ΓΑΜΗΛΙΑ On the happy marriage of the most accomplished paire, H. R. Esq And the vertuous A. B.
Christus: Lucrum
Veritas in Profundo:
[...]
OXFORD, Printed by L. L. AN. DOM. 1640.
AD SPONSVM AEDES Brumhamianas primò invisentem.
SIste gradum, quavis Juvenis dignissime formâ,
Haec statio erranti est placidissima; pectoris aestū
Hic relevare potes, nec pulchri indagine vultûs
Per varios migres agros, varias (que) per urbes.
Occupet ignarum forsan Brumhamia; in illis
Aedibus alma Venus posuere & castra Cupido.
Hospitium praedulce Deae peregrine subito,
Saucius exibis: Nam quos non vulnerat Anna
Sanguinis antiqui Bayntonia! dives avorum,
Et decor ipsa suis, cunctis praelata puellis;
Et formâ praestans, & primis nubilis annis.
Huic similem quondam servavit ahenea turris,
Aethere cui puro descendit plurimus auro
Jupiter, & fulvus pro munere depluit imber.
Pro love munus erat; plus nostrâ elucet in Annâ;
Plus pro dote feret; siquidem supereminet omnes
Virgineus pudor & divina modestia dotes.
Vreris infaelix? Age, divam ambito puellam,
(Non benè conveniunt aestus in amante, pudorque)
Basia, stulte, petas; nec tantum basia prosunt,
Quantum sola nocent. Peragat facundia causam.
Quam non suasit Amor, fervens & pectoris ardor?
Diva Venus, Venerisque leves faveatis Amores.
Tu quoque casta licet, noli morosa videri,
Et cave ne renuas sortem, quam fata benignam
Insolitò misêre: vagae quot rure puellae,
Jllius (heu!) cupidae quot sperant basia matres
Virginibus cessura suis! Tibi fata dederunt,
Quae reliquis inimica negant; quos sola recusas
Quâlibet amplexus emissent arte puellae.
Ne te difficilem praebe; vix dignior illo
Quisquam nocte tuâ est, nuptae thalamoque pudico.
Vicimus, ô Juvenes, laetas Hymenaeus ad aures
Fertur, & insignis patitur Bayntonia vinci,
Dat quoque victa manum, Veneris jam foedere gaudens.
Oscula nunc repetas pulchris signata labellis,
Oscula blanda dabit, nec quaeras oscula tantùm:
Virginitas jam tota tua est, cùm Cynthia noctem
Speratam tulerit, Sol & se merserit undis.
Phaebus abit; Properes, & dulcia bella capessas,
Collectumque diù cupidus largire vigorem.
J. E.
To the happy Bride-groome.
WHilest we, faire Sir, approaching Winter moane,
And grieve to see our May and Iuly gone:
These gentler Moneths conspire to crowne your fate:
And with joyn'd temper still attend your state.
Hee that enjoyes a Paradise, which yeelds
The Pride of Gardens, flowry Lawnes, and Fields;
Chang'd seasons cannot feele: to him the yeare
'Twixt spring and summer doth throughout appeare.
To the most vertuous Bride A. B.
The Paths of Love are plaine; and we his Darte
Can trace, when it wounds but a common heart.
In you, faire Spouse, the winged Deity
Is Knots and Charmes, Riddle, and Mystery.
1 Tell me, Before what pearled row
Ripe Cherries doe in Autumne grow?
2 What earthly Glories, scatter'd raies
Excell Apollo's haire and Bayes?
3 What Climate in the North breaths forth
Aires, then the Easterne beds more worth?
[Page 4]4 What twin-like starres below doe prove
Light and eclipse to those above?
5 What Snow is that, which is both flame
And frost to him that courts the same?
6 What chast coole Ice hath heate so much,
To melt th'embracer with its touch?
7 What Sun is that, which risen benights
Fresh Summer, set breeds his delights.
Would You unriddle these? in order set
The two first letters of the Alphabet.
T. F.
EN En stellato fulgens Venus aurea coelo
Praeludit Thalamis; & multis lucida flammis,
Faustas promittit taedas noctem (que) benignam.
Vobis (faelices Animae!) post taedia longa
Has sedes sacravit Amor: jam fata potestis
Improba ridere; & vanos contemnere casus.
Sic postquam iratum tranavit navita pontum,
Et fruitur portu, Fortunae oblitus iniquae,
Demulcet Genium; at (que) udis poenè obrutus undis
Ignigenae indulget Baccho, tepido (que) Lyaeo:
Et nondum siccas, expellunt pocula curas.
Ite, agite, ô Juvenes, & vos, castissima turba,
Quae nondum Veneri specula appendistis, honores
Ferte omnes Sponso & Sponsae; lectissima circum
Nectite serta torum, multo (que) è flore corollas:
Hoc templum Veneris, teneri (que) Cupidinis ara.
En ubi casta venit vittis redimita capillos
Victima purpureos, niveo (que) insignis amictu.
Tali Agamemnoniam cultu incessisse puellam
Credibile est, quando formâ commota Diana,
Suppositâ cervâ maestis servabat ab aris.
Turba puellarum, cur non imponitis arae,
(Huic molli lecto) nuptam? ne brachia vincla
Impediant, nec vincla pedes: succumbat Amoris
Victima, sponte suâ. Cur palles sacra puella?
En mystes tibi sponsus erit: tibi vulnera figet,
(Cur iterum formosa times?) at vulnera Amoris.
Mille genis teneris, & mille & mille labellis
At (que) oculis fronti (que) affiget basia, donec
Deliquium patiatur Amor: tunc arctius ulnis
Corpus formosum amplectens, & eburnea colla,
Pectore mulcebit tepido, vires (que) vagantes
Colliget, at (que) novos sensim producet amores.
Adsis sponse sacer: mystes & sponsus: Amoris
Mystes, & sponsus Veneris: solennia sacra
Sunt peragenda tibi; faveat tibi noctis amicae
Longa quies, & serò suos sol dividat ignes,
(Quaerit Amor tenebras & amica silentia noctis.)
Virgine sic tandem oblatâ sacris (que) peractis,
Mane novo innumeram possis praedicere prolem.
P. M.
GOod morning to your chastest loves; the day
Hasts to compleat your joyes: Sol could not stay
One minute longer ere he rose; he fled
The tedious courtships of his Tethys bed
And woo'd Aurora with a gentle smile
That she would ope the day, and so beguile
Night of her due: she blush'd, and straight the hills
Were mantle'd all in red; the wood quire fils
The groves with Musick: th' morne, the groves, and all,
Welcome the comming of loves festivall.
Virgins deflowre the feilds: (you may commit
Rapes on the medows and be Virgins yet.)
Rob Flora's gawdy wardrobe, and o'respread
The way with flowers where the Lovers tread.
This is an honest theft, this, no offence:
To sinne when Love command's is innocence.
This done, the lovers may to th' Temple goe:
The Temple hath a share in Loves rights too.
Religion is the band of loue: we ty
The lovers knot in this solemnity.
The ring's the pledge of love: no other stone
Gives it its price but its owne union.
Blest Couple! (doe I not a sinne commit
To say a couple when this knot is knit?)
This right performed you both victors are,
Conquering each others hearts: each hath a share
In the others love: from the selfe same fire
Both loves receive their warmth: the same desire
Burns in each breast: two bodies thus may be
By one soule mov'd: 'tis Loves Philosophy.
Love hath proclam'd a feast: his courts doe ring
With sweetest Musick; and the Minstrils sing:
The court's inspir'd with mirth: who ever now
Lookes sad and pensiue, or contracts the brow,
Savours of Schisme and faction: he will prove
Not of the court, but family of Love.
Had some decrepite paire enter'd Loves bands
Snowie with age, and joyned palsi'd hands,
Mirth would have bin a mock-show. Jf the Bride
Had chanc'd to smile, you would perhaps have spy'd
Empty unfurnish'd gums: to sing, at best
Had bin to cough in tune: and all the rest
Of Loves solemnities, but only showne
The Bride and Bridegroomes imperfection.
Here both are young: youth dances on their brows;
Fresh and untainted vigour gently flows
Within their veines: hither doth nature bring
The richest tributes of the youthfull spring.
See where the Bride appeares: such Majesty
Did not invest the Cyprian Queen, when shee
Ore' came on th' Phrygian Mounts: or when she strove
With armed Mavors in the field of Love.
Let but her aged parents gently sipp
The balmy sweetnesse of her virgin lipp,
Jt will repaire their age, and straight restore
A fresher spring then ere they had before.
Blest Sr, be happy in your Bride: those armes
Are more effectuall then the strongest charmes:
They will effascinate your soule: but this
Bewitching is unto a future blisse.
Enjoy her, chast, and modest: (there can be
No better dowry then Virginity.)
Chast as the blushing morne, or pearly dew
Which drops from Virgin-Roses; whose faire hue
The Sunne hath not yet courted. Tast the sweet
Due to your wedded soules: it is not meet
That you should now in contemplation move
But try at length the practick part of Love.
Warm'd by each others loves, you may beget
Each night a Cupid and be youthfull yet.
P. M.
SPonsa veni; differs nimìs expectata mariti
Gaudia, quàm pretiosa Tibi dilabitur hora,
Dum nimiùm benè compositis Te vestibus ornas
Tu plus nuda places. Paridis sententia, Palmae
Ipsi nec Veneri victricia serta dedisset,
Si non nudatae. Nimiam sub pectore curam
De cultu retines; non veste ornatior ullâ
Quàm Tali, Qualem Tibi connubialia praestant
Stragula, lodicesquè, sacri velamina lecti.
Undique conspersis sternatur floribus alma
Tellus, & Quicquid calcaverit haec Rosa fiat;
Lilia virgineae dispergite verna puellae,
Hoc agite, & vobis talis precor accidat hora.
Accendas, Hymenaee, faces, facilis (que) vocatus
Ritibus his adsis viridi velatus amictu:
Sisque maritatis florentis nuntius aevi.
Nolo equidem decores humeros velamine flavo;
Zelotypi color iste decet connubia sponsi.
Ast hinc suspicio, procul hinc quo (que) vana facessant
Jurgia, sollicitae procul hinc discedite curae,
Et quicquid violet peramica silentia noctis.
Aequo & perpetuo nexu jungantur Amantes
Turturibus similes; solo hoc discrimine distent,
Nullo cum gemitu, nullo cum murmure vivant.
Rumpe moras Zonam (que) tuam; Quid sponsa moraris?
Pro Zonâ cingat, pulcherrima virgo, mariti
Gratior amplexus; vivusque sit annulus iste,
Quo sua perpetuo firmet connubia nodo.
Teque viro jungas, nec vitis amiciùs ulmo
Haereat, aut plures (opto) ferat illa racemos,
Quam Tu filiolos: parias foecunda Quotannis,
Et geminum parias, longâque propagine, foetum;
Sitque alter Matris, Patrisque sit ectypon alter.
G. W.
COme Hymen haste, and bring thy lights,
And for a while let's know no Nights.
Put thy glad saffron Garment on,
Let all dull sadnesse farre begone,
And sing with Musique by thy side,
Joy to the Bridegroome, and the Bride.
Behold here is a loving Paire,
They both are young, and both are faire,
Thy Torches yet did never see
Brave Youth, and Beauty so agree.
Haste Hymen then to joyne their Hands,
Haste thee and loose their virgin Bands.
What beauty on his cheeke doth shine!
Tis lovely, yet not Faeminine.
Each cheeke endeavours to excell,
And in this Friendly strife doe dwell.
A red in either doth abide,
As if they blush'd at eithers Pride.
In Hers what Modesty doth sit!
The Rose and Lilly there are knit.
From Her snowy spotlesse looke,
The face of Jnnocence was tooke.
Her Lipps in Labour swell, soft Kisses
Th'ofspring are, and sweeter blisses.
Their Friends and Fortunes aequall bee,
Their virtues, and estates agree;
Their Age is too so nigh the same,
That they scarce differ but in Name.
They seeme to mee as if they had
Bin Man and Wife by Birth, not made.
Haste thee Hymen, what dost feare
The threats of this, or t'other shire?
Can Bromham mourne, or Cannington
To see so blest an union!
If to a Gemme, a Gemme you joyne,
The more's the Prize, the more's the shine.
Thou rob'st not this, or t'other place,
But add'st to both a double Grace;
They two being wed, those Townes may be
Partakers of the Mysterie.
Two starres conjoyn'd, both may dispence
To sundry climes their Jnfluence.
The fruitfull vine doth from one Roote,
Diffuse his Moisture round about;
So that the farthest Branch may be
The thickest cluster'd on the tree.
So from the stock may branches grow
To shade those Townes and Countries to.
And now I see 'em joyn'd, the Bells
To list'ning Friends the glad news tells.
Joy sitts on ev'ry brow, each eye
Mov's quick as Heaven with Lollity.
One wedding brings a thousand forth,
For all seeme married unto Mirth.
But see the Sunne how fast he flies
And to his amorous Tethys hies:
How red he blushes, as he were
A sham'd t'have kept the married Paire
From their due joyes so long? Their day
Js night, he cries, so poasts away.
And haste thou, Muse, too, only wish
Each night may prove no worse then this;
Their Love may still encrease, and they
Kisse still as loving as to Day.
The children like the Parents prove,
Some Mars'es, and some Queenes of Love
R. P.
HUc, huc ô Veneres, Cupidines (que),
Huc Nymphae, Charites (que) quotquot estis,
Sed castae Veneres, Cupidines (que)
Sed quales Charites beatis illum,
Sed quales Charites beatis illam,
Huc laeto simul advolate cursu.
Huc & vos properate, grata, Musae,
Turba, & quaelibet induens Thaliam,
Vestros jungite Gratiis lepores.
Illi junctus Hymen choro beabit
Fausto carmine blandulum maritum,
Fausto carmine blandulam maritam.
Haec junget sociâ dies catenâ,
Hugonem juvenum venustiorum,
Et sexûs decus omne mollis Annam.
Ne citum nimis urgeas Phlegonta,
Currum qui regis arbiter diei;
Cedas seriùs at nigrae sorori,
Festi gaudia protrahens amaeni.
Atat, gnavus & impiger maritus
Lento irascitur, invidet (que) Phaebo.
Sponsi gaudia plena quid moramur?
Et quid vota novae modesta sponsae;
Amplexus (que) pios, sed & ruborem:
Sincera oscula, sed simul timorem:
Et quae dat genialis ille lectus,
Blanda & Cypridos incruenta bella?
Ah pigros nimis urgeas caballos,
Currum qui regis arbiter diei;
Da furvae citiùs locum sorori;
Nec sedem priùs occupa relictam,
Donec officiosa turba amici,
Inter brachia molliora sponsi
Nuptam corripiant novam, relicto
Nuper nomine virginis rubentem.
AN ECLOGUE.
Coridon, Alexis.
Cor.
Hoe Alexis, gentle swaine
Turne a litle back againe.
Whether run'st thou with such speed,
Whil'st thy flocks neglected feed?
Alex.
[Page 15]Hast, Coridon, make hast away
This is Sheep-heards holyday.
Seest thou how the glad swaines runne
With each an acclamation
Of joy, and pleasure, to betide
The happy Bridegroome, and his Bride?
Cor.
Courteous Sheepe-heard read to me,
Whose is this solemnity?
Alex.
Wot'st thou not how Brumham's pride
(Happy Virgin, happier Bride!)
Pan's eldest Nymph, and nearest care,
Wedds Sylvanus sonne and heire?
Cor.
Shee? the glory of these plaines,
Whose beauty so bewitch'd the swaines
And in her fond admirers strooke,
Amazement with each gracefull looke?
Shee whose every accent might,
Charme with wonder, and delight;
And challenge in harmonious measure
Syrinx, Pan's transformed pleasure?
Who when her eye shee doth advance
Conquers a heart with every glance?
Shee who made the amorous boyes,
To esteeme no other joyes;
But neglect their flocks to fold,
While her eyes they might behold;
And not mind the swift-pac'd Day,
[Page 16]Gazing on a brighter ray?
Whose amorous and awfull eye,
Moves with such tempting modesty,
At once t'would kindle a loose flame,
And check it? Is't not Shee?
Alex.
The same
Yet all this beauty now is wonne,
By the Swaine of Cannington:
Then whom Phoebus yet hath spied
Nothing fairer, but his Bride.
One in whose ennobled brest
Vertue's selfe hath chose to rest.
True in heart, and strong in tongue;
Wonder, in a swaine so young!
Nothing Noble, nothing faire,
Lacks to make a perfect paire.
Cor.
Joyne we then, and let our love
Call for more blessings from above
On this rich couple. Send them downe
Every Deity a Crowne.
Alex.
Pallas wisdome.
Cor.
Juno treasure.
Alex.
Hebe youth.
Cor.
And Venus pleasure.
Alex.
Bacchus and Apollo joyne,
To make this a fruitfull vine.
Cor.
Hymen with thy brighter flame
Quite expell all cause of blame.
Farre hence vaine jealousy be set,
Where youth and beauty so are met.
Alex.
[Page 17]That so thir numerous joyes may ne're decrease,
Each being others greatest happinesse.
T. P.
ECLOGUE.
Damon. Cloris.
Dam.
COme, Cloris, let us hast away,
Wee must all now keepe holiday.
Thirsill to day must Coelia wed,
Pan will enjoy him in his Bed.
Clo.
The newes is welcome, such a paire,
So young so handsome and so faire
Arcadia yeelds not, what a face
Doth the gentle Coelia grace!
How did shee Captivate the Swaines
That ever saw her on the Plaines!
What Garlands would this Sheep-heard bring,
What Roundelaies that other sing!
That scarce a Pipe was heard to play
Vnlesse in praise of Coelia!
Dam.
And, Cloris, Thirsil is a Lad,
That in as great esteeme is had,
What Sheep-heardesse on all the greene
[Page 18]Hath not Thirsills lover beene?
Pretty Daphnis oft would make,
Garlands, and Posies for his sake,
And oft in flowers his name would set,
And weare it in her Coronet,
And then shee'd vow that his name lent,
The flowers their colour, and their sent.
Phyllis too did often send,
Tokens to him, as her friend,
Shee wrought him Handkerchiefs, which shee
Conveid unto him privily,
And if at any time he chanc'd
To use them when hee publike danc'd,
Phyllis then was happy made,
And ample recompences had.
What shifts would Amarillis frame,
If shee but heard of Thirsills name!
Shee'd drive her flocks to his, and sweare
They better fed, because so neare.
His eyes shee'd call those heavenly showers,
That deck the earth with grasse, and flowers,
And twas no mar'le since shee did view,
How in his cheeks sweet Roses grew,
Shee call'd his face a Flowery May,
His eye a never falling day:
If that he, but a piping were,
Sheed cal't the musicke of the Spheare.
Clo.
[Page 19]Oh Damon thou thy selfe canst say,
How Coelia doth both sing and play,
How all the youngsters of the plaines,
Are ravisht with her curious straines.
How when she sings her Flock will looke
As with admiration strooke,
They leave of grasing straight to heare,
And only then doe feed the eare.
Some stand stone still, as if afraid
To disturbe the beauteous Maide.
But others friske it here and there,
Dancing to the Tunes they heare.
Whil'st all the Sheepheardesses yeeld
To her the honour of the field.
Dam.
Then Cloris they are happy met.
Clo.
They're like a Rose to a Rose set.
Like two bright starres they doe appeare,
Both are faire, and both are cleare.
Sol with bright Venus doth conjoyne,
Beauty, and Majesty combine.
Pan crowne their wishes, may they be
Not happy, but foelicity.
A. S.
WHat strange sound's this! an invocation
Of Cupid, Hymen, Love, Peace, Vnion!
'Tis well some yet agree; for by those Gods
J thought that all the World had been at odds.
And didst thou say a Wedding? ist not, Friend,
A Tournament these Families intend?
Or more vast quarrell, such as threats our Land?
Looke, yon's as brave a troope as th' Royall band.
But hence all terrors, since J well discry,
Here's nought intended but a blest supply
Against both warres, and sicknesses: hopes yet,
Since though we cannot save, wee may beget:
He that gave Angells Immortality,
Jn liew of that, did bid Man, Multiply.
By what name shall I saint these houres? some say
Tis not so much a Nuptiall, as Birth-day.
Since Parents, Friends, each one this day begins
To acknowledge him, that was borne single, Twins:
And yet I feare we have err'd grossely who
Doe stile these Twins; They are not so much two;
But shall become, ere these ten Moones be gone,
Incorporate one Babe, one Little-one.
Of that compleat, and perfect Vnity,
All you boast yet, is but as Prophecie;
Your Loves, as ring, are types, that the Church will'd,
But Progeny is Marriage fulfill'd.
Nature expects this from you, as her meed;
Then for your birth you thanke her, with your breed.
R. P.
FIdlers, goe breake your strings, more musick lies
Jn the Brides mirth, then your harsh melodies.
Dancers, be you gone too, her panting hart
Keepes truer musick-time, then all your art.
And what needs these strew'd flowr's? if for their sent,
Her breath Arabian spices doth present!
But if the colour please your eye, why see
A blushing rose in each cheeks modesty.
Your junkets too are uselesse, for each guest
Findes in the Bride a most delicious feast.
Hymen put out thy torch; though love's a fire,
Yet darknesse, and not light is his desire.
But if againe you would revive the Sun
Let the Bride ope an eye, and straight 'tis done.
Thus happy Bridegroome you enjoy in one
A wife, and wedding preparation.
How will the Hinds of Somerset, glad Swains,
Run hobling with their welcomes o're the plains,
When Canington shall turne loves paradice,
With the wisht presence of your beauteous prize?
They'l leave their harvest thougb it shine; the plow
The flayle, and all shall lye neglected now;
And to a bag-pipe, whistle, single Kitt,
Lift up their heeles 'till they the Seiling hit:
Scraping such welcomes that your hall will bee
Turn'd fallow with their Gamboll jolitye.
As if their plowing shooes would there foretell,
The plenteous viands which againe shall swell
Your full crown'd tables, equalling that store
Your Fathers charity us'd spend before.
Your flourishing age doth prophecy their mirth
Shall yearly be renew'd with a faire birth.
Such hopes are dasht, when youth mungrels it's blood
With a rich three-score ore-worne Widdow-hood.
Where the not pleasant, but most reverend bride
Lies like a Sybill by her husbands side,
Who kisseth her with such devotion,
As Anch'rites doe some Relique, or Saints bone.
But heer's no wrinkles, save what Venus hurles
On her faire brow, when it with smiles she curles.
These strict embraces teach the fruitfull vine,
And shew the honyedwood-bine, to entwine.
Like two perfumes mixt may they know no strife,
But to infuse in a third Odour, life.
G. K.
On the happy Marriage of H. R. and A. B. masked under the names of ASTROPHIL and CHARILLIS.
YOu Virgins that did ne're yet prove
The power and sweet effects of love:
And yet faine would learners be,
J'th' chast and naturall mistery.
Goe not to your wanton vine
'Tis not love she doth define
But loves errour, see her Top,
Makes use of every Neighbour prop:
And rather then shee'l lye alone
Sheele loosely mingle with her own.
The Jvy too as well doth twine
About the Elme as lofty Pine,
If shee has store shee doth not care
How crooked and deform'd they are.
Such love as this though typ'd by trees
Is practis'd by those looser shees,
Whose dotage thinks all ware will passe,
If veil'd with loves diviner glasse.
Her true complexion wouldst thou see,
Such as is not Heresy,
Whose unmixt and cleaner fires
Owe their birth to such desires,
As a Hermite may admit,
Or a frozen Anchorite:
Let Astrophil thy Tutor be,
Or Charillis chastity.
Who to each Virgin breast shall prove▪
Not lovers but the Art of love.
Which having learnt and that you bee
Proficients in the mystery;
At your Tutors Bridall day,
Every Virgin sing a Lay:
And as sacrifices bring
The pride and glory of the spring.
Lillies, Daffadills, and Posies
Of the blushing Damaske Roses,
Primroses and other flowres
To bedeck the Wedding bowres.
Chaplets fresh, both white and greene,
Such as fit Loves, King and Queene.
Since to each Virgin breast they'le prove,
Not Lovers but the Art of Love.
That done with soft and dutious feet
At Brumham house together meet:
Where if the Bride (as innocent
As if there were no marriage meant)
You find asleep, each one may sip
The balmy Nectar of her Lip,
Which treasure up, for it will be
The best preserve for Chastity.
Then with voyce as soft and still
As Zeph'rus, whisper Astrophill.
At which word, as at the Bell
Which rings a Dirge or Matins Knell,
Rise the chast and watchfull Nunes,
Shee'le disclose her clowded Sunnes:
Which having seene you boldly may
Tell the world 'tis breake of day.
Then with no unseemly rimes,
As are usuall at such times
'Mongst loose Madames of the Court,
Make immodesty a sport.
But with hearts as pure and free
From bad thoughts as Martyrs be
When they laughing court the stake,
Finer try your charge to make.
Which nor sad, nor froward doe,
You may be chast and merry too.
Each virgin to her selfe may say
That I had such a wedding day!
Having bound her flaxen tresses
And put on the choyce of dresses,
To her Love that all this while
With a sweet and unforc't smile
Doe's expect in one soft kisse
To give and take an unpriz'd blisse,
You must deliver your rich store
Both the Indies boast not more.
And like learners watchfull stand
At the Bride and Bride-groome's hand.
Since to each Virgin Breast they'l prove
Not Lovers but the Art of Love.
Next, when as their lipps have showne
Their soules more Constant Ʋnion;
And the God of Marriage stands,
With Virgin-Tapers in his hands,
Which he lately lighted by,
His or her refulgent eye,
Then I say, the Virgin crew
Of Brumham Nymphs know what to doe.
And the swaynes of Buckington,
Lacok, Chalne, and Heddington,
Pleasant Bremble, where the fleet
And parted streames of Avon meet,
Wait the Bride and Bridegroomes Nodds
Like that troupe of lesser Gods
That once met on Phlaegras greene
To attend Heavens King and Queene.
And the Birds who chirping say
This shall be your Bishops day,
From your cheerefull hollow throates,
Strive to drowne the Minstrells notes.
See they come, what light is here!
Phoebus is out-shone I sweare,
And for shame behind a cloud
His fainting conquer'd beames doth shrowd.
Tell me Virgins have you seen
On the Spye or Wansditch green
Such a lovely well-shapd Creature?
Or e're dream'd of such a feature?
For I know your dreames suggest
What doth please your fancies best,
Browne his hayre is, which doth shew
The owner of't is trusty too.
Proper as the lofty Pine
Or the trees of Apennine.
Strait as straightest lines of Art,
Or those beames the Sunne doth dart,
When no thicke or clowdy dayes
Doe refract or breake his rayes.
Would you have me to expresse
In a word all comelinesse
That nothing may be said beside,
Hee's as beauteous as his Bride.
And with her there's no compare,
Venus selfe is not so faire.
Shee ha's goodly eyes 'tis true,
So has bright Charillis too.
Venus forehead thoug't be high
Js not white as Jvory.
When Charillisses I know
Whiter is then falling snow
Whose sudden, chast, and spotlesse birth
Never mingled yet with earth.
Her Lipps—but oh J cant'runne o're
All the parts of her rich store,
Hymens torch burnes all this while,
And the Bride and Bridegroomes smile
Gently chides at my delay,
But they shall no longer stay.
Virgins o'pe the Temple gates
Where the Priest and people waites
Each as jocound as if they,
Saw and had this Bridall Day:
Now with fervour joyne your hands
As in love so Hymens bands.
While my humble muse retires
Seldome warm'd at such bright fires
And betakes it selfe agen
To it's blunt and usuall Pen.
And if e're J chance to woe,
Beauteous payre, Ile thinke of you.
Since to all Virgin Breasts you prove
Not Lovers but the Art of Love.
G. B.
HAnds joyned? 'Twas never Better: see
They shadow out some Majesty!
'Tis this stately Posture crownes
Kings and Queenes Ambitions:
For to make sure his mystique Bands
Hymen tyes one knot of Hands.
Here, Great Love, thou hast a Paire
More soft then purest Kidd, more Faire:
Which doe lend the Gloves they weare
Perfume, beyond the Millainer.
And where can Rich Sents breathing lye
Fitter then in such Jvory?
Then Happy Sir, the common voice
Must needs commend You and Your choice,
Who are so vertuous, so Best
You will ev'n consecrate your Priest.
Come then from Church, There's other Rites
Wait to accumulate Your delights.
View the Board and see what fare
The Houshold Goddesse can prepare!
For now I can't believe Lar will
Live a Batchelour-God still.
But hence warming her desires
Vesta too kindles New fires.
Strike up All in midst o'th Feast,
Let Mirth enliven every Guest:
Ceres Ladyship shall dance
Attendance, and His Plumpnesse praunce
That's Bacchus hight, for let me see
To Daunce is Wines chiefe Quality.
So we the Guests have what to doe,
Till the Roome seemes to dance round too.
Then sadly take our leave, The Year
Yields few such dayes in's Kalender.
Such a Night I me sure 't can't yield,
Till Platoes dreame shall be fulfill'd.
When in the same blessed place
You shall repeat the same Embrace.
And, but the Diamonds sparkling Eye
None present at Loves mystery.
Then shall you boast that you have twice
Breath'd Indies, and dream't Paradice.
And recounted of your blisses
The second Chiliad of Kisses.
So your successive Love shall no End see;
For Time Repeated is Eternity.
I. G.
FAire Ones, how will you pacify
The litle angerd Deity?
Whose Altars none will after dare
T' approach with sacrifice, which are
Lesse then Perfection's selfe; then how
Will he find votaries enough?
His Temples will turne Groves, and these
Perhaps of fatall Cypresse trees.
Expect you not hee'l make retire
With's leaden Dart your noble fire,
That so the meanest of his traine
May hope his favours cheape againe?
No with your single Vowes hee's more
Honour'd, then with his wonted store
Of common suppliants. What if here
He loose a couple, who not dare
To shew their faces now (alasse,
They meant their Lands should make them passe.)
Or if he misse some well-borne paire,
Whose only Armes are rich and faire?
Others, who for their yeares expect,
The wing'd Boy will not dare reject
Their reverend vowes, would hither move
T'increase the cinders of their Love.
Some couples haply are kept back,
Who every Good, but Beauty, lack.
Some, who being only vertuous,
Thought other Graces of no use;
Nay, that they lessen'd vertues praise;
As if the shadow added rayes
To the unseen Light, or the Sunne
Lesse welcome were, i'th' brightest noone,
When every Atome feeles a ray,
Then when't beclowded just makes Day.
Let these or more forsake Loves Quire,
You make the Harmony entire:
Had Nature some one Gemme refin'd
To th' worth and lustre of the Kind
We could have spar'd each glittering stone,
Which boasts single perfection.
The wanton Deity is proud,
His roofe such worthy Guests can shrowd,
And would his Mother straight remove,
T' enthrone a fairer Queene of Love,
But that he feares, were this once done
He should be 'sham'd to keep his owne.
Since then already you possesse
What he can only wish were lesse,
See, he forsakes his uselesse Throne,
And tenders a petition;
That when he now and then supplyes
His halfe-spent Quiver from your Eyes,
You'l not complaine to Iove's high Court
Of his too bold, though harmelsse sport:
How will he tremble to be doom'd
To th' Rock, til's Liver be consum'd?
You need not feare, hee'l spend too fast
This golden treasure, and so wast
Your stock away: thinke how much more
Would sicknesse spoyle that precious store;
How many beames would Care put out,
Or some unlucky jealous doubt,
For one, that he shall borrow thence?
And all these Fiends hee'l drive from hence.
You cannot wish more happinesse t' obtain,
Then such a Client, such a Guardian.
G. M.
The Bridegroome to the Bride.
COme, Lovely Maid, and let us walke
Into the Garden, where wee'l talke
Of Knotts, and flowers there, which may be
The Emblems of Loves mystery.
See how yon hony Columbine
About that sturdy Oake doth twine!
It tells thee, these embraces Be,
And Emblemes in Loves Mystery.
See how yon Marigold displayes
It's selfe, and Courts Apollo's Rayes;
It tells Thee, that thou must be free,
And open; in Loves Mystery.
Yon Camomill, when most 'tis prest
(Observe faire Virgin) thrives the Best!
It tells Thee, 'tis the way to prove,
To admit the Pressure of thy Love.
See how yon Vine to the Wall Clings,
And propt, Observe, what fruits it brings!
Jt tels you if you'd fruitfull Bee,
You must be propt, as well as Shee.
Yon Lovely Pippin there is spred.
Because the Sun it Kist, with Red.
Jt tels thee that thy Lovers Kisse
Will make thy Cheeke as red as His:
But stay, Faire Maid, yon Rosemary
Preferres an earnest suit to thee,
That you, would straight married bee,
And hee'l Bequeath yon spriggs you see.
Stay then no longer; Meet thy Love,
And in thy Vnion Fruitfull prove.
Virginity is litle lesse,
Then affected Barrennesse.
N. V.
BLest Vnion! So have I seen
Two Starres, whose fires when having been
Divided, shew'd to th' Vulgar eye
Like Common People of the sky,
With rayes Conjoyn'd dart forth a blaze
So bright, as made all eyes to gaze,
And Wonders to the World dispense
By this their doubled Influence.
Blest Wilts! that never joynd'st a paire
More good, more gentle, sweet, or faire,
Whose veines swell with a richer flood,
Of nobler or more ancient blood.
In many Alembicks Gold's refin'd,
Before t' Elixar 'tis sublim'd.
N. W.
LAdy, when first, and last I saw you sett
Grace of Great Baintun's Table, as you'r yet.
Methought the guests more heartily fed by th' eye;
To see their meat so carv'd did satisfie.
And something was in each mans thought, which told
Vntil this Instant would have bin too bold.
The generall neglect of their rich fare,
Shewed there was somewhat choycer, and more rare.
Not to be tasted though, so the chiefe dish
Was then (what now you'le better know) a wish.
The wine which nimble Ganymeds still brought,
Jt was not to the Venison, but a Thought.
The Supper was a Project, and wee fed
(As if we had the Rickets) in the Head.
Then were our Fancies, (Fancy's very Fleet)
Carried I know not where with Love-wing'd Feet:
Now into This, now That, great Family,
Sometimes the Portmans, Paulets, and then Fly
Vnto Great Heles, and Smiths, and such trim dances,
Vntill at last we rested at Sir Francis.
Here it was time to stay, for next like you
Something was here, that did invite our view.
Jt was a Face the Purblind God had miss'd,
Venus reserv'd it to be private kiss'd.
By her owne Lipp, and often smil'd, and laugh'd
To see this Brest unhitt by ber Sonnes shaft.
The warmed youth strang'd at this unknowne flame,
And knew not what it was, nor whence it came.
Venus was angry at his ignorance,
And in his strangenesse lost her daliance.
Whereat she cal'd her boy, (Hee's never farre)
To joyne that Planet unto This chast starre.
This was his businesse, his delight, his worke;
And in an instant by his wonted lurke,
He wounds, inflames, unites this noble Paire,
And fills them full of Love, and Free from Care.
By This We hungry were, and straight fell too:
Yours is a Feast alike; so pray doe you.
E. G.
ECLOGUE.
Damon: Phyllis.
PRithee (Phyllis) Why this stay?
Loose these Rites, and loose the day▪
Seest thou, how the Sun drives on,
As if [...] [...]nt to daunce anon?
Or rather Posted o're his Light,
That he might make the longer Night.
See'st thou how the Rivall Morne
With Roses doth her Cheeke adorne,
As if in this her blushing Pride
Shee were not Bride-Maid, but the Bride?
Hearke, the sweet Birds are Tuning, Hearke,
The warbling Thrush, the Early Larke
New Layes from one another Borrow,
And all to bid the Bride Good Morrow.
And thus they'l Chaunt away the Light;
But meane to strip themselves at night
Of their soft downe, to build a Nest
For the most equall Paire to Rest.
Why then (Phyllis) Why this stay?
Shall wee onely loose the day?
Phyllis.
Rather my Damon, why this Hast?
What matter though the Rites be Past?
Are there such joyes, such Trophies wonne,
In seeing a Virgin-soule Vndone?
Kind Swayne—
Damon.
—Fond Nymph, Blaspheme no more:
Natures deare selfe hath deeply swore
A stepdame hate, 'gainst such as prove
Rebells to the pure Throne of Love.
Vndone? weake Heretique! to give
[Page 39]Her lost for that, by which wee Live!
Should all Breath Virgin thus, our Stage
Would turne to desart in one Age.
This; 'twould Vndoe the World, and Rate
The day of Doome before it's Date.
Nay, had thy Mother taught this Geere,
Sure (Phyllis) thou hast ne're been here.
Vndone? so is the Fragrant Rose,
When Pluckt, it in her Bosome growes:
So is the Incense spoyld, when us'd
To perfume Heaven, because 'tis Bruis'd.
Diamonds may shine in their Owne Mold,
Yet are more Worth when set in Gold.
Call'st thou then her Vndone, that's Going
The way to thrive by her Vndoing?
To Lodge two soules under One Roofe;
To Live two Lives, two Lives of Proofe;
To part with Maid, yet keepe that Name;
(Chast Wife and Virgin are the same)
To be all Jce, and yet all Fire;
To be Divided, yet Entire;
Bee multiply'd, yet be but One;
Call you me this to bee Vndone?
Now she may live as long as They
Of the First Age, a Live-long Day:
And when Nine hundred yeares are told,
Shee in her stock shall scarce be Old.
[Page 40]To be All Riddle thus, which none
Can solve but Death; nor He Alone;
Jf this be losse, if this be Woe,
O who would not be Vndone so?
Without this Hymen-knot the Frame
Of Heaven and Earth had stood as Lame:
Both sexes make but Man: His Ayde
Was Eve the Woman, not the Maid.
For else a Friend had Cheer'd his Life;
But God gives more then Friend, a Wife.
O Powerfull Charme, which once put On,
Perfects the grand Creation!
Phyllis.
Yet, Damon, once thou said'st to mee
Jn Heaven we all should Virgins bee.
Jf such Blisse rests o'th' Marriage Bed,
Pray tell me, why don't Angells Wed?
Is there that Petty joy can Misse
Them, who are sated with All Blisse?
Cease then to Woe with words not Even:
"The Wife Fills Earth, the Virgin Heaven.
Damon.
True: but yet had'st thou ne're been Born,
Thou ne're shouldst see th' Eternall Morne.
How should Heaven fill with Virgins Worth,
Did not Earths Wombe first bring them Forth?
And though in Heaven no Marrying bee;
"Yet there the Bridegroome we shall see.
Phyllis.
[Page 41]Thus farre you Conquer: But to be
Rob'd of my Native Liberty;
To loose my Holy-dayes, when the Swaynes
Trip it o're the Carpet Plaines;
Is this no Losse? Nay, there's no Gyves
(Say some that Try'd) to the poore Wives.
Damon.
Some such perhaps who strangely take
Girdles for Bonds; some such who make
Garters and shackles one; Deare Girle,
As if this Chaine of Mother-Pearle.
Did Manacle thy Hands, that Ring
Captive thy Finger. Any thing
I'le grant my sweet but this. No More:
There is no Life to Hymens Lore.
Phyllis.
Suppose: yet canst thou name a Doome
To the dread sorrowes of the Wombe?
Nomaea once Counted to me
The thousand Pangs she payd for Thee:
And if Swaynes cost thus deare, what Cares,
What Throbs buy Natures Choycer Wares?
The teeming Deaths of each sad Mother—
Damon J've done, Name such another
Dam.
Come Come, Who would not pay some groanes,
To buy the pretty litle ones?
[Page 42]To be a Mother at no Rate—
Forbid it Heaven and awefull Fate.
But soft; They Come. So breakes the day
From mantled Night: so in full Ray
Shines the bright Sun, when from his bed
He donn's his Beames to deck his head.
The Rose though faire, would staine That Cheek:
Lillies look wan, nor bright, nor sleek
To her cleare Front; where the warme snow
Of driven Jnnocence doth grow;
While on her Cheek the Graine and Dye
Of Blushing Virtue Courts her Eye.
And then her balmy Lip nor Paint
Nor studied Verse can make more quaint.
So many sweets throng in that Face,
Each single would Create a Grace.
Phyllis.
Yet had she more (if more can meet
Jn One) more Faire, more Pure, more sweet;
There's He that will deserve her Tall
And Full-brim Graces, even All.
That Gate! that Looke!—Faire Maid, ne're grutch
Thy easy losse, that gain'st so much.
For if the Casket shine thus Cleare,
How shines the Gemme that lodgeth there?
Help me, my Damon. Helpe, whilst I
Talassio and Talassio cry.
Dam.
[Page 43]But didst thou mark that smile? that Kisse?
That smile agen, and That, and This?
See how they mingle soules; and dart
Their Eyes into each others heart.
So Ioue embrac'd his Swan; that Twine
Darkens the long-fam'd Eglantine:
That living Wreath were it a Bough
Would fit some Conquering Caesars Brow.
Nay Phaebus would forsweare his Tree,
One day to be halfe-blessed by Thee.
Seest thou faire Nymph?—
Phyllis.
—Too much to move
My spring of Blood: Jf this be Love,
I doe Recant: By the next Sun
I am quite Lost, if not Undone.
G. W.
Blest Paire,
Whilest others reare huge Temples to your praise,
Give a poore Swaine an Altar leave to raise
Of Wishes made. Successe bee Sacrifice,
And Time ye Priest, your Blis sweet gūmes & spice.
So chast a flame, possesse each brest,
As that which fire's the Phoenix nest,
When shee her selfe her selfe doth Wooe,
Being Husband, Wife, and Jssue too.
Sun light's supplyed from your own eyes,
Both being Fire, Priest, Sacrifice.
And may't as long and lasting burne
As did the Lampe in Tullias Vrne.
May every looke so gracefull prove
As that, which first did make you love.
May shee grow you, you hir, both one,
Both multiplied by Union.
May you as large an issue see
As those, whom God bid Multiply.
And may each birth as easy passe,
As when you make your selfe ith' glasse.
And all so like the Mother bee,
That shee may thinke when first that she
Beholds the pretty infants face,
The Nurse hath only brought the glasse.
As years increase so may your love,
Like flames in Winter hottest prove.
When you're growne young in Progeny,
Sweetnesse bee chang'd to Majesty.
(So Trees for pleasure and sweet shade
First set, at length were Temples made;
Delight became Religion
And love chang'd to Devotion.)
Your whole lives be one Wedding day.
(Winter's a Spring unto the Bay)
And when y'are dead, may you b'esteemd by all
Loves saints, your Histories Canonicall;
And Wives and Virgins yearely to your Tombe
As to Loves Altar in Procession come.
D. I. S.
N. U. P. T. I. A. L. E. T. F. E. L. I. C. I. T. A. T. I. A. D. C. O. N. N. U. B. G. E. N. E. R. O. S. I. Ss.
H. R.
E. T. L. E. C. T. I. Ss.
A. B.
M. O. R. E. M. A. J. O. R. E. X. V. O. T. O. S. A. C. P. O. S. D. E. D. I. C. G. C.