Wit in a wildernesse of promiscuous poesie by the author Tho. Jordan.

Wit in a wildernesse of promiscuous poesie by the author Tho. Jordan.

Table of contents

Title page

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WIT IN A WILDERNESSE Of Promiscuous POESIE: THE CHARACTERS OF A Compleat POET. WITH An Apology for POETRY.

A Poem composed, and spoken by the Author to the late King at the Dedication of Mr. Tho. Bushel's Rock at Enston in Oxon, 1638. in the porson of Caliope.

On Fickle, and his Mistris Lydia.

A double Acrostich and Anagram on the Noble Name of the much honored Sir Tho. Fisher Baronet.

Sir Thomas Fisher Baronet (Anagram) Starri Beams shine forth.

On a Love-Bag which a Gentleman found, and concealed from a Lady, when they were playing at Questions and Commands.

An Epitbalamium on the Names and Nuptials of Mr. William Drayton, and the most devoutly vertnous Mrs. Grace Drayton.

An Encomium to the much honored Rich. Cheyny of Hackney Esquire, his bountiful Patron, and to his incomparably vertuous Consort.

A Poetical Parley, with a thredbare Cloak; Dedicated to his worthy friend, M. HEN. STONESTREET.

A Defence for women, in an answer to a vulgar invective.

A disswasion to a very virtuous Lady, who resolved to be a Nun.

Thrones, Annagram, Thornes.

On the late K. departure, 1642.

On his conclusion.

An Encomium, written in the commendation of red Noses; contriv'd at the request of a friend, and dedicated to all of that Livery.

A Panegirick, written at the invitation of a Gentleman, who was then going to the Press with a book, entituled, The Praise of Podex.

On Filcher.

On Silence.

On Chat's Wife.

An Apologie for Danceing, Dedicate to all the active Proficients, but more peculiarly unto Mr. R. L.

An Epitaph in an Acrostick, on the Name of his worthy Friend THOMAS MILWARD Gent. whose face (by general conception) was very like the late King.

§

To his worthy friend Mr. THO. JORDAN.

To Mr. T. J. on his Poems.

§

To the much honored HEN. STONESTREET Gent. on London Bridg.

To Mr. H. S. in answer of his ingenious Poem.

On a Cavalier.

Slut (the Annagram) Lust.

An Aerostical Eulogy composed on the name of his much respected Coz•n M. FRANCIS JORDAN of Ensham, in the County of Oxon.

A Comparison.

On Lay-Elders.

An Elegy and Epitaph on the death of the right worshipful SIR NATH. BRENT KNIGHT, Doctor of Law, and Iudg of the Pr•rogative Court, who exchanged this present life in the year 1653.

The Epitaph.

An Epitaph on a good wife.

A Similc on a fine Whore.

To his faithful ingenuous friend and old acquaintance, J. T. Gent.

On a crooked Scold.

On Rant.

A Mock Epithalamium, composed for the Nupti•ls of an illiterate Brewer and his Bride.

An Epithalamium, on the noble Nuptials of Mr. WILL. CHRISTMAS Merchant, and Mis. ELIZABETH CHRISTMAS.

A Fable.

The Moral.

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[Page]

[Page] WIT IN A WILDERNESSE Of Promiscuous POESIE.

By the Author Tho. Jordan

Hunc novere modum nostri servare Libelli,

Parcere personis, dicere de vitiis.

LONDON Printed by R. A.

§

§

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[Page] TO THE LIBERALL LOVER, CHARITABLE CHERISHER, AND PIOUS PRESERVER OF

INDUSTRY,

HONESTY,

CHAST INGENUITY,

SCIENCE and CIVILITY

THE much HONORED GEORGE Lord Bishop of St Ashaph WITH Due Addresses, I present and Dedicate the dull devotion of these imperfect and unpolished POEMS.

WIT IN A WILDERNESSE Of Promiscuous POESIE: THE CHARACTERS OF A Compleat POET. WITH An Apology for POETRY.

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HE is a man from Prophanation free,

Unreverend railings, or obscoenity;

His Muse commits no treason against trust,

Doth not invite to vengeance, pride or lust;

He is Truth's Favourite, and nere exalts

His Mean Degree, by guilding great mens faults;

[Page] Who sitting in his own sublimed height,

Survays, and weighs the billow-beaten fate

Of towring Statists, who do vainly raise,

Their Arms on bladders blown with vulgar praise

Popular throats, who in one hour, will cry

Both Halelujah, and Crucifie:

Whose lungs (like Whirlwinds in tempestuous weathers)

Do bear down Churches, whilft they blow up Feathers.

This, and much more then this, we safely fee

Through the clear Opticks of pure Pectry:

There we see one, whose head within few years

Did bear a Mytre, now wears Band ô Liers:

Would it not move a Poets spleen with jest,

To see a Crosier made a Musket Rest?

Yonders another (by swift alteration)

Struck dumb, that was the Tongue of a wholeNation:

The Scene is chang'd, and He whose high command

Held up his head, must now hold up his hand;

He that in Law did hold such learned strife,

Must shew by what tenure he holds his Life;

What Act so firm that strength cannot devoure?

For Laws are but the Favorites of Power:

What's he that will submit, his Sword and Tent

To the tame vigor of an Argument?

Or will resign his ravish'd power upon

The flegmatick results of Pro and Can?

These are the vile vicisitudes which we

Are not obnoxious to in 'Poetry:

Such storms fly over us, when have ye known

Pernassus under Sequestration?

[Page] Or Pegasus his winged shoulders stoop

To the Conductor of a County Troop?

What Sequestrator yet could ever call

The Muses unto Hab [...]rdashers Hall?

Go search the books where Prize accompts are writ,

You'l searce find Item took ten tun of wit,

For what they have, so tenderly theyhandle,

It may be vented by one inch of candle:

A Poets poverty is a defence

'Gainst the most honorable insolence:

We have no Ships at Sea, doubt no distress

Our hopes are little, and our fears are less:

Whilst the poor Merchant (rob'd by Dutch or French)

Sinks in th' Exchange, to rise in the Kings Bench:

Shew me that Age a Poet can produce,

Who ever lost a thousand pound at Use?

Or who can say a Poet hath un done

An hundred families to raise one Son?

Whilst the grave Mizer, and his powder'd Sir

Study to be damn'd in Diameter:

Pray tell me (you that lye upon the lurch)

What brack in State, or Schism in the Church

Hath Poetry begot? what Kingdom lies

Drown'd in its tears for Poets villanics?

Wealth and ambition tempt not us, we pity

The careful Country, and the subtil City;

Where one mans bounds a hundred fields imbrace

To pick out three yards for his burying place:

Whilst we under the shadow of one tree

Extract more absolute content then he

[Page] Finds in the firtil substance; vve have more

Wealth at command, then rolls along the shore

Of golden Ganges; He is onely poore

That hath too much, if he do vvish for more:

And he is truly rich that in his dish,

And on his back hath all that he can vvish:

Somtimes vvee'r wound [...]d vvith Loves dart, but then

Our Contemplation licks us vvhole agen:

Content is our Elixar, vvhat a stir

The Patient Reason-rackt Philosopher

Keeps for the Stone, attending all events

That fall from fast, and loose Experiments:

He sayes he vvill make Gold of Lead and Brass:

But (in the end) turns his ovvn Gold to Glass:

His Furnace then as bad as hell doth grovv;

And he (poore man) is damn'd in Balneo,

Whil'st he that sits upon the Muses hill,

Crovvn'd vvith content, turns all to vvhat he vvill;

Paine into pleasure, Misery to Myrth,

By sacred skill ext [...]acts Heaven out of earth,

All out of nothing, and (at length) can dye

With a difiance to all Tyranny:

Like Lucan in his Bathing Tub, that stood

Speaking of verses, vvhi'lst his eyes ran blood:

Nor are they Poets that can onely chyme

In numbers, and put gi [...]gles into Rhyme:

But he vvhose Catholique Conceptions can

Demonstrate to the Intellect of man

By active Metaphor and Alegory,

Remote designe, Antique and modern story,

[Page] Descriptions of Battalia's, Sea-fights,

The Characters of sorrows and delights;

Annual seasons, rivers, weeping fountains,

The firtil Valleys, and the mineral Mountains:

All forreign Countries, Cities, and Kings Courts,

Their trade, war, Law, Religion, food and sports;

All contrarieties, and what doth border

Upon the Banks of Beauty and disorder;

All passions and affections that do lye

Reveal'd, or hid in mans capacity:

Great Kings you are our Subjects, though more true

You are to us, then yours have been to you:

We can imbalm your Vertues with pure Spices,

And make a Pickle shall preserve State-vices

Five hundred years, the rage a P [...] vents,

Can rase a thousand Marble Monuments:

The Factious people do but vainly strive

To kill that Fame vvhich we will keep alive.

What are the deeds of the most valiant men,

If Poets do not write them o're agen?

'Twas not Achilles Lance, nor Hectors Shield,

But Homers Poetry that won the Field;

Caesar and Pompey, Worthies more then men,

Were made, not by their Acts, but Lucan's pen;

What are your best Orations, if they be

Not guilded by the Beams of Poetry?

It is a sweet Compendium of all Arts,

Divide the Bible in four equal parts,

And (by your disquisition) 'twill be known

(Without offence) that Poetry is one;

[Page] (Though not the first in order) th' other three

Treat of Law, History, and Propheey:

Then blush for shame you that do bid defiance

To the bright Beams of so serene a Science;

For he that dares give it an ill report,

His understanding is a foot too short.

A Poem composed, and spoken by the Author to the late King at the Dedication of Mr. Tho. Bushel's Rock at Enston in Oxon, 1638. in the porson of Caliope.

LOe I Caliope chief of the Nine

And first in order of that triple Trine;

The Muses Sisterhood; (for who is he

That knows not of our sacred Hierarchy)

Am now at length, through many a weary mile

Safely arriv'd upon the British Isle:

The causes of my coming, what they were

That drew me to this Western Hemisphere,

Are these, the Muses heard (for nothing's done

Which they discern not in a Vision)

Of a strange Rock discover'd under ground,

That with fresh streams and wonders doth abound,

Which Nature unto such perfection brought,

It looks like day from the old Chaos wrought;

And hath the Pomp and pleasures of the place

That a great King and Queen have daign'd to grace,

And with their presence (far transcending ours)

Oft' visit those pure Wells and hallowed Bowers:

[Page] When these glad tydings from our Servant Fame

Were whisper'd in our eare, I strait way came

In person mounted on the fiery wings

Of our owne Pegasus, to view these Springs,

To make a strict survay what waters flow,

What walks are in it, and what woods doe grow;

And (as I liked them) they (on my report)

Would hither come, and hasten their resort:

But 'tis known Maids may long, and I would fain,

(Ere my return) first see that Soveraigne,

That Royall Charlemaine whose actions are

Worthy the Muses and their Register;

Whose deeds a Patern, and whose life a Law,

Doth the whole Court to imitation draw

Of his rare virtues, (without flattery)

The height of my ambition is to be

Made happy in the object of his sight

And his deare Spouse the Consort of his light;

Kiss her faire hand, who is (as Fame doth say)

More bright then is our owne Urania:

But stay! what sudden lustre strikes my sence

With some quick, but Seraphick influence?

Who ever ask'd for Phoebus in the Skyes,

Or which was love amongst the Deities?

Foole that I am, 'tis easie to devine,

Where e're the Beames of Majesty doe shine:

Then I address my self great Sir to you,

To whom these Titles and these Rites are due:

By me the Muses humbly fall before

Your sacred feet, and prostrate them adore,

[Page] [...]owing their antient dwellings to forsake,

[...]hat they your Princely favours may partake:

[...]da, Parnassus, and the flowry Plain

Of Thessaly no longer shall detain

Their svvift approach, but all the Virgin Pack

[...]n glory seated on the vvinged back

Of firtil Zephyrus, shall hither come,

And make these Springs their everlasting home;

Here vvill they sit, and Carol forth your Fame,

Your nursing Nature, and your noble Name:

Then in exalted numbers tell hovv great

You are, vvhen mounted in your Mercy Seat;

And that this pregnant lsle you do inherit,

Not more by right of Bloud, then right of Merit.

Could you disclaim the line of your extraction,

And (amongst millions) stand for Saul's election,

It would appear conspicuous to beholders,

That you excell in soul, as he in shoulders:

This Trinity of Crowns you wear, respect

Your will, your memory, and intellect;

(The number of perfection) for you are

The Muses Evening, and their Morning Star.

On Fickle, and his Mistris Lydia.

FIckle is vex'd at heart (he sayes) to see

His Lydia look on him so s [...]urvily;

Thou art a most unconscionable man,

Would'st have the Wench look better then she can?

A double Acrostich and Anagram on the Noble Name of the much honored Sir Tho. Fisher Baronet.

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Though the tall Cedar, and the loyal shrub

Fall at the fury of the Zealots tub

Hopes yet are pregnant, that the good old way

In Presents merit no Anathem

Oblations of this harmless nature are

Surely no motives for another war

Much honor'd Sir, then grant him pardon, who

Hath don, but what your favors move him t

All [...]oly happiness that men have known

Ere since our Saviours Incarnation

Secure your soul and body, goods and name,

Renown your Family, and guard your Fame

May all, and more then I can say or write,

Contribute to your next New-years deligh

Sir Thomas Fisher Baronet (Anagram) Starri Beams shine forth.

HOw well your Title, and your honor'd Name

Comply in this apposet A [...]agram;

For in an Age when Learnings Laureat Head

Is with Cimerian darkness overspread,

That men can scarce discover vvit or vvorth,

Most men confess your Starri Beams shine foorth.

On a Love-Bag which a Gentleman found, and concealed from a Lady, when they were playing at Questions and Commands.

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I Will confess, rack me no more, 'twas I

(Not out of gain, but curiofity)

That hid your Crewil Love-hood in a place

Obscure, because it did obscure your face;

Wbo would uot (were he neer) some hazard run

To take away that Cloud which hides the Sun?

Or what is he, that would not (if he might)

Withdraw that Curtain which divides the light;

This is my Fact, and had a Judg been by

He would have been guilty as well as I.

I must confess when I was held in bands.

By curious Questions, and vvith kind Commands;

I pleaded guiltless, though 'twas understood

I did but wear two faces in one Hood:

Yet now I hope submission and confession

Will wave my Doom, and nullifie the Session;

The gentle Iudg will lay aside his fury,

And fright my sence no more with a grand Jury;

For I was much afraid (e're I did part)

That I should be burn'd in the hand or heart,

The fear is past, and (to end controversie)

Prey let my restitution meet your mercy:

Pardon the Crime, and cease to think upon

His fact, that doth return you two for one.

An Epitbalamium on the Names and Nuptials of Mr. William Drayton, and the most devoutly vertnous Mrs. Grace Drayton.

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Worth crown your Nuptials, may your Union prove

Great as the Sacred Bonds of Angels love:

Ioy kindle your bright zeals, may the flame rise

Resplendent as the Phoenix Sacrifice:

Love, health, wit, wealth, with all delights that can

Advance the honor of deserving man:

Lend lustre to your Loyalties, may you

Command all good your wish can prompt ye to.

If Poets may prove Prophets, I foretel

Exceeding pleasures, without parallel,

Are moving toward you; ye nere shall know

Division, nor no other Wedlock woe:

Many fair Babies may the Bride bring forth

Repleat with all things, which wise men call worth:

Dutiful, gracious, beautiful and bright,

As are the Stars in number, and in light:

Riches shall flow so fast upon your shore,

You may as well compt sands, as tell your store;

And you shall see your Childrens Children prove,

That they are Off-springs of a loyal love:

You never shall know jealousie, but be

Our purest Paterns of integrity:

These things may come to pass, for we all know

Nothing's impossible to him we owe

Our Faith, and our Alleageance; but however,

Let nothing dull the edg of your endeavour,

Nor at the chances of this world be vext,

What's wanting here, will be supply'd ith' next.

Sic Vaticinatur,

Your Servant, J. T.

An Encomium to the much honored Rich. Cheyny of Hackney Esquire, his bountiful Patron, and to his incomparably vertuous Consort.

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HEalth, wealth, worth, wit, with all that can be brought

In the circumference of humane thought

Exalt your soul and body; may the breath

Of Praise and Prayer guard your life and death:

Nothing appear to you, but what may be

A Badg of honor, or of amity;

What God can give, or wisest men intreat,

Fall upon you, till you are good and great:

May your dear Consort▪ and her issue grow

Brighter then Lillies on the Banks of Po [...]:

All Excellence that waits on humane breath,

From the disquiet Cradle to the death,

Remain with you two, in whose Spirits move

Concords Elixar, and the soul of Love:

May all that man can wish, or Angels do,

(In sacred consultations) fall on you:

Wit wait upon your wealth, what e're is fit

For man to ask, may you accomplish it;

May Providence defend ye from those jars

That sink great families in Civil wars:

Religion rule my Poesie, that all

Which I have said, may prove Prophetical.

These are the wishes, and the prayers of one,

Who makes your welfare his devotion.

A Poetical Parley, with a thredbare Cloak; Dedicated to his worthy friend, M. HEN. STONESTREET.

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CLoak! (If I may so call thee) though thou art

My old Acquaintance, prythee now let's part;

Tho [...] wert my equal friend in thirty-one,

But now thou look'st like a meer Hanger-on:

And ar [...] so useless to me, I scarce know

Sometimes, whether I have thee on or no;

But this I needs must say, when thou goest fro me,

These ten years thou hast been no burthen to me:

Yet that's thy Accusation, for if I

Divorce thee from me, 'tis for Levity;

Thou hast abus'd my bed, that is, thou hast

Not kept me warm when thou wert overcast:

Transparent Garment, proof against no weather,

Men wonder by what art thou hang'st together;

Nor can the eyes of the best reason pry

[...]nto thy new occult Geometry.

A fellow tother day but cast his Eye-on,

And swore I went mantled in Dandelion:

Another ask'd me, (who was somewhat bolder,)

[...]f I did wear a Love-bag on my shoulder;

fear a fire, as fair Maids the small pox,

And dare not look towards a Tinder-box;

Nor he that sells them up and down I know,

[...]f he come neer it, 'tis but touch and go:

[Page] A red fac'd fellow frights me, though some fear,

That which makes his Nose red, made my Cloak bare;

They say my thick back and thin Cloak appear

Very like powder'd beef and vineger.

Another vow'd (whose tongue had no restriction)

It was no garment, but the Poets fiction.

Did ever man discover such a knack,

To walk in Querpo with a Cloak on's back?

A very zealous Brother did begin

To jeer, and say, Sir! your original sin

Is not wash'd out, (pray do not take it ill)

I see you wear your Fathers figleaf still.

A Schollar (in an elevated thought)

Protested 'twas the web Arachne wrought,

When she contended with Minerva, but

Another Rascal had his finger cut,

And beg'd a piece to wrap about it; thus

You see (kind Cobweb) how they laugh at us:

Good Cambrick Lawn depart, let me not be

For ever, thus fetter'd in Tiffany:

Although I never yet did merit praise,

I'de rather have my shoulders crown'd with Bayes,

Then hung with Cypress, if this fortune be

Alwayes dependent upon Poetry,

I would my kinder destiny would call

Me to be one oth' Clerks of Blackwel Hall;

For though their easie studies are more dull,

Yet what they want in wit, they have in wooll.

Once more farewel, these are no times for thee,

Thick Cloaks are only fit for knavery:

[Page] The only Cloaks that now are most in fashion,

Are Liberty, Religion, Reformation;

All these are fac'd with zeal, and button'd down

With Jewels drop'd from an Imperial Crown:

He that would cloak it in the new translation,

Must have his Taylor cut it Pulpit fashion.

Do not appear within the City, there

They mind not what men are, but what men weare:

The habit speaks the man, how canst thou thrive,

Where a good Cloak's a Representative?

The females will not wear thee, they put on

Such cloaks as do obscure the rising Sun.

How canst thou hope for entertainment, when

Women make cloaks even of Committee men?

Farewel poor Coverwit, upon this Brier

I'le hang thee up, if any do enquire,

Where his brains were, that let his cloak there swing,

Tell them his wits are gone a wooll-gathring.

A Defence for women, in an answer to a vulgar invective.

1

SHall scurrilous pens for ever be free,

Whil'st our just vengeance smothers?

The Balad of Bagnol's and yours may agree,

For I think they are svvorn brothers:

Your fragments of phantsie are cheaper then chaff,

For vvhen in a Tavern ye svvagger and quaff,

So you may but make a fevv drunkards laugh,

You vvill abuse your mothers.

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2

Whil'st you are railing at the Sex,

Your drowsie Muse so drunk is,

That you would give all the ware in your packs,

But to know where a punk is:

You make your addresses to Cloris and Phillis,

Ye say they out-rival the Roses and Lillies,

But when they will not perform what your will is,

You grow as sick as Monkeys.

3

You are so zealous at the fport.

By turns you'l watch an entry,

Some Citizens do curse ye for't,

Who in their shops stand ccntry.

Thus whil'st you range in other mens Parks,

And would have the world look upon you as Sparks

You are but spruce Taylors, and Councellors Clark [...]

For such is our new Gentry.

4

You swagger, as if ye rise from the bed

Where Venus and great Mars lay,

Though against us your poetical head,

Did rhime it so perversly:

Yet with a word to express you in brief,

Many there are which be Ranters in chief,

Who do wear powder'd hair, though they want powder'd bee [...]

Well boyld and stuft with parsly.

[Page]

5

You with your ranting railing words

Do seek our Sex to batter,

Although for wit each head affords

As much as makes no matter;

So patch'd, perfum'd, and painted you be,

Ye look almost as like women as we,

The diff'r [...]nce is only a span above knee,

Which makes your chops to chatter.

6

Here is a toy ty'd to a sword,

Though much he doth not trouble it:

And to vent wit in every word,

His frothy brain doth bubble it,

His pitiful pate with sweet oyl he annoynts,

With rainbow-like-ribbons he tyes up his joynts,

Whose father before did wear blew-leather points,

Brass buttons, and tawny dublet.

7

Here is another Perywig'd youth,

Whose every hair's a fetter.

And he would very fain live forsooth,

With Cribbidg, Dice, and Setter;

He pranks it, and looks like a crow in a gutter,

And though he want bread (a sad story to utter)

His hair hath a breakfa [...]t of Gesemin butter,

A three penny chop were better.

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8

I vvonder vvhat the vvomen find

In these vveak slashing tapers,

That they'l continue to be kind,

Though so abus'd in papers:

Were I as your Mistresses, I vvould trust no man,

They merit contempt for their being so common,

That the best vvord they'l give, is a Pox ô God on'em.

I hate to see such vapers.

9

Religion they have none at all,

For they knovv no such thing,

But that vvhich from full glasses fall,

Directed to their King;

In vvhose cause, they say, th'have had many slashes,

Though povvders, perfumes, sack, musick, and slashes,

Instead of mourning in sackcloth and ashes,

From their devotions spring.

10

Here is another formal Lad

Was Governour of a Tovvn,

Who sayes he hath lost all he had,

By being true toth' Crovvn:

But vvhen he should fight he vvas comeing the Caster,

Which vvas the occasion of many a disaster,

He'l scarce love his Mistris, that nere lov'd his Master,

Let him vvear Svvord or Govvn.

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11

I hope, though you abuse our sex,

The thriving party vvill

Hang large Encomiums 'bout our necks,

For it is knovvn full vvell

By some, that in high places be men,

Who in the Church and State are freemen,

They vvere beholding at first to the zeal of the vvomen.

A doleful tale to tell.

12

Yet never vvoman err'd so much

In this, as did the man,

Whose vvild and frantique zeal vvas such,

Decide it yet none can.

The one vvould keep his old found diddle,

The tother vvas clear against surpless and fiddle,

They fell out like tvvo fools, vvho should ly [...] in the middle.

And so the vvars began.

13

Novv some repent, and some rejoyee,

And some are quite confounded,

But 'tvvixt them both, svvcet Peace's voice,

With drum and trumpets vvounded.

'Gainst Crosses and Crossiers the people did roar,

Until they had beat dovvn proud Babilons Whore,

But its thought they have let in ten thousand more;

'T may be they have compounded.

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14

This jar did make you to ingage

Almost all Christian Nations,

For then was brought upon the Stage

All sorts of sects and fashions.

Ye levied the Scotch, & the Welsh Shon a-Morgans,

And now ye dispute with the Dutch Demigorgons,

The dangerous diffrence 'twixt Bagpipes & Organs,

Did first provoke your passions.

15

Now let your thredbare Poet say,

Which of our worst offences

Can any whit compare with they

That made these blew pretences?

Although ye think women such dull-edged tools,

Your wit, and your reading, your travel, and schools,

Have but made ye the fitter for quarrelling fools,

Or I have lost my sences.

16

Then cease yo [...]r clapper, and give o're,

Let women bear the Bell,

The faults which you commit are more

Then I can write or tell.

I never did know such a surly season,

For nothing is done by Religion or Reason.

Moreover —ds foot, I'de almost spoke treason,

I'le leave off while 'tis well.

A disswasion to a very virtuous Lady, who resolved to be a Nun.

[Page]

REcall this Resolution, or you'l prove

Sinful to God, to Nature, and to Love:

He that did form all creatures for increasing,

Made fruitful Amity the first great blessing.

Why were you made a woman? Why were we

(By different Sex) put in capacity

Of getting Children? you cross Gods decree,

You will live single, God bids multiply:

You wrong the Law of Nature, every thing

Contributes to the store-house of the Spring:

Beasts, Fish, Fowle, Grain, one ear of corn will yeeld

(With husbandry) enough to fill a field:

Were every thing fruitless (as you would be)

You'd eat the walls down of your Nunnery.

But your transgression unto Love is such,

As no man's pen can aggravate too much;

Were those blue veins, red lips, white hands black eys

Made only for a vestal sacrifice?

But you reply, tis to prevent those crimes,

And hot allurements which pollute the times:

Madam, are you so weak, or sin so stout,

That nothing but stone walls can keep it out?

"Vlisses when he fear'd to be imbrae'd

"By Syreus, bound himself to the ship mast;

Because he found his soul so much inclin'd

Unto temptation, did his body bind;

[Page] And is it so vvith you? must you needs run

This tempting race, unless y'have fetters on?

Are Maids so frail, can Virgins find no trick

For chastity, but to be buried quick?

And yet vvhen all this streight prevention's vvrought,

Not all your vvalls, nor bars, can keep out thought:

In my conceipt those hearts have firmest stations,

That can be chast in spite of all temptations:

Chast vvedlock vvas at first design'd, that vve

Might not abuse, but keep our chastity.

You may do so, and yet not live alone,

That vvoman's chast enough that knovvs but one;

Stop your resolve then e're it further runs,

For vertuous vvives are chaster then some Nuns.

Thrones, Annagram, Thornes.

THe late Kings sad distresses, scoffs and scornes,

Have made it manifest that thrones are thornes.

On the late K. departure, 1642.

WHen ill advice hurried the K. from hence,

Vertue vvas held vvith vitious violence.

On his conclusion.

THe ranting rout ruin'd the Royal head,

With a beer boul, a banquet, and a bed.

An Encomium, written in the commendation of red Noses; contriv'd at the request of a friend, and dedicated to all of that Livery.

[Page]

1

FArevvel pale Beauties, you that deal

In chalk and oatmeal, salt and meal,

Which your curral current hinders;

You that feed on loam and cindars,

Parch'd pease, and bisket, till ye vvalk

Like moving figures cut in chalk;

Depart, and give my muse leave to disclose,

The ranting riches of a Rubrick Nose.

2

Give ear to me you scarlet finners,

That svvallovv Seas in Fish-street dinners;

Who deal in gimlets, quills, and favvcets,

Hate morning ca [...]dles, broths, and possets,

And think there may be lesser errings,

In gammous, tongues, and pickled herrings:

You knovv vvhat costly composition goes

To the vvell forming of a right red Nose.

3

My phantsie shall make large defence

Of the red Nose his excellence;

As Pond in's Almanacks doth paint,

It is the tincture of the Saint;

The thriving colour; vvhat a loss

The Dutch have had by George his Cross;

[Page] And can he want of dignity and grace,

That wears the badg of England in his face?

4

Walk i'th' garden, can your nose,

Or eyes chuse better then the Rose?

Look in Cabinets, can you be

Better pleas'd, then with a Ruby?

The flaming Topaz, blazing Stone,

The Garnet, and Vermilion?

Then he that hath a right red nose on's own,

Commands the brightest Jewels of a Crown.

5

If the men of old had chose,

Not by stature, but by Nose;

Their proper Prince, it was most fit,

That the red Nose should carry it;

For then he partly might make good

His title, by the right of bloud:

Yet had they voted it, I much surmize,

Their Noes had been too hard for all their I's.

6

How like a Comet doth he show,

That wears the brightness on his brow?

So leaps the Sun from Thetis bed,

As he from his sublime hogshead

Of rich Canary, when he flings

His healths abroad [...]o Queens and Kings:

Nay more, I'le find in a good fellows Snout,

A banquet of fish, flesh, fowl, wine, and fruit:

[Page]

7

A Crab well boyld, a Salmon raw,

Prawns, Crawfish, and the Lobsters claw;

And for flesh, [...]ere you may spy

The corner of a red Deer Pye,

Pe [...]cks thighs, and Turkyes heads,

Cherries, Strawberries in beds,

Ripe Respas, red cheek'd Codlings, and (for wine)

Claret, Tent, Aligant, and Muscadine.

8

Then let your paler fronts give place

Unto the Royal red nos'd face,

For it contains (without an oath)

Land and Trade, Meat, Drink, and Cloth,

'Tis a Garden, 'tis a Ship,

A Treasury, a Ladies lip:

To leave particulars, and sum up all,

The red [...]ose carries it in General.

A Panegirick, written at the invitation of a Gentleman, who was then going to the Press with a book, entituled, The Praise of Podex.

INgenuous Sir prepare your petty Codex,

For I am come with paper to your Podex,

I have pervs'd your volum, and in it

I find no fragments of a costive wit;

[Page] Your Readers all are ravish'd, each one feels,

These liquid labours issue down the heels

Of apprehension, nay I dare be bold

To say, each line shews like a chain of gold

On Satten shoulders, bright as his (I think)

The letters of whose name do yeeld A STINK:

That popular Physitian Doctor B.

Who proudly told me he hates Poetry;

Should I but bring him such sweet lines as these,

Would lay by Galen and Hypocrates,

To read my rhimes, vvhose povverful Energy

Exceeds his Salt, Sulphur and Mercury:

For he that views them w [...]ll, cannot forbear,

To think he hath a Clister pipe in's ear:

'Tis Podex that vve praise, the Theam hath been

Very much handled, but thus I begin;

Podex is Master of Arts, and is, I see

Of late, so vers'd in Lay Divinity,

That he hath subtilly wrought his sliding joynts,

From Hooks and Eyes, to Fundamental Points:

Babilons Baggage, and the Taylors stitches,

Have sown such strife, that Podex wears the breeches▪

Podex in study of the Law ascends,

And will have most of it at's fingers ends

'Tis thought within this twelfmoneth, but the ills

He fears is, that the copious Chancery Bills

Will grow too small, by which he understands,

He shall not deal in-justice vvith both hands:

Much may be said of him, though some do vent,

Mischievous words in his disparagement:

[Page] They say he's company for Whores, and Gluttons,

And that the best on's kindred now make Battons.

I know not what they mean, I'le keep below decks,

Least I (as one of late) do lose my Podex;

Tis thought that many men have been undone,

Only by Podex and his hangers on.

Some think he is a Coward 'cause they find,

When men are fighting, he still keeps behind;

They are deceiv'd, he best maintains the fray,

When as his face is turn'd another way.

Some carp at his descent, and say that he

Hath his Extraction from low Pedigree;

Because in latter times he hath been able,

To rise from Coblers stall to Councel table:

They envy at his Greatness, but 'tis well

Known to the Wise, Podex doth so excell,

That give him but some Grains to mend his weight,

And he may fully fill a Chair of State.

Many men mutter many things, some say,

It is not fit that he should live a day:

This man would have him crush'd, and that man crownd▪

Another sayes Podex shall kiss the ground;

A fourth swears dam him, if he had a broad axe,

And time, and place, he would dismember Podex:

But Ladyes to your feathered fingers I

Commit soft Podex for security;

You love him for the worth that is about him,

And cannot go to pluck a Rose without him:

You like him at your Boards, and in your Beds,

He bears the Keys of all your Maiden-heads.

[Page] Though you were made the Mint of Mankind, yet

Tis lovely Podex hath the Stamp of it:

Then use him gently, do not overthrow him,

And, when you please, present him with this Poem.

On Filcher.

FIlcher reports that he's a Lawyer grown,

And he sayes true, but 'tis a High-way one.

On Silence.

THe liberal Lips are liable to wrong,

If you would hold your peace, pray hold your tongue.

On Chat's Wife.

CHat's Wife in speaking many tongues is known,

If he had mine, he'd find enough of one.

An Apologie for Danceing, Dedicate to all the active Proficients, but more peculiarly unto Mr. R. L.

[Page]

MY Muse, which fornerly was wont to prize

Ladies fair hands, white necks, red lips, black eyes;

Flyes with reformed wings and (as its meet)

Layes by the head to magnifie the Feet:

The subject of this half hours thought shall be

On dancing's regular Activity:

And it is fit this Quality shouid be

Exalted with the feet of Poetry:

For Schollars when their flameing souls advance

To write a Poem, all their spirits dance:

First I will tell you what the essential part

Of Danceing is, and then, Have at the Art:

It is an Act, if rightly understood,

Consisting of three parts, Time, Tune, and Mood;

Time limits, Tune doth regulate, the vigor

Of Mood, doth aptly form posture, and figure:

Thus are the parts distinguish'd, I shall next

Give you a Comment on this tempting Text

In orderly Gradations, not by leaps,

But soberly ascend to it by steps.

What can be more allicient then to see

Men move with mathematique majesty?

Whose glyding feet so press the buxom earth

As if their Motion gave the Musique birth.

[Page] Where not alone the foot, but head, arm, thigh

Contribute to compleat the harmony;

It is a fit of order where our eyes,

Have glimpses of the Spheres Rotundities:

'Tis Musick to the sight, a swift and sweet

Concord of spirits; Language of the feet,

It moves the soul with such secret devotion,

That it compels the standers by to motion:

All creatures since the world (at first did start

From Chaos) are presented by this Art:

In motion or in station, look upon,

The active glory of the rising Sun;

Where time and tune do both (at once) confine

His flameing feet along th' Ecliptique line;

Exactly to a minute, some will say,

He danceth to, upon an Easter day.

The Moon doth more then he, for (like our Apes,

In Antiques) she appears in several shapes;

Whilst round about her, (by divine command)

In figure all the Constellations stand:

And he that will on Plinies volum call,

Shall finde much order in each Animal.

The whole Creation is a Dance, where men

Rise, walk, turn, side so to their seats agen.

An Army is a Dance, where (though an Ocean,

Of mingled men) they measure all their motion;

Who (as the trumpets sound, or drums do beat)

Lead up, that is, March on, Fall back, Retreat:

But if it chance they by the Foe are foyld,

They'r all disfigured, and the dance is spoyld.

[Page] A Common-w [...]alth's a Dance, (mark it) Her's one

Leads up quick time, and doth as fast fall down:

This subtil fellow sides, and that is found,

(Or rather lost) to be still turning round:

But leaving these at each hand, in the middle

A man whose feet keep time to Fortune's Fiddle:

With a Coranto pace, the rest surprizes,

Sets best [...]leg forward, makes a chase and rises:

I could enlarge upon it, but I must

In Dancing's use and the abuse be just;

In modest men, and virtuous women this

Cannot conduce to any thing amiss:

Besides, some Dances and some Dancers be

So grave, they move like a solemnity;

Rather then such as titilate the bloud,

With any Appetite that is not good:

The true intent of dancing to me seems,

Only an Artful perfecting the Limbes

In gracious postures, such as Nature would,

Her self have brought to pass if that she could

This Art is necessary, if it were,

Only to make the Feet familiar

To walk the streets with hansomness, or come,

With civil motion to a strangers Room:

But (in a word) these active Recreations

Are antient, good, and practiz'd by all Nations:

Th' abuses are, where persons void of fame

And full of lnst, use this to feed the flame:

What's this to th' Art? the Spider and the Bee

Extract, by one rule of Phylosophy:

[Page] And that which is an ornament in one,

May in another breed destruction:

I fear that Scripture phrase, where mischief's hid,

Hath done more hurt then ever dancing did:

All things may be corrupted, meat, drink, health;

The Seat of Justice, an whole Commonwealth:

If it be so, then I may boldly say,

That Danceing is as innocent as they.

An Epitaph in an Acrostick, on the Name of his worthy Friend THOMAS MILWARD Gent. whose face (by general conception) was very like the late King.

Though men from Law, Love, Loyalty, do fall,

Here lies a Cabinet contain'd them all;

One in whose unconfined soul did dwell

More worth then I can write, or thou canst tell:

A man of merits, he that further dives,

Shall find he had all in superlatives.

Much of that mans dear feature he had on,

In whose late loss so many are undone;

Loyal in love he was, though strangely crost,

With some who had just cause to prize him most;

A man more full of faith [...]nto his friends

Remains not upon earth, without self ends:

Died, and lived well, of whom my Muse thus sing

He was a Copy of the best of Kings.

§

§

[Page]

To his worthy friend Mr. THO. JORDAN.

SIR,

SInce you pleased, not only to accept, but to allow my last your commendation, I have adventur'd once more to command my M [...]se to give you a visit, and in that visit to present his respects to you, who is desirous of the title of your friend (to which let experience add the epithete of faithful)

HEN. STONESTREET.

To Mr. T. J. on his Poems.

MUch like a Pris'ner, that hath long time lay

In darksome Cells, without a glimps of day,

Dazled at first approach into the light,

Can scarce distinguish wher't be day or night;

So my abused Muse too long confin'd

To silence, by my negligence grew blind:

Her opticks are so weak, she can't discry

(Without her Spectacles) true Poetry:

Yet (thanks to great Apollo) she retains

A love of those that write Poetick strains;

She loves the name of Poet, though she be

Unskilful in the Art of Poesie:

She loves the company of those that write

Well-polisht verses, though she [...]an't indite:

Such as whose wits t' illustrate all their theams

Fetch Pearls from th' depth of Heliconian streams:

[Page] This makes me hope they'l thrive, because desire

Is th' only way to gain Poetick fire;

And if by your good favour she obtain

More strength, that grace shan't be receiv'd in vain;

For she hath vow'd if e're such glorious rayes

Inlighten her to eccho forth your praise.

§

§

To the much honored HEN. STONESTREET Gent. on London Bridg.

SIR,

I received from the innocent hand of your immaculate Muse such a salute, as would invite a late sick man to be in love with visitations; you do very aptly say, that you bave commanded your Muse to present it, for (without flattery) I find you have no less command of the whole Quire, then of

Sir,

your servant, THO. JORDAN.

To Mr. H. S. in answer of his ingenious Poem.

NOt much unlike that Captive which we see

Fetter'd with favours, chain'd with charity:

Do I appear, your candid contribution

(Mysteriously) designs my deminution:

Your love doth over-lay me, I shall die,

(If you persist) not knowing how or why:

[Page] Your Poems make me lose my apprehension,

And soar above the sence of my ascention:

But why (dear Stonestreet) do you thus confine

In your own Cabinet the noble Nine?

What have the Virgins done, that they must be

Compress'd with such divine captivity?

You are more strict then Statesmen, they that sit

At Westminster will not sequester wit:

But I repent this rudeness, and think rather

You do secure them like a Foster-father:

From ignorant pretenders, or from those

That wrong the Laws of God and man in Proes:

That (nameless) number, which more evil do,

Then man can think, or hell can look into:

You have done well in't, may the Muses be

Fertil, as is your own fidelity:

Whil'st I justly declare (if you go on)

That London Bridg stands over Helicon.

On a Cavalier.

A Cavalier did in an high-way theft,

Lose one of's arms, but his right hand was left.

Slut (the Annagram) Lust.

SLoth needs must be a wrong to female Fame

Since Slut and Lust lodg in one Annagram:

But this you may conclude, if Sloth do hurt you

To be a busie body is a vertue.

An Aerostical Eulogy composed on the name of his much respected Coz [...]n M. FRANCIS JORDAN of Ensham, in the County of Oxon.

[Page]

From fair pretending in unfaithful friends,

Innocent looks that hide injurious ends;

Religious Traytors, which two faces hold,

One of Divinity, t'other of Gold:

Armies of such as do with one accord

Ruine Religion, to advance Gods Word.

New Reformation, in an oath that stands

Diameter to all which God commands;

Conjealing Winters, and contagious Summers,

All such Divines as deal in Guns and Drummers,

Intemp'rate feasts, false women, and bad wine,

Neutrality in things that are divine;

Secret Consumptions, and such deeds as do

Wast wealth and wit, Good Lord deliver you.

A Comparison.

QUick-wit reports, that his wild Brother Randle

Hath lov'd a Whore, as a Moth loves a Candle.

On Lay-Elders.

ARe Elders (now) so vertuous in their wayes?

They were not found so in Susanna's dayes.

An Elegy and Epitaph on the death of the right worshipful SIR NATH. BRENT KNIGHT, Doctor of Law, and Iudg of the Pr [...]rogative Court, who exchanged this present life in the year 1653.

[Page]

DRy eyes depart, all that come hither shall

Not go, but flow unto our Funeral:

This Mare mortuum admits of none

But such a Fleet, whose sails with sighs are blown.

If any Merchant hath by war and weather,

Lost both his ship, and lading, bring him hither:

That Proselite which our Religion bears,

Must learn from us not to drop Beads, but tears:

We hate Disputers, they are of our Ranks,

Whose Maxims are to suffer and give thanks.

Our sorrows do not with that man accord,

Whose point of doctrine is upon his sword:

Therefore no States-man comes, unless he con'd

Vent as much water, as he hath drawn bloud;

His Donatives are too severely dealt,

That wears the Key of heaven at his Belt;

And not for our Society, the loss

We have sustain'd, allows of no such dross:

We have inter'd a man, whose firtil name

Enrich'd his Title, and gave Spurs to Fame,

Whose noble well-weigh'd actions might impart

New rules unto the Mathematique Art.

[Page] One whose Religion never understood

How to gain heaven by the right of blood;

Who thought no man more desperate then he

That could not bless and love his enemy;

That to be courteous only to our friends,

Is but the subtil issue of self-ends:

He was a man, whose wide extended store

Gave thankful invitations to the poor;

Who nere thought that mans charity profound,

That dol'd a farthing from a thousand pound;

One whose essential vertues did out-vy

A zealot in his best formality;

His meanest acts (in every mans esteem)

Did shine more bright then other men could seem:

The perfect'st Hieroglyphick of all good,

That hath (of late) been mix'd with flesh and blood,

More real merit in his soul did lye,

Then any Metaphor can magnifie.

Good Readers let our eyes perswade your ears,

And what we want in tongues, take out in tears.

The Epitaph.

REader, canst thou weep to see

The loss of Law and Piety?

Hadst thou rather meet thy death,

Then have learning out of breath?

Will thy eyes confess thy grief,

To view vertue, want relief?

[Page] Would'st thou let thy fountain run,

If thy Country were undone?

Can thy tears proclaim a tide,

To see Gospel crucified?

Will thy holy eyes wear mourning,

When thou seest the Church a burning?

If th'ast wep'd for any thing

Since bold Rebels kill'd the King

Of our Salvation, (Iesus Christ)

Weep now, or none will when thou diest;

For underneath this stone there lyes,

A subject for all mourning eyes.

An Epitaph on a good wife.

HEre lies a soul that lov'd her Savionr Christ,

Her parents, partner, paterns, Prince, and Priest.

A Similc on a fine Whore.

AN Whore is like a Squirril, that doth vail,

And cover all her body with her tail.

To his faithful ingenuous friend and old acquaintance, J. T. Gent.

FRiend (in that firtil title, I dispence

To thee (at once) both love and reverence)

I do salute thee, what I now hold forth,

Is a pale prospect of thy pregnant worth,

[Page] Trick'd with a pensil of less worth then will,

And drawn by one who hath more love then skill:

The Sun hath twenty Summers strew'd the earth

With flowers, since our Acquaintance first took birth:

It vvas a season vvhen our Drums and Flutes

Did give precedency to Love and Lutes:

When men by Piety vvere so restrain'd,

They durst not think a K. could be Arraign'd:

Plays vvere in fashion too, they did not fear,

To have their plots brought to the Theater:

The big-look'd Hector-like Bravado's then

(That liv'd on Whores, and Country Gentlemen)

Were call'd the Blades, great Colonels did use

To vvear blevv Frocks, and cobble Porters shoes:

Ere Austin vvas put dovvn, and Burton Sainted,

(Thanks to my destiny) vve vvere acquainted;

Since then (I have observ'd) this annual Race

Hath put no vvrinkles on thy soul or face:

Thy look, thy language, and thy mind are svveet

Correlatives, and in one Consort meet;

Thy active spirit, and thy form complies,

To captivate mens hearts, and womenseyes:

Thy face speaks Rhetorick, and no persvvasion

Wins credit vvhere thy person makes invasion:

Thy Pen and Languages could not miscarry,

Wer't thou the greatest Princes Secretary:

Thy Poetry vvould make great Orpheus leese

His Lyre, and dance a part vvith his ovvn trees;

That thon art valiant, he doth better knovv,

Whom his ill destiny hath made thy foe:

[Page] I should inlarge my felf in this Narration,

But that I find great volums out of fashion;

Besides, vvhen I conceive I have sum'd all,

I may omit some main material;

Yet hovvsoe're these rugged lines are pen'd,

No man is more your servant, then

Your Friend, THO. JORDAN.

On a crooked Scold.

SCorta (a Quean, no Fish-wife could out-scold her,

Who wore cross natures Pack upon her shoulder)

Fell out with Clinch, and gave him vvorser vvords

Then Billinsgate (in Mackrell time) affords;

At vvhich he cryes (seeing it vain to prate)

Ye cursed crooked Whore, I'le kick you strait.

On Rant.

RAnt is (they say) indicted for a vvit,

To which he pleads not Guilty, and is quit.

A Mock Epithalamium, composed for the Nupti [...]ls of an illiterate Brewer and his Bride.

THese Nuptial flowers the fair Maids are strewing,

I am inform'd has been long time a brevving;

Make hast to Church, good Fortune be your guide,

Till you out-gallop all that Rhime to Ride.

[Page] The love that lurks within your amorous holes,

Is not false fire, but Gods precious coles,

Which will, if no ill in undation hinders,

Shine bright, till all the world consume in cynders;

May both your hands and hearts joyn all in one,

Happy conjunction, like the Bolt and Tun:

May the Bride draw your favour with more force

Of fierce affection then your Draymans horse:

(For Cupide coursers triumph on the ground,

When two well yoked Lovers are shod round)

Prove faithful to each other, let no stranger

(With fair pretence) lye at Loves rack and manger:

May the Brides bosome be the Bridegrooms charm,

Until her belly do rebound like Barm,

That when your liquid limbs together curl,

You may dissolve, and intermix like Purl;

So may the pregnant Port of pleasure prove

The firtil furnace of inflaming Love;

And you shall yearly reap the fruitful crops

Of children multiply'd as thick as hops;

Which issuing from Loves bed of fragrant spice,

May well be call'd the grains of Paradise:

May these wars die, and they that first begot 'um,

That every tub may stand upon's own bottom:

May your trade thrive, may no Excize man thvvart

Your private guile, or set a Spoke i' your Cart:

If you or she have done amiss, I pray

Let this conjunction prove a cleansing day:

For they vvho to a married bondage stoop,

Must be consined in the holy hoop.

[Page] May your fair bedfellow live above strife,

And overflourish the Inkeepers wife:

Although her husband can outface your Copper,

She shall both in the Church and State o're top her:

Because there is (now Idols are put down)

Small distance 'twixt the Copper and the Crown.

An Epithalamium, on the noble Nuptials of Mr. WILL. CHRISTMAS Merchant, and Mis. ELIZABETH CHRISTMAS.

STay! take my benediction e're you go,

Tis Orthodox, Poets are Prophets to:

Nor do I doubt but my Cromatick Ayrs

Have as large Pinions as the Parsons prayers:

May that felicity whose sweetness swells

In Solomons transcendent Canticles.

Attend these Nuptials, may your union bo

The great Elixir of all sympathy:

May Doves be your Disciples, and from you

Not only learn to love, but to be true:

The active Sparrow which with amorous tread,

Makes of one Creature wife and feather bed;

Will watch your windows, & in neighb'ring willow [...]

Declare the doctrine of your panting pillows:

You shall teach all things Love, Ovid was wont

To shew the Art, you know the nature on't.

But stay, methinks the Bride begins to be

Disturb'd at loss of her Virginity;

She views the Bed, and Bridegroom as they were

The Scaffold, and the Executioner.

[Page] Madam depress those fears, what greater joy

Then lose a Maiden-head to win a Boy?

A prety boy, as sweet and like the mother,

As one of her bright eyes compar'd with tother:

May health, wealth, wisdom, piety, and truth,

Support ye in your age, and crown your youth:

May you live free from jealousies and fears

Of forraign fury, or Domestick cares:

May the Catastrophe of both your years

Be the sad object of all good mens tears;

And may your date of death be on the stone

One thousand, seven hundred, thirty one.

A Fable.

THey say that in a neighb'ring Aviary

The birds fell out, the Aegle did miscarry;

That was their K. but strait the factious flock

Did chuse a new, and crown'd a Turkey Cock.

The Moral.

THis makes the Proverb true unto a letter,

When one is gone, there seldom comes a better.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

Wit in a wildernesse of promiscuous poesie by the author Tho. Jordan.

Jordan, Thomas, 1612?-1685?

Edition statement

1665

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-07 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A46280

ID [STC]

Wing J1072

ID [STC]

ESTC R19732

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

12561420

ID [OCLC]

ocm 12561420

ID [VID]

63225

Availability

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Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A46280)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 63225)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 671:14)

Source

— Wit in a wildernesse of promiscuous poesie by the author Tho. Jordan., Jordan, Thomas, 1612?-1685?.

Extent

[48] p.

Printed by R.A.,. London :: [1665?]. (Reproduction of original in Huntington Library.)

Creation

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