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Pocula Castalia

The Authors Motto. Fortunes Tennis-Ball. Eliza. Poems. Epigrams. &c. By R. B. [i.e Robert Baron]

Baron, Robert

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THE AUTHORS MOTTO.

FORTVNES TENNIS-BALL.

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147

Now wrapt he up this Scroule so counterfaite
In the same fashion as the King had his,
Then ript (with curious heed) the seale from that,
And with a Wafer fixt it (whole) to this.
Next to the Chamber (on fears socks) he crept,
And left it there, whilst still his Master slept.

148

Soon as the early Lark even tir'd with rest,
From his moist Cabinet sprung up on high,
Waking the morning, from whose dewy breast
Heavens wandring Knight rose to his errantry,
Th'Embassadour don'd rich embroideries pride,
And to the Court his paces did divide.

149

Whilst there he waited in a Gallery.
Hung round with Titians and rare Hylliards hands,
The Queen stept in, clad in such Majesty
As the Great Goddesse that ties Nuptiall Bands
Used, when she did contend on Ida's plain,
From Beauties Queen Beauties bright prize to gaine.

150

Low on his knee he kist her Royall Hand,
Then fil'd it with the Packet, (by happy blisse
For him (without him) from its first self chang'd)
Which read, she gave once more her hand to kisse.
And putting on her best looks to delight him,
She to a Royall banquet did invite him.

151

Now they descended to the Pallace Hall,
Where hundred objects claim'd his doubtful eye,
Which though the least alone had fil'd it all,
Was famished amidst variety.
Now this he tasts, then that he glances on,
Diversity confounds election.

152

But gather up thy sense and fortifie,
Weaknesse in fractures, strength in union lies.
Now youth the valour of thine Opticks try,
Here, here an object comes that's worth all eyes.
But (as who stares at Sol finds night at noon)
She having such bright ones make all else have none.

153

Rosella the rare Princesse (in quaint dressing
Of Sea green Tabie, whose wat'ring seem'd apace
Like Waves to move with her, the Lace expressing
Silver Rocks) enter'd, with such winning grace
As Cypria wore, when of Troys royall Swain
She (worthily) did Beauties prize obtain.

154

Her Hair, alas! too cold a word! Her Beames
O'r-shaddowing her Robe with loose command
Out-shin'd his rayes that gild the tottering streames.
Her bared Breasts appear'd Loves Scylla and
Charibdis, betwixt whom no eye might steer
But must (perforce) becom a Prey to her.

155

Her Stomacher was cloath of Gold vail'd ore
With subtle Tiffana, to shew the Land,
Strew'd with such Margarites as inrich the shore,
And Spangles, crookt, like shells that paint the sand.
The gum'd Silk's whistling must be understood,
Vvltvrnvs milder breath curling the floud.

156

The Youth made haste his trembling knee to bend
(As dazled Pilgrims 'fore some glorious shrine)
With devout feare he kist her melting hand
(As they doe Reliques, or some Rag divine)
Now rights he out his knee, but still doth look
Like to an Aguish Asp that's Planet strook.

157

She also felt a civill war in her
Distracted thoughts, all forts wild Passion seiz'd.
Love Generall, quarter'd in her eyes while ere
(Making her browes bowes to shoot all that gaz'd)
From those Frontiers, unto her Heart retir'd,
Where finding Reason possest, the Fort he fir'd.

158

Reason his blinde foe with Cowardize then taunteth
Saying Noblest Conquerers do wrecks avoid.
He answers, if a Heart Rosella wanteth,
I'l give her Ulorvs his to be enjoy'd,
Yet that must flame first, for like Gold we prove
Hearts must be fin'd and melted ere they love.

159

If their Hearts, Gentle Tyrant (Reason reply'd)
Smell sweetest in the flames, like Cassia,
If they (like Martyrs, though their sect divide)
Will accord best in their sweet misery,
Let us love too, and blow the coal together,
Good reason, they, young and fair, should love each other.

160

Both did desire, both were desir'd, though neither
Knew eithers wish; yet saw they whence their griefe
Sprung, even from whence they must expect their cure,
Yet fear'd, who would kill would denie Reliefe.
Love mixt so with them by his mistick Arts
As he soon had for Trophies both their Hearts.

161

The Heart-rob'd Youth resolved, by his Tongue
His Hearts Atturny, his sute to commence,
But was a drawing up the charge so long
New wounds came thick, and th'formers griefe chac'd thence.
Yet when to make the motion he'd assay
His words were crusht to sighs, and all was Ah!

162

She eccho'd him, thinking each sigh did bring
Loves summons, she, by hers, her yeelding sent,
Whereat the feather'd Wag did Io sing
And in her fresh cheeks pitcht his crimson Tent,
Displaying his blush-colour'd Ensigns there,
Shewing his Almighty self as Conquerer.

163

The Tables furnisht were as they'd invite
A bedrid stomach that surcharged lies
With potions to a freshmans appetite.
But Ulorvs best dish was Rosella's eyes.
As Lovers use when their mawes call to eat,
He cut his fingers in the stead of meat.

164

And with much gazing on (Heavens map) her face
He hungry rose, (in this too like a Lover.)
His words he left halfe spoke, or did misplace,
Or (Lover like still) he spake them twice over.
Questions were put, but when he would reply
His answers (Lover like) were quite awry.

165

The joyous Queen with smiling cheer did see
The wounding friends shoot their hearts each at other
Through their eyes, hoping evry look would be
A new dart, to continue them together;
She strait commands a Masque, then doth invite
Them to grace the short bravery of the night.

166

The nimble Masquers danc't as movingly
As Joves nine Twins on the Pierian Lawnes,
Or Thebes Stones a Amphion's melody,
Or brisk Pan and his Herd of light heel'd Fawnes.
But how could their feets freedom please this pair
Whose hearts lay tangled in each others hair?

167

Such melody courted their ears to hark
As th'orbes harmonious journey make, which they
No more regarded than the child doth marke
His lesson, when he hath got leave to play:
For how could Orphevs Raptures take those eares
Whose notes were onely sighs, their closes teares.

168

Now the ones eyes laid themselves open wide
To receive all the darts the other threw,
Then were they close with admiration tied
To keep the wealth they had already drew,
Or cast their Lids as curtaines ore the rare
Image of Beauty each look painted there.

169

Affection encreas'd their looking, and
Their looks augmented their affections,
Their eyes (like children 'fore whom sweet-meats stand)
Eager, but fearfull of their Guardians.
When one did sigh, as if that sigh were to
Be waited on, the other sigh'd also.

170

The Scene is clos'd up, the Soule mingling-pair
(Whose fancies travell'd undelivered
With throes of feare desier and despaire)
More overcast with thought than sleep, were led
To severall Lodgings, there they vent their breasts
With sighs and wishes, the rest retir'd to rest.

171

When Sol the Captain of the Planets bright
Came arm'd in burnisht Tinsell to Heavens Guard,
To relieve the winking Centinels of Night,
And give them leave to rest whilst he would ward;
The Princesse, seeing sleep was banisht fro
Her weary Bed, she left it empty too.

172

So day broke out of Chaos hurling Night
Unto the Center. So the Skie-wanderer
Unfetters from the Armes of Amphitrite.
So Roses break forth and perfume the air.
Only the first, the second, the last, be
Not halfe so cleer, so bright, so sweet, as she.

173

Now stood shee like the beautious Aphrodite
New risen from her frothy Mothers Bed,
Her purer smock lookt much like that pure white
Foam that the Goddesse limbs yet all bespred.
Her Bed (like bodies when their soules are flown)
Turn'd pale and cold for griefe that she was gon.

175

A mantle of green Velvet (wrought to wonder)
Her maidens o'r her curious limbes did cast,
It over her left shoulder went, and under
Her right Arm; on her breast it was made fast
With claspes of radient Diamons, now as
A Dazie shew'd she, in a field of grasse.

176

Now th'Queen her Mother came, and did impart
To her the message from the King was brought.
This somewhat lightened her heavy heart,
To think what she so wisht her Father sought.
But then her joyes did flag again, through fear
Lest he she so lov'd, too no thought for her.

177

By this the climbing Sun with warmth doth thaw
And tender make the of-late crusty Earth,
Each naked twig blood from the root doth draw
To swell the branch, and give a lively Birth
To the dead leaves, now fill'd again within
With plump juice, and without painted with green.

178

The pretty firstlings of the infant year
Now make their mother smile, and their gay heads
(Which late in icy graves did dead appear)
Advance afresh above their easie Beds,
Like Types o'th'Resurrection, and shew
Like weeping Virgins all be pearl'd with dew.

178

The Groves shrill Quiristers whose frozen throats
Late wanted motion and male heat to strain
Their little Organs, now have found their notes.
Now Philomela's tongue is grown again,
She scrues her sprightly Seraphins voyce up high,
To teach men Art from Natures Melody.

179

Now all things else smile with the forward Spring,
No Vine so young now feares the blasting stormes
That foul-mouth'd Auster carries on his wing,
Or the South-west wind hurries in his armes.
No rugged Boreas blows, but Zephyr's calm
Sweep flowry Gardens, and the air embalme.

180

So smil'd the daies from Chaos first when sprung,
As now, then did the loughing Oxe repair
Not to warm stalls, but open Fields; among
The Woods herds dwelt, and chattering Birds the air
Fill'd with their Song; then Natures frame t'uphold
Heaven temper'd this sweet mean, nor hot, nor cold.

181

This serene season seemed to beseech
The sweet Rosella (Earths and Heavens Pride)
Net only one poor chamber to enrich
And so impoverish ev'ry place beside,
But to walk forth and with her smiles to bring
An early Summer on the forward Spring.

182

The Grasse did court her soft tread, and then wept
For Griefe that she so soon off it was gon,
And perfum'd teares upon her small foot left.
The Flowers that did require no other Sun
As she approacht did start from their soft Beds,
And for a sight of Her, steal out their Heads.

183

Here in an odorous Bower rich in shade
She took a seat, whereon a Primrose grew.
“Flora's first Daughter! Ah! (she sighing, said)
“How like me in my loving state art thou!
“Blubber'd with dew thou standst, and in mine eares
“To whisper seem'st, Loves sweets are washt with teares.

184

“How yellow green and sick thy leaves appear!
“Like ripening Girles that junket on Loam walls,
“Or Feast on chalk and coals; to Earth how neer
“Thy weak stalk bends, yet neither breaks nor falls.
“These to the nimble fancy do discover
“The doubts and fear-shaken hopes are in a Lover.

185

Whilst here she sate one the embroidered ground
Musing on her new Love, her busie head
With thoughts was crowded. Now reason would have found
No cause to Love, because no hope to speed,
Then Love crost that; when from a Grot hard by
Her shady couch, she heard this melody.