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Poems

By W. H. [i.e. William Hammond]
Hammond, William
 
[epigraph]

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POEMS.
 
Commanded to write Verses.
 
The Walke.
 
Husbandry.
 
Mutuall Love.
 
The forsaken Maid.
 
Another.
 
J. C.
 
De Melidoria.
 
Delay. Upon advice to deferr Loves Consummation.
 
Upon Cloris her visit after Marriage,
 
On the infrequency of Celias Letters.
 
To her questioning his Estate.
 
The Spring.
 
The cruell Mistresse.
 
To his Mistresse, Desiring him to absent himselfe.
 
To his scornfull Mistresse.
 
To Mr. J. L. Upon his Treatise of Dialling.
 
Epithalamium, To the L. T. marryed in the North.
 
To Eugenio,
 
To the same being sicke of a feavour.
 
To the same,
 
To the same.
 
To the same,
 
To the same, on his Poems and Translations.
 
To the same on his Poems,
 
To the same
 
To the same.
 
On the Marriage of my deare Kinsman T. S. Esq; and Mrs. D. E.
 
To Mrs. D. S. on the birth of Sidney, her second Son.
 
Horat: Od. 3. 3.
 
To Sr. J. G. wishing me to regain my fortunes by complyance with the Parliament.
 
The World.
 
Gray Haires.
 
A Dialogue upon death.
 
Death.
 
On the death of my dear brother Mr. H. S. drown'd.
 
On the same.
 
On the same.
 
To my dear Sister Mrs. S.
 
To the same.
 
To the same.
 
To the same.
 
To the same.
 
To the same.
 
To the same.
 
On the death of my much honourd Uncle Mr. G. Sandys.
 
Epitaph on Sir R. D.
 
Grace Compar'd to the Sun.
 
Upon the Nativity of our saviour and Sacrament then received.

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With Venus and her mighty Son
Expostulating thus, I won
This answer: Alasse (Cupid cryes)
I hood-winkt am; my closed eyes
Bound with a Fillet, that my Bow
Can none but roving Shafts let go;
Hence 'tis that Troops of violent
Youth, their misplaced loves resent;
That some love rashly; some again
Congealed are with cold disdain:
Wouldst thou thy Mistresse, I inspire,
And in her breast convey that fire
Which nature suffers not to find
Birth from thy tears? Do but unbind
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My eyes, and I will take such aime,
As she shall not escape my flame:
Thus spake the Boy, my ready hand
Prepared was to loose the band
From his faire eye-lids, that his sight
Might to his Dart give steady flight;
When my good Genius prudent eare,
Whisperd to my rash soule, Beware:
Ah shamelesse Boy, deceitfull Love,
I see thy plot, should I remove
Those chaines of darknesse from thy eyes,
Thou Melidore so much wouldst prize,
That strait my rivall thou wouldst be,
And warme her for thy selfe, not me.
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