[figure]

POEMS, AND FANCIES:

WRITTEN By the Right HONOURABLE, the Lady MARGARET Countess of NEWCASTLE.

LONDON, Printed by T. R. for J. Martin, and J. Allestrye at the Bell in Saint Pauls Church Yard, 1653.

THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY: TO SIR CHARLES CAVENDISH, MY Noble Brother-in-Law.

SIR,

I Do here dedicate this my VVork unto you, not that I think my Book is worthy such a Patron, but that such a Patron may gaine my Book a Respect, and Esteeme in the VVorld, by the favour of your Protection. True it is, Spinning with the Fingers is more proper to our Sexe, then studying or writing Poetry, which is the Spinning with the braine: but I having no skill in the Art of the first (and if I had, I had no hopes of gaining so much as to make me a Gar­ment to keep me from the cold) made me delight in the latter; since all braines work naturally, and in­cessantly, in some kinde or other; which made me en­deavour to Spin a Garment of Memory, to lapp up my Name, that it might grow to after Ages: I [Page] cannot say the VVeb is strong, fine, or evenly Spun, for it is a Course peice; yet I had rather my Name should go meanly clad, then dye with cold; but if the Sute be trimmed with your Favour, shee may make such a shew, and appeare so lovely, as to wed to a Vulgar Fame. But certainely your Bounty hath been the Distaffe, from whence Fate hath Spun the thread of this part of my Life, which Life I wish may be drawne forth in your Service. For your Noble minde is above petty Interest, and such a Courage, as you dare not onely look Misfor­tunes in the [...], but grapple with them in the de­fence of your Freind; and your kindnesse hath been such, as you have neglected your selfe, even in ordinary Accoutrements, to maintaine the di­stressed; which shewes you to have such an Affe­ction, as St. Paul expresses for his Brethren in Christ, who could be accurst for the sakes. And since your Charity is of that Length, and Gene­rosity of that Height, that no Times, nor For­tunes can cut shorter, or pull downe lower; I am very confident, the sweetnesse of your [...], which I have alwayes found in the delightfull con­versation of your Company, will never change, but be so humble, as to accept of this Booke, which is the VVork of,

Your most Faithfull Servant, M. N.

TO ALL NOBLE, AND WORTHY LADIES.

Noble, Worthy Ladies,

COndemne not as a dishonour of your Sex, for setting forth this Work; for it is harmelesse and free from all dishonesty; I will not say from Va­nity: for that is so naturall to our Sex, as it were unnaturall, not to be so. Besides, Poetry, which is built upon Fancy, Women may claime, as a worke belonging most properly to themselves: for I have observ'd, that their Braines work usually in a Fantasticall motion: [...] in their severall, and various [...] in their many and sin­gular choices of Cloaths, and Ribbons, and the like; in their curious shadowing, and mixing of Colours, in their Wrought workes, and divers sorts of [...] they imploy their Needle, and many Curious things they make, as Flowers, Boxes, Baskets with Beads, Shells, Silke, [...], or any thing else; besides all manner of Meats to [...]: and thus their Thoughts are imployed perpetually with Fancies. For Fancy goeth not so much by Rule, & Method, as by Choice: and if I have chosen my [...] with fresh co­lours, and [...] them in good shadows, although the [...] be not very true, yet it will please the Eye; so if my Writing please the Readers, though not the Learned, it will satisfie me; for I had rather be praised in this, by the most, although not the best. For all I desire, is Fame, and Fame is nothing but a great noise, and noise lives most in a [...]; wherefore I wish my Book may set a worke every Tongue. But I imagine I shall be censur'd by my owne Sex; and Men will cast a smile of scorne upon my Book, because they think thereby, Women incroach too [Page] much upon their Prerogatives; for they hold Books as their Crowne, and the Sword as their Scepter, by which they rule, and governe. And very like they will say to me, as to the Lady that wrote the Romancy,

Work Lady, work, let writing Books alone,
For surely wiser Women nere wrote one.

But those that say so, shall give me leave to wish, that those of neerest Relation, as Wives, Sisters, & Daugh­ters, may imploy their time no worse then in honest, In­nocent, and harmlesse Fancies; which if they do, Men shall have no cause to feare, that when they go abroad in their absence, they shall receive an [...] by their loose Carriages. Neither will Women be desirous to Gossip a­broad, when their Thoughts are well imployed at home. But if they do throw scorne, I shall intreat you, (as the Woman did in the Play of the Wife, for a Month, which caused many of the Effeminate Sex) to help her, to keep their Right, and Priviledges, making it their owne Case. Therefore pray strengthen my Side, in de­fending my Book; for I know Womens Tougns are as sharp, as two-edged Swords, and wound as much, when they are anger'd. And in this Battell may your Wit be quick, and your Speech ready, and your Arguments so strong, as to beat them out of the Feild of Dispute. So shall I get Honour, and Reputation by your Favours; other­wise I may chance to be cast into the Fire. But if I burn, I desire to die your Martyr; if I live, to be

Your humble Servant, M. N.

AN EPISTLE TO MISTRIS TOPPE.

SOME may think an Imperfection of wit may be a blemish to the Family from whence I sprung: But Solomon sayes, A wise man may get a Fool. Yet there are as few meer Fools, as wise men: for Vnderstanding runs in a levell course, that is, to know in generall, as of the Effects but to know the Cause of any one thing of Natures workes, Nature never gave us a Capacity there­to. Shee hath given us Thoughts which run wildly a­bout, and if by chance they light on Truth, they do not know it for a Truth. But among it many Errours, there are huge Mountaines of Follies; and though I add to the Bulke of one of them yet I make not a Mountaine alone, and am the more excusable, because I have an Opinion, which troubles me like a conscience, that [...] a part of Honour to aspire towards a Fame. For it cannot be an Ef­feminacy to seek, or run after Glory, to love Perfection, to desire Praise; and though I want Merit to make me worthy of it, yet I make some satisfaction in desiring it. But had I broken the Chaines of Modesty, or behav'd my selfe in dishonourable and loose carriage, or had run the wayes of Vice, as to Periure my self, or [...] my Freinds, or denyed a Truth, or had lov'd deceit: Then I might have prov'd a Greife to the Family I came from, and a dis­honour to the Family I am link't to, raised Blushes in their cheeks being mentioned, or to turne Pale when I were published. But I hope, I shall neither greive, nor shame [Page] them, or give them cause to wish I were not a Branch thereof. For though my Ambition's great, my designes are harmelesse, and my wayes are plaine Honesty: and if I stumble at Folly, yet will I never fall on Vice. Tis true, the World may wonder at my Confidence, how I dare put out a Book, especially in these censorious times; but why should I be ashamed, or affraid, where no [...] is, and not please my selfe in the satisfaction of innocent desires? For a smile of neglect cannot dishearten me, no more can a Frowne of dislike affright me; not but I should be well pleased, and delight to have my Booke commended. But the Worlds dispraises cannot make me a mourning garment: my mind's too big, and I had rather venture an indiscre­tion, then loose the hopes of a Fame. Neither am I ashamed of my [...], for Nature tempers not every Braine a­like; but tis a shame to deny the Principles of their Reli­gion, to break the [...] of a well-governed Kingdome, to disturbe Peace, to be unnaturall, to break the Vnion and Amity of honest Freinds, for a Man to be a Coward, for a Woman to be a Whore, and by these Actions, they are not onely to be cast out of all Civill society, but to be blot­ted out of the Roll of Mankinde. And the reason why I summon up these Vices, is, to let my Friends know, or rather to remember them, that my Book is none of them: yet in this Action of setting out of a Booke, I am not clear without [...], because I have not asked leave of any Freind thereto; for the feare of being denied, made me silent: and there is an Old saying; That it is casier to aske Pardon, then Leave: for a fault will sooner be for­given, then a suite granted: and as I have taken the One, so I am very confident they will give me the Other. For their Affection is such, as it doth as easily obscure all in­firmity and blemishes, as it is fearfull and quick-sighted in spying the Vices of those they love; and they doe with as much kindnesse pardon the One, as with griefe reprove the Other. But I thought it an Honour to aime at Excel­lencies, and though I cannot attaine thereto, yet an En­deavour shews a good will, and a good will ought not to be turned out of Noble mindes, nor be whipt with dispraises, [Page] but to be cherished with Commendations. Besides, I Print this Book, to give an Account to my Freinds, how I spend the idle Time of my life, and how I busie my Thoughts, when I thinke upon the Obiects of the World. For the truth is, our Sex hath so much waste Time, having but little imployments, which makes our Thoughts run wild­ly about, having nothing to fix them upon, which wilde thoughts do not onely produce unprofitable, but indis­creet Actions; winding up the Thread of our lives in snarles on unsound bottoms. And since all times must be spent either ill, or well, or indifferent; I thought this was the harmelessest Pastime: for lure this Worke is better then to sit still, and censure my Neighbours actions, which no­thing concernes [...]; or to condemne their Humours, be­cause they do [...] sympathize with mine, or their lawfull Recreations, because they are not agreeable to my delight; or ridiculously to laugh at my Neighbours Cloaths, if they are not of the Mode, Colour, or Cut, or the Ribbon tyed with a Mode Knot, or to busie my selfe out [...] the Sphear of our Sex, as in Politicks of State, or to Preach false Doctrine in a Tub, or to entertaine my selfe in [...] to vaine Flatteries, or to the incitements of evill perswasions; where all these Follies, and many more may be cut off by such innocent worke as this. I write not this onely to satisfie you, which my Love makes me desire so to doe; but to defend my Book from spightfull Invaders, knowing Truth and Innocence are two good Champions a­gainst Malice and [...]: and which is my defence, I am very confident is a great satisfaction to you. For be­ing bred with me, your Love is twisted to my Good, which shall never be undone by any unkinde Action of Mine, but will alwayes remaine

Your loving Freind, M. N.
Madam,

YOu are not onely the first English [...] of your Sex, but the first that ever wrote this way: there­fore whosoever that writes afterwards, must own you for their Pattern, from whence they take their Sample; and a Line by which they measure their Conceits and Fancies. For whatsoever is written asterwards, it will be bur a Copy of your Originall, which can be no more Ho­nour to them, then to Labouring Men, that draw Water from another mans Spring, for their owne use: neither can there be anything writ, that your Honour have not imployed your Pen in: As there is Poeticall Fictions, Morall instructi­ons, Philosophicall Opinions, Dialogues, Discourses, Poeticall Romances. But truely, Madam, this Book is not the onely occasion to Admire you; for having been brought up from my Childhood in your Honourable Family, and al­wayes in your Ladyships company; seeing the course of your life, and honouring your Ladyships disposition, I have ad­mired Nature more, in your Ladiship, then in any other Works besides. First, in the course of your Life, you were alwayes Circumspect, by Nature, not by Art; for naturally your Honour did hate to do any thing that was mean and unwor­thy, or anything that your Honour might not owne to all the World with confidence; & yet your Ladiship is naturally ba­shful, & apt to be out of Countenance, that your Ladiship could not oblige all the World But truly, Madam, Fortune [...] not so much in her power to give, as your Honour [...] to bestow; which apparently shineth in all Places, especially where your Ladyship [...] been, as France, Flanders, Hol­land, &c. to your everlasting Honour and Fame; which will manifest this Relation to be the Truth, as well as I, who am,

Madam,
Your Honours most humble and obedient Servant, E. Toppe.

To Naturall Philosophers.

IF any Philosophers have written of these Subjects', as I make no question, or doubt, but they have, of all that Nature hath discover'd, either in meere Thought, and Spe­culation, or other waies in Observation; yet it is more then I know of: for I never read, nor heard of any English Booke to Instruct me: and truly I understand no other Language; not French, although I was in France five yeares: Neither do I un­derstand my owne Native Language very well; for there are many words, I know not what they signifie; so as I have one­ly the Vulgar part, I meane, that which is most usually spoke. I do not meane that which is us'd to be spoke by Clownes in e­very Shire, where in some Parts their Language is knowne to none, but those that are bred there. And not onely every Shire hath a severall Language, but every Family, giving Marks for things according to their Fancy. But my Ignorance of the Mother Tongues makes me ignorant of the Opinions, and Discourses in former times; wherefore I may be absurd, and crre grossely. I can­not say, I have not heard of Atomes, and Figures, and Motion, and Matter; but not throughly reason'd on: but if I do erre, it is no great matter; for my Discourse of them is not to be ac­counted Authentick: so if there be any thing worthy of no­ting, it is a good Chance; if not, there is no harm done, nor time lost. For I had nothing to do when I wrot it, and I sup­pose those have nothing, or little else to do, that read it. And the Reason why I write it in Verse, is, because I thought Er­rours might better passe there, then in Prose; since Poets write most Fiction, and Fiction is not given for Truth, but Pastime; and I feare my Atomes will be as small Pastime, as themselves: for nothing can be lesse then an Atome. But my desire that they should please the Readers, is as big as the World they make; and my Feares are of the same bulk; yet my Hopes fall to a single Atome agen: and so shall I remaine an unsettled Atome, or a confus'd heape, till I heare my Censure. If I be prais'd, it fixes them; but if I am condemn'd, I shall be Annihilated to nothing: but my Ambition is such, as I would either be a World, or nothing.

[Page] I desire all that are not quick in apprehending, or will not trouble themselves with such small things as Atomes, to skip this part of my Book, and view the other, for feare these may seem tedious: yet the Subject is light, and the Chapters short. Perchance the other may please better; if not the second, the third; if not the third, the fourth; if not the fourth, the sifth: and if they cannot please, for lack of Wit, they may please in Variety, for most Palates are greedy after Change. And though they are not of the choicest Meates, yet there is none dangerous; neither is there so much of particular Meat, as any can feare a Surfet; but the better pleas'd you are, the better Welcome. I wish heartily my Braine had been Richer, to make you a fine Entertainment: truly I should have spar'd no Cost, neither have I spar'd any Paines: for my Thoughts have been very busily im­ployed, these eight, or nine Months, when they have not been taken away by Wordly Cares, and Trouble, which I confesse hath been a great hinderance to this Work. Yet have they lat up late, and risen earely, running about untill they have been in a fiery heat, so as their Service hath not been wanton, nor their In­dustry slack. What is amisse, excuse it as a Fault of too much Care; for there may be [...] committed with being over-bu­sie, as soon as for want of Diligence. But those that are poore, have nothing but their labour to bestow; and though I cannot serve you on Agget Tables, and Persian Carpets, with Golden Di­shes, and Chrystall Glasses, nor feast you with Ambrosia, and Nectar, yet perchance my Rye Loafe, and new Butter may tast more sa­voury, then those that are sweet, and delicious.

If you dislike, and rise to go away,
Pray do not Scoff, and tell what I did say.
But if you do, the matter is not great,
For tis but foolish words you can repeat.
Pray do not censure all you do not know,
But let my Atomes to the Learned go.
If you judge, and understand not, you may take
For Non-sense that which learning Sense will make.
But I may say, as Some have said before,
I'm not bound to setch you Wit from Natures Store.

TO THE READER.

READER,

IF any do read this Book of mine, pray be not too severe in your Censures. For first, I have no Children to imploy my Care, and Attendance on; And my Lords Estate being taken a­way, had nothing for Huswifery, or thristy Industry to im­ploy my selfe in; having no Stock to work on. For Housewife­ry is a discreet Management, and ordering all in Private, and Household Affaires, seeing nothing spoil'd, or Prosusely spent, that every thing has its proper Place, and every Servant his proper Work, and every Work to be done in its proper Time; to be Neat, and Cleanly, to have their House quiet from all disturbing Noise. But Thriftiness is something stricter; for good Housewifery may be used in great Expenses; but Thriftiness signifies a Saving, or a get­ting; as to increase their Stock, or Estate. For Thrift weighs, and measures out all Expence. It is just as in Poetry: for good Hus­bandry in Poetry, is, when there is great store of Fancy well order'd, not onely in fine Language, but proper Phrases, and significant Words. And Thrift in Poetry, is, when there is but little Fancy, which is not onely spun to the last Thread, but the Thread is drawne so [...], as it is scarce perceived. But I have nothing to spin, or or­der, so as I become Idle; I cannot say, in mine owne House, because I have none, but what my Mind is lodg'd in. Thirdly, you are to spare your severe Censures, I having not so many yeares of Experience, as will make me a Garland to Crowne my Head; onely I have had so much time, as to gather a little Posie to stick upon my Breast. Last­ly, the time I have been writing them, hathnot been very long, but since I came into England, being eight Yeares out, and nine Months in; and of these nine Months, onely some Houres in the Day, or rather in the Night. For my Rest being broke with dis­contented Thoughts, because I was from my Lord, and Husband, knowing him to be in great Wants, and my selfe in the same Con­dition; to divert them, I strove to turne the Stream, yet shunning [Page] the muddy, and foule waies of Vice, I went to the Well of Heli­con, and by the Wells side, I have sat, and wrote this Worke. It is not Excellent, nor Rare, but plaine; yet it is harmlesse, modest, and honest. True, it may taxe my [...], being so fond of my Book, as to make it as if it were my Child, and striving to shew her to the World, in hopes Some may like her, although no Beauty to Admire, yet may praise her Behaviour, as not being wanton, nor rude. Wherefore I hope you will not put her out of Countenance, which she is very apt to, being of bashfull Nature, and as ready to shed Repentant Teares, if she think she hath committed a Fault: wherefore pity her Youth, and tender Growth, and rather taxe the Parents Indiscretion, then the Childs Innocency. But my Book coming out in this Iron age, I feare I shall sind hard Hearts; yet I had rather she should find Cruelty, then Scorne, and that my book should be torn, rather then laught at; for there is no such regret in Nature as Contempt: but I am resolv'd to set it at all Hazards. If Fortune plaies Aums Ace, I am gon; if size Cinque, I shall win a Reputation of Fancy, and if I loose, I loose but the Opinion of Wit: and where the Gaine will be more then the Losse, who would not [...]: when there are many in the World, (which are ac­counted Wise) that will venture Life, and Honour, for a petty Interest, or out of Envie, or for Revenge sake. And why should not I venture, when nothing lies at Stake, but Wit? let it go; I shall nor cannot be much Poorer. If Fortune be my Friend, then Fame will be my Gaine, which may build me a Pyramid, a Praise to my Me­mory. I shall have no cause to seare it will be so high as Babels Tow­er, to fall in the mid-way; yet I am sorry it doth not touch at Hea­ven: but my Incapacity, Feare, Awe, and Reverence kept me from that Work. For it were too great a Presumption to venture to Discourse that in my Fancy, which is not describeable. For God, and his Heavenly Mansions, are to be admired, wondred, and astonished at, and not disputed on.

But at all other things let Fancy fiye,
And, like a Towring Eagle, mount the Skie.
Or lik the Sun swiftly the World to round,
Or like pure Gold, which in the Earth is found.
But if a drossie Wit, let't buried be,
Under the Ruines of all Memory.

The Poetresses hasty Resolution.

REading my Verses, I like't them so well,
Selfe-love did make my Iudgement to rebell.
Thinking them so good, I thought more to write;
Considering not how others would them like.
I writ so fast, I thought, if I liv'd long,
A Pyramid of Fame to build thereon.
Reason observing which way I was bent,
Did stay my hand, and ask't me what I meant;
Will you, said shee, thus waste your time in vaine,
On that which in the World small praise shall gaine?
For shame leave off, sayd shee, the Printer spare,
Hee'le loose by your ill Poetry, I feare
Besides the Worldhath already such a weight
Of uselesse Bookes, as it is over fraught.
Then pitty take, doe the World a good turne,
And all you write cast in the fire, and burne.
Angry I was, and Reason strook away,
When I did he are, what shee to me did say.
Then all in haste I to the Presle it sent,
Fearing Perswasion might my Book prevent:
But now 'tis done, with greife repent doe I,
Hang down my head [...] shame, blush sigh, and cry.
Take pitty, and my drooping Spirits raise,
Wipe off my teares with Handkerchiefes of Praise.

The Poetresses Petition.

LIke to a Feavers pulse my heart doth beat,
For fear my Book some great repulse should meet.
If it be naught, let her in silence lye,
Disturbe her not, let her in quiet dye;
Let not the Bells of your dispraise ring loud,
But wrap her up in silence as a Shrowd;
Cause black oblivion on her Hearse to hang,
Instead of Tapers, let darke night there stand;
[Page] In stead of Flowers to the grave her strow
Before her Hearse, sleepy, dull Poppy throw;
In stead of Scutcheons, let my Teares be [...],
Which greife and sorrow from my eyes out wrung:
Let those that beare her Corps, no lesters be,
But sad, and sober, grave Mortality:
No Satyr Poets to her Funerall come;
No Altars rays'd to write Inscriptions on:
Let dust of all forgetfulnesse be cast
Upon her Corps, there let them lye and waste:
Nor let her rise againe; unlesse some know,
At Iudgements, some good Merits shee can shew;
Then shee shall live in Heavens of high praise;
And for her glory, Garlands of fresh Bayes,

An excuse for so much writ upon my Verses.

COndemne me not for making such a coyle
About my Book, alas it is my Childe.
Just like a Bird, when her Young are in Nest,
Goes in, and out, and hops and takes no Rest;
But when their Young are fledg'd, their heads out peep,
Lord what a chirping does the Old one keep.
So I, for feare my Strengthlesse Childe should fall
Against a doore, or stoole, aloud I call,
Bid have a care of such a dangerous place:
Thus write I much, to hinder all disgrace.

POEMS.

Nature calls a Councell, which was Mo­tion, Figure, matter, and Life, to advise about making the World.

WHen Nature first this World she did create,
She cal'd a Counsell how the same might make;
Motion was first, who had a subtle wit,
And then came Life, and Forme, and Mat­ter fit.
First Nature spake, my Friends if we agree,
We can, and may do a sine worke, said she,
Make some things to adore us, worship give,
Which now we only to our selves do live.
Besides it is my nature things to make,
To give out worke, and you directions take.
And by this worke, a pleasure take therein,
And breed the Fates in huswifery to spin,
And make strong Destiny to take some paines,
Least she growe idle, let her Linke some Chaines:
Inconstancy, and Fortune turne a Wheele,
Both' are so wanton, cannot stand, but reele.
And Moisture let her poure out Water forth,
And Heat let her suck out, and raise up growth,
And let sharp Cold stay things that run about,
And Drought stop holes, to keepe the water out.
[...], and Darknesse they will domineere,
If Motions power make not Light appeare;
[Page 2] Produce a Light, that all the World may see,
My only Childe from all Eternitie:
Beauty my Love, my Joy, and deare delight,
Else Darknesse rude will cover her with spight.
Alas, said Motion, all paines I can take,
Will do no good, Matter a Braine must make;
Figure must draw a Circle, round, and small,
Where in the midst must stand a Glassy Ball,
AN Eye.
Without Convexe, the inside a Concave,
And in the midst a round small hole must have,
That Species may passe, and repasse through,
Life the Prospective every thing to view.
Alas, said Life, what ever we do make,
Death, my great Enemy, will from us take:
And who can hinder his strong, mighty power?
He with his cruelty doth all devoure:
And Time, his Agent, brings all to decay:
Thus neither Death, nor Time will you obey:
He cares for none of your commands, nor will
Obey your Lawes, but doth what likes him still;
He knowes his power far exceedeth ours;
For whatso'ere we make, he soone devours.
Let me advise you never take such paines
A World to make, since Death hath all the gaines.
Figures opinion did agree with Life,
For Death, said she, will fill the World with strife;
What Forme soever I do turne into,
Death findes me out, that Forme he doth undoe.
Then Motion spake, none hath such cause as I,
For to complaine, for Death makes Motion dye.
'Tis best to let alone this worke, I thinke.
Saies Matter, Death corrupts, and makes me stinke.
Saies Nature, I am of another minde,
If we let Death alone, we soone shall finde,
He wars will make, and raise a mighty power,
If we divert him not, may us devoure.
He is ambitious, will in triumph sit,
Envies my workes, and seekes my State to get.
And Fates, though they upon great Life attend,
Yet feare they Death, and dare not him offend.
[Page 3] Though Two be true, and spin as Life them bids,
The Third is false, and cuts short the long threads.
Let us agree, for feare we should do worse,
And make some worke, for to imply his force.
Then all rose up, we do submit, say, they,
To Natures will, in every thing obey.
First Matter she brought the Materialls in,
And Motion cut, and carv'd out every thing.
And Figure she did draw the Formes and Plots,
And Life divided all out into Lots.
And Nature she survey'd, directed all,
With the foure Elements built the Worlds Ball.
The solid Earth, as the Foundation lai'd,
The Waters round about as Walls were rais'd,
Where every drop lies close, like Stone, or Bricke,
Whose moisture like as Morter made them sticke.
Aire, as the Seeling, keeps all close within,
Least some Materialls out of place might spring.
Aire presses downe the Seas, if they should rise,
Would overflow the Earth, and drowne the Skies.
For as a Roofe that's laid upon a Wall,
To keepe it steddy, that no side might fall,
So Nature Aire makes that place to take,
And Fire highest laies, like Tyle, or Slat,
To keepe out raine, or wet, else it would rot:
So would the World corrupt, if Fire were not.
The Planets, like as Weather-fans, turne round,
The Sun a Diall in the midst is found:
Where he doth give so just account of time,
He measures all, though round, by even Line.
But when the Earth was made, and seed did sow,
Plants on the Earth, and Mineralls downe grow,
Then Creatures made, which Motion gave them sense,
Yet reason none, to give intelligence.
But Nature found when she was Man to make,
More difficult then new Worlds to create:
For she did strive to make him long to last,
Into Eternity then he was cast.
For in no other place could keep him long,
But in Eternity, that Castle strong.
[Page 4] There she was sure that Death she could keep out,
Although he is a Warriour strong, and stout.
Man she would make not like to other kinde,
Though not in Body, like a God in minde.
Then she did call her Councell once againe,
Told them the greatest work edid yet remaine.
For how, said she, can we our selves new make?
Yet Man we must like to our selves create:
Or else he can never escape Deaths snare,
To make this worke belongs both skill, and care;
But I a Minde will mixe, as I thinke sit,
With Knowledge, Understanding, and with Wit,
And, Motion, you your Serjeants must imploye:
Which Passions are, to waite still in the Eye,
To dresse, and cloath this Minde in fashions new,
Which none knowes better how to doe't then you.
What though this Body dye, this Minde shall live,
And a free-will we must unto it give.
But, Matter, you from Figure Forme must take,
Different from other Creatures, Man must make.
For he shall go upright, the rest shall not,
And, Motion, you in him must tye a knot
Of severall Motions there to meet in one:
Thus Man like to himselfe shall be alone.
You, Life, command the Fates a thread to spin,
From which small thread the Body shall begin.
And while the thread doth last, not cut in twaine,
The Body shall in Motion still remaine.
But when the thread is broke, then downe shall fall,
And for a time no Motion have at all.
But yet the Minde shall live, and never dye;
We'le raise the Body too for company.
Thus, like our selves, we can make things to live
Eternally, but no past times can give.

Deaths endeavour to hinder, and obstruct Nature.

WHen Death did heare what Nature did intend,
To hinder her he all his force did bend.
But finding all his forces were too weake,
He alwaies strives the Thread of life to breake:
And strives to fill the Minde with black despaire,
Let's it not rest in peace, nor free from care;
And since he cannot make it dye, he will
Send griefe, and sorrow to torment it still.
With grievous paines the Body he displeases,
And bindes it hard with chaines of strong diseases.
His Servants, Sloth, and Sleep, he doth imploye,
To get halfe of the time before they dye:
But Sleep, a friend to Life, oft disobeyes
His Masters will, and softly downe her lay's
Upon their weary limbs, like Birds in nest
And gently locks their senses up in rest.

A World made by Atomes.

SMall Atomes of themselves a World may make,
As being subtle, and of every shape:
And as they dance about, fit places finde,
Such Formes as best agree, make every kinde.
For when we build a house of Bricke, and Stone,
We lay them even, every one by one:
And when we finde a gap that's big, or small,
We seeke out Stones, to fit that place withall.
For when not fit, too big, or little be,
They fall away, and cannot stay we see.
So Atomes, as they dance, finde places fit,
They there remaine, lye close, and fast will sticke.
Those that unfit, the rest that rove about,
Do never leave, untill they thrust them out.
Thus by their severall Motions, and their Formes,
As severall work-men serve each others turnes.
[Page 6] And thus, by chance, may a New World create:
Or else predestinated to worke my Fate.

The foure principall Figur'd Atomes make the foure Elements. as Square, Round, Long, and Sharpe.

THE Square stat Atomes, as dull Earth appeare,
The Atomes Round do make the Water cleere.
The Long streight Atomes like to Arrowes fly,
Mount next the points, and make the Aiery Skie;
The Sharpest Atomes do into Fire turne,
Which by their peircing quality they burne:
That Figure makes them active, active, Light;
Which makes them get aboue the rest in flight;
And by this Figure they stick fast, and draw
Up other Atomes which are Round and Raw:
As Waters are round drops, though nere so small,
Which shew that water is all sphericall.
That Figure makes it spungy, spungy, wet,
For being hollow, softnesse doth [...].
And being soft, that makes it run about;
More solid Atomes thrast it in, or out;
But sharpest Atomes have most power thereon,
To nip it up with Cold, or Heate to run.
But Atomes Flat, are heavy, dull, and slow,
And sinking downward to the bottome go:
Those Figur'd Atomes are not active, Light,
Whereas the Longe are like the Sharp in flight.
For as the Sharpe do pierce, and get on high,
So do the long shoot streight, and evenly.
The Round are next the Flat, the Long next Round,
Those which are sharp, are still the highest found:
The Flat turne all to Earth, which lye most low,
The Round, to Water cleer, which liquid flow.
The Long to Aire turne, from whence Clouds grow,
The Sharp to Fire turne, which hot doth glow.
These Foure Figures foure Elements do make,
And as their Figures do incline, they take.
[Page 7] For those are perfect in themselves alone,
Not taking any shape, but what's their owne.
What Forme is else, must still take from each part,
Either from Round, or Long, or Square, or Sharp;
As those that are like to Triangulars cut,
Part of three Figures in one Forme is put.
And those that bow and bend like to a Bow;
Like to the Round, and joynted Atomes shew.
Those that are Branch'd, or those which crooked be,
You may both the Long, and sharp Figures see.
Thus severall Figures, severall tempers make,
But what is mixt, doth of the Four partake.

Of Aiery Atomes.

THE Atomes long, which streaming Aire makes,
Are hollow, from which Forme Aire softnesse takes.
This makes that Aire, and water neer agree,
Because in hollownesse alike they be.
For Aiery Atomes made are like a Pipe,
And watry Atomes, Round, and Cimball like.
Although the one is Long, the other Round;
Yet in the midst, a hollownesse is found.
This makes us thinke, water turnes into Aire,
And Aire often runs into water faire.
And like two Twins, mistaken they are oft;
Because their hollownesse makes both them soft.

Of Aire.

THE reason, why Aire doth so equall spred,
Is Atomes long, at each end ballanced.
For being long, and each end both alike,
Are like to Weights, which keep it steddy, right:
For howsoere it moves, to what Forme joyne,
Yet still that Figure lies in every line.
For Atomes long, their [...] are like a Thread,
Which interweaves like to a Spiders Web:
And thus being thin, it so subtle growes,
That into every empty place it goes.

Of Earth.

WHY Earth's not apt to move, but slow and dull,
Is, Atomes flat no Vacuum hath' butfull.
That Forme admits no empty place to bide,
All parts are fil'd, having no hollow side.
As Round, and Long have.
And where no Vacuum is, Motion is slow,
Having no empty places for to go.
Though Atomes all are small, as small may bee,
As the numbers of Sharpe A­tomes do peirce and make way through grea­ter numbers, as a Sparke of fire will kin­dle, and burn up a house.
Yet by their Formes, Motion doth disagree.
For Atomes sharp do make themselves a Way,
Cutting through other Atomes as they stray.
But Atomes flat will dull, and lazy lay,
Having no Edge, or point to make a Way.

The weight of Atomes.

IF Atomes are as small, as small can bee,
They must in quantity of Matter all agree:
And if consisting Matter of the same (be right,)
Then every Atome must weigh just alike.
Thus Quantity, Quality and Weight, all
Together meets in every Atome small.

The bignesse of Atomes:

MHEN I say Atomes small, as small can bee;
I mean Quantity, quality, and Weight agree
Not in the Figure, for some may shew
Much bigger, and some lesser: so
Take Water fluid, and Ice thats firme,
Though the Weight be just, the Bulke is not the same.
So Atomes are some soft, others more knit,
According as each Atome's Figured;
Round and Long Atomes hollow are, more slacke
Then Flat, or Sharpe, for they are more compact:
And being hollow they are spread more thin,
Then other Atomes which are close within:
And Atomes which are thin more tender far,
For those that are more close, they harder are.

The joyning of severall Figur'd Atomes make other Figures.

SEverall Figur'd Atomes well agreeing,
When joyn'd, do give another Figure being.
For as those Figures joyned, severall waies,
The Fabrick of each severall Creature raise.

What Atomes make Change.

TIS severall Figur'd Atomes that make Change,
When severall Bodies meet as they do range.
For if they sympathise, and do agree,
They joyne [...], as one Body bee.
But if they joyne like to a Rabble-rout,
Without all order running in and out;
Then disproportionable things they make,
Because they did not their right places take.

All things last, or dissolve, according to the Composure of Atomes.

THose Atomes loosely joyn'd, do not remaine
So long as those, which Closenesse do maintaine.
Those make all things i'th [...] ebb, and flow;
According as the moving Atomes go.
Others in Bodies, they do joyne so close,
As in long time, they never stir, nor loose:
And some will joyne so close, and knit so fast,
As if unstir'd, they would for ever last.
In smallest Vegetables, loosest Atomes lye,
Which is the reason, they so quickly dye.
In Animals, much closer they are laid,
Which is the cause, Life is the longer staid.
Some Vegetables, and Animals do joyne
In equall strength, if Atomes so combine.
But Animals, where Atomes close lay in,
Are stronger, then some Vegetables thin.
But in Vegetables, where Atomes do stick fast,
[Page 10] As in strong Trees, the longer they do last.
In Minerals, they are so hard wedg'd in,
No space they leave for Motion to get in:
Being Pointed all, the closer they do lye,
Which make them not like Vegetables dye.
Those Bodies, where loose Atomes most move in,
Are Soft, and Porous, and many times thin.
Those [...] Bodies never do live long,
For why, loose Atomes never can be strong.
There Motion having power, tosses them about,
Keeps them from their right places, so Life goes out.

Of Loose Atomes.

IN every Braine loose Atomes there do lye,
Those which are Sharpe, from them do Fancies flye.
Those that are long, and Aiery, nimble be.
But Atomes Round, and Square, are dull, and sleepie.

Change is made by several-figur'd Atomes, and Motion.

IF Atomes all are of the selfe same Matter;
As Fire, Aire, Earth, and Water:
Then must their severall Figures make all Change
By Motions helpe, which orders, as they range.

Of Sharpe Atomes.

THen Atomes Sharpe Motion doth mount up high;
Like Arrowes sharpe, Motion doth make them flye.
And being sharpe and swift, they peirce so deep,
As they passe through all Atomes, as they meet:
By their swift motion, they to bright Fire turne;
And being Sharpe, they peirce, which we call Burne.

What Atomes make Flame.

THose Atomes, which are Long,
These A­tomes are [...] [...] Atomes, and half Fiery.
sharp at each end,
Stream forth like Aire, in Flame, which Light doth seem:
For Flame doth flow, as if it fluid were,
Which shewes, part of that Figure is like Aire.
Thus Flame is joyn'd, two Figures into one:
But Fire without Flame, is sharpe alone.

Of Fire and Flame.

ALthough we at a distance stand; if great
The Fire be, the Body through will heat.
Yet those sharpe Atomes we do not perceive;
How they flye out, nor how to us [...] cleave.
Nor do they flame, nor shine they cleare and bright,
When they [...] out, and on our Bodies strike.
The reason is, they loose, and scattered flye;
And not in Troupes, nor do they on [...]
Like small dust [...], which scatter'd all about;
We see it not, nor doth it keep Light out:
When gathered thick up to a Mountaine high,
We see them then in solid Earth to lye.
Just so do Atomes sharpe looke, cleere, and bright,
When in heaps lye, or in a streaming flight.

Of Fire in the Flint.

THE reason, Fire lies in Flint unseene;
Is, other Figur'd Atomes lye betweene:
For being bound, and overpowred by
A Multitude, they do in Prison lye.
Unlesse that Motion doth release them out,
With as strong power, which make them flye about
But if that Flint be beat to powder small;
To sep'rate the grossest, releas'd are all.
But when they once are out, do not returne,
But seeke about to make another Forme.

Of the Sympathy of Atomes.

BY Sympathy, Atomes are fixed so,
As past some Principles they do not go.
For count the Principles of all their workes,
You'le finde, there are not many severall sorts.
For when they do dissolve, and new Formes make,
They still to their first Principles do take.
As Animals, Vegetables, Minerals;
So Aire, Fire, Earth, Water falls.

Of the Sympathy of their Figures.

SUch Sympathy there is in every Figure,
Long, Round, Sharpe, Flat.
That every severall sort do flock together.
As Aire, Water, Earth and Fine;
Which make each Element to be entire:
Not but loose [...], like Sheep stray about,
And int o severall places go in, andout:
And some as Sheep and Kine do mixe together;
Which when they mixe, tis severall change of weather.
But Motion, as their [...] drives them so,
As not to let them out of order go.

What Atomes make Vegetables, Mine­rals, and Animals.

THE Eranched Atomes Formes each [...] thing,
The hooked points pull out, and m akes them spring,
The Atomes Round give Juice, the Sharpe give heate;
And those grow Hearbs, and Fruits, and Flowers sweet.
Those that are Square, and Flat, not rough withall,
Make those which Stone; and Minerals we call.
But in all Stones, and Minerals (no doubt,)
Sharpe points do lye, which Fire makes strike out.
Thus Vegetables, Minerals do grow,
According as the severall Atomes go.
In Animals, all Figures do agree;
But in Mankinde, the best of Atomes bee.
[Page 13] And thus, in Nature the whole World may be,
For all we know, unto Eternitie.

What Atomes make Heate and Cold.

SSuch kinde of Atomes, which make Heat, make Cold:
Like Pincers sharpe, which nip, and do take hold.
But Atomes that are pointed sharpe, peirce through:
And Atomes which are sharpe, but Hookt, pull to.
Yet, all must into pointed Figures turne;
For Atomes blunt will never freeze, nor burne.
Cause [...] Figures do to a soft Forme bend;
And Soft do unto [...], or Liquid tend.

What Atomes make Fire to burne, and what Flame.

WHat makes a Sparks of Fire to burne more quick,
Then a great Flame? because 'tis small to stick.
For Fire of it selfe, it is so dry,
Falls into parts, as crowds of Atomes lye.
The Sharpest Atomes keepe the Body hot,
To give out Heat, some Atomes forth are shot.
Sometimes for anger, the Sparkes do flye about;
Or want of roome, the weakest are thrust out.
They are so sharpe, that whatsoere they meet,
If not orepowr'd, by other Atomes,
This is, when some Atomes overpower o­thers by their Numbers, for they cannot change their Formes.
eate:
As Ants, which small, will eate up a dead Horse:
So Atomes sharpe, on Bodies of lesse force.
Thus Atomes sharpe, yet sharper by degrees;
As Stings in Flies, are not so sharpe as Bees.
And when they meet a Body, solid, stat,
The weakest Flye, the Sharpest worke on that.
Those that are not so sharpe, do flye about,
To seeke some lighter matter, to eate out.
So lighter Atomes do turne Aire to Flame,
Because more Thin, and [...] is the same
Thus Flame is not so hot as Burning Coale;
The Atomes are too weake, to take fast hold.
The sharpest into firmest Bodies flye,
But if their strength be small, they quickly dye.
[Page 14] Or if their Number be not great, but small;
The [...] Atomes beate and quench out all.

What Atomes make the Sun, and the Sea, go round.

ALL pointed Atomes, they to Fire turne;
Which by their drinesse, they so light become:
Above the rest do flye, and make a Sun.
Which by consent of parts, a Wheele of Fire growes,
Which being Sphaericall, in a round motion goes:
And as it turnes round, Atomes turne about;
Which Atomes round, are Water, without doubt.
This makes the Sea go round, like Water-Mill;
For as the Sun turnes round, so doth the water still.

What Atomes make Life.

ALL pointed Atomes to Life do tend,
Whether pointed all, or at one end.
Or whether Round, are set like to a Ring;
Or whether Long, are roul'd as on a String.
Those which are pointed, streight, quick Motion give;
But those that bowe and bend, more dull do live.
For Life lives dull, or merrilie,
According as Sharpe Atomes be.
The Cause why things do live and dye,
Is, as the mixed Atomes lye.

What Atomes make Death.

LIfe is a Fire, and burnes full hot,
But when Round watry Atomes power have got:
Then do they quench Lifes Atomes out,
Blunting their Points, and kill their courage stout.
Thus they sometimes do quite thrust out each other,
Over power'd.
When equall mix'd, live quietly together.
The cause why things do live and dye,
Is as the mixed Atomes lye.
What Atomes cause Sicknesse.
WHen sicke the Body is, and well by fits,
Atomes are fighting, but none [...] better gets.
If they agree, then Health returnes againe,
And so shall live as long as Peace remaine

What Atomes make a Dropsie.

WHen Atomes round do meet, joyne in one Ball,
Then they swell high, and grow Hydropicall.
Thus joyning they 'come strong, so powerfull grow,
All other Atomes they do overflow.

What Atomes make a Consumption.

THE Atomes sharpe, when they together meet,
They grow so hot, all other Atomes beate.
And being hot, becomes so very dry,
They drinke Lifes moisture up, make motion dye.

What Atomes make the wind Collick.

LOng aiery Atomes, when they are combin'd,
Do spread themselves abroad, and so make Wind:
Making a Length and Breadth extend so far,
That all the rest can neither go nor stir.
And being forc'd, not in right places lye;
Thus press'd too hard, Man in great paine doth lye.

What Atomes make a Palsey, or Apoplexy.

DUll Atomes flat, when they together joyne,
And with each other in a heape combine;
This Body thicke doth stop all passage so,
Keeps Motion out, so num'd the Body grow.
Atomes that are sharpe, in which Heate doth live,
Being smothered close, no heate can give:
But if those Atomes flat meet in the Braine,
They choake the Spirits, can no hea te obtaine.

In all other Diseases they are mixed, taking parts, and factions.

BUT in all other Diseases they are mix'd,
And not in one consisting Body fix'd.
But do in factions part, then up do rise;
Striving to beate each other out, Man dies.

All things are govern'd by Atomes.

THus Life and Death, and young and old,
Are, as the severall Atomes hold.
So Wit, and Vnderstanding in the Braine,
Are as the severall Atomes reigne:
And Dispositions good, or ill,
Are as the severall Atomes still.
And every Passion which doth rise,
Is as the severall Atomes lies.
Thus Sicknesse, Health, and Peace, and War;
Are alwaies as the severall Atomes are.

A warr with Atomes:

SOme factious Atomes will agree, combine,
They strive some form'd Body to unjoyne.
The Round beate out the Sharpe: the Long
The Flat do fight withall, thus all go wrong.
Those which make Motion Generall in their war,
By his direction they much stronger are.

Atomes and Motion fall out.

WHen Motion, and all Atomes disagree,
Thunder in Skies, and sicknesse in Men bee.
Earthquakes, and Windes which make disorder great,
Tis when that Motion all the Atomes beate.
In this confusion a horrid noise they make,
For Motion will not let them their right places take.
Like frighted Flocks of Sheepe together run,
Thus Motion like a Wolfe doth worry them.

The agreement of some kinde of Motion, with some kinde of Atomes.

SOme Motion with some Atomes well agree;
Fits them to places right, as just may bee.
By Motions helpe, they so strong joyne each to,
That hardly Motion shall againe undo.
Motions inconstancy oft gives such power
To Atomes, as they can Motion devoure.

Motion directs, while Atomes dance.

ATomes will dance, and measures keep just time;
And one by one will hold round circle line,
Run in and out, as we do dance the Hay;
Crossing about, yet keepe just time and way:
While Motion, as Musicke directs the Time:
Thus by consent, they altogether joyne.
This Harmony is Health, makes Life live long;
But when they're out, 'tis death, so dancing's done.

The difference of Atomes and Motion, in youth and age.

IN all things which are young, Motion is swift:
But moving long, is tir'd, and groweth stiff.
So Atomes are, in youth, more nimble, strong,
Then in old Age, but apt more to go wrong.
Thus Youth by false Notes and wrong Steps doth dye,
In Age Atomes, and Motion, weary downe do lye.
Motions Ease is Change, weary soone doth grow,
If in one Figure she doth often go.

Motion makes Atomes a Bawd for Figure.

DID not wild Motion with his subtle wit,
Make Atomes as his Bawd, new Formes to get.
They still would constant be in one Figure,
And as they place themselves, would last for ever.
[Page 20] But Motion she perswades new Formes to make,
[...] Motion doth in Change great pleasure take.
And makes all Atomes run from place to place;
That Figures young he might have to imbrace.
For some short time, she will make much of one,
But afterwards away from them will run.
And thus are most things in the World undone,
And by her Change, do young ones take old's roome.
But 'tis butt like unto a Batch of Bread,
The Floure is the same of such a Seed.
But Motion she a Figure new mould, bak'd,
Because that She might have a new hot Cake.

Motion and Figure.

A Figure Sphoeericall, the Motion's so,
Streight Figures in a darting Motion go:
As severall Figures in small Atomes bee,
So severall Motions are, if we could see.
If Atomes joyne, meet in another Forme,
Then Motion alters as the Figures turne.
For if the Bodies weighty are, and great,
Then Motion's slow, and goes upon lesse feet.
Out of a Shuttle-cocke a feather pull,
And flying strike it, as when it was full;
The Motion alters which belongs to that,
Although the Motion of the hand do not.
Yet Motion, Matter, can new Figures find,
And the Substantiall Figures turne and wind.
Thus severall Figures, severall Motions take,
And severall Motions, severall Figures make.
But Figure, Matter, Motion, all is one,
Can never separate, nor be alone.

Of the Subtlety of Motion.

COuld we the severall Motions of Life know,
The Subtle windings, and the waies they go:
We should adore God more, and not dispute,
How they are done, but that great God can doe't.
[Page 19] But we with Ignorance about do run,
To know the Ends, and how they first begun.
Spending that Life, which Natures God did give
Us to adore him, and his wonders with,
With fruitlesse, vaine, impossible pursuites,
In Schooles, Lectures, and quarrelling Disputes.
But never give him thanks that did us make,
Proudly, as petty Gods, ourselves do take.

Motion is the Life of all things.

AS Darknesse a privation is [...] Light;
That's when the Opticke Nerve is stopt from Light:
So Death is even a cessation in
Those Formes, and Bodies, wherein Motions spin.
As Light can only shine but in the Eye,
So Life doth only in a Motion lye.
Thus Life is out, when Motion leaves to bee,
Like to an Eye that's shut, no Light can see.

Of Vacuum.

SOme thinke the World would fall, and not hang so,
If it had any empty place to go.
One cannot thinke that Vacuum is so vast,
That the great World might in that Gulfe be cast.
But Vacuum like is to the Porous Skyn,
Where Vapour *
[...] do so.
goeth out, and Aire takes in:
And though that Vapour fills those places small,
We cannot thinke, but first were empty all:
For were they all first full, they could not make
Roome for succession, their places for to take.
But as those Atomes passe, and repasse through,
Yet still in empty places must they go.

Of the Motion of the Sea.

IF that the Sea the Earth doth run about,
It leaves a Space, where first the Tide went out.
For if the Water were as much as *
In compasse.
Land,
The Water would not stir, but still would stand.
[Page 20] Which shewes, that though the Water still goes round,
Yet is the Land more then the Water
In compasse.
found.
But say, the [...]
In compasse.
that's moveable without,
Which being thin, gives leave to run about.
Or like a Wheele, which Water
As water will make a wheele to go, so [...] makes water go.
makes to go,
So Aire may the Water make to flow.
But if that Aire hath not roome to move,
It cannot any other Body [...].
Besides what drives, must needs be stronger far,
Then what it drives, or [...] it would not stir.
If so, then [...] of strengths must be
In Motions power, to move Eternally.
But say, all things do run in Circles line,
And every part doth altogether joyne.
They cannot in each others places stir,
Unlesse some places were [...] empty bare.
For take a Wheele, circumference [...] without,
And Center too, it cannot [...] about.
If Breadth and Depth were full, leaving no
A crosse Moti­on [...] the Circular, if there be [...] space between. The world turns [...] two ima­ginary Poles, the Earth, upon one, the Hea­vens upon ano­ther; yet the Earth, nor the Heavens could not stir, [...] no [...]. [...] example, A wheel could not [...] round, if the [...] were prest [...] close, and the center on either side.
space,
Nothing can stir out of the selfe same place.

Ebbing and Flowing of the Sea.

THE Reason the Sea so constant Ebbs and Flowes,
Is like the [...] of a Clocke, which goes.
For when it comes just to the Notch, doth strike,
So water to that empty place doth like.
For when it Flowes, Water is cast out still,
And when it Ebbs, runs back that place to fill.

Vacuum in Atomes.

IF all the [...], Long, Sharpe, Flat, and [...],
Be onely of one fort of Matter [...]:
The Hollow Atomes must all empty be.
For there is nought to fill Vacuitie.
Besides being severall [...], though but small,
Betwixt those Bodies, there is nought at all.
For as they range about from place to place,
Betwixt their Bodies there is left a [...].
[Page 21] How should they move, having no space between?
For joyning close, they would as one Lumpe seem.
Nor could they move into each others place,
Unlesse there were somewhere an Empty space.
For though their Matter's infinite, as Time,
They must be fix'd, if altogether joyne.
And were all Matter fluid, as some say,
It could not move, having no empty way.
Like Water that is stopt close in a [...],
It cannot stir, having no way to passe.
Nor could the [...] swim in Water thin,
Were there no [...] to crowd those waters in.
For as they Crowd, those waters on heapes high
Must some waies rise to Place that empty lye.
For though the water's thin, wherein they move,
They could not stir, if water did not shove.

Of Contracting and Dilating, whereby Va­cuum must needs follow.

COntracting, and Dilating of each part,
It is the chiefest worke of Motions Art.
Yet Motion can't dilate, nor yet contract
A Body, which at first is close compact:
Unlesse at first an empty place was found,
To spread those Compact Bodies round.
Nor [...] matter can contract up close,
But by contracting it some place must lose.

The Attraction of the Earth.

THE reason Earth attracts much like the Sun,
Is, Atomes sharpe out from the Earth do come:
From the Circumference, those like Bees arise,
As from a Swarm, dispers'd, sevr'ally flyes.
And as they wander, meet with duller Formes,
Wherein they sticke their point, then backe returnes.
Yet like a Bee, which loaded is each Thigh,
Their weight is great, they cannot nimbly flye.
So when their points are loaded, heavy grow,
Can peirce no further, backward must they go.
[Page 22] And, as their Hives, to Earth returne againe:
Thus by their travell they the Earth maintaine.

The Attraction of the Sun.

WHen all those Atomes which in Rayes do spread,
And ranged long, like to a slender
I meane all Rayes in gene­rall, of all sorts [...] Atomes which move.
thread:
They do not seatter'd flye, but joyne in length,
And being joyn'd, though small, add to their strength.
The further forth they streame, more weake [...],
Although those Beames
The Suns Rayes.
are fastened to the [...].
For all those Rayes which Motion sends downe low,
Are, loose, sharp Atomes, from the Sun do flow.
And as they flow in severall Streames, and Rayes,
They sticke their points in all that stop their waies.
Like Needle points, whereon doth something sticke,
No passage make, having no points to pricke.
Thus being stop'd, strait-waies they backe do run,
Drawing those Bodies with them to the Sun.

The cause of the breaking of the Suns Beames.

IF Porous Atomes by the Sharpe are found,
They're borne on points away, as Prisoners bound:
But as they mount, Atomes of their owne kinde,
If chance to meet, strait helpe them to unbinde.
For Porous Atomes being soft and wet,
When Numbers meet, they close together get:
And being glut, they joyne together all,
By one consent they pull, so backe do fall.
If they be round, in showring Drops returne,
Like Beads that are upon a long thread strunge.
But if their Figures different be from those,
Then like a thicke and foggy mist it shewes.

Of the Rayes of the Sun.

THE Rayes are not so hot, as is the Sun,
Because they are united strong to [...].
[Page 21] But with a Glasse those scatter'd Beames draw in,
When they're united, peirce through every
Concaves draw to a cen­ter.
thing.
But being separate, they weake become,
And then like Cowards sev'rall waies they run.

Of the Beames of the Sun.

THose Splendent Beames which forth the Sun doth spread
Are loose sharpe Atomes, ranged long like Thread.
And as they streame, if Porous bodies meet,
Sticke in their Points; to us that [...] is heat.

The Sun doth set the Aire on a light, as some Opinions hold.

IF that the Sun so like a Candle is,
That all the Aire doth take a Light from his;
Not from Reflexion, but by kindling all
That part, which we our Hemispheare do call:
Then should that Aire whereon his Light takes place,
Be never out, unlesse that Substance waste:
Unlesse the Sun Extinguishers should throw,
Upon the Aire, so out the Light doth go.
But sure the Suns reflexion gives the Light,
[...] Atomes shine but sharp Atomes.
For when he's gone, to us it is darke Night.
For why, the Sun is Atomes sharpe entire,
Being close wedg'd round,
It seems like a burning coal.
is like a wheele of Fire.
And round that Wheele continually do flow
Sharpe streaming Atomes, which like Flame do shew.
And in this Flame
Long A­tomes sharp at each end.
the Earth its face doth see,
As in a Glasse, as cleere, as cleere may bee.
And when the Earth doth turne aside his face,
It is not seene, but Darknesse in that
That part of the Earth is darke which is from the Sun.
place.
Or when the Moone doth come betwixt that Light,
Then is the Earth shut up
To that part of the Earth the Moone hides.
as in darke Night.

What Atomes the Sun is made of.

THE Sun is of the sharpest Atomes made,
Close knit together, and exactly laid.
[Page 24] The Fabricke like a Wheele is just made round,
And in the midst of all, the Planets found.
And as the Planets move about the Sun,
Their Motions make the loose sharpe Atomes run.

Of Vapour.

LOose Atomes sharpe, which Motion shoots about,
Sticke on loose Porous Atomes, those draw out.
From those more close, for these do highest lye,
Thus Vapour's drawne toward the Region high.
But being their weight is equall with their owne,
They let them fall to Earth, so backe returne.

Of Dewes, and Mists from the Earth.

SOme Atomes sharpe thrust from the Earth some Round,
And then a Pearled dew lies on the ground.
But if they beare them on their sharpe points high,
Those being rais'd, a Mist seemes to the Eye.
On the Circumference of the Earth there lies
The loosest Atomes, which are apt to rise;
Yet not to mount so high as to the Sun,
For being dull, they becke to Earth returne:
As water, which is shov'd with force of strength,
Is not so apt to move, as run at length.

The Attraction of the Poles, and of Frost.

THE North and South Attracts, Contracts, are like the Sun,
They freeze as hard, as he with Heate doth burne.
For Atomes there are like to Pincers small,
By which they
At the Poles.
draw, and others pull withall.
When Motion from the Poles shoots them about,
Mixing with Porous bodies when they're out:
And with those Pincers small those Bodies nip,
So close and hard, they cannot from them get;
Unlesse that fiery Atomes sharpe do peirce
Betwixt those Pincers small, so do release.
[Page 25] Those Porous Atomes, like an Aule that bores;
Or like a Picklocke, which doth open doors.
For when they're opened by those fiery Aules,
Let go their holds, which Men a Thaw strait calls.
If not, they pinch those Bodies close together,
Then men do say, it is hard Frosty weather.

Quenching out of Fire.

THE Atomes round, tis not their Numbers great
Round Atomes are water. Sharp Atomes.
That put out Fire, quenching both Light and Heate.
But being wet, they loosen, and unbinde,
Those sharpe dry Atomes, which together joyn'd.
For when they are dispers'd, their power's but small,
Nor give they Light, nor Heate, if single all.
Besides those Atomes sharpe will smother'd be,
Having no vent, nor yet Vacuity.
For if that Fire in a place lies close,
Having no vent, but stop'd, it strait out goes.
By Gone, [...] [...] Motion ceases.
There is no better Argument, to prove
That Vacuum is, then to see Fire move.
Their Forme doth not dis­solve [...] at their Death.
For if that Fire had not Liberty
To run about, how quickly would it dye?

Quenching, and Smothering out of Heat, and Light, doth not change the Property, nor Shape of sharpe Atomes.

TIS not, that Atomes sharpe do change their Forme,
When Heat and Flame is out, but Motion's gone:
When Motion's gone, sharpe Atomes cannot pricke,
Having no force
Life is such kinde of Motion as sharp Atomes.
in any thing to sticke.
For if the Sun quicke Motion mov'd it not,
T'would neither shine, nor be to us so hot.
Just so, when Creatures dye, change not their Forme,
That kinde of Motion, which made Life, is gone.
That is, when they are sepa­rated, or their Motion [...], and though e­very Figure hath [...] Motions [...] to their Shape, yet they do not move al­waies alike, [...] they have one kinde of Moti­on singly, and another kinde when they are united, but when they are mixt with other Figures, their Motion [...] ac­cording to their severall mix­tures.
For Animall Spirits, which we Life do call,
Are onely of the sharpest Atomes small.
Thus Life is Atomes sharpe, which we call Fire,
When those are stopt, or quench'd, Life doth expire.

Of a Sparke of Fire.

A Sparke of Fire, is like a Mouse,
The sharpe Atomes are like the Teeth of Mice.
doth eate
Into a Cheese, although both hard, and great.
Just so a Sparke, although it be but small,
If once those Points can fasten, peirce through all.

Of a Coale.

WHY that a Coale should set an house on Fire,
Is, Atomes sharpe are in that Coale entire.
Being strong arm'd with Points, do quite peirce through;
Those flat dull Atomes, and their Formes
Not the form of the Atomes, but the forme of their Set­tlement.
undo.
And Atomes sharpe, whose Forme is made for [...],
If loose, do run to helpe the rest in fight.
For like as Souldiers,
[...], loose Atomes, which we per­ceive not, doe run to those which are uni­ted in the Coale.
which are of one side,
When they [...] Friends ingag'd, to rescue ride.
But Atomes flat where Motion is but slow,
They cannot fight, but strait to Ashes go.

Of Ashes.

BUrnt wood is like unto an Army's rout,
Wood is made most of flat A­tomes.
Their Formes undone, [...] [...] all about.
When Atomes sharpe, fat Atomes unbinde all,
Those loose flat Atomes, we strait Ashes call.
For severall Formes are according to the [...] of Atomes, which Formes are undone still by the strongest party.

The Increasing, and Decreasing of visible Fire.

WHen Fuel's kindled, Fire seemes but small,
That Fuell afterward doth seem Fire all.
Just like a Crow, that on a dead Horse lights;
When other Crowes perceiving in their flights,
They strait invite themselves unto that Feast,
When there is no Sub­stance left for sharp Atomes to worke upon, they disperse, for they seek to undo the com­posure of all other Atomes.
And thus from one, to Numbers are increas'd.
So Atomes sharpe, which singly flye about,
Joyne with the rest, to eate the Fuell out.
And, as the Fuell doth increase, do they,
And as it wasts, so do they flye away.

The Power of Fire.

FIre such power hath of every thing,
As like to Needle points that peirce the Skyn.
So doth that Element peirce into all,
Bee't nere so hard, strong, thicke, or Solid Ball.
All things it doth dissolve, or bow, or breake,
Keeping its strength, by making others weake.

Of Burning.

THE cause why Fire doth burne, and burning smarts,
The reason is of Numerous little parts.
Which parts are Atomes sharpe, that wound like Stings,
If they so far do peirce into our Skyns;
And like an angry Porcupine, doth shoot
His fiery Quils, if nothing quench them out.
Their Figure makes their Motion sudden, quicke,
And being sharpe, they do like Needles pricke.
If they peirce deep, *
When it [...].
do make our flesh to ake,
If only touch *
Warmth.
the skyn, we pleasure take.
That kinde of paine, do we a Burning call:
For Atomes numerous, and very small,
Do make from Needles point a different touch,
Whose points are grosse, and Numbers not so much;
Which cannot lye so close, and spread so thin,
All at one time our Pores to enter in.

The Reason VVater quenches Fire.

THE Reason Water Fire quenches out,
Is, Atomes
They separate the sharp A­tomes.
round the sharpe put to a rout.
For when a House is on a Fire set,
Is, Atomes sharpe do in great Armies meet.
And then they range themselves in Ranks and Files,
And strive alwaies [...] havocke, and make spoiles.
Running about as nimble as may bee,
When Water is throwne on Fire.
From side to side, as in great Fire we see.
But Atomes round do like a rescue
When Water is throwne on Fire.
come,
And separate the sharpe, which in heapes run,
[Page 28] For being seperate, they have no force;
Like to a Troope, or Regiment of Horse:
Which when great Canon bullets are shot through,
They disunite, and quite their strength undo.
So water, that is throwne on flaming Fire,
Doth separate, and make that strength expire.

Of the sound of VVaters, Aire, Flame, more then Earth, or Aire without Flame.

WHen Crowds of Atomes meet, not joyned close,
By Motion quicke do give
The encoun­ters of Bodies make all Sound.
each other blowes.
So Atomes hollow which are Long, and Round,
When they do strike, do make the greatest sound:
Not that there's any thing that moves therein,
To make Rebounds, but that their Forme's more thin.
Long, and round Atomes are more thin theu flat, or sharpe, by rea­son they are more hollow : and their hol­lowness makes their Bulk blg­ger, though not their weight heavier.
For being thin, they larger are, and wide,
Which make them apt to strike each others side.
In larger Bulks encounters are more fierce,
When that they strike, though not so quicke to pierce.
This is the reason Water, Aire, and Flame,
Do make most noise, when Motions move the same.
For Atomes loose are like to people rude,
Make horrid noise, when in a Multitude.

The reason of the Roaring of the Sea.

ALL Waters Sphaericall, when [...] do flow,
Beat all those sphaericall Drops as they do go.
So [...] do strike those watry drops together,
Which we at Sea do call Tempestuòus weather:
And being shpaericall, and Cymball like,
They make a sound, when each 'gainst other strike.

The Agilenesse of VVater.

WAter is apt to move, being round like Balls,
No points to fixe, doth trundle as it falls.
This makes the Sea, when like great Mountaines high
The waves do rise, it steddy cannot lye.
[Page 29] But falls againe into a Liquid Plaine,
[...], Winds disturbe them not, levell remaine.
Thus watry Balls they do not [...],
But sticke
Those Drops ioyning close and even.
so close, as nothing is betwixt.

Of the Center.

IN Infinites no Center can be laid,
But if the
[...] there be Infinites of Worlds; then there may be in­siuites of Cen­ters, although not a Center in [...].
World has Limits, Center's made.
For whatsoe're's with Circumference fac'd,
A Center in the midst must needs be plac'd.
This makes all Formes that Limit have; and Bound,
To have a Center, and Circumference round.
This is the Cause; the World in circle runs,
Because a Center hath whereon it turnes.
The Center small, Circumference big without,
Which by the weight doth [...] it turne about.

All sharpe Atomes do run to the Center, and those that settle not, by reason of the straitnesse of the Place, flye out to the Circumference. Sharpe Atomes to the Center, make a Sun.

ALL Atomes sharpe to every Center flye,
In midst of Earth, and midst of Planets lye;
And in
The Sun in the midst of the [...], which are sharpe A­tomes.
those Planets there are Centers too,
Where the sharpe Atomes with quicke Motion go.
And to the Center of the Earth they run,
There gathering close, and so become a Sun.
This is the Axe whereon the Earth turnes round,
And gives the heat which in the Earth is found;
A World of Fire: thus may we guesse the Sun;
If all sharpe Atomes to the Center run.
For why, the Sun amongst the Planets round,
Iust as a Center, in the midst is found.
And [...] Stars, which give a twinckling Light,
Are Center Worlds of Fire, that shineth bright.

In the Center Atomes never Separate.

JUst at the Center is a point that's small,
Those Atomes that are there are wedg'd in all;
They lye so close, firme in one Body binde,
No other [...], or Motion can un Winde:
For they are wreath'd so hard about that point,
As they become a Circle without joynt. *
As it were without parti­tion, but it is but one.

If Infinite VVorlds, Infinite Centers.

IF Infinites of Worlds, they must be plac'd
At such a distance, as between lies waste.
If they were joyned close, moving about,
By justling they would push each other out.
And if they swim in Aire, as Fishes do
In Water, they would meet *
They would beat against each other.
as they did go.
But if the Aire each World doth inclose
Them all about, then like to Water flowes;
Keeping them equall, and in order right.
That as they move, shall not each other strike.
Or like to water wheels by water turn'd,
So Aire round about those Worlds do run:
And by that Motion they do turne about,
No further then that Motions strength runs out.
They are [...] according to the severall strengths of their motion. They turne as they go.
Like to a Bowle, which will no further go,
But runs according as that strength do throw.
Thus like as Bowles, the Worlds do turne, and run,
But still the Jacke, and Center is the * Sun.
A Jack Bowle is the marke.

The Infinites of Matter.

IF all the World were a confused heape,
What was beyond? for this World is not great:
We finde it Limit hath, and Bound,
And like a Ball in compasse is made round:
And if that Matter, with which the World's made,
Be Infinite, then more Worlds may be said;
Then Infinites of Worlds may we agree,
As well, as Infinites of Matters bee.

A World made by foure Atomes.

SHarpe Atomes Fire subtle, quicke, and dry,
The Long, like Shafts still into Aìre fly.
The Round to Water moist, (a hollow Forme,)
The Figure square to heavy dull Earth turne.
The Atomes sharpe hard Mineralls do make,
The Atomes round soft Vegetables take.
In Animals none singly lye alone,
But the foure Atomes meet, and joyne as one.
And thus foure Atomes the Substance is of all;
With their foure Figures make a worldly Ball.

Thus the Fancy of my Atomes is, that the foure Principall Figures, as Sharpe, Long, Round, Square, make the foure Elements; not that they are of severall matters, but are all of * The severall Elements are at but one mat­ter.one matter, onely their se­verall Figures do give them severall Proprieties; so likewise do the mixt Figures give them mixt Proprieties, & their several composures do give them other Proprieties, according to their Formes they put themselves into, by their severall Motions. This I do repeate, that the ground of my Opinion may be understood.

Of Elements.

SOme hold foure perfect Elements there bee,
Which do surmount each other by degree.
And some Opinions thinke that One is all,
The rest from that, and to that One shall fall:
This single Element it selfe to turne
To severall qualities, as Fire to burne.
So water moist, that heate to quench, and then
To subtle Aire, and so to Earth agen.
Like [...] water, which turnes with the Cold,
To Flakes of Snow, or in firme Ice to hold.
But that Heate doth melt that Icy Chaine,
Then into water doth it turne againe.
So from the Earth a Vapour thicke ascends,
That Vapour thicke it selfe to thin Aire spends;
Or else it will condense it selfe to Raine,
And by its weight will fall to Earth againe.
[Page 32] And what is very thin, so subtle growes,
As it turnes Fire, and so a bright flame shewes.
And what is dull, or heavy, flow to move;
Of a cold quality it oft doth prove.
Thus by contracting, and dilating parts,
Is all the skill of Natures working Arts.

Fire compared to Stings.

NOthing is so like Fire, as a Flies Sting,
If we compare th' effect which both do bring.
For when they sting the flesh, they no blood draw,
But blisters raise, the Skin made red, the Flesh raw.
Were there as many Stings, as Fiery Atomes small,
Would peirce into the Flesh, Bones turne to Ashes all.
Thus we finde Flies do carry every where
Fire in their Tailes, their Breech they do not feare.

Comparing Flame to the Tide of the Sea.

LIke [...] 'Iides, a Flame will ebb and flow,
By sinking downe, and then strait higher grow.
And if supprest, all in a rage breakeout,
Streaming it selfe in severall parts about.
Some thinke the Salt doth make the Sea to move,
If so, then Salt in Flame the like may prove.
From that Example, Salt all Motions makes,
Then Life the chiefe of Motion from Salt takes.

What is Liquid

WEE cannot call all Liquid which doth flow,
For then a Flame may turne to water so.
But that is Liquid, which is moist, and wet,
Fire that Propriety can never get.
Then 'tis not Cold, that puts the Fire out,
But 'tis the Wet that makes it dye, no doubt.

Fire and moisture.

IF Hay be not quite dry, but stackt up wet,
In time that Moisture will a Fire beget.
[Page 33] This proves that Fire may from Moisture grow,
We proofe have none, Moisture from Fire flow.
This shewes that Fire in its selfe is free,
No other Element in it can bee.
For Fire is pure still, and keeps the same,
Where oyly Moisture's not, no Fire can flame.

Aire begot of Heate and Moisture.

HEate, and Moisture joyn'd with equall merit,
Get a Body thin 'of Aire, or Spirit;
Which is a Sinoake, or Steame begot from both,
If Mother Moisture rule, 'tis full of sloth.
If the Father Fire predominates,
Then it is active, quicke, and Elevates.
This Aiery Childe is sometimes good, or bad,
According to the nourishment it had.

The Temper of the Earth.

THE Earth we finde is very cold, and dry;
And must therefore have Fire and water night,
To wash and bath, then dry her selfe without,
Else she would uselesse be without all doubt.

Winds are made in the Aire, not in the Earth.

HOW can we thinke Winds come from Earth below,
When they from Skye do downe upon us blow?
If they proceeded from the Earth, must run
Strait up, and upon Earth againe backe come:
They cannot freely blow, least Earth were made
Like to a Bowling-Greene, so levell laid.
But there are Rocks, and Hills, and Mountaines great,
Which stop their waies, and make them soone retreat.
Then sure it is, the Sun drawes Vapour out,
And [...] it thin, then blow'th 't about.
If Heat condens'd, that turnes it into Raine,
And by its weight falls to the Earth againe.
Thus Moisture and the Sun do cause the Winds,
And not the Cradities in hollow Mines.

Thunder is a Wind in the middle Region.

WHO knowes, but Thunders are great Winds, which lye
Within the middle vault above the Skye:
Which Winde the Sun on Moisture cold begot,
When he is in his Region Cancer hot.
This *
The Wind.
Childe is thin, and subtle, made by hear,
It gets a voice, and makes a noise that's great:
It's Thinnesse makes it agile, agile strong,
Which by its force doth drive the Clouds along.
And when the Clouds do meet, they each do strike,
Flashing out Fire, as do Flints the like.
Thus in the Summer Thunder's caus'd by Wind,
Vapour drawne so high, no way out can find.
But in the Winter, when the Clouds are loose,
Then doth the Wind on Earth keep Rendezvous.

Of cold VVinds.

AS rarified water makes Winds blow,
So rarified Winds do colder grow.
For if they thin are rarified, then they
Do further blow, aud spread out every way.
So cold they are, and sharpe as Needle points,
For by the thinnesse breaks, and disunites;
Into such Atomes fall, Sharpe Figures bee,
Which Porous Bodies peirce, if we could see.
Yet some will thinke, if Aire were parted so,
The Winds could not have such strong force to blow.
Tis true, if Atomes all were [...] and Flat,
Or Round like Rings, they could not peirce, but pat;
But by themselves they do so sharpe become,
That through all Porous Bodies they do run.
But when the Winds are soft, they intermixe,
As water doth, and in one Body fixe.
More like they wave, then blow as Fanns are spread,
Which Ladies use to coole their Cheeks, when red.
As water Drops feele harder when they [...],
Then when they're [...], and on us light;
[Page 35] Unlesse such streames upon our heads downe runne,
As we a Shelter seeke the Wet to shun.
But when a Drop congealed is with Cold,
As Haile-stones are, more strength thereby doth hold.
Then Flakes of Snow may have more quantity,
Then Haile-stones, yet not have more force thereby.
They fall so soft, they scarce do strike our Touch,
Haile-stones we feele, and know their weight too much.
But Figures that are Flat, are dull, and slow,
Make weake Impression wheresoe're they go.
For let ten times the quantity of Steele
Be beaten thin, no hurt by that you'le feele.
But if that one will take a Needle small,
The Point be Sharpe, and presse the Flesh withall;
Strait it shall hurt, and put the Flesh to paine,
Which with more strength that shall not do, that's plaine.
Although you presse it hard against the Skin,
May heavy feele, but shall not enter in.
So may the Wind that's thinly rarified,
Presse us downe, but it shall not peirce the side.
Or take a Blade that's flat, though strong and great,
And with great strength upon the Head that beat;
The skull may breake, seldome knocke out the Braines,
Which Arrowes sharpe soone do, and with lesse paines.
Thus what is small, more subtle is, and quicke,
For all that's small in Porous Bodies sticke.
Then are the Winds more cold when they do blow,
Broke into Atomes small, then streaming flow:
For all which knit, and closely do compose,
Much stronger are, and give the harder Blowes.
This shewes what's neerest absolute to bee,
Although an [...] to its small degree:
Take quantity, for quantity alike.
Vnion more then Mixture hard shall strike.

Of Stars.

WEE finde in the East-Indies Stars there bee,
Which we in our Horizon did nere fee;
Yet we do take great paines in Glasses cleere,
To see what Stars do in the Skie appeare;
[Page 36] But yet the more we search, the lesse we know,
Because we finde our Worke doth endlesse grow.
For who doth know, but Stars we see by Night,
Are Suns wich to some other Worlds give Light?
But could our outward Senses pace the Skie,
As well as can Imaginations high;
If we were there, as little may we know,
As those which stay, and never do up go.
Then let not Man, in fruitlesse paines Life spend,
The most we know, is, Nature Death will send.

Of the Motion of the Sun.

SOmetimes we finde it Hot, and sometimes Cold,
Yet equall in Degrees the Sun doth hold:
And in a Winters day more Heate have found,
Then Summer, when the Sun should parch the Ground.
For if this heate doth make him gallop fast,
Must ever equall be, or stay his haste.
If so, then Seas which send a Vapour high,
May coole his Courage, so in the mid way lye.
Besides, the middle Region which is cold,
And full of Ice, will of his strength take hold.
Then tis not heat that makes him run so fast,
But running fast, doth heat upon Earth cast;
And Earth sends Vapours cold, to quench his beate,
Which breake his strength, and make his Beames so weake.

Of the Suns weaknesse.

THE Sun doth not unto the Center go,
He cannot shoot his Beames so deep and low.
For, a thicke Wall will breake his Arrowes small,
So that his heate can do no hurt at all;
And Earth hath Armes so thicke, to keepe out all
His cry Darts, which he on her lets fall.

A Fire in the Center.

AS Heate about the Heart alwaies keeps nigh.
So doth a Fire about the Center lye.
[Page 37] This heate disperses through the Body round,
And when that heate is not, no Life is found.
Which makes all things she sends, to bud, and beare,
Although the Suns hot Beames do ne're come there.
But yet the Sun doth nourish all without,
But Fire within the Earth gives Life, no doubt.
So heate within begets with Childe the Earth,
And heate without is Mid-wise to her Birth.

The Sun is Nurse to all, the Earth beares.

THough the Earth to all gives Forme, and Feature,
Yet the Sun is Nurse to every Creature.
For long she could not live without his Heate,
Which is the nourishing, and ripening Meate.
Just as a Childe is got, and born of Man,
It must be fed, or't will soone dye agen.

What makes Eccho.

THE same Motion, which from the Mouth doth move,
Runs through the Aire; which we by Eccho prove.
As severall Letters do a word up-joyne,
So severall Figures through the Aire combine.
The Aire is waxe, words Seale, and give the Print,
Those words an Eccho in the Aire do [...]!
And while those Figures last, Life domaintaine;
When Motion weares it out, is Eccho slaine.
As Sugar in the Mouth doth melt, and taste,
So Eccho in the Aire it selfe doth waste.

Of Rebounds.

REbounds resisting substance must worke on,
Both in its selfe, and what it beates upon.
For yeilding [...], which do bow, or breake,
Can ne're Rebound, [...] [...] like [...] speake.
Then every word of Aire formes a Ball,
And every Letter like a [...] doth fall.
Words are condensed Aire, which heard, do grow
As water, which by Cold doth turne to Snow.
[Page 38] And as when Snow is pres'd, hard Balls become,
So words being pres'd, as Balls do backward run.

Of Sound:

A Sound seemes nothing, yet a while doth live,
And like a wanton Lad, mocke-Answers give.
Not like to Soules, which from the Body go,
For Eccho hath a Body of Aire we know.
Yet strange it is, that Sound so strong and cleere,
Resisting Bodies have, yet not appeare;
But Aire which subtle is, encounter may.
Thus words a Sound may with selfe Eccho play;
Grow weary soone, and cannot hold out long,
Seemes out of breath, and faulter with the Tongue.

Of Shadow, and Eccho.

A Shadow fell in love with the bright Light,
Which makes her walke perpetually in her sight;
And when He's absent, then poore Soule she dyes,
But when He shewes himselfe, her Life revives.
She Sister is to Eccho loud, and cleere,
Whose voice is heard, but no Body appeare:
She hates to see, or shew her selfe to men,
Unlesse Narcissus could live once agen.
But these two Soules, for they no Bodies have,
Do wander in the Aire to seeke a Grave.
Silence would bury on the other Night,
Both are denied by Reflections spight;
And each of these are subject to the Sense,
One strikes the Eare, Shadow the Eye presents.

Of Light.

SOme thinke no Light would be without the Eye,
Tis true, a Light our Braine could not descry;
And if the Eye makes Light, and not the Sun,
As well our Touch may make the Fire to burne.

Of Light, and Sight.

PHilosophers, which thought to reason well,
Say, Light, and Colour, in the Braine do dwell;
That Motion in the Braine doth Light beget,
And if no Braine, the World in darknesse Shut.
Provided that the Braine hath Eyes to see,
So Eyes, and Braine, do make the Light to [...].
If so, poore Donne was out, when he did say,
If all the World were blind, 'twould still be day.
Say they, Light would not in the Aire reigne,
Unlesse (youle grant) the World were one great Braine.
Some Ages in Opinion all agree,
The next doth strive to make them salse to be.
But what is, doth please so well the Sense,
That Reasons old are though to be Non-sense
But all Opinions are by Fancy fed,
And Truth under Opinions lieth dead.

The Objects of every Sense, are accor­ding to their Motions in the Braine.

WEE mad should thinke those Men, if they should tell
That they did see a Sound, or tast a Smell.
Yet Reason proves a Man doth not erre much,
When that we say his senses all are Touch.
If Actions in a Table be lively told,
The Braine strait thinks the Eye the same behold.
The Stomacke Hungry, the Nose good Meat doth smell,
The Braine doth thinke that Smell the Tongue tasts well.
If we a Theese do see, and him do feare,
We strait do thinke that breaking Doors we heare.
Imaginations just like Motions make,
That every Sense doth strike with the mistake.

According as the Notes in Musicke agree with the Motions of the Heart, or Braine, Such Passions are produced thereby.

IN Musicke, if the Eighths tun'd Equall are,
If one be strucke, the other seemes to jarre.
So the Heart-strings, if equally be stretch'd,
To those of Musick, Love from thence is fetch'd.
For when one's strucke, the other moves just so,
And with Delight as evenly doth go.

The Motion of Thoughts.

Musing alone, mine Eyes being fixt
Upon the Cround, my Sight with Gravell mixt:
My Feet did walke without Directions Guide,
My Thoughts did travell farre, and wander wide;
At last they chanc'd up to a Hill to climbe,
And being there, saw things that were Divine.
First, what they saw, a glorious Light to blaze,
Whose Splendor made it painfull for the Gaze:
No Separations, nor Shadowes by stops made,
No Darknesse to obstruct this Light with Shade.
This Light had no Dimension, nor Extent,
But fil'd all places full, without Circumvent;
Alwaies in Motion, yet fixt did prove,
Like to the Twinkling Stars which never move.
This Motion working, running severall waies,
Did seeme a Contradiction for to raise;
As to it selfe, with it selfe disagree,
Is like a Skeine of Thread, if't knotted bee.
For some did go strait in an even Line,
But some againe did crosse, and some did twine.
Yet at the last, all severall Motions run
Into the first Prime Motion which begun.
In various Formes and Shapes did Life run through,
Life from Eternity, but Shapes still new;
No sooner made, but quickly pass'd away,
Yet while they were, desirous were to stay.
[Page 41] But Motion to one [...] can nere constant be,
For Life, which Motion is, joyes in varietie.
For the first Motion every thing can make,
But cannot add unto it selfe, nor take.
Indeed no other Matter could it frame,
It selfe was all, and in it selfe the same.
Perceiving now this fixed point of Light,
To be a Vnion, Knowledge, Power, and Might;
Wisdome, Justice, Truth, Providence, all one,
No Attribute is with it selfe alone.
Not like to severall Lines drawne to one Point,
For what doth meet, may separate, [...].
But this a Point, from whence all Lines do flow,
Nought can diminish it, or make it grow.
Tis its owne Center, and Circumference ro und.
Yet neither has a Limit, or a Bound.
A fixt Eternity, and so will last,
All present is, nothing to come, or past.
A fixt Persection nothing can add more,
All things is It, and It selfe doth adore.
My Thoughts then wondring at what they did see,
Found at the last
All things come from God Almighty.
themselves the same to bee;
Yet was so small a Branch, perceive could not,
From whence they Sprung, or which waies were begot.
Some say, all that we know of Heaven above,
Is that we joye, and that we love.
Who can tell that? for all we know,
Those Passions we call Joy, and Love below,
May, by Excesse, such other Passions grow,
None in the World is capable to know.
Just like our Bodies, though that they shall rise,
And as St. Paul faies, see God with our Eyes;
Yet may we in the Change such difference find,
Both in our Bodies, and also in our Mind,
As if that we were never of Mankind,
And that these Eyes we see with now, were blind.
Say we can measure all the Planets high,
And number all the Stars be in the Skie;
And Circle could we all the World about,
And all th' Effects of Nature could finde out:
[Page 42] Yet cannot all tho Wise, and Learned tell,
Whats done in Heaven, or how we there shall dwell.

The Reason why the Thoughts are one­ly in the Head.

THE Sinewes are small, slender Strings,
Which to the Body Senses brings;
Yet like to Pipes, or Gutters, hollow be,
Where Animall Spirits run continually.
Though they are small, such Matter do containe,
As in the Skull doth lye, which we call Braine.
That makes, if any one doth strike the Heele,
The Thought of that, Sense in the Braine doth feele.
Yet tis not Sympathy, but tis the same
Which makes us thinke, and feele the paine.
For had the Heele such quantity of Braine,
Which doth the Head, and Skull therein containe;
Then would such Thoughts, wich in the Braine dwell high,
Descend downe low, and in the Heele would lye.
In Sinewes small, Braine scatter'dlyes about,
It wants both roome, and quantity no doubt.
For if a Sinew could so much Eraine hold,
Or had a Skin so large for to infold,
As in the Skull, then might the Toe, or Knee,
Had they an Opticke Nerve, both heare and see.
Had Sinewes roome, Fancy therein to breed,
Copies of Verses might from the Heele proceed.

The Motion of the Blood.

Some by Industry of Learning found,
That all the Blood like to the Sea runs round:
From two great Arteries the Blood it runs
Through all the Veines, to the same backe comes.
The Muscles like the Tides do ebb, and flow,
According as the severall Spirits go.
The Sinewes, as finall Pipes, come from the Head,
And all about the Body they are spread;
Through which the Animall Spirits are conveyed,
To every Member, as the Pipes are laid.
[Page 43] And from those Sinewes Pipes each Sense doth take
Of those Pure Spirits, as they us do make.
TIs thought, an [...] Matter comes from the Sun
In streaming Beames, which Earth doth feed upon:
And that the Earth by those Beames backe doth send
A Nourishment to the Sun, her good Friend.
So every Beame the Sun doth make a Chaine,
To send to Earth, and to draw backe againe.
But every Beame is like a blazing Ship,
The Sun doth trafficke to the Earth in it.
Each Ship is fraught with heat, through Aire it swims,
As to the Earth warme Nourishment it brings:
And Vapour moist, Earth for that warmth returnes,
And sends it in those Ships backe to the Sun.
Great danger is, if Ships
When the Sun draws up more Moisture then it can digest, it turns to Raine, or wind.
be over-fraught,
For many times they sincke with their owne weight;
And those gilt Ships such Fate they often find,
They sincke with too much weight, or split with Wind.

It is hard to beleive, that there are other VVorlds in this VVorld.

NOthing so hard in Nature, as Faith is,
For to beleive Impossibilities:
As doth impossible to us appeare,
Not 'cause
As it seems to us.
'tis not, but to our Sense not [...];
But that we cannot in our Reason finde,
As being against Natures Course, and Kinde.
For many things our Senses dull may scape,
For Sense is grosse, not every thing can Shape.
So in this World another World may bee,
That we do neither touch, tast, smell, heare, see.
What Eye so cleere is, yet did ever see
Those little Hookes, that in the Load-stone bee,
Which draw hard Iron? or give Reasons, why
The Needles point still in the North will lye.
As for Example, Atomes in the Aire,
We nere perceive, although the Light be faire.
[Page 44] And whatsoever can a Body claime,
Though nere so small, Life may be in the same.
And what has Life, may Vnderstanding have,
Yet be to us as buried in the Grave.
Then probably may Men, and [...] small,
Live in the World which wee know not at all;
May build them Houses, severall things may make,
Have Orchards, Gardens, where they pleasure take;
And Birds which sing, and Cattell in the Feild,
May plow, and sow, and there small Corne may yeild;
And Common-wealths may have, and Kings to [...],
Wars, Battells have, and one another slaine:
And all without our hearing, or our sight,
Nor yet in any of our Senses light.
And other Stars, and Moones, and Suns may be,
Which our dull Eyes shall never come to see.
But we are apt to laugh at Tales so told,
Thus Senses grosse do back our Reason hold.
Things against Nature we do thinke are true,
That Spirits change, and can take Bodies new;
That Life may be, yet in no Body live,
For which no Sense, [...] Reason, we can give.
As Incorporeall Spirits this Fancy faines,
Yet Fancy cannot be without some Braines.
If Fancy without Substance cannot bee,
Then Soules are more, then Reason well can see.

Of many VVorlds in this VVorld.

JUST like unto a [...] of Boxes round,
Degrees of sizes within each Boxe are found.
So in this World, may many Worlds more be,
Thinner, and lesse, and lesse still by degree;
Although they are not subject to our Sense,
A World may be no bigger then two-pence.
Nature is curious, and such works may make,
That our dull Sense can never finde, but seape.
For Creatures, small as Atomes, may be there,
If every Atome a Creatures Figure beare.
[Page 45] If foure Atomes a World can make,
As I have before [...] they do, it. [...] Atomes.
then see,
What severall Worlds might in an Eare-ring bee.
For Millions of these Atomes may bee in
The Head of one small, little, single Pin.
And if thus small, then Ladies well may weare
A World of Worlds, as Pendents in each Eare.

A VVorld in an Eare-Ring.

AN Eare-ring round may well a Zodiacke bee,
Where in a Sun goeth round, and we not see.
And Planets seven about that Stin may move,
And Hee stand still, as some wise men would prove.
And sixed Stars, like twinkling Diamonds, plac'd
About this Eare-ring, which a World is vast.
That same which doth the Eare-ring hold, the hole,
Is that, which we do call the Pole.
There nipping Frosts may be, and VVinter cold,
Yet never on the Ladies Eare take hold.
And Lightnings, Thunder, and great VVinds may blow
Within this Eare-ring, yet the Eare not know.
There Seas may ebb, and [...], where Fishes swim,
And Islands be, where Spices grow therein.
There Christall Rocks hang dangling at each Eare,
And Golden Mines as Jewels may they weare.
There Earth-quakes be, which Mountaines vast downe sling,
And yet nere stir the Ladies Eare, nor Ring.
There Meadowes bee, and [...] fresh, and greene,
And Cattell feed, and yet be never seene:
And Gardens fresh, and Birds which sweetly sing,
Although we heare them not in an Eare-ring.
There Night, and Day, and Heat, and Cold, and so
May Life, and Death, and Toung, and Old, still grow.
Thus Touth may spring, and severall Ages dye,
Great Plagues may be, and no Infections nigh.
There Cityes bee, and stately Houses built,
Their inside gaye, and finely may be gilt.
There Churches bee, and Priests to teach therein,
And Steeple too, yet heare the Bells not ring.
[Page 46] From thence may Pious Teares to Heaven run,
And yet the Eare not know which way they're gone.
There Markets bee, and things both bought, and sold,
Know not the price, nor how the Markets hold.
There [...] do ruie, and Kings do Reigne,
And Battels fought, where many may be slaine.
And all within the Compasse of this Ring,
And yet not tidings to the Wearer bring.
Within the Ring wise Counsellors may sit,
And yet the Eare not one wise word may get.
There may be dancing all Night at a Ball,
And yet the Eare be not disturb'd at all.
There Rivals Duels sight, where some are slaine;
There Lovers mourne, yet heare them not complaine.
And Death may dig a Lovers Grave, thus were
A Lover dead, in a faire Ladies Eare.
But when the Ring is broke, the World is done,
Then Lovers they in to [...] run.

Severall VVorlds in severall Circles.

THere may be many Worlds like Circles round,
In after Ages more Worlds may be found.
If we into each Circle can but slip,
By Art of Navigatiou in a Ship;
This World compar'd to some, may be but small:
No doubt but Nature made degrees of all.
If so, then Drake had never gone so quick
About the Largest Circle in one Ship.
For some may be so big, as none can swim,
Had they the life of old [...].
Or had they lives to number with each day,
They would want time to compasse halfe the way.
But if that Drake had liv'd in Venus Star,
His Journey shorter might have been by farre.

THE CLASPE.

WHEN I did write this Booke, I took great paines,
For I did walke, and thinke, and breake my Braines.
My [...] run out of Breath, then downe would lye,
And panting with short wind, like those that dye.
When Time had given Ease, and lent them strength,
Then up would get, and run another length.
Sometimes I kept my Thoughts with a strict dyet,
And made them [...] with Fase, and Rest, and Quiet;
That they might run agen with swifter speed,
And by this course now Fancies they could breed.
But I doe feare they're not so Good to please,
But now they're out, [...] Braine is more at case.

The Circle of the Brain cannot be Squar'd.

A Circle Round divìded in foure Parts,
Hath been a Study amongst Men of Arts;
Ere since [...], or [...] time,
Hath every Brain been stretch'd upon a Line.
And every Thought hath been a Figure set,
Doubts Cyphers are, Hopes as Triangulars meet.
There is Division, and [...] made,
And Lines drawne out, and Points exactly layd.
But yet None can demonstrate it plaine,
Of Circles round, a just [...] square remaine.
Thus while the Braine is round, no Squares will be,
While Thoughts are in Divisions, no Figures will agree.

Another to the same Purpose.

AND thus upon the same account,
Doubling the Cube must mount;
And the Triangular must be cut so small,
Till into Equall Atomes it must fall.
For such is Mans Curiosity, and mind,
To seek for that, which hardest is to find.

The Squaring of the Circle.

WIthin the Head of Man's a Circle Round
Of Honesty, no Ends in it is found.
To Square this Circle many think it fit,
But Sides to take without Ends, hard is it.
Prudence and Temperance, as two Lines take;
With Fortitude and Justice, foure will make.
If th Line of Temperance doth prove too short,
Then add a Figure of a discreet Thought;
Let Wisedomes Point draw up Discretions Figure,
That make two equall Lines joyn'd both together.
Betwixt the Line Temperance and Justice, Truth must point,
Justice's Line draw downe to Fortitude, that Corner joynt;
Then Fortitude must draw in equall length,
To Prudence Line, Temperance must give the breadth.
And Temperance with Justice Line must run, yet stand
Betwixt Prudence and Fortitude, of either hand.
At every corner must a Point be layd,
Where every Line that meets, an Angle's made;
And when the Points too high, or low do fall,
Then must the Lines be stretch'd, to mak't even all.
And thus the Circle Round you'l find,
Is Squar'd with the foure Virtues of the Mind.

A Circle Squar'd in Prose.

A Circle is a Line without Ends, and a Square is foure equall Because my Lines are too long for my Rhimes, there­fore I put them in Prose. Sides, not one longer, or shorter then another. To square the Circle, is to make the Line of the Square Figure to be equall [Page 49] with the Round Figure. Honesty is the Circle without Ends, or By-respects, but is honest for Honesties sake. But to square this Circle, it is very difficult, and hard it is for Honesty to take part with foure sidès without Faction: for where there is siding there's Faction, and where Factions are, there is Partiality, and where Partiality is, there is Injustice, and where Injustice is, Wrong, and where Wrong is, Truth is not, and where Truth is not, Honesty cares not to live. But let us see how we can square this Circle of Honesty. First, draw foure Lines, Prudence, Tempe­rance, [...], and Justice; these foure Lines let them be Crosse Parallels, that they may be Longitudes, and Latitudes to each other, and at each end of every Line make a Point. As at the Line of Justice a point of Severity at one end, and another of Facility at the other end. And at either end of Fortitude, one of Rashnesse, and another of Timorosity. And at the end of Temperance, Prodigality, and [...]: At each end of Prudence, Sloth, and Stupidity. Then draw out these Points, and make them Angles: As Severity, and Timorosity make one Angle; Rashnesse, and Stupidity another. Sloth, and Prodigality make a third Angle; Facility and Covetousnesse make the fourth. Then exactly in the midst of either Line, set of ei­ther side of the Line, a Figure: As Distributive on the outside of the Line of Justice, and Communicative within the Line. So on the side of Fortitude, Despaire on the outside, and Love with­in. On Prudence Line, Experience on the outside, and Industry within. On Temperance Line, Observation on the outside, and Ease within. Then draw a Line of Charity from the point Distribution, and from the Point of Observation, a Line of Disere­tion, and make an Angle with Hope. Then from Community, a Line of Clemency, and from the point of Ease, a Line of Com­fort, which make an Angle of Peace. Then from Despaire, a Line of Hope, and from Industry, a Line of Fruition, which make an Angle of Tranquillity. Then from the point of Love, a Line of Faith, and from the point of Ease, a Line of Pleasure; this makes an Angle of Joy. Then set a Point at every Angle, as Obe­dience, Humility, Respect, and Reverence; And thus the Square measur'd with Truth, the Line will be equall with the Circle of Honesty.

The Trasection.

CUT the Line of Wisdome into three parts; Prudence, Experience, and Judgment; Then draw a Line of Dis­cretion, equall to the Line of Experience, and a Line of Industry, equall to the Line of Prudence, and a Line of Temperance, e­quall to the Line of Judgment, and to Temperance, an equall Line of Tranquillity, and to the Line Industry, a line of Ingenu­ity, and to the line of Discretion, draw an equall line of Obedi­ence. Then all these lines measur'd with the Rule of Reason, and you'l finde it equall to the line of Wisedome; joyne these lines together, Truth makes the Angle. This is the Trasection.

The Arithmetick of Passions.

WIth Numeration Moralists begin
Upon the Passions, putting Quotients in,
Numbers divide with Figures, and Substract,
And in their Difinitions are exact:
And there Substract, as taking One, from Three,
That add to Foure, 'twill make Five to be.
Thus the Odd Numbers to the Even joyn'd,
Will make the Passions rise within the Mind.

TO MORALL PHILOSOPHERS.

MOrall Philosophy is a severe Schoole, for there is no Arithmetitian so exact in his Accounts, or doth Divide and Substract his Numbers more subtlely, then they the Passions; & as Arithmetick can mul­tiply Numbers above all use, so Passions may be divided beyond all Practice. But Moralists live the happiest lives of Man-kind, because most contented, for they do not onely subdue the Pas­sions, but can make the best use of them, to the Tranquility of the mind: As Feare to make them Circumspect, Hate to Evill, De­sire to Good, Love to Vertue, Hope makes Industry Jealous of Indis­cretions, Angry at Follies, and so the like of all the rest. For they do not only subdue the feircest of them, making them Slaves to execute several works, in several places. But those Passions that are mild, & of gentle Nature, they make perfect Friend-ship with: for the Passions are like Privie Counsellors, where some Coun­sell for Peace, others for Warre, and some being brib'd with the World, and Appetite, perswade to mutiny, which uses a Re­bellion. But Moralists are like powerfull Monarchs, which can make their Passions obedient at their pleasure, condemning them at the Bar of Justice, cutting of their heads with the sword of Reason; or, like skilfull Musitians, making the Passions Mu­sicall Instruments, which they can tune so exactly, and play so well, and sweetly, as every severall Note shall strike the Eares of the Soule with delight: and when they play Concords, the Mind dances in Measure, the Sarabrand of Tranquillity. Whereas when they are out of Tune, they do not only sound harsh and unpleasant, but when the Notes disagre eing, the Mind takes wrong Steps, and keeps false time, and the Soule is disqui­eted with the noise. But there is no Humour, or Passion so troublesome as Desire, because it yeilds no sound satisfaction; for all it is mixt most commonly with pleasing hopes: but hope is a greater pleasure then Injoyment, just as Eating is a greater pleasure to the Hungry, then when the Stomacke is fully satis­fied. Yet Desire, and Curiosity make a Man to be above other Creatures: for by desiring Knowledge, Man is as much above [Page 52] a Beast, as want of perfect Knowledge makes him lesse then God; and Man, as he hath a transcending Soule to out-live the World to all Eternity; so he hath a transcending desire to live in the Worlds Memory, as long as the [...] [...]; that he might not dye like a Beast, and be forgotten; but that his Works may be­get another Soule, though of shorter life, which is Fame; and Fame is like a Soule, an Incorporeall Thing.

DIALOGUES.

Of Fame.
A Dialogue between two Supernaturall Opinions.

1. Op.
WHO knows, but that Mans Soule in Fame delights
After the Body and It disunites?
If we allow the Soule shall live, not dye,
Although the Body in the Grave doth lie;
And that some knowledge still It doth re­taine,
Why may not then some love of Fame remaine?
2. Op.
There doth no Vanity in Soules then dwell,
When separate, they goe to Heaven, or Hell.
1. Op.
Fame's Vertues Child, or ought to be;
What comes not from her, is an Insamy.
2. Op.
Soules of the World remember nought at all,
All that is past into Oblivion fall.
1. Op.
Why may not Soules, as well as Angels, know,
And heare and see, what's done i'th' World below?
2. Op.
Soules neither have Ambition, nor desire,
When once in Heaven, nor after Fame inquire.
1. Op.
Who can tell that? since Heaven loves good Deeds,
And Fame of Piety from Grace proceeds.

Of Fame.
A Dialogue between two Naturall Opinions:

1. Op.
TO desire Fame, it is a Noble thought,
Which Nature in the best of Minds hath wrought.
2. Op.
Alas, when Men do dye, all Motion's gone,
If no Motion, no thought of Fame hath one.
1. Op.
What if the Motion of the Body dye?
The Motion of the Mind may live on high;
And in the Aiery Elements may lye,
[Page 54] Although we know it not, about may flye,
And thus by Nature may the Mind delight
To heare its Fame, and see its Pyramid;
Or grieve, and mourne, when it doth see, and know,
Her Acts and Fame do to Oblivion go.

A simple naturall Opinion of the Mind.

NAture a Talent gives to every one,
As Heaven gives grace to work Salvation from.
The Talent Nature gives a Noble Mind,
Where Actions good are minted currant Coyne.
Where every Virtue stamps their Image so,
That all the World each severall Peice may know.
If Men be lazy, let this Talent lye,
Seek no occasion to improve it by:
Who knowes, but Natures punishment may be,
To make the Mind to grieve eternally?
That when his Spirit's fled, and Body rot,
To know himselfe of Friend's, and World's forgot.
If men have used their best Industry,
Yet cannot get a Fame to live thereby:
Then may the Minds of Men rest satisfied,
That they had left no Meanes, or waies untri'd.

The Purchase of Poets, or a Dialogue betwixt the Poets, and Fame, and Homers Marriage.

A Company of Poets strove to buy
Parnassus Hill, where Fame thereon doth lye:
And Helicon, a Well that runs below,
Which those that drink thereof, strait Poets grow.
But Money they had none, (for Poets all are poore,)
And Fancy, which is Wit, is all their store.
[Page 55] Thinking which way this Purchase they should get,
They did agree in Councell all to sit:
Knowing that Fame was Honour to the Well,
And that She alwaies on the Hill did dwell:
They did conclude to tell her their desire,
And for to know what price she did require.
Then up the Hill they got, the Journey long,
Some nimbler feet
Numbers.
had, and their breath
Fancy.
more strong:
Which made them get before, by going fast,
But all did meet upon the Hill at last.
And when [...] [...] them all, what they could say,
She askt them where their Money was to pay.
They told her, Money they had none to give,
But they had Wit, by which they All did live;
And though they knew, sometimes She Bribes would take,
Yet Wit, in Honours Court, doth greatnesse make.
Said shee, this Hill I'le neither sell, nor give,
But they that have [...] Wit shall with Mee live.
Then go you downe, and get what Friends you can,
That will be bound, or plead for every man.
[...] every Poet was twixt hope, and Doubt,
And Envy strong to put each other out.
Homer, the first of Poets, did begin;
Brought Greece, and Troy for to be bound for him.
Virgill brought Aeneas, hee all Rome,
For Horace all the Country-men came soon.
Juvenall, Catullus, all Satyrs joyn'd,
And in sirme Bonds they all themselves did bind.
And for Tibullus, Venus, and her Sonne
Would needs be bound, cause wanton verse he sung.
Pythagoras his Transmigration brings
Ovid, who seales the Bond with severall things.
Lucan brought Pompey, Senate all in armes,
And Casars Army with their hot Alarmes:
Mustring them all in the Emathian Feilds,
To Fames Bond to set their bands, and Seales.
Poets, which Epitaphei on the Dead had made,
Their Ghosts did rise, faire Fame for to perswade
To take their Bonds, that they might live, though dead,
To after Ages when, their Names were read.
[Page 56] The Muses nine came all at Barre to plead,
Which partiall were, according as th' were fee'd.
At last all Poets were cast out, but three,
Where Fame disputed long, which should her Husband bee.
Pythagoras for Ovid first did speake,
And said, his numbers smooth, and words were sweet.
Variety, said he, doth Ladies please,
They change as oft, as he makes Beasts, Birds, Trees:
As many severall Shapes, and Formes they take,
Some Goddesses, and some do Devils make.
Then let faire Fame sweet Ovids Lady be,
Since Change doth please that Sex, none's fit but he.
Then spoke Aeneas on brave Virgils side,
Declar'd, he was the glory, and the pride
Of all the Romanes, who from him did spring,
And in his Verse his praises high did sing.
Then let him speed, even for faire Venus sake,
And for your Husband no other may you take.
Wise Ulisses in an Orators Stile
Began his Speech, whose Tongue was smooth as Oyle;
Bowing his head downe low, to Fame did speake,
I come to plead, although my Wit is weake:
But since my Cause is just, and Truth my Guide,
The way is plaine, I shall not [...] aside.
Homers losty Verse doth reach the Heavens high,
And brings the Gods downe from the Aiery Skie:
And makes them side in Factions, for Man-kind,
As now for Troy, then Greece, as pleas'd his mind.
So walkes he downe into [...] deep,
And wakes the Furies out of their dead sleep:
With Fancy's Candles seeks above all Hell,
Where every Place, and Corner he knowes well.
Opening the Gates where sleepy Dreames do lye,
Walking into the Elysium fields hard by:
There tells you, how Lovers their time imploy,
And that pure Soules in one another joy.
As Painters shadowes make, mixing Colours,
So Soules do mixe of Platonick Lovers:
Shewes how Heroick Spirits there do play
At the Olympick Games, to passe the time away.
[Page 57] As Wrestling, Running, Leaping, Swimming, Ride,
And many other Exercises beside.
What Poet, before him, did ever tell
The Names of all the Gods, and Devils in Hell?
Their Mansions, and their Pleasures He describes,
Their Powers, and Authorities divides.
Their Chronologies, which were before all time,
And their Adulteries he puts in Rhime:
Besides, great Fame, thy Court he hath fill'd full
Of Brave Reports [...] which else an Empty Skull
It would appeare, and not like Heavens Throne,
Nor like the Firmament, with Stars thick strowne:
Makes Hell appeare with a Majestick Face,
Because there are so many in that Place.
Fame never could so great a Queen have bin,
If Wits Invention had not brought Arts in.
Your Court by Poets fire is made light:
Quencht out, you dwell as in perpetuall Night.
It heats the Spirits of Men, inflames their blood,
And makes them seek for Actions great, and good.
Then be you just, since you the ballance hold,
Let not the Leaden weights weigh downe the Gold.
It were Injustice, Fame, for you to make
A
Because [...] Po­ets imitate Homer.:
Servant low, his Masters place to take.
Or [...], that pick the Purse, you should preferre
Before the Owner, since condemn'd they were.
His are not Servants Lines; but what He leaves,
Theeves
The Theft of Poets.
steale, and with the same the World deceives.
If so, great Fame, the World will never care
To worship you, unlesse you right preferre.
Then let the best of Poets find such grace
In your faire Eyes, to choose him first in place.
Let all the rest come offer at thy Shrine,
And shew thy selfe a Goddesse that's divine.
I, at your word, will Homer take, said Fame,
And if he proves not good, be you to blame.
Vlisses bowed, and Homer kis'd her hands,
Then were they joyn'd in Matrimoniall Bands:
And Mercury from all the Gods was sent,
To give her joy, and wish her much content.
[Page 58] And all the Poets were invited round,
All that were knowne, or in the World were found.
Then did they dance with measure, and in time,
Each in their turne took out the Muses nine.
In Numbers smooth their Feet did run,
Whilst Musick plaid, and Songs were sung.
The Bride, and Bridegroome went to bed,
There Homer got Fames Maiden-head.

A Dialogue betwixt Man, and Nature.

Man.
TIs strang,
How we do change.
First to live, and then to dye,
Is a great misery.
To give us sense, great paines to feele,
To make our lives to be Deaths wheele;
To give us Sense, and Reason too,
Yet know not what we're made to do.
Whether to Atomes turne, or Heaven up flye,
Or into new Formes change, and never dye.
Or else to Matter Prime to fall againe,
From thence to take new Formes, and so remaine.
Nature gives no such Knowledge to Man-kind,
But strong Desires to torment the Mind:
And Senses, which like Hounds do run about,
Yet never can the perfect Truth find out.
O Nature! Nature! cruell to Man-kind,
Gives Knowledge none, but Misery to find.
Nature.
Why doth Man-kind complaine, and make such Moane?
May not I work my will with what's my owne?
But Men among themselves contract, and make
A Bargaine for my Tree; that Tree will take:
Most cruelly do chop in peeces small,
And formes it as he please, then builds withall.
Although that Tree by me was made to stand,
Just as it growes, not to be cut by Man.
Man.
O Nature, Trees are dull, and have no Sense,
And therefore feel not paine, nor take offence.
[Page 59] But Beasts have life and Sense, and Passion strong,
Yet cruell man doth kill, and doth them wrong.
To take that life, I gave, before the time
I did ordaine, the injury is mine.
What Ill man doth, Nature did make him do,
For he by Nature is prompt thereunto.
For it was in great Natures power, and Will,
To make him as she pleas'd, either good, or ill.
Though Beast hath Sense, feels paine, yet whilst they live,
They Reason want, for to dispute, or grieve.
Beast hath no paine, but what in Sense doth lye,
Nor troubled Thoughts, to think how they shall dye.
Reason doth stretch Mans mind upon the Rack,
With Hopes, with Joyes, pull'd up, with Feare pull'd back.
Desire whips him forward, makes him run,
Despaire dothwound, and pulls him back agen.
For Nature, thou mad'st Man betwixt Extreames,
Wants perfect Knowledge, yet thereof he dreames.
For had he bin like to a Stock, or Stone,
Or like a Beast, to live with Sense alone.
Then might he eate, or drink, or lye stone-still,
Nere troubled be, either for Heaven, or Hell.
Man knowledge hath enough for to inquire,
Ambition great enough for to aspire:
And Knowledge hath, that yet he knowes not all,
And that himselfe he knoweth least of all:
Which makes him wonder, and thinks there is mixt
Two severall Qualities in Nature fixt.
The one like Love, the other like to Hate,
By striving both hinders Predestinate.
And then sometimes, Man thinks, as one they be,
Which makes Contrariety so well agree;
That though the World were made by Love and hate,
Yet all is rul'd, and governed by Fate.
These are Mans feares; mans hopes run smooth, and high,
Which thinks his Mind is some great Deity.
For though the body is of low degree,
In Sense like Beasts, their Soules like Gods shall be.
Saies Nature, why doth Man complaine, and crye,
If he beleives his Soule shall never dye?

A Dialogue betwixt the Body, and the Mind:

Body.
WHat Bodies else but Mans, did Nature make,
To joyne with such a Mind, no rest can take;
That Ebbs, and slowes, with full, and falling Tide,
As Minds dejected fall, or swell with Pride:
In Waves of Passion roule to Billowes high,
Alwaies in Motion, never quiet lye.
Where Thoughts like Fishes swim the Mind about,
Where the great Thoughts the smaller Thoughts cate out.
My Body the Barque rowes in Minds Occan wide,
Whose Waves of Passions beat on every side.
When that dark Cloud of Ignorance hangs low,
And Winds of vaine Opinions strong do blow:
Then Showers of doubts into the Mind raine downe,
In deepe vast Studies my Barque of flesh is drown'd.
Mind.
Why doth the Body thus complaine, when I
Do helpe it forth of every Misery?
For in the World your Barque is bound to swim,
Nature hath rigg'd it out to trafficke in.
Against hard Rocks you breake in [...] small,
If my Invention helpe you not in all.
The Load-stone of Attraction I find out,
The Card of Observation guides about.
The Needle of Discretion points the way,
Which makes your Barque get safe into each Bay.
Body.
If I 'seape drowning in the Watry Maine,
Yet in great mighty Battels I am slaine.
By your Ambition I am forc'd to fight,
When many [...] upon my Body light.
For you care not, so you a Fame may have,
To live, if I be buried in a Grave.
Mind.
If Bodies fight, and Kingdomes win, then you
Take all the pleasure that belongs thereto.
You have a Crowne, your Head for to adorne,
Upon your Body Jewels are hung on.
All things are sought, to please your Senses Five,
No Drugge unpractis'd, to keepe you alive.
[Page 61] And I, to set you up in high Degree,
Invent all Engines us'd in Warre to be.
Tis I that make you in great triumph sit,
Above all other Creatures high to get:
By the Industrious Arts, which I do find,
You other Creatures in Subjection bind:
You cate their Flesh, and after with their Skinne,
When Winter comes, you lap your Bodies in.
And so of every thing that Nature makes,
By my direction you great pleasure takes.
Body.
What though my Senses all do take delight,
Yet you upon my Entrals alwaies bite.
My flesh cate up, that all my bones are bare,
With the sharpe Teeth of Sorrow, Griefe, and Care.
Drawes out my Blood from Veines, with envious spight,
Decaies my Strength with shame, or extreame fright.
With Love extreamly sicke I lye,
With cruell hate you make me dye.
Mind.
Care keeps you from all hurt, or falling low,
Sorrow, and Griefe are Debts to Friends we owe.
Feare makes man just, to give each one his owne,
Shame makes Civility, without there's none.
Hate makes good Lawes, that all may live in Peace,
Love brings Society, and gets Increase.
Besides, with Joy I make the Eyes looke gay,
With pleasing Smiles they dart forth every way.
With Mirth the Cheeks are fat, smooth, Rosie-red,
Your Speech flowes Wit, when Fancies fill the Head.
If I were gone, you'ld misse my Company,
Wish we were joyn'd againe, or you might dye.

A Complaint of VVater, Earth, and Aire, against the Sun, by way of Dialogue.

Moisture to Earth.
THere's none hath such an Enemy as I,
The Sun doth drinke me up, when he's a dry,
He sucks me out of every hole I lye:
Drawes me up high, from whence I downe do fall,
In Showers of Raine, am broke in peeces small,
Where I am forc'd to Earth for helpe to call.
[Page 62] Strait Earth her Porous doors sets open wide,
And takes me in with hast on every side;
Then joynes my Limbs fast in a slowing Tide.
Earth to Moi­sture.
Alas, Deare Friend, the Sun, my greatest Fee,
My tender Buds he blast as they do grow:
He burnes my Face, and makes it [...], and dry,
He sucks my Breast, which starves my Young thereby.
Thus I, and all my Young, for thirst were slaine,
But that with Wet you fill my [...] againe.
Aire to Earth and Moisture.
The Sun doth use me ill, as all the rest,
For his hot Soultry heats do me molest:
Melts me into a thin and slowing Flame,
To make him light, when men it Day do name.
Corrupts me, makes me full of [...] soares,
Which Putresaction on mens Bodies poures:
Or else the subtle Flame into mens Spirits run,
Which makes them raging, or starke mad become.
Drawes me into a length, and breadth, till I
Become so thin, with windy wings do flye:
Never can leave, till all my Spirits spent,
And then I dye, and leave no Monument.
The Sun to [...].
O most unkind, and most ungratefull Earth,
I am thy Mid-wife, brings your Young to Birth:
I with my heat do cause your Young to grow,
And with my light I teach them how to go.
My Sun-Bcames are Strings, whereon to hold,
For feare they fall, and breake their Limbs on Cold.
All to Maturity I do bring, and give
Youth, Beauty, Strength, and make Old Age to live.
The Sun to [...]'a­ter
Sluggish Moisture I active, and light make,
All grosse and corrupt I Humours away take.
All Superfluity I dry up cleane,
That nothing but pure Christall water's seen.
The hard-bound Cold I loosen, and unty,
When you in Icy Chaines a Prisoner lye:
With [...] your Limbs are nipt, and bit with Cold,
Your smooth, and glassie Face makes wrinkled, Old.
[Page 63] I make you nimble, soft, and faire,
And Liquid, Nourishing, and Debonaire.
The Sun to Aire.
Aire I purge, and make it cleere, and bright,
Black Clouds dissolve, which make the Day seem Night.
The crude, raw Vapours, I digest and straine,
The thicker part all into Showers of Raine.
The thinnest part I turne all into Winds,
Which, like a Broome, sweeps out all Dirt it findes.
The cleerest part turne into Azure Skie,
Hang'd all with Stars, and next the Gods you lye.

A Dialogue between Earth, and Cold.

Earth.
O Cruell Cold, to life an Enemy,
A Misery to Man, and Posterity!
Most envious Cold, to Stupifie Mens Braine,
Destroies that Monarchy, where Wit should reigne.
Tyrant thou art, to bind the Waters clear
In Chaines of Ice, lye fetter'd halfe the yeare.
Imprisons every thing that dwels in me,
Shutting my Porous doors, no Light can see:
And smothered am almost up to death,
Each hole is stopt so close, can take no breath.
Congeales the Aire to massie Clouds of Snow,
Like Mountaines great, they on my Body throw.
And all my Plants, and strong great fruit [...] Trees,
You nip to death, or cloath them in course Freeze.
My fresh green Robes, which [...] me fine, and gay,
You strip me of, or change to black, or gray.
For feare of Cold, my Moisture shrinks so low,
My Head weares bald, no [...] thereon will grow:
And breakes the Suns bright: [...], their heat destroy;
Which takes away my comfort, and my joy:
And makes my Body stiff, so deadly numb'd,
That in my Veines nothing will fluent run.
Cold.
Why do you thus complaine, poore Earth, and grieve?
I give you strength and make you long to live.
I do refresh you from the Scorching Sun,
I give you breath, which makes you strong become.
[Page 64] I cloath you from the Cold with Milke-white Snow,
Send downe your Sap to nourish you below.
For if that heat should dwell, and long time stay,
His Thirst would drinke your Moisture all away.
I take nought from you, nor do make you poore,
But, like a Husband good, do keepe your Store.
My Ice are Locks, and Barrs, all safe to keepe;
From Busie Motion gives you quiet sleepe.
For heat is active, and doth you molest,
Doth make you worke, and never let you rest.
Heat spends your Spirits, makes you crackt, and dry,
Drinkes all him selfe; with Thirst you almost dye.
With Sweating Labour you grow weake, and faint,
I wonder why you make such great complaint.
Earth.
Both Heat, and Cold, in each extreame Degree,
Two Hells they are, though contrary they be.
Two Devils are, torment me with great paines,
One shoots hot Arrowes, th' other ties in Chaines.

A Dialogue betwixt Earth, and Dark­nesse.

Earth.
OHorrid Darknesse, and you powers of Night,
Melancholy Shades, made by obstructed Lights;
Why so Cruell? what Evil have I done?
To part me from my
There may be more Earths then one, for all we know, and but one Sun.
Husband, the bright Sun?
Darknesse.
I do not part you, he me hither sends,
Whilst Hee rides about, to visit all his Friends.
Besides, [...] hath more Wives to love, then you;
He never constant is to one, nor true.
Earth.
You do him wrong, for though he Journies make
For Exercise, he care for me doth take.
He leaves his Stars, and's Sister in his place,
To comfort me, whilst [...] doth run his Race.
But you do come, most wicked [...] Night,
And rob me of that faire, and Silver Light.
Darknesse.
The Moon, and Stars, they are but shadowes thin,
Small Cob-web Lawne they from his Light do spin:
Which they in scorned do make, you to disgrace,
As a thin Vaile, to cover your Ill Face.
[Page 65] For Moon, or Stars have no strong Lights to shew
A Colour true, nor how you bud, or grow.
Onely some Ghosts do rise, and take delight,
To walke about, when that the Moon shines bright.
Earth.
Your are deceiv'd, they cast no such Disguise,
Strive me to please, by twinkling in the Skies.
And for the Ghosts my Children are, being weake,
And tender Ey'd, helpe of the Moon they seeke.
For why, her Light is gentle, moist, and Cold,
Doth ease their Eyes, when they do it behold.
But you with Shadowes fright, delude the Sight,
Like Ghost appeare, with gloomy shades of Night.
And you with Clouds do cast upon my Back
A Mourning Mantle of the deepest black:
That covers me with darke Obscuritie,
That none of my deare Children I can see.
Their Lovely Faces mask'st thou from my Sight,
Which shew most beautifull in the day Light.
They take delight to View, and to adorne,
And fall in love with one anothers Forme.
By which kind Sympathy they bring me store
Of Children young: those, when growne up, brings more.
But you are spightfull to those Lovers kind,
[...] their Faces, makes their Eyes quite blind.
Darknesse.
Is this my thanks for all my Love, and Care,
And for the great respect to you I beare?
I am thy kind, true, and constant Lover,
I all your Faults, and Imperfections cov
I take you in my gentle Armes of rest,
With coole fresh Dewes I bath your dry, hot Breast.
The Children which you by the Sun did beare,
I lay to sleepe, and rest them from their Care.
In Beds of silence soft I lay them in,
And cover them, though black, with Blankets cleane.
Then shut them close from the Disturbing Light,
And yet you raile against your Lover, Night.
Besides if you had Light through all the yeare,
Though Beauty great, 'twouldnot so well appeare.
For, what is Common, hath not such respect,
Nor such regard: for [...] doth bring neglect.
[Page 66] Nought is admired, but what is seldome [...],
And black, for change, delights as well as green.
Yet I should constant bee, if I might stay,
But the bright Sun doth beat me quite away.
For he is active, and runs all about,
Nere dwels with one, but seeks new Lovers out.
He spightfull is to other Lovers, [...]
He by his Light doth give intelligence.
But I Loves confident am made, I bring
Them in my Shade, to meet and whisper in.
Thus am I faithfull, kind to Lovers true,
And all is for the [...], and Love to you.
What though I am Melancholy, my Love's as strong,
As the great Light which you so dote upon.
Then slight me not, nor do [...] Suit disdaine,
But when the Sun is gone, me entertaine.
Take me sweet Love with [...] into your Bed,
And on your fresh green Breast lay my black Head.

A Dialogue between an Oake, and a Man cutting him downe.

Oake.
WHY cut you off my Bowes, both large, and long,
That keepe you from the heat, and scortching Sun [...]
And did refresh your [...] Limbs from sweat?
From thundring Raines I keepe you free, from Wet;
When on my Barke your weary head would lay,
Where quiet sleepe did take all Cares away.
The whilst my Leaves a gentle noise did make,
And blew coole Winds, that you [...] Aire night take.
Besides, I did invite the Birds to sing,
That their sweet voice might you some pleasure bring.
Where every one did strive to do their best,
Oft chang'd their Notes, and strain'd their tender Breast.
In Winter time, my Shoulders broad did hold
Off blustring Stormes, that wounded with sharpe Cold.
And on my Head the [...] of snow did fall,
Whilst you under my Bowes [...] free from all.
And will you thus requite my Love, Good Will,
To take away my Life, and [...] kill?
[Page 67] For all my Care, and Service I have past,
Must I be cut, and laid on Fire at last?
And thus true Love you cruelly have slaine,
Invent alwaies to torture me with paine.
First you do peele my Barke, and flay my Skinne,
Hew downe my Boughes, so chops off every Limb.
With Wedges you do peirce my Sides to wound,
And with your Hatchet knock me to the ground.
I mine'd shall be in Chips and peeces small,
And thus doth Man reward good Deeds withall.
Man.
Why grumblest thou, old Oake, when thou hast stood
This hundred yeares, as King of all the Wood.
Would you for ever live, and not resigne
Your Place to one that is of your owne Line?
Your Acornes young, when they grow big, and tall,
Long for your Crowne, and wish to see your fall;
Thinke every minute lost, whilst you do live,
And grumble at each Office you do give.
Ambitien flieth high, and is above
All sorts of Friend-ship strong, or Natur all Love.
Besides, all Subjects they in Change delight,
When Kings grow Old, their Government they slight:
Although in ease, and peace, and wealth do live,
Yet all those happy times for Change will give.
Growes discontent, and Factions still do make;
What Good so ere he doth, as Evill take.
Were he as wise, as ever Nature made,
As pious, good, as ever Heaven [...]:
Yet when they dye, such Joy is in their Face,
As if the Devill had gone from that place.
With Shouts of Joy they run a new to Crowne,
Although next day they strive to pull him downe.
[...].
Why, said the Oake, because that they are mad,
Shall I rejoyce, for my owne Death be glad?
Because my Subjects all ingratefull are,
Shall I therefore my health, and life impaire.
Good Kings governe justly, as they ought,
Examines not their Humours, but their Fault.
For when their Crimes appeare, t'is time to strike,
Not to examine Thoughts how they do like.
[Page 68] If Kings are never lov'd, till they do dye,
Nor [...] to live, till in the Grave they lye:
Yet he that loves himselfe the lesse, because
He cannot get every mans high applause:
Shall by my Judgment be condemn'd to weare,
The Asses Eares, and burdens for to beare.
But let me live the Life that Nature gave,
And not to please my Subjects, dig my Grave.
Man.
But here, Poore Oake, thou liv'st in Ignorance,
And never seek'st thy Knowledge to advance.
I'le cut the downe, 'cause Knowledge thou maist gaine,
Shalt be a Ship, to traffick on the Maine:
There shalt thou swim, and cut the Seas in two,
And trample downe each Wave, as thou dost go.
Though they rise high, and big are sweld with pride,
Thou on their Shoulders broad, and Back, shalt ride:
Their lofty Heads shalt bowe, and make them stoop,
And on their Necks shalt set thy steddy Foot:
And on their Breast thy Stately Ship shalt beare,
Till thy Sharpe Keele the watry Wombe doth teare.
Thus shalt thou round the World, new Land to find,
That from the rest is of another kind.
Oake.
O, said the Oake, I am contented well,
Without that Knowledge, in my Wood to dwell.
For I had rather live, and simple be,
Then dangers run, some new strange Sight to see.
Perchance my Ship against a Rack may hit;
Then were I strait in sundry peeces split.
Besides, no rest, nor quiet I should have,
The Winds would tosse me on each troubled Wave.
The Billowes rough will beat on every side,
My Breast will ake to swim against the Tide.
And greedy Merchants may me over-fraight,
So should I drowned be with my owne weight.
Besides with Sailes, and Rapes my Body tye,
Just like a Prisoner, have no Liberty.
And being alwaies wet, shall take such Colds,
My Ship may get a Pase, and leake through holes.
Which they to mend, will put me to great paine,
Besides, all patch'd, and peec'd, I shall remaine.
[Page 69] I care not for that Wealth, wherein the paines,
And trouble, is farre greater then the Gaines.
I am contented with what Nature gave,
I not Repine, but one poore wish would have,
Which is, that you my aged Life would save.
Man.
To build a Stately House I'le cut thee downe,
Wherein shall Princes live of great renowne.
There shalt thou live with the best Companie,
All their delight, and pastime thou shalt see.
Where Playes, and Masques, and Beauties bright will shine,
Thy Wood all oyl'd with Smoake of Meat, and Wine.
There thou shalt heare both Men, and Women sing,
Farre pleasanter then Nightingals in Spring.
Like to a Ball, their Ecchoes shall rebound
Against the Wall, yet can no Voice be found.
Oake.
Alas, what Musick shall I care to heare,
When on my Shoulders I such burthens beare?
Both Brick, and Tiles, upon my Head are laid,
Of this Preferment I am sore afraid.
And many times with Nailes, and Hammers strong,
They peirce my Sides, to hang their Pictures on.
My Face is sinucht with Smoake of Candle Lights,
In danger to be burnt in Winter Nights.
No, let me here a poore Old Oake still grow;
I care not for these vaine Delights to know.
For fruitlesse Promises I do not care,
More Honour tis, my owne green Leaves to beare.
More Honour tis, to be in Natures dresse,
Then any Shape, that Men by Art expresse.
I am not like to Man, would Praises have,
And for Opinion make my selfe a Slave.
Man.
Why do you wish to live, and not to dye,
Since you no Pleasure have, but Misery?
For here you stand against the scorching Sun:
By's Fiery Beames, your fresh green Leaves become
Wither'd; with Winter's cold you quake, and shake:
Thus in no time, or season, rest can take.
Oake.
Yet I am happier, said the Oake, then Man;
With my condition I contented am.
[Page 70] He nothing loves, but what he cannot get,
And soon doth surfet of one dish of meat:
Dislikes all Company, displeas'd alone,
Makes Griese himselfe, if Fortune gives him none.
And as his Mind is restlesse, never pleas'd;
So is his Body sick, and oft diseas'd.
His Gouts, and Paines, do make him sigh, and cry,
Yet in the midst of Paines would live, not dye.
Man.
Alas, poore Oake, thou understandst, nor can
Imagine halfe the misery of Man.
All other Creatures onely in Sense joyne,
But Man hath something more, which is divine.
He hath a Mind, doth to the Heavens aspire,
A Curiosity for to inquire:
A Wit that nimble is, which runs about
In every Corner, to seeke Nature out.
For She doth hide her selfe, as fear'd to shew
Man all her workes, least he too powerfull grow.
Like to a King, his Favourite makes so great,
That at the last, he feares his Power hee'll get.
And what creates desire in Mans Breast,
A Nature is divine, which seekes the best:
And never can be satisfied, unt ill
He, like a God, doth in Perfection dwell.
If you, as Man, desire like Gods to bee,
I'le spare your Life, and not cut downe your Tree.

A Dialogue of Birds.

AS I abroad in Feilds, and Woods did walke,
I heard the Birds of severall things did talke:
And on the Boughes would [...], prate, and chat,
And every one discourse of this, and that.
I, said the Larke, before the Sun do rise,
And take my flight up to the highest Skies:
There sing some Notes, to raise Appollo's head,
For feare that hee might lye too long a Bed.
And as I mount, or if descend downe low,
Still do I sing, which way so ere I go.
[Page 71] Winding my Body up, just like a Scrue,
So doth my Voice wind up a Trillo too.
What Bird, besides my selfe, both flyes and sings,
Just tune my [...] keeps to my [...] Wings.
I, said the Nightingale, all night do watch,
For feare a Serpent should my young Ones catch:
To keep back sleep, I severall Tunes do sing,
Which Tunes so pleasant are, they Lovers bring
Into the Woods; who listning sit, and mark:
When I begin to sing, they cry, hark, hark.
Stretching my Throat, to raise my Trilloes high,
To gaine their praises, makes me almost dye.
Then comes the Owle, which saies, here's such a doe
With your sweet Voices; through spight cries Wit-a-woo.
In Winter, said the Robin, I should dye,
But that I in a good warm house do flye:
And there do pick up Crummes, which make me fat,
But oft am scar'd away with the Pusse-cat.
If they molest me not, then I grow bold,
And stay so long, whilst VVinter [...] are told.
Man superstitiously dares not hurt me,
For if I am kill'd, or hurt, ill Luck shall be.
The Sparrow said, were our Condition such,
But Men do strive with Nets us for to catch:
With Guns, and Bowes they shoot us from the Trees,
And by small shot, we oft our Lifes do leese,
Because we pick a Cherry here, and there,
When, God he knowes, we eate them in great feare.
But Men will eat, untill their Belly burst,
And surfets take: if we eat, we are curst.
Yet we by Nature are revenged still,
For eating over-much themselves they kill.
And if a Child do chance to cry, or brawle,
They strive to catch us, to please that Child withall:
With Threads they tye our legs almost to crack,
That when we hop away, they pull us back:
And when they cry Fip, Fip, strait we must come,
And for our paines they'l give us one small Crum.
I wonder, said Mag-pye, you grumble so,
Dame Sparrow, we are us'd much worse I trow.
[Page 72] For they our Tongues do slit, their words to learne,
And with the paine, our food we dearely came.
Why, say the [...], and the [...] all,
Do you so prate Mag-pie, and so much baule?
As if no Birds besides were wrong'd but you,
When we by cruell Man are injur'd to.
For we, to learn their [...], are kept awake,
That with their whistling we no rest can take.
In darknesse we are kept, no Light must see,
Till we have learnt their Tunes most perfectlie.
But Jack-dawes, they may dwell their houses nigh,
And build their Nests in Elmes that do grow high:
And there may prate, and flye from place to place;
For why, they think they give their House a grace.
Lord! said the Partridge, Cock, Puet, Snite, and Quaile,
Pigeons, Larkes, my Masters, why d'yee raile?
You're kept from VVinters Cold, and Summers heat,
Are taught new Tunes, and have good store of meat.
Having a Servant you to wait upon,
To make your Cages cleane from [...], and Dung:
When we poore Birds are by the dozens kill'd,
And luxuriously us eate, till they be fill'd:
And of our Flesh they make such cruell [...],
That but some of our Limbes will please their tast.
In VVood-cockes thighes they onely take delight,
And Partridge wings, which swift were in their flight.
The smaller Lark they eate all at one bite,
But every part is good of Quaile, and Suite.
The Murtherous Hawk they keep, us for to catch,
And learn their Dogs, to crouch, and creep, and watch:
Untill they have sprung us to Nets, and Toiles,
And thus poore Creatures we are made Mans spoiles.
Cruell Nature! to make us Gentle, Mild:
They happy are, which are more feirce, and wild.
O would our flesh had been like Carrion, course,
To eate us onely Famine might inforce.
But when they eate us, may they surfets take,
May they be poore, when they a [...] us make.
The more they eate, the leaner may they grow,
Or else so fat, they cannot stir, nor go.
O, said the [...], let me mourne in black,
For, of Mans cruelty I do not lack:
I am the [...] of Summer warme,
Do neither pick their Fruit, nor eate their Corne;
Yet they will take us, when alive we be,
I shake to tell, O horrid Cruelty!
Beate us alive, till we an Oile become.
Can there to Birdes be a worse Mortyrdome?
[...], O Man, if we should serve you so,
You would [...] us your great Curses throw.
But Nature, shee is good, do not her blame:
We ought to give her thankes, and not exclaime.
For Love is Natures chiefest Law in Mind,
Hate but an Accident from Love we find.
Tis true, Selfe-Preservation is the chiefe,
But Luxury to Nature is a [...].
Corrupted manners alwaies do breede Vioe,
Which by [...] doth the Mind intice.
No Creature doth usurp so much as Man,
Who thinkes himselfe like God, because he can
Rule other Creatures, makes them to obey:
We Soules have, Nature never made, say they.
What ever comes from Natures Stock, and Treasure,
Created is onely to serve their pleasure.
Although the Life of Bodies comes from Nature,
Yet still the Soules come from the great Creator.
And they shall live, though wee to [...] do turne,
Either in Blisse, or in hot flames to burne.
Then came the Parrot with her painted wing [...]
Spake like an Orator in every thing.
Sister Jay, Neighbour [...], Gossip Pie,
We taken are, not like the rest, to dye:
Onely to talk, and prate, the best we can,
To Imitate to [...] Life, the Speech of Man.
And just like men, we [...] our time away,
With many words, not one wise Speech can say:
And speak as gravely Non-sense as the best,
As full of empty words as [...] the rest.
Then Nature we will praise, because she have
Given us such Tongues, as Men our Lives to save.
[Page 74] Mourne not my Friends, but sing in Sun-shine gay,
And while you'ave time, joy in your selves you may.
What though your lives be short, yet merry be,
And not complaine, but in delights agree.
Strait came the [...] with a frowning face,
And hopt about, as in an angry pace.
My Masters all, what are you mad,
Is no regard unto the publick had?
Are private Home-Affaires cast all aside?
Your young Ones cry for meat, tis time to chide.
For shame disperse your selves, and some paines take,
Both for the Common good, and young Chickes sake:
And not sit murmuring here against great Man,
Unlesse for to revenge our selves we can.
Alas, alas, we want their Shape, which they
By it have power to make all obey.
For they can Lift, [...], strike, turne, and wind,
What waies they will, which makes them new Arts find.
Tis not their Wit, which new Inventions make,
But tis their Shapes, which heighth, breadth, depth, can take.
Thus they can measure the great worldly Ball,
And Numbers set, to prove the Truth of all.
What Creature else hath Armes, or goeth upright,
Or have all sorts of Motions so unite?
Man by his Shape can Nature imitate,
Can governe, rule, and new Arts can create.
Then come away, [...] [...] no good can do,
And what we cannot help, submit unto.
Then some their [...], others their Husbands call,
To gather Sticks, to build their Nests withall.
Some that were Shrewes, did chide, and scold, and fret,
The Wind blew downe their Nest where they should sit:
For all they gathered, with [...], and care,
Those Sticks, and Strawes were blowne they knew not where.
But none did labour like the little Wren,
To build her Nest, to hatch her young Ones in.
Shee laies more Eggs then all the rest,
And with much Art doth build her Nest.
The younger sort made love, and kis'd each others Bill,
The Cock would catch some Flies to give his Mistresse still,
[Page 75] The Yellow hammer cried, tis wet, tis wet,
For it will raine before the Sun doth set.
Taking their Flight, as each Mind thought it best,
Some flew abroad, and some home to their Nest.
Some went to gather Corne from Sheaves out strew'd,
And some to pick up Seed thats newly sowed.
Some had Courage a Cherry ripe to take,
Others catch t Flies, when they a Feast did make.
And some did pick up Ants, and Eggs, though small,
To carry home, to feed their young withall.
When every Crap was fil'd, and Night came on,
Then did they stretch their Wings to flye fast home.
And as like Men, from Market home they come,
Set out alone, but every Mile addes some:
Untill a Troop of Neighbours, get together,
So do a flight of Birds in Sun-shine weather.
When to their Nests they get, Lord how they baule,
And every one doth to his Neighbour call:
Asking each other if they weary were,
Rejoycing at past dangers, and great feare.
When they their wings had prun'd, and young ones fed,
Sate gossipping, before they went to Bed.
Let us a Carroll, said the Black-bird, sing,
Before we go to Bed this fine Evening.
The Thrushes, Linnets, Finches, all took parts,
A Harmony by Nature, not by Arts.
But all their Songs were Hymnes to God on high,
Praising his Name, blessing his Majesty.
And when they askt for Gifts, to God did pray,
He would be pleas'd to give them a faire day.
At last they drousie grew, and heavie were to sleep,
And then instead of singing, cried, Peep, Peep.
Just as the Eye, when Sense is locking up,
Is neither open wide, nor yet quite shut:
So doth a Voice still by degrees fall downe,
And as a Shadow, wast so doth a Sound.
Thus went to rest each Head, under each wing,
For Sleep brings Peace to every living thing.

A Dialogue between Melancholy, and Mirth.

AS I fate Musing, by my selfe alone,
My Thoughts on severall things did work upon.
Some did large Houses build, and Stately Towers,
Making Orchards, Gardens, and fine Bowers:
And some in Arts, and Sciences delight,
Some wars in Contradiction, Reasons fight.
And some, as Kings, do governe, rule a State;
Some as Republickes, which all Monarches hate.
Others, as Lawyers, plending at the Bar,
Some privie Counsellors, and Judges are.
Some Priests, which do preach Peace, and Godly life,
Others Tumultuous are, and full of [...].
Some are debauch'd, do wench, swagger, and sweare,
And some poore Thoughts do tremble out of feare.
Some jealous are, and all things do suspect,
Others so Carelesse, every thing neglect.
Some Nymphes, Shepheards, and Shepheardesses,
Some so kind, as one another kisses.
All sorts of Lovers, and their Passions,
Severall waies of Conrt- [...], and fine Fashions.
Some take strong Townes, and Buttels win,
Few do loose, but all must yeild to him.
Some are Heroick, Generous, and Free,
And some so base, do crouch with Flattery.
Some dying are, and in the Grave halfe lye,
And some Repenting, which for sorrow cry.
The Mind oppres'd with Griefe, Thoughts Mourners bee,
All cloath'd in Black, no light of Joy can see.
Some with Despaire do rage, are almost mad,
And some so merry, nothing makes thein sad.
And many more, which were too long to tell,
Thoughts severall bee, in severall places dwell.
At last came two, which were in various dresse,
One Melancholy, th' other did Mirth expresse.
Melancholy was all in black Array,
And Mirth was all in Colours fresh, and gay.
[...]
[Page 77]
Mirth laughing came, running unto me, flung
Her fat white Armes, about my Neck she hung:
Imbrac'd, and kis'd me oft, and strok't my Cheek,
Telling me, shee would no other Lover seek.
Ile sing you Songs, and please you every day,
Invent new Sports, to passe the time away.
Ile keep your Heart, and guard it from that Theefe,
Dull Melancholy Care, or sadder Griese:
And make your Eyes with Mirth to over-flow,
With springing blood, your Cheekes they fat shall grow,
Your Legs shall nimble be, your Body light,
And all your Spirits, like to Birds in flight.
Mirth shall digest your Meat, and make you strong,
Shall give you Health, and your short daies prolong.
Refuse me not, but take me to your Wife,
For I shall make you happy all your Life.
If you take Melancholy, shee'l make you leane,
Your Cheekes shall hollow grow, your Jawes all seen:
Your Eyes shall buried be within your Head,
And look as Pale, as if you were quite dead.
Shee'l make you start at every noise you heare,
And Visions strange shall in your Eyes appeare.
Your Stomack cold, and raw, digesting nought,
Your Liver dry, your Heart with sorrow fraught.
Your shriveled Skin, and Cloudy Browes, blood thick,
Your long lank sides, and back to Belly stick.
Thus would it be, if you to her were wed,
But better far it were, that you were dead.
Her Voice is low, and gives a hollow sound,
Shee hates the Light, in darknesse onely found:
Or set with blinking [...], or Tapers small,
Which various Shadowes make against a Wall.
She loves nought else but Noise, which discords make,
As croaking Frogs which do dwell in the Lake.
The Ravens hoarse, and so the Mandrakes groane,
And shreeking Owles, which in Night flye alone.
The Tolling Bell, which for the dead rings out,
A Mill, where rushing waters run about.
The roaring windes, which shake the Cedars tall,
Plow up the Seas, and beat the Rocks withall.
[Page 78] Shee loves to walk in the still Moon shine Night,
Where in a thick dark Grove she takes delight.
In hollow Caves, Houses thatcht, or lowly Cell,
Shee loves to live, and there alone to dwell.
Her Eares are stopt with Thoughts, her Eyes purblind,
For all shee heares, or sees, is in the [...].
But in her Mind, luxuriously shee lives,
Imagination severall pleasures gives.
Then leave her to her selfe, alone to dwell,
Let you and I in Mirth and pleasure swell:
And drink long lusty Draughts from [...] Boule,
Untill our Braines on vaporous Waves do roule.
Lets joy our selves in Amorous Delights.
There's none so happy, as the Carpet Knights.
Melancholy.
Melancholy with sad, and sober Face,
Complexion pale, but of a comely grace:
With modest Countenance, soft speech thus spake.
May I so happy be, your Love to take?
True, I am dull, yet by me you shall know
More of your selfe, so wiser you shall grow.
I [...] the depth, and bottome of Man-kind,
Open the Eye of Ignorance that's blind.
I travell far, and view the World about,
I walk with Reasons Staff to find Truth out,
I watchfull am, all dangers for to shun,
And do prepare gainst Evils that may come.
I hange not on inconstant Fortunes wheele,
Nor yet with unresolving doubts do reele.
I shake not with the Terrours of vaine feares,
Nor is my Mind fill'd with unusefull Cares.
I do not spend my time like idle Mirth,
Which onely happy is just at her Birth.
Which seldome lives for to be old,
But, if she doth, can no affections hold.
For in short time shee troublesome will grow,
Though at the first shee makes a pretty shew.
But yet shee makes a noise, and keepes a rout,
And with dislike most commonly goes out.
Mirth good for nothing is, like Weeds do grow,
Such Plants cause madnesse, Reason doth not know.
[Page 79] Her face with Laughter crumples on a heap,
Which plowes deep Furroughes, making wrinckles great.
Her Eyes do water, and her Skin turnes red,
Her mouth doth gape, Teeth bare, like one that's dead.
Her sides do stretch, as set upon the Last,
Her Stomack heaving up, as if shee'd cast.
Her Veines do swell, Joynts seem to be unset;
Her Pores are open, streaming out a sweat.
She fulsome is, and gluts the Senses all;
Offers her selfe, and comes before a Call:
Seekes Company out, hates to be alone.
Vnsent-for Guests Affronts are throwne upon.
Her house is built upon the golden Sandes;
Yet no Foundation hath, whereon it stands.
A Palace tis, where comes a great Resort,
It makes a noise, and gives a loud report.
Yet underneath the Roofe, Disasters lye,
Beates downe the house, and many kills thereby.
I dwell in Groves that gilt are with the Sun,
Sit on the Bankes, by which cleare waters run.
In Summers hot, downe in a Shade I lye;
My Musick is the buzzing of a Fly:
Which in the Sunny Beames do dance all day,
And harmlesly do passe their time away.
I walk in Meadowes, where growes fresh green Grasse.
Or Feilds, where Corne is high, in which I passe:
Walk up the Hills, where round I Prospects see;
Some Brushy Woods, and some all Champions [...].
Returning back, in the fresh Pasture go,
To heare the bleating Sheep, and Cowes to lowe.
They gently feed, no Evill think upon,
Have no designes to do another wrong.
In Winter Cold, when nipping Frosts come on,
Then do I live in a small House alone.
The littlenesse doth make it warm, being close,
No Wind, nor Weather cold, can there have force.
Although tis plaine, yet cleanly tis within,
Like to a Soule that's pure, and cleare from Sin.
And there I dwell in quiet, and still Peace,
Not fill'd with Cares, for Fiches to increase.
[Page 80] I wish, nor seek for valne, and [...] Pleasures,
No Riches are, but what the Mind intreasures.
Thus am I solitary, and live alone,
Yet better lov'd, the more that J am knowne.
And though my Face b'ill favoured at first sight,
After Acquaintance it shall give delight.
For I am like a Shade, who sits in me,
Shall not come wet, nor yet Sun-burned be.
I keep off blustring Stormes, from doing hurt,
When Mirth is often sinutch'd with dust, and durt.
Refuse menot, for J shall constant be,
Maintaine your Credit, keep up Dignity.

A Dialogue betwixt Joy, and Discre­tion.

Joy.
GIve me some Musick, that my Spirits may
Dance a free Galliard, whilst Delight doth play.
Let every Voice sing out, both loud, and shrill,
And every Tongue too run what way it will.
For Feare is gone away with her Pale Face,
And Paine is banisht out from every place.
Discretion.
O Joy, take Moderation by the hand,
Or [...] you'l fall so drunk, you cannot stand.
Your Tongue doth run so fast, no time can keep,
High as a Mountaine, many words you heap.
Your Thoughts in multitudes the Braine do throng,
That Reason is cast downe, and trod upon.
Joy.
O wise Discretion, do not angry grow.
Great dangers, feares, [...], you do not know.
But Feare being past, they suddenly are slackt,
Feare, being a string, bindes hard; when once tis crackt:
Spirits find Liberty, [...] run about:
Hard being [...], they suddenly burst out,
And to recover what they had before,
When once [...], their liberty is more.
Like Water, which was pen't, then passage findes,
Goeth in a Fury like the Northerne windes.
[Page 81] What gathers on a heap, so strong doth grow,
That when they're loose, far swifter do they go.
But deare Discretion with me do not scold,
Whilst you do feele great Feares, your Tongue pray hold.
For Joy cannot containe it selfe in rest:
It never leaves till some way is exprest.

A Dialogue betwixt VVit, and Beauty.

Wit.
MIxt Rose, and Lilly, why are you so proud,
Since Faire is not in all Minds best allow'd?
Some like the Black, the Browne, as well as White,
In all Complexions some Eyes take delight:
Nor doth one Beauty in the World still reigne.
For Beauty is created in the Braine.
But say there were a Body perfect made,
Complexion pure, by Natures pensill laid:
A Countenance where all sweet Spirits meet,
A Haire that's thick, or long curl'd to the Feet:
Yet were it like a Statue made of stone,
The Eye would weary grow to look thereon.
Had it not Wit, the Mind still to delight,
It soon wonld weary be, as well as Sight.
For Wit is fresh, and new, doth sport, and play,
And runs about the Humour every way.
Withall the Passions Wit can well agree;
Wit tempers them, and makes them pleas'd to bee.
Wit's ingenious, doth new Inventions find,
To ease the Body, recreate the Mind.
Beauty.
When I appeare, I strike the Optick Nerve,
I wound the Heart, I make the Passions serve.
Soules are my Prisoners, yet love me so well,
My Company is Heaven, my absence Hell.
Each Knee doth bow to me, as to a Shrine,
And all the World accounts me as Divine.
Wit.
Beauty, you cannot long Devotion keep:
The Mind growes weary, Senses fall a sleep.
As those which in the House of God do go,
Are very zealous in a Prayer, or two:
[Page 82] But if they kneele an houre-long to pray,
Their Zeale growes cold, nor know they what they say.
So Admirations last not very long,
After nine daies the greatest wonder's gone.
The Mind, as Senses all, delights in Change;
They nothing love, but what is new, and strange.
But subtle Wit can both please long, and well;
For, to the Eare a new Tale Wit can tell.
And, for the Tast, meat dresses severall waies,
To please the Eye, new Formes, and Fashions raise.
And for the Touch, Wit spins both Silk, and Wooll,
Invents new waies to keep Touch warm, and coole.
For Sent, Wit mixtures, and Compounds doth make,
That still the Nose a fresh new smell may take.
I by discourse can represent the Mind,
With severall Objects, though the Eyes be blind.
I can create Ideas in the Braine,
Which to the Mind seem reall, though but fain'd.
The Mind like to a Shop of Toies I fill,
With fine Concerts, all sorts of Humours sell.
I can the work of Nature imitate;
And change my selfe into each severall Shape.
I conquer all, am Master of the Feild,
I make faire Beauty in Loves Wars to yeild.

A Dialogue between Love, and Hate.

BOth Love, and Hate fell in a great dispute;
And hard it was each other to confute:
Which did most Good, or Evill most did shun.
Then Hate with frowning Browes this Speech begun.
Hate.
I flye, said shee, from wicked, and base Acts,
And teare the Bonds unjust, or ill Contracts.
I do abhor all Murther, VVar, and strife,
Inhumane Actions, and disorder'd life.
Ungratefull, and unthankfull Mindes, that shun
All those, from whom they have receiv'd a Boon.
From Discords harsh, and rude, my Eares I stop,
And what is Bad, I from the Good do lop.
[Page 83] I Perjur'd Lovers brand with foule disgrace,
And from ill Objects do I hide my Face.
Things, that are Bad, I hate; or what seemes so:
But Love is contrary to this, I know.
Love loves Ambition, the Mind's hot Fire,
And Worlds would ruine, for to rise up higher.
You love to please your Appetite, and your Will,
To glut your Gusto you delight in still.
You love to Flatter, and be flattered too;
And, for your Lust, poore Virgins would undo.
You love the ruine of your Foes to see,
And of your Friends, if they but Prosperous bee.
You nothing love besides your selfe, though ill,
And with vaine-glorious wind your Braine do fill.
You love no waies, but where your Bias tends,
And love the Gods onely for your owne Ends.
Love.
But Love, in words as sweet, as Nature is,
Said, Hate was false, and alwaies did amisse.
For she did Canker-fret, the Soule destroy,
Disturbe the pleasure, wherein Life takes joy;
The VVorld disorder, which in Peace would keep,
Torment the Head, the Heart revenge to seek:
And never rests, till she descends to Hell;
And therefore ever amongst Devils dwell.
For I, said Love, unite, aud Concords make,
All Musick was invented for my sake.
I Men by Lawes in Common-wealthes do joyne;
Against a common Foe, as one combine.
I am a Guard, to watch, defend, and keep,
The Sick, the Lame, the Helplesse, Aged, weak:
I for Honours sake high Courage raise;
And bring to Beautie Shrine, Offerings of praise.
I Pity, and Compassion the VVorld throughout
Do carry, and distribute all about.
I to the Gods do reverence, bow, and pray,
And in their Heavenly Mansions beare great sway.
Thus Love, and Hate, in somethings equall bee;
Yet in Disputes will alwaies disagree.

A Dialogue betwixt Learning, and Ig­norance.

Learning.
THou Busie, Forrester, that searchest bout
The VVor'd, to find the Heart of Learning out.
Or, Perseus like, foule Monsters thou dost kill;
Rude Ignorance, which alwaies doeth ill,
Ignorance.
O thou Proud Learning, that standst on Tip-toes high,
Can never reach to know the Deity:
Nor where the Cause of any one thing lies,
But fill man full of Care, and Miseries.
Learning inflames the Thoughts to take great paines,
Doth nought but make an Almes-tub of the Braines.
Learning.
Learning doth seek about, new things to find;
In that Pursuit, doth recreate the Mind.
It is a Perspective, Nature to espie,
Can all her Curiosity descry.
Ignorance.
Learning's an uselesse paine, unlesse it have
Some waies, or meanes to keep us from the Grave.
For, what is all the World, if understood,
If we do use it not, nor tast the Good?
Learning may come to know the use of things,
Yet not receive the Good which from them springs.
For Life is short, and Learning tedions, long:
Before we come to use what's Learned, Life's gone.
Learning.
O Ignorance, thou Beast, which [...] and lazy liest,
And onely cat'st, and sleepest, till thou diest.
Ignorance.
The Lesson Nature taught, is, most delight,
To please the Sense, and eke the Appetite.
I Ignorance am still the Heaven of Blisse:
For in me lies the truest happinesse.
Give me still Ignorance, that Innocent Estate,
That Paradise, that's free from Envious Hate.
Learning a Tree was, whereon Knowledge grew,
Tasting that Fruit, Man onely Misery knew.
[Page 85] Had Man but Knowledge, Ignorance to love,
Hee happy would have been, as Gods above.
Learning.
O Ignorance, how foolish thou dost talk!
I'st happinesse in Ignorance to walk?
Can there be Joy in Darknesse, more then Light?
Or Pleasure more in Blindnesse, then in Sight?

A Dialogue betwixt Riches, and Poverty.

Riches.
I, Wealth, can make all Men of each degree,
To crouch, and flatter, and to follow me.
I many Cities build, high, thick, and large,
And Armies raise, against each other charge:
I make them loose their Lives, for my deare sake,
Though when they're dead, they no Rewards can take.
I trample Truth under my Golden Feet,
And tread downe Innocence, that Flower sweet.
I gather Beauty, when tis newly blowne,
Reape Chastity, before tis over-growne.
I root out Vertue with a Golden Spade,
I cut of Justice with a Golden Blade.
Pride, and Ambition are my Vassals low,
And on their Heads I tread, as I do go:
And by Man-kind [...] more adorn'd am I,
Although but Earth, then the Bright Sun so high.
Poverty.
Riches, thou art a Slave, and runn'st about,
On every Errant thou com'st in, go'st out:
And Men of Honour set on thee no price,
Nor Honesty, nor Vertue can intice.
Some foolish Gamesters, which do love to play
At Cardes, and Dice, corrupt perchance you may:
A Silly [...] gather here, and there,
That doth gay Cloathes, and Jewels love to weare.
Some Poore, which hate their Neighbour Brave to see,
Perchance may seek, and love your Company.
And those that strive to please their Senses all,
If they want Health, if you passe by, will call.
On Age, tis true: you have a great, strong power;
For they imbrace you, though they dye next Houre.
Riches.
[Page 86]
You speake, poore Poverty, meere out of spight,
Because there's none with you doth take delight:
If you into Mans Company will thrust,
They call that Fortune ill, and most accurst.
Men are asham'd with them you should be seen,
You are so ragged, torne, and so uncleane.
When I come in, much Welcome do I find,
Great Joy there is, and Mirth in every Mind.
And every doore is open set, and wide,
And all within is busily imploy'd.
There Neighbours all invited are to see,
And proud they are in my deare Company.
Poverty.
Tis Prodigality you brag so on,
Which never lets you rest, till you are gone;
Calls in for help to beat you out of doores,
His deare Companions, Drunkards, Gamesters, Whores.
What though you're Brave, and Gay in outward Shew?
Within you are foule, and beastly, as you know.
Besides, Debauchery is like a Sink,
And you are Father to that filthy stink.
True, I am thread-bare, and am very leane;
Yet I am Decent, sweet, and very cleane.
I healthfull am, my Diet being spare:
You're full of Gouts, and Paines, and Surfets feare.
I am Industrious new Arts to find,
To ease the Body, and to please the Mind.
The World like to a VVildernesse would be,
If it were not for the Poores Industry.
For Poverty doth set awork the Braines,
And all the Thoughts to labour, and take paines.
The Mind nere idle sits, but is imploy'd:
Riches breed Sloth, and fill it full of Pride.
Riches, like a Sow, in its owne Mire lies;
But Poverty's light, and like a Bird still flyes.

A Dialogue betwixt Anger, and Pa­tience.

Patience.
ANger, why are you so hot, and siery red?
Or else so [...] as if you were quite dead?
Joynts seem unset, Flesh shakes, the Nerves grow Slack,
Your Spirits all disturb'd, your Senses lack.
Your Tongue doth move, but not a plaine word speak,
Or else words flow so thick, like Torrents great.
Anger.
Lord, what a [...] of dislike you tell!
If you were stung with wrong, your Mind would swell:
Your Spirits would be set on flame with Fire,
Or else grow chill with Cold, and back retire.
Patience.
Alas, it is for some supposed wrong:
Sometimes you have no ground to build upon.
Suspition is deceitfull, runs about,
And, for a Truth, it oft takes wrong, no doubt.
If you take False-hood, up, nere search them through,
You do a wrong to Truth, and your selfe too.
Besides, you're blind, and undiscerning flye
On every Object, though Innocence is by.
Anger.
O Patience, you are strict, and seem precise,
And Counsels give, as if you were so wise.
But you are cruell, and fit times will take
For your Revenge, and yet no show do make.
Your Browes [...], your Heart seemes not to burne,
Yet on Suspition will do a [...] turne.
But I am sudden, and do all in [...],
Yet in short time my [...] all is [...].
Though Anger be not right, but sometimes wrong,
The greatest Mischiese lies but in the Tongue.
But you do mischiese, and your time you'l find
To work Revenge, though quiet in your Mind.
[...].
If I take time, I clearly then can see,
To view the Cause, and seek for [...].
If I have wrong, my selfe I well may [...],
But I do wrong, if Innocence I strike.
[Page 88] The Knot of Anger by degrees unties;
Take of that Muffler from Discretions Eyes.
My Thoughts run cleare, and smooth, as Christall Brookes,
That every Face may see, that therein lookes.
Though I run low, yet wisely do I wind,
And many times through Mountaines passage find:
When you swell high, like to a flowing Sea,
For windy Passions cannot in rest be.
Where you are rould in VVaves, and tost about,
Tormented is, no passage can find out.
Angry.
Patience, your mouth with good words you do fill,
And preach Morality, but you act ill.
Besides, you seem a Coward full of feare,
Or like an Asse, which doth great Burthens beare.
Lets every Poultron at his will give blowes,
And every foole in scorne to wring your Nose.
Most of the VVorld do think you have no Sense,
Because not angry, nor take no Offence.
When I am thought right wise, and of great Merit,
Heroick, Valorous, and of great Spirit;
And every one doth feare me to offend,
And for to please me, all their Forces bend:
I flatter'd am, make Feare away to run:
Thus I am Master wheresoere I come.
A way you foolish Patience, give me rage,
That I in Wars may this great World ingage.
Patience.
O Anger thou art mad, there's none will care
For your great brags, but Fooles and cowardly Feare.
Which in weak Women, and small Children dwell;
VVisedome knowes you talk, more then fight, right well.
Besides, great Courage takes me by the hand,
That whilst he fights, I close by him may stand.
I Patience want, not Sense, Misfortunes t'espie,
Although I silent am, and do not cry.
Ill Accidents, and Griefe, I strive to cure,
What cannot help, with Courage, I indure.
Whilst you do vex your selfe with grievous Paines,
And nothing but Disturbance is your Gaines.
[Page 89] Let me give counsell, Anger, take't not ill,
That I do offer you my Patience still.
For you in danger live still all your life,
And [...] do, when you are hot in Strife.

A Dialogue between a Bountifull Knight, and a Castle ruin'd in VVar.

Knight.
ALas, poore Castle, how thou now art chang'd
From thy first Form! to me thou dost seem strange.
I left thee Comely, and in perfect health;
Now thou art wither'd, and decayed in VVealth.
Castle.
O Noble Sir, I from your Stock was rais'd,
Flourished in plenty, and by all Men prais'd:
For your Most Valiant Father did me build,
Your Brother furnish'd me, my Neck did gild:
And Towers on my Head like Crownes
The Crest in the Wainscot gilt.
were plac'd,
Like to a Girdle, Walls went round my Waste.
And on this pleasant Hill he set me high,
Viewing the Vales below, as they did lye.
Where every Feild, like Gardens, is inclos'd,
Where fresh green Grasse, and yellow Cowslips grow'd.
There did I see fat Sheep in Pastures go,
Hearing the Cowes, whose bags were full, to low.
By Wars am now destroy'd, all Right's o'repowr'd,
Beauty, and Innocency are devoured.
Before these Wars I was in my full Prime,
And thought the greatest Beauty in my time.
But Noble Sir, since I did see you last,
Within me hath a Garrison been plac'd.
Their Gunnes, and Pistols all about me hung,
And in despight their Bullets at me flung:
Which through my Sides they passages made out,
Flung downe my Walls, that circl'd me about.
And let my Rubbish on huge heapes to lye,
With Dust am choackt, for want of VVater, dry.
For those small Leaden Pipes, which winding lay,
Under the ground, the water to convey:
Were all cut off, the water murmuring,
Run back with Griefe to tell it to the Spring.
[Page 90] My Windowes all are broke, the wind blowes in,
With Cold I shake, with Agues shivering.
O pity me, deare Sir, release my Band,
Or let me dye by your most Noble hand.
Knight.
Alas, poore Castle, I small help can bring,
Yet shall my Heart supply the former Spring:
From whence the water of fresh teares shall rise,
To quench thy Drought, will spout them from mine Eyes.
That Wealth I have for to release thy woe,
Will offer for a Rausome to thy Foe.
Thy Health recover, and to build thy Wall,
I have not Meanes enough to do't withall.
Had I the Art, no paines that I would spare,
For what is broken downe, I would repaire.
Castle.
Most Noble Sir, you that me Freedome give,
May your great Name in after Ages live.
For this your Bounty may the Gods requite,
And keep you from such Enemies of Spight.
And may great Fame your Praises sound aloud:
Gods give me life to shew my Gratitude.

A Dialogue betwixt Peace, and VVar.

Peace.
WAR makes the Vulgar Multitude to drink
In at the Eare the foule, and muddy Sinck
Of Factious Tales, by which they dizzy grow,
That the cleare sight of Truth they do not know.
And reeling stand, know not what way to take,
But when they chuse, 'tis wrong, so a War make.
War.
Thou Flattering Peace, and most unjust, which drawes
The Vulgar by thy Rhet'rick to hard Lawes:
Which makes them silly Ones, content to be,
To take up Voluntary Slavery.
And mak'st great Inequalities beside,
Some like to Asses beare, others on Horsback ride.
Peace.
[Page 91]
O VVar, thou cruell Enemy to Life,
Vnquieted Neighbour, breeding alwaies Strife.
Tyrant thou art, to Rest will give no time,
And Blessed Peace thou punishest as a Crime.
Factions thou mak'st in every Publick-weale,
From Bonds of Friendship tak'st off Wax, and Seale.
On Naturall Affections thou dost make
A Massacre, that hardly one can 'scape.
The Root of all Religion thou pull'st up,
And every Branch of Ceremony cut.
Civill Society is turn'd to Manners base,
No Lawes, or Customes can by thee get place.
Each Mind within it selfe cannot agree,
But all do strive for Superiority:
In the whole World dost such disturbance make,
To save themselves none knowes what waies to take.
War.
O Peace, thou idle Drone, which lov'st to dwell,
If it but keep the safe, in a poore Cell.
Thy Life thou sleep'st away, Thoughts lazy lye.
Sloath buries Fame, makes all great Actions dye.
Peace.
J am the Bed of Rest, and Couch of Ease,
My Conversation doth all Creatures please.
I the Parent of Learning am, and Arts,
Nurse to Religion, and Comfort to all Hearts.
I am the Guardian, which keepes Vertue safe,
Under my Roose security shee hath.
I am adorn'd with Pastimes, and with Sports,
Each severall Creature still to me resorts.
War.
I a great Schoole am, where all may grow wise:
For Prudent Wisdome in Experience lyes.
And am a Theater to all Noble Minds,
A Mint of true Honour, that Valour still co ines.
I am a high Throne for Valour to sit,
And a great Court where all Fame may get.
I am a large Feild, where doth Ambition run,
Courage still seekes me, though Cowards me shun.

MORAL DISCOURSES.

A Discourse of Love, the Parent of Passions.

NO Mind can think, or Vnderstanding know,
To what a Height, and Vastnesse Love can grow.
Love, as a God, all Passions doth create
Besides it selfe, and those determinate.
Bowing downe low, devoutly prayeth Feare,
Sadnesse, and Griefe, Loves heavie burthens beare.
Anger Rage makes, Envie, Spleene, and Spight,
Like Thunder roares, and in Loves quarrels fight.
Jealousie, Loves [...] is t'espie,
And Doubt its Guide, to search where'ts Foe doth lye.
Pity, Loves Child, whose Eyes Teares overflow,
On every Object Misery can shew.
Hate is Loves Champion, which opposeth all
Loves Enemies, their Ruine, and their Fall.

A Discourse of Love neglected, burnt up with Griefe.

LOve is the Cause, and Hate is the Effect,
Which is produc'd, when Love doth find Neglect.
For Love, as Fire, doth on Fuell burne,
And Griefe, as Coles, when quench'd, to Blacknesse turne.
Thence pale, and Melancholy Ashes grow,
Which every Wind though weak dispersing blow.
For Life, and Strength from it is gone, and past,
With th' Species, which caus'd the Forme to last.
Which nere regaine the Form it had at first:
So Love is lost in Melancholy dust.

A Discourse of Pride.

WHat Creature in the VVorld, besides Man-kind,
That can such Arts, and new Inventions find?
Or hath such Fancy, as to Similize,
Or that can rule, or governe as the VVise?
And by his VVit he can his Mind indite,
As Numbers set, and subtle Letters write.
What Creature else, but [...], can speak true sense?
At distance give, and take Intelligence?
What Creature else, by Reason can abate
All Passions, raise Doubts, Hopes, Love, and Hate?
And can so many Countenances shew?
They are the ground by which Affections grow.
The're severall Dresses, which the Mind puts on.
Some serve as Veiles, which over it is throwne.
What Creature is there hath such peircing Eyes,
That mingles Soules, and a fast Friend-ship tyes?
What Creature else, but Man, hath such Delights,
So various, and such strong odd Appetites?
Man can distill, and is a Chymist rare,
Divides, and separates, VVater, Fire, and Aire.
Thus can [...] divide, and separate
All Natures work, what ere she made:
Can take the Breadth, and Heighth of things,
Or know the Vertue of all Plants that springs:
Makes Creatures all submit unto his will,
Makes Fame to live, though Death his Body kill.
What else, but Man, can Nature imitate,
With Pen, and Pencill can new Worlds create?
There's none like Man, for like to Gods is he:
Then let the World his Slave, and Vassall be.

Of Ambition.

TEN Thousand Pounds a yeare will make me live:
A Kingdome, Fortune then to me must give.
I'le conquer all, like Alexander Great,
And, like to Caesar, my Opposers beat,
[Page 94] Give me a Fame, that with the World may last,
Let all Tongues tell of my great Actions past.
Let every Child, when first tis taught to speak,
Repeat my Name, my Memory for to keep.
And then great Fortune give to me thy power,
To ruine Man, and raise him in an Houre.
Let me command the Fates, and spin their thread;
And Death to stay his Sithe, when I forbid.
And, Destiny, give me your Chaines to tye,
Effects from Causes to produce thereby.
And let me like the Gods on high become,
That nothing can but by my will be done.

Of Humility.

WHen with returning Thoughts my selfe behold,
I find all Creatures else made of that Mould.
And for the Mind, which some say is like Gods,
I do not find, 'twixt Man, and Beast such oddes:
Onely the Shape of Men is fit for use,
Which makes him seem much wiser then a Goose.
For had a Goose (which seemes of simple Kind)
A Shape to form, and fit things to his Mind:
To make such Creatures as himselfe obey,
Could hunt and shoot those that would 'scape away;
As wise would seem as Man, be as much fear'd,
As when the Coose comes neere, the Man be fear'd.
Who knowes but Beasts may wiser then Men bee?
We no such Errours, or Mistakes can see.
Like quiet Men besides they joy in rest,
To eat, and drink in Peace, they think it best.
Their Food is all they seek, the rest think vaine,
[...] not unto Eternity remaine.
Despise not Beast, nor yet be proud of Art,
But Nature thank, for forming so each Part.
And since your Knowledge is begot by form,
Let not your Pride that Reason overcome.
For if that Motion in your Braine workes best,
Despise not Beast, cause Motion is deprest.
Nor proud of Speech, 'cause Reason you can shew,
For Beast hath Reason too, for all we know.
[Page 95] But Shape the Mind informes with what doth find,
Which being taught, is wiser then Beast-kind.

Of Riches, or Covetousnesse.

WHat will not [...] in abundance do,
Or make the Mind of Man submit unto?
It bribes out Vertue from her strongest hold,
It makes the Coward valorous, and bold:
It corrupts Chastity, meltes Thoughts of Ice,
And bashfull Modesty it doth intice.
It makes the humble, proud, and Meek to swell,
Destroies all Loyalty, makes Hearts rebell.
It doth unty the Knots of Friend-ship fast,
Naturall Affections away to cast.
It cuts th' Innocents Throat, and Hearts divide;
It buyes out Conscience, doth each Cause decide.
It makes Man venture Life, and Limb,
So much is Wealth desir'd by him.
It buies out Heaven, and casts Soules to Hell,
For Man to get this Muck his God will sell.

Of Poverty.

I live in low Thatcht House, Roomes small, my Cell
Not big enough for Prides great Heart to dwell.
My Roomes are not with Stately Cedars built,
No Marble Chimney-peece, nor Wainscot gilt.
No Statues cut, or carv'd, nor cast in Brasse,
Which, had they Life, would Natures Art surpasse.
Nor painted Pictures which Appelles drew,
There's nought but Lime, and Haire homely to view;
No Agget Table, with a Tortoise Frame,
Nor Stooles stuft with Birds feathers, wild, or tame.
But a Stump of an old decayed Tree,
And Stooles with three legs, which halfe lame they bee,
Cut with a Hatchet from some broken Boughes.
And this is all which Poverty allowes;
Yet it is free from Cares, no Theeves do feare,
The Doore stands open, all is welcome there.
[Page 96] Not like the Rich, who Guests doth entertaine,
With cruelty to Birds, Beasts that are slaine
Who [...] their Bodies with their melted Grease,
And by their Flesh their Bodies fat increase.
We need no Cook, nor Skill to dresse our Meat;
For Nature dresses most of what we cate:
As Roots, and Herbes, not such as Art doth sow,
But such in Feilds which naturally grow.
Our wooden Cups we from the Spring do fill,
Which is the Wine-presse of great Nature still.
When rich Men they, for to delight their tast,
[...] out the Juice from Earth, her strength do wast:
For, Bearing often, shee will grow so leane,
A [...], for Bones bare Earth is seen.
And for their Drink, the subtle Spirits take
Both from the Barley, and the sull-ripe Grape.
Thus by their Luxury, their life they wast,
All the ir delight is still to please their tast.
This heates the Mind with an ambitious fire,
None happy is; but in a low desire.
Their desires run, they six themselves no where,
What they have, or can have, they do not care.
What they injoy not, long for, and admire,
Sick for that want; so restlesse is desire.
When we from Labours come, blest with a quiet sleep:
No [...] [...] our Sense awake doth keep.
All's still and silent, in our House, and Mind,
Our Thoughts are chearfull, and our Hearts are kind.
And though that life in Motion still doth dwell,
Yet rest in life a poore Man loveth well.

Of Tranquillity.

THat Mind which would in Peace, and quiet be,
Must cast off Cares, and foolish Vanity.
With honest desires a house must build,
Upon the ground of Honour, and be seild
With constant Resolutions, to last long,
Rais'd on the Pillars of Justice strong.
Let nothing dwell there, but Thoughts right holy,
Turne out Ignorance, and rude rash folly.
[Page 97] There will the Mind injoy it selfe in Pleasure,
For, to it [...], it is the greatest Treasure.
For, they are poore, whose Mind is discontent,
What Joy they have, it is but to them lent.
The World is like unto a troubled Sea,
Life as a Barque, made of a rotten Tree.
Where every [...] ave indangers it to split,
And drown'd it is, if 'gainst a Rock it hit.
But if this Barque be made with Temperance strong,
It mounts the Waves, and Voyages takes long.
If Discretion doth, as the Pilot guide,
It scapes all Rocks, still goes with Wind, and Tide.
Where Love, as Merchant, trafficks up to Heaven,
And, for his Prayers, he hath Mercies given.
[...], as Factor, sets the price of things,
Tranquillity, as Buyers, in the Money brings.

Of the Shortnesse of Mans Life, and his foolish Ambition.

IN Gardens sweet, each Flower mark did J,
How they did spring, bud, blow, wither, and dye.
With that, contemplating of Mans short stay,
Saw Man like to those Flowers passe away.
Yet build they Houses, thick, and strong, and high,
As if they should live to Eternity.
Hoard up a Masse of Wealth, yet cannot fill
His Empty Mind, but covet he will still.
To gaine, or keep such Falshhood Men do use,
Wrong Right, and Truth, no base waies will refuse.
I would not blame them, could they Death out keep,
Or ease their Paines, or cause a quiet Sleep.
Or buy Heavens Mansions, so like Gods become,
And by it, rule the Stars, the Moon, and Sun.
Command the Windes to blow, Seas to obey,
To levell all their Waves, to cause the Windes to stay.
Bnt they no power have, unlesse to dye,
And Care in Life is a great Misery.
[Page 98] This Care is for a word, an empty sound,
Which neither Soule nor Substance in is found.
Yet as their Heire, they make it to inherit,
And all they have, they leave unto this Spirit.
To get this Child of Fame, and this Bareword,
They feare no Dangers, neither Fire, nor Sword.
All horrid Paines, and Death they will indure,
Or any thing that can but Fame procure.
O Man, O Man, what high Ambition growes,
Within your Braine, and yet how low he goes!
To be contented onely in a Sound,
Where neither Life, nor Body can be found.

A Morall Discourse betwixt Man, and Beast.

MAN is a Creature like himselfe alone,
In him all qualities do joyne as one.
When Man is injurd, and his Honour stung,
He seemes a Lion, furious, feirce, and strong.
With greedy Covetousnesse, like to Wolves, and Beares,
Devoures Right, and Truth in peeces teares.
Or like as crafty Foxes lye in wait,
To catch young Novice-Kids by their deceit;
So subtill Knaves do watch, who Errours make,
That they thereby Advantages might take.
Not for Examples them to rectisie,
But that much Mischiefe they can make thereby.
Others, like Crouching Spaniels, close will set,
Creeping about the Partridge too in Net.
Some humble seem, aud lowly bend the Knee,
To those which have Power, and Authority:
Not out of Love to Honour, or Renoune,
But to insnare, and so to pull them downe.
Or as a Mastiff flyes at every [...],
So Spight will flye at all, that is of note.
With Slanderous words, as Teeth, good Deeds out teare,
Which neither Power, nor Strength, nor Greatnesse spare.
And are so mischievous, love not to see
Any to live without an Infamy.
[Page 99] Most like to ravenous Beasts in blood delight,
And onely to do mischiefe, love to fight.
But some are like to Horses, strong, and free,
Will gallop over Wrong, and Injury.
Who feare no Foe, nor Enemies do dread,
Will fight in Battells till they fall downe dead.
Their Heart with noble rage so hot will grow,
As from their [...] Cloudes of Smoake do blow.
And with their Hoofes the firm hard ground will strike,
In anger, that they cannot go to fight.
Their Eyes (like Flints) will beat out Sparkes of Fire,
Will neigh out loud, when Combates they desire.
So valiant Men their Foe aloud will call,
To try their Strength, and grapple Armes withall.
And in their Eyes such Courage doth appeare,
As if that Mars did rule that [...].
Some like to slow, dull Asses, full of Feare,
Contented are great Burthens for to beare.
And every Clowne doth beat his Back, and Side,
Because hee's slow, when fast that he would ride.
Then will he bray out loud, but dare not bite;
For why, he hath not Courage for'to fight.
Base Mindes will yeild their Heads under the Toake,
Offer their Backs to every Tyrants stroke.
Like Fooles will grumble, but they dare not speak,
Nor strive for Liberty, their Bonds to break.
Those that in Slavery live, so dull will grow,
Dejected Spirits make the Body slow.
Others as Swine lye groveling in the Mire,
Have no Heroick Thoughts to rise up higher:
They from their Birth, do never sport, nor play,
But eat, and drink, and grunting, run away:
Of grumbling Natures, never doing good,
And cruell are, as of a Boorish Brood.
So Gluttons, Sluggards care for nought but ease,
In Conversations will not any please:
Ambition none, to make their Name to live;
Nor have they Generosity to give:
And are so Churlish, that if any pray
To help their Wants, will cursing go away.
[Page 100] So cruell are, so far fom death to save,
That they will take away the Life they have.
Some like to fearefull Hart, or frighted Hare,
Shun every noise, and their owne Shadowes feare.
So Cowards, that are sent in Wars to fight,
Think not to beat, but how to make their flight.
When Trumpet sounds to charge the Foe, it [...],
And with that noise, the Heart [...] Coward falls.
Others as harmlesse Sheep in peace do live,
Contented are, no Injury will give:
But on the tender Grasse they gently feed,
Which do no Spight, nor ranckled Malice breed.
They never in the waies of mischiefe stood,
To set their Teeth in flesh, or drink up blood.
They grieve to walk alone, will pine away,
Grow fat in Flockes, will with each other play.
The naked they do cloath with their soft Wool,
The [...] do feed the hungry Stomack full.
So gentle Nature's Disposition sweet
Shuns foolish Quarrels, loves the Peace to keep.
Full of Compassion, pitying the distrest,
And with their Bounty help they the opprest.
They swell not with the Pride of self-conceit,
Nor for their Neighbours life do lye in wait.
Nor Innocence by their Extortions teare,
Nor fill the [...] Heart with Griefe, or Care:
Nor Bribes will take with covetous hands,
Nor set they back the Mark of th' Owners Lands.
But with a gratefull Heart do still returne
The Curtesies that have for them been done.
And in their Conversation, meek, and mild,
Without Lascivious words, or Actions wild.
Those Men are Fathers to a Common-wealth,
Where Justice lives, and Truth may shew her selfe.
Others as Apes do imitate the rest,
And when they mischiefe do, seem but to jest.
So are [...], that seem for Mirth to sport,
Whose liberty fills Factions in a Court.
Those that delight in Fooles, must in good part
Take what they say, although the words are smart.
[Page 101] But many times such ranckled Thoughts beget
In Hearts of Princes, and much Envie set,
By praising Rivalls; or else do reveale
Those Faults, most fit for privacy to conceale,
For though a Foole, if he an ill truth tells,
Or be it false, if like a Truth it smels;
It gets such hold though in a wise mans Braine,
That hardly it will ever out againe.
And so like Wormes, some will be troad to Earth,
Others as venemous Vipers stung to death.
Some like to subtle Serpents wind about,
To compasse their designes craulein, and out:
And never leave untill some Nest they find,
Sucke out the Eggs, and leave the Shels behind.
So Flatterers with Praises wind about
A Noble Mind, to get a Secret out,
For Flattery through every Eare will glide,
Downe to the Heart, and there some time abide;
And in the Brest with feigned Friend-ship lye,
Till to the Death he stings him cruelly.
Thus some as Birds, and Beasts, and Flies, are such:
To every Creature men resemble much.
Some, like to soaring Eagle, mount up high:
Wings of Ambition beare them to the Skie.
Or, like to Hawkes, flye [...] to catch their Prey,
Or like to [...], beare the Chick away.
Some like to Ravens, which on Carrion feed,
And some their spight feed on, what slanders breed.
Some like to Peacock proud, his taile to shew:
So men, that Followers have, will haughty grow.
Some Melancholy Owles, that hate the Light,
And as the Bat flyes in the Shades of Night:
So Envious Men their Neighbour hate to see,
When that he Shines in great Prosperity:
Keep home in discontent, repine at all,
Until some Mischiefe on the Good do fall.
Others, as chearfull Larkes, sing as they flye.
So men are merry, wich have no Envie.
And some as Nightingales do sweetly sing,
As Messengers, when they good Newes do bring.
[Page 102] Thus Men, Birds, Beasts, in Humours much agree,
But severall Properties in these there bee.
Tis proper for a lively Horse to neigh,
And for a slow, dull foolish Asse to bray.
For Dogs to bark, [...] roare, Wolves houle, Pigs [...],
For Men to frowne, to weep, to laugh, to speake.
Proper for Flyes to buzze, Birds sing, and chatter,
Onely for Men to promise, sweare, and flatter:
So Men these Properties can imitate,
But not their Faculties that Nature made.
Men have no Wings to flye up to the Skie,
Nor can they like to Fish in waters lye.
What Man like Roes can run so swift, and long?
Nor are they like to Horse, or Lions strong.
Nor have they Sent, like Dogs, a Hare to find,
Or Sight like Swine to see the subtle wind.
Thus severall Creatures, by severall Sense,
Have better far (then Man) Intelligence.
These severall Creatures, severall Arts do well,
But Man in generall, doth them far excell.
For Arts in Men as well did Nature give,
As other qualities in Beast to live.
And from Mens Braines such fine Inventions flow,
As in his Head all other heads do grow.
What Creature builds like Man such Stately Towers,
And make such things, as Time cannot devoure?
What Creature makes such Engines as Man can?
To traffick, and to use at Sea, and Land.
To kill, to spoile, or clse alive to take,
Destroying all that other Creatures make.
This makes Man seem of all the World a King,
Because hee power hath of every thing.
He'l teach Birds words, in measure Beast to go,
Makes Passions in the Mind, to ebb, and flow.
And though he cannot flye as Birds, with wings,
Yet he can take the height, and breadth of things.
He knowes the course and number of the Stars,
But Birds, and Beasts are no Astrologers.
And though he cannot like to Fishes swim,
Yet Nets Ho makes, to catch those Fishes in.
[Page 103] And with his Ships hee'l circle the World round.
What Beast, or Bird that can do so, is found?
Hee'l fell downe Woods, with Axes sharp will strike;
Whole Heards of Beasts can never do the like.
What Beast can plead, to save anothers Life,
Or by his Eloquence can end a Strife?
Or Counsels give, great Dangers for to shun,
Or tell the Cause, or how Eclipses come?
Hee'l turne the Current of the Water cleare,
And make them like new Seas for to appeare.
Where Fishes onely in old waters glide.
Can cut new Rivers out on any side.
Hee Mountaines makes so high, the Cloudes will touch,
Mountaines of Moles, or Ants, scarce do so much.
What Creature like to Man can Reasons shew,
Which makes him know, that he thereby doth know?
And who, but Man, makes use of every thing,
As Goodnesse out of Poyson Hee can bring?
Thus [...] is filled a with strong Desire,
And by his Rhet'rick sets the Soule on Fire.
Beasts no Ambition have to get a Fame,
Nor build they Tombes, thereon to write their Name.
They never war, high Honour for to get,
But to secure themselves, or Meat to eat.
But Men are like to Gods, they live for ever shall;
And Beasts are like themselves, to Dust shall fall.

Of the Ant.

MArk but the little Ant, how she doth run,
In what a busie motion [...] goeth on:
As if the ordered all the Worlds Affaires;
When tis but onely one small Straw shee bearcs.
But when they find a Flye, which on the ground lyes dead,
Lord, how they stir; so full is every Head.
Some with their Feet, and Mouths, draw it along,
Others their Tailes, and Shoulders thrust it on.
And if a Stranger Ant comes on that way,
Shee helpes them strait, nere asketh if shee may.
Nor staies to ask Rewardes, but is well pleas'd:
Thus paies her selfe with her owne Paines, their Ease.
[Page 104] They live as the Lacedemonians did,
All is in Common, nothing is forbid.
No Private Feast, but altogether meet,
Whole some, though Plaine, in Publick do they eat.
They have no Envie, all Ambition's downe,
There is no Superiority, or Clowne.
No Stately Palaces for Pride to dwell,
Their House is Common, called the [...] Hill.
All help to build, and keep it in repaire,
No 'speciall work-men, all Labourers they are.
No [...] keep, no [...] they have to sell,
For what each one doth eat, all welcome is, and well.
No Jealousie, each takes his Neighbours Wife,
Without Offence, which never breedeth [...].
Nor fight they Duels, nor do give the Lye,
Their greatest Honour is to live, not dye.
For they, to keep in life, through Dangers run,
To get Provisions in 'gainst Winter comes.
But many loose their Life, as Chance doth fall,
None is perpetuall, Death devoures all.

A Morall Description of Corne.

THE yellow Bearded Corne bowes downe each Head,
Like Gluttons, when their Stomack's over-fed.
Or like to those whose Wealth make heavie Cares,
So doth the full-ripe Corne bow downe their Eares.
Thus Plenty, makes Oppression, given small [...];
And [...] is a Disease.
Yet all that Nature makes, aspiring runs
Still for ward for to get, nere backward turnes;
Untill the Sight of Death doth lay them low,
Upon the Earth, from whence at first they grow.
Then who would hoard up Wealth, and take such paines,
Since nothing but the Earth hath all the Gaines?
No Riches are, but what the Mind doth keep:
And they are poore, who from the Earth do seek.
For Time, that feeds on Life, makes all things fall,
Is never satisfied, yet eates up all.
Then let the Mindes of Men in peace to rest,
And count a Moderation still the best:
[Page 105] Nor grumble not, nor covet Natures Store,
For those that are content, can nere be poore.
And blesse the Gods, submit to their [...],
Think all things best, what they are pleas'd shall [...].
For he that murmures at what cannot mend,
Is one that takes a thing at the wrong End.

A Discourse of Beasts.

WHO knowes; but Beasts, as they do lye,
In Meadowes low, or else on Mountaines high?
But that they do contemplate on the Sun,
And how his daily, yearely Circles run.
Whether the Sun about the Earth doth rove,
Or else the Earth upon its owne Poles move.
And in the Night, when twinkling Stars we see,
Like Man, imagines them all Suns to bee.
And may like Man, Stars, Planets number well,
And could they speak, they might their Motions tell.
And how the Planets in each Orbe do move:
'Gainst their Astrology no Man can prove.
For they may know the Stars, and their Aspects,
What [...] they cast, and their Effects.

Of Fishes.

WHO knowes, but Fishes which swim in the Sea,
Can give a Reason, why so Salt it be?
And how it Ebbs and Flowes, perchance they can
Give [...], for which never yet could Man.

Of Birds.

WHO knowes; but Birds which in the Aire flyes,
Do know from whence the Blustring Winds do rise?
May know what Thunder is, which no Man knowes,
And what's a blazing Star, or where it goes.
Whether it be a Chip, fallen from the Sun,
And so goes out, when Aliment is done.
Whether a Sulphurous Vapour drawne up high,
And when the Sulphure's spent, the Flame doth dye.
[Page 106] Or whether it be a Gelly set on Fire,
And wasting like a Candle doth expire.
Or whether it be a Star wholly intire,
Perchance might know of Birds, could we inquire.

Earths Complaint.

O Nature, Nature, hearken to my Cry,
Each [...] wounded am, but cannot dye.
My Children which I from my Womb did beare,
Do dig my Sides, and all my [...] teare:
Do plow deep Furroughs in my very Face,
From Torment, I have neither time, nor place.
No other Element is [...] abus'd,
Nor by Man-kind so [...] is us'd.
Man cannot reach the Skies to plow, and sow,
Nor can they [...], or mark the Stars to grow.
But they are still as Nature first did plant,
Neither Maturity, nor Growth they want.
They never dye, nor do they yeild their place
To younger Stars, but still run their owne Race.
The Sun doth never groane young Suns to beare,
For he himselfe is his owne Son, and Heire.
The Sun just in the Center sits, as King,
The Planets round about incircle him.
The slowest Orbes over his Head turne slow,
And underneath, the [...] Planets go.
Each severall Planet, severall measures take,
And with their Motions they sweet Musick make.
Thus all the Planets round about him move,
And he returnes them Light for their kind Love.

A Discourse of a Knave.

A Prosperous Knave, that Mischieses still doth plot,
Swels big with Pride, since he hath power got.
Whose Conscience, like a Purse, drawne open wide,
False hands do [...] in Bribes on every side.
And as the Guts are stuft with Excrement,
So is his Head with Thoughts of ill intent,
[Page 107] Compassions none, for them [...] pres'd with Griese,
But yet is apt to pity much a Thiefe.
Hee thinkes them Fooles, that wickednesse do shun,
Esteemes them wise, which Evill waies do run.
He scornes the Noble, if that they be poore,
The Rich, though nere so base, he doth adore.
He alwaies [...], as if he [...] still meant,
When all the while his [...] is evill bent.
A Seeming friend-ship, large Professions make,
Where he doth think Advantages to take.
Thus doth a [...] [...] the World abuse,
To work his End, the [...] a Friend will chuse.

Of a Foole.

I hate your Fooles, for they my [...] do crack,
And when they speak, my Patience's on the Rack,
Their Actions all from Reason quite do run,
Their Ends prove bad, 'cause ill they first begun.
They [...] from Wisedome, do her Counsels feare,
As if some Ruine ncere their [...] there were.
They seek the [...], let the Substance go,
And what is good, or best, they do not know.
Yet stiff in their Opinions, Stuborne, strong,
Although you bray them, sayeth Salomon.
As Spiders Webs intangle little Flies,
So Fooles wrapt up in Webs of Errours lyes.
Then comes the Spider, Flies with Poyson sills,
So Mischiefe, after Errours, Fooles oft kills.

A Discourse of Melancholy.

A Sad, and solemne Verse doth please the Mind,
With Chaines of Passions doth the Spirits bind.
As Pensil'd Pictures drawne presents the Night,
Whose Darker Shadowes give the Eye delight;
[...] Aspects invite the [...],
And alwaies have a seeming Majesty.
By its Converting Qualities, there growes
A Perfect Likenesse, when it selfe it shewes.
[Page 108] Then let the World in mourning sit, and weep,
Since onely Sadnesse we are apt to keep.
In light and Toyish things we seek for Change,
The Mind growes weary, and about doth range.
What Serious is, there Constancies will dwell;
Which shewes that Sadnesse Mirth doth far excell.
Why should Men grieve when they do think of Death,
Since they no settlement can have in [...]?
The Grave, though sad, in quiet still they keep,
Without disturbing [...] they lye a sleep.
No rambling Thoughts to vex their restlesse Braines,
Nor Labour hard, to scortch, and dry their Veines.
No care to search for that, they cannot find,
Which is an Appetite to every Mind.
Then [...], good Man, to dye in quiet Peace,
Since Death in Misery is a Release.

A Discourse of the Power of Devils.

WOmen, and Fooles, feare in the Dark to be;
They think the Devill in some Shape should see:
As if like silly Owles, he takes delight,
To sleep all Day, then goes abroad at Night.
To beat the Pots, and Pans, Candles blow out,
And all the Night to keep a [...]-rout.
To make the Sow to grunt, the Pigs to squeek,
The Dogs to bark, Cats mew, as if they speak.
Alas, poore Devill, whose Power is small,
Onely to make a Cat, or Dog to baule:
And with the [...], [...] to make a noise,
To stew with fearfull sweat [...] Girles, and Boies.
Why should we feare him, [...] he doth no harm?
For we may bind him fast within a Charm.
Then what a Devill ailes a Woman Old,
To play such Tricks, to give away her Soule?
Can he destroy Man-kind, or new Worldes make,
Or alter States for an Old Womans sake?
Or put Day-light out, or stop the Sun,
Or change the Planets from their course to run?
And yet methinkes tis odd, and very strange,
That since the Devils cannot Bodies change,
[Page 109] Should have such power over Soules, to draw
Them from their God, and from his holy Law.
Perswading Conscience to do more ill,
Then the sweet Grace of God to rule the Will:
To cut of Faith, by which our Soules should climbe,
To make us leave our Folly, and our Crime:
Destroying Honesty, disgracing Truth;
Yet can He neither make Old Age, nor Youth.
Nor can he add, or take a Minute short;
Yet many Soules he keepes from Heavens Court.
It seemes, his Power shall for ever last,
Because tis on the Soule, which never wast.
And thus hath God the Devill Power lent,
To punish Man, unlesse he doth repent.

THE CLASPE:

GIVE Mee the Free, and Noble Stile,
Which seems [...], though it be wild:
Though It runs wild about, It cares not where;
It shewes more Courage, then It doth of Feare.
Give me a Stile that Nature frames, not Art:
[...] or Art doth seem to take the Pedants part.
And that seemes Noble, which is Easie, Free,
Not to be bound with ore-nice Pedantry.

The Hunting of the Hare.

BEtwixt two Ridges of [...]-land, lay Wat,
Pressing his Body close to Earth lay squat.
His Nose upon his two Fore-feet close lies,
Glaring obliquely with his great gray Fyes.
His Head he alwaies sets against the Wind;
If turne his Taile his Haires blow up behind:
Which he too cold will grow, but he is wise,
And keepes his Coat still downe, so warm he lies.
Thus resting all the day, till Sun doth set,
Then riseth up, his Reliefe for to get.
Walking about until the Sun doth rise,
Then back returnes, downe in his Forme he lyes.
At last, Poore Wat was found, as he there lay,
By Hunts-men, with their Dogs which came that way.
Seeing, gets up, and fast begins to run,
Hoping some waies the [...] Dogs to shun.
But they by Nature have so quick a Sent,
That by their Nose they trace what way he went.
And with their deep, wide Mouths set forth a Cry,
Which answer'd was by Ecchoes in the Skie.
Then Wat was struck with Terrour, and with Feare,
Thinkes every Shadow still the Dogs they were.
And running out some distance from the noise,
To hide himselfe, his Thoughts he new imploies.
[Page 111] Under a Clod of Earth in Sand-pit wide,
Poore Wat fat close, hoping himselfe to hide.
There long he [...] not sat, but strait his Eares
The Winding [...], and crying Dogs he heares:
Starting with Feare, up leapes, then doth he run,
And with such speed, the Ground scarce treades upon.
Into a great thick Wood [...] strait way gets,
Where underneath a broken Bough he sits.
At every Lease that with the wind did shake,
Did bring such [...], made his Heart to ake.
That Place he left, to Champian Plaines he went,
Winding about, for to deceive their Sent.
And while they [...] were, to sind his Track,
Poore Wat, being weary, his swift pace did slack.
On his two hinder legs for ease did sit,
His Fore-feet rub'd his Face from Dust, and Sweat.
Licking his Feet, he wip'd his Eares so cleane,
That none could tell that Wat had hunted been.
But casting round about his faire great Eyes,
The Hounds in full Careere he [...] him 'spies:
To Wat it was so terrible a Sight,
Feare gave him Wings, and made his Body light.
Though weary was before, by running long,
Yet now his Breath he never felt more strong.
Like those that dying are, think Health returnes,
When tis but a faint Blast, which Life out burnes.
For Spirits seek to guard the Heart about,
Striving with Death, but Death doth quench them out.
Thus they so fast came on, with such loud Cries,
That he no hopes hath left, nor help espies.
With that the Winds did pity poore Wats case,
And with their Breath the Sent blew from the Place.
Then every Nose is busily imployed,
And every Nostrill is set open, wide:
And every Head doth seek a severall way,
To find what [...], or Track, the Sent on lay.
Thus quick Industry, that is not slack,
Is like to Witchery, brings lost things back.
For though the Wind had [...] the Sent up close,
A Busie Dog thrust in his [...] Nose:
[Page 112] And drew it out, with it did foremost run,
Then Hornes blew loud, for th' rest to follow on.
The great slow-Hounds, their throats did set a Base,
The Fleet swift Hounds, as Tenours next in place;
The little Beagles they a Trebble sing,
And through the Aire their Voice a round did ring?
Which made a Consort, as they ran along;
If they but words could speak, might sing a Song,
The Hornes kept time, the Hunters shout for Joy,
And valiant seeme, poore Wat for to destroy:
Spurring their Horses to a full Careere,
Swim Rivers deep, leap Ditches without feare;
Indanger Life, and Limbes, so fast will ride,
Onely to see how patiently Wat died.
For why, the Dogs so neere his Heeles did get,
That they their sharp Teeth in his Breech did set.
Then tumbling downe, did fall with weeping Eyes,
Gives up his Ghost, and thus poore Wat he dies.
Men hooping loud, such Acclamations make,
As if the Devill they did Prisoner take.
When they do but a shiftlesse Creature kill;
To hunt, there needs no Valiant Souldiers skill.
But Man doth think that Exercise, and Toile,
To keep their Health, is best, which makes most spoile.
Thinking that Food, and Nourishment so good,
And Appetite, that feeds on Flesh, and Blood.
When they do Lions, Wolves, Beares, Tigers see,
To kill poore Sheep, strait say, they cruell be.
But for themselves all Creatures think too few,
For Luxury, wish God would make them new.
As if that God made Creatures for Mans meat,
To give them Life, and Sense, for Man to eat;
Or else for Sport, or Recreations sake,
Destroy those Lifes that God saw good to make:
Making their Stomacks, Graves, which full they fill
With Murther'd Bodios, that in sport they kill.
Yet Man doth think himselfe so gentle, mild,
When he of Creatures is most cruell wild.
And is so Proud, thinks onely he shall live,
That God a God-like Nature did him give.
[Page 113] And that all Creatures for his sake alone,
Was made for him, to Tyramize upon.

The hunting of the Stag.

THere was a Stag did in the Forrest lye,
Whose Neck was long, and Hornes branch'd up high.
His Haunch was broad, Sides large, and Back was long,
His Legs were Nervous, and his Joynts were strong.
His Haire lay sleek, and smooth upon his Skin,
None in the Forrest might compare with him.
In Summers heat he in coole Brakes him laies,
Which grew so high, kept of the Suns hot Raies.
In Evenings coole, or dewy Mornings new,
Would he rise up, and all the Forrest view.
Then walking to some cleare, and Christall Brook,
Not for to Drink, but on his Hornes to look:
Taking such Pleasure in his Stately Crowne,
His Pride forgets that Dogs might pull him downe.
From thence unto a Shady Wood did go,
Where Streightest Pines, and tallest Cedars grow;
And upright Olives, which th' loving Vine oft twines,
And slender Birch bowes head *
Good Mines are found out by the Birches bowing.
to golden Mines.
Small Aspen [...] which shakes like Agues cold,
That from perpetuall Motion never hold.
The sturdy Oake on Foamy Scas doth ride,
Firre, which tall Masts doth make, where Sailes are tied.
The weeping Maple, and the Poplar green,
Whose Cooling Buds in Salves have healing been.
The Fatting Chestnut, and the Hasle small,
The Smooth-rind Eeech, which groweth large, and tall.
The Loving Myrtle is for Amorous kind,
The yeilding Willow, as inconstant Mind.
The Cypres sad, which makes the Funerall Hearse,
And Sicomors, where Lovers write their Verse:
And Juniper, which gives a pleasant smell,
And many more, which were too long to tell.
Round from their Sappy Roots sprout Branches small,
Some call it Vnder-wood, that's never tall.
There walking through, the Stag was hindred much,
The bending Twigs his Hornes would often catch.
[Page 114] While on the tender [...], and [...] did bronse,
His Fyes were troubl'd [...] the broken [...].
Then strait He seaks this Labyrinth to unwind,
But hard it was his first way out to find.
Unto this Wood a rising [...] did joyne,
Where grew [...] Margerom, and sweet wild Time:
And Winter-savory which was never set,
On which the Stag delighted much to eat.
But looking downe upon the [...] low,
He sees the Grasse, and [...] thick to grow;
And Springs, which dig themselves a Passage out,
Much like as Serpents wind cach Feild about.
Rising in Winter high, do over-flow,
The Flowry Banks, but rich the Soile doth grow.
So as he went, thinking therein to feed,
He saw a Feild, which sow'd was with Wheat Seed.
The Blades were growne a hand-full high, and more,
Which Sight his Tast did soon invite him o're.
In hast goes on, feeds full, then downe he lies,
The Owner coming there, he soon espies:
Strait call'd his Dogs to hunt him from that place,
At last it came to be a Forrest Chase.
The Chase grew hot, the Stag apace did run,
Dogs followed close, and Men for sport did come.
At last a Troop of Men, Horse, Dogs did meet,
Which made the Hart to try his Nimble Feet.
Full swift he was, his Hornes he bore up high,
Then Men did shout, the Dogs ran yelping by:
And Bugle Hornes with severall Notes did blow,
Hunts-men to crosse the Stag did side-waies go.
The Horses beat their Hooses against dry ground,
Raising such Clouds of dust their waies searce found.
Their Sides ran downe with Sweat, as if they were
New come from watring, dropping every Haire.
The Dogs their Tongues out of their Months hung long,
Their Sides did beat like Feaverish Pulse so strong.
Their Short Ribbs heave up high, then fall downe low,
As Bellowes draw in wind the same to blow.
Men tawny grew, the Sun their Skins did turne,
Their Mouths were dry, their Bowels felt to [...].
[Page 115] The Stag so hot as Coles, when kindled through,
Yet swiftly ran, when he the Dogs did view.
Coming at length unto a Rivers side,
Whose Current flow'd, as with a falling Tide:
Where he leapes in to quench his scortching heat,
To wash his Sides, to coole his burning Feet.
Hoping the Dogs in water could not swim,
But hee's deceiv'd, the Dogs do enter in;
Like Fishes, try'd to swim in water low:
But out alas, his Hornes too high do shew.
When Dogs were cover'd over Head, and Eares,
No part is seen, onely their Nose appeares.
The Stag, and River, like a Race did shew,
He striving still the swift River to out-go.
Whilst Men, and Horses ran the Banks along,
Encouraging the Dogs to follow on:
Where he on waters, like a Looking-glasse,
By a Reflection sees their Shadowes passe.
[...] cuts his Breath off short, his Limbs do shrink,
Like those the Cramp doth take, to bottom sink.
Thus out of Breath, no longer could he stay,
But leapes on Land, and swiftly runs away.
Change gave him ease, ease, strength, in strength hope lives,
Hope joyes the Heart, or light Hecle joy still gives.
His Feet like to a Feather'd Arrow flies,
Or like a winged Bird, that mounts the Skies.
The Dogs like Ships, that saile with Wind, and Tide,
Which cut the Aire, and waters deep divide.
Or like a greedy [...], seeks for Gaine,
Will venture Life, so trafficks on the Maine.
The Hunters, like to Boies, no dangers shun,
To see a Sight, will venture Life, and Limb.
Which sad become, when Mischiefe takes not place,
Is out of Countenance, as with disgrace.
But when they see a Ruine, and a fall,
Return with Joy, as Conquerors they were all.
Thus their severall Passions their waies did meet,
As Dogs desire to catch did make them Fleet.
The Stag with feare did run, his life to save,
Whilst Men for love of [...] dig his Grave.
[Page 116] The angry Dust in every Face up flies,
As with Revenge, seeks to put out their Eies.
Yet they so fast went on with such loud Cries,
The Stag no hope had left, nor help espies:
His Heart so heavie grew, with Griefe, and Care,
That his small Feet his Body could not beare.
Yet loth to dye, or yeild to Foes was he,
But to the last would strive for Victory.
Twas not for want of Courage he did run,
But that an Army against One did come.
Had he the Valour of bold Caear stout,
Must yeild himselfe to them, or dye no doubt.
Turning his Head, as if he dar'd their Spight,
Prepar'd himselfe against them all to fight.
Single he was, his Hornes were all his helpes,
To guard him from a Multitude of Whelpes.
Besides, a company of Men were there,
If Dogs should faile, to strike him every where.
But to the last his [...] hee'll try out:
Then Men, and Dogs do circle him about.
Some bite, some bark, all ply him at the Bay,
Where with his Hornes he tosses some away.
But Fate his thread had spun, so downe did fall,
Shedding some Teares at his owne Funerall.

Of an Island.

THere was an Island rich by Natures grace,
In all the World it was the sweetest place:
Surrounded with the Seas, whose Waves don't misse
To do her Homage, and her Feet do kisse.
Where every Wave by turne do bow downe low,
And proud to touch her, as they overflow.
Armies of Waves in Troopes high Tides bring on,
Whose watry Armes do glister like the Sun:
And on their backs burthens of Ships do beare,
And in her Havens places them with care;
Not Mercenary, They no pay will have,
Yet as her Guard they watch to keep her safe;
And in a Ring they circle her about,
Strong as a Wall, to keep her Foes still out.
[Page 177] So Windes do serve, and on the Cloudes do ride,
Blowing their Trumpets loud on every side;
And serve as Scouts, do search in every Lane,
And gallop in the Forrest, Feilds, and Plaine.
And while shee please the Gods, in safety lives,
They to delight her, all fine Pleasures gives.
For all this [...] is fertile, rich, and faire.
Both Woods, and Hills, and Dales, in Propsects are.
Birds pleasure take, and with delight do sing,
In Praises of this Isle the Woods do ring;
Trees thrive with joy, this Isle their Roots do feed,
Grow tall with Pride, their Tops they over-spread;
Dance with the Windes, when they do sing, and blow,
Play like a wanton Kid, or the swist Roe.
Their severall Branches severall Birds do beare,
Which hop, and Skip, and alwaies merry are.
Their Leaves do wave, and rushing make a noise:
Thus many waies do strive [...] expresse their Joyes.
And Flowers there look fresh, and gay with Mirth,
Whilst they are danc'd upon the lap of Earth:
Their Mother the Island, they her Children sweet,
Born from her Loines, got by Apollo great.
Who takes great care to dresse, and prune them oft,
And with cleare Dew he washes their Leaves soft.
When he hath done, he wipes those drops away,
With Webbs
Sun Beames:
of heat, which he weaves every day.
Paints
There would be no [...], if no Light.
them with severall Colours intermixt,
[...] them with Shadowes every leafe betwixt.
Their Heads he dresses, spreads their hairy leaves,
And round their Crownes his golden Beames he wreaths.
For he this Isle esteemes above the rest;
Of all his Wives, we find he loves her best.
Presents her daily with [...] fine new Gift,
Twelve Ells of Light, to make her Smocks *
These Smocks are the daies.
for shift.
Which every time he comes, he puts on cleane,
And changes oft, that shee may lovely seem.
And when he goeth from her, the World to see,
He leaves his Sister
The Moon.
for her company:
Cynthia she is, though pale, yet [...],
Which makes her alwaies in Dark Cloudes appeare.
[Page 118] Besides, he leaves his Stars to wait, for feare
His Isle too sad should be, when hee's not there.
And from his bounty cloaths them all with Light,
Which makes them twinckle in a Frosty Night.
He never brings hot Reantes, to do her harm,
Nor lets her take a Cold, but laps her warm;
With Mantles rich of equall [...] doth spread,
And covers her with Colour Crimson red.
He gives another o're her head to lye,
The Colour is a pure bright [...] Skie:
And with soft Aire doth line them all within,
As Furrs in Winter, in Summer Satten thin.
With silver Clouds he fringes them about,
Where spangled Meteors glistring hang without.
Thus gives her Change, least she should weary grow,
Or think them Old, and so away them throw.
Nature adornes this Island all throughout,
With Land-skips, Prospects, and Rills that run about.
There Hills o're top the Dales, which levell be,
Covered with Cattell feeding Eagerly.
Where Grasse growes up even to the Belly high,
Where Beasts, that chew their Cud, in Pleasure lye.
Whisking their Tailes about, the Flies to beat,
Orelse to coole them from the Soultry heat.
Nature, willing to th' Gods her Love to shew,
Sent plenty in, like Niles great overflow;
Gave temperate Seasons, and equall Lights,
The Sun-shine daies, and Dewy Moon-shine Nights.
And in this pleasant Island, Peace did dwell,
No noise of War, or sad Tale could it tell.

The Ruine of the Island.

THis Island liv'd in Peace full many a day,
So long as She unto the Gods did pray.
But She grew proud with Plenty, and with Ease,
Ador'd her selfe, so did the Gods displease.
She flung their Altars downe, her owne set up,
And She alone would have divine Worship.
The Gods grew angry, and commanded Fate,
To alter, and to ruine quite the State.
[Page 119] For they had chang'd their Mind of late; they said,
And did repent [...] [...] [...] made:
Fates wondred much, to heare what said the Gods,
That Mortall Men, and [...] were at great odds;
And found them apt to Change, they thought it shew'd,
As if poore Man the Gods had not foreknow'd.
For why, said they, if Men do evill grow,
The Gods foreseeing all, Men's Hearts do know,
Long, long, before they made, or were create;
If so, what need they Change, or alter Fate?
Twas in their power to make them good, or ill:
If so, Men cannot do just what they will.
Then why do Gods complaine against them so,
Since Men are made by them such waies to go?
If Evil power hath Gods to oppose,
To equall Deities it plainly shewes;
Having no Power to keep Obedience, long,
If Disobedient Power be as strong:
As being ignorant how Men will prove,
Nor know how strong, or long will last their Love.
But may not Gods decree on this Line run,
To love Obedience whensoe're it come?
So from the first Variation creates,
And for that work made Destiny, and Fates.
Then tis the Mind of Men, that's apt to range,
And not the Mindes of Gods, subject to Change.
Then did the Fates unto the Planets go,
And told them they Malignity must throw
Into this Island, for the Gods will take
Even high Revenge, since she their Lawes forsake.
With that the Planets drew up with a Scrue
The Vapour bad from all the Earth, then view
What Place, to squeese that Poyson, in which all
The Venome was, that's got from the Worlds Ball.
Which through Mens Veines, like molten Lead it came,
And like to Oile, did all their Spirits flame.
Where Malice boyl'd with rancor, Spleen, and Spight,
In War, and Fraud, Injustice took delight.
Studying which way might one another rob,
In open sight do Ravish, boldly Stab.
[Page 120] To Parents Children unnat'rally grow,
And former Friend-ship now's turn'd cruell Foe.
For Innocency no Protection had,
Religious Men were thought to be stark mad.
In Witches Wizzards did they put their Trust,
Extortions, Bribes, were thought to be most just.
Like Titans Race, all in a Tunsult rose,
Blasphemous words against high Heaven throwes.
Gods in a Rage unbind the Windes and blow
In forraine Nations, formerly their Foe.
Where they did plant themselves, no Brittons live,
For why the Gods their Lives, and Land them give.
Compassion wept, and Virtue wrung her hands,
To see that Right was banish'd from their Lands.
Thus Windes, and Seas, the Planets, Fates, and all,
Conspired to work her Ruine, and her fall.
But those that keep the Lawes of God on high,
Shall live in Peace, in Craves shall quiet lye.
And ever after like the Gods shall be,
Injoy all Pleasure, know no Misery.

TO POETS.

THERE is no Spirit firghts me so much, as Poets Satyrs, and their Faiery Wits: which are so subtle, aiery, and nimble, as they passe through every small Crevise, and Cranie of Errours, and Mistakes, and dance upon every Line, and round every Fancy; which when they find to be dull, and sleepy, they pinch them black, and blew, with Robbin-hoods Jests. But I hope you will [...] me: for the Harth is swept cleane, and a Bason of water with a cleane Towell set by and the Ashes rake'd up; wherefore let my Book sleep quietly, and the Watch-light burning clearly, and not blew, and Blink­ingly, nor the Pots, and Pans be disturbed; but let it be still from your noise, that the Effemenate Cat may not Mew, nor the Mas­culine Curs bark, nor houle forth Railings to disturbe my harm­lesse Bookes rest. But if you will judge my Book severely, I doubt I shall be cast to the Bar of Folly, there forc'd to hold up my Hand of Indiscretion, and confesse Ignorance to my Enemies dislike. For I have no Eloquent Orator to plead for me, as to perswade a Severe Judge, nor Flattery to bribe a Corrupt One; which makes me afraid, I shall loose my Suit of Praise. Yet I have Truth to speak in my behalse for some favour; which saith sirst, that Wo­men writing seldome, makes it seem strange, and what is unusuall, seemes Fantasticall, and what is Fantasticall, seemes odd, and what seemes odd, Ridiculous: But as Truth tells you, all is not Gold that glisters; so she tells you, all is not Poore, that hath not Golden Cloaths on, nor mad, which is out of Fashion; and if I be out of the Fashion, because Women do not generally write; yet, before you laugh at me, let your Reason view strictly, whether the Fashion be not usefull, gracefull, easie, comely, and modest: And if it be any of these, spare your Smiles of Scorne, for those that are wanton, carelesse, rude, or unbecoming: For though her Garments are plaine, and unusuall, yet they are cleane, and decent. Next, Truth tells you, that Women have seldome, or [Page 122] never, (or at least in these latter Ages) written a Book of Poetry, unlesse it were in their Dressings, which can be no longer read then Beauty lasts. Wherefore it hath seemed hitherto, as if Na­ture had compounded Mens Braines with more of the Sharp A­tomes, which make the hot, and dry Element, and Womens with more of the round Atomes, which Figure makes the cold, and most Element: And though Water is a usesull Element, yet Fire is the Nobler, being of an Aspiring quality. But it is rather a Dishonour, not a Fault in Nature, for her Inferiour Workes to move towards Perfection; though the best of her Workes can never be so Perfect as her selfe; yet she is pleased when they imitate her; and to imitate her, I hope you will be pleased, I Imitate you. Tis true, my Verses came not out of Jupiters Head, therefore they cannot prove a Pallas: yet they are like Chast Penelope's Work, for I wrote them in my Husbands absence, to delude Melancholy Thoughts, and avoid Idle Time. The last thing Truth tells you, is, my Verses were gathered too soon: wherefore they cannot be of a Mature growth; for the Sun of time was onely at that height, as to draw them forth, but not heat enough to ripen them; which makes me feare they will tast harsh, and unpleasant; but if they were strew'd with some Sugar of Praises, and Bake'd in the Oven of Applause, they may passe at a generall Feast, though they do not relish with nice, and de­licate Palates; yet the Vulgar may digest them: sor they care not what the Meat is, if the Crust bee good, or indeed thick: for they judge according to the quantity, not the quality, or ra­rity: but they are oft perswaded by the senses of others, [...] then their owne. Wherefore if it be not worthy of Commendations, pray be silent, and cast not out severe Censures; And I shall give Thankes for what is Eaten.

I desire all those which read this part of my Book, to consider, that it is thick of Fancies, and therefore requires the more Study: But if they understand not, I desire they would do as those, which have a troubled Conscience, and cannot resolve themselves of some Doubts; wherefore they are required by the Church to go to a Minister thereof, to have them explain'd, and not to Interpret according to their owne Imaginations: So I intreat those that can­not find out the Conceit of my Fancies, to ask a Poet where the Conciet lies, before they Censure; and not to accuse my Book for Non-sense, condemning it with a false Construction, through [Page 123] an Ignorant zeale of Malice; nor do not mistake, nor ask a Rhi­mer instead of a Poet, least I be condemned as a Traytor to Sense, through the blindnesse of the Judges Understanding. But if the Judge be learned in the Lawes of Poetry, and honesty from Bribes of Envie; I shall not need to feare, but that the Truth will be found out, and its Innocence will be free'd at the Bar of Cen­sure, and be sent home with the Acquittance of Applause. Yet pray do not think I am so Presumptuous, to compare my selfe in this Comparison to the Church: but I onely here compare Truth to the Church, and Truth may be compared from the lowest Sub­ject, or Object to the Highest.

I must intreat my Noble Reader, to read this part of my Book very slow, and to observe very strictly every word they read; be­cause in most of these Poems, every word is a Fancy. Wheresore if they loose, by not marking, or ship by too hasty reading, they will intangle the Sense of the whole Copy.

Of Poets, and their Theft.

AS Birds, to hatch their Young do sit in Spring,
Some Ages severall Broods of Poets bring;
Which to the World in Verse do sweetly sing.
Their Notes great Nature set, not Art so taught:
So Fancies, in the Braine that Nature wrought,
Are best; what lmitation makes, are naught.
For though they sing as well, as well may bee,
And make their Notes of what they learne, agree;
Yet he that teaches still, hath Mastery:
And ought to have the Crowne of Praise, and Fame,
In the long Role of Time to write his Name:
And those that steale it out to blame.
There's None should Places have in Fames high Court,
But those that first do win Inventions Fort:
Not Messeugers, that onely make Report.
To Messengers Rewards of Thanks are due,
For their great Paines, telling their Message true.
But not the Honour to Invention new.
Many there are, that Sutes will make to weare,
Of severall Patches stole, both here, and there;
That to the World they Gallants may appeare.
And the Poore Vulgar, which but little know,
Do Reverence all, that makes a Glistring Shew;
Examines not, the same how they came to.
Then do they call their Friends, and all their Kin,
They Factions make, the Ignorant to bring:
And with their help, into Fames Court get in.
Some take a Line, or two of Horace Wit,
And here, and there they will a Fancy pick.
And so of Homer, Virgill, Ovid sweet:
Makes all those Poets in their Book to meet:
Yet makes them not appeare in their right shapes,
But like to Ghosts do wander in [...] Shades.
But those that do so, are but Poet-Juglers,
And like to Conjurers, are Spirit-troublers.
By Sorcery the Ignorant delude,
Shewing false Glasses to the Multitude.
And with a small, and undiscerning Haire,
They pull Truth out the place wherein she were.
But by the Poets Lawes they should be hang'd,
And in the Hell of Condemnation damn'd.
MOst of our Moderne Writers now a daies,
Consider not the Fancy, but the Phrase.
As if sine words were Wit; or, One should say,
A Woman's handsome, if her Cloaths be gay.
Regarding not what Beauty's in the Face,
Nor what Proportion doth the Body grace.
As when her shooes be high, to say shee's tall,
And when Shee is strait-lac'd, to say shee's small.
When Painted, or her Haire is curl'd with Art,
Though of it selfe tis Plaine, and Skin is swart.
We cannot say, from her a Thanks is due
To Nature, nor those Arts in her we view.
Unlesse shee them invented, and so taught
The World to set forth that which is stark naught.
[Page 125] But Fancy is the Eye, gives Life to all;
Words, the Complexion, as a whited Wall.
Fancy is the Form, Flesh, Blood, Bone, Skin;
Words are but Shadowes, have no Substance in.
But Number is the Motion, gives the Grace,
And is the Countenance to a well-form'd Face.

FANCIES.
The severall Keyes of Nature, which unlock her severall Cabinets.

ABunch of Keyes which hung by Natures Side,
Nature to unlock these her
The five Sen­ses are Na­tures Boxes, Cabinets: The Braine her chiefe Cabi­net.
Boxes try'd.
The sirst was Wit, that Key unlockt the Ear,
Opened the Brain, to see what things were there.
The next was Beauties Key, unlockt the Eyes,
Opened the Heart, to see what therein lyes.
The third was Appetite, that Key was quick,
Opens the Stomack, meat to put in it.
The Key of [...] opens the Braine, though hard,
For of a Stink the Nose is much afeard.
The Key of Paine unlocked Touch, but slow,
Nature is loath Diseases for to shew.
Natures Cabinet.
IN Natures Cabinet, the Braine, you'l find
Many a fine Knack, which doth delight the Mind.
Severall Colour'd Ribbons of Fancies new,
which are Love Verses.
To tye in Hats, or Haire of Lovers true.
Masques of Imaginations onely shew
The Eyes of Knowledge, t'other part none know.
Fans of Opinion, which wave the Wind,
According as the Heat is in the Mind.
Gloves of Remembrance, which draw off, and on,
Thoughts in the Braine sometimes are there, then gon.
Veiles of Forgetsulnesse the Thoughts do hide,
The Scarse turn'd up, then is their Face espied.
Pendants of Vnderstanding heavie were,
But Nature hangs them not in every Eare.
Black Patches of Ignorance, to stick on
The Face of Fooles: this Cabinet is shewn.

Natures Dresse.

THE Sun crownes Natures Head, Beames splendent are,
And in her Haire, as Jewels, hang each Star.
Her Garments made of pure Bright watchet skie,
The Zodiack round her Wast those Garments tye.
The Polar Circles are Bracelets for each Wrist,
The Planets round about her Neck do twist.
The Gold, and Silver Mines, Shooes for her Feet,
And for her Garters, are soft Flowers sweet.
Her Stockings are of Grasse, that's fresh, and green,
And Rainebow Ribbons many Colours in.
The Powder for her Haire is Milk-white Snow,
And when she combes her Locks, the Windes do blow.
Light a thin Veile doth hang upon her Face,
Through which her Creatures see in every place.

Natures Cook.

DEath is the Cook of Nature; and we find
Meat drest severall waies to please her Mind.
Some Meates shee rosts with Feavers, burning hot,
And some shee boiles with Dropsies in a Pot.
Some for Gelly consuming by degrees,
And some with Vlcers, Gravie out to squeese.
Some Flesh as Sage she stuffs with Gouts, and Paines,
Others for tender Meat hangs up in Chaines.
Some in the Sea she pickles up to keep,
Others, as Brawne is sous'd, those in Wine steep.
Some with the Pox, chops Flesh, and Bones so small,
Of which She makes a French Fricasse withall.
Some on Gridirons of Calentures is broyl'd
And some is trodden on, and so quite spoyl'd.
But those are bak'd, when smother'd they do dye,
By Hectick Feavers some Meat She doth fry.
In Sweat sometimes she stues with savoury smell,
A Hodge-Podge of Diseases tastcth well.
Braines dreit with Apoplexy to Natures wish,
Or swimmes with Sauce of Megrimes in a Dish.
[Page 128] And Tongues she dries with Smoak from Stomacks ill,
Which as the second Course she sends up still.
Then Death cuts Throats, for Blood-puddings to make,
And puts them in the Guts, which Collicks rack.
Some hunted are by Death, for Deere that's red,
Or Stal-fed Oxen, knocked on the Head.
Some for Bacon by Death are Sing'd, or scal'd,
Then powdered up with Flegme, and Rhume that's salt.

Natures Oven.

THE Braine is like an Oven, hot, and dry,
Which bakes all sorts of Fancies, low, and high.
The Thoughts are Wood, which Motion sets on [...],
The Tongue a Peele, which drawes forth the Desire.
But thinking much, the Braine too hot will grow,
And burnes it up; if Cold, the Thoughts are Dough.

A Posset for Natures Breakfast.

LIfe scummes the Cream of Beauty with Times Spoon,
And dra wes the Claret Wine of Blushes soon.
There boiles it in a Skillet cleane of Youth,
Then thicks it well with crumbl'd Bread of Truth.
And sets it on the Fire of Life, which growes
The clearer, if the Bellowes of Health blowes.
Then takes the Eggs of Faire, and Bashfull Eyes,
Aud puts them in a Countenance that's wise,
And cuts a Lemmon in of sharpest Wit,
By Discretions Knife, as he thinkes sit.
A handfull of Chast Thoughts double refin'd,
Six Spoonfuls of a Noble, and Gentle Mind.
A Graine of Mirth, to give't a little Tast,
Then takes it off, for feare the Substance wast.
And puts it in a Bason of Rich Wealth,
And in this Meat doth Nature please her selfe.

Mear drest for Natures Dinner; an Ollio for Nature.

LIfe takes a young, and [...] Lovers heart
That hunted was, and wound by Cupids Dart.
Then sets it on the Fire of Love, and blowes
That Fire with Sighes, by which the Flame high growes.
And boiles it with the water of fresh Teares,
Flings in a bunch of Hope, Desires, and Feares.
More Sprigs of Passion throwes into the Pot,
Then takes it up, when it is seething hot;
And puts it in a cleane Dish of Delight,
That scoured was from Envie, and from Spight.
Then doth she presse, and squeese in Juice of Youth,
And cast therein some Sugar of sweet Truth.
Sharp [...] gives a quickning tast,
And Temperance doth cause it long to last.
Then doth she garnish it with Smiles, and Dress,
And serves it up a Faire, and Beautious Mess.
But Nature's apt to surfet of this Meat,
Which makes her seldome of the same to eat.

A Bisk for Natures Table.

AFore-head high, broad, smooth, and very sleek,
A large great Eye, black, and very quick.
A Brow that's Arch'd, or like a Bow that's bent,
A Rosie Cheek, and in the midst a dent.
Two Cherry Lips, whereon the Dew lies wet,
A Nose between the Eyes that's even set.
A Chin that's neither short, nor very long,
A sharp, and quick, and ready, pleasing Tongue.
A Breath of Musk, and Amber in do strew,
Two soft round Breasts, that are as white as Snow.
A body plump, white, of an even growth,
Quick, active lives, that's void of Sloth:
A sound firm Heart, a Liver good,
A Speech that's plaine, and easie understood.
[Page 130] A Hand that's fat, smooth, and very white,
The inside moist, and red, like Rubies bright.
A Brawny Arme, a [...] that's round, and small,
And Fingers long, and Joynts not big withall.
A Stomack strong, and easie to digest,
A Swan-like Neck, and an out-bearing Chest:
These mixing all with Pleasure, and Delight,
And strew upon them Eyes that's quick of Sight;
Putting them in a Dish of Admiration,
And serves them up with Praises of a Nation.

A Hodge-Podge for Natures Table.

A wanton Eye, that seekes for to allure;
Dissembling Countenance, that lookes demure.
A griping hand that holds what's none of his,
A jealous Mind, which thinks all is amisse.
A Purple face, where Mattery Pimples stood,
A Slandering Tongue that still dispraises Good.
A frowning Brow, with Rage, and Anger bent:
A Good that comes out from an ill Intent.
Then took he Promises that ne're were perform'd,
And [...] Gifts, that slighted were, and scorn'd.
Affected words that signifi'd noe thing,
Feigning Laughter, but no Mirth therein.
Thoughts idle, unusefull, and very vaine,
Which are created from a Lovers Braine.
Antick Postures, where no Coherence is,
Well meaning Mind, yet al waies doth amisse.
A Voice that's hoarse, where Notes cannot agree,
And squintings Eyes, that no true Shape can see.
Wrinckles, that Time hath set in every Face,
Vaine-glory brave, that fall in full Disgrace.
A Selfe-conceited Pride without a Cause,
A painefull desperate Art without Applause.
Verses no Sense, nor Fancy have, but Rhime.
Ambitious fall, where highest Hopes do climbe.
All in the Pot of dislike boileth fast,
Then stirs it with a Ladle of Distast.
[Page 131] The Fat of Gluttons in the Pot did flow,
And Roots of severall Vices in did throw;
And severall Hearbs, as aged Time that's dry,
Heart-burning Parsley, Buriall Rosemary.
Then powers it out into Repentant Dishes,
And sends it up by Shadowes of vaine Wishes.

A Heart drest.

LIfe takes a Heart, and Passions puts therein,
And covers it with a dissembling Skin.
Then take some Anger, that like Pepper bite,
And Vinegar that's sharp, and made of Spight.
Hot Ginger of Revenge, grated in Flunge,
To which she addes a lying cloven Tongue.
A lazy flake of Mace, that lies downe flat,
Some Salt of Slander put also to that.
Then serves it up with Sauce of Jealousie,
In Dishes of Carefull Industry.

Head, and Braines.

ABraine that's wash'd with Reasons cleare,
From Grosse Opinions, Dulnesse lying there;
And Judgment hard, and sound is grated in,
Whereto is squeesed Wit, and Fancies thin.
A Bunch of Sent, Sounds, Colours, tied up fast,
With Threads of Motion, and strong Nerves to last.
In Memory then stew them with long Time,
So take them up, and put in Spirits of Wine.
Then poure it forth into a Dish of Touch,
The Meat is good, although it is not much.

A Tart.

LIfe took some Floure made of Complexions white,
Churnd Butter, by Nourishment; as cleane as might:
And kneads it well, then on a Board it laies,
And roules it oft, and so a Pye did raise.
Then did she take some Cherry Lips that's red,
And Sloe-black Eyes from a Faire Virgins Head.
[Page 132] And Strawbery Teats from high Banks of white Breast,
And Juice from Raspes Fingers ends did presse.
These put into a Pye, which soone did bake,
Within a Heart, which she strait hot did make;
Then drew it out with Reasons Peele, and sends
It up to Nature, she it much commends.

A Dissert.

SWeet Marmalade of Kisses new gathered,
Preserv'd Children that are not Fathered:
Sugar of Beauty which melts away soon,
Marchpane of Youth, and Childish Macaroon.
Sugar Plum-words most sweet on the Lips,
And wafer Promises, which wast into Chips.
Bisket of Love, which crumbles all away,
Gelly of Feare, that quaking, quivering lay.
Then came in a fresh Green-sicknesse Cheese,
And tempting Apples, like those eat by Eve;
With Creame of Honour, thick, and good,
Firm Nuts of Friend-ship by it stood.
Grapes of delight, dull Spirits to revive,
Whose Juice, tis said, doth Nature keep alive.
Then Nature rose, when eat, and drank her fill,
To rest her selfe in Ease, she's pleas'd with still.

Natures Officers.

ETernity, as Vsher, goeth before,
Destiny, as Porter, keepes the Doore
Of the great World, who lets Life out, and in;
The Fates, her Maides, this Thread of Life do spin.
Mutability orders with great Care,
Motion, her Foot-boy, runneth every where.
Time, as her Page, doth carry up her Traine,
But in his Service little doth he gaine.
The daies are the Surveyors, for to view,
All Natures workes, which are both old, and new.
The Seasons foure their Circuites by turnes take,
Judges to order, and distribute, make.
[Page 133] The Months their Pen-clerks, write downe every thing,
Make Deeds of Gifts, and Bonds of all that spring.
Lifes Office is to pay, and give out all
To Death, which is Receiver, when he call.

Natures House.

THE Ground, whereon this House was built upon,
Was Honesty, that hates to do a Wrong.
Foundations deep were laid, and very sure,
By Love, which to all times will firm indure.
The Walls, strong Friend-ship, Hearts for Brick, lay thick,
And Conflancy, as Morter, made them stick.
Free-stone of Obligations Pillars raise,
To beare high Roofed thanks, seil'd with praise.
Windowes of Knowledge let in Light of Truth,
Curtaines of Joy, wh'are drawne by pleasant Youth.
Chimnies with Touch-stone of Affection made,
Where Beauty, the Fuell of Love, is laid.
The Harth is innocent Marble white,
Whereon the Fire of Love burnes cleare, and bright:
The Doores are Cares, Misfortunes out to shut,
That cold Poverty might not through them get.
Besides, these Roomes of severall Passions built,
Some on the right hand, others on the left.
This House, the out-side's tyl'd with Noble Deeds,
And high Ambition covers it with Leades.
Turrets of Fame are built on every side,
And in this Palace Nature takes great pride.
This House is furnished best of Natures Courts,
For hung it is with Virtues of all sorts.
As Morall Virtues, and with those of Art,
The last from Acts, the first is from the Heart.

Comparing the head to a Barrell of VVine.

THE Head is like a Barrell, which will break,
Natures Cel­lar.
If Liquors be too strong; but if they're weake,
They will the riper grow by lying long:
Close kept from Vent, the Spirits grow more strong.
[Page 134] So Wit, which Nature in a Braine tuns up,
Never leaves Working, if it close be shut:
Will through Discretions burst, and run about,
Unlesse a Pen, and Inke do tap it out.
But if the Wit be small, then let it lye,
If Broacht to soon, the Spirits quickly dye.

Comparing of VVits to VVines.

MAlaga Wits, when broach'd, which Pens do peirce,
[...] wine.
If strong, run strait into Heroick Verse.
Sharp Claret Satyrs searching run about
The Veines of Vice, before it passes out:
And makes the Blood of Virtue fresh to spring
In Noble Minds, Faire Truth's Complexions bring.
But all high Fancy is in Brandy Wits,
Strong-waters.
A Fiery heat in Vnderstanding sits.

Natures VVardrope.

IN Natures Wardrope there hangs up great store
Of severall Garments, some are rich, some poore.
Some made on Beauties Stuff, with Smiles are lac'd,
With lovely Favour is the out-side fac'd.
Some fresh, and new, by Sicknesses are rent,
Not having care the same for to prevent.
Physick, and good Diet sowes close againe,
That none could see where those slits did remaine.
Some worne so bare with Age, that none could see
What Stuff it had been, or what it might bee.
Others were so ill-shap'd, and Stuff so course,
That none would weare, least Nature did inforce.
And severall Mantles, Nature made, were there,
To keep her Creatures warm from the Cold Aire.
As Sables, Martin, and the Fox that's black,
The powder'd Ermines, and the feirce wild Cat.
Most of her Creatures She hath clad in Furre,
Which needs no Fire, if they do but stir.
And some in [...] She clads, as well as Haire,
And some in Scales, others do Feathers weare.
[Page 135] But Man She made his Skin so smooth, and faire,
It needs no Feathers, Scales, Wool, nor Haire.
The out-side of all things Nature keeps here,
Severall Creatures that She makes to weare.
Death pulls them off, and Life doth put them on,
Nature takes care that none puts on the wrong.
Nature hath
Flesh, and Fish.
but two sorts of Stuffs, whereon
All Garments which are made, that Life puts on.
But yet such severall Sorts there is to weare,
That seldome any two alike appeare.
Bnt Nature severall Trimmings for those Garments makes,
And severall Colours for each Trimming takes.

Soule, and Body.

GReat Nature She doth cloath the Soule within,
A Fleshly Garment which the Fates do spin.
And when these Garments are growne old, and bare,
With Sicknesse torne, Death takes them off with care.
And folds them up in Peace, and quiet Rest,
So laies them safe within an Earthly Chest.
Then scoures them, and makes them sweet, and cleane,
Fit for the Soule to weare those Cloaths agen.

Natures Grange.

GRounds of losse was plow'd with Sorrowes deep,
Wherein was sowed Cares, a Fertile Seed.
Carts of Industry Horses of Hopes drew,
Laden with Expectations in Barnes of Braines they threw.
Cowes of Content, which gave the Milk of Ease,
Curds prest with Love, which made a Friend-ship Cheese.
Cream of Delight was put in Pleasures Churn,
Wherein short time the Butter of Joyes come.
Sweet Whey of Teares from laughing Eyes did run:
Thus Houswifery Nature her selfe hath done.
Eggs of Revenge were laid by some designe,
Chickens of Mischiefe, hatch'd with Words divine:
Nourishment the Poultry fat doth cram,
And so She doth all Creatures else, and Man.
[Page 136] And Nature makes the Fates to sit and spin,
And Destiny laies out, and brings Flax in.
For Nature in this Housewifry doth take
Great pleasure, the Cloath of Life to make:
And every Garment she her selfe cutsout,
Disposing to her Creatures all about.
Where some do weare them long, all thread-bare torne,
And some do cast them off before halfe worne.
Thus Nature busily doth her selfe imploy
On every Creature small, till they do dye.
When any dies, that work is done,
And then a new work is begun.

Comparing the Tongue to a VVheele.

THE Tongue's a Wheele, to spin words from the Mind,
Natures wheele.
A Thread of Sense, doth Vnderstanding twine.
The Lips a Loom, to weave those words of Sense,
Into a fine Discourse each Eare presents.
This Cloath [...] Chest of Memory's laid up,
Untill for Judgments Shirts it out be cut.

Similizing the Braine to a Garden.

THE Braine a Garden seemes, full of Delight,
Natures Gar­den.
Whereon the Sun of Knowledge shineth bright,
Where Fancy flowes, and runs in Bubbling Streames,
Where Flowers growes upon the Banks of Dreames.
Whereon the Dew of sleepy Eyes doth fall,
Bathing each Leafe, and every Flower small.
There various Thoughts as severall Flowers grow,
Some Milk-white Innocence, as Lillies, shew.
Fancies, as painted Tulips colours sixt,
By Natures Pencils they are iatermixt.
Some as sweet Roses, which are newly blowne,
Others as tender Buds, not full out growne.
Some, as small Violets, yet much sweetnesse bring:
Thus many Fancies from the Braine still spring.
Their Wit, as Butter-flies, hot love do make,
On every Flower fine their pleasure take.
[Page 137] Dancing about each Leafe in pleasant sort,
Passing their time away in Amorous sport.
Like Cupids young, their painted Wings display,
And with Apolloe's golden Beames they play.
Industry, as Bees suck out the sweet,
Wax of Invention gather with their Feet.
Then on their Wings of Fame flye to their Hive,
From Winter of sad Death keeps them alive.
There Birds of Poetry sweet Notes still sing,
Which through the World, as through the Aire ring.
Where on the Branches of Delight do sit,
Pruning their Wings, which are with Study wet.
Then to the Cedars of High Honour flye,
Yet rest not there, but mount up to the Skie.

Similizing the Heart to a Harp, the Head to an Organ, the Tongue to a Lute, to make a Consort of Musick.

THE Heart like to a Harp compare I may,
Natures Mu­sicall Instru­ments.
The Passions, strings on which the Mind doth play;
A Harmony, when they just time do keep,
With Notes of Peace they bring the Soule to sleep.
The Head, unto an Organ I compare,
The [...], as severall Pipes make Musick there.
Imagination's Bag doth draw, then blow
Windy Opinions, by which the Thoughts go.
The small Virgin all Jacks which skip about,
Are severall Francies that run in, and out.
The Tongue, a Lute, the Breath, are Strings strung strong,
The Teeth are Pegs, Words, Fingers play thereon.
These moving all, a sweet soft Musick make,
Wise Sentences, as grounds of Musick take.
Witty light Aires are pleasant to the Eare,
Straines of Description all Delights to heare.
In Quavers of Similizing lies great Art,
Flourishes of Eloquence a sweet part.
Stops of Reproofe, wherein there must be skill,
Flattering Division delights the Mind still.
[Page 138] All Thoughts, as severall [...] these just do play,
And thus the Mind doth passe its time away.

Similizing the VVindes to Musick.

NO better Musick then the Windes can make,
Natures Mu­sick.
If all their severall Notes right places take:
The Full, the Halfe, the Quarter-Note can set,
The Base, the Tenor, and the Treble sit.
The strong big Base the Northern wind doth sing,
The East is the sweet, soft small Treble String.
The South, and West as Tenors both applied,
By East, by West, by South, and North divide.
All that this Musick meets, it moves to dance,
If Bodies yeilding be with a Compliance.
The Clouds do dance in circle, hand in hand,
Wherein the mids the Worldly Ball doth stand.
The Seas do dance with Ships upon their back,
Where Capering high, they many times do Wrack.
As Men, which venture on the Ropes to dance,
Oft tumble downe, if they too high Advance.
But Dust, like Country-clownes, no measure keep,
But rudely run together on a Heap.
Trees grave, and civilly, first bow their Head
Towards the Earth, then every Leafe will spred;
And every Twig each other will salute,
Embracing oft, and kisse each others Root.
And so each other Plant, and Flower gay,
Will sweetly dance, when that the Windes do play.
But when they're out of Tune, they Discord make,
Disorder all, not one right place can take.
But when Apollo with his Beames doth play,
He places all againe in the right way.

Of a Picture hung in Natures House.

A Painter was to draw the Firmament,
A round plump Face the same he did present;
His Pencils were the Beames shot from faire Eyes,
Where some of them he in red Blushes dies.
[Page 139] Which, as the Morning, when the Clouds are cleare,
Shewes just so red before the Sun appeare.
An Azure-blew from Veines he drawes a Skie,
And for the Sun, a faire, and great gray Eye.
A Raine-bow like a Brow doth pencill out,
Which circles halfe a weeping Eye about.
From pure pale Complexions takes a White,
Mixt with a Countenance sad, he shades a Night.
Thus Heaven as faire that doth a Face present,
Which is adorn'd with Beauty excellent.

Natures Exercise, and Pastime.

GReat Nature by Variations lives,
For she no constant course to any gives.
We find in Change she swiftly runs about,
To keep her Health, and yet long Life, (no doubt.)
And we are onely Food for Nature Fine,
Our Flesh her Meat, our Blood is her Strong Wine.
The Trees, and Hearbes, Fruits, Roots, and Flowers sweet,
Are but her [...], or such cooling Meat.
The Sea's her Bath to wash, and cleanse her in,
When She is weary, hot, or Journey bin.
The Sun's her Fire, he serves her many waies,
His Lights her Looking-glasse, and Beauties praise.
The Wind her Horses, paces as she please,
The Clouds her Chariot soft to sit in ease.
The Earth's her Ball, by which She trundles round,
In this slow Exercise, much Good hath found.
Night is her Bed her rest therein to take,
Silence watches, least Noise might her awake.
The Spheares her Musick, and the [...] way
Is, where She dances, whilst those Spheares do play.

Natures City.

NAture of Mountaines, Rocks, a City built,
Where many severall Creatures therein dwelt.
The Citizens, are Wormes, which seldome stir,
But sit within their Shops and sell their Ware.
[Page 140] The Moles are Magistrates, who undermine
Each ones Estate, that they their Wealth may sinde.
With their Extortions, they high Houses builds,
To take their Pleasure in, called Mole-hills.
The lazy Dormouse [...] doth keep
Much in their Houses, eat, and drink, and sleep.
Unlesse it be to hunt about for Nuts,
Wherein the sport is still to sill their Guts.
The Peasant Ants īndustrious are to get
Provisions store, hard Labours make them sweet.
They dig, they draw, they plow, and reap with care,
And what they get, they to their Barnes do beare.
But after all their Husbandry, and Paines,
Extortion comes and eates up all their Gaines.
And Merchant Bugs of all sorts they
Traffick on all things, travell every way.
But Vapours they are Artisans with skill,
And make strong Windes to send which way they will.
They make them like a Ball of Wild-fire to run,
Which spreads it selfe about, when that round Forme's undone.
This is the City which great Nature makes,
And in this City Nature pleasure takes.

Natures Market.

IN Natures Market you may all things finde,
Of severall Sorts, and of each severall Kind.
Carts of Sicknesse bring Paines, and Weaknesse in,
And Baskets full of Surfets some do bring.
Fruits of Green-sicknesse there are to be sold,
And Collick Hearbes, which are both hot, and cold.
Lemmon: of sharp Paine, soure Orange sores,
Besides those things, within this Market store.

Of two Hearts.

THere were two Hearts an hundred Acres wide,
Natures Ara­ble, and Mea­dow.
Which hedg'd were round, and ditcht on every side.
The one was very rich, and fertile Ground,
The other Barren, where small good was found.
[Page 141] In Pasture, Grasse of Virtue grew up high,
Where Noble Thoughts did feed continually.
There they grew nimble, strong, and very large,
Fit for the Manage, or in War to charge.
Or like good Kine, that give the Milk of Wit,
And Cream of Wisedome for grave Counsels fit.
And Sheep of Patience, whose Wool is thick, and long,
Upon their Backs, and Sides to keep out Wrong.
Rich Meadowes, where the Hay of Faith doth grow,
Which with the Sithes of Reason downe we mow.
Devotions stackt it up on Hay-cocks high,
For feare in Winter Death the Soule should dye.
On Barren Ground there nothing well will grow,
Which is the cause I no good Seed will sow.
First, soure Rye of crabbed Nature ill,
Which gives the Collick of displeasure still.
And cruell Hempseed, hanging Ropes to make,
And treacherous Linseed, small Birds for to take.
And many such like Seeds this Ground doth beare,
As cole black Branck, and Melancholy Tare.
The other parts so sipid, and so dry,
That neither Furse, nor Ling will grow, but dye.
Rich Arable good Education plow'd,
Deep Furroughs of Discretion well allowed.
And severall sorts of Seeds about did sow,
Where Crops of Actions good in full Eares grow.
First Wheat of Charity, a fruitfull Seed,
It makes the Bread of Life the Poore to feed.
Ripe valiant Barley, which strong Courage make,
Drinking the Spirits no Affront will take.
And Hospitable Peas firm Friend-ship breeds,
And gratefull Oates, restoring still good Deeds.
This Corne is reapt by Fames sharp Sithe, and cut,
And into large great Barnes of Honour put.
Where Truth doth thresh it out from grosse abuse,
Then Honesty doth grind it fit for Vse.

Similizing the Clouds to Horses.

THe Aiery Clouds do swistly run a Race,
Natures Hor­ses.
And one another follow in a Chase.
Like Horses, some are sprightfull, nimble, fleet,
Others sweld big with watry Spavind Feet.
Which lag behind, as tir'd in mid-way,
Or else, like Resty Jades, stock-still will stay.
They of all severall Shapes, and Colours be,
Of severall Tempers, seldome well agree.
As when we see Horses, which highly fed,
Do proudly snort, their Eyes look fiery red:
So Clouds exhaled, fed by the hot Sun,
With Sulphur, and Salt-Peter feirce become,
Flashing out Fire, when together strike,
And with their Flames do th' World with Terrour fright;
Meeting each others they Encounters make,
With strong Assaults they one another break;
Falling upon each others Head, and Back,
Nere parted are, but by a Thunder Clap;
Pouring downe Showres of Raine upon the Earth,
Blow out strong Gusts of Wind with their long Breath.
Then Boreas whips them up, and makes them run,
Till their Spirits are spent, and Breath is gone;
Apollo breakes, and backs them fit to ride,
Bridling with his hot Beames their strengths to guide;
And gives them Heates, untill they foam, and sweat,
Then wipes them dry, least they a Cold should get;
Leades them into the middle Region Stable,
Where are all sorts, dull, quick, weak, and able.
But when they loose do get, having no feares,
They fall together all out by the Eares.

Similizing Birds to a Ship.

BIrds from the Cedars tall, which take a flight,
Natures Ship.
On stretched Wings, to beare their Bodies light.
As Ships do saile over the Ocean wide,
So Birds do saile, and through the Aire glide.
[Page 143] Their Bodies as the Keele, Feet Cable Rope,
The Head the Steer-man is, which doth guide the Poope.
Their Wines, as Sailes, with Wind are stretcht out wide,
But hard it is to flye against the Iide.
For when the Clouds do flow against
In the Aire Clouds move, or wave as wa­ter in the Sea, and Ebb, and Flow accord­ing to dry, or moist weather.
their Breast,
Soon weary grow, and on a Bough
A bough is their Haven.
they rest.
THose Verses still to me do seem the best,
Where Lines run smooth, and Wit eas'ly exprest.
Where Fancies flow, as gentle Waters glide,
Where Flowry banks of Fancies grow each side.
That when they read, Delight may them invite
To read againe, and wish they could so write.
For Verse must be like to a Beauteous Face,
Both in the Eye, and in the Heart take place.
Where Readers must, like Lovers, wish to be
Alwaies in their Deare Mistris Company.

Similizing the Mind.

THE Mind's a Merchant, trafficking about
The Ocean of the [...], to finde Opinions out.
Remembrance is the Ware-house to lay in
Goods, which Imaginations Ships do bring.
Which severall Trades-men of beliefe still buies
They onely gaine in Truth, but loose by Lies.
Thoughts as the Journey-men, and [...] Boies,
Do help to [...] the Wares, and sell the Toies.

A Prospect of a Church in the Mind.

STanding at Imaginations Window high,
I saw a Prospect in the Mind to lye:
Shutting the Ignorant Eye as close may be,
Because the Eye of Knowledge cleare might see:
Drawing a Circle round of fine Conceits,
Contracting Extravagant Speeches strait.
The more I view'd, my Eye the farther went,
Till Vnderstandings Sight was almost spent.
An Isle of Thoughts so long, could see no End,
Fill'd full of Fancies Light
A Church.
to me there seem'd.
[Page 144] Pillars of Judgments thick stood on a row,
And in this Isle Motion walk'd to, and fro.
Feare, Love, Humility kneel'd downe to pray,
Desires beg'd of all that pass'd that way.
Poore Doubts did seem, as if they quaking stood,
Yet were they lapt in Mantles of Hope good.
Generous Faith seem'd bountifull, and free,
She gave to all that askt her Charity.
All sorts of Opinions in Pulpits seem'd to Preach,
False Doctrine for Truth might many teach;
Not that I heard what their Opinions were,
For Prospects i'th Eye do lye, not i'th Eare.

A Land-skip.

STanding upon a Hill of Fancies high,
Viewing about with Curiosities Eye:
Saw severall Land-skips under my Thoughts to lye.
Some Champians of Delights where there did feed,
Pleasures, as Weathers fat, and Ewes to breed.
And Pastures of green Hopes, wherein Cowes went,
Of Probability give Milk of sweet content.
Some Feilds though plow'd with Care, unsow'd did lye,
Wanting the fruitfull Seed, Industry.
In other Feilds full Crops of Joyes there grow'd,
Where some Ripe Joyes Fruition downe had mov'd.
Some blasted with ill Accidents look'd black,
Others blowne downe with Sorrow strong *
As ripe Corne will do with the wind.
lay flat.
Then did I view Inclosures close to lye,
Hearts hedg'd about with Thoughts of secrecy.
Fresh Meadow of green Youth did pleasant seem,
Innocency, as Cowslips, grew therein.
Some ready with Old Age to cut for Hay,
Some Hay cock'd high for Death to take away.
Cleare [...] of Health ran here, and there,
No Mind of Sicknesse in them did appeare.
No Stones, or Gravell stopt their passage free,
No Weeds of Paine, or Slimy Gouts could see.
[Page 145] Woods did present my view on the left side,
Where Trees of high Ambition grew great Pride.
There Shades of Envie were made of dark Spight,
Which did Eclipse the Fame of Honours Light.
[...] stood so close, not many [...] of Praise
Could enter in, Spight stopt up all the waies.
But Leaves of pratling Tongues, which nere lye still,
Sometimes speak Truth, although most Lyes they tell.
Then did I a Garden of Beauty view,
Where Complexions of Roses, and Lillies grew.
And Violets of blew Veines there grow'd,
Upon the Banks of Breasts most perfect shew'd.
Lips of fresh Gilly-flowers grew up high,
Which oft the Sun did kisse as he pass'd by.
Hands of Narcissus, perfect white were set,
The Palmes were curious Tulips, sinely streakt.
And by this Garden a lovely Orchard stood,
Wherein grew Fruit of Pleasure rare, and good.
All colour'd Eyes grew there, as Bullice gray,
And Dampsons black, which do tast best, some say.
Others there were of the pure blewest Grape,
And Peare-plum Faces, of an ovall Shape.
Cheeks of Apricotes made red with Heat,
And Cherry Lips, which most delight to eat.
When I had view'd this Land-skip round about,
I fell from Fancies Hill, and so Wits Sight went out.

Similizing Thoughts.

THoughts as a Pen do write upon the Braine;
The Letters which wise Thoughts do write, are plaine.
Fooles Scribble, Scrabble, and make many a Blot,
Which makes them Non-sense speak, they know not what.
Or Thoughts like Pencils draw still to the Life,
And [...] mixt, as Colours give delight.
Sad melancholy Thoughts are for Shadowes plac'd,
By which the lighter Fancies are more grac'd.
[Page 146] As through a dark, and watry Cloud, more bright,
The Sun breakes forth with his Resplendent Light.
Or like to Nights black Mantle, where each [...]
Doth clearer seem, so lighter Fancies are.
Some like to Raine-bowes various Colours shew,
So round the Braine Fantastick Fancies grow.

Of Thoughts.

IMaginations high like Cedars shew,
Where Leaves of new Invention thick do grow.
Which Thoughts, as gentle Winds, do blow about,
And Contemplation makes those Leaves sprout out.
And Pleasure with Delight, as Birds, do sing,
On every Bough, to think what Fame they bring.

Similizing Navigation.

THE Sea's like Desarts which are wide, and long,
Where Ships as Horses run, whose Breath is strong.
The Stern-man holds the Reines, thereby to guide
The Sturdy Steed on foamy [...] to ride.
The Wind's his Whip, to beat it forward on;
On either side, as Stirrops, serve each Gun.
The Sailes, as Saddles, spread upon the back;
The Ropes as Girts, which in a Storme will crack.
The Pump, the Breech, where [...] come out,
The Needle, as the Eye, guides it about.

Similizing the Sea to Meadowes, and Pastures, the Marriners to Shep­heards, the Mast to a May-pole, Fi­shes to Beasts.

THE Waves like Ridges of Plow'd-land lies high,
Whereat the
Here the Ship is taken for a Horse.
Ship doth stumble, downe doth lye.
But in a Calme, levell as Meadowes seem,
And by its Saltnesse makes it look as green.
When Ships thereon a slow, soft pace they walke,
Then Mariners, as Shepheards sing, and talke.
[Page 147] Some whistle, and some on their Pipes do play,
Thus merrily will passe their time a way.
And every Mast is like a May-pole high,
Round which they dance, though not so merrily,
As Shepheards do, when they their Lasses bring,
Whereon are Garlands tied with Silken string.
But on their Mast, instead of Garlands, hung
Huge Sailes, and Ropes to tye those Garlands on.
Instead of Lasses they do dance with Death,
And for their Musick they have [...] [...].
Instead of Wine, and Wassals, drink salt Teares,
And for their Meat they feed on nought but Feares.
For Flocks of Sheep great [...] of Herrings swim,
As ravenous Wolves the [...] do feed on them.
As sportfull Kids skip over Hillocks green,
So dancing Dolphines on the Waves are seen.
The Porpoyse, like their watchfull Dog espies,
And gives them warning when great Windes will rise.
Instead of Barking, he his Head wil shew
Above the waters, where they rough do flow.
When showring Raines power downe, and Windes do blow:
Then fast Men run for Shelter to a Tree;
So Ships at Anchor lye upon the Sea.

Comparing VVaves, & a Ship to Rebellion.

THus the rough Seas, whom highly Windes inrage,
Assault a Ship, and in feirce War ingage.
Or like rude Multitudes, whom Factions swell,
With ranckled Spleen, which makes them to rebell
Against their Governours, thronging about,
With [...] Noise to throw their power out.
And if their Power gets the upper-hand,
They'l make him sinck, and then in Triumph stand.
Foaming at Mouth, as if great Deeds th' had done,
When they were Multitudes, and he but One.
So Seas do foam, and [...] about a Ship,
And both do strive which shall the Better get.
Or [...], like skil'd Mariners, will guide
The Ship through [...] of Death that do gape wide.
[Page 148] And to a Haven safe will bring [...] in,
Although through many dangers she did swim.

Similizing the Head of Man to the VVorld.

THE Head of [...] is like the World made round,
Where all the Elements in it are found.
The [...], as Earth, from whence all Plants do spring,
And from the Womb it doth all Creatures bring.
The Fore-head, Nose, like Hills, that do rise high,
Which over-top the Dales that levell lye.
The Haire, as Trees, which long in length do grow,
And like its Leaves with [...] waves to, and fro.
Wit, like to severall Creatures, wildly runs
On severall Subjects, and cach other shuns.
The Blood, as Seas, doth through the Veines run round,
The Sweat, as Springs, by which fresh water's found.
As Winds, which from the hollow Caves do blow,
So through the Mouth the winded Breath doth go.
The Eyes, are like the Sun, do give in light,
When Senses are asleep, it is dark Night.
And after Sleep halfe open are the Eyes;
Like dawning Light, when first the Sun doth rise.
VVhen they do drowsie grow, the Sun doth set;
And when tis quite gone downe, the Lids do shut.
VVhen they are dull, and heavie, like thick Mist seem,
Or as a dark black Cloud hides the Suns Beame.
By which there shewes, some Shower of Teares will fall,
VVhere [...], as Flowry Banks grow moist withall.
As twinckling Stars shew in dark Clouds, that's cleare,
So Fancies quick do in the Braine appeare.
Imaginations, like the Orbes move so,
Some very quick, others do move more slow.
And solid Thoughts, as the twelve Signes, are plac'd
About the Zodiack, which is Wisedome vast.
VVhere they as constantly in Wisedome run,
As in the Line Ecliptick doth the Sun.
To the Ecliptick Line the Head compare,
The illustrious Wit, to the Suns bright Spheare.
[Page 149] The Braine, unto the Solid Earth,
From whence all Wisdome hath its Birth.
Just as the Earth, the Heads round Ball,
Is crown'd with Orbes
Five Senses.
Coelestiall.
So Head, and World as one agree;
Nature did make the Head a World to bee.

Similizing the Head of Man to a Hive of Bees.

THE Head of Man just like a Hive is made,
The Braine, like as the Combe's exactly laid.
Where every Thought just like a Bee doth dwell,
Each by it selfe within a parted Cell.
The Soule doth governe all, as doth their King,
Each Thought imploies upon each severall thing.
Just as the Bees swarm in the hottest Weather,
In great round heapes they do hang all together.
As if for Counsell wise they all did meet;
For when they flye away, new Hives they seek.
So Men, when they have any great designe,
Their Thoughts do gather, all in Heapes do [...].
When they resolved are, each one takes Flight,
And strives which sirst shall on Desire light.
Thus Thoughts do meet, and flye about, till they
For their Subsistence can finde out a way.
But Doubting Thoughts, like [...], live on the rest,
Hoping Thoughts, which Honey bring to Nest.
For by their Stings Industry do they get,
That Honey which the Stinglesse [...] do [...].
So Men without [...] Stings do live,
Upon th' Industrious Stock their Fathers give.
Or like to such that steales [...] Poets Wit,
And dresse it up in his owne Language [...].
But Fancie into every [...] [...];
And sucks the Flowers sweet, of Lips, and [...].
But if they light on those that are not faire,
Like Bees on Hearbes that are wither'd, dry, and seare.
For purest Honey on sweet Flowers lies,
So finest Fancies from young [...] [...].

The Prey of Thoughts.

IF Thoughts be the Mindes Creatures, as some say,
Like other Creatures they on each do Prey.
Ambitious Thoughts, like to a Hawk; flye high,
In Circles of Desires mount the Skie.
And when a Covie of young Hopes do spring,
To catch them strive they with the swiftest Wing.
Thus as the Hawk on Partridges do [...],
So Hopefull Thoughts are for Ambitions Meat.
Thoughts of Selfe-love do swim in Selfe-conceit,
Imaginary Thoughts of Praises bait.
By which the Thoughts of Pride do catch to eat,
And thinke it most high, and delicious [...].
Thoughts of Revenge are like to Lions strong,
Which whet the Appetite with Thoughts of Wrong.
With subtle Thoughts they couch to leap along,
But Bloody Thoughts like Flesh they feed upon.
And Spightfull Thoughts, like Cats, they Micc do catch,
At every corner of Imperfections Watch.
When Spigbt perceives detracting Thoughts to speak,
It strait leaps on, no other Meat doth seek.
Suspicious Thoughts like Hounds do hunt about,
To find the Hare, to eat of Timorous Doubt.
Observing Thoughts do swell which way to trace,
And Hatefull Thoughts do follow close the Chase.
But Thoughts of Patience like to Dormise live,
Eate little; Sleep most nourishment doth give.
And when it feeds, a Thought of Sorrow cracks
A Nut so hard, its Teeth against it knacks.
But Gratefull Thoughts do feed on Thoughts of thanks,
And are industrious, as prudent Ants.
But Thoughts of Love do live on severall Meat,
Of Feares, of Hopes, and of Suspition eat.
And like as Bees do flyeon severall Flowers,
To suck out Honey: so Thoughts do of Lovers.

Similizing Fancy to a Gnat.

SOme Fancies, like small Gnats, buz in the Braine,
Which by the hand of Worldly Cares are slaine.
But they do sting so sore the Poets Head,
His Mind is blister'd, and the Thoughts turn'd red.
Nought can take out the burning heat, and paine,
But Pen, and Ink, to write on Paper plaine.
But take the Oile of Fame, and 'noint the Mind,
And this will be a perfect Cure you'l finde.

Of the Spider.

THE Spiders Hensewifry no Webs doth spin,
To make her Cloath, but Ropes to hang Flies in.
Her Bowels are the Shop, where Flax is found,
Her [...] is the Wheele that goeth round.
A Wall her Distaff, where she sticks thread on,
The Fingers are the Feet that pull it long.
And wheresoever she goes, nere idle sits,
Nor wants a House, builds one with Ropes, and Nets.
Though it be not so strong, as Brick, and Stone,
Yet strong enough to beare light Bodies on.
Within this House the Female Spider lies,
The whilst the Male doth hunt abroad for Flies.
Nere leaves, till he the Flies gets in, and there
Intangles him within his subtle Snare.
Like Treacherous Host, which doth much welcome make,
Yet watches how his Guests Life he may take.

A Comparison between Gold, and the Sun.

Jam the purest of all Natures works,
No Drosse, nor sluggish Moiseure in me lurks.
I am within the Bowels of the Earth,
None knowes of what, or whence I took my Birth.
And as the Sun I shine in Glory bright,
Onely I want his Beames to make a Light.
And as the Sun is chiefe of [...] high,
So on the Earth the chiefest thing am I.
[Page 152] And as the Sun rules there, as Lord, and King,
So on the Earth I governe every thing.
And as the Sun doth run about the World,
So I about from [...] to Man about am hurl'd.

Poets have most Pleasure in this Life.

NAture most Pleasure doth to Poets give;
If Pleasures in Variety do live.
There every Sense by Fancy new is fed,
Which Fancy in a Torrent Braine is bred.
Contrary is to all that's borne on Earth,
For Fancy is delighted most at's Birth.
What ever else is borne, with Paine comes forth,
But Fancy needs not time to make it grow,
Hath neither Beauty, Strength, nor perfect Growth.
Those Braine like Gods, from whence all things do flow.
WHere Gardens are, them Paradise we call,
[...] [...] [...].
For-bidden Fruits, which tempt young Lovers all,
Grow on the Trees, which in the midst is plac'd
Beauty, on the other Desire vast.
The Devill selfe- [...] full craftily
Did take the Serpents shape of Flattery,
For to deceive the Female Sex thereby;
Which made was onely of Inconstancy.
The Male high Credence, which doth relaxe
To any thing, the Female Sex will ask.
Two Rivers round this Garden run about,
The one is Confidence, the other Doubt.
Every Bank is set with Fancies Flowers,
Wit raines upon them fine refreshing Showers.
Truth was the Owner of this place,
But Ignorance this Garden out did raze.
Then from this Garden, to a Forrest goes,
Where many Cedars of high Knowledge growes;
Oakes of strong Judgment, Hasle Wits, which Tree
Beares Nuts full of Conceits, when crackt they bee.
And smooth-Tougu'd Beech, kind-hearted Willow bowes,
And yeilds to all that Honesty allowes.
[Page 153] Here Birds of Eloquence do fit, and sing,
Build Nests, Logick to lay Reasons in.
Some Birds of Sophistry till [...] there lye,
Wing'd with false Principles away they flye,
Here doth the Poet hawk, hunt, run a Race,
Untill he weary growes, then leaves this Place.
Then goes a Fishing to a Rivers side,
Whose Water's cleare, where Fancy flowes high Tide:
Angles with Wit, to catch the [...] of Fame,
To feed his Memory, and preserve his Name.
And of Ambition builds Ships swift, and strong,
Sales of Imaginations drive her on.
With Windes of severall Praises fills them full,
Swimmes on the salt Sea Braine, round the Worlds Scull,
[...] Thoughts labour both day, and night,
For to avoid a Ship-wrack of dislike.
These Ships are often cast upon the Sands of Spight,
And Rocks of Malice sometimes split them quite.
But Merchant Poets, and Ship-Master Mind,
Do compasse take some unknowne Land to finde.

Of the Head.

THE Head of Man's a Church, where Reason preaches,
Directs the Life, and every Thought it teaches.
Perswades the Mind to live in Peace, and quiet,
And not in fruitlesse Contemplation Riot.
For why, saies Reason, you shall damned be
From all Content, for your Curiosity.
To seek about for that you cannot finde,
Shall be a Torment to a restlesse Mind.

The Mine of VVit.

TIS strange Men think so vaine, and seem so sage,
And act so foolish in this latter Age.
Their Braines are alwaies working some designe;
Which Plots they dig, as Miners in the Mine.
Fancy the Minerall, the Mine's the Head,
Some Gold are, Silver, Iron, Tin, and Lead.
[Page 154] The Furnace which 'tis melted in, is [...],
Quick Motion 'tis, which gives a glowing Heat.
The Month's the [...], where the Oare doth run:
The Hammer which the [...] do heat's the Tongue.
The Eare's the Forge to shape, and [...] it out,
And severall Merchants send it all about.
And as the Mettle's worth, the price is set,
And Schollers, which the Buyers are, do get,
On Gold, and Silver, which are Fancies fine,
Are Poets [...], as Masters of that Coine.
Strong Judgments Iron hard is fit for use,
For Peace, or War to joyne up Errours loose.
Though Lead is dull, yet often use is made,
Like to Translators in every Language trade.
But Tin is weake, and of small strength we see,
Yet, joyn'd with Silver Wits, makes [...].
Halfe-witted Men joyn'd with strong Wits, might grow
To be of use, and make a Glisering shew.
GIve me that Wit, whose Fancy's not consin'd,
That buildeth on it selfe, not two Braines joyn'd.
For that's like Oxen yoak'd, and forc'd to draw,
Or like two Witnesses for one Deed in Law.
But like the Sun, that needs no help to rise,
Or like a Bird in Aire which freely flies.
Good Wits are Parallels, that run in length,
Need no Triangular Points to give it strength.
Or like the Sea, which runneth round without,
And graspes the Earth with twining Armes about.
Thus true Born Wits to others strength may give,
Yet by its owne, and not by others live.

THE CLASPE.

Phantasmes Masque.

THE Scene is Poetry.

The Stage is the Braine, whereon it is Acted. First is presented a Dumb Shew, as a young Lady in a Ship, swimming over the Scene in various Weather. Afterwards this Ship came back againe, having then a Commander of War, as the Owner; in various Weather this Ship being in great distresse, Jupiter re­leives it.

Then appeared six Masquers in severall Dresses, as drest by Love, Valour, Honour, Youth, Age, Vanity. Vanity [...] the World, and Age Mortality.

Then there is presented in Shew the Nine Muses, who dance a measure in foure and twenty Which are the 24. Letters of the Alphabet. Figures, and nine Musicall Instru­ments, made of Goose-quils, playing severall Tunes as they dance.

Then a Chorus speakes.

The Bride, and Bridegroome going to the Temple; Fancy speaks the Prologue to Judgment as King. Vanity speaks an Epi­logue to the Thoughts, which are Spectators: Honour speaks another.

Fancies Prologue to Judgment.

GReat King, we here present a Masque to Night,
To Judgments view, and for the Mindes delight.
If it be good, [...] Lights of Praise about.
If it be bad then put those Torches out.

Similizing a young Lady to a Ship.

A Ship of youth in the Worlds Sea was sent,
Ballanc'd with Selfe-conceit, and Pride it went.
And large Sailes of Ambition set thereon,
Hung to a tall Mast of good Opinion.
And on the Waves of Plenty did it ride,
With Winds of Praise, and Beauties flowing Tide.
Unto the Land of Riches it was bound,
To see if Golden Fame might there be found;
And in a Calme of Peace she swims along,
No Stormes of War at that time thought upon,
But when that she had past nineteen Degrees,
The Land of Happinesse she no longer secs:
[Page 156] For then Rebellious Clouds foule black did grow,
And Showers of Blood into those Seas did throw.
And Vapours of sad Sighs, full thick did rise
From grieved Hearts, which in the bottome lyes.
Then Feares like to the Northern Winds blew high,
And Stars of Hopes were clouded in the Skie.
The Sun went downe of all Prosperity,
Reel'd in the troubl'd Seas of Misery.
On Sorrowes Billowes high this Ship was toss'd,
The Card of Mirth, and Mark of Joy was lost.
The Point of Comsort could not be found out,
Her sides did beat upon the Sands of Doubt.
Prudence was Pilot, she with much ado,
A Haven of great France she got into.
Glad was this Ship that she safe Harbour got,
Then on the River of Loire she strait swam up.
For on this River she no [...] feares,
Directly to faire Paris this Barque steers.
And in that place she did some time remaine,
To mend her totter'd, and torne Barque againe.
New Sailes she made, and all her Tacklings fit,
Made her selfe Fine, and Gay, Respect to get.
Where there a Noble Lord this Ship did buy,
And with this Ship he meanes to live and dye.

The Ship.

AFter this Ship another Voyage went,
Ballanc'd it was with Spice of sweet Content.
The Mast was Merit, where Sailes of Love tied on,
By virtuous Zephyrus those Sailes were blowne.
And on the Sea of Honour did it swim,
And to the Land of Fame did Trafsick in.
At last a storm of Poverty did rise,
And Showers of Miseries fell from the Skies.
And [...] Creditors a Noise did make,
With threatning Bills, as if the Ship would break.
This Ship was forc'd towards the Northern Pole;
There Icy Wants did on this Ship take hold.
At last the Sun of Charity did melt
Those Icy Wants, so Liberty she felt:
[Page 157] And Oares of honest Industry did row,
Till gentle Gales of Friend-ship made it go.
But when the Stormes of Dangers all were past;
Upon the Coast of — it was cast.
Yet was this Ship so totter'd, tome, and rent;
That none but Gods the Ruine could prevent.

A Lady drest by Love.

HER Haire with Lovers Hopes curl'd in long Rings,
1 [...].
Her Braides plaited hard with his Protestings.
Yet often times those curled Haires went out,
With Lovers windy Feares, and [...] of Doubt.
Strings of threaded Teares about her Neck she wore,
Dropt from her Lovers Eyes, whose Image bore.
His Sighs as Pendants hung at either Eare,
Sometime were troublesome, if heavie were.
Of Admiration was her Gowne made on,
Where Praises high imbroyder'd were upon.
Ribbons of Verses Love hung here and there,
[...] the severall Fancies were.
With some the tied her Looking-Glasse of Pride,
And Fan of good Opinion by her side.
Sometimes Love Pleasure took a Veile to place,
Of Glances, which did cover all her Face.

A Souldier arm'd by Mars.

A Head- [...] made of Prudence, where's his Eye
2 Masquer.
Of Judgments Dangers, or Mistakes to 'spy.
His breast-plate made of Courage, to keep out
Bullets of Feare, or Blowes of timorous Doubt.
And on his Hands Gauntlets of active Skill,
Wherewith he held a Pole-axe of good Will.
His Sword was a strong, and stiff-mettell'd Blade;
For it was all of pure bright Honour made.
A [...], which Fortune gave, his Wast did tye,
[...] thick with Stars of Purple dye.
A Plume of valiant Thoughts did on his Head-peece [...],
A [...] Cloake of Merit about him was.
His Spurs rowell'd with Hope, which peirc'd the side
Of strong Ambition, whereon he did ride.
[Page 158] Thus he was arm'd, and for great Fame did fight,
She was his [...], he her Champion Knight.

A Lady arest by Youth.

HER Haire was curles of Pleasures, and Delight,
3 [...]
Which through her Skin did cast a glimmering Light.
As Lace, her bashfull Eye-lids downwards hung,
A Modest Countenance
As a [...].
over her Face was flung.
Blushes, as Corall [...] she strung, to weare,
About her Neck, and Pendants for each Eare.
Her Gowne was by Proportion cut, and made,
With Veines Imbroydered, with Complexion laid.
Light words with Ribbons of Chast Thoughts up ties,
And loose Behaviour, which through Errours [...].
Rich Jewels of bright Honour she did weare,
By Noble Actions plac'd were every where.
Thus drest, to Fames great Court strait waies she went,
There danc'd a Brall with Touth, Love, Mirth, Content.

A Woman drest by Age.

A Milk-white Haire-lace wound up all her Haires,
And a deafe Coife did cover both her Eares.
A sober Countenance about her Face she ties,
And a dim Sight doth cover halfe her Eyes.
About her Neck a Kercher of course Skin,
Which Time had crumpl'd, and worne Creases in.
Her Gowne was turn'd to Melancholy black,
Which loose did hang upon her Sides, and Back.
Her Stockings Crampes had knit, Red Worsted Gout,
And Paines, as Garters, tied her Legs about.
A paire of [...] Gloves her Hands draw on,
With [...] [...] stitch'd, and [...] trimm'd upon.
Her Shoes were Cornes, and hard Skin sow'd together,
Hard Skin were Soles, and Cornes the upper Leather.
A Mantle of Diseases laps her round,
And thus shee's drest till Death laies her in Ground.

The Chorus.

THus Love, and War, and Age, and Youth did meet
In scenes of Poetry, and numbers sweet.
War took out Love, and Age did take out Youth,
And all did dance upon the Stage of Truth.

The Bride.

UPon her Head a Crowne of Jewels put,
5 Masquer.
And every Jewell like a Planet cut.
The Diamond, Carbuncle, and Ruby Red,
The Saphir, Topas, and Green Emerald.
His Face was like the Sun that shined bright,
And all those Jewels from her Face took Light.
[Page 159] A Chaine of Gold the Destinies had linckt,
And every Link a good Effect had in't.
And as the Zodiack round the World doth bind,
So doth the [...] about her Body wind.
A Cloath of Silver [...] the Fates did spin,
Where every Thread was twisted hard therein.
Her Haire in curles hung loose, which Cupid blowes,
Betwixt those Curles, her Shoulders white he shewes.
Youth strew'd green Rushes to the [...] Gate,
In [...] Charriot she rid on in State.
With great Applause her Charrioteer drove on,
Eyes of Delight, as [...], run along.
And to the Altar this faire Bride was led,
By Blushing Modesty in Crimson red.
And Innocence drest in Lilly white,
And Hymen beares the Torch that burned bright.
Her Traine was car ried up by Graces Three,
As lovely Hope, and Faith, and Charity.

The Bridegroome.

THE Bridegroome all was drest by Honours fine,
And was attended by the Muses Nine.
Vertue Flowers strew'd of Dispositions sweet,
In honest waies to walk on gentle Feet.
A [...] of [...] upon his Head,
And both by Fortitude, and Justice lead.
Over his Crowne a [...] [...] did set,
Which Fortune often striv'd away to get.
And many [...] of severall Censures rung,
And all the Streets was with Inquiry hung.
And in a Charriot of good Deeds did ride,
And many thankfull Hearts run by his side.

To the Temple.

THus to the Temple the Bride, and Bridegroome went,
Though [...] strove the Marriage to prevent.
Hymen did joyne their Hands, their Hearts did tye,
Not to dislolve untill their Bodies dye.
The Gods did joyne their Soules in Wedlock-Bands,
In Heavens Record their Love for ever stands.

A Masquer drest by Vanity, spoke the Epilogue; his Dresse.

HIs Persum'd powder in's long curles of Haire,
He made Lime-twigs to catch a Maid that's faire.
His Glistring Suit, which every [...] Pride lac'd,
Is made a Bawde for to corrupt the Chast.
A Cut-work Band which [...] had wrought,
A price by which his Mistresse Love was brought.
Silk Stockings, Garters, Roses, all of Gold,
Are Bribes by which his Mistresse Love doth hold.
[Page 160] His severall colour'd Ribbons, which he weares,
As Pages to his [...] Letters beares.
Feathers like Sailes, which wave with every Wind,
Yet by those Sailes hesindes his [...] kind
His [...] [...] deludes a simple Maid,
Perswades her all is Truth, when all's False he said.

Vanities Epilogue to the Thoughts.

NOblest, you see how finely I am drest,
Yet all is Counterfeit that's here exprest.
Vanity doth cheat you all, and doth take Pride,
For to allure you from [...] Virtues Side.
TO Silver Ribbens turn'd was every Haire,
A Masquer drest with Honour, & Time.
Knots of Experience every one tied there.
Cover'd his Head was all with Wisedomes Hat,
Good Managements as Hat-band about that.
His Garments loose, yet Manly did they sit,
Though Time had crumpl'd them, no [...] did get.
His Cloake made of a free, and noble Mind,
And all with Generosity was lin'd.
And Gloves of Bounty his hands drew on,
Stich'd with Love, free Hearts were trimm'd upon.
A Sword of Valour hung close by his side,
To cut of all base Feares, and haughty Pride.
His Boots were Honesty, to walk upon,
And Spurs of good Desires tied them on.
Thus he was drest by Honour, and by Time,
The one did give him Wit, the other made him Fine.

Honours Epilogue.

NOble Spectators, pray this learne by me,
That nothing without Honour, Time, can perfect be.
Honour doth dresle the Mind with Virtuous Weeds,
And is the Parent to all Noble Deeds.
Time doth the Body dresse with Touth, and Age,
And is great Natures Chamber-maid, and Page.
If in Times
Times Cabinet is Oppertu­nity.
Cabinet great Spoiles you find,
The Fault is Ignorance, who's Stupid, blind.
Which Carelesse is, and tumbles all about,
Misplacing all, taking the wrong things out.
But Time's a Huswife good, and takes much paine
To order all, as Nature did ordaine.
All severall Ages on severall Heapes she laies,
And what she takes from Life, to Death she paies.
But if Disorder'd Life doth run in Debt,
Then Death his Serjeants doth Diseases [...].
Which causes Time to give a double Pay,
Because Life spent so much before Rent-day.

To all Writing Ladies.

IT is to be observed, that there is a se­cret working by Nature, as to cast an influence upon the mindes of men: like as in Contagions, when as the Aire is corrupted, it produces severall Diseases; so severall distempers of the minde, by the inflammations of the spirits. And as in healthfull Ages, bodies are purified, so wits are re­fined; yet it seemes to me as if there were severall in­visible spirits, that have severall, but visible powers, to worke in severall Ages upon the mindes of men. For in many Ages men will be affected, and dis-affe­cted alike: as in some Ages so strongly, and supersti­tiously devout, that they make many gods: and in a­nother Age so Atheisticall, as they beleeve in no God at all, and live to those Principles. Some Ages againe have such strong faiths, that they will not only dye in their severall Opinions, but they will Massacre, and cut one anothers throats, because their opinions are different. In some Ages all men seek absolute power, and every man would be Emperour of the World; which makes Civil Wars: for their ambition makes them restlesse, and their restlesnesse makes them seek change. Then in another Age all live peaceable, and so obedient, that the very Governours rule with obedi­ent power. In some Ages againe, all run after Imita­tion, like a company of Apes, as to imitate such a Poet, to be of such a Philosophers opinion. Some A­ges mixt, as Moralists, Poets, Philosophers, and the like: and in some Ages agen, all affect singularity; and they are thought the wisest, that can have the most extravagant opinions. In some Ages Learning flou­risheth in Arts, and Sciences; other Ages so dull, as [Page] they loose what former Ages had taught. And in some Ages it seemes as if there were a Common-wealth of those governing spirits, where most rule at one time. Some Ages, as in Aristocracy, when some part did rule; and other Ages a pure Monarchy, when but one rules; and in some Ages, it seemes as if all those spi­rits were at defiance, who should have most power, which makes them in confusion, and War; so confu­sed are some Ages, and it seemes as if there were spi­rits of the Faeminine Gender, as also the Masculine. There will be many Heroick Women in some Ages, in others very Propheticall; in some Ages very pious, and devout: For our Sex is wonderfully addicted to the spirits. But this Age hath produced many effemi­nate Writers, as well as Preachers, and many effemi­nate Rulers, as well as Actors. And if it be an Age when the effeminate spirits rule, as most visible they doe in every Kingdome, let us take the advantage, and make the best of our time, for feare their reigne should not last long; whether it be in the Amazonian Government, or in the Politick Common-wealth, or in flourishing Monarchy, or in Schooles of Divi­nity, or in Lectures of Philosophy, or in witty Poetry, or any thing that may bring honour to our Sex: for they are poore, dejected spirits, that are not ambitious of Fame. And though we be inferiour to Men, let us shew our selves a degree above Beasts; and not eate, and drink, and sleep away our time as they doe; and live only to the sense, not to the reason; and so turne into forgotten dust. But let us strive to build us Tombs while we live, of Noble, Honourable, and good Acti­ons, at least harmlesse;

That though our Bodies dye,
Our Names may live to after memory.

I Wonder any should laugh, or think it ridiculous to heare of Fairies, and yet verily beleeve there are spirits: which spirits can have no description, because no dimen­sion: And of Witches, which are said to change themselves into severall formes, and then to returne into their first forme againe or­dinarily, which is altogether against nature: yet laugh at the report of Fairies, as impossible; which are onely small bodies, not subject to our sense, although it be to our reason. For Nature can as well make small bodies, as great, and thin bodies as well as thicke. We may as well thinke there is no Aire, because we [...] not see it; or to thinke there is no Aire in an empty Barrel, or the like, because when we put our hands and armes into the same, we doe not feele it. And why should not they get through doores or walls, as well as Aire doth, if their bodies were as thin? And if we can grant there may be a substance, al­though not subject to our sense, then wee must grant, that substance must have some forme; And why not of man, as of any thing else? and why [Page] not rational soules live in a small body, as well as in a grosse, and in a thin, as in a thicke?

Shall we say Dwarfes have lesse soules, be­cause lesse, or thinner bodies? And if rational souls, why not saving souls? So there is no reason in Nature, but that there may not onely be such things as Fairies, but these be as deare to God as we.

POEMS.

Of the Theam of Love.

O Love, how thou art tired out with Rblme!
Thou art a Tree whereon all Poets climbe;
And from thy branches every one takes some
Of thy sweet fruit, which [...] feeds upon.
But now thy Tree is left so bare, and poor,
That they can hardly gather one Plumb more.

The Elysium.

THe Brain is the Elysian fields; and here
All Ghosts and Spirits in strong dreams appeare.
In gloomy shades sleepy Lovers doe walke,
Where soules do entertain themselves with talke.
And Heroes their great actions do relate,
Telling their Fortunes good, and their sad Fate;
What chanc'd to them when they awak'd did live,
Their World the light did great Apollo give;
And what in life they could a pleasure call,
Here in these Fields they passe their time withall.
Where Memory, the Ferriman, doth bring
New company, which through the Senses swim.
The Boat Imagination's alwayes full,
Which Charon roweth in the Region [...],
And in that Region is that River [...],
There some are dipt, then all things soon forgets.
But this Elysium Poets happy call,
Where Poets as great Gods do record all.
The souls of those that they will choose for blisse,
And their sweet number'd verse their pastport is,
[Page 142] But those that strive this happy place to seek,
Is but to goe to bed, and fall asleep.
Yet what a stir doe Poets make, when they
By their wit Mercury those soules convey.
But what, cannot the God-head Wit create.
Whose Fancies are both Destiny, and Fate,
And Fame the thread which long and short they spin,
The World as Flax unto their Distaffe bring.
This Distaffe spins fine canvas of conceit,
Wherein the Sense is woven even, and strait.
But if in knots, and snarles intangled be,
The thread of Fame doth run unevenly:
Those that care not to live in Poets verse,
Let them lye dead upon Oblivions Hearse.

A Description of Shepherds, and Shepher­desses.

THe Shepherdesses which great Flocks doe keep,
Are dabl'd high with dew, following their Sheep,
Milking their Ewes, their hands doe dirty make;
For being wet, dirt from their Duggs doe take.
The Sun doth scorch the skin, it yellow growes,
Their eyes are red, lips dry with wind that blowes.
Their Shepherds sit on mountains top, that's high,
Yet on their feeding sheep doe cast an eye;
Which to the mounts steep sides they hanging feed
On short moyst grasse, not suffer'd to beare seed;
Their feet though small, strong are their sinews string,
Which make them fast to rocks & mountains cling:
The while the Shepherds leggs hang dangling down,
And sets his breech upon the hills high crown.
Like to a tanned Hide, so was his skin,
No melting heat, or numming cold gets in,
And with a voyce that's harsh against his throat,
He straines to sing, yet knowes not any Note:
And yawning, lazie lyes upon his side,
Or strait upon his back, with armes spred wide;
Or snorting sleeps, and dreames of Joan their Maid,
[Page 143] Or of Hobgoblin wakes, as being afraid.
Motion in their dull braines doth plow, and sow,
Not Plant, and set, as skilfull Gardners doe.
Or takes his Knife new ground, that half was broke,
And whittles sticks to pin up his sheep-coat:
Or cuts some holes in straw, to Pipe thereon
Some tunes that pleaseth Joan his Love at home.
Thus rustick Clownes are pleas'd to spend their times,
And not as Poets faine, in Sonnets, Rhimes,
Making great Kings and Princes Pastures keep,
And beauteous Ladies driving flocks of sheep:
Dancing 'bout May-poles in a rustick sort,
When Ladies scorne to dance without a Court.
For they their Loves would hate, if they should come
With leather Jerkins, breeches made of Thrum,
And Buskings made of Freeze that's course, and strong,
With clouted Shooes, tyed with a leather thong.
Those that are nicely bred, fine cloaths still love,
A white hand sluttish seemes in dirty Glove.

A Shepherds imployment is too meane an Al­legory for Noble Ladies.

TO cover Noble Lovers in Shepherds weeds,
Of high descent, too humble thoughts it breeds:
Like Gods, when they to Men descend down low,
Take off the reverence, and respect we owe.
Then make such persons like faire Nymphs to be,
Who're cloath'd with beauty, bred with modesty:
Their tresses long hang on their shoulders white,
Which when they move, doe give the Gods delight.
Their Quiver, Hearts of men, which fast are ty'd,
And [...] of quick flying eyes beside.
Buskings, that's buckl'd close with plates of gold,
Which from base wayes their legs with strength doe hold.
Men, Champions, Knights, which Honour high doe prize,
Above the tempting of alluring eyes,
That seeke to kill, or at the least to binde,
All evil Passions in a wandring minde.
[Page 144] To take those Castles kept by scandals strong,
That have by errours been inchanted long,
Destroying monstrous Vice, which Vertues eate,
These Lovers worthy are of praises great.
So will high Fame aloud those praises sing,
Cupid those Lovers shall to Hymen bring,
At Honours Altar joyne both hearts and hands,
The Gods will seale those Matrimoniall bands.

Between Shame and Dishonour.

DIshonour in the house of Shame doth dwell,
The way is broad, and open is as Hell:
Yet Porter have, which Basenesse some doe call,
And Idlenesse, as usher of the Hall.
The house with dark forgetfulnesse is hung,
And round about Ingratitude is flung:
Boldnesse for Windowes, which out-face the Light,
Dissembling as Curtaines drawne with spight:
VVith Covetousnesse all gilded are the roofes,
The Weather-cock Inconstancy still moves:
Pillars of Obstinacies as firmly stands,
Carved with Perjury by cunning hands.
And Lust on beds of Luxury doe lye,
VVhere Chamberlaines of Jealousies out-spy:
Gardens of riot, where the wanton walkes,
Lascivious Arbours where Obscenenesse talks:
Store-houses of Theft ill gotten goods lyes in,
A secret doore bolted with a false pin:
Bake-house ill Consciences mould, and make
False hearts as Oven hot, those hard doe bake:
Brew-houses, where ill designes are tunned up,
VVith their light Graines, false Measures, and corrupt:
Cellars of Drunkennesse, barrels, stomacks made,
And mouthes for Taps, where spue for drink out-wades:
Kitchens of slander, where good names they burne,
Spits of revenge, on which ill deeds doe turne:
The Slaughter-roome of horrid Murder built,
A Knife of Cruelty, by which bloud is spilt:
[Page 145] In Matrimonial bonds dishonour's linkt
With Infamy, which is as black as inke.

The Temple of Honour.

HOnours brave Temple is built both high and wide,
VVhose walls are of clear glasse on every side;
VVhere actions of all sorts are perfect seen,
VVhere Truth as Priest approves, which worthy'st been;
And on the Altar of the world them layes,
And offers them with sacrificing praise.
VVhich offerings are so clean without a speck,
The Offerings.
As Honours God-head cannot them reject.
As pious Tears, with thoughts most chaste and pure,
And patient minds afflictions to indure;
Wise-mens brains, which bring things to good effect,
A helping hand without a bribe suspect;
A tongue, which Truth in Eloquence doth dresse,
And Lippes, which worthy praises do expresse;
Eyes that pry out, and spie examples good,
Feet that in wayes of mischiefe never stood;
Haire from heads, that shav'd for holy vow,
Which as a witnesse, blessing gods allow.
Breasts, from whence proceed all good desires,
Which lock up secrets, if that need requires;
And hearts, from whence clear springs of love do rise,
Where loyall courage in the bottome lyes.
Besides here's spleen's, which never malice bore,
And shoulders, with distressed burthens wore.
An humble knee, that bows to ruling powers,
And hands of Bounty, which on misery showers.
Kings Crowns, which rul'd with Justice, Love, and Peace,
VVhose power serv'd, from slavery to release.
Here speculations from much Musing grow,
Which Reasons proof, and Times experience shew.
Witty inventions, which men profit bring,
Inspiring verse, which Poets to gods sing;
White innocence, as Girdles Virgins wear,
That onely Hymen from their waste doth tear:
And Hymens Torches, which burn bright and clear;
[Page 146] Shew, jealousie and falshood nere came neere.
Garlands of Laureil, which keep ever green,
Which for the best of Poets Crownes have been:
The Olive branch, which embleame is of peace,
There offer'd is for the worlds good increase:
Mirtle for Lovers constant, which are true,
Then for Misfortunes lay the bitter Rue:
Sighs, which from deep compassion do flow out,
And faiths, which never knew to make a doubt.
Thus offer'd all, with gratefull Hearts in rankes,
Whereon was sprinckled the essence of thankes.
Brought was the fire of Love, which burnt all [...]
Holy-water, the penitentiall Tear:
The Priests, which were the Cardinall Vertues foure,
Those Ceremonies executed o're.
In grave procession honour high [...] raise,
And with their Anthems sweet did sing her praise.

Fame.

THen on her wings doth Fame those Actions bear
Which flye about, and carry'hem every where.
Sometime she overloaded is with all,
And then some downe into Oblivion fall.
But those that would to Fames high Temple go,
Must first great Honours Temple quite passe through.

The Temple of Fame.

THis Temple is divided in two parts,
Some open lye, others obscure as hearts.
Some light as day, others as darke as night,
By times obscurity worn out of sight.
The outward rooms all glorious to the eye,
In which Fames image placed is on high.
Where all the windows are Triangulars cut,
VVhere from one face a million of faces put:
And builded is in squares, just like a Cube,
VVhich way to double hard is in dispute.
VVherein the Ecchoes do like balls rebound,
From every corner, making a great sound.
[Page 147] The walls are hung with chapiters all of gold,
In Letters great all actions there are told.
The Temple doore is of prospective Glasse,
Through which a small beame of our eye can passe.
That makes truth there so difficult to know,
As for the bright Moone, a new world to show.
The Steeple, or Pillars, of Goose-quils built,
And plastered over with white paper guilt:
The painting thereof with Inke black as jet,
In severall workes and figures like a Net.
This Steeple high is, and not very light,
As a faire Evening is 'twixt day, and night.
Five Tongues, the five Bells through the world do ring,
And to each severall eare much newes doe bring.
The Philosophers Tongue doth give a deep sound,
But the Historians is no better found:
The Oratours Tongue doth make a great noyse,
Grammarians sound harsh, as if it had flawes:
The small Bell, a Poets tongue, changes oft,
Whose motion is quick, smooth, even, and soft.
The ropes they hung by, we could not well see,
For they were long small threads of Vain-glory.
But yet when they did ring, made a sweet chime,
Especially when the Poet he did rhime.
The Belfrey man, a Printer by his skill,
That, if he pleases, may ring when he will.
When Priest to Mattens, or to Vespers goe,
To the High Altar they bow downe low.
This Altar, whereon they offer unto Fame,
Is made of braines, armes, and hearts without blame:
On which lyes Wisdome, Wit, Strength, Courage, Love,
Offer'd as sacrifices to Fame above:
Vertues, Arts, Sciences, as Priest here stands,
But Fortune Prioresse all these commands.
Incense of noble deeds to Fame she sends,
Nothing is offer'd, but what she recommends.
For Fortune brings more into Fames high Court,
Then all their vertues with their great [...].

Fames Library within the Temples.

FAmes Library, where old Records are plac'd,
What acts not here unto oblivion cast.
There stands the skelves of Time, where books do lye,
Which books are tyed by chaines Of destiny.
The Master of this place they Favour call,
Where Care the door-keeper, doth lock up all:
Yet not so fast, but Bribery in steals,
Partialities, cousenage truths not reveals.
But Bribery through all the world takes place,
And offerings as a bribe in heaven findes grace.
Then let not men disdaine a bribe to take,
Since gods doe blessing give for a bribes sake.

The Fairy Queen.

THe Fairy Queens large Kingdome got by birth,
Is in the circled center of the Earth,
Where there are many springs, and running streams,
Whose waves do glister by the Queens bright beams.
Which makes them murmure as they passe away,
Because by running round they cannot stay.
For they do evermore,
The waters run in circulations.
just like the Sun,
As constantly in their long race they run:
And as the Sun gives heat to make things spring,
So water moyslure gives to every thing.
Thus these two Elements give life to all,
Creating every thing on Earths round ball.
And all along this liquid source that flows,
Stand Mirtle trees, and banks where flowers grows.
'Tis true, there are no Birds to sing sweet notes,
But there are winds that whistle like birds throats;
Whose sounds, and notes by variation oft,
Make better Musicke then the Spheares aloft,
Nor any beasts are there of cruell nature,
But a slow, sost worm, a gentle creature,
Who fears no hungry birds to pick them out,
Safely they graspe the tender twigs about.
[Page 149] There Mountains are of pure resined gold,
And Rocks of Diamonds perfect to behold;
Whose brightnesse is a Sun to all about,
Which glory makes Apollo's beams keep out.
Quarries of Rubles, Saphirs there are store,
Christals, and [...] many more.
There polisht pillars naturally appeare,
VVhere twining vines are clustred all the yeare.
The Axle-tree whereon the Earth turnes round,
Is one great [...], by opinion found.
And the two ends, which called are the Poles,
Are pointed Diamonds, the Antartick holds,
And Artick; which about the world is rowl'd,
Are rings of pure, refined, perfect gold.
Which makes the Sun so seldome there appear,
For fear those rings should melt, if he came near.
And as a wheele the Elements are found
In even Layes, and often turnings round.
For first the sire in circle, as the spoake,
And then the water, for aire is the smoak
Begot of both; for fire doth water boyle,
That causes clouds, or smoak which is the oyle.
This smoaky childe sometimes is good, then bad,
According to the nourishment it had.
The outward [...], as the Earth suppose,
Which is the surface where all plenty flows.
Yet the Earth is not the cause of turning,
But the siery spoak; not fear of burning
The Axle-tree, for that grows hard with heat,
And by its quicknesse turns the wheel, though great,
Unlesse by outward weight it selfe presse down,
Raising the bottome, bowing down the Crown.
Yet why this while am I so long of proving,
But to shew how this Earth still is moving.
And the heavens, as wheels, do turn likewise,
As we do daily see before our eyes.
To make the Proverb good in its due turn,
That all the world on wheels doth yeerly run.
And by the turn such blasts of wind doe blow,
[Page 150] As we may think like Windmils they do go.
But winds are made by Vulcans bellows sure,
Which makes the Earth such Collicks to endure.
For he, a Smith set at the sorge below,
Ordained is the Center-fire to blow.
But Venus laughs to thinke what horns he wears,
Though on his shoulders halfe the Earth he bears,
Nature her mettal makes him hammer out,
All that she sends through Mines the world about.
For he's th' old-man that doth i'th Center dwell,
She Proserpine, that's thought the Queen of hell.
Yet Venus is a Tinkers wife, we see,
Not a goddesse, as she was thought to be;
When all the world to her did offerings bring,
And her high praise in prose, and verse did sing:
And Priests in orders, on her Altars tend,
And to her Image all the wise heads bend.
But to vain wayes that men did go,
To worship gods they do not know.
Tis true, her sonne's a prettyLad,
And is a Foot-boy to Queen Mab;
Which makes fires, and sets up lights,
And keeps the door for Carpet Knights.
For when the Queen is gone to sleep,
Then revel-rout the Court doth keep.
Yet heretosore men striv'd to prove,
That Cupid was the god of love.
But if that men could to the Center go,
They soon would see that it were nothing so.
Here Nature nurses, and sends them season,
All things abroad, as she seeth reason.
When she commands, all things do her obey,
Unlesse her countermand some things do stay.
For she stayes life, when drugs are well apply'd,
And healing balmes to deadly wounds beside.
There Mab is Queen of all, by Natures will,
And by her favour she doth govern still.
Happy [...], that is in Natures grace;
For young she's alwayes, being in this place.
[Page 151] But leaving here, let's see the sport,
That's acted in the Fairy Court.

The Pastime, and Recreation of the Queen of Fairies in Fairy-land, the Center of the Earth.

WHere this Queen Mab, and all her Fairy fry,
Are dancing on a pleasant mole-bill high;
With fine small stram-pipes sweet Musicks pleasure,
By which they do keep just time and measure.
All hand in hand, a round, a round,
They dance upon this Fairy ground.
And when the Queen leaves off to dance,
She calls for all her Attendants,
Her to wait on unto a Bower,
Where she doth sit under a flower,
To shade her from the Moon-shine bright,
Where Gnats do sing for her delight.
Some high, some low, some Tenour strain,
Making a Consort very plain.
The whilst the Bat doth flye about,
To keep in order all the rout;
And with her wings she strikes them hard,
Because no noise there should be heard.
She on a dewy leafe doth bathe,
And as she sits, the lease doth wave.
There, like a new-fallen flake of snow,
Doth her white limbes in beauty shew.
Her garments faire her maid, put on,
Made of the pure light from the Sun;
From whence such colours she inshades,
In every object she invades.
Then to her dinner she goes stroight,
Where every one in order wait;
And on a Mushroom there is [...]
A cover fine of Spiders web.
And for her stood a Thistle-down,
And for her cup an Acorns crown;
Wherein strong Nectar there is fill'd,
[Page 152] That from sweet flowers is distill'd.
Flyes of all sorts both fat, and good,
Partridge, Snipes, Quailes, and Poult, her food.
[...], Larks, Cocks, or any kinde,
Both wilde, and tame, you may there finde.
Amelets made of Ants-egs new,
Of these high meats she eats but few.
Her milk comes from the Dormouse udder,
Making fresh Cheese, Creame, and Butter.
This milk doth make many a fine knack,
When they fresh Ants-egs therein crack.
Both Pudding, Custards, and Seed-cake,
As her skill'd Cook knows how to make.
To sweeten them, the [...] doth bring
Pure honey, gathered by her sting:
But for her guard serves grosser meat,
On stall-fed Dormouse they do cat.
When din'd, she calls to take the aire,
In Coach, which is a Nutshel faire:
Lin'd soft it is, and rich within,
Made of a glistering Adders skin.
And there six Crickets draw her fast,
And she a journey takes in haste;
Or else two serves to pase a round,
And trample on the Fairy ground.
To hawke sometimes she takes delight,
Which is a Hornet swift for flight;
Whose horns do serve for Talons strong,
To gripe the Partridge Flye among.
But if she will a hunting go,
Then she the Lizzard makes the Doe.
They are so swift, and fleet in chase,
As her slow Coach can never pase.
Then on Grashopper doth she ride,
Who gallops far in forrest wide.
Her Bow is of a willow branch,
To shoot the Lizzard on the haunch.
Her arrow sharp, much like a blade
Of a Rosemary leafe is made.
[Page 153] Then home shee's called by the Cock,
Who gives her warning what's a Clock.
And when the Moon doth hide her head,
Their day is done, so goeth to bed.
Meteors do serve, when they are bright,
As Torches do, to give her light.
Glow-worms for candles are light up,
Set on her table, while she sup.
And in her chamber they are plac'd,
Not fearing how the Tallow wast.
But women, that inconstant are by kind,
Can never in one place content their mind.
For she her Charriot cals, and will away,
To upper Earth, impatient is of stay.

The Pastime of the Queen of Fairies, when she comes upon the Earth out of the Center.

THis lovely sweet, and beauteous Fairy Queen,
Begins to rise, when Vespers star is seen.
For she is kin unto the god of Night,
So to Diana, and the stars so bright.
And so to all the rest in some degrees,
Yet not so neer relation as to these.
As for Apollo, she disclaims him quite,
And swears she nere will come within his light.
For they fell out about some foolish toy,
Where ever since in him she takes no joy.
She faith, he alwayes doth more harm then good,
If that his malice were true understood.
For he brings dearths by parching up the ground,
And sucks up waters, that none can be found.
He makes poor man in feav'rish plagues to lye,
His arrows hot, both man and beast do dye.
So that to him she never wil come neare,
But hates to see, when that his beams appear.
This makes the Cock her notice give, they say,
That when he rises, she may goe her way.
And makes the Owle her favorite to be,
[Page 154] Because Apollo's face she hates to see.
Owles sleep all day, yet hollow in the night,
Make acclamations that they'r out of sight.
So doth the Glow-worm all day hide her head,
But lights her taper-taile, when hee's a bed,
To wait upon the fairest Fairy Queen,
Whilst she is sporting on the meady green.
Her pastime onely is when she's on earth,
To pinch the Sluts, which make Hobgoblin mirth:
Or changes children while the nurses sleep,
Making the father rich, whose child they keep.
This Hobgoblin is the Queen of Fairies fool,
Turning himselfe to Horse, Cow, Tree, or Stool;
Or any thing to crosse by harmlesse play,
As leading Travellers out of their way,
Or kick downe Payls of Milk, cause Cheese not turn,
Or hinder Butter's coming in the Churne:
Which makes the Farmers wife to scold, and fret,
That she the Cheese, and Butter cannot get.
Then holds he up the Hens Rumps, as they say,
Because their Eggs too soon they should not lay.
The good Wife sad, squats down upon a chaire,
Not at all thinking it was Hob the Faire:
Where frowning sits; then Hob gives her the slip,
And downe she falls, whereby she hurts her hip.
And many prankes, which Hob playes on our stage,
With his companion Tom Thumb, the Queenes Page;
Who doth like peice of fat in pudding lye,
There almost chokes the Eater, going awry.
And when he's down, the Guts, their wind blowes out,
Putting the standers by into a rout.
Thus shames the Eater with a foule disgrace,
That never after dare he shew his face.
Besides, in many places puts himselfe,
As Baggs, Budgets, being a little Elfe,
To make his bearers start away with feare,
To thinke that any thing alive is there.
In this, the Queen of Fairies takes delight,
In summers even, and in winters night;
[Page 155] And when that She is weary of these playes,
She takes her Coach, and goeth on her wayes,
Unto her Paradise, the Center deep,
Which is the Store-house rich of Nature sweet.

Her descending downe.

THe stately Pallace in which the Queen dwels,
Whose fabrick is built of Hodmandod shels,
The hangings thereof a Rain-bow that's thin,
VVhich seemes wondrous fine, if one enter in,
The Chambers are made of Amber that's cleare,
VVhich gives a sweet smell, if fire be neare:
Her Bed a Cherry-stone, carved throughout,
And with a Butter-flyes wing hung about:
Her Sheets are made of a Doves eyes skin,
Her Pillow a Violet bud laid therein:
The large doores are cut of transparent Glasse,
VVhere the Queen may be seen, as she doth passe.
The doores are locked fast with silver pins,
The Queen's asleep, and now our day begins.
Her time in pleasure passes thus away,
And shall doe so, until the worlds last day.

The VVindy Gyants.

THe foure chiefe Winds are Gyants, long in length,
As broad are set, and wondrous great in strength.
These Gyants have Heads (as it doth appeare)
More then the Months, or Seasons of the yeare.
And some say more then days, and all the nights,
That they are numberlesse, and infinites.
The first foure Heads are largest of them all,
The twelve are next, the thirty two but small;
The rest so little, and their breath so weake,
Their mouthes so narrow, cannot heare them speake.
These Gyants are so lustfull, and so wilde,
As they doe force to get the Earth with childe;
And big she swels until the time of birth,
[Page 156] Her bowels stretcht, high belly'd is the earth;
Then doth she groane with grievous paines, and shake;
Untill she's brought a bed with her Earth-quake.
This Child of Wind doth [...] all it meets,
Rends Rocksand Mountains, like to Paper sheets:
It swallows Cities, and [...] [...] [...] [...],
It threatens Jove, and makes the gods to feare.
And the cold North wind, his [...] dry, and strong,
Pulling up Oakes, then layes them all along.
In fetters of hard Ice bindes Rivers fast,
Imprisons Fishes in the Ocean vast:
Plowes up the Seas, and Haile for seed in flings,
Where crops of over-flowes the Tide in brings.
He drives the Clouds in troops, which makes them [...],
And blowes, to put the [...] out of the Sun.
The Southern Wind, who is as [...] as he,
And to the Sun as great an [...];
Raising an Army of [...] Clouds, and Mists,
Which with them thinks [...] [...] just as he lists,
Throwing up waters to quench out his Light,
Flings in his face black Clouds, to hide his sight.
But the hot Sun cannot endure this scorne,
And back in showres of raine doth them [...].
The Westerne wind, without ambitious ends,
Doth what he can to joyne, and make them friends;
For he is of a nature sweet, and milde,
And not so head-strong, rough, nor rude, nor wide.
He's soft to touch, and [...] to each [...],
His voyce sounds sweet, and small, and very cleare;
And makes hot love to young fresh buds that springs;
They give him sweets, which he through Aire them flings;
Not from dislike, but to [...] them [...],
As Pictures doe, for [...] that are faire.
But O, the Easterne Wind is full of spight,
Diseases brings, which [...] doebite;
He blasts young buds, and [...] within the [...],
[Page 157] He rots the Sheep, to men he brings the Plague:
He is an enemy, and of Nature ill,
The world would poyson, if he had his will.

VVitches of Lapland.

LApland is the place from [...] all Winds come,
From Witches, not from Caves, as doe think some.
For they the Aire doe draw into high Hills,
And beat them out againe by certaine Mills:
Then sack it up, and sell it out for gaine
To Mariners, which traffick on the maine.

Of the Sunne, and the Earth.

THrough Earth's [...] holes her sweat doth passe,
Which is the Dew that lyes upon the Grasse:
VVhere (like a Lover kinde) the Sun wipes clean,
That her faire face may to the Light be seen;
And for her sake that water he esteemes,
Threading those drops upon his silver beames,
Like ropes of Pearle; he drawes them to his sphere,
Turning those drops to Chrystall when they're there.
Yet, what he gathers, cannot he keep all,
But downe againe some of those drops doe fall:
When turning back upon her head they run,
He clouds his browes, as if he had ill done.
But Lovers thinke they alwayes doe [...],
Although those showres her refreshment is.
VVhen she by sweat exhausted growes, and dry,
The Sun the [...] Clouds [...] squeeze in sky;
Or [...] he takes some of his sharpest beames,
To break the Clouds, from whence poure Chrystall streams.
Then Earth doth drink too much, yet doth not reele;
She cannot dizzy be, though sicknesse feele.

Of a Garden.

AGarden is, some Paradise doe call,
The place is alwayes th' [...]:
Ecchoes there are most artificiall made,
[Page 158] And cooling Grottoes, from the heat to shade.
The azure sky is alwaies bright, and cleare;
No grosse thick vapours in the Clouds appeare.
There many Stars doe comfort the sad night,
The fixt with twinckling, with the [...] give light.
No noyse is heard, but what the [...] delights;
No fruites are there, but what the taste invites.
Up through the Nose bruis'd Flowers fume the braine,
As Honey-dew in balmy showres raine.
Various colours, by Nature intermixt,
Direct the eyes, as no one thing can fix.
Here Atomes small on Sun-beames dance all day,
While Zephyrus sweet doth on the aire play:
Which Musick from Apollo beares the praise,
And Orpheus at the sound his Harp downe layes.
Apollo yeelds, and not contends with spight,
Presenting Zephyrus with twelve houres of light:
And night, though sad, in quiet pleasure takes,
With silence listens when he Musick makes.
And when day comes, with griefe descends down low,
That she no longer must heare Zephyrus blow:
And with her Mantle black her selfe inshrouds,
Which is imbroyder'd all of Stars in clouds.
Here are intermixing walkes of pleasure,
Grasse, Sand, short, broad, and all sorts of measure.
Some shaded, fit for Lovers musing thought
Of Loves Idea, when the mind's full fraught.
The walkes are firme, and hard, as Marble are,
Yet soft as Downe, by Grasse that groweth there,
Where Daisies grow as [...], in a night,
Mix'd white, and yellow, green, to please the sight.
At Dawning day the dew all over-spreads,
In little drops upon those Daisies heads:
As thick as Stars are set in heaven high,
So Daisies on the earth as close doe lye.
Here Emerauld bankes, from whence fine flowers spring,
Whose sents and colours various pleasure bring.
Primroses, Couslips, Violets, [...],
Roses, Honey-suckles, and white [...],
[...]-flowers, Pinks, and Marigolds besides,
[Page 159] Sit on the bank, inrich'd with Natures pride.
On other bankes grow Simples, which are good
For Medicines, well applyed, and understood.
There Trees doe grow, that proper are, and tall,
Their [...] is smooth, and bodies sound withall;
Whose spreading tops are full, and ever green,
As Nazarites heads, where Rasor hath not been:
And curled leaves, which bowing branches beare,
By warmth are fed; for winter nere comes there.
There Fruits delicious to the taste doe grow,
Where with delight the sense doth over-flow:
And Arched Arbours, where sweet Birds doe sing,
Whose bollow rooses doe make each Eccho ring.
Prospects which Trees, and Clouds by mixing shewes,
Joyn'd by the eye, one perfect peece it grows.
Here Fountaines are, where trilling drops down run,
Which sparkes do twinckle like fixt Stars, or Sun:
And through each severall spout such noyse it makes,
As Bird in spring, when he his pleasure takes.
Some chirping Sparrow, and the singing Lark,
Or [...] Nightingale in evening dark;
And whistling Black bird, with the pleasant Thrush,
Linnet, Bul-finch, which sing in every bush.
No weeds are here, nor wither'd leaves, and dry,
But ever green, and pleasant to the eye.
No Frost, to nip the tender buds in birth,
Nor winter snow to fall on this sweet earth.
For here the Spring is alwayes in her prime,
Because this place is underneath the Line:
The Day, and Night, equall, by turnes keep watch,
That theevish time should nothing from them catch.
And every Muse a severall walke injoyes,
The sad in shades, the light with sports imployes.
Censuring Satyrs, they in corners lurke;
Yet, as their Gard'ners, they with Art do work,
To cut and [...], to sow, ingraft, and fet,
Gather fruits, flowers, what each Muse thinkes fit:
And Nymphs, as Hand-maids, their attendance give;
Which, for reward, their fames by Muses live.

Of an Oake in a Grove.

A Shady Grove, trees grew in equall space,
Which seem'd to be a consecrated place.
Through spreading boughs, their quivering light broke in,
Much like to Glasse, or Christall shiver'd thin:
Those peices small on a green Carpet strew'd,
So in this wood, the light all broken shew'd.
But this disturbed light the Grove did grace,
As sadnesse doth a faire and beauteous face.
And in the midst an ancient Oake stood there,
It was a cu­stome in anci­ent time to hang their offerings on trees.
Which heretofore did many Offerings beare;
Where all the branches round with reliques hung,
To shew what cures the Gods for men had done:
And for rewards, long life the Gods did give
Unto this Oake, that aged he must live.
His younger yeares, when Acornes he did beare,
No Dandriffe, Mosse, but fresh green leaves grew there.
There curled hung his shoulders, broad they spread,
His crown was thick, and bushy was his head,
His stature tall, full breasted, broad, and big,
His body round, and strait was every twig.
But youth, and beauty, which are shadowes thin,
Doe fade away, as if they ne're had been.
For all his fresh green leaves, and smooth moyst rine,
Are quite worne off, and now grown bald with time.
His armes so strong, which grappl'd with the winds,
His barke so thick, as skin, his body binds;
Where he all times and seasons firme could stand,
And many a blust'ring storme he over-came.
Yet now so weake and feeble he doth grow,
That every blast is apt him downe to throw.
His branches all are fear'd, his bark grown gray,
Most of his rine with time is peel'd away.
The liquid sap, which from the root did rise,
(Where every thirsty bough it did suffice)
Is all drunke up, there is no moysture left,
The root is rotten, and his body's cleft.
[Page 161] Thus Time doth ruine, brings all to decay,
Though to the Gods doth still devoutly pray:
For this old Oake was sacred to high Jove,
Which was the King of all the Gods above.
But Gods, when they created all at first,
They did ordaine all should returne to dust.

Of a wrought Carpet, presented to the view of working Ladies.

THe Spring doth spin fine grasse green silk, of which
To weave a Carpet (like the Persian rich)
And all about the borders there are spread
Clusters of Grapes mix'd green, blew, white, and red;
And in the mid'st the Gods in sundry shapes,
Are curious wrought, divulging all their Rapes,
And all the ground with Flowers there are strow'd,
As if by Nature they were set, so grow'd.
Those Figures all like Sculpture doe beare out,
To lye on Flats many will make a doubt.
The Dark and Light so intermix'd are laid,
For shady Groves that Priest devoutly pray'd.
The fruits so hung, as did invite the tasle,
And small Birds picking seen to make a waste.
The ground was wrought like threads drawne from the Sun,
Which shin'd so blasing like to a fir'd Gun.
This peice the patterne is of Artfull skil,
Art, Imitator is of Nature still.

A Man to his Mistresse.

ODoe not grieve, Deare Heart, nor shed a teare,
Since in your eyes my life doth stil keep there
And in your countenance my death I finde,
And buried in your melancholly mind.
But in your smiles I'me glorifi'd to rise,
And in your love you me eternalize:
Thus by your favour I a God become,
And by your hate I doe a Devil turne.

The Claspe.

Of small Creatures, such as we call Fairies.

WHo knowes, but in the Braine may dwel
Little small Fairies; who can tell?
And by their severall actions they may make
Those formes and figures, we for fancy take.
And when we sleep, those Visions, dreames we call,
By their industry may be raised all;
And all the objects, which through sens'es get,
Within the Braine they may in order set.
All objects that the Senses bring in, are as Merchandises brought from forreign parts.
And some pack up, as Merchants do each thing,
Which out sometimes may to the Memory bring.
Thus, besides our owne imaginations,
Fairies in our braine beget inventions.
If so, the eye's the sea they traffick in,
And on salt watry teares their ship doth swim.
But if a teare doth breake, as it doth fall,
Or wip'd away, they may a shipwrach call.
When from the stomach vapours doe arise,
Fly up into the Head, (as to the skies)
And as stormes use, their houses down may blow,
Which, by their fall, the Head may dizzy grow.
And when those houses they build up againe,
With knocking hard they put the Head to paine.
When they dig deep, perchance the Tooth may ake,
And from a Tooth a Quarry-bone may take;
Which like to stone, may build their house withall:
If much took out, the tooth may rotten fall.
Those that dwell neere the eares, are very cool,
For they are both the South, and Northern Pole.
The eyes are Sun and Moon, which give them light,
When open, day, when shut, it is dark night.

The City of the Fairies.

THe City is the Braine, incompast in
Double walls (Dura Mater, Pia Mater thin)
It's trenched round about with a thick scull,
And fac'd without with wondrous Art, and skill.
The Fore-head is the fort, that's builded high,
And for the Sentinels is either Eye.
And the place where Memory doth lye in,
Is the great Magazine of Oberon King.
The Market-place the Mouth, when full, begun
Is Market day, when empty, Markets done.
The City Conduit where the water flowes,
Is through two spouts, the nostrils of the Nose.
But when those watry spouls close stopt are not,
Then we say strait a Cold, or Pose have got.
The Gates are the two Eares, when deaf they are,
It is when they those City Gates doe bar.
This City's govern'd as most Cities be,
By Aldermen, and so by Mayoralty.
And Oberon King dwels never any where,
But in a Royall Head, whose Court is there:
Which is the kernell of the Braine, if seen,
We there might view him, and his beauteous Queen;
Sure that's their Court, and there they sit in state,
And Noble Lords, and Ladies on them wait.

The Fairies in the Braine, may be the causes of many thoughts.

VVHen we have pious thoughts, and thinke of heaven,
Yet goe about, not ask to be forgiven,
Perchance their preaching, or a Chapter saying,
Or on their knees devoutly they are praying.
When we are sad, and know no reason why,
Perchance it is, because some there doe dye.
And some place in the Head is hung with blacke,
Which makes us dull, yet know not what we lack.
[Page 164] Our fancies, which in verse, or prose we put,
Are Pictures which they draw, or [...] cut,
And when those fancies are both fine, and thin,
Then they ingraven are in seale, or ring.
When we have crosse opinions in the minde,
They in the Schooles disputing we shall finde.
When we of childish toyes doe thinke upon,
A Fayre may be whereto those people throng,
And in those stalles may all such knacks be sold;
As Bels, and Rattles, or bracelets of Gold.
Or Pins, Pipes, Whistles are to be bought there,
And thus within the Head may be a Fayre.
When that our braine with amorous thoughts doth run,
Are marrying there a Bride with her Bride-groom.
And when our thoughts are merry, humours gay,
Then they are dancing on their Wedding day.

Of the Animal Spirits.

THose Spirits which we Animal doe call,
May Men, and Women be, and Creatures small;
And in the body Kingdoms may divide,
As Nerves, Muscles, Veines, and Arteries wide.
The head, and heart, East and West Indies be,
Which through the veines may traffick, as the sea:
In feavers great by shipwrack many dyes;
For when the bloud is hot, and vapours rise
On boyling pulse, as waves they tosse, if hit
Against hard rock of great obstructions, split.
Head the East Indies, where spicy Fancie growes,
From Oranges and Lemons sharp Satyr flowes;
The Heart the West, where heat the bloud refines,
Which bloud is gold, and silver heart the mines.
Those from the head in ships their Spice they fetch,
And from the heart the gold and silver rich.

The War of those Spirits.

SOmetimes these Animal Creatures they doe jarre,
And then those Kingdomes all are up in war,
[Page 165] And when they fight we Cramps, Convulsions feele,
[...] in our [...], and Chilblaines in our heele.

Peace.

WHen there is peace, and all do well agree,
Then is Commerce in every Kingdome free,
And through the Nerves they travell without feare,
There are no Theeves to rob them of their ware.
Their wares are severall touches which they bring
Unto the Senses, they buy every thing.
But to the Muscles they doe much recourse,
For in those Kingdomes trading hath great force.
Those Kingdomes joyne by two, and two,
So they with [...] doe passe, and re-passe through.

The description of their world, which is the Body.

THe Arteries are the Ocean deep, and wide,
The Bloud the Sea which ebbs, and flows in Tide:
The Nerves great continent they travell through,
Muscles are Cities, which they traffick to.

Similizing the Body to many Countries.

THe Nerves are France, and Italy, and Spaine,
The Liver Britanny, the Narrow Seas, the veines,
The Spleen is Aethiopia, which breeds in
A People that are black, and tawny skin.
The Stomach Aegypt, the Chylus Nyle, that flowes
Quite through the Body, by which it fruitfull growes.
The Heart, and Head, East, and VVest Indies are,
The South, and Northern Pole is either Eare.
The Lungs are Rocks, and Cavernes, whence rise winds,
And Life which passes through great danger findes.
FINIS.

An Epistle to Souldiers.

GReat Heroicks, you may justly laugh at me, if I went about to censure, instruct, or advise in the valiant Art, and Discipline of Warre. But I doe but only take the name, having no knowledge in the Art, nor practise in the use; for I never saw an Army together, nor any Incounters in my life. I have seen a Troop, or a Regiment march on the High way by chance, or so; neither have I the courage to looke on the cruell assaults, that Mankind (as I have heard) will make at each other; but according to the constitution of my Sex, I am as fearefull as a Hare: for I shall start at the noyse of a Potgun, and shut my eyes at the sight of a bloudy Sword, and run away at the least Alarum. Only My courage is, I can heare asad relation, but not without griefe, and chilnesse of spirits: but these Armies I menti­on, were rais'd in my braine, fought in my fancy, and registred in my closet.

POEMS.

The Fort, or Castle of Hope.

HOpe hearing Doubt an Army great did bring,
For to assault the Castle she was in;
For her defence, her Castle she made strong,
Placing great Ordnance on the wall along.
Bulwarks she built at every corners end,
A Curtaine of twelve score was drawn between
Two faces make a point, from whence the Cannons play,
When [...] are shot from each corner, they make [...] triangular point upon the [...].
Two points do make a third, to stop the enemi's way.
The wings were not too short, nor curtains were too long,
The points were not too sharp, but blunt to make them strong.
Round the Castle, enemy's out to keep,
A ditch was digg'd, which was both wide and deep;
And bridges made to draw, or let at length,
The gates had iron bars of wondrous strength:
Souldiers upon the Curtains-line did stand,
And every one a Musket in his hand.
When Hope had ordered all about her Fort,
Then she did call a councel to her Court.
I hear sayes Hope, that Doubt a war will make,
And bring great force this Castle for to take;
Wherefore my friends, provisions must be [...],
And first of all good store of victuals bought;
Hunger doth lose more Forts, then force doth win,
Then must we with the stomach first begin.
The next is arms, the body for to guard,
Those that unarm'd are, are soon'st afear'd.
But to small use, we make a ditch, or wall,
If not men arm'd to keep this wall withall.
[Page 170] Shall we neglect the lives, and strength of men,
More then a wall, that may be broken in?
For Ammunitions, that mighty power,
Engines of death, which Armies, Towns devoure,
Yet are they of no use, unlesse mankind
Hath strength, skill, will, to use them, as design'd;
The last for to advise, what wayes are best,
For to defend our selves from being opprest.
Then Expectation being gray with age,
Advises Hope by no means to engage
Too [...] her Castle, but let that be free,
Draw [...] a Line about the Towne, said she:
There make some works, Souldiers intrench therein,
Let not the wars close at your gates begin.
With that, Desire, although young, did speak,
Alas, said she, Doubt will that small line take.
So great a compasse will your strength divide,
A body weak may break through any side.
Besides, the souldiers will more [...] be,
When they a rescue strong behinde them see.
But in the Castle, where lyes all their good,
There they will fight to the last drop of blood.

Doubts Assault, and Hopes Defence.

A Boutthe Fort of Hope, Doubt intrenched lay,
Stopt all provisions that should [...] that way;
They dig forth earth, to raise up rampiers high,
Against Hopes Curtains did their Cannon lye.
The Line being long, it seem'd the weakest place,
Or else to batter down the frontiers face.
There Pioniers did dig a Mine to spring,
Balls and Granadoes in the Fort did [...];
Rams they did place, to beat their walls down flat,
And many other Engines, as good as that.
But as Doubt breaches made in any part,
Streight Hopes industry soon [...] with art;
Yet Doubt did resolve fierce assaults to make,
And setting Ladders up, the Fort to take.
When Hope perceiv'd, great stones and weights down flung,
[Page 171] Which many kill'd, as they on Ladders hung:
Many did fall, and in the ditch did lye,
But then fresh men did streight their place supply.
Upon the walls of Hope many lay dead,
And those that fought, did on their bodies tread.
Thus various Fortune on each side did fall,
And Death was onely Conqueror of all.

A Battle between Courage, and Prudence.

Courage against Prudence a War did make,
For Rashnesse, her foe, his favourites sake.
Rashnesse against Queen Prudence had a spight,
And did perswade great Courage for to fight.
Courage did raise an army vast and great,
That for the numbers Tamberlaine might beat;
Cloath'd all in [...] coats, which made a shew.
Vanity.
And tossing Feathers which their pride did blow;
Pride.
Such fiery horses men could hardly weild,
Ambition.
And in this Equipage they took the field.
Loud noise of this great Army every where,
Fame.
Untill at last it came to [...] [...].
Prudence a Councel call'd of all the wise,
Aged Experience for her to advise;
Industry was call'd, which close did wait,
And orders had to raise an Army streight.
But out alas, her Kingdome was so small,
That scarce an Army could be rais'd of all.
At last they did about ten thousand get,
Then Care imployed was, them arms to [...];
Discipline trayn'd, and taught each severall man,
How they should move, and in what posture stand.
Great store of victualls Prudence did provide,
And Ammunition of all sorts beside.
The Foot were cloth'd, though course, in warm array,
Their wages small, yet had they constant pay.
Well armed they were all Breast, Back, and Pot,
Not for to tire them, but to keep out shot.
Each had their Muskets, Pikes, and Banners right,
That nothing might be wanting when they fight.
The Cavalry all arm'd as in a Frock
[Page 172] Gauntlet and Pistols, and some Fire-locks,
Swords by their sides, and at their Saddle bow
Hung Pole-axes to strike, and give a blow.
Horses, e'ne such, as pamper'd in a Stable,
But from the Plow, which were both strong and able
To make a long March, or endure a shock,
That quietly will stand firme, as a rock;
Nor start, although the Guns shoot in their face,
But as they're guided, goe from place to place.
Prudence for man, and Horse she did provide,
Physitians, Surgeons, Farriers, Smiths beside,
Wagons, and Carts, all Luggages to beare,
That none might want, when in the Field they were.
Strict order she did give to every one,
For feare that by mistake they should doe wrong.
And as they marcht, Scouts every way did goe,
To bring Intelligence where lay the Foe.
And when the Army staid some rest to take,
Prudence had care what Sentinels to make,
Men that were watchfull, full of industry,
Not such as are debaucht, or lazie, lye.
For Armies oft by negligence are lost,
Which had they fought, might of their valour boast.
But Prudence, She with care still had an eye,
That every one had Match, and Powder by.
Besides through a wise care, though not afraid,
She alwayes lay intrenched where She stay'd.
At last the Armies both drew neare in sight,
Then both began to order for the fight.
Courage his Army was so vast, and great,
As they did scorne the others when they met.
Courage did many a scornful message send,
But Prudence still made Patience by her stand.
Prudence call'd to Doubt, to aske his advise,
But in his answers he was very nice;
Hope, of that Army great, She made but light,
Perswaded Prudence by any meanes to fight;
For why, said Hope, they doe us so despise,
That they grow carelesse, error blindes their eyes.
Whereby we may such great advantage make,
[Page 173] As we may win, and many prisoners take.
Then Prudence set her Army in array,
Chusing their Roman custome, and their way.
In bodies small her Army she did part,
In Mollops, which was done with care and Art:
Ten on a rank, and seven file deep they were,
Between each part, a lane of ground lay bare,
For single, and loose men, about to run,
To skirmish first, before the fight begun.
The Battle order'd, in three parts was set,
The next supplyes, when the first part is beat.
Then Prudence rode about, from rank to rank,
Taking great care to strengthen well the flanke.
Prudence the Van did lead, Hope the right wing,
Patience the left, and Doubt the reare did bring.
The other Army fiercely up did ride,
As thinking presently them to divide.
But they were much deceiv'd, for when they met,
They saw an Army small, whose force was great;
Then did they fight, where Courage bore up high,
For though the worst he had, he scorn'd to fly.

A Description of the Battle in Fight.

SOme with Sharp Swords, to tell, O most accurst,
Were above halfe into the bodies thrust:
From whence frèsh streams of bloud run all along
Unto the Hilts, and there lay clodded on.
Some, their Leggs hang dangling by the Nervouse strings,
And Shoulders cut, hung loose, like flying wings.
Here heads are cleft in two parts, braines lye masht,
And all their faces into slices hasht.
Braines only in the Pia Mater thin,
Which quivering lyes within that little skin:
Their Sculls all broke, and into peeces burst,
By Horses hoofes, and Chariot wheeles, to dust.
Others, their owne heads lyes on their owne laps,
And Some againe, halfe cut, lyes on their Paps;
Whose Tongues out of their mouthes are thrust at length;
[Page 174] For why, the strings are cut that gave them strength.
Their eyes do stare, the lids wide open set,
The little Nerves being shrunk, they cannot shut.
And Some again, those glassie bals hangs by,
Small slender Strings, as Chains to tye the Eye.
Those Strings, when broke, Eyes fall, which trundling roun,
Untill the filme is broke upon the ground.
In death, their teeth strong Set, their lips left bare,
Which grinning seems, as if they angry were.
Their Hairs upon their Eyes in clodded gore,
Or wildly Spreads, as not in life they wore;
With frowns their Fore-heads in deep surrows lye,
As Graves their Foes to bury when they dye;
Heaving up Spongy lungs through pangs of death,
With pain and difficulty fetcht short breath.
Some grasping hard, their hands through pain provok'd,
For why, the ratling flegme their throats do choak.
Their bodies bowing up, then downe they fall,
For want of strength to make them stand withall.
Some Staggering on their legs do feebly stand,
Or leaning on their Sword with either hand,
Where on the Pummel doth their breast rely,
More griev'd they cannot fight, then for to dye.
Their hollow eyes sunke deep into their brains,
And hard fetcht groans from every heart-String strains.
Their knees pull'd up, to keep their bowels in;
But all too little through their blood doth swim:
And Guts like Sausages their bodies twine,
Or like the Spreading plant, or wreathing vine.
Their restlesseheads, not knowing how to lye,
Through grievous paines do quickly wish to dye.
Rowling from off their back upon their belly,
Tumbling in their blood as thick as gelly.
And gasping lye with short breaths, and constraint,
With cold Sweat drops upon their faces saint.
Then heaving up their dull, pale eye-balls, looke,
As if through paine, not hate the world forsook.
Some [...] cold, as Shivering Agues are;
Some burning hot, as in high Feavers were.
Spewing of blood from Stomacks that are sick,
[Page 175] Through parching heats their tongues to'th' roofs do stick.
With loud groans, [...] call'd their Soules back,
While Smarting wounds did set them on the wrack;
And on their Arms their faces lay a-crosse,
As if in death they were asham'd of losse.
Some, dying like a flame, whose oyle is spent,
Or fire smother'd out which wanteth vent.
And Some do fall like Strong, and hardy Oaks,
Which hewn down are with fierce and cruell Stroaks;
Their [...] chop'd small, as wood for fire to burn,
Or carved, or chipt out for Joyners turne.
Some underneath their horses belltes flung,
Some by the heels in their own Stirrups hung;
Others their heads, and neck lay all awry,
And on their horses manes, as pillows, lye.
Some in a carelesse garb lye on the ground,
As life despis'd, since Honour in death's found.
Some for death do call, some life desire,
Some care not, others burial require.
Some beat their breasts, as evill they had done,
Others in fiery hot revenge do burn.
Some lay, as if to hear the Trumpet sound,
And others lay, as sprawling on the ground.
Some wish'd their deaths revenge upon their foe,
Others with dying eyes their friends not know.
Some their parents, children cry'd, to see,
Others wish'd life, some difference to agree.
But Lovers with à soft and panting heart,
Did wish their Mistris at their last depart,
To shut their eyes, and wounds to close,
Whose dying Spirits to their Mistris goes.
Foes Hands into each others wounds thrust wide,
As if their hearts would pull out from each side;
VVhere friends in dear imbracements are close twin'd
By their affection strong, in death they are joyn'd.
Some wish'd to live, yet long for death through paine,
Others dye grieving that their foe's not slain.
Or else repent, what they so rash have done,
And wish the Battle were to be begun.
Some gently Sinking, so by fainting fall,
[Page 176] And quietly do yeeld, when Death them call.
Some drunk with death, not able are to stand,
And reeling fall, struck down by deaths cold hand.
Some [...] long, as lovers when part must,
Others, as willing yeeld to Fate, their dust,
And sweetly lies, as if asleep in night;
Some sterne, as if new battles were to fight.
Some softly murmuring like a bubling stream,
Yet sweetly smile in death, as in a dream.
Whose soules with soft-breath'd sighs to heaven flye,
To live with gods above the starry skie.
Thus severall noyses through the aire do ring,
And severall postures Death to men doth bring.
Where some do dye out-ragious in despaire,
Others so gentle, as appears no fear.
With heaps of bodies, hills up high are growne,
Where haire as grasse, and teeth, as seed are sown:
Their head, and heels, horsemen together lay,
Smother'd to death which could not get away.
Their arms lay hack'd, and all were thrown about,
And Targets full of holes, that kept death out;
Their Flags flying, like moving woods did show,
Various colours seem'd on their tops to grow,
As if flowers had sprouted from trees high,
Or strew'd about, did in the clouds so lye.
Now all are fallen, and into [...] [...],
Their mottoes raz'd that did their sides adorn
Yet some as winding sheets their bearers shrou'd,
Which was an Honour fit to make Death proud.
Some like Virgins, that cast their eyes down low
Through shamefastnesse, although no fault they know,
Nor guilty are, but overcome with strength,
Though not consenting, yet is forc'd at length;
As Chastity, so courage forc'd we sinde,
To lay down Arms though sore against their minde.
Here [...], [...], [...], Saddles thrown,
Flags, Pikes, Drums, Guns, Bullets, all o're strown;
Plumes of Feathers, which waved with the wind,
And proudly tost, like to some haughty mind.
Like to prosperity when over-born,
[Page 177] Now humbly lyes, where they are trodden on.
Horses praunce proudly, when they backed were,
By men of courage, never knowing fear;
If they are over-powred by strong assault,
And lost by strength, was not their courage fault;
For they on deaths dull face could boldly stare,
Since life should hate, if not victorious were.
Dead horses lye on backs, their heels up flung,
Eyes sunke, their heads lye turn'd, their jaws down hung.
Their thick curl'd Manes, which grew down to the ground,
Or by their Master in fine Ribbans bound.
Was torn halfe off, or sing'd by fire from Guns,
Or snarl'd in knots, or clods that backward runs;
Their nostrils wide, from whence thick smoak out-went
Which from their hot slout hearts that vapour sent;
Their sleek bright hair, on skin like coats of Mayle,
Their courage sierce, that nothing could them quaile;
All in death lay, by Fortune they were cast,
And Nature to new formes goes on in hast;
For neither beauty, strength, or nimble feet,
Could serve in death, all beasts alike there meet,
In severall postures, horse and men thus lyes,
With severall pains, in severall places [...]
VVhen horses dye, they know no reason why,
VVhere men do venture life, for vain-glory.
Smoak from their bloods into red clouds did rise,
VVhich flasht like lightning in the livings eyes,
Their groans into the middle region went,
Ecchoes in the Aire like Thunder rent;
Winds rarified, sighs such gusts did blow,
As if ascended from the shades below.
Men strives to dye, to make their names to live,
VVhen gods, no certainty to Fame will give.

A Battle between Honour and Dishonour.

WIth grief and sorrow Honour did complain,
How that her sons and servants all are slaine:
Now none are left, but those that do her sleight,
Open rebellion doth against her fight.
Besides, this Age doth dirt upon her throw,
For fe ar the next, she should her basenesse show.
Thus mourneth Honour, veyl'd in clouds of night,
When heretofore her garments were of Light.
Her Crown was Laurel wreath'd with Fancies tire,
Her Scepter Mars's sword made Foes retire.
Pallas her head-peece as her footstool stands,
By which support she rises, and commands;
And thus did Honour live, with great applause,
All did obey her, none did break her laws.
But now Dishonour arm'd gainst her doth rise,
And all her laws she utterly denics.
Then Honour fearing she should be surpris'd,
And by her counsel being well advis'd;
Did raise an Army to maintain her right,
Resolv'd she was, Dishonour for to fight.
Courage the Van did lead, Fidelity the Rear,
The Lest-wing, and the Right, Wisdom, and Wit they were,
The Artillery, Invention doth command,
Constancy and Patience, Sentinels stand.
Sciences, are Pioniers of great skill,
Which undermine Towns, Castles when they will;
And Trenches make, Souldiers t'in safety sleep,
There for a guard a watchfull eye do keep.
Arts, Dragoons, which serve on Foot, and Horse,
To skirmish, or an Enemy inforce.
Resolution, the Colours high doth bear,
And with the Bag and Baggage standeth Care.
Prutlence, Quarter-master, allots them place,
Who disobeys, is punish'd with disgrace.
Industry, Purveyer which provides the meat,
And Temperance, proportions what they eat.
Truth, Scout-master intelligence to give,
[Page 179] By which the Army doth in safety live.
The Drum is faith, with reasons braced arc,
The sticks that beat thereon, are Hope, and Feare.
Trumpeters, Oratours sound loud, and cleare,
Doe call to Horse, when th' enemy is neare.
Gratitude, Treasurer, the Army to pay,
Generosity, Generall, leads the way.
When this Army was in Battalia set,
Dishonour, with her Army neare did get,
Partiality did lead the Van awry,
And Treachery the Rear, which came not nigh.
Perjury the left wing ordered that day,
unthankfulnesse the right, did beare the sway.
Suspition was the Scout, to search the way,
And Envie close in Ambuscado lay.
Revenge as Canoneer, which took the Aimc,
But mist the Mark, which made him high exclaime;
Envie, and Malice, were two Engineers,
Subtilty, had Practised many yeares,
Their Drum is Ignorance, where they beat,
Obstinacy, stupidity thereupon treat,
And brac'd it is with Rudenesse which is harsh,
On strings of Wilfulnesse, which is ever rash.

A Battle between King Oberon, and the Pygmees.

KIng Oberon, and the Pigmees tall, and stout,
Did goe to War, the cause was just no doubt;
For Pigmee King, out of his Kingdome brought
His people all, another Kingdome sought.
Like Goths and Vandals, they did range about,
With force full strong, to finde another out;
At last into the Fairy Land they went,
For to that at fettile place their hearts were bent.
This is the place, said they, where pleasure [...],
And like to flowers on banks, where delight growes;
Here let us pitch, and try if Fortune will
Joyne with our Courage, that our Foes may kill.
[Page 180] Then on they went, and plundered every where,
The Fairies all ran crying in great feare;
And fire on all their Beacons placed high,
Which warning is to give, when dangers nigh.
[...] King Oberon then a war prepar'd,
Which made his Queen, and all his Court afraid;
His Counsell grave and wise, did to him call,
Which came with formall busie faces all:
Where every one did speake their minde full free,
Disputiug this, and that, at last agree.
In War, said they, 'tis better that we dye,
Then to be slaves unto our enemy.
Then said the King, an Army we must raise,
In which [...] dye, said he, or win the Bayes:
Straight Officers of all degrees were made,
To lead, and rule, in courage, and perswade.
Thus did they muster, and arme all their stout,
To meet their Enemy, and beat them out.
Well arm'd they were, and put in good array,
Which made them fight with courage all that day.
Their Trumpets were made of small silver [...],
Calling the Horse to charge, or to retire:
These Horses for War, were Grashoppers large,
On which they did ride, and bravely discharge,
And Saddles were of a velvet Peach-skin,
Their Bridles small strings, that Spiders doe spin,
And Stirrops, in which they put their feet in,
Was made of a Rush, just round like a Ring.
Of small Cockle-shels their Targets were made,
And for their long Swords a Rosemary blade.
Their Flags colour'd flowers, glorious to see,
Give severall sweet smels, when flying they be.
And how they were arm'd, it well did appear,
In a Beanes [...], just like a Curaseer.
Their Guns were slender small Pipes of Glasse,
And Bullets round, of Seeds to shout, there was.
Their Drums of Filbeard skins were very strong,
And wheaten [...], for sticks to beat thereon.
Their Vans, their Rears, their left Wing, and their Right,
Were placed so, as they saw good to fight.
[Page 181] Their Colours flying, and their Drums did beat,
Their Trumpets [...], none sought a retreat.
The files, and formes, the [...] plac'd themselves
Was like in figure, unto Muscle-shels,
To peirce through [...], give way to friends,
The midst being broad, and sharp at the two ends.
But Fairies like a halfe Moon [...], which know,
When each end meet, incircle all their [...]
Where in the midst King [...] rid full brave,
And he the honour of this day shall have.
Thus this Warrior in armour bright and strong,
As for-most man, did lead his men along.
Then spake He to them in a temper meek,
These enemies, said he, our [...] seek;
Goe on all you brave borne, and Valiant bred,
And fight your enemy, till they be dead;
Let not your foes with scorne upbraid [...] flight,
But let them see, with courage you can fight,
And teach them what their [...] [...] hath brought
Upon themselves, when they this Kingdome sought.
But O Vaine Princes, that for glory seek,
Which will not let poore subjects in peace [...]:
Foolish Ambition sets the world on [...],
Which ruines all to compasse its desire:
I only fight to keep what is my owne,
And not to rob another Kingly throme.
But if this quarrell ill, decide I can't,
I'le fight my enemy then hand to hand.
With that he sent an Herauld stout and bold,
Which to King Pygmee he this message told:
VVho said, King Oberon him a challenge sent,
To save their Men, and much bloud to prevent;
That only their two persons fight alone,
And let the Armies both the while look on.
Then laughes the Pygmee, what's your King, said he,
That in a Duel hopes to conquet me?
I came not here a single strength to try,
A Kingdome for to win, or else to dye.
I prouder am, my Subjects strength to show,
Where by direction they my skill may know.
[Page 182] Herauld, goe back, and tell your King from me,
He'l know my Strength, when Prisoner he shall be.
Then spake he to his Men in voyce full high,
Here's none said he, I hope, this day will fly;
You know, my Souldiers, we came here to fight,
Not from ambition, or of envies spight;
For we by famine were with me agre face,
Here sent about to seek a fertile place.
Then here's a faud, which needs not be manur'd,
And we a people, not to work inur'd:
For we by Nature can no great paines take,
Nor by our sweat a live-lihood out make:
For who would live in paine, or griefe, or care,
And alwayes of their goods to stand in feare?
Who lives in trouble are not very wise,
Since in the Grave no troubles there doe [...].
Then let us fight, even for sweet pleasures sake,
Or let us dye, that we no care may take.
Thus did the Kings their Souldiers courage raise,
And in Orations did their Valour praise.
Then did they both in order, rank, and file,
Prepare themselves, each other for to spoyle.
Their Horses stout, whereon they ride in field,
Will dye under their burthen, but not yeeld.
In Caprioles those Grashoppers do move,
By which his Riders skill he soone will prove.
Some think for War, it is an Aire unfit,
With whose swift motion his Rider cannot fight,
[...] take his turnes, and vantages to have,
Unlesse by leaping high themselves can save.
Erroneous this, in some case it is good,
Though not in all, if truly understood:
What's in the world that's to all use imployed,
But at some times and seasons is denied?
Fire, and Water, the life of all which are,
Can only serve in their due time and call.
Some may say in this Aire of Horsemanship
'Tis good, hils of dead men to over-leap:
For if that they goe low upon the ground,
Where dead men, horse, and armes are strewed round:
[Page 183] Or else in heaps they lye, like to a wall,
Whereat the Horse will [...], Man downe fall.
Thus Horses of manage, taught in measure,
Many doe think are only fit for pleasure,
And not for war; but no use of them is,
As though their Rules did make them goe amisse.
They are mistaken, for like men they're taught,
For to obey their Guider as they ought.
To stop, to goe, to leap, to run, and yet
Obey the heele, the hand, the wand, the bit.
Beside, they're taught their passion to abate,
Not resty be, with feare, anger, or hate;
And by applause, great courage they have got,
That they dare goe upon a Canon shot,
Not that they senslesse be, or dangers on run,
For Horses cowardly, danger doe shun,
And are so full of feares as they will shake,
And will not goe, which proves their hearts do quake.
Besides, all Aires in Warre are very fit,
As Curvets, Dimivoltoes, and Perwieet:
In going back, and forward, turning round,
Side-wayes, both high and low upon the ground.
Sometimes in a large circle, compasse take,
And then with Art, a lesser circle make.
But Horses that [...] are in this way,
May march strait forth, or in one place may stay.
So men, when they doe fight, having no skill,
May venture life, but few that they shall kill.
For'tis not blowes, and thrusts shall doe the feat,
Or going forward, or by a retreat:
He must the center be, his sword the line,
His feet his compasse, with his strength to joyne.
These are the Arts for Horse, and Men of War,
Unlesse with stratagems they think to scar:
VVhich shewes more wit then courage in the field,
So 'tis to run away, or else to yeeld.
But here the Bodies of each Army's knit
So close, as skin unto the flesh doe fit:
No stratagems us'd to have men slaine,
But they did fight upon an open Plaine.
[Page 184] For those that use slight stratagems in warres,
No sighters are, but cruell Murtherers.
Nor is it bravely done, as some think 'tis,
For every petty Thiefe, has skill in this.
Poore Theeves, more courage in their acts doe show,
For if their plots doe faile, must dye they know.
Warriors designes found out, they doe not care,
Because no hanging for that act they feare;
They'l say, 'tis different thus enemies to use,
For Theeves by their deceit their friends abuse.
But 'tis not so, for cous̄enage is the theìf,
And of that Order, Generals are the chief:
Fighting's the Souldiers trade, not to intrap,
N̄or foxing with craft, a prey for to inwrap,
But kill, or pursue, with Swords in [...] hands,
Without any sraud, or treacherous bands.
Just so fought these brave valiant Cavaliers,
By the unhappy end, as it appears:
For they did joyne, and fierce together fight,
Which was to all, a lamentable sight.
Some lay upon the ground, without a Head,
Others that gasping lay, but not quite dead:
Their groans were heard, and cryes of severall Notes,
Some rutling lay, with thick bloud in their throates:
Here a Head-peice lay, there a Corslet throwne,
Bodies so mangled, that none could be known.
Rivers of bloud like to a full high tide,
Or like a Sea, where shipwrack'd bodies dy'd:
And their laborious breath such mists did raise,
Which made a cloud, as darkned the Sunsraies.
With severall noyses that rebounded sar,
Armies of Ecchoes in the aire were.
Here bodies hid with smoake, smother'd, lay dead,
While formlesse sounds, were in the aire spread.
Thus were they active, and earnest in their fight,
As if to kill, or dye, were a delight.
Here beasts and men, both in their bloud lay masht,
As if that a French Cook had them [...], so hasht,
Or with their bloud a Gelly boyle,
To make a Boullion of the spoyle,
[Page 185] For Natures table several disbes' brings,
By her directions in transforming things:
At last the Pigmees found themselves quite spent,
And of their war begun now to repent,
Which made their King, though little, yet at length,
Did call to Oberon King to try his strength;
Let's here, said he, our skill and fortunes try,
In conquering one, or both in graves to lye.
Content, said Oberon King, though most unjust
You have your selfe into my Kingdome thrust.
Yet will I not refuse this offer bold,
And if I live this day will sacred hold.
Then like two Lions fallen out for prey,
Encounter did, not yeelding any way.
Their bright sharp swords, so quick with motion fiyes,
Like suhtle lightning in each others eyes.
Pigmee King was strong, be two handfuls tall,
But Oberon King was low, and very small.
Yet was he dextrous in his skilful Art,
And by that means struck Pigmee neer the heart,
Whose blood run warm, and trickling down his side,
That where he stood, the grasse was purple dy'd.
Then leaning on his sword, as out of breath,
Said he to Oberon, I have got my death,
Grew faint, then sinking on the ground did lye,
Finding his soul from's body soon would flye;
Saying to Oberon, do you mercy shew,
And let my Army freely from you go.
And those that here lye slain, O let them have
Just rights in burial, and their bones in grave;
That their free souls in quiet peace may sleep,
And for this Act the gods your Fame will [...].
I care, nor grieve not for my own sad [...],
But for my subjects that are ruin'd all.
And in a deep-fetcht sigh, and [...] [...],
His Soul went forth unto a [...] unknown.
When that his souldiers heard their King [...] dead,
Their hearts did fail, yet none of them there fled;
But to him run like shuttles in a loom,
And with their bodies did his Corps intomb.
[Page 186] For through their loyall breast did dig their grave,
Because their King a [...] should have;
So all did dye, no story yet [...] shown,
Was ever any Pygmees after known;
Then did their wives with sighs [...] their falls,
And withtheir tears did strew their Funerals;
Those Tears did mix with blood upon the ground,
Where Rubies since hath in the Earth been found.
Their Bodies moist to Vapour rarified,
And now in Clouds do neer the Sun reside.
When they their grief unto remembrance call,
Those sullen clouds in shouring tears do fall.
Their sighs are winds that blow here and there,
And all their bodies transmigrated are.
unhappy battle to destroy a Race,
That on the earth deserv'd the chiefest place;
For they were valiant, and did love their King,
Without dispute obey'd in every thing.
Nature pittying to see their Fortune sad,
Who by her favour a remembrance had;
For she their bones did turn to Marble white,
Of which are Statues carv'd for Mans delight;
And in some places are as gods set up,
Idols that superstition doth worship.
There Oberon King a Temple builded high,
In which great Fortunes name did magnifie.

The Temple of Fortune.

THe Temple was built of Cornelian red,
To signifie that much blood there was shed.
Her Altars were carv'd from an Agget stone,
VVhere there were musk Flyes sacrificed on:
And Priest there is that sings her praises loud,
VVhereat the people [...] all in a croud.
For though she be blind, and cannot well see,
Yet she her hearing hath perfectly.
The Steeple was built of [...] [...] [...],
And carved finely with many a [...].
The Bels of Nightingales [...] ues which did ring,
[Page 187] As sweetly as in the Spring they do [...].
Their Holy fire is made of Sweet Spice,
And kept by [...] young, that know no Vice.
Their [...] sometimes they place in a Bower,
VVhich made is of a Gesamin Flower;
And all her sacred Groves, in which she walks,
Are set with Roses that grow's by the stalks.
Thus in Procession her about they bear,
[...] none, but in Devotion, cometh there.
The King and Queen, do wait where e're she go;
And all about sweet incense they do strew.
Nature frown'd to see her so respected,
And by these Honours done, she thought her self rejected.
Wherefore saith Nature, let me take the place,
And let not Fortune proud, me thus out-face;
When all that's good you do receive from me,
For she my Vassal low, you soon shall see.
For I with Vertues, do the Mind inspire,
And cloathes the Soul in beautifull attire.
The body equall makes, and very strong,
The Heart with Courage, to revcnge a wrong.
In brains, Invention, Wit, and Judgment lyes,
Creating like a god, orders as wise.
The Senses all, as perfectly are made,
To hear, to see, to taste, to touch, [...].
And in the Soule, Affections, Passions live,
There's, nothing done, but what my powers give,
All which to mutability I throw.
Who in perpetuall motion alwayes goe.
Thus all Invention from my power comes,
For Arts in men, are but by scraps and crumbs.
So Fate and Fortune, are my Handmaids sure,
For what they do, shall never long endure.
For I throughout the World do make things range,
And constant am in nothing, but in change.
Then let your worship to blind Fortune fall,
Or else shall my displeasure bury all.
But false devotion unto men is sweet,
VVhilst Truth's kickt out, and trodden under feet.
Their minds do ebbe and flow, just like the Tide,
[Page 188] And what is to be done, is cast aside.
This makes that men are never in the way,
But wander up and down like sheep astray;
Oh wretched man that cannot in peace be,
For with himselfe he cannot well agree.
Sometimes he hates, what he before approves,
But in a constant course he never moves.
Nor to himself, nor God that's good, can stay,
He ever seeking is some unknown way.
No sad example he by warning takes,
If none will do him hurt, some mischief makes;
As if he fear'd in happinesse to live;
And to himself a deadly wound will give.
But why do I complain, that Man is bad,
Since what he hath, or is, from me he had?
Not onely Man, the World, but Gods also,
And nothing greater then my self I know.
VVhich made them take high Fortune down,
And in her room, great Nature crown.

A Battle between Life and Death.

ACruel Battle is betwixt two Foes,
VVhen Nature will decide it, none yet knows;
These two are Life and Death, the world divide,
And whilst it lasts, the Cause will n'ere decide.
First, Life is active, seeking to enjoy,
And Death is envious, striving to destroy.
VVhen Life a curious peece of Work doth make,
And thinks therein some pleasure for to take;
Then in comes Death, with Rancour, and with spleen,
Destroyes it so, that nothing can be seen;
For fear her ruines, Beauty might present,
Leaves not so much, to makes Life's Monument.
This makes Life mourn, to see her pains, and cost
Destroy'd, for what she doth, in Death is lost.
VVeeping, complains at Natures crueltie,
That onely made her, for Deaths [...] to be.
I am his food, his sharp teeth doth me tear,
And when I [...], no pity hath, nor care.
[Page 189] The pain he puts me in, doth make me rore,
And his pale face that's grim, affrights me sore.
And when I think away from him to run,
Falls streight into his jaws, no wayes can shun.
But why do I thus sigh, lament, and mourn?
And try not means for to revenge my wrong.
I will call all my friends their strength to trye,
Either Ile perish quite, or Death shall dye.
Then brings she motion, nimble at each turn,
And Courages, that doth like Fire burn.
Preventing, and inventing wits, to make
Sconses and Forts, too strong for death to take.
A Regiment of Arts, defending with their skill,
And do assult her foes, and sometimes kill.
A Brigade of clear strengths, stand firm and sure,
VVhich can the assaults of Death endure.
A Party of perfect healths, arm'd so well,
As Death how to destroy them, cannot tell.
A Troop of Growths, at first, small, weak, and low,
Increasing every minute, numbers grow.
And many more Companies hath [...] there,
As all the Passions, chiefly Hope and Fear.
Love leads this Army, his motto a Heart,
Their Arms are their Free-Wils, all bear a part.
Deaths Army are all to destruction bent,
As Wars, and Famine, both these, Pestilent.
Fury, and Rage, Despair, that run about,
Seeking which way, that they may Life put out.
Troops, Regiments, Brigades, in numbers are,
As Sicknesse, Dulnesse, Griese, and Care;
And feeble Age, but few, nor scarce can stand,
Yet in Deaths battle, fight will hand to hand.
Hate leads the Army, in a dull slow pace,
And for his Motto, has, a lean, pale fare.
With severall weapons, Death poor Life doth take
Her as a prisoner, and his slave doth make.
And on her Ashes doth in triumph ride,
And by his Conquest; swels he big with pride.
Lifes force was strong enough, to keep her state,
[Page 190] If Death, befriended had not been by Fate.
She against Death could make her party good,
Had not the Fates her happinesse withstood.
Who spins the thread of life, so small and weak,
That of necessity it needs must break.
If not, they cut it into peeces small,
And give it Death, to make him nets withall;
To catch in Life, when closely she would hide
Her selfe from Death, but in this net is ty'd.
Or in the Chains of Destiny is hung,
The world from side, to side, about is flung;
Having no rest, nor settlement, but flyes
About from Death, and yet it never dyes;
Runs into severall forms, Death for to shun,
But he destroyes these Forms, that Life in comes.
Death like a Snake, in Natures bosome lyes,
Like slattering friends, but yet in heart envies.
And Nature seems to Life an enemie,
Because she still lets Death a Conqueror be.

Of a Travelling Thought.

AThought, for breeding, would a Travellour be,
The severall Countries in the brain to see.
Spurr'd with Desires, and booted with Hope,
Cap't with curiosity, a patient cloake.
Thus suited, then a horse he did provide,
Strong imagination he got to ride,
Sadl'd with Ambition, and girted with pride.
Bridled with doubt, resolving stirrups on each side,
When he was mounted, fast away they went,
In a full gallop of a good intent.
Some wayes in the brain, very ill, there were,
Into deep errours, often tumbled th'are.
High mountains of great fear, was forc'd to hide,
Steep Precipices of Despair down slide.
Woods of forgetfulnesse, they oft past through,
To find the right way out, had much ado.
In troubles, he had travell'd a long way,
At last he came where Theeves of spight close lay.
[Page 191] Who coming forth, drew out reproachfull words,
Which wounded Reputation, as sharp swords;
When he did feel the wound to imart, drew out
From Time's Scabbard, Truth which fought full stout,
With an innocent thrust he left spight dead,
Wip'd off the bloud of slander purple red;
Coming to a river of Temptation,
Deep and dangerow of Tribulation.
With Temperance he swum, got out at last,
And with security all dangers past;
At last got to the City of power,
Whereon stood Tyranny, a great Tower.
With discords populous, there [...] rules,
Great Colledges there was to breed up fools.
Large houses of [...] high were built,
And all with prodigality were gilt;
Their streets were pitcht with dull and lazy stone,
Which never hurts the feet when trodden on.
Markets of plentiful circuits were there,
VVhere all sorts did come, and buy without care,
Herbs of repentance there were in great [...],
But roots of ignorance were many more.
Carts of knowledge brought much provisions in,
Some understanding bought, which truth did bring:
Yet what is bought proves good, or bad by chance,
For some were couzen'd by false ignorance.
Then forthwith into shamble row he went,
Where store of meat hung up, for 'twas not Lent;
There lay head with wit, and Fancies fil'd,
And hearts were there, which griefe and sorrow kill'd;
Tongues of Eloquence hung upon an Ear,
Bladders blown with windy opinions there:
Weak Livers of great fear, lay there to sell,
And malice, spleens, which very big did swell.
Tough lungs of wilsulnesse, hard and dry;
Whole guts of self-conceit did hang thereby.
Into a Poulterers shop he [...] to see
What fowl there were, if any good there be.
There lay wild Geese, though black and heavy meat,
Yet some grosse appetite lik'd them to eat.
[Page 192] The cholerick Turkey, and the Peacocks pride,
The foolish dotterels lay there close beside.
Capons of Expectation, cram'd with hope,
Swans of large desires, lay in the shop.
Reproachfull words were sold by dozens there,
And ignorant Guls lay every where.
Poêtical Birds were many to sell,
More Fowl, which he remembred not to tell;
But being a Travellour, would see all there,
So straight he went to Churches of great fear;
Where every one kneel'd upon the knee of pain,
And prayers said with tongues that were propbane,
Petitioning tears drop'd from coveting eyes,
Deceitfull hearts on Altars of disguise.
Earnest they were to gods, that they would give
Worldly request, not grace for souls to live;
But travailes of Experience he would see,
VVhich made him go to the Court of Vanity.
The Porter, Flattery sate at the Gate,
VVho civill was, and carried him in strait.
First to the Presence-chamber of Beauty went,
There staid some time, with great, and sweet content.
Next to the Privy-chamber of Discourse,
VVhere Ignorance, and Non-sense had great force.
Then to the Bed-chamber [...] Loves delights,
The Grooms which served there, were Carpet Knights.
From thence to Counsel of Direction went,
VVhere great Disorder sate as President.
No sooner that poor stranger he did view,
Reproachful words out of his mouth he threw;
Commanding Poverty, a Serjeant poor,
To take that stranger, cast him out of door.
Strait Flattery for him intreated much,
But he Disorders ear doth seldome touch.
For cast he was into necessity,
VVhich is a prison of great misery.
But Patience got him an expedient Passe,
So home he went, but [...] upon an Asse.

A REGISTER OF MOVRNFVLL VERSES.

On a Melting Beauty.

GOing into a Church my prayers to say,
Close by a Tombe a mourning Beauty lay.
Her knees on Marble cold were bow'd down low,
So firme were fix'd, as if she there did grow.
Her Elbow on the Tombe did steady stand,
Her Head hung back, the hind-part in her hand,
Turning her Eyes up to the Heavens high,
Left nothing but the white of either eye.
Upon the lower shut
The under lid.
did hang a teare,
Like to a Diamond pendent in an eare.
Her Breast did pant, as if Life meant
To seek her Heart, which way it went.
I standing there, observing what she did,
At last she from her hand did raise her head:
And casting down her eyes, ne're look'd about,
Teares pull her eye-lids down, as they gush'd out,
And with a gentle Groane at last did speake,
Her words were soft, her voyce sound low, and weak.
O Heavens (said she) what doe you meane,
I dare not think you Gods can have a spleen,
And yet I finde great torments you doe give,
Creatures to make in misery to live.
You shew us Joyes, but we possesse not one,
You give us Life, for Death to feed upon.
O cruell Death, thy Dart hath made me poore,
You struck that Heart my Life did most adore.
You Gods, delight not thus me to torment,
But strike me dead by this deare Monument:
[Page 192] And let our Ashes mixe both in this urne;
So as one Phoenix shall we both become.
Hearing her mourne, I went to give reliefe;
But, Oh alas, her eares were stopt with griefe.
When I came neere, her bloud congeal'd to Ice,
And all her Body changed in a trice;
That Ice strait melted into tears, down run
Through porous earth: so got into that urne.

On a Furious Sorrow.

VPon a Grave out-ragious Sorrow set,
Digging the Earth, as if she through would get.
Her hair unty'd, loose on her shoulders hung,
And every haire with teares, like Beads, was strung.
And when those tears did fail with their owne weight,
With new-borne tears supplyed their places strait.
She held a [...], secm'd with courage bold,
Griese bid her strike, but Feare did bid her hold;
Impatience rays'd her voyce, and shricking shrill,
Which sounded like a Trumpet on a hill.
Her face was flickt, like Marble streak'd with red,
Caus'd by Griefes vapours flying to her head.
Her bosome bare, her garments loose, and wide,
And in this posture lay by Deaths cold side.
By chance a man, who had a fluent tongue,
Came walking by, seeing her lye along,
Pittying her sad condition, and her griefe,
Did straine by Rhethorisks help to give reliefe.
Why doe you mourne, said he, and thus complaine,
Since grief wil neither Death, nor Gods restraine?
When they at first all Creatures did create,
And gave them life, to death predestinate.
Your sorrow cannot alter their [...],
Nor call back life by your impatiency.
Nor can the dead from Love receive a beat,
Nor heares the sound of lamentations great.
For Death is stupid, being numb'd and cold,
No eares to heare, nor eyes for to behold.
Then mourn no more, since you no help can give,
[Page 193] Take pleasure in your Beauty, whiles you live,
For, in the fairest, Nature pleasure takes.
But if you dye, then Death his triumph makes.
At last his words like Keyes unlock'd her eares,
And then she strait considers what she heares.
Pardon, you Gods, (said she) my murmuring crime,
My griefe shall ne're dispute your Will Divine:
And in sweet life will I take most delight:
And so went home with that fond Carpet-Knight.

On a Mourning Beauty.

VPon the Hill of Melancholy sate
A Mourning Beauty; but no word she spake.
Silent as Night, where no Articulate noyse
Did once rise up, shut close from light of joyes;
Only a wind of Sighs, which doth arise
From the deep Cave, the Heart, wherein those lyes.
Saa'nesse, as a Vaile, over her face was flung;
Sorrow a Mantle black about her hung.
Her leaning Head upon her hand did rest,
The other hand was laid upon the Breast.
Her Eyes did humble bow towards the ground,
The Earth the object in her Eyes quite drown'd.
From her soft Heart a spring of tears did rise,
Which run from the two fountaines of her eyes:
And where those Showers fell, Flowers up sprung,
No comfort give, their Heads, for griefe down hung.
Yet did the Stars shine bright, as Tapers by,
Shadows of light did sit as Mourners nigh.
At last the Gods did pitty her sad Fate,
Her to a shining Comet did translate.

Of Sorrowes Teares.

INto the Cup of Love poure Sorrowes teares,
Where every drop a perfect Image beares:
And trickling down the Hill of Beauties check,
Falls on the Breast, dives through, the Heart to meet.
Which Heart, burnt up would be with fire of grief,
Did not those tears with moysture give reliefe.

An Elegy on a Widow.

WIdow, which honour to her Husband gave!
By vertuous life, and faithful to her Grave,
Set Altars on this Hearse for memory,
And let her Fame live here eternally.
Here celebrate her Name, and bring
Your Offerings, and all her praises sing.
For she was one whom Nature strove to make
A Pattern fit, Ensamples out to take.

On a Mother, that dyed for griefe of her only Daughter, which dyed.

VNto this Grave let unkind Parents come,
And touch these loving Ashes in this urne.
All the dislike, Parents in Children find,
Shall vanish quite, and be of Nature kind.
For in this Tombe such pure Love buried lyes,
None perfect is, but what from hence doth rise.

On a beautifull young Maid, that dyed Daughter to the grieved Mother.

YOu Lovers all come mourne here, and lament
Over this Grave, and build a Monument,
For Beauties everlasting memory:
The world shall never such another see.
Her face did seem like to a Glory bright,
And when the Sun did rise, from her took light:
The Sun and Moon could ne're eclips'd have been,
If ere those Planets had her beauty seen.
Nor had this Isle been subject to dark nights,
Had not sleep shut her eyes, so stop'd those lights.
No Bodies could infection take, her breath
Did cleanse the Aire, restoring life from death.
But Nature finding she had been too free,
In making such a mighty Power as She,
Used all Industry's powerfull Art, and skil,
[Page 195] Gave Death a greater power this body to kill.
For if that Nature let this body live,
She had no work for Death, nor Fates to give.

The Funerall of Calamity.

CAlamity was laid on Sorrows Hearse,
And coverings had of Melancholy verse.
Compassion, as kind friends, doth mourning goe,
And tears about the Corps as flowers strow.
A Garland of deep sighs by pitty made,
On the sad Corps of Calamity laid.
Bels of complaints did ring it to the Grave,
And History a monument of fame it gave.

OF a Funerall.

ALas, who shall condole my Funerall,
Since none is neere that doth my life concern?
Or who shall drop a sacrificing tear,
If none but enemies my hearse shall bear?
For here's no mourner to lament my fall,
But all rejoyced in my fate, though sad;
And think my heavie ruine far too light,
So cruell is their [...], and their spight.
For men no pitty, nor compassion have,
But all in savage wildernesse doe delight,
To wash, and bathe themselves in my pure bloud,
As if they health receiv'd from that red floud.
Yet will the Winds ring out my knell,
And shouring raine fall on my hearse,
And Birds as Mourners sit thereon,
And Grasse a covering grow upon.
Rough stones, as Scutchions, shall adorne my Tombe,
And Glow worm burning Tapers stand thereby;
Night sable covering shall me over-spread,
Elegies of Man-drakes groans shall write me dead.
[Page 196] Then let no Spade, nor Pick-axe dig me up,
But let my bones lye quietly in peace.
For who the dead dislodges from their grave,
Shall neither blessednesse, nor honour have.

An Elegy on my Brother, Lill'd in these un­happy VVarres.

DEare Brother, thy Idea in my minde doth lye,
And is intomb'd in my sad memory;
Where every day I to thy Shrine doe goe,
And offer tears, which from my eyes doe flow.
My heart the fire, whose flames are ever pure,
Laid on Loves Altar last, till life endure.
My sorrows incense strew, of sighs fetch'd deep,
My thoughts doe watch while they sweet spirit sleeps.
Dear blessed soul, though thou art gone, yet lives
Thy fame on earth, and [...] [...] praises give.
But all's too smal, for thy Heroick minde
Was above all the praises of Man-kinde.

Of the death and buriall of Truth.

TRuth in the Golden Age was healthy, strong,
But in the Silver Age grew leane, and wan;
Ith' Brazen Age sore sick abed did lye,
And in the last hard Iron Age did dye.
Measuring, and Reckoning, both being just,
She as her two Executors did trust,
Her goods for to distribute all about
To her dear friends, as Legacies gave out.
First, usefull Arts, the life of men to ease;
Then those of pleasure, which the mind doe please.
Distinguishments from that to this, to shew
What's best to take, or leave, which way to goe;
Experiments to shun, or to apply,
Either for health, or peace, or what to fly:
And Sympathies, which keep the world unite,
Aversions otherwise would ruine quite.
This Will and Testament she left behind,
[Page 197] And as her Deed of Gift, left to Mankinde.
Mourning she gave to all her friends to weare,
And did appoint that foure her Hearse should beare;
Love at the head did hold the Winding-sheet;
On each side, Care and Feare, Sorrow the feet.
This sheet at every corner fast was ty'd,
Made of Oblivion strong, and very wide.
Naturall affections in mourning clad,
Went next the Hearse, with griefe distracted mad:
Did tear their hair, scracht face, and hands did wring,
And from their eyes fountaines of tears did spring.
For Truth, said they, did alwayes with us live.
But now she's dead, no Truth that we can give.
After came Kings, which all good Lawes did make,
And power us'd for Truth, and Vertues sake.
Next them came Honour, in Garments black, and long,
With blubber'd face, and her head down hung:
Who wisht to dye, for life was now a paine,
Since Truth was dead, honour no more could gaine.
Next these, Lovers with faces pale as Death,
With shame-fast eyes, quick Pulse, and shortned breath,
And in each hand, a bleeding heart did bring,
Which hearts within the grave of truth did fling.
And ever since, Lovers inconstant prove,
They more profession give, then reall love.
Next them came Counsellours of all degrees,
From Courts, and Countries, and chiefe Cities,
Their wise heads were a guard, and a strong wall,
So long as Truth did live amongst them all.
All sorts of Trades-men, using not to swear,
So long as Truth, not Oaths, sold [...] their ware.
Physitians came, who try new wayes for skil,
And for Experience sake doe many kil.
But doe use Simples good, which Nature sent,
To strengthen man, and sicknesse to prevent.
Some Judges were, no wrangling Lawyers base:
For Truth alive did plead, decide each case.
Widowes, that to their Husbands kind had swore,
That when they dyed, would never marry more.
At last the Clergy came, who taught Truths way,
[Page 198] And how men in devotion ought to pray:
By Morall Lawes the lives of men direct,
Perswade to peace, and Governours respect;
They wept for grief, as Prophets did fore-tell,
That all the world with fals-hood would rebell.
Faction will come, say they, and beare great sway,
And bribes the Innocent shall all betray.
Controversies within the Church shall rise,
And Heresies shall beare away the prize.
Instead of Peace, the Priests shall discords preach,
And high Rebellion in their doctrines teach.
Then shall men learn the Laws for to explain,
Which learning only serves for Lawyers gain.
For they doe make, and spread them in a Net,
To catch in Clients, and their money get.
The Laws, which Wise-men made to keep the peace,
Serve only now for quarrels to increase.
All those that sit in Honours stately throne,
Are counterfeits, not any perfect known.
They put on vizards of an honest face,
But all their Acts unworthy are, and base.
Friendship in words, and complements will live,
Not one nights lodging in the heart shall give.
Lovers shall dye for Lust, yet love not one;
And Vertue unregarded sit alone.
Now Truth is dead, no goodnesse here shal dwell,
But with disorder make each place a Hell.
With that they all shriekt out, lament, and cry
To Nature, for to end their misery.
And now this Iron Age's so rusty grown,
That all the Hearts are turn'd to hard flint-stone.
FINIS.

THE ANIMALL PARLIAMENT.

THe Soul called a Parliament in his Animal King­dom, which Parliament consisteth of three parts, the Soul, the Body, and the Thoughts; which are Will, Imaginations, and Passions. The Soul is the King, the Nobility are the Spirits, the Commonalty are the Humours and Appetites. The Head is the upper House of Parliament, where at the upper end of the said House sits the Soul King, in a Kernel of the Braine, like to a Chaire of State by himselfe alone, and his Nobility round about him. The two Arch-Bishops, Admiration, and Adoration; the rest are, Appre­hension, Resentment, and Astonishment. The Judges are the Five Senses, and the Wooll-sacks they sit on, are Sight, Sound, Sent, Tast, Touch. The Master of the Black Rod is Ignorance: under­standing, the Lord Keeper, is alwayes Speaker. The Clerke that writes downe all, is Memory.

The lower House of Parliament is the Heart, the Knights and Burgesses are Passions, and Affections. The Speaker is Love. The Clerke that writes downe all, is Fear. The Serjeant is Dislike. The severall Writs that are sent out by this Parliament, are sent out by the Nerves into every part of this Animall Kingdom, and the Muscles execute the power and Authority of those Writs up­on the Members of the Common-wealth. The lower House pre­sents their Grievances, or their desires, to the upper House the Braine, by the Arteries.

When they were all set in order, and a dead silence through all the House, the King made a Speech to the Assembly after this manner following.

The Kings Speech.

THe reason why I called this Parliament is, not only to re­ctifie the riotous disorders made by Vanity, and to re­peale the Lawes of erroneous opinions made in the minde, and to cut off the entayles of evil Consciences; but to raise Foure Subsidies of Justice, Prudence, Fortitude, and Temperance, whereby I may be able to defend you from the allurements of the World, as Riehes, Honour, and Beauty, and to beat out incroaching falshoods, which make inrodes, and doe carry a­way the innocency of Truth, and to quench the rebellion of su­perfluous words; but also to make and enact strict Lawes to a good Life, in which I make no question, but every one which are in my Parliament will be willing to consent, and be industri­ous thereunto: the rest I leave to my Keeper understanding, to in­forme you further of.

After the King had thus spoken, the Keeper made another Speech, as followeth.

The Lord Keepers Speech, who is Speaker.

My Noble Lords:

YOu may know by the calling of this Parliament, not only the wisdome of our gracious King, in desiring your aide and assistance, in the beginning of danger, before the fire growes too violent for your help to quench out; but his love, and tender regard of your safety. Besides, he hath shewed the unwilling­nesse he hath to oppresse, and burthen his good Subjects with hea­vie Taxes, before palpable necessity requires them: for he hath not called you upon suppositions and feares, but upon visible truths; neither was it Imprudence in staying so long, for it is as imprudent to disturbe a peaceable Common-wealth with doubts of what may come, as to be so negligent to let a threatning ruine run without opposition. Thus is our gracious Soveraigne wise in chusing his time, valiant in not fearing his enemies, carefull in calling the help and advice of his Parliament, and most bountifull, in that he requires not these Subsidies to spend in his particular delights, but for the good and benefit of the Common-wealth, and safety of his Subjects. Wherefore if any be obstinate in opposing, or seemes [Page 201] to murmure thereat, he is not worthy to be a Citizen thereof, and ought to be cast out as a corrupt member therein.

After he had ended his speech, he sits down in his place, and then rose up the Lord of Objection, and thus spake.

The Lord of Objections Speech.

My Lord:

ALL that your Lordship spoke is true, and therein you have shewed your selfe a Loyall Subject, and a faithfull Servants and I make no question, but every Member in the House will not only give their Estates, but spend their Lives for their King, and Country. Yet let me tell your Lordship, that I do beleeve the Par­liament will never be able to raise a Subsidy of Justice from the Commonalty: it is too strict a demand; as it is impossible for us to satisfie the Kings desire, unlesse the Commons were richer in Equi­ty. But if our gracious Soveraigne will take a Subsidy of Faith in lieu of it, I dare say it may be easily got, raising it upon the Clergy, who are rich therein.

After he had spoke, rose up the Bishop of Resentment, and said.

The Bishop's Speech.

My Lord:

IT may be easily perceived, that this Lords desire is, that the King should lay the heaviest Subsidy upon the Church: not but that I dare say so much for the [...] Body, as they would be as willing to assist the King in his Warres, as any of his Lay Subjects; yet what the Clergy have, belongs to the Gods; and what they take from us, they take from them.

After him, spoke the Bishop of Adoration.

The Bishop of Adoration's Speech.

My Lord:

OUr Brother hath told you the truth, that Faith is not to be given from the Gods; but, my Lord, to shew our willing­nesse and readinesse to the Kings service, we will give his Majesty a Subsidy of Prayers, which are the effects of Faith. The King, and the rest of the Lords approved of it, and sent a Writ of it, through [Page 202] the Arteries to the lower House the Heart for her approbat ion, which one of the Judges delivered to Master Speaker; then the Speaker taking the report said:

Gentlemen,

This Message is to let you know, That the Episcopall Body hath offered the King a Subsidy of Prayer, to helpe him in his Warres, if you agree to it.

With that rose up a Gentleman, and said.

The Gentlemans Speech.

Master Speaker:

THe Clergy are able to give the King more then one Subsidy, if they will, being so rich as they have ingrossed all the Consciences in the Kingdome, building great Colledges of Factions there-with: and these Colledges doe not only disturbe the Common­wealth, but impoverish it very much: for all that are bred there­in, imploy all their time so in Speculations, as there is no time left for honest and industrious practise; besides, their Tythes are so great, which they have out of Yen, as their poor Parishioners have almost none left (after their proportions are taken out) to serve their owne use, and maintenance.

Upon this Speech a Gentleman, one Master Zeale rose up, and thus spake.

Master Speaker:

ALthough the Clergy are Masters, and Rulers of Consciences, or should be so, yet they are to imploy them to no other use, but to the service of the Gods; But I feare, we of the Layety strivo to usurpe that authority to our owne worldly ends, or else we should never have those large Consciences, as to lay the Bur­then (from our owne shoulders) on theirs, but to doe as wee should be done unto: let us take their charitable assistance with thankes.

Most of the House were of this Gentlemans opinion, and voted an acceptance, and sending up to the upper House, that Subsidy was passed. After that was agreed, there was a Rationall Lord, that thus [...].

My Lord:

THere were some Opinions which were passed in former times, when the Parliament of Errours [...], in the yeare of Ignorance one thousand eight hundred [Page 203] and two; That none must be thought States-man, but those which were formall. That all that are bold must be thought wise. That those which have new and strange Fantasmes, must be thought the only men of knowledge. That none must be thought Wits, but Buffoanes. [...] none must be thought learned, but Sophisterian Disputants. That all that are not debanch'd, must be thought unsociable. That all that doe not flutter, must be thought uncivil. That all which tell severe truths, must be thought rude, and ill-natur'd. That all that are not Fantasticall, must be thought Clownish, and ill-bred. That all must be thought Cowards, that are not quarrelsome. That none must be thought valiant, but those that kill, or be killed. That none must be thought bountifull, but those that are prodigall. That none must be thought good Masters, but those that let their servants cousen them. That none must be esteemed, but those that are rich. That none must be be­loved, but those that are powerfull. That none must be re­spected, but those that have outward honour. That none must be thought religious, but those that are superstitious. That none must be thought constant, but those that are stub­borne. That none are patient, but those that suffer affronts of scorne. That none are thristy, but those that are sluttish. That none are chast, but those that are not beautifull. That no man must be seene abroad with his owne Wife, left he bee thought jealous. That Blushing must be thought a Crime, proceeding from guiltinesse. That none must be thought mer­ry, but those that laugh. That none must be thought sad, but those that cry. That all poors men must be thought fooles. That all Citizens must be thought [...]. That none must be thought good Lawyers, and Doctors, but those which will take great Fees. That all duty and submission belongs so power, not to vertue. That all must have ill back, after much mirth. That all those that marry on Tuesdayes and Thursdayes, shal be happy. That a mans Fortune can be told in the palme of his hand. That the falling of Salt portends misfortune. Those that begin journies upon a Wednesday, shall [...] through much danger. That all women that are poore, old, and ill­favoured, must be thought Witches, and be burnt for the same. That the bouling of a Dog, or the or oaking of Ravens, fore-tell a friends death.

[Page 204] These ought to be repealed, and new ones enacted in their roome; That all those that have got the power, though unjustly, ought to be obeyed, without reluctancy. That all light is in the Eye, not in the Sun. That all Colours are a Perturb'd Light; and so are reflections, rather an inherent quality or substance. That all Sound, Sent, Sight, is created in the Braine. That no Beast hath remembrance, numerati­on, or curiosity. That all passions are made in the Head, not in the Heart. That the Soul is a Kernel in the Braine. That all the old Philosophers were fooles, and knew little. That the Moderne Philosophers have committed no Errours. That there are six primitive Passions. That the bloud goeth in a Circulation. That all the fixt Stars are Suns. That all the Planets are other worlds. That Motion is the Creator of all things, at least of all formes. That Death is only a privati­on of Motion, as Darknesse is a privation of Light. That the Soule is a thing, and nothing.

This motion which this Noble Lord made, was enacted by the whole Parliament with much applause. When he was set down, my Lord Reason rose, and thus spake.

My Lord:

I should thinke in my judgement, that it would be beneficiall to the Common-wealth, that there should be a Statute made a­gainst all false Coyne, as dissembling tears, and hollow sighs, flattering words, and feigning smiles.

But upon this Speech rose up one of the Lords, and thus spake.

My Lord:

THe Propositions of this Lord are very dangerous: for if this great Councell of Parliament should goe about to call in all false Coyne which is minted, they must call in all which is in the Kingdome, to make a triall of the currantnesse; which would dis­content most therein. For why, the stamp is so lively, and artifi­cially imprinted therein, as it is impossible for the right to bee knowne from the false. Further, my Lord, these Coynes are so cunningly mixt with Alehemy, as the difference would hardly he knowne, if they were now melted.

With that rose up one of the Judges, and said thus.

My Lord:

IT is an ancient Law belonging to this Kingdome, to make it death for any to clip currant Coyne with Hypocrisie, or to mixe [Page 205] falshood with slander: and if this abuse should be winckt at, there would be no commerce with this Kingdom and Truth.

The Lord Reason rose up againe, and said thus.

My Lord:

THere is another abuse in this Kingdom, which is, there are many Luxurious Palats, as they doe destroy the strength of the Stomack, and quench out the naturall heate therein, making it so weake by reason of ill digestion, never giving so much time as to make a good concoction, to breed new bloud, as there is like (if speedy order be not taken to prevent it) may come a Dearth of Flesh over all the Kingdom of the Body.

Upon this, Judge Taste rose up, and thus spake.

My Lord:

THere was never any Lawes made in all the former Kings reigne, that there should be a perpetuall abstinency, but only in time of Lent, when the pennance of Physick was taken. For if the stomack should eate sparingly, and not such things as the Appetite doth desire, the Body of the Kingdom would grow weak and faint; and all Industry would cease: for the Legs would never be able to goe, nor the Hands to worke, nor the Armes to [...]; the Complexion would grow pale, the Skin rough, the Liver dry, and all the parts of the Kingdom would grow unfit for use; that if a warre of sicknesse should come, they would never be able to de­fend themselves.

The same Lord Reason rose up, and said thus.

My Lord:

THere is another great abuse, which is in Articulate, and Vo­call sounds, or tone of the Voyces: for most when they read, do so whine, raising their Notes upon the Peg of the Tongue so high, as they crack the strings of Sense; or else the singers of words play so fast, as they keep no stops, or else so slow, as they make more stops then they should: which make it preposterous. Truly my Lord, if these be not rectified, all the Nobles of understanding wil be ruinated, and affronted with a seeming Non-Sense. This was disputed hard on, before it would be pass'd, but at last it was.

After this Dispute, there was a Lord rose up, and said thus.

My Lord:

WEE spend here our time to rectifie the Errours that are committed in the Kingdome amongst our selves, and not considering the danger we live in from forraigne enemies a­broad, which are Rhyming [...], who make continuall in­rodes, [Page 206] stealing all our Cattle of Fancies, and plunder us of our best, and richest conceipts: which if we doe not provide Armes of Rhe­thoricke to exclaime against them, they may chance to usurp the Crowne of Wit, and make themselves Heires to that they were ne­ver borne to. Wherefore, my Lord, let us joyne, to set up Forts of Satyrs, and there plant Cannons of Scorne, from thence to shoot Bullets of Scoffes, to strike them dead with shame. To this all the House assented.

In the meane time, the lower House were busily imployed with affaires too, about Naturalizing a Gentleman. For one of the Members said:

Master Speaker:

THere is a Gentleman, one Mr. Friendship, desires to be Natu­raliz'd by the Parliament.

Another Member rose, and said thus.

Master Speaker:

IN my sense it is very prejudiciall to Naturalize Strangers: for why should Strangers receive the same Priviledges with the Natives, and to be made capable to inherit our Lands, unlesse we could cut off the Entayles of Affection, which are tyed to their Native Country, the Kingdome of Parents, or the Islands of Chil­dren, or the Provinces of Brethren, and Kindred; otherwise it is likely they will turne Rebels, if a warre chance to be with this Kingdome, and that, where they were borne.

With that the former Gentleman rose up, and said.

Master Speaker:

I Would not preferre this Gentlemans suite, had he been borne in the Land of Obligation, Civilities, or Courtesies; but he was borne in the Land of Sympathy, whereunto this Kingdome hath a relation, by reason our King hath a right therein, and ought to have the power thereof, by the Lawes of Justice; for his Mother, Queene [...], was Daughter to the Sympathian King: so that this Gentleman, Master Friendship, in Justice is a naturall Sub­ject to our King, although not a Citizen in the Common-wealth. Hereupon the House was divided, some gave their Voyces for Him, others against Him: but when they came to be numbred, he had most Voices on his side; for he had been so industrious in Petitioning every particular Member before hand; that he made himselfe many friends, some out of favour to himselfe, others for the good will to those that favoured him: so that one way, [Page 207] or other, it was sent up to the upper House, where my Lord Reason spoke so well in his behalfe, as the Act passed for him.

After this, there was a Member rose, and said.

Master Speaker:

THere are in the Kingdome some grievances, which ought to be reform'd: which is, to make an Act, That all the High Wayes, and common Rodes should be mended, and kept in repaire. For in some Mouths the Teeth are so foule, and rotten, and such deep holes, as great peeces of meat tumble downe into the Saw­pits of the Maw without chewing.

The next is, that many Nose-bridges are ready to fall downe, by reason the great French Pox doth travell so often over them, as they crack the very foundation thereof.

The third is, That the Stomack is so often over-flowed with Drink, by rea'on the Throat sluces are so wide, as the Kingdome is not only much impaired thereby, making obstructions, by reason there passes oft-times much mud of Meat, with liquid Drinke, but indangers the Kingdome of drowning; the more, for that slug which makes the liquor rise higher; besides, it breeds many thick vapours, which cause much Raine, and strong Winds, and unwholsome [...], which breed dizzie Diseases, and bring Appoplexies of sleep.

The fourth grievance is, that the Puritans, and Roman Priests cut downe all the stately and thick woods of Haire, as there is almost none left grown to build ships of ornament with: this in time will decay the Navigation of Becomming, and leave the Islands of the Eares bare, to the ruine of Cold; besides the prodigall [...] Sex burnes it up with Iron workes, or breakes it off at the rootes, in making traps for Lovers.

This grievance was resented much in the House, and a Com­mittee ordained to make a strict inquiry, and to report back to the House; which was done with all speed.

The Chair-mans Report back.

Master Speaker:

THe Committee hath found, that many of the High-wayes, and Common Rodes are much impaired by negligence: for some are so bad, as nothing wil mend them; others the Committee hath exa­min'd, & found out some helps: for the deep holes might be fill'd up [Page 208] with white Wax, and those that are broken and ragged, may be fil'd smooth, and even; and those that are black, and scal'd, may be scrap'd with a steele instrument, and those that are dirty, and foule, may be rubb'd with China, or Brick, or the like; those that are loose, may be washed with Allum-water, or Myrrhe-water, which will fasten them againe. As for the Bridges, there are not many fallen downe, but only sagg'd, and loose: which, if the Common­wealth will be at the charges, may keep them from falling with Silver pinnes, which will prop them up. But truly, Mr. Speaker, there are great spoyls of the Woods of Haire; but in youth, Time wil repaire them againe, but in Age, they wil never grow againe: for the ground is alwayes dry, and barren, as it will alwayes be bare, and bald. As for the great Over-flowes, there is no way to hin­der, or stop that torrent, but by shutting the Water gates, the Lips.

After this relation, the lower House sent the reports to the upper House, after which they made an Act of prevention; Their Sta­tutes running thus.

BE it knowne to all, and some in this Kingdom; That hence­forth from this present of January, one thousand eight hun­dred and two, that no Sweet-meats shall travell through the mouth, nor no Nuts be crackt, nor no Pins lye in the high-wayes of the mouth, to canker fret the Teeth; as also be it enacted, that all hands labourers shall be imployed with Pick-tooths after meat had pas­sed those wayes, and let every particular Shire be at the charge thereof.

Be it also enacted, to keep the bridges strong, lest they fall to ruine, that the flud-flush be given to all the amorous sort, with bathes, and dry dyets every spring and fall, for feare the soundati­on of the Nose should be rotted, by reason of much corruption which passes through; also let there be cut a passage upon each shoulder, making gutters of issues, that the Humour may be diverted by running those wayes, that the Kingdome may be drain'd from superfluous moysture. Also be it enacted, that to the conserving of the woods of Haire, that no haires be pull'd up by the roots, but only prun'd by the Husbandmen Barbers; also we forewarn the use of Curling-Irons, Crisping-Irons, or the like; but let the loose woods of haire be bound up with strings.

Be it also enacted, That no great Draughts be drunk, unlesse great [Page 209] [...] require it: also no Healths to be dranke but upon Festi­vall dayes. But upon going out of this Act, all the young women and men in the Kingdome made such a matiny, as the Parliament had much adoe to pacifie them; nor could not, untill they had alter'd that clause of Sweet-meats, and Healths. After this there was a Member rose up, and said.

Master Speaker:

THere is in this Kingdom some foolish and unnecessary Castoms, which have been brought from forraigne parts, which ought to be abolished. One is, to digge holes in the Eares, to set Pendants in, which puts the Kingdom to a charge of paine, and al­so is a heavie burthen therein. The second is, to pull up the Hedges of the Eye-brows by the roots, leaving none but a narrow and thin row, that the Eyes can receive no shade there-from. The third is, to peele the first skin off the face with Oyle of Vitriol, that a new skin may come in the place, which is apt to shrivell the skin under­neath. But for the abolishing of these customs few agreed to, fea­ring such another Mutiny as the former, amongst the effeminate sex.

Whiles they were demurring upon this, there came Petitioners with a Petition to offer to the House, which when that was heard, they sent for their Petition in, and made the Clerk read it.

The Petition of the Veines.

WEE, your Honours humble and poore Petitioners, desire a redresse from all ill Livers, or else we cannot furnish your Honours with such bloud, as your Honours require from us. For by reason of dry, hot, corrupted, or obstructed Livers, we, your Ho­nours Pipe-veines, want filling, or else we are fill'd with such wate­rish, or else with such black and melancholy bloud, as the Kingdom is either parcht for want of moysture, or over-flowed with too much; being alwayes in extreames: so as we are all undone, and our Trading utterly decayed thereby. Wherefore we beseech your Honours to take it into your Honours considerations, and give us a reparation from the Liver, for which we shall be bound to pray for your Honours.

Upon this Petition, the House ordained a Writ, to warne the Li­ver to appeare before a Committee to be examined, where strait the Liver appear'd; who excus'd himselfe, saying, the Appetite flung into the Stomack a great quantity of rubbish, and the Stomack being an il Neighbour, to disburthen himself from that [...], flung it upon him, stopping up all crosse passages; insomuch that he had not roome to discharge himself freely: but as for his own part, he [Page 210] was much poorer, and [...] then they, and had more reason to complaine.

Whereupon the House made an Act, that the Stomack should be [...] every spring and fall with Purges.

Then rose up a Member, and [...].

Mr. Speaker, There are a people in this Kingdom ought to be banished, which are Juglers, Mountebanks, and Gypsies; as jugling Lovers, which deceive all the [...] Sex with false and deluding praises. The next are Mountebank [...], who have gotten Priviledges of freedome, to put off their bald Jeasts at an [...] rate, selling upon the Stage of Mirth, taking [...] for pay from the poore ignorant [...]. These Fellows take upon themselves the name of Doctors of Wit, prosessing their skill, whereby they doe much harme, by reason their Drugs are naught, and their skil little, by which many times they kill, instead of [...]; for they doe apply their poysonous iests on unprepared Bodies, and give their Medicines in unseasonable time; besides their Medicines, being most commonly bitter, gives a dislike to the Tast; and being not taken in fit time, bring the disease of [...], and being wrong applyed, cause death to a good fame. The next are Gypfies, which [...] many; as Sympathy Powder, Viper Wines Love Powder, Cramp Rings, crosse Knots, raking up the [...] on St. Agnes Eve, laying Bride-cake under their heads, and many the like.

Another Member said; Mr. Speaker, There are light Wenches of [...], and [...] Bawds, ought to be whipt, Black patches, Sweet Pow­ders, [...], Bracelets made of their Lovers Haire, fancy-colour'd Ribbons, to resemble the several Passions; Looking-glasses to hang by their sides; Love-Posies in Rings, Love-Letters wrought in Hand­kerchiefs, Valentines worne on sleeves, and to [...] by signes.

Another Member said, next is Bawds, as Romancies, Bals, Colla­tions, Questions and Commands, Riddles, Purposes, &c.

There was another Member rose up, and said thus.

Mr. Speaker, there are worse Creatures in the Kingdom, and more dangerous, which ought to be burnt; as Lovely [...], exact Proportion, clear Complexi­on: when these spirits are raised in the circle of the face, who so comes [...] that Face, although it be the Soul it selfe, is bewitch­ed with a looke; and such power is in that Magick, that nothing can undoe it, but Sicknesse, and old Age.

The other Witch, is elegant Eloquence: this Witch hath much power, raising up Sense, Funcy, Phrase, Number, in the circle of the Eare, and whosoever comes neer them, although the Soul it selfe that spirit the Tongue bewitches them, and this is so strong a Ma­gick, [Page 211] as nothing can undoe, but forgetfulnesse. 'Tis true, there is a Law against them, which belongs to the Judges care, as, Hearing and Sight; but when they come before them to be examin'd, and to be condemn'd, if they be found guilty; they are so [...] from punishing them, as they set them at liberty, and those bonds that should bind them, they bind themselves with, and so be­come voluntary slaves to those Witches.

Then did the King call both Houses together into a great Hall, and thus spake.

MY good and loving Subjects, I give you thankes for your care and industry, in rectifying the Errours of this King­dome, and for your love to me, in giving me those Subsi­dies I [...], although I call'd for them as well for your safety, as my owne; such is my tender regard to my people, as their safety is my care, and their prosperity my happinesse. For I desire to be King of Affection, ruling them with Cle­mency, rather then to be only King of Power, ruling them with Tyranny, binding my Subjects to slavery. The power I desire, is, to beat my enemies abroad, not to fright my Sub­jects at home; to defend them, not to ruine them; I covet not the riches of my Subjects, I hold not the Sword to cut their Purse-strings, but to decide truth from falshood, to give E­quity, and to doe Justice. Yet let me [...] them, my Sword is as ready to punish Offenders, as my Clemency is to reward the vertuous. But I have found, and I make no question I shall finde them alwayes as ready to obey, as I to command; and because every one may returne to his owne private af­faires, since in publique bufinesse there is little lest now to doe, but what I can order my selfe, I dissolve my Parliament for this time, untill there be an occasion to call them toge­ther againe.

Whereupon the Parliament all cryed;

God save the King, God save the King.

I Know, those that are strict and nice about Phrase, and the pla­cing of words, will carp at my Booke: for I have not set my words in such order, as those which write elegant Prose. But I must confesse ingenuously, my shallow wit could not tell how to order it to the best advantage; besides, I found it difficult, to get so many Rhythmes, as to joyn the sense of the Subject: and by reason I could not attaine to both, I rather chose to leave the Elegance of words, then to obstruct the sense of the matter. For my desire was to make my conceit easie to the understanding, though my [...] were not so fluent to the eare. Againe, they will finde fault with the Numbers; for I was forc'd to fewer or more, to bring in the sense of my Fancies. All I can say for my selfe is, that Poetry consists not so much in Number, Words, and Phrase, as in Fancy. Thirdly, they will finde fault at the Subject; saying, it is neither materiall, nor usefull for the Soule, or Body. To this I answer, My intention was, not to teach Arts, nor Sciences, nor to instruct in Divinity, but to passe away idle Time; and thought Time might be better [...]: yet 'tis oft spent worse amongst many in the world.

I Language want, to dresse my Fancies in,
The Haire's uncurl'd, the Garments loose, and thin;
Had they but Silver Lace to make them gay,
Would be more courted then in poore array.
Or had they Art, might make a better show;
But they are plaine, yet cleanly doe they goe.
The world in Bravery doth take delight,
And glistering Shews doe more attract the sight;
And every one doth honour a rich Hood,
As if the outside made the inside good.
And every one doth how, and give the place,
Not for the Mans sake, but the Silver Lace.
Let me intreat in my poore Bookes behalfe,
That all may not adore the Golden Calf.
Consider pray, Gold hath no life therein,
And Life in Nature is the richest thing.
So Fancy is the Soul in Poetrie,
And if not good, a Poem ill must be.
[Page 213] Be just, let Fancy have the upper place,
And then my Verses may perchance finde grace.
If flattering Language all the Passions rule,
Then Sense, I feare, will be a meere dull Foole.
THe worst Fate Bookes have, when they are once read,
They're laid aside, forgotten like the Dead:
Under a heap of dust they buried lye,
Within a vault of some small Library.
But Spiders they, for honour of that Art
Of Spinning, which by Nature they were taught;
Since Men doe spin their Writings from the Braine,
Striving to make a lasting Web of Fame,
Of [...] thin, high Altars doe they raise,
There offer Flyes, as sacrifice of praise.
WHen that a Book doth from the Presse come new,
All buyes, or borrows it, this Book to view:
Not out of love of Learning, or of wit,
But to finde Faults, that they may censure it.
Were there no Faults for to be found therein,
As few there are, but doe erre in some thing;
Yet Malice with her ranckled Spleen, and spight,
Will at the Time, or Print, or Binding bite.
Like Devils, when they cannot good soules get,
Then on their Bodies they their [...] set.
SIr Charles into my chamber coming in,
When I was writing of my Fairy Queen;
I pray, said he, when Queen Mab you doe see,
Present my service to her Majesty:
And tell her, I have heard Fames loud report,
Both of her Beauty, and her stately Court.
When I Queen Mab within my Fancy view'd,
My Thoughts bow'd low, fearing I should be rude;
Kissing her Garment thin, which Fancy made,
Kneeling upon a Thought, like one that pray'd;
[Page 214] In whispers soft I did present
His humble service, which in mirth was sent.
Thus by imagination I have been
In Fairy Court, and seen the Fairy Queen.
For why, imagination runs about
In every place, yet none can trace it out.
A Poet I am neither borne, nor bred,
But to a witty Poet married:
Whose Braine is Fresh, and Pleasant, as the Spring,
Where Fancies grow, and where the Muses sing.
There oft I leane my Head, and [...] harke,
To heare his words, and all his Fancies mark;
And from that Garden Flowers of Fancies take,
Whereof a Posie up in Verse I make.
Thus I, that have no Garden of mine owne,
There gather Flowers that are newly blowne.

REader, I have a little Tract of Philosophicall Fancies in Prose, which will not be long before it appear in the world.

FINIS.

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.