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Some of Tityrus's Songs then sangby Dorus.

A Mandee to Grammar Scholars.

1

To them that truly Learning prize and love,
I wish each twig,
Sweet as a Fig,
The Ferula as soft as kidskin glove.

2

In time of Seed no cost or labour spare,
Who soweth cheap,
Shall never reap
Things admirable excellent and rare.
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3

One hour in in youth well spent may go for two,
When we grow old,
Our Studie's cold;
The things we learn in youth, in age we do.

4

Loaves heavy prove that rise not in the Dough:
Flow'rs in the prime,
In far lesse time
Then they in Summer or in Autumn grow.

5

Look but before you plainly shall descry,
Honours attend
On them that spend,
Their youth in sacred Muses company.

6

When they that follow worldly vain delight,
In folly spend,
What Heav'ns do send,
And set in mists of sad obscured night.

7

Hence younger Brothers by their studies raise,
Their Houses name
To Height of fame
And build brave Monuments of lasting praise.

8

Which th'Elder finding ready built to hand
Their Genius please,
In Sloth and Ease,
Or waste in pride and riot, Goods and Land.

9

Wherefore to him that truly Learning loves,
Instead of twigs,
I wish sweet Figs,
For Ferula's perfumed Kidskin Gloves.

To his little Valentine.

A pair of Gloves of Lamb-skin leather fine,
I will bestow upon my Valentine.
Who is as milde and gentle as a Lamb,
For why? she suck'd no other from her Dam;
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As white and clear as Lilly of the Valley,
Apt to delight, to leap, to bound, to dally,
How like a Lamb, she only doth not creep,
And there's good hope she'l never prove a Sheep;
For so she should degenerate from her Mother:
To such, if thou be wise, sue, to none other.

To his Mistresse.

As I in me, my Mistresse fair did see,
A picking Pipridges, my heart then free
She stole away: Ah! knew she what she did?
Picking and stealing is by death forbid.

To the same. [To his Mistresse.]

When I my love to Myra tell,
She answers alway well, well, well;
That you can speak well I do know,
But I'de fain learn how yon will do.

A Song.

A Pocryphal are Stories not the Lives,
Of valiant Judith and Susanna chaste;
They have and shall be Paterns for good Wives,
So long as any Womanhood shall last.
No name like Sarah's is so dignifi'd,
By Moses in his world-creating Story,
He tels her Beauty, Tomb, what age she di'd,
Obedience to her Lord her greatest glory.
But none th'Almighty doth so much regard
As his meek Handmaids Virgin-lowlinesse,
By whom He for His people that prepar'd,
For which all Generations shall Her blesse.
Rebecca, Leah, Ruth, Uriah's Wife,
Were silver Pipes for to convey the Seed
To this Conduct, whence sprang the Lord of Life,
Whose bruised heel should break the Serpents head.
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All Stories reade over and o're again,
You'l finde more women bad then good of Men.
The Pride of Scholars is to prove good Readers,
The Crown of Women is to be good Breeders.

A Suitor to his Mistresse.

Astrea that left Earth to Heaven to flee,
Is now come back and Fair enshrin'd in thee,
Not to return, but stay and on me shine,
Inrich me thus, and all the world is mine:
Regard a mortal whose faint soul aspires,
Enlightned by the Beams celestiall fire;
(Compel'd to be thy Convert) but to look
His Lesson o're in thy sweet-Beauties Book:
Oh't be my Heaven on Earth, may I obtain
Under thy Scepter this my highest aim,
The Golden Ball will prove lead to my gain.
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