwist that firm decree
That Heaven seal'd 'twixt thee and me.
If wealthy Juno should present
Her self with all th' Emolument
That e're she had, I should refuse
Her riches, and take thee to chuse.
If solid C [...]res should adorn
My granaries with heaps of [...]orn,
Upon condition, that soon after
I'de wed my self unto her daughter;
I'de heed her not: if Pallas should
A Cabinet to me unfold
Of all her gemmes, I'de not dismount
My love from Rose on this account.
In Rose there's Juno, Pallas too,
And there'sa Venus fair and true;
Mistake me not, Rose is not base,
Shee's not in act there, but in face.
Therefore (dear Rose) what e're betide us,
It shall but wound us, not divide us.

22. The Soliloquy.

I Have no riches, neither know
I where the Mines of Silver grow;
The golden age I cannot find,
Yet there is plenty in my mind.
'Tis wealth I crave, 'tis wealth that I require;
Yet there's no wealth to fill my vain desire;
Nor hopes thereof to still my craving lyre.
What shall I do in such a case?
I am accounted mean and base.
Both friends and strangers frown on me,
[...] Cause I am gaul'd with poverty.
Well, let them frown, yet I will not lament,
Nor value them, though fortune has not lent
To me her blessings, yet 1 have content!
Alas poor plant of low esteem,
How base of thee the world doth deem?
[...]'me but an object, could my name
But once procure the wings of fame;
Then like Apollo, glittering in the skies
I'de ride triumphant, and I'de tympanise,
Daring the apples of all humane eyes.
I, but I am not so sublime
In parts and merits, as to clime
Into the high terrestrial story
[Page 34] Of [...]ame, triumph, renown, and glory:
Yet my content shall vanquish my disease.
Perhaps if I should climb such stairs as these,
(Like Icarus) I might salute the Seas.
For glory has but waxen wings;
It's like the voice of one that sings
A Prick-song ditty, now he yauls
With mounted voice, and then he falls:
So falls our fame, for censure will exile it,
And ill look't Envy quickly discompile it:
The least disaster may at last defile it.
I but poor warm, diseases pierce
The thin and slender universe
Of my poor flesh, weak flesh, yet I
Can find no help nor remedy;
But yet I care not, there's a healthful wind.
Survey Philosophy, and you shall find,
Sick flesh it better then a sickly mind.
Then farewel care for carnal wealth,
For worldly fame, and fleshly health:
Il'e use no Doctor, while I find
A wholsome temper in my mind.
I will not grieve, no fate shall make me vary▪
Both cross and loss shall be no adversary,
Il'e wash down all with glasses of Canary.

23. The Lovers form.

LAdy behold, a bruise that lies within
The folded carpet of our skin,
Will at the length be clearly found
To work it self into a wound
That's visible, and will be seen
Unto the eye both fresh and green:
Or like the ember-sparks that lie
Rak't up in tenebrosity,
Which by degrees become a flame:
Even such is Love; and mine's the same
To you fair Madam: Therefore know,
That as these sparks of Love do grow
Within my breast, I must discover
My self to be your faithful lover.
Nor do I speak with feigned tongue,
Projecting at your smallest wrong.
For my intention's sound and true;
(Lady) I' me deep in love with you.
Your vertues and your beauty joynd,
Have kindled love up in my mind:
And such a flame that I am sure
Ther's none beside your self can cure.
Therefore (sweet Mistress) do you please
By loving me again to ease
My wounded heart, which must be yours
While I am mine, or life endures.

24. To my friends R. A. I. an Epithalme.

BEloved Couple may the Gods
So rectifie you, that no odds
May ere distermine or divide
The Gordian knot which ye have ti'd.
Let earnest frownings ne're unfashion
Your calm content, nor raise your passion.
May all your acts and postures be
Of Cupids brave Artillery:
And may the greatest of your strife
(While you shall breath the breath of life)
No greater be, but that a cup
Of kissing lips may take it up.
Long may you live, long may you be
The darlings of felicity.
With health and wealth may fate salute ye,
As well as nature did with beauty.

25. Another.

BRight stars of beauty, and more bright
In every vertue. Since your light
Is joyn'd and mingled, I will pray
To Jove and Juno that there may
Be no Ecclipse, nor breach of love
To hide your glories, or to move
Your peaceful bosom. whilst you be
[Page 37] By Heaven allow'd this unity.
O 'tis my wish, and my desire,
That every action should conspire,
And every power may comply
Even for your tranquillity.
Thus may you thrive, till ye inherit
The livelyhood your vertues merit.

26. To Zoilus.

WHen I remember what mine eyes have seen,
And what mine ears have heard,
Concerning Muses too too young and green;
And how they have been jeer'd:
T' expose my own I am afear'd.
And yet this fear decreases, when I call
To my tempestuous mind,
How the strong loines of Phoebus children all,
Have fall'n by censures wind:
And in their road what rocks they find:
But then fresh thoughts my breast surprising, lend
More stripes of Eglantine:
For if with strongest Muses they contend,
And at such wits repine;
Much more they'l strike at mine.
When snotty Zoilus his detested breed
Shall their dull fingers lay
Upon my volumes, and begin to read
Th' included lines, he'l say
I am but Bacchus boy.
And what renowned rhymes can be expected
From him that's sopt in juyce
Of guzling Aristippus, and infected
With liquor too profuse?
His wits are drown'd in's cruse.
Thus by my person he'l my Poems measure,
'Cause I am young and poor;
(And who can hinder't if it be his pleasure?)
He'l say my wit's no more▪
And I his lash must feel therefore.
Well, what of this, though in his furious rage,
With belching words he saies
I am a child, a child and under age,
Ith' non age of my days?
This addes the more unto my praise.
But now to you, the lamps of humane wit,
And pillars of discretion;
That on the vertex of Parnassus fit,
Retaining full possession
Of prudence, far beyond expression:
You that can please Mecaenas, if you please;
And daily drink your fills
Of wit, by courting the Pierides,
Which do invite your quills
To move, as water turns the mills:
If you but please to cast your eys upon
The off-springs of my brain,
With censure soft; and see what I have done
With love, and not disdain:
I have enough of joyful gain.
And for reward, this promise I will give,
If ye will but incline
To tread within the limits where I live,
(Though all at me repine)
You shall be serv'd with noble wine.
The which I'le boast of to transcend the drinks
Wherein the Gods delight:
Here's genuine Nectar, that's defil'd and stinks.
O here's a lovely golden bright;
A taste that charms the appetite:
What though my drowzy Muse is too too dull,
Wanting some grains of weight?
Yet Pipes they flow, and Hogsheads they are full
Of liquor pure and right,
To which I do you all invite.
Excluding Zoilus, and his crazy crew
[...] hat fanci'd to contest
With Vulcans honest servant, 'cause there grew
No window in his breast.
Let them drink Ale and be unblest.

27. The way to Wooe.

HE that would love, and gladly win
Th' objected scope of his affections;
Then let him not conceive 'tis sin
T' attempt the mark by my directions.
The God of love (yon know) is blind,
Therefore cannot impartial be;
The ey's the window of the mind:
And who can p [...]ize right if not see?
Since then love's partial, and admits
No solid censure in the theme;
Lovers (like Apes) must shape their wits
To turn the blewest milk to cream.
Nor must they want those noble skills
Of Sophistry, whereby to winde
Their waxen words to match the wills,
Not of their own, but Ladies mind.
[...] ne're so fond thy mistress be,
[...]ill be thou sure t' administer:
[...]hough she is pleas'd with foolery,
[...]y thou it's wisdom, and assist her.
[...] she is proud, then praise her beauty,
[...]nd say thou fanciest her attire;
[...]onfess a world of needless duty;
[...]he laws of Love support a lyar.
[...]et all the thundring Eccho's slip
Though she [...]s the off-spring of disgrace)
[...]hrough th' easie crannies of thy lip,
[...]er [...]eign'd sormosity to blaze.
[...]f she is wealthy, then adore
[...] Her now and then with gifts of cost;
[...]or if she finds thy present poor,
[...]he'l sl [...]ght thee, and thy labour's lost:
And who so foolish to deny
[...]o set such costly baits as may
[...]ake fishes, whose validity
Will o're and o're his cost repay?
Great Jove must not presume to see
[...]Dana [...]'s beauty, nor unfold
Her lap, till in her bosom he
Hurls down a shower of gold.
If she be fair, then use to kiss
Her lips (those gates of Paradise;)
Embrace her oft, remembring this,
Venus delights in veneries.
When e're she's pleas'd to smile, although
Its at conceit, yet represent her;
And when she talks, do thou talk too:
Be thou to her as th' shade to th' center.
Of stubbornness thou must be clear▪
That thou mayst flee at her request:
Stand not at tearms, although it were
T'atchieve some plot thou dost detest.
Only resist her still in this,
When she perswades thee not to love;
And look thou do it with a kiss,
Affirming thou wilt never move,
Think nothing scorn that she desires;
For Hercules (have you not heard
The tale?) so glow'd in Cupids fires,
That for his Dear he'd spin and card.
If then the God of vigor (who
Dislimb'd the Arcadian Boar,
And slew the Snakes of Juno too
That were design'd his sides to goar;)
[...]oopt so submissively, and bent
[...]imself so vile a slave to be:
[...]oop thou also, and be content;
[...]or if thou lov'st it suits w [...]th thee.
[...]st as the Steel doth turn unto
[...]he face of the magnetick power;
[...]ven in your actions so must you
[...]cline unto your Paramour.
[...] rhyming fancies rule her brains,
[...]ccustom thou thy self to sing
[...]asonian and soft Phrygian strains,
Well mounted on the Cyprian wing.
Make this thy labour, and aspire
[...]or stuff that may augment the flame;
And soon you'l set that breast on fire
Whereto your love-sick arrows aime.
[...]he foes of Love are stubborn words,
[...]ad lowring eyes, and lips that pout:
These cut more sharp then sharpest swords,
And put your Ladies unto rout.

28. Taylors.

TAylors and Wood-cocks both agree,
(But not in point of skills)
For both of them (we plainly see)
Do live by their long bills.
The Taylors scrub, the Wood cocks fly;
So both be quick and nimble:
The Wood cock trusts unto his eye;
The Taylor to his thimble.

29. Wisdom.

THou matchless darling of the heavenly race,
Minerva decked and adorn'd with grace
And sacred beauty: thou that wilt not be
Devirginated by the proudest he
That e're assay'd with vigor or with tears:
I have consum'd the morning of my years
In wooing thee, yet am as far to win
Thy sacred love, as when I did begin.
I cleav'd the waters like a true Meander;
I sought thee here, and did pursue thee yonder;
Like poor Alphaeus I have followed thee,
But Arethusa thou hast prov'd to me.
I cannot gain thee, neither can I rest
[Page 45] [...]ll thou residest in my longing breast.
[...]ow shall I win thee? how shall I obtain thee?
[...]hou glorious prize, what shall I do to gain thee?
[...]hou happy object, thou wilt not be sold
[...]or sums of silver, or for heaps of gold.
[...]he Indian Gems, or Neptunes Corals be
[...]f no esteem, of no validity
[...]o win this Paragon. 'Tis only Jove
[...]hat keeps her seated in his tower above,
[...]hat can procure her me; therefore I'le pray
[...]ato the King of Heaven, that I may
[...]e wise: Thou mover of Celestial motion,
Attend to my petition and devotion:
Thee I appeal to, under whose protection
Remains the Mistress of my best affection.
[...] am in love, the object is thy daughter:
[...]ong have I woo'd, and longer have I sought her;
[...]ong have I wisht, and labour'd to obtain her;
But my ignoble person cannot gain her.
Do thou therefore be pleased to infuse
My breast with her; do thou assist my Muse
With heavenly wisedom; for she'l never be
Attain'd for me, if not infus'd by thee.

30. The Mind.

WHose mind shall I decipher? whose intent
Shall I now shadow out, or represent?
My own I cannot▪ And I think 'tis vain
[Page 46] To tell another's in a Dorick strain
Of my invention. Minds are so unstable,
That we may title them incomparable.
No art can shape them, they're so temporary,
That e're a thought can reach them they will va [...]
Strange things they be; and who so e're intends
To tell a mind, what e're it comprehends
Must also treat of. And this theme's too ample
To be expounded, or admit example:
Both Earth and Heaven, Hell, Faith, Hope, and [...]
Yea, ev'ry creature is contain'd therein.
Have you e'e noted a prodigious cloud
In apparition; like a man? endow'd
With manly members? and the same appear
In the next moment, like a shagged bear;
Then (mov'd by Aeol [...]) anon she shapes
Her sable vapor to some Jack an apes.
This shews the mind in part, but (pray observe)
This Cloud in Lands kips Zeuxes well might carv [...]
But the deformed Centaures that abide
Within the mind, cannot be typ [...]fi [...]d.
Suppose Ap [...]lles brings his Pensils out,
Prepares his sundry paints, and goes about
T' attempt the thing, he'l come as far behind,
As though he were to Manacle the wind.
Alas, Man knows it not: and who can paint
A shadow of the thing he's ignorant?
Surely these knowing times and you scarce find
A man that rightly knoweth his own mind.

31. The Interruption.

CAn I not wanton once a day
In her dark night-enlightning ray,
[...] the pale foes of Love must be
[...]par'd to bark and bite at me?
[...]n we not spend an hour or two
[...]hen we have nothing else to do)
[...] Am'rous actions, bobs, and chocks,
[...]nd twisting fingers in our locks,
[...]nerian glances, smiles and kisses,
[...]nd such true harmless mirth as this is:
[...]t on a sudden, there must be
[...]e clownish boars of enmity
[...]nt to di [...]termine and divide us,
[...]nd be as rough as though th' had spi'd us
[...]ike Zimri and his mate) compact,
[...]nd join'd in some uncivil act?
[...] these are clowns, and ru [...]tick fools,
[...]hat ne're were taught loves golden rules:
[...]nd like the Dog that will not eat,
[...]or let the Ox lick up the meat.
[...]hou God of Love, where e're thou art,
[...]rom these defend us with thy dart;
[...]nd thou thy bow, and use thy charms,
While I am rampant in her arms.

32. The Requital.

ANd why did Rose incur such trouble,
As to reciprocate (this bubble)
A ring to him, who only sent
To her the vulgar complement
That Lovers to their Ladies send,
Or that which friend may do to friend?
Nor did I lard it with such words
As wanton feigned love affords.
It was no god of steel, intomb'd
With golden phrases; nor persum'd
With powdred oaths: The Herald knows
'T was only thus, My love to Rose.
And now my Rose upon this score,
Returns a Ring; what need I more?
I but alas, I cannot flatter,
Her love I value more then th' matter
Expressing it; though she presented
Me with this Ring, I'm not contented
So much as though her lips should move
Thus, pray salute him with my Love.
I, here's a token, if bu [...] true,
What pleasure might from hence accrue?
This is a wealth would please me more
Then all the gold oth' Indian shore:
I weigh not gold, when I remember
That glowing spark, that secret ember,
That true Idalea [...] coal that burns
[Page 49] Rose's breast, and freely turns
[...] me (its Magnet;) this is joy,
[...]e sum of my felicity.
[...]herefore sweet Herald, use to bring
[...]ve Letters rather then a Ring;
[...]ough love by tokens is exprest,
[...]et of all tokens love's the best.

33. The Dream.

LAst night my senses being lockt,
Food Briz [...] came and boldly knock [...]
Against my fancy gate:
[...]nd in her wanton arms she brought
As with a strong desire I thought)
The Empress of my fate.
[...]ho blu [...]hing stood before my face
[...] As t [...]were expecting my embrace)
Her bosom being nak't:
[...]hen Panick fear, and pleasant hope
At once into my spirits crope,
And mov'd me till I quak't▪
[...] mov'd this query in my breast;
[...] Rose in earnest or in jest?
The Jury prov'd it she.
[...]hen I with furious faith begun
[Page 50] Towards this glorious prize to run;
But reason bridled me.
Stay, stay, (she said) there is no reason
Thou shouldst fall on, for it is treason;
Therefore bold youth return:
But love, which reason doth exceed,
Nay stronger then my self indeed,
So furiously did burn
Within the chimney of my breast,
That I was quite bereft of rest,
Till in my arms I felt her;
Then with a vigorous haste I rushe
Upon the girl (who wept and blusht)
Thinking t' have purchast shelter.
But when I came into the station
(With equity pray poize my passion)
Where she appear'd to me,
I found a stock which neither mov'd
Its bulk, nor breath'd; alas it prov'd
Her shape, it was not she,

34. The Change.

I Once thought solace had been bound to serve
My will for ever, 'cause she us'd to carve
Such mellow morcels to my sense, when I
[Page 51] [...]t at the table of mine infancy.
[...]hen first I entred on this mortal stage,
[...] [...]halleng'd peace and pleasure as my page;
[...] heart swom light, cleaving the glorious seas
[...] consolation, bliss, content and ease,
[...]ith such fair gales, that I thought common pleasure
[...]as mine successively, my fathers treasure
[...]hich he transferr'd to me▪ but now I find
[...]is as apt to vary as the wind.
[...]hen I was lull'd in the indulgent arms
[...]f my dear nurse, and tickled by her charms,
[...]new no doubt, nor did I fear the danger
[...]f future chance; bad fortune was a stranger
[...]nto my sense; I little thought to see
[...]he dismal furies now tormenting me.
[...]te promis'd fairly, when she us'd to bring
[...]ach hour a mess to me well rellishing.
[...]ut now her bounty is so poor and slender,
[...]hat I can guess her but a meer pretender.
[...]ut let her do her worst. now I assure ye,
[...]weet Sack hath set me up above her fury.

35. The Mistake.

[...]TVVas long of Midas who inspir'd
Me with partiality, and injur'd
My clearer judgement, else I had
[...]ot made loves Archery so bad;
[Page 52] Again to me my darts did glide▪
Too too sublimely, and too wide.
I levell'd with mine eye-sight aim
Toward the center of a Dame,
Whom fortune had with dowries blest,
And sanctity it self exprest;
Whom natures seal had signed pretty,
And noble practise prov'd her witty.
All these I aim'd at, and I thought
To have ensnar'd them, and have caught
Them for my prey; but she deni'd,
And when I shot she slipt aside;
When I said I, she answered no,
And would not bend unto my bow:
When ere I urg'd her to explain
Her mind, she pinch't me with disdain.
No smiles, but frownings waited on
Her sharp responses, whereupon
I did commence to ruminate,
If these were not the signs of hate.
And in my search I proved these
To be the true Antipodes
To my intent: then did I pause
Upon this hate-producing cause
In this fair object. But the quest
Of reason sitting in my breast,
Did soon convince my faith of this,
That my love-darts were shot amiss.
Herein (said they) your folly lies:
You aim'd at her, and she was wise;
[Page 53] Therefore in vain your darts incline,
[...]rudence with folly will not join.

36. The Encomium.

MY mind has mov'd me oft to praise
Rosella's beauty, but her rayes
Recall'd my Muses, and enjoyn'd
My well and ill prepared mind
[...]o curb these praises, ere they sprung
[...]rom my soft quill, or softer tongue.
for reason (not the prop alone,
But Basis wisedom stands upon)
Hath re-inform'd me that she lack't
No verbal or external act
[...]o patch her cheeks with, or repair
The tresses of her golden hair.
Where all the fuel is on fire,
There needs no breath to raise it higher.
A stomach fill'd with dainty meats
Disgests not what it after eats.
Then pardon (Rose) my silent quill,
Which fancies not to superfill
Your theme with praises, which you neither
Desire, wi [...]h, want or fancy either.
[...]le not describe thy crimson blush;
Joves purest Nectar needs no bush:
But I will praise the courser sort
That need it, and will thank me for't.

37. Three Friends.

THeer certain friends (whom fortune did exp [...]
To many harms and dangers,
And circumvented with a world of foes;
Some neighbours, others strangers,)
VVell blest with vigour, and prepar'd with arms,
And sted fastly conjoin'd
VVith resolution to oppose all harms,
VVith one entire mind.
(Their minds thus melted into one) they went
VVith fury, to resist
Each stop that stood their projects to prevent,
And each Antagonist.
Nor did success prove poorer unto these,
Then't was fore-doom'd to do:
For many a one they shackled by degrees,
And many a one they slew.
Nor did their thirsty swords forbear to spill
The vitals of their foes;
Nor sheath their bloody jaws in scabbards, till
There was no more t' oppose.
Now all is won, and every prize their own,
[Page 55] The trine is sweetly blest
All the extinsick trouble being gone)
VVith native peace and rest▪
[...]ut pride (the darling of good fortune) sprung
(Arm'd with desire of strife)
[...]hese glorious Champions, and these friends among;
And spoil'd their friendly life.
Nor would it vanish, till it had untwisted
The knots once love had ti'd;
And now each friend his bosom-friend resisted,
till they were all destroy'd.

The Moral.

THese trusty friends three Nations were, well known
To be subordinate to a single Crown;
And while they lov'd, the world could not out-vie them;
But their intestin hate did soon destroy them.
Intrinsick strife, and home bred contradiction,
Are the next road to ruine and affliction.

38 The Apology.

DOst thou admire to see my rhimes,
Accost thine eyes so oftentimes?
Pray tell me, can the tender lambs
[Page 56] Forget to bleat unto their dams?
Or can the babe refrain its tongue
To wag to her from whence it sprung?
Can it withhold its childish strife
From her that did indow't with life?
No, no, it cannot; neither will
My muse be silent, nor my quill
Refrain its chattering unto you,
From whom my Muses breath accrew.
Had your refulgent rayes ne're shone
(With instigative power) upon
My dull Vrania, she had been
Unknown, unskilful, and unseen.
Oft your own lustre did inspire
Me with an active power, and then
(Like souls) shall I not turn agen
To my Creator? mark the flame,
Ascends not it from whence it came?
No wonder then if you behold
My Muses oft to be so bold
To buz beneath your eye-beams, seeing
You are the author of their being.

39. The Encouragement.

WHat power affronts our zeal, or who shal [...] stand
As a sad Gnomon 'twixt thy self & me?
Art thou not mine? and dost thou not command
[Page 57] [...]e at thy pleasure by authority?
Since then our hearts are link't, who shall pre­vent
Or break the tenets of our true intent?
[...]e thou but loyal, and it is no matter
[...]hough I be carbonado'd for thy sake;
[...]hough our beleaguerers many a time shall b [...]tter
[...]hat Chrystal Tower of thine, yet they shall take
No inward prize, nor 'twixt us interpose;
Be but our hearts true, and we'l fear no foes.
[...]e not too much dejected, though th' art forc't
To wait and linger for loves full repast.
The more our stomachs long, the more they fast,
The dearer will our dainties be at last.
The longer a hot fever in thee burns,
The sweeter is thy health when it returns.
Then banish doubtings of division, from
The promontories of thy silver breast,
(Those fair Belconies of Elysium,
Where Heaven's Nectar and Ambrosia rest)
Each crabbed Guerdion, by his purest arts,
Shall but divide our bodies, not our hearts.

40. The request to walk.

SOl has prepared every grove,
Fit mansions for retired love.
[Page 58] Come let us walk therein, and see
VVhich shine the brightest, they or thee.
Come, come, there is no secret spy,
No bastard of Antipathy
To Cupids Cordials, that may leere
Among the whistling trees, to hear
Our soft discourses, and there is
None to upbraid us when we kiss.
The feather'd train will gladly sing,
And in their order they will bring
Fresh warbling Sonnets, and advance
Their mellow Musick, while we dance
To their serene and sprightly charms,
VVith hand in hand, and arms in arms.
Speak then, where shall we dance a round?
On Sylvan's floor, or Ceres ground?
Or with Priapus shall we play?
Speak now, and chuse the best you may.

The Answer.

THe thorny back't and rough Sylvanus
Shall not refresh nor entertain us:
Nor withered Ceres, 'cause the plow
Has made long furrows on her brow:
But 'tis Priapus I desire;
There we will play until we tire.

41. The self-che [...]k.

MY chaster Muses freely are inclin'd,
To wish thee to be wary:
Lest by temptation, thou shouldst be enjoyn'd
(Like Cloris) to miscarry.
But pardon me, I doubt not in the least.
Because you would not fall at my request.

42. The Advise.

I Am big-belli'd with desire
To court thine ears with admonition,
Left thou art melted by the fire
Of such as unto thee petition
To crop thy Virgin blooms, and then
Will leave the branches bare and base:
Of such licentious greedy men
As leave poor Ladies in disgrace;
Who (Jason-like) will never spare
To spoil the cask, so they can get
What Jewels it includeth rare;
Ev'n for the Gem spoil th' Cabinet.
Attend not to Mercurian lips,
[Page 60] Gay raiment, or Atalanta's balls,
If once thy foot in publick slip,
Thousands will lurk to give thee falls.
And this sage counsel I bequeath
You for your good, because I see,
By the inticement of a breath,
Yon fell so gently down for me.

43 The Blush.

WEll may she sigh and blush to see
My love-dri'd cheeks how pale they be.
For her light love, and lean reward
Of my affection, leans so hard
Upon my vitals, that it strains
The crimson tincture from my veins,
And leaves my cheeks to be the right
Type of the Lady of the night.
But stay fond Muses, sure you err,
She wrongs not you, but you wrong her.
For if the slender Love that freez'd
In torid Zone of her, had squeez'd
The tincture from my cheeks, sure then
She would have gilded those agen,
By the continual blush and blaze
That darts (like Paean) from her rayes.
Her tongue's the mintage, I the coin;
And as she speaks, this heart of mine
[Page 61] [...] formed, as the signets be
To wax, so are thy words to me:
[...]f then her words can wrest my nature,
Her blush may burnish my dull feature.
[...], but the weakness of her love
Doth still perswade her to remove,
And vail her cheeks: so that the cause
Which from my face the tincture draws,
Doth also hinder and debar
My pined visage from repair.
Why then suppose thy self a fly,
So mayst thou buz beneath her eye;
Then her hot eyes or fragrant breath
May scortch or stifle me to death.
Oh that were best of all! 'tis better fate
To die Loves Martyr, then to live in hate.

44. The Protest.

LAdy, let not a tear trickle down or appear
In your eye,
To conceive I should leave
My affecting of you till I die.
May the Bell never toll as a foy to my soul
When it flies
From its urn, to return
To the place whence it came, o're the skies.
May the Sun never shine on this forehead of mine
VVhile I breath,
If that I e're deny
To adore and to love thee till death.
May the horrible itch, or the ghost of a witch Torture me
If I prove to remove
My engagements (fair Lady) from thee.
But why should I speak, that have no force to bre [...] My design?
For as well may I sell
My own life, as forbear to be thine.
Can the water remove from beneath to above VVithout art?
No, you know it cannot so.
No more can I alter my heart.
Can the day light go out, while the Sun goes abou [...]
In the Sphear?
No, you know 't cannot so:
No more can my zeal to my Dear.
Th' art Queen of my soul, and hast force to controu [...] Each decree:
For alas! even as
Steel to the Loadstone, so I am to thee.
[...]nce then there's no force can divide or divorce
Us in twain,
[...]hrow aside peevish pride,
[...]hile I kiss thee again and again.
[...]t us wantonly play, kiss and clip while we may,
Without scorn;
[...]r if we merry be
[...]ver night, I'le not leave thee i'th' morn.

45. The Item.

WHat I always grumbling, always whining?
Still suming, raving, and repining?
[...]hat ails my brat to be so pettish,
[...]o cross, so peevish, and so frettish?
[...]urst Cur, what makes thee thus? I say,
[...]hy wearest thou thy self away
[...]n macerating envies wheel?
[...]hat inward mover dost thou feel?
[...]r is it ought that dwells in me
[...]hat does extort thy voice and thee?
[...]ure then I'le say, and yet I will not flout thee,
[...]he Devil's in thee, or thy wit's without thee.

46. The Maids Soliloquie.

YOu Virgins of the Queen of Lovers,
Come and consult with me a while;
Help me to chase this bird that hovers
About my breast, into exile.
Shew me a way
Whereby I may.
In stead of sighing, take delight to smile.
What though he's gone, in wrath departed?
Shall I for ever more lament?
No, I will not be so faint-hearted;
It shall not cause me to repent,
Though he has left
Me, and bereft
Me of his love, yet I have my content.
When in his arms I was confined,
A jealous frenzy vext my brain;
And I each moment was enjoined
To feel the sting of Cupids pain:
For then I thought I had been caught▪
But now my heart's become mine own again.
If it were needful I should marry;
I need not labour for a lad;
But I will rather chuse to tarry,
[Page 65] [...]est some should think that I were mad:
For when I wed,
My joyes are fled,
And all my good days will be turn'd to bad.
And since his absence greatly cases
Me of my sorrows and my care,
[...]ray let him wander where he pleases,
And not return till I despair:
The which shall be
When you shall see
Both Towns and Castles builded in the air.

47. The Dialogue.

Queſt. VVHat mean those golden locks
About Rosella's head?
Anſw. These shew in what bewitching stocks
Thy heart lies fettered.
Q Why is her lofty brow so fair,
(Like Eurus cheek) so red?
A'Tis her blush, and doth declare
Where modesty is bred.
Q What means that moisture that appears
In her bright eyes like Pearl?
A It signifies how Cyprian tears
Flew dayly from the girl.
Q Wherefore does she withdraw her eyes
When I accost her beams?
A Because her rayes should not annoy
Thy sight by their extreams.
Q And wherefore does her crimson hue
So often change and vary?
A O 'tis a Herald sent to you,
To wish you to be wary.
Q What ailes her lips more hard to be
Then Coral, or the Rubie?
A This shews the clownishness of thee,
For thou art but a boobie.
Q Pray tell me more apparently
Wherein the truth of this is?
A Because you do not mollifie
Them by your moistning kisses.
Q What mean those knots upon her breast,
And pray what is their duty?
[...] Why feeble art is here exprest
[...] wait on natures beauty.
[...] What mean her hands to look so white,
[...] though they were [...] snow?
[...] This shews that love it cold and light,
[...]hich in her heart doth grow.
[...]nd youth thou lyest, and 'tis but thy pretence,
[...]an refute thee by experience.

48. The Times.

MY heart, alas, is ever dying,
And yet is never dead.
[...]ke ful-lblown Dames I lie out-crying,
Yet am not brought to bed.
[...]alm, they say, succeeds a storm;
Alas, why I beleeve it:
[...]d good it also chac't by harm,
Which dayly lurks to grieve it:
[...] some unhappy news to day
Tranquillitie's exil'd:
[...]d all my joyes consume away;
[...]d thus I am beguil'd.
Perhaps anon this rigid act
Is by the court repeal'd:
And then I am with pleasures back't,
And all my wounds are [...]l'd.
But this is that which ne're endures
Above a day at most:
Some cruel jog doth lance my cures,
And all my joyes are lost.
To day here's murder, the [...] to morrow,
And scandal he comes after:
These are the grounds of wise mens sorrow,
Bat to the foolish, laughter.
Here's Tereus bedded with his sister
Ith' midst of all the throng;
And when he had defil'd and kist her,
He rob'd her of her tongue.
Here's Irus hang'd for stealing bread,
Though rob'd of his arrears:
And here is Croesus perjured,
Yet he can keep his ears.
Here is Lycaon fiercely slaying
His guests, and yet goes free:
And here are Saints in Temples praying,
And ill design'd as he.
[...]ere's Z [...]ilus railing at the times,
As though he did detest them:
[...]et notwithstanding Z [...]ilus rhimes,
He closely can digest them.
[...]or need he rail at them so much;
For they would never be
[...]o wicked, were it not for such
Unconstant fools as he.

49. Put the case,

IF Whores and Rogues were link't together,
'Twould be a brave conjunction;
And oyled with the oyl of leather,
'Twould be a curious unction.
[...]f Mars shall move in Venus sphear,
What alteration might we fear?
[...]f I should love and be neglected,
What would become of me?
[...]f the French Pox had thee infected,
What would become of thee?
[...]f Cupid cuts Alceste's Corns,
May not Admetus fear the Horns?
[...]f Time with his long sithe should mow
Death down, and make him die:
[Page 70] Then Reader but imagine, oh
What blades were thee and I?
If this were so, in stead of peace,
Both men and malice would encrease,
If the first mover of the Orbs
Should chance to fall asleep,
The Scottish Knight, Sir Arthur Forbs,
Could hardly shear his Sheep.
Or if Apollo close his eye,
What light would you see Planets by?
If thou and I were both as one,
Endow'd with worldly riches,
If thou keep Whores, and I keep none,
Who first might pawn his breechts?
If Nimrod steals Diana's Deer,
Has not Apollo cause to fear?

50. The Ramble.

GO home loose thoughts, y' have seen enough▪
Your pleasure's burnt unto a snuff:
What you conceiv'd your lasting prize,
Now proves a vapor in disguize.
Now you have rambled out your swing,
You find the world is no such thing
As you suppos'd, when you were wont
Only to stand and gaze upon't.
[Page 71] [...]ow many friendships were profest?
[...]ow many fawners did contest
[...]o wait on me, while I was stay'd,
[...]nd kept me close unto my trade?
[...]h what pretences, what a brood
[...]f promises to do me good!
[...]hese puft me up, and did invite
[...]y fancy to some fresh delight;
[...]hought I, I'le try the world, and see
[...] starting out will better me;
[...]e change the course of my estate,
And fall upon some newer fate.
Oh foolish brain! though some indeed
[...]eek out new fortunes, 'tis for need;
When th' old's so poor 'twill not maintain them,
[...]hen to seek out it doth constrain them.
[...]ut he that's fixt well, he is worse
[...]hen mad, in altering of his course;
[...]he follie's mine. Abroad I went,
And many a silver spill I spent,
And I was welcome while it lasted;
But being gone my pleasure blasted:
And they that courted me before
[...]nto their favours, now give o're,
And have so moulded their condition,
That they regard not my petition:
While I had silver, there would be
No want of good societie,
Such pleasant words did me assail
As use to court men iuto Jail▪
[Page 72] I was a sweet young man, they said,
And did deserve as sweet a maid.
Bless him and's fortunes, prudent youth▪
And I must be a Saint forsooth.
Pox take their Worships, but no matter,
This Ramble makes my knowledge fatter.
I find all pleasures are but vain;
Therefore I will go home again.

51. The Desertion.

WAs I bewitch't or drunk when I essay'd
To change my function, & forsake the tr [...]
The sacred trade of Nectar, which maintains
Our consolation, and supplies our brains
With springs of Wit; and fall into the sphere
Of sollen Ale, and sense-afflicting Beer?
Was e're such folly acted in our school?
Could e're good fellowship breed such a fool?
But stay a little, let me plead excuse,
Else I am lavish in my own abuse:
'Twas not the Beer alone invok'd me hither;
But 'twas the Widdow and the Beer together.
The Wine inflam'd my spirits, and 'tis common
When Nectar's regent, to accost a woman.
But soon the woman did my fancy tire,
And then again for Wine was my desire.
Hence we may note that women, in the taste,
Suffice our will, such pleasures will not last
[Page 73] [...]ove a night or two; but he that uses
[...]streams of Wine to mollifie his Muses,
[...]never cloy'd (his solace knows no sorrow)
[...]r he that's drunk to day loves VVine to morrow.

52. Adonibezeck,

GOod deeds deserve requitals, and the men
That strike unjustly, must be struck agen
With their own weapons; & from hence it comes▪
[...]hat proud Adonibezeck lost his Thumbs.

53. Donec eris foelix.

WHat peevish planet did the heavens sway
When I was born? what star did rule the day
Of my untimely birth? it neither lends
Me wealth nor friends.
Why was I born? wherefore did not my mother
Comply with death? death, why didst thou not smo­ther
Me in that womb? then had my body been
At rest unseen.
Unnatural father, why didst thou deny
To leave me maintainance? couldst thou not buy
Some grand fee-simple? hadst thou but done so,
I'de known no foe.
Had this been done, no question but thy son
(Whose state proud Fortune now derides) had w [...]
The day of triumph, and advanc't his same,
And fathers name.
Why didst thou give me learning? why didst thou
Not bring me up to labour at the plow?
This is the road to riches, t' other brings
Contrary things.
Carnal discretion tells me, had I bent
My youth to purvey for emolument,
I had been happy in the thing which sends
Both same and friends.
But now (poor abject) I must needs incline
To friends: O Croesus, if I were but thine,
'Twere great encouragement; Oh let me be
Partner with thee.
But stay a little, I must not intrude
Into his secret Counsels, he'l exclude
My sense from thence, and charge me to be gone
To H [...]licon▪
I want an equal portion to compare
With his vast treasure, he will never care
To entertain me, if I cannot swim
In wealth with him.
[...] must forsake his dainties, and go feed
[...]y fond desires on the barren weed
[...]at's on Parnassus; there's my pleasure, there
Lies all my cheer.
[...] hold my Muse. I'le lock thee in my trunk,
[...]st they that see thee say my Muse is drunk:
[...]rown not thy self with madness, thou canst rise
Above the skies.
[...]ck is thy sustenance, didst ever know
Bacchanalian vapor sink so low
[...]s sorrow dwells? no misery can be
Known unto thee.
[...]et must I pity those unhappy boyes
That juggle with Maecenas for the bayes
[...]f vain applause; whose lottery is to lie
In misery.
[...]it they have plenty, but we seldom know
VVhen wit and riches both together flow
[...]n the same font; Fate (mortals ticklish guide)
Doth them divide.
Your waxen-winged verses will dissolve
[...]n time of want; then censure will revolve
Your fame i'th' bowels of contempt, and drown'd
You, once renown'd.
Are you in prison? tell me can you pierce
The gates and wickets by a measur'd verse?
Can your own fancy bail you, can you be
For crimes set free?
Where's all your friends? perhaps one sayes I kno [...] hi [...]
I've seen his person, I have read his Poem.
All wish him well, but which man goes about
To help him out?
But now you Poets, if you would have friends,
First learn ye to be happy, else your ends
Are all in vain; and when you happy be,
Remember me.

54. The Souldier and his Mistress.

So. HArk, hark (my Paragon) the trumpet sound [...]
The foaming horse come pra [...] o're th [...] ground
The noise of battel in my ear rebounds.
Arm, arm, brave Hectors, the Centurions cry,
Advance, advance your weapons or you die;
Which horrid noise will break our Sympathy.
Mist. No, no, it needs not, shall the horrid swarm [...]
Of men and horse allure thee by their charms,
To leave my fleshly for thy martial arms?
[...]ing closer then, for thou shalt not depart
[...]rom me this night in person, or in heart;
[...]rm not, for thou in arms already art:
And th' art engage'd unto the harmless fight
[...]f wanton Cupid, where (this following night)
[...]e'l both be conquer'd, conquer'd with delight.
Our smiles shall be our arrows, and our eyes
Are Stratagems, sufficient to surprize
Thoughts of dissention and Antipathies.
Each blow will beg another, and 't will ease us;
[...]uch contestations cannot chuse but please us:
And such a quarrel greatly will appease us.
Brave war and harmless! oh who would deny
To be a souldier in't? who would not die
In such a battel, such artillery?
Sold. I, but I dare not; if my Captain find
Me in your quarters, no excuse will blind
His rigid sentence, and his furious mind.
Mist. There's none shall find thee, for I'le vail thy face
And body too, with the embroidered case
Of my rich blanket, where we will embrace.
My smock shall shroud thee, & my hand shall guide thee
[Page 78] From whatso [...]'re disa [...]ter shall betide thee,
Ith' bus [...] on my bel [...]y I will hide thee.
Or if he find thee, I will [...] than,
That he is arm'd (let him say what he can)
To ruine mortals, thou to make a man.

55. The Exclamation.

SInce 't was thy beauty that begun
This servent [...]rdor in my breast,
Make it, my grief-expelling sun,
That wretched I may take some rest.
I burn, I burn 'twixt the extreams
Of fear and hope, and thy bright beam [...].
One heat another may unthrone;
Then wonder not if I desire
(Who scorching lies ith' torrid Zone)
Your forehead to expel my fire.
Oh smile, and let my heart not lie
Broyl'd on the grid irons of thine eye.
Ice (fires foe) laid to the skin
That's burnt, will c [...]use the [...]lesh to turn
Into a bl [...]ste [...], and within
With greater [...] to burn:
O Iey heart, then be not so,
I would bring additions [...]o my wo [...]
[...]ange kind of creature, whose clear eye
[...] scorch and burn like Luna's brother;
[...]d yet her heart in Ice doth lie,
[...]r self doth freeze, yet burns another▪
[...]e torrid and the frigid Zone
[...]ite their temper [...] both in one.
[...]en let thine eye thy heart reflect
[...]on, and soon the Ice will perish;
[...]d then thy heart will me affect,
[...]d with enlivening flames me cherish!
[...]ow I lie gasping, and I saint
[...]r want of thee, my lovely Sain [...].
[...]ou art that tree whereon is found
[...] [...]trange and double-natur'd power;
[...]e one is bitterly to wound,
[...]e other sweetly is to cure.
[...]d since the first on me ha'st pa [...],
[...]me now and cure me with the last,
[...] furious flame! alas I fry,
[...]d cannot damp the heat with water;
[...] [...]srcture reels, and I must die,
[...] beauty brings me not her daughter.
[...]oss and turn, and cannot rest:
[...]is Juniper flames within my breast.
[...]ome lively, soul, let's symphathize
[Page 80] In love and arms, and be not loth;
Let me behold in thy bright eyes
Nareissus and Adouis both.
Were but thy heart as hot as mine.
I should find pleasure to calcine.
Poor beauty-strucken soul, I have
No consolation in the world,
Unless thy bounty dain to save
Me from those plagues upon me hurl'd:
Thou art that spell, and only thee
That charmest all my misery.
Come sacred Doctress then, and act
Thy energy and power on me:
A word of thine (with Cupid back't)
Is medicine enough to be
Deaths Antidote, and to controul
The extasie wherein I roul.

56. The Invitation to Marry.

PUt on (Rosella) ride not with delay,
'Tis full of danger; all-devouring time
Brings things (in time) to ruine and decay.
Enjoy thy pleasure now it is thy prime;
All things unused quickly are decay'd,
And for the lack of use are useless made.
[...]bserve an house that's not inhabited,
[...]ow soon swift time makes pock-holes in the walls:
[...]bserve a cage, from whence the bird is fled,
[...]ow soon it's cobweb'd, and to ruine falls.
[...]h let not (Rose) thy wanton white and red,
[...]or want of wanton use be withered.
Thou art the (Rose the Queen of every flower)
And if in time thou art not choicely taken,
Thou wilt decline, and lose thy fragrant power;
And thy fresh cheeks of beauty be forsaken:
Then take this counsel, let it not be known
[...]o rare a Rose should languish all alone.
Make me thy Tenant, and let me inherit
This curious Joynter: let thy youthful age
[...]e kept for me, to me do you transfer it.
[...]le be the Bird too if you'l be the Cage,
[...]le keep the house, as 'tis, and you shall see
No alteration in the Cage shall be.
The Rose is even ripe, and fit to gather;
Here is a hand shall pluck it if you please:
Let it not stand, left time and stormy weather
Shall blanch its vertue, and make beauty cease;
Resign it now, reserve it not until
'Tis neither fit for scent, nor to distil.
Let's love no longer single, but enjoy
[Page 86] The true Elysiun [...] which our Wedlock brings,
And let us feed on that fel [...]city
Where of the silly Dove of Venus sings;
Die not a Virgin, lest survivers tell.
Rose is departed to loud Apes in hell.

57. The [...]reeminence.

ALas what's Phoebus? I did ne're
Stand trembling to behold his light,
As I have often done to her;
He shines i'th day, she day and night:
His glory can but dull mine eyes,
But in her lustre my heart fries;
Then tell me where most power lies?
Pale-fac'd Diana can but shew
A crazy countenance, but my Rose
Has full-grown beauty, clear and true:
Her heavenly brow no blemish knows;
Yet in Lucina you may see
Apparent spots, pray then tell me
Which is most bright, the Moon or she.
Though Aetna's mountain fiercely fries
With burning Sulphur, yet alas,
Rosella with her piercing eyes,
Its Calenture doth far [...]rpass;
[Page 87] The flames that issue from that urn,
[...]hings at a distance will not burn;
A man may see' [...] and safe return.
But whosoe're on Rose shall cast
A fixed eye, he's burned by her.
And he that shall her beauty taste,
Must needs be hurl'd into loves fire;
His breast is strucken by a glance,
Her fatal look's a sad mischance,
And leaves the viewer in a trance.
The vertuous Loadstone, though it is
The Map [...]of wonders, ye [...] I say
[...]he can effect as great as his,
By her sweet reason [...] quelling ray:
This draws my knife too't, that my heart
Let reason then to me impart,
[...]n which of these lies greatest art?
The stone which the Philosopher
Approves for vertue. comes behind
The stronger force that dwells in her
(As by experience I can find;)
With this his stone (poor mortal) he
Can but turn things to gold, but she
Makes mirth of sowrest misery.
Then what is Phoebus? may not be
Confess his weakness to his shame?
[Page 84] And what is Luna? may not she
Withdraw her face, and do the same?
The Load stone and Philosopher,
And Aetna, all must know they erre,
And all pay tribute unto her.

50. The Drollery.

LIke the rich jewels of a jeaks,
Or like a Mill-stone fri'd in steaks,
Or like the Elbow of a Bat,
Or like a Presbyterian Rat:
Just such is he that call'd my Mistress Madam,
Ten thousand years before the dayes of Adam.
Like a red herring drest in coats,
Or like a flea that feeds on oats,
Or like a louse that can speak French,
Or like a whorish honest wench:
Such is that mortal whose discretion can
Both rob and cheat, yet be an honest man.
Like Tadpoles that must ride in Coaches,
Or like the leaden wings of Loaches,
Or Humble-Bees in leathern jackets,
Or true mens hands in Harlots plackckets:
Such is that goodly Squire, whose intent
Is to build Churches when his money's spent.
Just like a Beard that's lin'd with plush,
Or like a three-leg'd Holly-bush,
Or like the Vine that beareth Cider,
Or like the Cloak-bag of a Spider:
Just such is he that took a Gun, and shot
Quite through the shoulder of his Chamber-pot.
Like a Sirreverence lapt in Lawn,
Or like a sword that ne're was drawn,
Or furious Whiskin burnt to coals,
Or men that live without their souls:
Such Croesus is, that would no: line his breeches.
Nor get his wife with child, for fear on's riches.
Like one that sees though he be blind,
Or the fore-horse that comes behind,
Or like a free-born Bastard brat,
Or like I know not who nor what:
Just such is he that falling sick of sorrow,
Was buried yesterday, and di'd tomorrow.

59. Love beyond Reason.

I Love to sport above her eye,
I love her well, but know not why.
I love her smell, I love her taste,
I love to twist about her waste:
I love her sound, I love her touch;
[Page 82] The active power of love is such
That for my Mistress I could die,
Aud yet in troth I know not why:
I search't her soul to see what merit
Was there, and found none did inherit
To reason for a rudiment,
Upon this scrutiny I went,
Where th' cause of love I did detect,
Not her desert, but my defect:
Or thus more plainly runs the rule;
I lov'd her cause I was a fool.

60. In the Garden.

Rosella did but look
Upon the Milk-white Rosie bushes,
And presently each Rose forsook
Their white, and Vapor'd in Rosella's blushes.
She did but cast her eye
Upon the blew-lipt Lavanders,
And presently they did defie
Their own complexion, and did boast of hers.
The virid Marjoram
Her sparkling beauty did but see,
And presently their green became
All di'd wich Sc [...]ries, blushing, red as she.
And when 'tis my delight
My perisht beauty to renew,
Then I accost her, whose first sight
Then turns my pale cheeks to a crimson hue.
Brave Artist, then I'le sue
Philosophers no more, to know
Their Elixar; it's all in you,
Prov'd by experience wheresoere you go.

61. A Kiss.

A Way false fear,
And come not here.
Cheer up brave thoughts, and grow
In strength, fall not below
Your quality; alas, th' assumption
Of one poor kiss was no presumption;
No, none at all, sweet-lips you did not erre,
There was no treason in saluting her,
Where you before
Had thousands more
Without repulse or frown.
No, (wanton girl) 'tis known
Thou ha'st not only lov'd the sport,
But waited and endeavour'd for't.
[Page 88] I've seen thee active to inflame the blisses
That are ingender'd by the game of kisses.
Wherefore I'le draw
From Cupids Law,
That Custom might have claim'd
Its right, and never fram'd
The least Apology; nor stood
Poring upon th' Optative mood.
Yet she, forsooth, not only stai'd the use,
But tells me the attempt is an abuse.
But sinner, sure
Thou needst not wooe her
To pass such errors by
With an indulgent eye:
Thou needst not blush where there's no fault,
He needs no crutch that ne're did hault.
Cast off thy care, set sorrows on the score,
Since she repulst thee once, ne're kiss her more.

62. Hero.

VVOe is me that fall!
Woe is me that perish!
Genius tell me, whither shall
I repair for one to cherish
My declining soul, and condole
My distress? Oh pity! yonder
[Page 89] Swims the Skeleton of Leander:
[...]d then she sigh'd, and then she wept,
[...]d in a passion then she stept
the remorseless waves, and then she died.

63. The Ruine.

Wish that I had never known thee;
Oh that I could not dote upon thee,
Nor adore
[...]y alluring lips and eyes
To which my wanton fancy flies)
Any more!
[...]y inchanting grace and beauty
To which Adonis ows a duty)
Have inshrin'd
[...]eep within that fatal chest
[...]f thy yet unrelenting brest
All my mind.
[...]t is reason thou shouldst carry
The Penal burthen which burglary
Doth require;
[...]or thy penetrating ray
Has broke my house, and stol'n away
My desire.
Gentle thief thou ha [...]t undone me,
If thou wile not reflect upon me,
I must go
Unto the dead, then for my sake
Restore my heart again, or take
Me also.

65. Good Liquor.

LOve, envy, rage, and fury rest,
And secretly repose,
Like hood-wink [...] Falcons in my breast,
Untill the Ocean flowes:
For want of quaffing cups you die,
And are as ill prepar'd as I.
I'le feast you with my rhymes no more,
When once I cease to tipple;
When er'e you bar the Cellar dore,
My Muse becomes a cripple.
As Luna (void of Sol) may wink,
So Clio must for want of drink.
Nor is't your Al [...] and musty Beer
That procreates my phrases.
'Tis Wine that makes my Ela clear,
And worthy of your praises.
[Page 95] beasts (but Asses) love to chuse
[...] best of grass, and worst refuse.
[...] not your Wine that's mixt and blended
With this and that receit;
[...]t's first decayed, and then amended;
From such I must retreat.
Heavens Nectar I incline,
bright Apollo's rasie Wine.

66. The Air.

Weet sounds that issue from the Quire
Of wing'd Musicians, or the Thracian Lyre,
Be dumb, repose your Knells,
You warbling shrill-mouth'd Philomels.
Your tones extort my tears,
Your musick seems unto my ears,
[...] Vrsus to the eye appears.
[...]uses, whose charms are Musket-proof
[...] passive power, you may stand aloof;
Whose active charms can draw
Waters from mountains, and unthaw
A flinty breast, you be
Of no more value unto me
Then Butter flies to Broom-men be.
Sing to the woods, and silver'd brooks;
I neither like your Sonnets, nor your looks.
Court fools as may affect
Your dissonanting dialect:
My Lute's more clear and choice,
Wherein I only can rejoice:
It is Rosella's heavenly voice.

67. Time. The Interpreter.

WHat serious students with their busied b [...]
Could ne're unlock; what Philosophick p [...]
Tri'd, and fell short of: what strong art ne're [...]
What was a theme too hard for th' Alchymist:
What mighty Merlin in his operation,
Fore sight, Prediction, and prognostication,
Could not unroll, Time has now detected:
Yet still he is dispes'd, and dis-respected:
There's no man crowns him with a wreath of p [...]
Compos'd of Lawrel triumph, though his waies
Are rules of truth; while error boldly draws
Worlds of applause to her insatiate claws.
Infected Animals, how are ye blinded
With misty judgements? how intic't and winded
With strange belief? how nimble, and how pro [...]
To build on rottenness? Rely upon
Deluding Motives? making declination
From the firm Basis of true revelation.
[Page 93] [...]ge your opinions, you unbridled youths,
[...] time, not Artists will declare our truths.

68. Knowledge.

THrough the Meander of invented art
[...] I've deeply waded, and unthaw'd the Ice
[...] knotty contexts; as a [...]teely Dart,
[...]ere's through mysteries, dark, obscure and nice:
[...]r Cypria's function was made known to me,
[...]e with her daughters been too well acquainted;
[...]e known Romes stages and her gallantry:
[...] pastimes Paradise I have been planted.
[...] was my senses oyl'd with such content,
[...]t that displeasure also had its growth.
[...]now what 't was to laugh and to lament,
[...]pell'd the nature, and the use of both:
[...]pur'd my genius, on my Muse I put
[...] to the Labyrinth of as deep conclusion
[...] sense and reason knew. I hew'd and cut
[...]e doors of darkness down, and made intrusion.
[...] was acquainted with the starry realm
[...] others be, yet here my knowledge lack't,
[...] knew not him that sitteth at the helm,
[...] whose discretion all the Planets act.
[...]herefore thou root of nature, and of art,
[...] Since void of knowing thee makes knowledg void,)
[...]fuse no other Science in my heart,
[...]hen of my self and thee, my glorious guide.

69. The Vineyard.

ENter you that save with madness:
Enter you that sigh with sadness,
And receive the oyl of gladness
In the Vine.
Here's the mystery of the Muses;
Here's the Font Ma [...]as uses;
Here wit gains what ere it loses.
Noble Wine.
Here's the Laurel, here's the Bayes,
Here's the sum of Poets praise,
Heare's the crea [...] of Pa [...]s rayes,
Samous liquor:
Here's th' Arse [...] whence do spring
Presents worthy for a King.
Here my s [...]neies tender wing
Thriveth quicker.

70. The Quere.

SAy, shall I love, or shall I leave her?
Shall I leave or love for ever?
[Page 95] [...]ll I part with my profession,
[...] proceed in my progression?

Ecc [...]o.

[...] back, suspend thy love for ever;
[...]l home thy heart again and leave her:
[...]o much of one sort breeds lothing,
[...]kes the object fit for nothing;
[...]yls the fancy, spoils the sense,
[...]ns delight to penitence;
[...]cially in those that summon
[...]eir wits to attend a woman.
[...]en refuse, fall off, and leave her,
[...] thou lose thy bliss for ever.
[...]ing once engag'd thy credit,
[...]n may curse that ere you did it;
[...] if beauty moved thee,
[...] adventure that may flee;
[...]en that face which once was fire
[...]calcine, shall now expire
[...] Lamps of Zealots, and shall choke
[...]y own sense with thy own smoke:
[...]d you'l feel (in such a case)
[...]ch disease, or much disgrace:
[...]ou go your credits lost,
[...]ou stay you will be crost:
[...] how dismal is't, for he,
[...] whose love formalitie
[...]ps, or the affection, where
[...] wells not for love but fear!
[...]en return, return and leave her,
[Page 96] Lest thou art a fool for ever,
What avails thy wanton courting?
Kissing, clipping, hugging, sporting,
Smiling, beckning, musing, glancing,
Winding, tripping, footing, dancing,
Chopping, changing, mingling words,
All the joy that love affords:
What art thou for this the better?
Only thou art made a debtor
For't▪ Although thy Mistress swims
Over the glorious Cherubims
In thy fancy, she'l not scorn
To salute thee with a horn
For thy requital: Such there be;
Then love not such vanity.
O return, return and leave her,
Else I'le say th' art mad for ever.
He's a fool that loves to be
Vassal'd, when he may be free.

71. The life and death of Sarah.

SArah liv'd and Sarah lov'd,
Sarah thriv'd and Sarah mov'd.
Sarah sat and Sarah slept,
Sarah wak't and Sarah wept,
Sarah sob'd and Sarah smil'd,
Sarah was begot with child,
Sarah sigh't and Sarah song.
[Page 97] And Sarah could not hold her tongue.
Sarah pist and Sarah cri'd.
Sarah shit and so she di'd.

72. The Messenger.

LOve commands his servant out
To the woods, to range about
For a Mistress for his Master,
Cause he wanted such a plaister
As a Lady. Out he gots,
Through the woods, streams, verse and prose:
One he found, and then return'd
(To the man that sight and burn'd.)
Expectation did advance,
And hope had the predominance:
Love repli'd to th' Agent then,
Dost thou gladly turn agen?
Art thou fraited with my bl [...]ss?
Then he answers, Master yes.
But what hast thou prepar'd for me?
Is she coy, or is she free?
Is she tall, or is she low?
Is she slender? lean or no?
Is she square, or is she round?
Is she sick, or is she sound?
Do the Gods confess their duty
Is to worship such a beauty?
[Page 98] Is but Venus scarce her type?
Is she green, or too too ripe?
Is she foul, or is she fair?
Is she not at others are?
Is she white, or is she black?
Or what i'st that she doth lack?


I have prepar'd for thee enough.
She's coy enough, add free enough,
She's Low enough and tall enough,
She's big enough and small enough,
She's fat enough and lean enough,
She's rich enough and mean enough,
She's young enough and strong enough,
She's short enough and long enough,
She's sick enough and sound enough,
She's square enough and round enough,
She's black enough and white enough,
She's foul enough and bright enough,
She's thin enough and quick enough,
And she will soon be thick enough,
If you can give her P—enough.

72. The Mask of Adonis.

WHen all the night Ravens, & Bats of the [...]
Began to grow sleepy by reason of day [...]
[Page 99] [...]nd the Lamp of lustre, Joves Holiday spark,
[...]d chac't all the Symptomes of darkness away;
[...]eard a loud Eccho that cri'd.
Adonis, our moan is not to be deni'd.
[...]skt an old Hermit that dwelt in the Clods,
[...]hat meaned the sound in such wondrous measure;
[...] told me that there was a Mask of the Gods,
[...]nd all the spectators were Ladies of pleasure.
Then louder and louder they cri'd,
Adonis, &c.
[...]hen towards the Theatre I did accost,
[...] see their proceedings, and also to bear
[...]he harmony issuing out of the Host
[...]f Gods and Goddesses mingled there.
[...] But louder, &c.
[...] soon as I entered into th [...] croud,
[...]rd how I was daz'ed such sparks to behold!
[...]ey kist, & they quibbled, they curl'd & they bow'd.
[...]e stage being Paradise paved with gold.
But louder, &c.
[...]he f [...]rst of the actors that then did invade,
[...]as Mercury, grac't with a lute in his hand;
Whose Apology prov'd him a notable blade,
[...]s you in the consequence shall understand.
[...] But louder, &c.
[...]uoth he, I'me a messenger sent from the Court
[Page 100] To kiss all your lips, and this news to display,
That your senses must swim in the fountains of [...]
For the Gods are intended to court you to day.
Yet louder, &c.
Having ended his duty, he gently receded,
And Cupid (that Spark) did appear in his place,
With a Bow in his hand, and he lustily pleaded
Wnose presence was lined with amorous grace.
Yet louder, &c.
The bow (that was quicker to pierce then his ton [...]
He charg'd with a dart, and he shot a Sister
Of Hellens (that sat like an Angel among
The Ladies of pleasure) but haply he mist her.
Then louder, &c.
The Ladies requested the Lad to refrain,
And not to exhibit his strength any more;
Because of the wounds and the prickings of [...]
They took from his dart but a little before.
And louder, &c.
Apollo came in with a paper of verses,
Some said of the Ladies 't was in commendation
His love and his service to them he rehearses,
Well riveted in with a world of expression.
Yet louder, &c.
Harpocrates enter'd with signs and with wonder
[Page 101] [...] some he did beckon, to some he did nod,
[...]metimes he would roar like great Jove when he thunders
[...] he spake not a word, neither even nor odd.
Yet louder and louder they cri'd,
Adonis, our moan is not to be deni'd.
[...]e told me that this was the fool of the play;
[...]herein be Harpocrates greatly did wrong.
[...]r the badge of discretion is si [...]ence we say,
[...]d fools are known by a superfluous tongue.
But louder, &c.
[...]en Vulcan appeared in flashes of fire,
[...]d up to the top of the Theatre climbs:
[...]t could he not warm the spectators desires,
[...]ause his legs they resembled El [...]giack rhimes
But louder, &c.
[...]xt followed Mars with an Herald of Arms,
[...]ike the fool of a Puppet-play) riding before him:
[...]e turn'd him about, and among all the swarms,
[...]e singled out Vulcan, and swore he'd devour him.
But, &c.
[...]ow Vulcan he knew not the God at a blush,
Wherfore he demanded the cause of his threat:
[...]ou rogue (saies the warrier) your bones I wil crush;
[...]m Mars. whom thou tookst with thy wife in a net.
But, &c.
Each look of the Black-Smith encreas'd Mars his
(For souldiers are lightly more rigid then crafty, [...]
And Vulcan was forced himself to retire,
And lie in the snout of his Bellows for safety.
But, &c.
He being departed, Dame Venus came in
With ribbons, adorned like a Barth [...]mew fait [...]
Her breasts they were naked to shew her white [...]
No paints, nor persumings, nor powder was span [...]
But &c.
I am almost perswaded that this was a match ( [...]
'Twixt Mars and his dame; for they went throu [...]
And in a short time they their work did dispatch [...]
Whom Vulcan surpriz'd not as be did before,
But. &c.
But when they returned. Dame Venus her blood
Was suddenly risen so fresh in her face,
That, by her complexion, 't might be understood
The carnal condition of Mars his embrace.
But, &c.
Oceanus enter'd with two silver dishes,
Charg'd with Pickle-herrings, and prim'd with [...]
And Neptune succeeds with many small fishes,
And Mermaids especially waited at's heels.
But, &c.
[...]hen Pan (like a Piper) came into the Court,
[...]ttended with Oxen, with Goats, and with Sheep;
[...]e pip'd and they danced with rustical sport,
[...]nough to have lull'd all the Ladies asleep.
But, &c.
[...]roteus (Camelion like) the author of shapes,
Came changing his likeness as oft as a cloud:
Now he is an Ass, anon a Jack-an-apes.
[...]oon after an Eagle with feathers endow'd.
But, &c.
Priapus came in with a basket of Pears,
Which unto the Ladies he freely presented;
But sure had he g'in them his holiday wares,
He had been more welcom, & they more contente
But, &c.
Sappho, the petty God also appear'd,
(Though deifi'd not by the Poets Commission
Many birds having builded their nests in his be [...]
But the Synod abhorr [...]d him because of ambition
But, &c.
Blithe Bacchus succeeded with Sack and with Claret,
Whom Venus with Lillies and Roses had crown'd,
Yet nevertheless the conceit would not carry it,
Wine was not acquirable though 't did abound.
But, &c.
Now the Maskers perceiving no real intent
Would take to the croud by their politick action;
They compli'd and consulted a while, then they [...]
For the Goddesses also to make satisfaction.
But louder, &c.
The first that appeared was June, attir'd
With Silks and with Sattin: her linen was Law [...]
A sight you'd ha' thought were enough to have fi [...]
All tender-ey'd spirits, and brib'd them to pawn.
But, &c.
This argues th' condition that riches allow,
But speaks not a tittle concerning its pleasure;
For Iuno declar'd by her wrinkled brow,
That richmen of solace are scanted in measure.
But, &c.
Minerva succeeded with rustical dresses,
Her Apron was Canvas, her Gown it was Bayes:
She did not dishelve into publick her tresses;
Yet she was the subject of every ones praise,
But, &c.
From whence we may note, that the wisest of brai [...] dain [...]
Delight not so dearly to barnish their back which prudence [...]
With fancy born whimseys
As to furnish acquaintance with wit when they la [...]
But, &c.
[...]nerva did conge to all that she saw,
[...] scorn'd not the poorest that ever she ey'd;
[...]m whose disposition this tenet we draw,
[...]t wisdom that's true's not acquainted with pride.
But, &c.
[...]d afterward Venus did make her invasion,
[...]d was in a garment of Taffata wrapt;
[...]t a younker seduc'd her with little perswasion,
[...]m whence we note, beauty is easily snapt.
But, &c.
[...]es presented a sheaf of her corn,
[...]e best that her Servants could gather or reap;
[...]e Ladies of pleasure her present did scorn;
[...]r then (God be thanked) provision was cheap.
But, &c.
[...]en up started Luna, as fierce as a Lion,
[...]hose rigorous visage dissolved a Cloud:
[...]here souldiers this lesson may studdy and ply on,
[...]at they with austerity may be endow'd.
But, &c.
[...]ext after came Flora with lap-fulls of flowers,
[...]ith Pinks and with Gilli flowers mixt with carnations;
[...] bosom was arm'd with the jewels of bowers
[...]hings that might have conquerd the girls lamentation.
But, &c.
Now the Gods they discerning what Goddesses [...]
On the Theatre standing, their minds did advance [...]
To give a companion to every one there;
For the Gods were designed to lead them a dan [...]
But, &c.
They coupled with speed, & the Harpers they [...]
Sweet at Orpheus with Musick most rare,
A hormony pleasanter never was made;
The twang were enough to have ravish't the air,
But, &c.
They footed it neatly, and nimbly they caper'd,
They answer'd the Layes to a hair or a feather;
They flourish't their fingers about, and they vap [...]
They wag'd their light breeches too hither & thi [...]
But, &c.
But while they were busied Adonis came in;
Whose approch was discri'd by the light on the [...]
The Ladies knew him by the reflex of his skin,
But till they beheld him they mov'd not at all.
Yet, &c.
But when they discover'd his heavenly cheek,
They greedily ran to the boy and embrac't him;
Oh he was the Masker for whom they did seek!
And (Deity-like) they ador'd and they grac' [...] hi [...]
But then, &c,
[...]ns the fair Adonis concluded the sport,
[...]r now not a Masker at all was respected:
[...]is only Adonis the Ladies will court:
Adonis his actions ar [...] onely respected
[...] the Ladies which formerly cri'd.
Adonis our moan is not to be deni'd.

73. The lost Maidenhead.

AS I went wandring o're the grounds,
Where fruitful Ceres hand appear'd,
Among the soul-enchanting sounds
Of feather'd Choristers, I heard
Sla [...]inda making doleful moan,
[...]ecause her Maidenhead was gone.
Alas! (quoth she) the rose is fled,
That in my Azure veins did flow:
Ah pity me! my Maidenhead
[...]s loft, and now what shall I do?
Undone, undone, the woods proclaime;
My folly has betrai'd my fame.
The Gods (alas) will all combine
My sorrows to exasperate:
The blushing sun will cease to shine
On me. Oh cursed is my fate!
[Page 108] Undone, undone the mountains utter;
And angry heaven seems to mutter.
If love forbear to break my heart
In pieces by his bolts of thunder,
Yet will the chaste Diana's dart
Dash and divide me all in sunder.
Undone, undone, unhappy girl;
I've lost my Gem, my only Pearl.
But while she warbled out her wrong
By the bright vapors of her passion,
And mournful Dirges sadly song,
Serv'd up in cups of Execration:
An Eccho then repli'd and said,
Lament not for thy Maidenhead.
'Tis like proud flesh that hurts the wound,
If 'tis not clip't away in time;
Or like the swarfie scum that's found
In boyling pots: excessive slime,
Which if not scum'd when it doth rise,
Sinks in, and all within annoyes.
Yet if thy graces can but brook
The loss, but still thou dost implore it,
I'le give thee what another took;
If th' art content I will restore it.
Content I am, she answer'd then,
Restore it me thou happy man.
[Page 109] And theu he gave it,
As she did crave.
[...]he golden flower is now replanted
Within his native place again;
And fair Clarinda is not daunted,
Remembring no departed pain.
[...]ut since she found the loss so soft,
[...] fear she'l love to lose it oft.

57. Good Fellowship.

FIll, fill the glass to the brim,
'Tis a health unto him
That refuses
To be curb'd, or disturb'd
At the power of the State,
Or the frowns of his fate;
Or that scorneth to bark or to bite at our Mases:
And that never will vary
From the juyce of the Vine, and the cups of Canary.
Drink to your friend, drink away,
For the showers to day
Will replenish
The sweet Vine with rich Wine,
Which the But and the Pipe
Shall receive when 'tis ripe.
[Page 110] Both the white and the red, both the green and, th [...] Rhenish
For we never will vary, &c.
Watch, watch his waters, and see
He drink fairly, as he
That begun it:
Fill his Cup, fill it up;
For why should we pinch
Him, or bate him an inch?
'Tis his own ev'ry drop, and he ought not to shun [...]
There's no man shall vary, &c.
Mind, mind the work in your hand▪
Let the rogues in the land
Not affright us:
Hang the sons and the guns
Of proud Mars, though we hear
His rebounds in our ear;
Yet he neither can hurt us, disturb us, or bite us,
Nor force us to vary, &c.
Let them wrangle and jar,
They are Pillars of War
And contention;
But we'l stay all the day
In the Tavern, and find
More delight in our Wine
Then the Chymist can draw from the rarest invention
And we never will vary
From the juyce of the Vine, or the cups of Canary.

75. The Aspirer.

[...]Ull-fraighted with a strong desire, he seeks
[...] That fames loud Trumpeter might fill his checks,
[...] tell his glory to all humane ears,
[...]nd make it thunder in the Hemisphears:
[...]ought will suffice him but a large report
[...]f his magnificence about the Court;
[...]e would be Caesar faine: but heark my friend,
[...] all essayes premeditate thy end.
[...] that's exalted, quickly may be cast
[...] rapid storms, disturb'd by every blast:
[...]he Cedars tremble, while the Bushes stand,
[...]ot mov'd nor frighted by the winds command.
[...]nd the bold Borean arm most strongly knocks
[...]gainst the largest and the tallest rocks:
When fortune meeteth with her strongest foe▪
[...]e takes advantage there to overthrow.
[...]estruction glories and delights to ride.
[...]pon the shoulders of presuming pride.
[...]he longest freedom has the closest thrall:
[...]he highest rise begets the greatest fall.
[...]nce then such danger in the mountain lies,
[...]ond youth descend, descend if thou art wise.
[...] is a fate more happy to remain
[...]us belov'd, then Croesus in disdain.
[...]esides, thy worth can challenge no such thought,
[...]s Princes Reliques, they are dearly bought.
[Page 112] By birth & blood, blood spilt, and blood that's no [...]
Sad thoughts, high passions, and a world of tro [...]
Now, if th' are thine by birth and worthy deed,
Arm tho [...] thy self with boldness, and proceed
Unto possession; but (alas) we know
No birth nor merit e're in thee did grow.
Then spell thy self, and ponder on thy merit,
For thou art too unworthy to inherit
Such Gems as these. Each vulgar must not pass
Within the bounds of the Corinthian Lass.
Will thou be Prince? review thy [...]elf, and than
Thou mayst be happy if a Serving man.
Besides, were honour thine by Ioves decree,
Thou needst not seek for it, 't would follow thee.

75. Vice Courted.

ON melted Pitch can I my hand not lay,
But it must needs defile me?
Or court an unchast Mistress for a day,
But needs she must beguile me?
'Tis but a feeble Bulwark cannot bear
The brunt of one attempt:
There is no confidence in such a Sphere;
All vertue is exempt.
Go wet your hands in water, then you know
Pitch has no power to stain:
Go oyl your heart with grace, and whores also
Will tempt you, but in vain.
[Page 113] [...]n lie a little in Radopha's arms;
Be confident and wary,
[...] let thy chastity oppose her charm [...];
So may thy soul not vary,
[...] passively receive the sugered sin
That's bounded by her waste;
[...] (like the Diers hand) declare wherein
Thou dipdst thy finger last.
[...]etimes 'tis good to search corrupted souls.
For hence we may discern and see
[...] sad it is where only vice controls,
And prize more noble honesty.

76. Semper Idem.

VVHo would not morgage faith & fame
Purchase so divine a soul as she,
That is for ever more the same,
[...]ring no more then Anaxarete?
As the first day I came to wooe her,
[...]tedfastly she doth continue still;
And so 'tis like she will endure:
[...] she ne're lov'd me yet, nor ever will.
Let greedy Rivals then adjorn
[...]ir forward suits and sue for her no more:
For I shall still enjoy her scorn
[...]pite of them; she has' for me in store▪

77. Nobility.

TEll me no more, no more, thou young [...]
Of the renown due to thy predecessor▪
Tell me no more, no more, thou tardy Stoick,
What man was famous, or what man Heroick,
Thou being idle: This will rather bring
Lead, then a feather to the failing wing
Of thy own fame. This is not thy defence,
The publick eye looks on the present tense.
It looks not backward, then recite not thou
Thy fathers fame or merit: tell me now
Thy noble Acts, and so thou shalt repair
His rusty glory, and thine own: forbear
Fond Thraso, else you know such brags will be
Disparagements unto they line and thee.
What if thy father had been born a fool,
Hadst thou but prosper'd in the heroick School
Of rare exploits, then thou, shouldst have enjoy
Thy recompence (which none should have deni'd)
Abundantly, and in as ample measure.
As though all vertue were thy fathers treasure,
But if th' art foolish, though thy father was
A Tully or a Hector; yet, alas
'Tis no more beneficial unto▪ thee,
Then Alexanders glory is to me:
Only it adds more anguish to thy mind▪
When thou remembrest how thou hast declin'd▪
[Page 115] [...]n [...]w then, Nobility, if rightly meant,
[...] rather by self-action then descent.

78. The Extremes.

FAir one, those radiant lustres that arise
From (those bright Tapers) they Celestial e [...]
[...]ave fired me▪ I burn in every part,
[...]hey gnaw (like Vulters) my relenting heart.
And then the numness of you frozen zeal
[...]arves all my bliss, and makes my [...]ope conge
[...]o that my heart lies in a restless Urn;
With Cauoasus I freeze, with A [...]tna burn.
wherefore that sorrows may not me e [...]lipse,
chace frost and fire with thy love and lips.

79. The dying Lover.

YOu murthering eyes, you have disliv'd a man:
Nay, do not court me now, you never can
Repair the breach. Dull lamps they may be cherish
But there's no succour for a heart that's perisht.
You may deplore my fall, but not recover
The blood you spilt; deaths fatal blow is over.
And now behold I die, my senses reel,
My humane powers dissolove, I gently feel
My soul departing to the sphere above,
The low Elysium of terrestrial love.
[Page 116] Bewaile your self, not me, for I am ceast:
Yours is the crime, mine is eternal rest.
These words he spake, then with a doleful gasp,
His soul and body death did soon unhasp.

80. Furioso.

MOnsieur Mundungo, in a three-sol'd hat,
Lined with Louse- [...]kins, and a suit of that,
One day came walking with a sword b' his side,
Along the medows, where the man espi'd
Two Rivals fighting for a Lass that stood
Bleeding in sorrow, to behold, their blood.
To these he march'd, as though he'd have devou [...]
Both Lords and Lady too: Lord how he lowr'd!
With ears like Midas, and a head as large.
As Lugnals Chimney, or a Gravesend Barge.
His neck like Atlas, and the fool exprest
Deformed Tytius in his ugly breast.
His gouty f [...]ogers were like Millers pegs:
And great Colossus furnish'd him with legs.
This mighty Monster armed (I'le assure ye)
With hobnail tushes, oyl'd wing hellish fury,
Accosts these Champions, vowing in a breath,
To send their bodies to eternal death.
But as he enter'd to oppose the play,
He drew his sword, and stoutly run away.

81. Loves frailty.

[...]Ove, thou are a false delight,
Th' art shoulder'd up with blisses,
[...]nded with golden kisses;
[...]y holiday is night.
[...]e, thou art a wanton youth,
[...]d guilty of high treason
[...]gainst the Prince of reason:
[...]y target is untruth.
[...]e, those leering looks of thine
[...]e gilt with feigned passion,
[...]t with dissimulation:
[...]ttery's thy Brigandine.
[...]ve, thou art a subtile thiese.
[...]at dost both rob and wound us,
[...]d many times confound us,
[...]t giv'st us no relief.
[...]en Love avoid, and court my thoughts no more,
[...]y birth if spurious, Venus is a whore.
[...]ink not to trap me with thy sugered wiles▪
[...]are not for thy frowns, nor weigh thy smiles:
[...]he shall not please me, nor the other grieve me;
[...]auty shall neither wound, nor Love relieve me.

82. The She Cockney.

MY City dame fell sick, she sigh'd she wept▪
She went to bed, she slumber'd and she [...]
She rose again, she fed, she walk'd, yet still
Forsooth, my mistress was extremely ill.
It pleased her fleeting fancy then to steer
Her course into the fields, to see if there
Her qualm might cease, yet still (poor soule) [...]
Can meet with no cessation nor relief.
Her tender foot steps to the fragrant bowers,
She fed upon the fruits, she cropt the flowers,
She went, she wept, she smil'd, she sigh'd, yet [...]
Forsooth, my Lady if extremely ill.
Well, she retired to repose again
Upon her downy bed, yet still the pain
Attended her: Her pulse did loudly pelt;
Whose verberation I am sure I felt,
Which hardly she did, neither could she say
What was ker pain, or in what part it lay:
But 'tis the mode, forsooth, and therefore still
Our City Mistress i [...] extremely ill.

83. Weak Love.

BAse love that cannot hold
A frown;
[Page 119] [...]nd baser heart that is control'd,
And thrown
[...]to despair at one denial,
[...]ou hast betraid thee in thy trial.
[...]or heart that cannot bear
Nor brook
[...]ne vice, where many vertues are:
Nor look
[...]hrough's fingers at a venial error;
He learn't not this from C [...]pids mirror▪
[...]oor soul that cannot rest
A day
From her being absent, nor digest
Of promise, though he knows it be
Obstructed accidentally.
We know that girls will smile
And lowre▪
Now th' are as pert as Camomile,
Then sowre:
Who robs a Hive (loud fame doth sing)
Must with the honey taste the sting.
They'l crip, and rise agen,
[Page 120] And so
Experience cries the best of men
Will do:
And shall we therefore not descry
A fault and see it secretly?
They'l promise much, 'tis true,
And yet
They are slack to pay: and will not you
Do it?
Come, come, revise your self, you'l see
Her vice is your Epitomy.

84. Rosella Sleeping.

BLow not Zephyrus in the least▪ give o're
Dexamine to dash against the shore.
Advance thy trident, and put down thy billows;
Oh Neptune buzze not in the muffled willows.
Peace Hornets, musick, is of no effect,
Where dull ey'd Morpheus holds the intellect.
Then cease Canary-birds, and let her rest
Breathing on me, while I breath on her breast;
Whose balmy breath (so fragrant) shall refresh
The mournful passion of my panting flesh;
While her sweet eye-lids, on her eyes laid down,
Screen her poor lover from the torrid Zone.
[Page 121] [...]h is our walking in a Summers day,
[...]en cooler clouds mask Titans fiery [...]ay.
[...]en whistling Myrtles peace, refrain to shake,
[...]ke not Rosella till Rosella wake.

85. Minerva.

AWay, away all you that be
Of Cupids gang; your sugered faces
Are no Magneticks unto me,
I can detest your soft embraces:
[...]eed not care to flie from you,
[...]ave the Graces and the Muses too:
Go Vulcan, go and tell thy tale,
And shew thy vices to another;
Thou never shalt on me prevail,
I've wit enough thy flames to smother.
[...] can take pleasure void of you,
[...]ave, &c.
Go ruffling Courtiers, and salute
Such as you know will fall before ye;
No powder'd hair nor Sunday suit
Shall bribe Minerva to adore ye.
I can take pleasure, &c.
Go envi [...]s cursed whelps, and sit
Where snaky Strigies use to dally:
And you that spurn (like Zoilus) wit,
Go rest you in Charybdis valley.
I can rejoice in spite of you;
I have the Graces and the Muses too.

86. The Charm.

COme my fairest, come my dearest,
Come my dearest, come my fairest,
Let's enjoy
Cupids pleasure
In full measure,
Since here's none but thee and I.
Give me kisses, give me blisses,
Give me blisses, give me kisses.
Do not arise,
Let us dally
In loves valley,
While Apollo shuts his eyed▪

87. Rosella Maskt.

[...]O have I seen cloud impair
The azure Heavens, and the fair
[...]bition of the Prince o'th' air.
[...]nd I have seen the Borean weather
[...]eep all the clouds away together,
[...]nd drive them to I know not whither.
[...]ven so I've seen a Mask obscure
[...]osella's cheek, and vail the pure
[...]lustrious blood her veins immure.
[...]nd I have seen the vail has gone
[...]nd disinvellop't that fair Sun,
[...]s soon as I have breath'd thereon.

88. Tom Tell-troth.

I Love not a cast in the eye,
Nor lead in the edges of Knive [...]:
[Page 124] I love not a man that will lye,
Unless 't be with other mens wives.
I love not the ribs of a Lark,
I love not the brains of a Crow,
I love not a Dog that will bark,
Except he will bite also.
I love not to sit on a bench
While you put my foot in the Stocks,
But I love a beautiful wench,
Provided she has not the Pox.
I care not for hunting the Hare,
I care not for coursing the Coney.
I care not for selling my wave,
If I thought I should get no money.
I care not for courting a Witch,
Nor drinking of Milk when 'tis hairy.
I care not for eating of Pitch;
But I love to be drinking Canary.
I love merry lads in my heart,
That mirth with their honesty have:
[Page 125] [...]as for a fool I care not a fart,
[...]nd I cannot endure a knave.

89. The Dejection.

[...]Hy art thou chain'd to th' world? ca [...]st not remove
A little higher to the orbs above?
[...] slenderly dost thou thy stock improve?
[...]y is thy heart contained in a snare?
[...]at secret thought dulls fancy? Oh what are
[...] thoughts invellop't with the clouds of care?
[...] cam'st thou thus, what Cell-created news
[...] down thy progress? what condition screws
[...] genius to the post, and dulls my Muse?
[...]d down this fog, and let the beams of light
[...] a light heart I mean) display their bright
[...]ntial glories to disband the night.
not within thy self, what life is this?
[...] mirth is sadness, sorrow is thy bliss;
[...]u liv'st below a man, and think'st amiss.

90. O Yes!

O Yes! O yes! O yes! If any man
In City, Town, or Country can
Tell tidings of my Love, that's fled
Out of the warm and naked bed
Last night, while I lay slumbring by her;
Let him bring word unto the Crier,
And for his labour he shall have
As large requital as he'l crave.
Her Characters be these; She's drest
VVith honesty, and that's the best
Attire (I think) that Ladies wear.
Prudence has pleated up her hair:
As for her face, where e're you spie
A girl whose beauty blinds your eye,
And wounds your heart, say that is she;
And then conduct her safe to me:
For till I find her I must trace
Through all the thickets and the groves
Where lovers use to look their loves.
VVith Heroules I'le search the fountains,
And make an Eccho in the mountains,
For my fair one that's fled and hid;
As he for his dear Hylas did.
The torch of Cores I will borrow;
I'le search to day and seek to morrow;
Baulking no trouble, nor no pain.
Till I have found her out again.
[Page 127] [...] [...]onder, yonder sure she stands
[...] heavens, wringing both her hands.
[...] that's not she too, 'tis a cloud
[...] which poor Ixion once was proud.
[...]m mistaken, I must leave,
[...]d travel on, lest I deceive
[...] hopes, and smother up my love,
[...] will my search immortal prove.

91. The Reply.

ANd is she gone? Ah pity then!
That she should ere return agen
[...] you (dull Clown) whose slumbering eye
[...]uld fall asleep when she lay by.
[...]e was a jewel, it is true;
[...]d was esteemed so by you,
[...]hen you had lost her. Learn you then,
[...]ver she return agen,
[...] keep her as a Gem of cost,
[...]nd prize the Gem before it's lost.
[...]t all my fear is, that you had
Tytians face. This is no lad
[...]r fair Aurora; she will buss
[...]ther the young spark Caephalus.
[...]nd from her bed each morning flie
[...] wanton in the southern Skie.
[...]ntent you then with crazy age;
[...]nd if the Nymphs of Cupids stage
[Page 128] Fly off from thence, this is the reason
They love not faces out of season:
Time-wasted flesh, and wrinkled brows
Are no fit objects for their bows.
Love's fresh and young, the like it loves,
But snorting age it never moves.

93. A Token.

HEre take my heart, my heart and body too,
Had I a greater gift I'de give it you.

The Exception.

COuld I but sink into your thoughts, and spy
Your roving fancy in your rolling eye;
I'de cast mine eyes upon't, and if I found
Your love was loyal, and your heart was sound,
I would accept them, but I dare not take
Vail'd Gems at venture, nor presume to make
Such cover'd bargains. Leave your suit fond lover,
Unless the gift you give you can uncover.

Another Token.

THat our affection may increase and shine,
Let's change, give me thy heart, and thou [...] mine

The Exception.

[...]Eep home your heart pray, and from me retire,
'Tis more then my desert, or my desire.
[...] be no changling, 't would produce much dangers
[...] turn acquaintance out, and put in strangers.
[...] heart lives well, and does not care to move;
[...]y be content, I thank you for your love.

94. The Station.

COme fancy, and do not thou dabble
Thy wings, nor the wit of thy Muse,
[...]mong the sophisticate rabble
[...] Judas's, Doegs and Jews.
[...]y off from their modes, do not mingle
Nor mix
[...]y nature with theirs; tarry single,
And fly from their tricks.
[...]un the fraud of the Court, if you ken it,
[...]nd from the loose Libertines fle [...];
[...]et be not so strict as Saint Bennet:
[...]r that superstition would be.
[...] sure thy designs they be stable
And stout,
[Page 130] And let them be invariable,
Not like to the rout.
Let Jesuits envy their Masses,
And Recabites fall to their Wine:
Let Puritans fly from their Lasses;
And Atheists all be divine.
Let Ranters lie down with the Sleepers;
And then
Let the zealous Pilgrims, and Weepers
Turn laughers agen.
Let um chop, let um change, let um alter,
Though one take the Crown for the Oare:
Though some the gold chain for the halter,
And some the Strapado for th' Whore.
Though some 'stead of rags gather riches
And fame;
And some bewray their noble breaches:
Yet I'le be the same.
'Tis neither bad time, nor bad season
Shall cut off the cords of my mirth:
'Tis neither bad rhime nor bid reason
Shall spoil my design in the birth:
Let every one change as he pleases:
But yet
[Page 131] [...]ther solace or sorrow encreases,
I'le not stir a bit.
Science is clearly convicted
[...]t all their intentions are vain:
[...]refore I their folly relicted,
[...] never will mind them again.
[...]ow them, I felt them, I tri'd them
At best.
[...]e them not, but Semper Idem
For ever I'le rest.

95. Urbs infoelix.

IF like a Mill my Harp did move,
I need not use my fingers,
Nor call for help from heaven above,
Nor seek for earthly fingers.
[...] streams of tears that from mine eyes gusht out,
[...]uld be enough to turn the wheel about.
I've search'd each angle of thy soul,
I've peep't through every cranny,
I find beyond compare th' art foul,
Thy vices are too many
[Page 132] For tongue to tell to the intentive ears,
Flowing as proudly as my brack [...]sh tears.
I from my window cast mine eye,
Where wanton girls were seen,
All clothed with immodesty,
And prides rich Magazine:
Whose proud array, and prouder looks did tell
Their journeys were in vain, their end was hell.
Unhappy people, come refrain;
Renew your so lowing years:
Weep for your loss and for your gain,
Till sin is drown'd with tears.
Your golden mines of Love and Peace are dumb,
While leaden strife and envy take their room.

96. The Iron Age.

VVHen Saturn dwelt in Italy,
The Golden Age begun:
But (Ah!) ere my nativity,
The Golden Age was done.
I've read how he sometimes would go
And drink a pint of Wine
[Page 133] [...]ith old Japetus, where they two
Would tell a tale divine.
They had their feasts of Love and Peace,
Knitting their hearts in Vno:
But now in stead of these, we be
Like Heroules and Iuno.
T was after that Iove had bereaven
His Father of his Crown,
And had assum'd the power of Heaven
To be his only own.
This revolution did produce
An happy Scene of powers;
And pleasure then was grown profuse:
I wish the case were ours.
But look where Pride doth sway the Stage.
And Folly rules the Pagin,
Th' event will be the Iron Age,
As well you may imagine.

97. The Bride Weeping.

FLee blushing Sol, thy motion is too slow;
And V [...]sper thou delai'st.
Has night forgotten what she has to do,
Or turn'd Loves bitter foe,
And so will not make haste?
Pity remorseless Gods, and see
How the sweet girl has wept for ye.
Lash on thy Nag dull Phoebus, and renew
Vesper thy tardy pace;
And lazy night lend your assistance too.
We only wait your race,
We only wait for you.
See how she panteth for the sport,
Her heart even breaks in longing for't.
Peace wrong d girl, and rest a while content,
Relief begins to spring:
Darkness doth vail the brighter element.
Bubo extends her wing,
While day [...] birds cease to sing.
Then peace my dear, and cease to cry,
Thou shalt be eased by and by.

98. The Passion.

AH, wo is me! she turns aside,
And still refuses:
When I would kiss, I am deni'd
With cold excuses.
Ah me! I can receive no rest,
But I must perish,
Until her lips and mine con [...]est,
My soul to cherish,
But that I know she'l never do;
She holds it evil.
Then fare her well, and let her go
Unto the Divel.
She that refuses my good will,
And scorns my favour,
I'le also scorn to wooe her still,
But let the Divel have her.

99. To Fate.

TRead under Fate, be not destroy'd,
Rouse up again and live;
Take courage and revive:
Take reason for thy guide:
Love's blind, and so is fortune, let them be
Captains-Conducters to themselves, not me.
Sigh not sor sorrows past, refrain
To let base fear control
The sallies of thy soul:
What priviledge we gain
By giving vantage unto sorrow, shall,
If put into our eyes, not hurt at all.
Adversity's of no effect
To smother, or to bind
A well disposed mind.
Fleet Souls low Spheres neglect;
And soaring to another Zone, they claim
Fates upper hand, and wear the Crown of Fame.
Come then my soul, and see thou go'st
Into thy self, and there
Survey what things you wear,
Then get what you have lost.
And arm'd with courage, to the world relate
Thy self triumphant o're the Tower of Fate.

100. Confidence.

COuld I imagine how I might
Destroy my foes in thinking,
Or draw their bloods by drinking,
I'de stay at home, and in an Angle fight.
Yet may I triumph o're the times
With my laborious Quill
(While I my self sit still)
With measur'd Rhetorick, and melodious rhimes.
Then arm thy self Vrania,
And flee to every Zone
That Mortals trend upon.
Surround the Globe, and in their fansies play.
Sprout forth young sprig of tender Wit,
Well fledg'd with Dorick strains,
Flee swiftly from my brains,
And let the world see I'm not [...]rb'd by it.
Grow Darts on thy ignoble Stem,
That wisely may resist
[Page 138] Each proud Antagonist;
And tell thy foes thou w [...]lt not stoop to the [...]

101. The Check.

BUt stay, lie down my soul,
Lie down, (dear soul) and leave
The world, corrupt and foul
With vanity, and cleave
Unto thy self, and like a Hermit, spend
Thy days in silence, till thy days shall end.
He sleeps in silver peace
That in a Cell remains,
Where altercations cease
Both from his breast and brains.
No revolution of the reeling State
Can mend or mischief his monastick fate.
No blustring blast that blows
From rigid mouths of Kings;
No poysoned surge that flows
From worth-consuming springs
Can drown his fortunes by their furious flashes,
Or beat his walls down by their dismal dashes.

The Counter Check.

BUt stay (my soul) th' art born
A burning Taper bright,
Whose luster should adorn
Thy neighbour and the night.
Then spread thy beams, and he that shall despise
T' embrace thy light, may it burn out his eyes.

102. Sack-Drawers.

YOu Swains of the Deity ruling the Vines,
Why hang ye your heads and decline in your spi­rits?
What! can ye not meet in the strength of the wines,
The high supposition that Bacchus inherits?
The Calling you follow
Is allow'd by Apollo,
Where he and his Muses do feed:
And ye are all Gentlemen Drawers indeed.
Ye are all better then Princes, all heavenly heirs,
The honey-lip [...] Bacchus (a God) is your father;
But some have the Devil, the Devil for theirs.
[Page 140] Then are ye not worthy and reverend rather?
Your Function's a treasure of solace and pleasure,
As it by the Gods was decree'd.
And ye are all. &c.
Each day is a Holiday full of delight;
No Antidote like unto Wine against sorrow,
We sing and we play and are wanton to night,
Which mirth doth encrease and is doubled to mor­row
With singing and laughing,
With drinking and quaffing,
Our fancies we fleece and we feed,
For we are all, &c.
And are we not company fit for the best
Of Nobles and Gallants that tread on the Center?
With them we confer, we comply and contest,
VVhich doth to our profit arise peradventure.
Our ways do present us
All things that content us;
There's nothing at all that we need.
And we are all, &c,
VVe eat of the best, and we drink of as good,
A dish of Ambrosia each day is prepared;
And also to nourish our hearts and our blood,
Nepenthe and Nectar is liberally shared.
[Page 141] Our Tenches and Sammons.
Our VVenches and Gammons,
Canary our Cod-pieces bleed.
Then are we all Gentlemen Drawers indeed.
Our Rent is prepar'd, our Taxes are paid,
No secular action doth cause us to alter,
And he that is bent to repine at our Trade,
As well when he's hanged may rail at his halter.
Let no man upbraid us,
Since heaven bath made us
Mechanick to rule and exceed.
For we are all, &c.
Then let the dumb Stoick do all that he can,
VVe live by our Melody, he by his mettle.
A fig for the Rechabite, and Puritan,
VVhose head is as round and as dull as a Beetle:
I ever will follow
The drink of Apollo,
Ejecting the juyce of the weed.
And we are all Gentlemen Drawers indeed.

103. Her Endowments.

MY Mistress must be spic'd with pride,
And not corrupt with silthy scorn;
[Page 142] She must be wanton too beside,
Yet not too much for fear o'th' horn.
She must not be as others are,
Either too foolish or too wise:
She must be near, but not too fair,
Left her bright luster blind my eyes.
I care not for rich cloaths or coin:
'Tis feigned love that sues for stock.
But where I fix this love of mine,
I'le love my Mistress in her smock.

104. Griefe.

AWay (thou gnawing worm) fond grief.
Away from me, away.
Thy absence is my sweet relief,
Then flee without delay;
He that gives way to woe and sorrow,
May grieve to day, and mourn to morrow.
Go now into another Zone,
Where mortal brains are light,
And press them down; I've need of none
Since I have felt thy weight.
He that shall change his frown for laughter,
May laugh to day, and sing hereafter.
[...]rid you both, and know you well;
But do not like you so;
A light heart has no parallel,
But oh the pangs of woe!
Yet Woe, the heart can never shoot,
If Thought be not the Porter to't.
Then get the touch-stone which may turn
All dross and dregs to gold.
When grief begins in you to burn.
Let fancy make it cold:
Know either peace, or blustring passion.
Arises from th' imagination.
Suppose you then that all is good,
And in that thought r [...]pose:
This will alay that fiery blood
Which in thy body flows.
And mark me now (for this is chiefe)
Nothing on earth requireth griefe.
If accident should chance to fall,
It falls from heaven above.
Then let no poverty or thrall,
Your soaring spirits move.
[Page 144] Nothing but sin can grief require,
Then grieve for sin, else grief expire.

55. A Quiet Mind.

IN midst of plenty only to embrace
Calm patience, is not worthy of your praise;
But he that can look sorrow in the face
And not he daunted, he des [...]rves the Bayes.
This is prosperity, when ere we find
A heavenly solace in an earthly mind.
Let Croesus then with drossie coin depress
His heavy heart, while mine to heaven flies;
He lies tormented in a deep distress,
Whiles I am regent in the throne of joyes.
Oh here is happiness, when men can find
An empty pocket, and a thankful mind.
Estates are fetters, if they are not blended
With charity, and not too much of care:
Hence is the soul not better'd but offended;
Riches with reason is a jewel rare.
Yet poor or rich be quiet, and you'l find
No blessing level to a quiet mind.

106. Love stealing his Mistress.

HAnd in hand, and heart in heart,
We will secretly depart,
(While the Dogs and Cocks and Crows
Nature calleth to repose.)
To the valley,
Where Venus use to dally.
Come away,
Leave relations all at home,
Make conceit oblivions pray.
Its no thest to steal loves pleasure,
Or to rob its golden treasure,
Then prepare thy self, and come
To Cupids dark Elysium,
Where we'l take a thousand kisses,
Searching out more secret blisses.
Let invention frame excuses,
Love and Ladies have their Muses.
Wanton Cupid though he's blind,
Can a thousand crotchets find
To excuse thee,
While I gently use thee.
Let us fly
(Silent as the subtile Crane [...]
Over Taurus) through the skie,
[Page 146] To the Park of Venus, where
I will soon hunt down my Dear,
Tracing thy Meandring veins,
To take pleasure for my pains.
There I'le hunt thee down with laughter,
Shooting not before, but after.

107. A Health.

HEre's a health to her, whose Power
Surmounteth all the rest,
To her that only I adore,
To her I fancy best,
To her that can with subjects fill
My nimble Brains, or empty Quill,
And furnish me with sense divine;
It is this noble glass of Wine.
Let others fansie whom they please,
Their poor and feeble Mistresses;
Yet I will still embrace the Cup
Brim full of Sack, and hug it up.

108. The Exaltation.

A Rout, a rout my fansie cries,
If reason shall give way to't,
I know not what to say to't.
Then wake sublimer thoughts, and rise,
Help me quickly,
I am sickly,
Despair is come, and pleasure dies,
But yet me thinks it should not do't,
Hast thou no more discretion?
Then hark to my expression,
And it will be a fair recruit.
Thy dull spirit
Of such thoughts as make it mute.
Rear up the down-falls of thy heart.
Remit both care and sorrow
To day before to morrow.
This is a melancholy smart,
From which Colledge
All the knowledge
We derive's not worth a fart.
Sweep down the Cobwebs of despair,
Shake hands with in-bred pleasure,
Dive in light fancies treasure;
And bid your heaviness forbear.
Be oblivious
(Not sascivious)
Of your folly, not your prayer.
Drink down disasters, wash away
The filth of all misfortune,
And to the Gods importune,
That Bacchus power may not decay.
'Tis Sack and Claret
That will carry't
When the world shall say you nay.
Reject times errors, such as steer
The conscience to perdition:
As envy and ambition.
Shun Lady-lust, if she appear,
And do not dally
In her valley,
Neither seek for Venus there.
Your cordial help and your redress,
[Page 149] Your strength and sure assistance,
Which is not at a distance)
[...]rink that from the Grape we press.
Then do not vary
From Canary;
'Tis your help and happiness.

109. Reality.

CAst off conceit a while, lay fancy by.
And clear thy pockets of Hyperbolic.
This done (my Genius) court me, and declare
What worthy creatures all your Women are.
Women are sugered Pills, the baits of Gins,
[...]xt with corruption, and a world of sins.
Man wins the day, but Woman bears the same:
Th' are Maps of Modesty but [...] the same.
Deluding Devils in the garb of Saints;
Built of corruption, beautisi'd with paints,
VVhom nature sent (though art did them attire)
Like Sampsons Foxes, to set all on fire.

110. The Ultimum vale.

I Shall not beg your praise, nor spend my breath
In expectation of a Laurel VVreath.
Read and give judgement, be it good or ill,
All's one to me, I'le not confine my Quill
Unto such servile labour, as to measure
Out this Lords humor, or that Ladies pleasure,
I write my down-right fansie, and I bend
Not for the fear of Foe, or love of Friend.

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