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Small poems of Divers sorts

Written by Sir Aston Cokain
Cokain, Aston (1608-1684)

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TO HIS NOBLE FRIEND Sir ASTON COKAIN on his Poetical composures.
  
A Remedy for Love.
  
The first Eglogue. Why Strephon, art thou melancholy grown
  
The second Eglogue. Why art thou sad (fair Shepherdess)
  
A Satyre.
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Love Elegies.
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Funeral Elegies.
 1. 
1. On the Death of my very good Friend Mr. Michael Drayton.
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2. On my dear Sister Mrs. Isabella Cokaine, who who died at Ashbourne about the 18th yeer of her Age, and lyes there buried.
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3. On the death of Henry Lord Hastings, Son to the right Honourable Ferdinand Earl of Huntingdon, & c.
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4. On the death of my dear Cousin Germane Mrs. Olive Cotton, who deceased at Berisford the 38th year of her Age, and lyes buried at Bently by Ashbourne, &c.
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5. A funeral Elegie on my Dear Cousin Mistress Elizabeth Reppington, who deceased at Ammington about the eighteenth year of her age, and lyes buried at Tamworth.
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6. A Funeral Elegie upon the Death of Mr. Thomas Pilkington, one of the Queens Musicians, Who deceased at Wolverhampton about the 35. year of his Age, and lies there buried.
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Letters to divers Persons.
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Encomiastick verses on several Books.
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A MASQUE Presented at Bretbie in Darbyshire On Twelfth-Night. 1639.
  
An Epithalamium, design'd for the Nuptials of Sir Andrew Knyvegston my Wives Brother, and Mrs. Elizabeth Stanhope of Elveston my Cousin-german; Their Marriage prevented by her death.
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EPIGRAMS
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8.

[When I look on your Ribband-knots, I find]

When I look on your Ribband-knots, I find
That my rash gazing eies have thral'd my mind:
For they become you so exceeding well,
That they have tide my toung, I cannot tell.
When I perceive the wanton Windes to play
With your unequal'd hair, amaz'd I stay,
And bless their happiness; that they can move
Those amorous tresses and not fall in love.
When you into Hide Parke do go, all there
To follow the race-riders do forbear,
And all of them unanimously approch,
And (as if waiters) do attend your Coach;
That your fair eys may shine on them, whose light
Doth set their hearts on fier at the sight;
And force vows from them, that for your dear sake
Of greatest toils they greatest joys would make.
But what do I do then! I nothing can;
Your beauties make a Statue of a Man.
I cannot look and talke to you like some;
Lady! your matchless Beauties strike me dumbe.
But when I am retired, and alone,
My resolutions then do yeild to none;
Regard, reward my earnest love, and so
Raise me to heights of joy from depths of wo.
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