CERTAIN SELECTED ODES OF HORACE, ENGLISH­ed; and their Arguments annexed.

With Poems (Antient and Modern) of divers Subiects, Translated.

Whereunto are added, both in Latin and English, sundry new

  • EPIGRAMMES.
  • ANAGRAMMS.
  • EPITAPHES.
[printer's device? (not indexed in McKerrow) or decoration]

LONDON, Printed by H. L. for Richard Moore; and are to be solde at his Shop in Saint Dunstans Church-yard, in Fleet­street. 1621.

[Rectangular illustration with center circle containing a wheat sheaf supported by two animals, around which are the words: "Cor unum via una" (description from EEBO catalogue record of Tract Supplement / E4:1[52a] which consists entirely of this same device)]

RVERENDISSIMO IN CHRISTO PATRI ET DOMINO, D. TOBIAE, Archiepiscopo Eboracensi, Angl. Primati & Metropolitano dignissimo.

ANAGR.
  • TωBIAS MATHEVS.
  • I HOMO SAT BEATVS.
EPIGR. de Eodem.
Ipse beatus homo es, coelestia dona beatum
Si faciant. I: SAT nempe BEATVS HOMO es.
Aliud.
  • TωBIAS MATHEIVS.
  • IEHOVA SIT MI SABOT.
Epigram.
Tranquillâ pacis mea mens sic sede locata,
MI terrae saturo, SIT que IEHOVA SABOT.
Angl.
My Soule, SIT in the seat of Safety, blest:
IEHOVA is MI SABOT, my sweet Rest.
Ad Eundem.
SI tibi (cui reserant sacrae sua claustra Camoenae,
Cuius & à labijs Attica mella fluunt)
Haec non displiceant Venusini carmina vatis,
Strididulae (ut potui) mî modulata lyrae,
Sed vultus crepta tui splendore tenebris,
Incipiant coelo liberiore frui;
Non ronchos metuam, non vani scommata vulgi,
Censores tetricos, grammaticásve Tribus.
Solus eris contra haec Aiacis spicula scutum;
Dulce & praesidium Tu mihi solus eris.
Angl.
IF Thee, the Muses sacred Rites that knowes,
And from whose Lips pure Attick Hony flowes,
These Lyrick Poet's Songs doo not displease,
Tun'd (as I could) to my Pipe's homely Laies,
But (doom'd to darknes) by thy gracefull Sight
Bee brought abroad, to see the gladsome Light;
No gleering Scorns I'll fear, nor spitefull Gibes,
Nor crabbed Criticks, nor Grammarian Tribes.
Thou, thou alone, 'gainst all these Darts shalt bee
An Aiax-Shield, and sweet Defence to mee.
Amplitudini tuae, omni observantiâ devotus, IOH: ASHMORE.

To my Friend, the Author.

TO praise Thee, is a Labour to no end;
Since those, that read Thee, cannot but Commend.
Let Envie read, and Envie will becom
A Convert; or, at least, shee will be dum.
G. S.

Ad Amicum suum, Ioh. Ashmore.

LAus in laudato, non in laudante, Poëta est:
Laus meritum sequitur, corpus ut umbra suum.
Extollam licèt ergo tuos ad sydera Versus
Laudibus, extollent te tua Metra magis.
Ioh. Owen.

In harum Eligantiss. Odarum Tran­slationem, Hexastichon.

EN, Flaccus rediviuus adest; nimiumque negatâ
Anglica dulce melos protulit arte lyra.
Flaccus adest: Eadem mens est, & carminis idem
Sensus: forma eadem est, ingenij que genus.
Flaccus eris totus, si qui aspiraverit orsis
Sit tibi Mecaenas (docte Poëta) tuis.
Samuel Pullein.

To the ingenious Author.

MVch have I read: but, never could I finde
A Poëm that so well did please my Minde,
As thy sweet Numbers. It is hard to tell,
The Matter, or the Manner, which excell.
This Work of Thine, with such Perfection fram'd,
So Scholler-like, may Others make asham'd
(When they reflect upon thy Straines their sight)
To publish their Composures to the Light.
Let no brow-bended envious Carper say,
That my Affection made my Iudgement stray.
Such Stateliness doth in thy Poëms dwell,
That what thou writ'st but few can Parallel.
Thomas Cordin.
GRac't by the Muses, Poët most expert,
My Praises cannot equall thy Desert.
My ravisht Soule thy rare Straines doth admire,
And thy sweet Muses high aspiring fire.
Come Poëts; and his temples Crown with Bayes:
Not many have, or can write better Layes.
R. I.
CERTAIN SELECTED ODE …

CERTAIN SELEC­TED ODES OF HORACE TRANSLATED.

Ad Mecaenatem. Lib. 1. Ode prima.

THE ARGVMENT.
That many a way, most men assay
Their heads up high to raise:
Which he neglects, and most affects
A Lyrick Poets praise.
The English answereth the Latine, in Lines and syllables.
MEcaenas, of the race of Kings thy grandsires, bred,
O thou my chief support, & garland of my head;
Some with Olympian dust besmeard delight to ride
In Chariots, and the burning wheeles with skill to guide
Fast by the mark, whom victory and palms of praise,
With shouts unto the gods, Lords of the earth, doth raise.
This man's puft up, if fickle Romans doe agree
To reare him up with stiles of three fold dignitie.
If he in Garners safely have laid up in store
His corne from Affrick brought, he careth for no more.
He that in peace at home delights his Land to till,
On no condition unto him proposed, will
Turne Mariner, and feare-full with a Cyprian plank
Cut out a way through hils and dales of billowes rank.
The Marchant, fearing windes that in th' Icarian Seas
Doe wrastle in great rage, the countrey life doth praise,
And their town fields: Then straight his shake-ship doth re­pair,
Vntaught the scorn-full wrongs of poverty to bear.
In froathing boawles of generous wine he healths doth drink,
And busies not his brain, of State affaires to think;
But careless under th' Arbute shade sometime he lies,
Somtime by th' holy well where bubbling waters rise.
In camps entrencht▪ & trumpets sound som men delight,
And in stiff shocks of bloody wars that matrons fright.
The huntsman stayes ith' cold with hazard of his life,
Vnmindfull how hee left his young and tender wife;
Whether his trustie Dogges pursue the fleeing Deer,
Or the revenge-full Boars the toyles asunder teare.
The Ivie wreathes, rewards that learned for-heads get,
Me canoniz'd among the highest gods will set.
The pleasant groves, the light-foot Nymphs, and Satyrs dance,
Shall me above the vulgar sort of men advance,
If Euterpe my pipes stop not, nor the sweet Muse
Polymnia my Lesbian Harp to tune refuse.
But if that thou among the Lyrick Poets place me,
Not heaven it self can then with more cōtentment grace me.

Ad Licinium. Lib. 2. Ode 10.

THE ARGVMENT.
Those that desire soone to aspire
To happinesse of life,
By th' golden meane, the same must gain,
Which most is freed from strife.
THou shalt Licinius better live, if still
Thy Bark thou doe not force into the Deep;
Or, ore-much fearing lest rough windes should fill
Thy sailes, too neer the crooked shore do creep.
He that regards and loues the golden meane,
Is not with smoak of his poore house blear-ey'd:
And, well advis'd, he blends not with the traine
Of mighty Princes that are most envy'd.
Oft-times, the windes do toss the Cedars tall:
And stately Towers up-reard into the ayre,
With greater danger to the earth do fall:
And thunder-bolts the highest hils doe teare.
In all distress, a well instructed minde
Hope intertaines: And feares, when fortune smiles,
That suddenly shee'll turne and prove unkinde.
Ioue black fac't winters brings and them exiles.
If now wisht-for success do thee refuse,
Think not that still it will continue so:
Sometime Apollo's Harp the drooping Muse
Strikes up; Nor bends he still his angry bowe.
If clowds of hard mishap ore-cast thy day,
With beames of thy great courage them expell:
And when thy Ship doth dance upon the Sea,
Led down the sailes with too proud windes that swell.

Ad Lydiam. Lib. 1. Ode 13.

THE ARGVMENT.
It much him mooves, that Lydia loues
His Rivall: And their life
He doth commend, whose loue toth' end
Continueth without strife.
WHen Lydia thou of Telephus dost tell,
His rosie neck and plyant armes dost praise,
My liver then (alas!) begins to swell,
Enrag'd with wrath which nothing can appease.
My colour, changing oft, doth plainely shew
How my perplexed minde is plung'd in woe:
And tears, by stealth from watry eyes that flowe,
Can nothing quench loves fire that still doth growe.
I vexed am, whether iarre-breeding wine
Caus'd roaring Boyes to wrong thy shoulders faire;
Or the Lust-raging Lad, those lips of thine
The wanton marke caus'd of his tooth to beare.
Beleeve me, he will never constant prove,
That rudely wrongs sweet kisses in such sort;
Those kisses, which the Goddess faire of loue
Graceth with the fift part of her best sport.
Thrice happy, and more happy, are they sure,
Whose mutuall love so banisheth all strife,
That pure and constant it doth still endure
Till Fates cut off their well-spun thread of life.

Ad Grosphum. Lib. 2. Ode 16.

THE ARGVMENT.
No outward thing thee well can bring
Vnto a quiet minde.
Within it is, that brings this bliss:
There helpe we best may finde.
THe Marchant toyl'd in the Egëan Sea,
When Phoebe's face is vail'd with a dark cloud,
And the known stars from sight are fled away,
For ease unto the gods doth cry aloud.
For Ease, the Thracians (terrible in warre)
For Ease, the Medes (with comely quivers bold)
O Grosphus, to the gods still suters are,
Bought with no gems, with purple, or with gold.
No treasure, neither Sergeant can arrest
The wretched hurly-burlies of the minde,
And cares with rest-less wings that beat the breast,
And in faire-fretted roofes still harbour finde.
He lives well with a little, that doth keep
His late Sires table furnisht with meane fare;
That is not robd of rest, nor scar'd from sleep
With hide-bound Avarice, or heart-scorching Care.
Why doe we, short-liv'd things, on tentars set
Our greedy thoughts with vaine desire of pelf?
In climats furthest off, What would we get?
Who, from his Countrey exil'd, flees from himselfe?
Care, vice-borne, climbs into the brass-stemd ships:
In warlike troupes her selfe she slily shrowds:
Swifter then Stags, swifter then windes she skips,
That do disperse, and drive away the clowds.
Be Ioviall while time serves (Time will not stay.)
Hate curiously t' enquire what will betide:
Sowr discontentments with sweet mirth allay.
Entirely good, nothing doth still abide.
Vntimely death did stout Achilles slay:
Old age Tithonus did Epitomize:
And my birth-star perhaps grants me a day
To date my life; which thine to thee denies.
Faire flocks of sheep, fat heards of cattell low
About thee, and thy lustfull Mare with pride
Neighs out, now for the Chariot fit: and thou
Wearst purple, twice in Tyrian liquors dy'd.
The Dest'nie, ne'r deceiv'd, on me bestowes
A little ground, and veine of Poësie
Which from the pleasant Greekish fountains flowes,
And th' un-taught Vulgar wils me to defie.

In ambitiosum quendā & avarū. Li. 2. Od. 18

THE ARGVMENT.
That hee's content with his small rent;
When richer still doe crave,
And for more look by hook or crook
Though one foot in the grave.
NO Ivory seeling, nor roofe adorned
With light-out-streaming gold, in my house shineth:
No beames from Hymet press pillars formed
Where the sky-touching hill Affrick confineth.
No wealth by ill meanes doe I win,
Nor for mee clyents purple spin.
But of trust and wit some store have I:
To me but poor, come men rais'd high by fortune:
More of the Gods themselves ne'r crave I,
Nor greater things of my great friend importune:
I wish not for more land or rent.
Sabine alone yeelds me content.
One day another day expelleth,
New-moons soon die: Thou marble-trimmers hyrest
Ready to goe where Pluto dwelleth;
And, building, vainely to long life aspirest.
From Neptune thou the shore dost steale away,
Incroaching on the angry Sea.
What should I tell, how 'gainst all order
Thy neighbours land-marks alwaies thou removest,
And from thy tenants that upon thee border,
Ground pilfers: Thou from house and home out-shovest
Both man and wife, that wailing beare
Their houshold gods and children deare.
Yet hast thou (rich Lord) no assurance
So great of any house where thou remained,
As that thou shalt be kept in durance
Of all-devouring hell, and there restrained.
What wilt thou? None the grave can shun:
It takes the King, and the Kings sonne.
Nor was hells Catch-pole with gold bribed
Wily Prometheus backward to bring againe:
He boasting Tantalus derided,
And his proud of-spring though they cry'd out amaine.
He easeth men cast downe with woe,
Whether they call on him or no.

Ad Posthumum. Lib. 2. Ode. 14.

THE ARGVMENT.
None can deny, we all must die.
And riches to no end
Som keep with fears, which their glad heirs
Soon riotously will spend.
OPosthume, Posthume, years doe passe away
Like glyding streames. Nor pietie can stay
The wrinkled brow, nor olde age hasting fast,
Nor death, that all attacheth at the last.
Not if my friend, each day in all thy yeares,
Stern Pluto thou should with three-hundred Steers
Seek to appease. Three-headed Gerion,
And Tytius, ore the Stygian streame are gone:
Which all must doe that heer do draw their breath;
Both Kings, and silly Labourers of the earth.
In vaine from bloody broyles we take our ease,
And from th' encounters of the Adrian Seas:
In vaine in Autumne seeke we to avoid
The Southern blasts, whereby we are annoyd.
We needs must see Cocytus heavie flood,
And Danaus cruell daughters staind with blood,
And Sisyphus that rowles against the hill
The stone that tumbles back upon him still.
Thy house, thy land, and wife to thee most deare,
Thou needs must leave: Nor to the mournfull beere
Will any of these trees that thou dost dress,
Attend on thee, but the sad Cyparess.
Thy heire, more worthy, riotously will waste
Thy Cecube wines with many locks kept fast;
And die the pavement with high-spirited wine,
Better then Prelates drink of when they dine.

Ad Pirrham. Lib. 1. Ode 5.

THE ARGVMENT.
He saith, their state is curst by Fate
That Pirrha's baits inthrall:
From this gulf freed, vowd gifts with speed
That he hung oth' Church-wall.
WHat pretty youth, weltring in roses
With liquid odors overspred,
O Pirrha thee in 's armes incloses,
When thou loves Lecture hast him read
Ith' inner bower? Neglecting curious dresses,
For whom plaitst thou the gold-wire of thy tresses?
How oft will he that at his pleasure
Enioyes thee now (alas) complaine,
That he is robd of that sweet treasure
By angry gods, and vowes made vaine?
How will he curse the Seas so soon that wrangle,
Whom such sly baits could not before intangle?
For he poor soule, deceiv'd, beleev'd
Thou wouldst be true to him alone,
And lovely: But his heart, now griev'd,
Thy false inconstancy doth mone.
His tents he in destructions black field pitches,
Whom thou untride, with thy fair face bewitches.
The Temples wall, that's consecrated,
To every eye the Table showes
Where my sad ship-wrack is related:
And how ith' midst of all my woes,
I hung to th' Sea god, after strange beseeches,
My doublet wringing wet, and cod-piec't breeches.

Ad Martium Censorinū. Lib. 4. Ode. 8.

THE ARGVMENT.
That to his friends he nothing sends
But Verses: and this gift
Doth make mens name, resound with fame,
And them to heaven up-lift.
RIch plate and Iewels, that do lively showe
The work-mans skill, I frankly would bestowe
Vpon my friends, O Censorine. I would
Give them faire tables garnished with gold,
In-layd with Ivory, on strong trestles set,
Th' high-priz'd rewards of valiant Greeks. Nor yet
Shouldst thou the worst have, if I did abound
With those things that Parrhasius have renown'd,
Or Scophas, to these present times; The one
Cunning in colours, th' other in hard stone,
To make a man, or god: But, this I want:
And of such ornaments thou hast no scant.
Thou verses lov'st: I verses can give well,
And of this gift the worthy praises tell.
No marble Statues with high titles wrought,
By which both breath, and life againe is brought
To noble Captaines after they are dead;
Nor Hanniball, with break-neck speed that fled
(When all his threats upon himselfe return'd)
Nor faith-less Carthage into cinders burn'd,
Doe more his noble acts commit to Fame
( Affrick subdu'd, that gaind a glorious name)
Then the Calabrian Muses. If they faile
To doe good deeds, it nought will thee availe.
Had not the Boyes name long since from us fled,
Whom Mars (when Ilia lost her maiden-head)
Begot, if envious silence could from us
Conceale the acts of worthy Romulus?
From Stygian rivers, Aeacus, set free
By powr-full skill of divine Poësie,
Is canoniz'd for ever to remaine
Amongst th' Heroës in th' Elysian Plaine.
Praise-worthy men the Muse forbids to die:
The Muse men blesseth with eternitie.
Great-hearted Hercules is so Ioues guest,
And frolicks with him at his wished feast.
The two Tindarian twins, so, safely keep
The Ships, though tost in billowes of the Deep.
So Mars (his temples circled with vine-bowes)
Grants mens requests, and binds them to their vowes.

Ad Lydiam. Lib. 3. Ode 9.

THE ARGVMENT.
Though late some iarre did them debar
From kindness us'd before:
Yet ioyntly now, they make a vow
Of love for ever-more.
Hor.
WHile lately Lydia thou didst love me,
When thy white neck I in mine arms (then blest) did fold,
And thou no Gallant grac't above me,
I then the Persian King more happy was inrould.
Lyd.
While Horace thine affections flame
Was firme, and Lydia thou then Chloë 'steemd not less,
Thy Lydia then, of no meane fame,
I liv'd more honor'd then the Roman Emperess.
Hor.
Now Thracian Chlo' has my heart sure,
That sweetly bears a part in prick-song, and can play:
For whom I would deaths paine indure,
If so the Dest'nies would put off her dying day.
Lyd.
Kinde Calais, and me Love so
Heats with his mutuall fire, dispersing clouds of strife,
That twice I death would undergo
If for my Boy I could renew his lease of life.
Hor.
[Page 15]
What if old Love to us wing make,
And us now severd, in still lasting links do binde?
If gold-haird Chloë I forsake,
And Lydia my door ne'r shut against her finde?
Lyd.
Though he be fairer then a starre,
Thou lighter then the cork that still doth floting lie,
And angrier then enrag'd Seas farre;
I love with thee to live, with thee I wish to die.

Eadem aliter.

THE ARGVMENT.
In one state they can never stay,
Whom Cupids toyes intangle:
What now they chuse, they straight refuse
Still fickle and new-fangle.
Hor.
WHen I enioy'd thee without check,
And none more welcome did embrace
The snowie treasure of thy neck,
The Persian Monarke gave me place.
Lyd.
While thou lov'd not another more,
Nor Chloë bare away the bell
From Lydia renownd before,
I Roman Ilia did excell.
Hor.
[Page 16]
Chloë, my Mistris, is of Thrace,
Whose warbling voyce by skill is led:
For whom I would see Death's pale face,
If she might live when I am dead.
Lyd.
Now Calais is my hearts delight.
He answers me with love againe:
For whom I twice with Death would fight,
If he my halfe-selfe might remaine.
Hor.
What if sweet Venus doe revive,
And true-loues-knot between us tie?
If from my thoughts faire Chlo' I drive,
If my doore ope when Lydia 's nie?
Lyd.
Though he then stars be fairer farre,
Thou angrier then the raging Seas
When 'gainst the sturdy rocks they warre:
With thee I'll live and end my dayes.

Eadem paulo fusius.

THE ARGVMENT.
The storme now spent of discontent
(If Lovers words be true)
The bonds againe (still to remaine)
Of loue we will renew.
WHen I had scal'd, and did possesse
The happy Fortress of thy love,
And all assaylants comfortless
Tir'd with long siege did thence remove;
In Fortunes lap, who then, but I,
By Venus luld-asleep did lie?
Lyd.
While thou this lovely fort kept well,
And thy affections did not range,
Nor 'gainst thee oft made vowes rebell,
Nor Lydia did for Chloë change,
No Princesse was more blest in earth,
I then did draw most happy breath.
Hor.
Now Thracian Chloë hath the raines
Of my affection in her hands,
Skilfull in Musicks sweetest straines,
And well to play she understands:
For whom I would breathe out my last,
If she might live when my life 's past.
Lyd.
Well featur'd Calaïs is my ioy:
He hath possession of my heart:
He sets me free from all annoy:
He love for loue doth still impart:
For him I twice would death endure,
If him long life it might procure.
Hor.
What are our iarres if Venus smile,
And (cunning) with her grace-full traine,
Our mindes distracted reconcile,
And binde us in a stedfast chaine?
If from my house faire Chlo' I reave,
That it my Lydia may receiue?
Lyd.
Though he in beauty farre excell
The stars, the fairest youth alive:
And thou unconstant be, and fell,
As waves against the windes that strive;
With thee I would in life remaine,
With thee I death would intertaine.

Iulius Scaliger so extolleth this Ode, and the next fol­lowing, that I assaid to translate this, three waies; desirous that one of them may give content. His words are these:

Inter caeteras, duas animadverti, quibus ne Ambrosiam quidē, aut Nectar dulciora putem. Altera 3, 4. lib. Altera 9. tertij, Do­nec gratus eram, &c. Quarum similes malim à me compositas, quam Pithonicarum multas Pindari: quarum similes malo compo­suisse, quam essetotius Taraconensis Rex.

Ad Melpomenen. Lib. 4. Ode 3.

THE ARGVMENT.
Whose birth the Mase doth not refuse
To grace with friendly eye,
Shall glory gaine, by the sweet veine
Of divine Poësie.
WHose birth Melpomeney
Thou smiling look'st upon,
No toyle in Isthmos him can make
A famous Champion.
No stately Steeds shall draw,
Contending for the prize,
His conquering Charet going on
With ioyfull shouts and cryes.
Nor good successe in warre,
To th' Capitoll him brings
Adornd with bayes, because the threats
He batterd of proud Kings.
But waters, that their course
By fertill Tiber take,
And woods with leaves thick-clad shall him
Renownd by verses make.
The Gallants of great Rome
Amongst the crue recite me
Of lovely Poëts: Envie now,
With venim split, less bites me.
O Muse, that guid'st the strings
Of the sweet warbling Lute:
O thou that if thou wilt canst give
Swans notes to fishes mute;
It's thy free gift, that me
Her Poët Rome doth call:
It's by thee that I breath, and please,
If ought I please at all.

Laudes rei rusticae. Epod. 2.

THE ARGVMENT.
He many wayes the life doth praise,
That men ith' countrey finde:
Amongst the rest, he likes that best
For quietnes of minde.
HEe's blest, from City turmoyls free
(As whilome men were wont to be)
His Sire-less land with his owne steers
That plowes, and Vsurers ne'r feares.
Alarums fierce him doe not raise,
Nor trembles he at th' angry Seas:
He the proud gates of great men flees.
To Lawyers he creeps not with fees;
But to the youthfull Vine doth wed
The Poplar with his stately head,
Or else dead branches off doth cut,
And better in their roome doth put.
Or in the winding valley he,
Sees where his heads of cattell be;
Or hony layes up safe to keep
In pots, or sheares his feeble sheep:
Or when Autumnus head is crownd
With apples ripe in each field found,
How glad's he peares he graft to pull,
Or grapes of pleasant liquor full,
With which he Priape thee rewards,
Or Sylvan that the fields regards?
Now under th' aged Oke he'll rest,
Now on the grass, as he likes best.
Meane while from hils the waters fling,
And in the woods the birds doe sing,
The bubbling fountains murmurings make,
And him invite a nap to to take.
But, when sharp winter cold doth blowe
Ith' thundring ayre with sleet and snowe,
With dogs he drives the eager Bore
Into the toyles prepar'd before;
Or stretches forth his nets on stakes,
With which the greedy Thrush he takes,
The farre-come Crane, or fear-full Hare
(His pains sweet pay) he doth insnare.
Thus busi'd, who doth not forget
The cares that lazie Lovers fret?
But if his modest wife part beare
In guiding th' house and children dear
(As Sabines and the sun-burnt wife
Of sterne Apulia led their life)
And sacred fire of dry wood burne
Against her Good-man home returne:
If the milch Yewes to Fold she bring,
And milking them doe something sing,
And draw forth wine, and spread the boord
With th' unbought cates the Farms affoord,
No Leverine shell-fish more likes me,
Nor Bret, nor dainty Golden-eye,
In Eastern Seas if any tost
A storm doe drive upon our Coast.
I love not more an Affrick hen,
Nor the Iönian Attagen,
Then Olives ripe, that gathered be
From fattest branches of the tree;
Or Rheubarb that doth love the field,
Or Mallowes that good physick yeeld,
Or Lamb slain at the Land-marks feast,
Or Kid from the Wolves iawes releast.
Thus feasting, how much doth't him good
To see his full-fed flocks home scud?
To see, with necks faint, drouping how
The Oxen draw the turnd-up plow?
And Hindes; the swarme rich men desire,
Beaking themselves before the fire?
The Vsurer Alphëus (this said)
A countrey life then needs would lead:
Ith' Ides his mony forth, cald-in;
Ith' Calends it layes out agen.

This Ode following, came unto my hands under the name of M r. Ben. Iohnson: which (for the happy imitation of Horace) I have also published.

Ad Authorem.

THE ARGVMENT.
Till his Sire true doe claim his due,
This Infant I doe cherish:
Though without name, it were a shame
It should in darknes perish.
REmember, when blinde Fortune knits her brow,
Thy minde be not deiected over-lowe:
Nor let thy thoughts too insolently swell,
Though all thy hopes doe prosper ne'r so well.
For, drink thy teares, with sorrow still opprest,
Or taste pure wine, secure and ever blest,
In those remote, and pleasant shady fields
Where stately Pine and Poplar shadow yeelds,
Or circling streames that warble, passing by;
All will not help, sweet friend: For, thou must die.
The house, thou hast, thou once must leave behind thee,
And those sweet babes thou often kissest kindly:
And when th' hast gotten all the wealth thou can,
Thy paines is taken for another man.
Alas! what poor advantage doth it bring,
To boast thy selfe descended of a King!
When those, that haue no house to hide their heads,
Finde in their grave as warm and easie beds.

Ad Torquatum. Li. 4. Od. 7.

THE ARGVMENT.
Goods got with care, we should not spare,
But spend them merily:
It then best fits, while time permits;
Which soon us hence will carry.
THe snowes are fled, the fields are clad with grasse,
And leaves trees prank:
Times change, and floods decreasing pass
Not their know'n bank.
The Graces, with the Nymphs nak't on the strand,
The Measures sweetly dance, hand ioynd in hand.
The Yeare and Night, that cancels the fair day,
Shewes we must die:
Cold by the Spring, the Spring is driven away
By Summer nie:
Summer to Autumne yeelds, that pours forth graine:
Then barren Winter takes his roome againe.
Yet the swift Moones their losses soon repaire:
But, when we shall
Come where good Anchus and Aeneas are,
To dust we fall.
How know'st thou, whether the great gods will give
Thee one day longer in the world to live?
Thy friendly gifts the clutches scape alone
Of thy glad heire.
When thou iust Minos doome hast undergone
(Layd on the beere)
Nor thy high birth ( Torquatus) nor thy wit,
Nor piety thee thence will ever quit.
Diana, Patroness of chastitie,
Could not recall
Hyppolitus, that in dark vaults did lie
Of Pluto's hall:
Nor Theseus the infernall chains could rend,
That captive held Pyrithous, his friend.

Ad Chloen. Lib. 1. Ode 23.

THE ARGVMENT.
That there's no cause, from Cupids lawes
Why Chloë free should sit;
For Hymens rites, and sweet delights,
Since shee's already fit.
THou shunn'st me, Chloë; like the Fawn
Missing her mother in the Lawn,
That trips to th' hills, in feare
Of every blast and breare.
For, whether windes amongst leaves rustle,
Or Lizards in the brambles bustle,
Shee trembles at the hart,
And quakes in every part.
I come not Tiger-like to ill thee,
Or as a Lion fierce to kill thee:
Still follow not thy mother,
Now fitter for another.

Ad Aristium Fuscum. Lib. 1. Ode. 22.

THE ARGVMENT.
If thou, within, doe feele no sinne,
That tortureth thy minde,
Thou maist from thence a sure defence
Against all dangers finde.
AN upright man, and honest liver
(O Fuscus) needs nor bowe, nor speares
Of the black Moore, nor yet the quiver
He full of poysoned arrowes weares;
Whether through Circes scalding Sands,
Or craggy Caucasus, he goe,
Or places where through many Lands
Hydaspes streams doe gently flowe.
For, in the Sabine wood while I
Of Lalage sung without dread,
And rom'd with care-less liberty,
A Wolf from me unarmed fled;
An hideous beast: whose like ith' groves
Of warlike Daunia doth not dwell;
Nor in Morisco's Desarts roves
The dry-nurse of the Lions fell.
Ith' dull fields set me, where no tree
Releeved is with gentle aire;
That ne'r from clouds, and mists is free,
But still doth angry tempests beare.
Vnder the glorious chaire me set,
Whence Phoebus mounting up on high,
The earth with burning rayes doth beat,
And dwellings unto men deny;
I Lalagen will love the whiles,
That sweetly speakes, and sweetly smiles.

Lib. 1. Ode 26. Ad Lamiam.

THE ARGVMENT.
He doth declare, that those, which are
Vnto the Muses kinde,
Doe ease their griefe, and finde relief
From Passions of the minde.
I, Of the Muses lov'd, sad Care and Feare
Will to the stubborn windes commit to beare
Into the Cretian Seas, secure alone
Of tidings from the Northren coast that's blown
Of some King there, that's awfull for his might;
Or what so Tyridates doth affright.
O gentle Muse, that lov'st the fountaines cleare,
Fair fresh flowers gather, springing here and there:
And garlands for my dearest Lamia make:
My praise without thee no effect can take.
Thee and thy Sisters it becometh well
With Lesbian Harp, and Songs, his praise to tell.

Lib. 3. Ode 30.

THE ARGVMENT.
That more his name is rais'd by Fame,
For Lyrick Poësie,
Than Kings that raise Pyramides,
For lasting memory.
A Work I ended have, which brass will far out-weare,
The En­glish (as the first) answereth the Latin in lines & syllables.
And 's higher thā the stately piles that Kings up-rear;
Which neither rating Rain, nor boystrous Northren blast,
Nor progress of years numberless, e'r down shall cast:
On wich ne'r wingd-foot Time shall any vantage have.
I wholly shall not die. My better part, the grave
Shall not inclose. My fame, with Ages following, shall
Growe alwayes green, whiles to the sacred Capitoll
The Priest with silent Vestall virgins up shall goe.
It will be told, where raging Aufidus doth flowe,
And poor in water where old Daunus forth doth showe
His sun-burnt face to people rude, that I (from lowe
Estate advanc't) was he that first of all did suit
Aeolian Songs and Sonnets to a Roman Lute:
Be proud, Melpomene, of this deserved praise,
And binde my temples willingly with Delphian Bayes.
FINIS.
EPIGRAMMES, EPITAPHE …

EPIGRAMMES, EPITAPHES, ANA­GRAMMES, And other Poems of diuers subiects; in Latine and English.

COR VNVM VIA VNA

LONDON, Printed by H. L. for Richard Moore; and are to be solde at his Shop in Saint Dunstans Church-yard, in Fleet­street. 1621.

AD ORNATISSIMVM virum, D. GEORGIVM CALVERT, Equitem auratum, & Regiae Majestatis à Secretis, & Consilijs.

EXcerptes varijs exhortis undique flores,
Naribus afflantes qui placuere meis,
Eque meo paucos collectos nuper agello
Connexósque, unum in do tibi fasciculum:
Queîs si laeta tui spiraverit aura favoris
(Ambrosii quae illis roris ad instar erit)
Mista rosis noster calathis tibi lilia plenis
Hortus, & hyberno tempore, pulchra dabit.
Dignitatis tuae studiosissimus, IOH: ASHMORE.

A SPEECH, MADE TO the Kings Maiestie comming in his Progress to Rippon, the 15. of Aprill, 1617. In the Person of MERCVRIE.

HIgh Iove, with all the gods together met,
To see (great King) thy comming to this Town,
The casements large of heaven have open set,
And from their star-pav'd floors have sent me down,
Thee in their name to welcome to this place;
Which both thy Bountie, and thy Presence grace.
Young Phoebus, from his bright and radiant haire,
Such ioyfull light abroad here neuer shed
Since good King Adlestone of yore did reare
These stately piles with gold embelished;
Which after-times (miss-led) did rent asunder,
And at the last (alas!) were fir'd with thunder.
What Iliads of grief! what dole-full teen!
What Out-cries then were heard of young and old!
What Lamentation in the streets was seen,
As in this fear-full case they did behold
These holy things doom'd to the fire a prey?
But at a trice the Heaven his rage did stay.
For, in the Dest'nies rowles, that open were,
(Thrice sacred King of men) they found, that thou
These wofull ruines should againe up-reare,
And Royall gifts for aye on it bestowe:
Nor can we think how better they deserve
That build, then they from down-fals that prezerve.
No marvaile then, if every field and tree,
The windowes and the tops of houses too,
With people of all sorts replenisht be,
And where thou go'st if Nymphs sweet flowers do strowe.
From every place (good King) see how they run.
To feast their eyes; and cry, HEE'S com, HEE'S com.
Nor were the sluces of thy Bounty so
Set open to the Churches good alone:
But, it aboundantly did also flowe,
And to the Town by grace-full streams was show'n,
When (made a body Politique) they did rise
To Place, with Hutton's, York's, and Mallory's.
And though Pactolus, with his golden sands,
Be farre remote from places where they dwell:
Yet come they not (good King) with empty hands:
For, other gifts they bring which gold excell;
TRVE LOYALL HEARTS: which thou wilt not forsake.
Of Harvest small, the gods small hand-fuls take.
The gods aboue, thy loving Subiects here,
Thy sacred Person in protection take:
And so Adieu, to gods and men most deer;
Whom, in such Progresses, oft happy make:
And, by Heroïck deeds beseeming thee,
Make way to th' high tow'rs of Eternity.

These verses following, were then delivered to his Ma­iesty, and by him most graciously accepted.

Ad Potentissimū & Clementiss. Regem IACOBVM, Ecclesiae Collegiatae Rippo­nensis Restauratorē benigniss. auspicatissimo Maiestatis suae progressu Ripponam advenientem, 15. Aprilis 1617.

Ad Regem.
SIbonus est Superûm Rex Dispensator, ut illos
Terrestris curae non grave tangat onus;
Vivite tum coeli securè Numina: Talis
Oeconomus nobis haud datus antè fuit.
Angl.
If of the gods good Kings high STEWARDS be,
To ease them of the care of things belowe;
Then live secure, O heavenly Powrs: for we
So good a STEWARD ne'r before did knowe.
Ecclesiae Ripponen: Prosop.
Struxit Adelstonus: Danus destruxit: at Odo, et
Thurston, Pontifices, mî magis ampla dabant:
Rèxque (sacra accenso Iacobus pectore flammâ)
Sacrilegae reddit quae rapuere manus.
Angl.
King Adleston me built, Danes down did pull:
But Odo'nd Thurston, made me beautifull:
And (mov'd with zeale) King Iames doth now restore
What sacrilegious hands had rob'd before.
Altera eiusdem Prosop.
Me Danus miseram afflixit, Belloque potitus
Indigno Scotus vendidit (heu!) pretio:
Hijs sed fata dabant ut regnis Regia proles
Gentis commissa haec expiet (Ecce!) suae.
Angl.
The Dane me sackt, poor wretch, the Scot, o're-bold
In victory, unworthily me sold:
But, to both Realmes a Royall stem, by Fate,
His peoples faults (Beholde!) doth expiate.

These following, were added since.

Alia eiusdem Prosop.
Audijt Elizabetha meas Regina querelas:
Sed nihil auxilij (morte vetante) dedit.
Regis erat magni tantas fulcire ruinas:
Solus habes laudem hanc, Rex bone: solus habes.
Angl.
Queen Elsabeth oft my complaints did heare:
But she no help (by death prevented) gave me.
These ruines crav'd a great King them t' up-reare:
This praise thou hast alone, good King, to save me.
De Rumore falso, de Regis morte subitò sparso.
Fama per attonitam subitò cum spargeret Vrbem
Ante diem te (Rex magne) obijsse diem;
Indomito cuneti laxabant fraena dolori,
Et veluti vero in funere quisque gemit.
Heu, pater, exclamant, Patriae est extinctus: in illo
Extincta est populi luxque, decus que sui.
An quisquam meliùs rerum moderavit habenas?
Iustitiave prior, vel Pietate fuit?
Quisquam adeòvixit cum Maiestate benignus?
Regali miseros sustinuítve manu?
Heu! tantae nullus conscendit culmina laudis:
Talem nulla dabant saecula: nulla dabunt.
Vera quidem falsae sic famae filia fama est,
Quae mundo laudes exprimet usque tuas.
Angl.
When Fame (great King) did through this Citie flie,
And told how Thou too soon a death didst die;
All places paid to thee the wofull Rent
Of Tears, which from their grief-swoln eyes they sent.
The Father of our Countrey's dead, they cry,
And with him all our ioyes doe buried lie.
Who e'r the raines of kingdoms so did guide?
Whose Iustice ioynd with Mercy so is tride?
Who mildness so with Maiesty hath sorted?
Or with his kingly hand the wrongd supported?
None e'r (alas!) with such high praise did live.
No Age hath given one like him: none shall give.
So, false Report hath true Report brought forth,
Which still shall witness to the world thy worth.
De Eodem.
Cur populi, procerumque pias sic verberataures
Fama per indignas te cecidisse manus?
Scilicet, hoc meditans, ut vivus cernere possis,
Quae tibi defuncto fama superstes erit.
Angl.
Wherefore did Fame this wofull Newes forth spread,
That thou (our Soveraigne) by curst hands wast dead?
Sure, to this end; that thou alive might see,
When thou art gone, what fame will follow thee.

Ad CAROLVM, Augustissimum Walliae Principem.

Anagr.
    • STEVARDVS.
    • EST ARDVVS.
    • STEWARDVS.
    • ARDVVS ES TV.
Aliud.
    • CHAROLVS STEVARDVS.
    • CHARVS ET ARDVVS SOL.
EPIGRAM.
ARDVVS orbe suo SOL, luce ET CHARVS uterque est: Lucet ut Ille Polo, luceat hicque Solo.
Of the Prince his Imprese. Ic Dien. I serve.
Natus ad Imperij diadema, EGO SERVIO, Princeps.
Qui bene non servit, non reget ille bene.
Angl.
I SERVE, the Royall Scepter born to sway.
Hee'll ne'r rule well, that well did not obey.
Ad Pictorem.
Pingere si nostri Pictor vis Principis ora,
MAIESTAS vultu sit venerandasuo.
Insideat labijs PITHO, frontíque MINERVA:
MANSVETVDO suis sit generosagenis.
Laeta suos circumvolitet VICTORIA crines:
Et CHARITVM ex oculis emicet alma cohors.
Scandere si neque as tanta ad fastigia, dicas;
NATVRAE (ah!) Dominae cedit ut ARTIS opus!
Angl.
If thou our Prince set forth in colours fit,
Let MAIESTIE (inthron'd) in 's Countenance sit.
On 's lips let PITHO, on 's brows let PALLAS rest.
Let MILDNES be his rosie cheeks chief Guest.
Let ioyfull VICTORIE o'r his locks hover.
Let his eye-lids the GRACES grace discover.
But, if thy Skill this reach not, say; Alas,
How farre doth NATVRE, ART (her Page) surpass!

To the most Beautifull and Ʋertuous Princess, the Lady ELISABETH.

Anagr.
  • ELISABETA STVARTA.
    Written before her mariage.
  • TE BEAT ARA SALVTIS.
Carmen Heroicum ex vtrísque;
Te beat Ara salutis, ELISABETA STVARTA.
Epigr. de eodem Anagrammate.
Virginis intactae soboles nostrae Ara Salutis
Te Beat, & semper (Regia virgo) beet.
Angl.
The Virgins birth (O Royall Maid) Gods Son,
For ever bless thee, as he hath begun.
Ad eandem sereniss. Heroinam.
Dia cohors Charitum per te numerosior una est:
Vna tenes quae sunt omnia pulchra trium.
Angl.
Thou to the Graces number addest one:
But, all their vertues are in thee alone.

Ad Illustrissimum Dominum, GEOR­GIVM VILLIERS, Marchionem Buc­kinghamiae Amplissimum.

Non mores faciles, laetae non frontis honores,
Ingenij aut Genij non decus omne tui:
Externas tibi nec Iuveni data fama per or as,
Quae reducem pennis te fovet alma suis:
Fortunae comitata bonis non inclyta virtus,
Nec tua in Aönios munera grata choros,
Ad te oculos, animosque trahit mirant [...]um, & in albo
Verè nobilium nomen habere dedit.
Scire cupis quid sit? (verborum ambage relictâ)
Haec uno pulchrè in Te omnia iuncta simul.
Angl.
Nor generous 'haviour, nor thy browes sweet Graces,
Nor MILDNES which thy GENIVS still imbraces:
Nor FAME, which thou didst finde in forain Lands,
And with her wings here fairely on thee fannes:
Nor vertues rare, with Fortunes gifts attended,
Nor bountie to the Muses so commended,
To thee mens eyes and hearts drawes, and ith' scrowle
Of true Nobilitie doth thee inrowle:
But, what it is, soon wouldst thou understand?
All these, in Thee alone, ioyn'd hand in hand.

To the same right Honourable, GEORGE, Marquess of Buckingham, upon the Accession of his Office of the Admiralty. Ex Latino.

SIng Iö. Buckingham doth Seas controwle:
He Horses rules, and Waves that proudly rowle.
So, 'mongst the gods, Neptune, that bravely glides
Through Crystall streames, courageous Horses guides.
Then, let none think this double Powr unfit;
Sith even the gods, themselves, have practiz'd it.
Idem aliter.
Let's Iö's sing, till th' Eccho's ring;
For, Buckingham oth' Seas
Is Gen'rall: He doth Horses free,
And struggling Waves appease.
So, 'mongst gods high in Maiestie,
He, that with triple Mace
The Sea with waves rules when it raves,
Guides Horses swift in chase.
Let none amiss then think it is,
That double powr is given
To one to beare; since to us here
Th' example comes from Heaven.
Idem paulò fusiùs.
Iö. A thousand Mermaids dance oth' Maine;
Their Vice-Roy Buckingham to entertaine.
So, he, that the proud-neighing Horse commands,
Is Generall in Thetis liquid lawnds.
Likewise, 'mongst gods that are of highest place,
Saphir-hewd Neptune, with his aw-full Mace,
The mutinous waves, that subiécts to his lawes,
Makes sturdy steeds take bits in foaming iawes.
Then, let no Cynick with his furrowed brow
Grudge at this double power that 's given him now;
Since, from the gods that raigne in greatest state,
We have this pattern given to imitate.

To the Right honourable, EDMVND, Lord Sheffield, after his Recovery from a dangerous sickness.

WHen sickness late Heroïck Sheffield prest,
Pallas was sick, and Mavors wisht to die:
Pallas, whom still he harbourd in his breast;
And Mars, who alwayes rais'd his thoughts on high.
And if that death had taken him away,
Mavors, and Pallas, both, had dy'd that day.
Which Atropos, who came with murthering knife,
Perceiving, cast the same out of her hand;
And did refuse to cut his line of life
Whose worthy praise is spread by Sea and Land;
And said; Nay live: yea, and for ever live.
So ioy to men, and life to gods I give.
In Bubbum.
The Sermon Bub (whatsoe'r the Preachers doe)
Into three parts divides; and then sleeps two.
In Gervasium.
A Double Gelding Gervase did provide,
That he and's wife to see their friends might ride.
And he a double Gelding prov'd indeed:
For suddenly hee fell so to his speed,
That both alight, with blowes and threats among:
He leads him; and his wife drives him along.

To the Right Honourable, Sir FRANCIS BACONE, Knight, Lord High Chancelor of ENGLAND.

Anagr.
  • BACONE.
  • BEACON.
Thy Vertuous Name, and Office, ioyne with Fate,
To make thee the bright BEACON of the State.
Epithaphium Radulphi Simson, Ecclesiae Collegiatae Rippon. Choristae.
Spes Patris alma sui, suavis luscinia, cuius
Hac sacra solita est vox resonare domo,
Ascitus superis paret, mundóque supremum
( Ah) NVNC DIMITTIS deficienscecinit.
Ec iam virginea redimitus tempora lauro,
Te Deum Divis, atque Aleluia canit.
Angl.
His Parents hope, the quires shrill Nightingall,
With whose sweet voyce these sacred wals oft rung,
Summond to th' Saints, and answering at first call,
His NVNC DIMTLIS to the world hath sung;
And, crownd 'mongst Virgins, with eternall Bayes,
TE DEVM sings, with Aleluïah's.

To Master Aldebrough Esquire.

Anagr.
  • ARTHVRE ALDEBROVGH.
  • THOV EVER GLAD HARBOR.
Epigr. de eodem.
Not weary to doe well, THOV dost persever;
And a GLAD HARBOR to thy friends art EVER.
Aliud.
  • ARTVRVS ALDEBROGVS.
  • SVRGIT LABOR ARDVVS.
Epigram.
Turpe viro torpor. SVRGIT LABOR ARDVVS. Ille
Quot premit aerumnis! Hic quot ad astra vehit!
Angl.
Sloth for a man unfitting is.
High labour up doth rise.
How many hath that spoyld; and this
Aduanc't above the skies!

To the Right Worshipfull, Sir EDWARD MOSLEY, Knight, Attorney of his Maiesties Court of the Dutchie of LAN­CASTER.

This NOTHING take of him, that owes to Thee
All things; and NOTHING, if it greater bee.
IAnus is come; and now begins to call
For gifts, due at his first dayes Festivall:
But, gifts to him I none can finde to bring:
What? Are the sluces of the Thespian spring
So shut up? Are my wits so in the wane,
That the old Porter of the year, againe
Returning, should me emptie handed see?
I rather that, which no where found may be,
In wayes before unknown will seek: and, Lo,
From place to place by wandring to and fro,
My Muse hath NOTHING found. This Gift take well.
Nothing doth pearle, Nothing doth gold, excell.
This therefore with a friendly eye beholde:
A new thing 's heere; which none before have tolde.
The Latin and Greek Poëts did rehearse
All other things in their yet-living Verse:
Nothing the Greeks and Latins left unsaid.
Where-soe'r faire Ceres in the fields doth spread
Her Plentie-bringing hands from Heaven's towrs,
Or olde Oceanus (from his watry bowrs)
The broad ball of the Earth encloseth round,
Nothing 's beginning or end is not found.
Nothing 's immortall: Nothing, on all sides,
Still in the height of happiness abides.
But, if from hence we prove the divine praise,
Shall we not Altars then unto it raise?
Nothing 's more pleasant than the cheerfull light.
Nothing with beauty more allures the sight,
Then a well watred garden in the Spring.
Nothing, than meadowes, is more flourishing.
Nothing is milder then the Southern winde.
In hurly-burlies, Nothing rest doth finde.
Nothing is iust in Peace. Nothing holdes faith
In Courtiers. And (as Tibullus saith)
He happy is, that Nothing hath. For, he
Feares not the traps of wily Treacherie.
He feares not scar-fires that great Towns lay waste:
Nor he, by Theeves,
or Robbers, is agast:
Nor he, in carefull Sutes, his wit doth waste.
And Zeno's Wiseman, that doth so subiect
All things to Fate, Nothing doth not neglect:
H' admireth Nothing: Nothing he desires:
And the Socratian but to this aspires,
Nothing to knowe; which now's sought busily:
And boyes ith' schoole learne Nothing willingly,
Because to Wealth and Honour it doth bring.
Knowe Nothing, and thou then shalt know the thing
Which with a NO-SAY, eye-like, dy'd in graine,
Is in the top of learnd Pythagoras Beane.
Mercurialists, the bowels of the earth
That rent, and with fire-belching bellows breath
Smelt metalls, and their Patrimonies mingle
With Sulphure, Mercurie, and smoaky Ingle,
Instant upon their secret work in holes,
Forc't in their Fornaces with hell-black coales,
At last with costly loss searching each creek
Finde Nothing; and yet, Nothing found, still seek.
No Pearch can measure this in th' Artists hand:
Nor he, the number of the Lybian sand
That knowes, can number it. Nothing, alone,
Is to Minerva and Apollo 'nknowne.
Nothing, it selfe above the Stars up-reares:
Nothing is higher then the glorious Spheares.
And though all ornaments of Wit You have
(Searching things hid in Natures secret Cave)
And gracefull speech (which when you doo advance,
He was Commissio­ner from his Maiesty touching the Forrest of Knars­brough.
Might make whole Forrests after you to dance
The Measures) and grave Wisdome (which doth bring
You to imployment, from our gracious King,
In matters of great Consequence) yet you
(Oh! give me leave to speak the thing that's true,
And all that know you, needs must to me grant)
Doe seem of Nothing to be ignorant.
Yet Nothing than the glorious Sun-beame's lighter:
And Nothing then the glowing fire is brighter:
Nothing doth fit each Fancie. Adde this too,
Nothing's more subtle than the clouted-shoo.
Touch Nothing: and thou then wilt surely say,
Without a body Nothing touch we may:
Nothing behold: and thou wilt say, that wee
Can Nothing without help of Colour see.
Without a Voyce, it speaks, and heares; and flyes
Without Wings: Nothing walketh without Thies.
Without a Place, Nothing to goe is able.
Than Physick, Nothing is more profitable.
Then, try not the Thessalian spels, or reeles,
When the Idalian dart thy breast, pearc't, feeles;
Nor Dictean weeds, from Ida's top tane, prove.
Nothing doth cure the wounds of cruell Loue.
And though thee Charon o'r his sad flood carry,
Nothing will thee forbid there still to tarry.
Nothing th' infernall King doth pacifie,
And bends the distafs of hard Destinie.
The Titans brood, in fields Phlegreian drownd,
Than stroake of Thunder Nothing mightier found.
Nothing without the worlds great wals doth stray.
The gods feare Nothing. Why then dost thou stay,
My Muse, so long? Than Vertue Nothing's better:
And (to conclude) Nothing than Iove is greater.
But, now these subtle Trifles time bids end;
Lest, if in too much paper I commend
My Verses, unto you of Nothing sent,
They might more Weariness bring, than Content.

To M r. MILES MOODY, of an Epitaph which he wrote of the death of his vertuous and loving wife, Elisabeth, daughter to M r. William Fawcet, Alderman of Rippon.

ANd doth the Torrent of thy long-pent Griefe
At last breake through the flood-gates of thy woe;
That in a streame of teares findes some reliefe,
Which from thy heart o'r-charg'd with Sorrow flowe?
Nor can I blame thee, that (so left alone)
The loss thou of thy dearest doth bemone;
Like the true Turtle, that his lovely mate
(As she is busie feeding of her young)
Beholds oth' sudden (O ungentle Fate!)
With a wreath'd Serpent slily creeping stung;
Whose poyson shed it selfe int' ev'ry part,
And ceased not till it had seiz'd her hart.
Her Minde devout, her Life was harmless led:
To parents, children, and to thee most dear.
With hope of Ioy, she (on her dying bed)
Vndanted, intertain'd Death drawing neare.
In Earth, she by these vertues was commended:
These were the staires by which she Heaven ascended.
Then serve a Supersede as on thy Woe:
She will be absent from thee but a while.
Meanewhile, the houres, that lingring seem too slowe,
Thou with her lively pictures maist beguile.
The time's at hand, when (ioynd in Ioyes for ever)
Nor Time, nor Death, shall powr have you to sever.

An Epitaph upon the death of ELISABETH BRIGGES, Daughter to the discreet Matron and Widow, Bettrice Brigges.

COme Virgins, come: Why doe you linger so,
With streams of tears that frō your swoln eys showr?
Her Grave with Roses and with Lillies strowe,
That of your Garland was the fairest Flowr.
Lillies and Roses soon decay and perish,
While bitter Worm-wood and sharp Nettles flourish.
Your Garlands breake: henceforth no garlands beare:
Their fading doth your fading state expresse.
For Garlands, deadly Yeugh and Elder weare,
And branches of the saddest Cyparesse.
Lillies and Roses, &c.
Ye Holly-hocks, why hold you downe your heads?
And Violets, why pine you so away?
Because (alas!) that shee from you is fled,
That drest you, and hath tane her leaue for aye?
Lillies and Roses, &c.
O Hymen, why didst thou pale Death permit,
Within thy Right, to set his hate-full feet;
And take her, that for thy sweet Rites was fit;
For Bridals, that gave her a Winding-sheet?
Lilies and Roses, &c.
When Death arrested her, with his sad Mace,
And clowdy Mists her Senses over-spread,
Her native favour he could not disgrace;
Which was compos'd of purest white and red.
Lillies and roses, &c.
All, that thy sweet conditions did knowe,
Desired, that their lives they so might spend:
And all, that from this life did see thee goe,
Desired that their lives they might so end.
Lillies and Roses soone decay and perish,
While bitter Worm-wood and sharp Nettles flourish.

To Sir IOHN MALLORY, Knight, after his Recovery from a great Sickness.

OF late, when Sickness on thy limbs did seise,
Which Physicks skill could nothing help or ease,
And with an Habeas Corpus Death was prest,
With Non Omittas, ready theet' arrest;
Each corner of thy house was fild with Wo,
And sense-distracting Grief ran to and fro.
Which heard, the Cry oth'Poor about thy gates,
So shak't the doors of th'Adamantine Fates,
That by their Page th'a Supersede as sent
To Death, to shew th'had altered their intent.
For, if we take him, one of them did say,
How many will with hunger pine away!
In Matildam.
When Maud hath tane deep moultar of the Can,
She tels long stories of her dead Good-man:
How kinde he was to her at bed and boord;
And that he never gave her angry word.
Twixt every Cup she talks, no Healths forbears;
Which her resolves, like Niobé, to Tears:
Then sighes she, and drinks off another Cup
(For, Sorrow's dry.) then suddenly gets-up
(Nor can her Gossips cause her longer stay)
And t'her dear husbands Grave she takes the way:
And thither come (crossing her selfe) doth weep;
Then wrings her hands, kneels down, and fals asleep.

To the vertuous, and fairely spreading Buds of Beautie, Mistris Marie, Francis, and Ioane Metcalf, daughters of Sir Thomas Metcalf, Knight, he dedicates these Roses.

Ex Ausonio.
ITh' Spring, the Day, by fair Aurora led,
Breath'd cooly; yet the Sense with pleasure fed:
Quick Aire before the Fastern Steeds did run,
Advising to prevent the scorching Sun.
Then rov'd I in a garden by a spring;
Where to delight me fitted every thing.
A candie Pearle upon each grass-pile hung:
Nor sparingly Pearles on the hearbs were flung:
On cawles of Cobweb-lawne, glaz'd spangles plaid;
Which full of heavenly liquor down-ward swaid.
I saw the Rose-beds, with trim dressings proud;
Which till faire Day a deawie vaile did shrowd.
Ith'thickets Gems were scattered here and there:
Which hide themselves when Phoebus rayes appeare.
Whether the Rose Auror', or she hath dy'd
The Rose with maidens-blush, t's not yet try'd.
Their Deaw, their Colour, and their Morn is one:
And both from Venus have protection.
Perhaps their savour's one: Ith'aire, That's spent.
This, neerer us, hath a farre sweeter sent.
One Goddess guides the Star, and the Flowre, too:
And clad in Scarlet liveries, both goe.
Nor suddenly the branches of the Rose
In equall distances themselves disclose.
This bravely weares a Periwig on her head,
Her pretty Leaves are all with Purple spread.
From her square Base she climbs, and up ascendeth;
And (pointed with a Rubie-button) bendeth.
Her plaited Robes this gathers in the top,
Ready to open now her silken Shop.
Her smiling Treasures then she sheweth plaine,
And seeds of Saffron, which there safe remaine.
Shee that but now her golden Leaves did brandish,
Now pale (alas!) left of her Leaves doth languish.
I mus'd, to see their Beauty did not stay;
And, in their Cradle, that their Hairs grew gray.
Even while I speake, see how their Glory Sheds,
And how their Punick-pride the Ground o'r-spreads.
Such Shapes, such Births, and divers Changes growne
In one day, are in one day overthrowne.
We blame thee, Nature, that Flowrs soon decay:
Thou onely shew'st them, then tak'st them away.
The age of Roses but one day doth last:
Which being gon, their youthfull time is past.
Her, whom now born the Sun saw rising red,
Setting, he fainting sees on her Death-bed:
Yet her Short Life required is, that she
Lives ever in her faire Posteritie.
Pull Roses, Virgins, while the time doth last:
And think how soon your Rose-time will be past.

To M r. WILLIAM MALLORY, and his deare brother IOHN, the generous and grace­full children of M r. WILLIAM MAL­LORY, Esquire.

SEe here the Map of humane Miserie,
The Labyrinth that you are entring to,
Full of cross-waies of ambiguitie
Like to Maeander running to and fro:
Here had you need of Ariadneys clue;
Which in all doubts will aide and succor you.
By help of it, the Minotaur you 'll slay
(A Monster bred of Lust and lewd Desire).
And, being rid of that perplexed way,
To sweet repose of minde you 'll thence retire.
Those, that to kill this Monster doe not strive,
Shall (peece-meal) be devour'd of him alive.
And may not I, the Palinurus now
That at the Helm in a calm River sit,
Of your lancht Frigot, tell what th' heavens foreshowe?
That happy Windes shall still attend on it;
And that great Neptune, with his azure traine,
Will steer it, till the happy Port it gaine.

Ausonius, ex graeco, de ambiguitate eligendae vitae. Edyl. 15. begining thus;

Quod vitae sectaboriter, &c.
WHat kinde of life may I desire as best,
If Courts of Iustice freed from Brawls ne'r rest?
If break-sleep Thoughts in private houses wun,
If home-Cares after weary Pilgrims run,
If to new losses Marchants be inur'd,
If Husbandmen, Want (not to be indur'd)
Forbids to loyter: if Toyle them o'r-throwes?
If Seas, by Ship-wrack, prove our deadly foes,
If Discontents attend a Bachlers life,
But more in vaine to watch a wanton Wife?
If Wars be bloody, if the sharking Arts
Of Vsurers, suck blood from poor-mens harts?
Each Age brings Cares: none like the present season.
Young Babes, yet sucking, Iudgement want and Reason.
Boyes it is hard within due bounds to keep:
And hare-braind Youth fall into dangers deep.
Fortune afflicteth men by cruell Wars,
By crafty fetches and revengefull Iarres,
By endless troubles linkt as in a Chaine,
Still to be chang'd for worse that doe remaine.
At last, Old-age, ill-wisht-for, on us growes,
And us a spoyle to all Diseases throwes.
We alwaies present things despise: tis seen,
That som have wisht, they gods had never been.
Iuturna cryeth-out, Why made he mee
Immortall? Why from Death's stroak am I free?
So unto Caucasus Prometheus ty'd
Forbare not but on Saturns sonne out-cry'd.
Nor ceased he even Iove himselfe by name
(Because he was exempt from death) to blame.
Behold the Vertues of the minde; and see
Hippolytus o'r-thrown by Modestie:
But, he that takes delight his life to staine
With Wantonness, or baits of Pleasures vaine,
Let him behold what punishment did fall
On lustfull Tereus, or Sardanapal.
The Carthage Wars bid treachery eschue.
Saguntum, that she kept her faith, might rue.
Live, and keep friendship still; this onely thing
The Pithagoreans did to ruine bring.
But, fearing it, Keep none: for this, alone,
Th' Athenians did uncivill Timon stone.
With inter-fering Cares, Mindes fraught dissent:
That, which now pleaseth, straight will not content.
Some Honours seek: which, had, they nought regard;
Who, where they might command, stand at Reward.
When this man is by favour raised high,
Hee's thrust into the mouth of pale Envie.
Still watch-full Cares goe with the Eloquent:
But unkembd Clowns do want life's Ornament.
Be thou a Patron, and defend th'accused;
Of Clyents Thankfulness is seldome used.
Be thou a Clyent, then thou must be sure,
Thy Patrons words, full of commands, t' endure.
To this man, Senators make sute and mone:
But, straight disgrac't GRIEF him attends alone.
Poor Old-age men despise. If Heirs thou want,
Of cheating Claw-backs thou shalt have no scant.
Be frugall, and a Niggard thou art nam'd:
Be lavish, then thou shalt be more defam'd.
If thou be forc't Adversitie to beare,
Then all things else will goe against the haire.
Then, with the best Greek Sentence, I agree;
Tis good, Not to be born; or Soon to die.

To M r. IOHN CAMEAGE.

Thou living, dost right well, to have
Remembrance of thy death and grave.
Anagr.
  • CAMEAGE.
  • AGE CAME.
Epigram. de eodem.
When perils I by Land and Sea had past,
AGE CAME, and Sommond me to death at last.
Epitaph.
QVae mihi prima dedit primis documenta sub annis,
Vrbs haec me tenuit, donec maturior aetas
Me varios hominum mores, & regna vocavit
Visere, nec rabidi vitavi vincula Turcae:
A queîs mirificè explicitus, non immemor artis
Typhi tuae incubuit pelago cum mortis imago,
Meque meosque ferè exhaustos ad littora fida
Christicolum adduxi: (summus Deus ille deorum
Mî nauclerus erat) reducem me patria multos
Post exa [...]tlatos terràque maríque labores
Excipiens, vocat intermissa ad munia vitae;
Et tandem placida hîc compôstus pace quiesco.
Angl.
This Citie, where to learn I first began,
Me breeding gave, till (growing to a man)
Strange fashions I and kingdoms longd to see;
Not did I scape the Turkish tyrannie.
From which delivered strangely (of thy Art,
O Typhis, that skilfull was in part)
Through raging Seas (guided by power divine)
To th' trustier shore of Christians, me and mine
I safely brought. Then, almost spent with toyle,
I came againe to see my Countrey-soyle:
Where to my former trade of life addrest,
At last I here in quiet peace doe rest.

Epitaphium D. STEPHANI PROCTER, Militis.

Absorptam tumidis navem prope fluctibus olim,
In portum docta dirigis ipse manu,
A Circes technis rabidaeque voragine Scyllae;
Dulcis ubi aeternùm est nunc tibi parta quies.
Angl.
Thy Ship, late tost from Coast to Coast,
Thou steerd ith' Port to rest,
From Circes charms and Scylla's harms;
Where thou art ever blest.
De Poculo. Ad G. N.
Pulchra tibi argenti labris enpocula mitto:
Candida purpure is iunge labella labris.
Haec te Nectareo saturabunt pocula succo:
Oscula tuque illis, Nectare digna dabis.
Angl.
With silver Lips this Cup to thee I send:
Which with thy rosie Lips allow to blend.
It will thee satisfie with Nectar sweet,
Sweeter then Nectar, when thy Lips it greet.
Aliud.
Aurea labra tibi; sunt huic argentea: mista
Sint haec, ut pulchris lilia pulchra rosis.
Ad M. T.
Tu surdo cantas, das pulchra emblemata caeco,
Indoctis cum das carmina docta viris.
Angl.
Thou Pictures shewes to th' blind, to th' deafe thou sings,
When to th' unlearn'd thou learned Poëms brings.

Reverendo in Christo Patri & D. IOH. KING, Episcopo Londinensi.

ORphea mirari cessent Acherontis ab undis
Ducentem Eurydicen dulcè sonante Lyra:
Aut Amphionio fundatas munere Thebas,
Dum tangit nervos artipotente manu:
Fluctibus aut dorso delphinis Ariona tutum,
Mulcet dum cytharae monstra marina melos:
Coelitus afflata hijs tua Regia Buccina praestat,
Terrenas mentes ducere docta Deo.
Angl.
Let men now cease of Orpheus Harp to tell,
Which brought his wife Eurydice from Hell;
Or how Amphion with his Lute did call
Both Stones and Trees to build the Theban wall;
Or how a Dolphin through the Seas did bring
Arion, hyr'd with his harmonious string.
Thy Kingly Trumpet, fild with heavenly breath,
Excels them, raising men to Heaven from Earth.

Sibi merito colendo D. IOANNI BENETO, Militi.

Anagr.
  • IOANNES BENETVS.
  • NONNE BEAT IESVS?
Epigram.
Vel tu, vel nemo est (Benedicte BENETE) beatus:
NONNE BEAT IESVS te, Benedicte? Beat.
Epigramma ad eundem.
Gratior est pulchro veniens si corpore virtus,
Cui non virtutis laus celebranda tuae?
Splendidior a facit quae si fortuna sequutrix,
Quis bene Fortunae dona locata neget?
Sed dedit haec Iesus, qui se dat: quo sine Formae,
Fortunae, atque Animi sunt Bona cuncta nihil.
Ad D. HIGGINS: cuius rogatu, sequens Epitaph. scripsi.
Ipse rogas (reverende) tuum que rogare, iubere est:
Hoc Gravitas, mira & Mansuetudo facit.
Haec rogat illa iubet: sic se amplectuntur, ut & tu
Iusta rogans iubeas, atque tubendo roges.
Epitaphium D. GVIL. TALENTIRE, Re­ctoris de Goldsbrough.
Tu bona (Talentire) tibi commissa talenta,
Condeb as sterili non malè cautus humo:
Reddebas Domino at fidus cum foenore seruus;
Et fidei pretium coelica regna tenes.
Angl.
The Talents, which thy God unto thee lent,
Thou hidst not, Talentire, nor lewdly spent;
But, as a Servant true restor'd with gaine;
And hast thy Faith's reward, in Heauen to raigne.
Ad D. GVIL. MALLORY, cum VIRGILIVM sibi auro pulchrè ornatum dederim.
Hoc (generose puer) tibi do; Maiora daturus,
Si non obstaret sors inimica mihi.
At tibi quod munus magno maius dare possim
Virgilio, cuius maxima fama viget?
Angl.
This gift (O generous childe) I give to thee,
That greater would, if Fortune favord me:
But, what gift greater may I to thee give,
Then Virgil great, whose greatest praise doth live?
Ad T. N.
Me debere tibi dixisti Epigramma: tuoque ut
Liber ab aere siem, mitto Epigramma tibi.
Angl.
Thou saist, I owe to thee an Epigram.
Take this: So, now out of thy debt I am.
Ad celeberrimum Poëtam, IOAN­NEM OWEN.
En: promissa tuus tandem calcaria mittit
Ashmorus, meritò motus amore tui;
Vt tibi, quem morum candor facit omnibus aequum,
Plectatur meritò si sit iniquus equus.
Epitaphium Reverendi viri, D. MOSIS FOWLER, primi Ecclesiae Collegiatae Ripponensis Decani.
Coelum, Terra, Homines de re rixantur eadem:
Fowlerum affirmat quilibet esse suum.
Mercurius coelo tantas componere lites,
Descendens, statim iussa paterna facit.
Coelo animam, terrae corpus mandavit habendum,
Ingenij nobis clara trophaea dedit.
Angl.
Heaven, Earth, and Men for one thing do contend:
Each one doth Fowler chalenge to be his.
Gods Messenger, from Heaven, this strife to end,
Descend's: And thus his will performed is.
His soule to Heaven, his body to the Grave,
To Vs the tropheis of his wit he gave.
Allusio in eiusdem nomen.
Caeca tibi haud nomen tribuit Sors Aucupis: Ille
Vt captat volucres, sic capis ipse viros.
Ambo indefessi vos retia tentitis: ambo
Docto pellaces mittitis ore sonos.
Intentos oriens pradae Sol cernit: & idem
Cernit Neptuni vespere regna petens.
Est tamen, inter vos, aliquid discriminis: Auceps
Tu captos servas mitis; at ille necat.
Angl.
Blinde Fortune hath not Fowler nam'd thee then.
For, as he Birds doth take, so thou tak'st men.
Not tir'd with toyl, both spread your Nets, and mend:
Heart-charming Tunes from skilfull Mouthes both send.
The Sun both busie sees, when he begins
His race, and when in Neptune's bowr's he Innes.
Yet this betwixt you both the difference makes:
Thou gently sav'st, He kils those that he takes.

Lamentatio CATHERINAE FOWLER, castae & integerrimae Matronae, in suo­rum morte.

Vnus erat coniux mihi, filius vnus, & vna
Gnata: sed, hos mihi tres, tres rapuere dies.
Quid deserta querar? voluit sic Trinus & Vnus;
Orba vt terrenis coelica sola sequar.

Ad D. Cradock, Ecclesiae Cathedralis Dunelmensis Cancellarium, de Patris sui morte.

Stemmatibus Proavûm clarus; sed clarior altâ
Virtute, & iunct a cum Pictate fide,
Cradocchus iacet hîc, coeleste ad lumen anhelans;
Lumina qui clausit mox fruitura Deo:
Invita quem morte manet cum foenore vita,
Per Christum coelo, per sobolémque solo.
Ad Eundem.
Munera cum miseris Dij dant mortalibus, illis
Copia non minor est: sic imitare Deos.
Sed nil dant, nisi sint votis, precibúsque vocati:
At tu, sponte tua; sic super asque Deos.
Ergo tibi surget nostro Ara ex pectore sacra;
Ʋnde tibi laudes, & pia thura dabo.
Angl.
Whenas the gods their Gifts on men bestowe,
Their Store's not less. The gods thou follow'st so.
But, they give not except long vows compell them:
Thou, of thy Self, un-askt: So thou excels them.
Therefore my Heart shall still the Altar be;
Whence, Praise and Thankfulness I'll yeeld to thee.
Pulvinulus.
Non me materies, Dominae sed sedula dextra,
Laudat: gratus eris si sibi grata facis.
Ad Martialem.
Pythagorae verum si dogma est, corpore casso,
Emigrare animam corpus in alterius;
Tunc quem tam graphicè pinxisti (docte Poëta)
Nunc est Lindallus, qui Decianus erat.
Nam mag is haud simile est lac lacti, quam Deciano est
Lindallus multis dotibus ingenij.
Ergo adamantëis vinc'lîs iungatur uterque,
Et cum laude illis, & sine fraude tibi.
Ex Martial. Lib. 1. Epigr.
If any worthie be to be inrowl'd
Amongst true Friends, of which fore-times have told:
If any in Greek Arts, or Latin be
Well washt, and good with wise simplicitie:
If any that loues Right, goes honest wayes,
And so to God, that all may heare him, praies:
If any staid with Magnanimitie;
If this be not our Lindall, Let me die.

Ad D. CHRISTOPH. LINDALL, Ripponae Praebendar. digniss.

Anagr.
  • CHRISTOFFER LINDALLE.
  • ILEND, OFFER, CHRIST ALL.
Epigr. de Eodem.
Qui bene te novit, doctissime vir, bene novit
Convenit ut fact is hoc Epigramma tuis.
Angl.
That with this Epigramme thy deeds agree,
They well know, that did ever well know thee.
To the worthily much-honor'd Knight, Sir THOMAS FERFAX, of Denton.
Whether thou warlike Barbarie bestride
(That angry is with the controwling bit)
Or in calm Peace (thy armour layd aside)
Determining Causes on the Bench dost sit,
Or dost retire to th' Muses thy delight,
And reads, or makes as they to thee indite:
Wheresoe'r thou art (renown'd Knight) thou dost beare
The Image of that Monarch great of France,
To whom Minerva brought both Shield and Speare;
Whose Ensignes Victory did still advance;
And on whose Grave, with bi [...]ter tears besprent,
Mars mournes, and Prowess her hoare-hairs doth rent.
Achilles Friend so like him did not goe,
Whom Hector in his roome inrag'd did slay,
As thou dost him in every point: For, so
His eyes he mov'd, his hands did so display.
And, more: The Heavens this Grace unto thee give,
His Vertues cannot die, while Thou dost live.

Ad D. FERDINANDVM FERFAX, Militem.

Anagr.
  • Pherdinandus Ferfaxeius.
  • I, Prudens dux: (ah!) ne differ as.
Epigr. de Eodem.
[...] Pede, Dux, fausto: noli differre paratus:
Sic & Alexandro subditus orbis erat.

To the famous Martialist, Captaine WILLIAM FERFAX.

Nor from thy Name dost thou degenerate,
Stern Mars his Minion, Darling of the Muses;
Nor prises Honor at so lowe a rate,
That it t' obtaine thou any toyle refuses.
The way is steep, in which they must begin,
That Honors Fort doe Scale, Surprise, and Win.
With Trumpets sound, how sweetly dost thou ioyne
The pleasing tunes of gentle Erato!
And with what sacred theft dost thou purloine
The hearts of men! What manly Vertues growe
From thy young Years! which since as I desire
I cannot praise, I onely will admire.

Dialogus inter Vram & Skell, duos amnes Ripponam ambientes, & in parte oppidi orientali co­euntes, de morte celeberrimi viri, Ioh. Mallory, Equitis aurati.

Vr.
DIc mihi Skelle precor, solitus quite dare nobis
Laetum, cur subitò solueris in lacrymas?
An tibi quis liquidas turbavit flumine lymphas?
An dilecta tibi Nympha proterva fuit?
Sk.
Non hoc aut illud: gravior me cura fatigat,
Nostràque sollicito & corda dolore premit.
Nònne tibi nota est communis causa doloris?
Nònne Malorëi funera nota tibi?
Vr.
An Malorëus obit? Parcae potuere feroces
Talis, & heu tanti, rumpere fila viri?
An Malorëius obit? Fatorum O ferrea iura!
Et nunquam humanis (heu!) saturata malis!
Sk.
Illius interitu liquidis fleuere sub antris
Naiades & scissis exululare comis,
Illius interitu reböarunt omnia luctu;
Quicquid habet Coelum, quicquid habetque Solum.
Ʋr.
[Page 67]
Hoc fuit, in thalamo cum me sopor altus habebat
Muscoso, & Nymphae carmina laeta dabant,
Horrendum ut Boreas mugiens, coelique ruina
Corriperet stratis? hoccine causa fuit?
Skel.
Ergo, cum nobis eadem sit causa dolendi,
Ambobus pariter, sors & amara siet;
Nostros iungamus latices, & flumen in unum:
Qui geminatus erat, sic dolor unus erit.
Ʋr.
Esto: sed hac sub lege tamen, coëamus ut ambo
In Patris Oceani liberioris aquas:
Hic dabit Amplexus, vitreóque cubile receptis;
Vt levet ipse malis hospit is instar erit.
Sk.
Gratius an quicquam mihi sit, quàm cernere vultus
Illius immensas qui moderatur aquas?
Hic nos excipiet: nobis lacrymando exhaustis,
In fletus salsas suppeditabit aquas.
Ʋr.
Angl.
TEll me, good Skell, from mirth to mourning cheer
What so hath chang'd thee, or what moves thy mind?
Hath any troubled late thy Waters cleer?
Or doth thy lovely Nymph now prove unkinde?
Sk.
Nor this, nor that: far greater Grief I knowe,
Which on my wofull Heart doth heavie lie.
Hast thou not heard the cause of common Woe;
The Funerall of famous Mallory?
Vr.
Is Mallory dead? O cruell Fates decree!
Could his great Worth obtaine then no Relief?
O Irow lawes of still-stern Destiny,
Ne'r satisfied with humane Woe and Grief!
Sk.
[Page 68]
At his death, Nymphs in liquid Bowrs did weep;
And, shrieking out, did rent their greenish hair:
At his death, Wayling did all places keep:
Both Heaven, and Earth their mourning weeds did wear.
Vr.
Was this the cause when sweet sleep clos'd mine eyes
In my moss-matted roome, whiles Nymphs did sing,
That Storm-winged Boreas, and the thundring Skies,
Me from my bed so suddenly did bring?
Sk.
Since both of Vs then Partners are in woe,
And neither from disastrous Chance are free,
Lets ioyne our streams, and both together goe:
So, that, which two-fold was, one Grief will be.
Ʋr.
Content: but, thus; that both together we
Doe run t'our Father Oceans larger coast:
Hee'l us imbrace in's glassie Hall; and he,
To ease our Grief, will play the gentle Hoast.
Sk.
May any thing more ioyfull me betide,
Than him to see that rules ith' watry Field?
Hee'l us receiue; and t'us, with weeping dry'd,
He for fresh tears salt waters still will yeeld.

Ad humanissimum virum, D. FRAN. TRAPPES, Militem.

Ne meritò videar sterili assimilandus agello
(Nam data vix sterilis semina mittit ager.)
Ecce tibi acceptum (Miles dignis sime) reddo,
Vt magis auct atua & Copia nostra siet.
Foelix hoc foenus, quod danti, quodque locanti
Est lucro. Tali foenore Musa beat.
In Rufum.
Rufus, but late returning from the South,
Knaps Southern; and now scornes his Countrey-mouth:
He cringes with his Face, and looks aside;
And sets his Countenance, as he were a Bride.
He wears a nitty Lock: his Fingers skip,
And dance Carantoes 'twixt his Waste and Lip;
And is with Complement so fild to th' Brim,
That when a Gentleman but said to him,
What is't a clock; he first his hand did kiss;
To say then, At your service, did not misse.
And as the time he intertained thus,
Before he would lay open or untruss
The Budget of his Speech, with much adoo
A formall leg he made, and sayd, Tis two.
Ye Home-bred things, if you in's comp'nie fall,
Be mannerly; or he will shame you all.

Ad G. W. qui casu caput suum Cantabrigiae fregit.

Alma foret nunquam Iovis ex capite edita Pallas,
Frangi non sineret si caput ipse sibi:
Et tibi non fractum caput est modò Palladis urbe,
Pallas ut intraret sic caput alma tuum?
Angl.
Pallas had ne'r been born of high Ioves head,
If's Head had not been broke and brought a-bed:
Was not thy Head, then, broke in Pallas Towne,
That Pallas in thy Head might take a roome?
In Sacrificum quendam.
A Priest, for Penance, one enioynd to take
A iourney with three Pease, loofe in his shoo:
Which he, devoutly given, did not forsake,
But fram'd himself his Penance straight to doo:
Yet, that he might perform it with more ease,
His wit did serve him, first to boyl the Pease.

To the Right Worsh. the Lady ELSABETH Metcalf, the La. Catherin Fennick, and the La. Marie Bethell, Daughters of Sir Hen. Slingsbie, Knight.

Iudge, Ladies, that are modest, faire, and wise
(Since in their iudgements Men doe varie so,
And in these cases Women best advise)
Whether Lucretia did doo well, or no.
Virgil: Lucretia.
When with a knife chaste Lucrece stabd her side,
And streams of blood thence gushed-forth, she cry'd,
My spirit in Heaven, my blood shall witness heer,
That I from staines of Chastity am cleer.
How well will these, brought for me, plead and prove;
This with the Ghosts, that with the Gods above!
Beza de Eadem.
My Bodie's staind: my Soule is pure and free.
Then, from this body, chaste dost thou not flee?
In Eandem.
If the Adult'rer, Lucrece did thee please,
By Death deserv'd thou seeks unworthy praise:
But rather if he forc't thee 'gainst thy will,
For thy Foes fault, thou (mad) thy blood didst spill.
In vaine then Lucrece thou seeks praise, at all:
For, madly thou, or wickedly, didst fall.

To M rs. Dorathy Wythes, wife to M r. Charles Wythes, Esquire.

Anagr.
  • Dorathy Wythes.
  • Wise, Harty, Doth.
Epigr. de Eodem.
Wise and Harty, both are good:
Doth, gives them Life and Action.
Without it, both are but a Bud,
That growes to no Perfection.

To M r. Marke Metcalf.

Eutrapeley (as some thought) is not dead,
Though long since she from us be gon and fled.
Shee's with Marke Metcalf gon to York from hence:
And with him there keeps dayly Residence.
An Epitaph of I. H. Dyer.
He lives with God, none can deny,
That while he liv'd, to th' World did die.

Ad Poetam doctissimum (utinam ditissimum) Ioh. Owen.

Vates Mecoenas olim tres unus alebat:
At nunc tres uni vix alimenta dabunt.
Angl.
Three Poëts one Mecoenas once did cherish:
But now Three, One, for want of meanes, see perish.
Aliter.
Mecoenas earst three Poëts did mantaine:
By Three, now, One scarce Bread and Cheese can gaine.
Aliter.
Three Poëts one Mecoenas whilom fed:
Now Three let One goe supperless to bed.

Ad amicum suum D. ROBERTVM Millner, de nomine suo, Ashmore.

Littera non erit H, atque S omnino liquescet,
Ne quidquam nobis sint in Amore morae.

Ad D. ROB. MORE, Armigerum.

Qui (More) more tuus, tuus & sict Oré que, Ré que,
An dubites quin sit totus Amore tuus?

Praenobili viro, D. Clifford, FRANCISCI Illustriss. Cumberlandiae Comitis filio & Haeredi.

Cessent, Nobilibus sacrae qui Palladis artes
Demunt, aut doctis nobile stemma negant:
Hos omnes unus vincit Cliffordus utroque;
Stemmatibus clarus, clarus & ingenio.

To the Honourable, Sir Thomas Wentworth, Knight Baronet.

Be where thou wilt, Worth alwaies thee attends,
In Publique and in Private causes know'n.
Vertues thy Worth, thy Worth Vertues commends;
Which in thy Words and Deeds are daily show'n.
Where-e'r thou goes, so let thy Worth shine forth,
That men may truely still say, There Went-worth.

To Sir Charles Egerton, Knight.

Mov'd (gentle Knight) by thy great Courtesie,
And good Report I meet with every where,
I adde these few words to the Memory
Of Him, to whom in kinred thou wert neer;
That Man of Worth, whom lately we did see
England's State- Atlas, Cheshire's Treasurie.
Ex Io. Syl. Anagr.
  • Thomas Egerton.
  • Honors mett Age.
Honors mett Age; and, seeking where to rest,
Agreed to lodge and harbor in thy Brest,
Ad Humanissimum virum, D. Guliel. Austin, Armigerum.
Ergone cum clara resonet tua Buccina voce,
Auribus obstreperet nostra Cicuta tuis?
Sed ita vis; neque detrecto: Sic Daulias ipsa
Carmen iners audit non variantis avis.
Stridulus arguto sic garriat Anser Olori:
Sicque Cicada tuis O Galerita sonis.
Ad Ornatissimum Virum, D. Guidonem Palmes, Militem.
Corporis, aut Animi, si quis Bona ponderet, inter
Millia multa virûm Palmes tibi Palma datur.
Angl.
If Ornaments thou of the Minde,
Or Bodie in the Weigh-scales set,
'Mongst many Thousands thou'll not finde
One, that from Palmes the Palm can get.
Ad Reverendum virum, D. Doctorem FAVOR.
Est Favor in vultu: verbis Favor ipse relucet:
Corpore pars toto nulla Favore vacat.
Non mirum est igitur si sint ea plena Favore
Quae facias, cum sis Totus & ipse Favor.
Ad Insignem Poëtam, D. Ben. Iohnson.
Ne sit iners impunè, tuus titubétve Caballus,
Munera Mulciberi mitto polita manu.
Nève tuus languescat amor, tibi Carmina mitto:
Sic Pauper diti poma dat Alcinoö.
Ad D. Franckland.
Sit tibi terra ferax (omni feritate relictâ)
Qui candore animi notus es esse ferax.
Angl.
Still let the Land be Frank to thee,
(All rudeness set aside)
Whose Frankness in all Courtesie
So well is know'n and try'd.
Ad Hen. Bethell, D. Gualteri Bethell, Militis filium, cum Iustinianum sibi mitterem.
Vis fieri Doctus? vis Dives? Iustinianum
Perlege: Doctrinam, Divitiásque dabit.
Angl.
If Learning thou, or Riches would'st obtaine,
Iustinian reade: By him thou both mayst gaine.
Ad D. Io: Davies, Militē, Iudicem Itinerariū.
Si tua legisset redivivus Carmina Plato,
Queîs Animae dotes Entheus ipse canis:
Aut tua voluisset Bilbili Epigrammata Vates,
Tempora queîs salse liberiora notas;
Diverso quamvis Genio scripsere hic, & ille,
Traderet hic Palmam, traderet ille tibi.
Angl.
If Plato liv'd, and saw those Heaven-breath'd Lines
Where thou the Essence of the Soule confines,
Or merry Martiall read thy Epigrammes
Where sportingly these looser times thou blames;
Though both excell, yet (in their severall wayes)
They both, ore-come, would yeeld to thee the Praise.
Ad D. Thomam Best.
An quisquam neget hunc foelici sydere natum,
Qui solet in quo vis Optimus esse loco?
Angl.
With happy stars he sure is Blest,
Wheresoe'r he goes that still is Best.

To Mistris Katherin Dutton, Daughter of M. Dutton, the worthy Alderman of Chester, lately deceased.

Anagr.
  • Katherine Dutton.
  • That kind true one.
Epigr.
A Woman kinde, that is not True,
Playes false, and makes her Husband rue:
If True she be, and nothing Kinde,
Shee is a Corrasiue to his Minde.
True kindness, and Kinde Truth in one,
Make-up a happy Vnion.
Epitaphium Robini.
Round Robin's gone: And this Grave doth inclose
The Pudding of his Doublet and his Hose.
Ad D. Iohannem Petty, de quodam Male.
Sit malè (Mal [...]) tibi, si sis malus, atque molestus,
Atque malo petus sit Tibi (Male) precor:
Sin (magè quod cap [...]o) tu sis bonus, atque benignus,
Opto ut contingat nil tibi (Male) mali.
In Fidicinem infidum.
Non tibi danda fides, Fidicen: discrimine nullo
Túque fides violas, tu violasque fidem.
Aliud.
Qui fidibus ludis, volupe est tibi ludere amicos:
Est eadem fidei cura fidisque tibi.
Dominus quidam de se.
Poscenti soleo nummos irascter: An quod
Do Minus atque Minas, dicor ego Dominus?
To M. Christopher Moyser.
The Friendship, that betwixt us is begun
For causes iust (which we our selves best knowe)
Will for the same I trust on smoothly run,
And with the time increase, and greater growe.
Ad Reverendum virum, sibique meritò colendum, Ad D. Hodgson, sacrae Theologiae Doctorem.
Anagr.
  • Phineas Hodgsonius, Doctor.
  • Dignus Honore dato, poscis.
Epigr.
Dignus Honore dato meritò tu poscis Honorem:
Qui datur indigno, non honor est, at onus.
Of One that (wearing an Hawthorne in his hat to save him from the thunder) was suspected, upon Exa­mination found to be a Priest, and is now in Prison. In Sacrisicum.
Albo Sacrificus spino sua tempora cinxit,
Sic Iovis ut sugeret fulmina missa manu:
Caesaris at non sic effugit fulmina laesi.
Divisum Imperium cum love Caesar habet.
Angl.
A Priest, that he Ioves thunder might not feare,
An Hawthorn garland on his head did weare:
Which him from Caesars thunder could not hide.
Caesar with Iove Dominion doth divide:
In Eundem.
Fulmina dum vitas, invitas fulmina demens:
Interior a Deo, haud exterior a placent.
Angl.
While fondly thou the Thunder shuns
Vpon the Thunder-bolt thou runs:
For, surely God (whom all should praise)
Not outward things, but inward please.
To M r. Iohn Paget.
Our Friendship strengthned by continuance,
And the respect that to thy worth is fit,
Claim in my Writings this rememberance,
That each Page should Iohn Paget haue in it.
In Tortum.
Tortus, accus'd to lie, to feine, and flatter,
Said, he but set a good Face on the matter.
Then sure, he borrow'd it: for (tis well knowne)
Tortus ne'r wore a good Face of his owne.
De Seipso.
Surety, what's that? I to my loss have try'd,
Who for anothers Debt too Sure am Ty'd:
If this I had Etymologiz'd before,
I never had been shut within this doore.
FINIS.
GENERIS SPLENDORE, D …

GENERIS SPLENDORE, Doctrina, & Pietate viro praecellenti, D. THOMAE WHARTON, Equiti aurato, D. Philippi Baronis de Wharton, Filio & Haeredi.

ACcipe, sed placidus, de laude haec carmina Ruris
(Aulae & nunc ruris, non mediocre decus)
Dum facili aggredior fiscellam texere hibisco,
Quae modò dictavit rustica Musa mihi.
Sic tua (foeminei laus, & nova gloria, sexus)
Pignoribus ditet te Philadelpha xthori:
Sicque tuus, pulchrâ pulcher qui ludit in Aulâ,
Te clara faciat prole Philippus Avum.
Angl.
ACcept these Lines, the Countrie's praise that tell
(O thou the Court's and Country's dear Delight)
Which, as I Mawnds made in my homely Cell,
My Countrey Muse did late to me indite.
So, let thy Philadelph (her Sexes praise)
Enrich thee still with Treasures of her bed:
So, let thy Philip, in thy Hall that playes,
Thee Grandfire make by Issue fairely spred.
Virtutum tuarum cultor observantissimus, IOH: ASHMORVS.

THE PRAISE OF A COVNTRY LIFE. MARTIAL. Lib. 4. Epigram. 90. De Rusticatione.

ASks thou, ith' Country how I spend the Day?
Early, each morning, to the gods I pray.
My Servants then, and Fields to see I goe,
And every one appoint what worke to doe.
This done, I read, and Vows to Phoebus make
To ease me, and my drouping Muse t'awake.
My Body then I rub and ore-anoynt,
And easily stretch-out each Lim and Ioynt,
Reioycing in my mind, secure and free
From debt, and the black books of Vsurie.
I dine, I drink, I sing, I wash, I play,
I sup; then, from my Rest not long do stay:
Yet, till my Lampe a little Oyle doe spend,
Som time I nightly to the Muses lend.

VIRGIL. Georg. lib. 2. Vitae Rusticae Laus.

O Happy (if their Happiness they knew)
Are Husbandmen; to whom, in seasons due
(Far from Bellona's Rage in bloody Fields)
The thankfull Earth food from her Bosome yeelds.
If their proud Gates from each Room belch not out
Of Smell-feast Parasites a fleering Rout;
Nor Pillars they desire, that bear on high
Roofs fairly fretted with Imagery;
Nor Clothes, where scattred Gold sportes interlaced;
Nor Plate of Corinth curiously enchased;
Nor their white Fleeces are with Venim foil'd;
Nor self-pure Oyl with Slibber-sawces spoil'd:
Yet quiet Rest, and harm-less Lives they have
So rich of good things, that they need not crave;
And spatious Grounds, where they doo walk at leasure;
And Caves, and Springs, and Woods, and Groves, for plea­sure.
Their bellowing Oxen, and their bleating Sheep,
In some cool Shade them summon to sweet Sleep:
There Forrests, and there Dens of wilde Beasts are,
And Youth enduring toil with little Fare;
There holy Rites, and holy Fathers been:
Astraea, leaving th' Earth, There last was seen.
But, first let the sweet Muses (whom above
All other things I most esteem and love)
Mee entertain their Priest, and to mee showe
The Circuits that the Heav'ns and Stars doo go,
The sundr' Eclipses of the Sun and Moon,
Whence Earth-quakes come; what Powr the Sea so soon
(His Bars broke down) makes proudly rage and swell,
And brings it back, within its Banks to dwell:
Why Winter-daies so fast doo run away,
And why the lingering Nights so long doo stay.
But, if dull Blood, congeal'd about my Hart,
Forbids mee t' undergo this worthy Part
Of Natures Worth; Then let the Country please-mee,
And Rivers (running through the Vallies) ease-mee.
Then let mee love the Woods and Floods unknowne.
O that there were, O that there were but one
That would mee set upon the pleasant Plain,
By which swift Pirchius doth his Course maintain
With posting Waters! or on Taget Hill,
Which Spartan Virgins with mad Shriekings fill
In Bacchus Feasts! or, under Hemus Bank,
Would cover me ith' Shade of Branches rank!
Hee's happy, that the Causes of things knowes,
That vanquisheth, and at his Feet down throwes,
All Cares, and Dest'nies unappeas'd Mis-haps,
And th' hideous Noise of Hel's still-gaping Chaps.
Hee's happy too, the Country-gods that knoweth;
Pan, and Sylvanus (that in Yeers now groweth)
And sister-Fairies, tripping on the Lawn.
He, from his settled Life, will not bee drawn
By Honours Ensignes, nor by Robes of State,
Nor by ambitious Thoughts that hatch Debate,
And faith-lesse Brethren setteth by the Ears;
Nor Treachery, amaz'd with doubtfull Fears;
Nor by Rome's Glory (that now beareth Sway)
Nor Kingdoms, that soon perish and decay.
Hee pulingly ne'r mourneth for the Poor,
Nor him envieth that is rich in Store.
The Fruit, his Trees and Ground yeeld willingly,
Hee gathers, and hee keepeth carefully:
Nor doth hee hard and cruell Lawes behould,
Now brawling Courts, where Iudgements are inroul'd.
Some, Seas vnknowne with Oares molest, nor shun
They murthering Steele: to Princes Courts Some run.
He Cities sackes, and Matrones makes to weepe,
That hee may bowze in Pearle, in Purple sleepe.
From Riches hid, Another seldom flitteth;
But, on his buried Gold (as brooding) sitteth.
He, at the Barre struck mute, astonisht stands:
Gaping for Praise, Him Shouts, and Claps of hands
Ith' Theater (for, they redoubled be
By Senators, and the Plebeïty)
Raise like a Top, and turn-sick make with Pride.
These Swaggerers hands theirs Brothers bloud have dy'd.
From place to place These still do trudge and range,
And their sweet Homes for Banishment do change:
New fangled, from their trusty Friends they run,
To seeke a Place warm'd with another Sun.
The Husband-man with crookt Plough doth not spare
To stir his Ground. Hence, his Revenewes are:
Hence, to his Country, Scot and Lot hee paies:
Hence, Sust'nance for his Houshould hee doth raise,
And his young Nephews: Hence, hee doth preserve
His Heards of Beasts; and Steers, that wel dezerve.
Nor will it rest, but th' Yeer will set abroad
His Riches, and each Bough with Fruit will load;
Or great Increase will Cattell cause to yield,
Or Ceres Gifts so shed in every Field,
That scarce the Furrows may their Burden bear,
And their large Barns asunder that will tear.
Winter draws on. The Olive-berries then
They grinde in Mills: The Hogs come home agen
Frolick with Mast and Wildings in the Woods.
And Autumn is no Niggard of his Goods:
The Vessels hee to th' Brimmes with ripe Grapes fils,
And presseth them forth on the sun-shine Hils.
Mean-while, their pretty Babes they hugge and kiss:
Milde Chastity still their House-keeper is.
The Kine with strouting Vdders come to th' Pail:
The wanton Kids (ith' rank Grass, by) assail,
With Horns new put-forth, proudly one another:
Nor to the Gods, unthankfull, doth hee smother
Their Gifts; but keeps his Feasts Solemnities,
And on the Grass with Flowres embrodered lies;
Where, in the midst, the Fire they compass round,
When his Help-fellows quaffing Boawls have crownd:
Which lightly toucht, with Vowes hee calls on thee,
O Bacchus. Then hee Games, for Mastery,
In th' Elm to Neat-heards sets: Hee, that shoots best,
Must have the Shout and Praise from all the rest.
Their leather-Pelts put-off, the thick-skin Crew
Themselves in untaught Wrastling tugge and tew.
Long-since, the ancient Sabines lived thus:
Thus Remus, and his Brother Romulus:
Warlick Hetruria thus to Greatnes grew:
Yea, Rome herself (to whom all Nations sue,
Th' admired Minion of the World) thus rose,
And in one Wall seaven Towres did thus inclose.
And, long before the Cretian King did raign,
And cruell People liv'd by Bullocks slain,
Good Saturn thus on Earth did spend his Daies:
Fearfull Alarums yet men did not raise
To hatefull Wars; nor (on hard Anvils wrought
With crackling noise) for slaughter Swords were sought.
But now, ith' Wilde-goose-Chase o'r-hal'd with Pains,
'Tis time to loose my froathing Horses Rains.

Ex M. Antonio Flaminio, ad Agellum suum. Sic incipit: Vmbrae frigidulae, &c.

COol Shades, Air-fanning Groves,
With your soft Whisperings,
Where Pleasure smiling roves
Through deawie Caves & Springs,
And bathes her purple Wings:
With Flowrs inameld Ground
(Nature's fair Tapestry)
Where chattering Birds abound,
Flickring from Tree to Tree,
With Change of Melody:
Sweet Liberty and Leasures,
Where still the Muses keep,
O! if to those true Treasures,
That from your Bosoms peep,
I might securely creep:
If I might spend my Daies
(Remote from publike Brawls)
Now tuning lovely Laies,
Now light-foot Madrigals,
Ne'r checkt with sudden Calls:
Now follow Sleep that goes
Rustling ith' green-wood Shade;
Now milk my Goat, that knowes
(With her yong fearfull Cade)
The Pail ith' cooly Glade,
And with Boawls fild to th' Brims
Of milky Moisture new,
To water my dry'd Lims,
And t' all the wrangling Crew
Of Cares to bid, Adew;
What Life then should I lead!
How like then would it bee
Vnto the Gods, that tread
Ith' starry Gallery
Of true Felicity!
But you, O Virgins sweet,
In Helicon thar dwell,
That oft the Fountains greet,
When you the Pleasures tell
Ith' Country that excell:
If I my Life, though dear,
For your far dearer sake,
To yeeld would nothing fear;
From Citie's Tumults take-mee,
And free ith' Country make-mee.
FINIS.
TO THE RIGHT WORSIPf …

TO THE RIGHT WORSIP­full, S r. RICHARD HVTTON, Knight, one of his Maiesties Iustices in the Court of Common Pleas.

IF my Hopes harvest, Worthy Sir, had not
Been blasted with the Breath of dull Despaire,
My Muse (ne'r branded with the hatefull blot
Of cheap Ingratitude, freed from base Care)
The Tribute of her Love (for Causes iust)
Would not so long have smothered in the Dust.
Yet lookes Shee for one Sun-shine Day: Mean while,
Accept these Gleanings, gathered in the Fields
Of good Free-holders, in the blessed Ile,
Where each one shewes (as his Affection yeelds)
Who is most blest: which none can better tell,
Then the sweet Singer doth of Israel.
Your Worships, in his best indeavors to command, IOH: ASHMORE.

OF A BLESSED LIFE. MARTIALIS, ad seipsum, vel potius ad Iulium Martialem. Lib. 10. Epigr. 47.

O Merrie Martial, I mistake,
A happy Life if these not make;
Riches bequeath'd, not got by toyle,
A fire ne'r out, no barren Soyle,
No Strife, seld' Office, a Minde found
Still calme, fit Strength, a Body sound,
Wise Smpleness, Friends equall bred,
No costly Fare, a Boord soon spred,
Nights never drunk, but from Cares free,
A gamesome Bed with Modestie,
Sleep making Darkness short to bee.
Be with thy State Content: so stay:
Wish not, nor feare, thy Fatall-Day.
Strigillius contra Martialem.
O Trifling Martial, tis most sure
That these things a blest Life procure:
Sense of our Sinne, an Heart relenting,
Griefe for our errors, Tears repenting,
And Faith, that saving Health embraceth.
For, he that on this sure Rock placeth
His ne'r-shak't Faith, thar Christ alone
(True God) our Nature hath put-on,
And Vs (markt with Deaths blackest Letters,
Vnto eternall Chaines and Fetters)
Hath ransomd with his dearest Blood,
And 'twixt God's Wrath and Vs hath stood:
In Heaven he shall ('mong Heroës blest)
Crownd with unblasted Bayes still rest.
Perhaps, thou'l say; These words are blunt;
Nor Romans so to speak ar wont.
O trifling Martial, tis most sure,
That these things a blest Life procure.
Georg. Fabricius.
THese things true Happiness doe teach,
At which well-minded Christians reach:
God rightly and thy selfe to knowe,
And what thou dost thy Neighbour owe;
A temperate Tongue, chaste Speech, Heart pure,
A cheerfull Giver's Hand to th' Poore,
A Life with small, and 's owne Content,
Vnstaind Faith, and Love permanent,
A Minde with good Success not drunk,
Nor with disastrous chances shrunk,
But which good Hope keeps, and makes bolde
His Saviour Christ still to beholde.
Ad Martialem. Lib. 5. Epigr. 21.
IF that with thee, dear Martial, I might
Securely spend my dayes as I desire:
If vacant time we might dispose aright,
And at the last to a true life retire;
No Princes Courts, nor houses would we knowe
Of mighty men, nor irksome sutes would trie,
Nor unto greedy Lawyers would we goe,
Nor poare on a proud worm-gnawn Pedegree:
But, a well-pend, and lively acted Scene,
Small Brooks, Fields, Walks, fair Damsels, Bathes and Shades,
Should be the Labours we would entertaine,
Should be the Shops wherein we still would trade.
Now, neither of vs lives t' himselfe (Alas!)
But doth perceive with grief of minde, and see
How fair Suns rise, and how away they pass
Fruit-less to us, for which we blamed be.
Doth not a man, to live that knowes the way,
Cut-off encumbrances that thence him stay?
Marcus Antonius Flaminius, ad Steph. Saulum: Sic incipiens. Ne tu beatum dixeris▪ &c.
THink not (good Saul) that hee is blest
Through Cities stately Gates that goes,
With swarms of crouching Suters prest,
And noble Peers that him in close.
No, not if in high-rooft Barnes he
Fair Affricks fertile Harvests hold,
And Gems, and polisht Ivory
Possess, and ruddy heaps of Gold.
Nor he the secret Seales that opes
Of Causes; or by skill profound
Mounts to the Stars, or by Wit gropes
To finde the Treasures hid ith' Ground:
But him thou Blessed well mayst call.
That rightly doth his God adore,
And from his Precepts doth not fall,
But them than Gold esteemeth more.
He's not puft-up with peoples Praise;
But, still God's Praise to him is dear:
Which to maintaine and more to raise,
Reproches he doth willing beare.
And often, from Earth's Cares set free,
His happy Soule to Heaven ascends;
Where it enioyes the Deïtie,
And parlies with celestiall Friends.
And so, full fraught with heavenly Ioy,
Vnto an higher pitch he riseth
Than worldly Dangers can annoy,
And Mens mad purposes despiseth.
The Shepheard so, from perill farre,
As he secure lies in his Cave,
Beholds the sturdy Windes at warre
With Seas, that proudly swell and rave,
Lipsij laus, & vota Vitae beatae.
HEe's like the gods, and higher then
The rest-less Race of mortall Men,
That wisheth not, or (in despaire)
The doubtfull Day of Death doth feare.
In whom Ambition doth not raigne,
That is not vext with hope of Gaine,
That trembles not at Threats of Kings,
Nor Darts that angry Iove down flings:
But, firmely seated in one Place,
Vulgar Delights doth scorne, as base:
That of his Life one Tenor keeps;
Secure that wakes, secure that sleeps.
If I might live at mine owne pleasure,
I would no Office seek, nor Treasure;
Nor captive Troups should me attend,
As to my Charret I ascend,
Drawne by white Steeds, with Shouts and Cries;
A Spectacle to gazing Eyes.
In Places I remote would be:
Gardens and Fields should solace me:
There, at the bubbling waters noyse,
I with the Muses would reioyce.
So, when my Lachesis hath spun
The thread of Life, she well drew on;
Not unto any man a Foe,
I full of Years from hence would goe,
And Date my dayes in quiet state,
As my good Langius did of late.
Psalmus Primus DAVIDIS. Beatus vir, &c.
HEe happy is, amongst the brain-sick Crue
Of ill-advising men, that doth not walk;
Nor the lewd Path of wicked men pursue,
Of holy things that dare profanely talke;
Nor in the Scorners chaire sits (swoln with Pride)
That God contemne, and Godliness deride.
But hee seeks-out farre-better Wayes to tread,
Led (in the winding Labyrinth of this Life)
By his Creator's Lawes, as a sure thread
That guides him through cross-wayes of worldly Strife.
By it, his Words and Actions he doth frame:
Earely and late he thinks upon the fame.
Hee's like a thick-leav'd tree, that planted is
By the green Bank of som smooth-gliding Stream,
That with his fruitfull armes stretcht-forth doth bliss
The Labourers Paines: which Phoebus with his beam
Doth ne'r so search, nor Winters rage can stay,
But yearly Rent she to her Lord will pay.
So shall not the ungodly and unkinde
Despisers of Gods Statutes and his Grace,
That (with themselves at war) no Rest can finde;
But, like the Chaf, are tost from place to place
With every sudden blast of Winde that bloweth,
Which scorns their lightness, and to Heaven it sheweth.
For, when the iust Iudge comes in a bright Cloud,
Circled with Angels, cloath'd with Maiesty,
The wicked (daunted) will cry-out aloud,
Casshierd from Saints for their impiety.
For, as in good mens Wayes God takes Delight,
So he o'r-throwes all wicked By-wayes quite.
FINIS.

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