University of Virginia Library

IV. The Fourth PART.

UPON THE THEAM OF LOVE.

O love, how thou art Tyred out with Rhime!
Thou art a Tree, whereon all Poets Clime,
And from thy Tender Branches every one
Doth take some Fruit, which Fancy feeds upon:
But now thy Tree is left so Bare and Poor,
That they can hardly gather one Plum more.

The Brain compar'd to the Elysium.

The Brain is like th'Elysian Fields, for there
All Ghosts and Spirits in strong Dreams appear;
In Gloomy Shades do Sleepy Lovers walk,
And Souls do entertain themselves with Talk;
And Heroes their great Actions do relate,
Telling both their Good Fortune and Sad Fate,
What Chanc'd to them, when they Awake did Live;
Their World the Light did Great Apollo give;
And what in Life they could a Pleasure call,
Here in these Fields they pass their Time withall;
Where Memory, the Ferry-man, with him
Brings Company, which through the Senses Swim;
The Boat, Imagination, 's always full,
Which Charon Roweth in the Region Scull,
In which the Famous River Styx doth Flow,
Wherein who's Dipt, strait doth Forgetfull grow.
And this Elysium Poets happy Call,
Where, as Great Gods, they do Register all
The Souls of those, which they will Chuse for Bliss,
And their Sweet Number'd Verse their Pasport is;
And those that strive this Happy place to have,
Must go to Bed, and Sleep as in a Grave.
Yet what a Stir do Poets make, when they
By their Wit, Mercury, those Souls Convey!
But what, cannot the God-head Wit Create,
VVhose Fancies are both Destiny and Fate?
Fame is the Thread, which long or short they Spin,
The World, as Flax, for th'Distaff is brought in;
This Distaff Spins fine Canvas of Conceit,
VVherein the Sense is VVoven ev'n and strait;
But if't in Knots and Snarls intangled be,
The Thread of Fame doth run Unevenly.
Those that care not to Live in Poets Verse,
Let them lye Dead upon Oblivion's Hearse.

A Description of a Shepherds, and Shepherdesses Life.

The Shepherdesses which great Flocks do keep,
Are Dabled high with Dew following their Sheep;
Milking their Ews their Hands doth Dirty make,
For they being Wet, Dirt from their Duggs do take;
Through the Sun's Heat their Skin doth Yellow grow,
Their Eyes are Red, Lips Dry with Winds that blow;
Their Shepherds sit on Tops of Mountains high,
And on their Feeding Sheep do Cast an Eye,
Which to the Mount's steep Sides they Hanging feed
On short Moss-grass, not suffer'd to bear Seed;
Their Feet are Small, but Strong each Sinews string,
Which makes them fast to Rocks and Mountains cling;
The while the Shepherds Leggs hang Dangling down,
He sets his Breech upon the Hill's high Crown.
Like as a Tanned Hide, so is his Skin,
No melting Heat, or numming Cold gets in;
And with a Voice that's Harsh against his Throat,
He strains to Sing, yet knows not any Note;
He Lazy, Yawning lies upon his Side,
Or on his Back, and hath his Arms spread wide,
Or Snorting Sleeps, and Dreams of Joan his Maid,
Or of Hobgoblins, wakes, as being afraid;
Motion in his Dull Brains doth Plow and Sow,
Not Plant and Set, as Skilfull Gardners do.
Then takes his Knife half-broke, but Ground agen,
And whittles Sticks, his Sheep-coat up to Pin;
Or Cuts some Holes in Straw, to Pipe thereon
Some amorous Tunes, which pleaseth his Love, Joan:
Thus Rustick Clowns are pleas'd to Spend their times,
And not as Poets Feign, in Verse and Rhimes,
Making great Kings and Princes Pastures keep,
And Beauteous Ladies follow Flocks of Sheep,
And Dance 'bout May-poles in a Rustick sort,
When Ladies scorn to Dance without a Court;
They would their Lovers hate, if they should come
With Leather-Jerkins, Breeches made of Thrum,
And Buskins made of Freeze, that's Coarse and Strong,
And Clouted Shoes, ty'd with a Leather-thong;
Those that are Nicely Bred, Fine Cloaths still love,
A Fair white Hand doth hate a Dirty Glove.

The Allegory of Shepherds is too Mean for Noble Persons.

To Cover Noble Lovers with the Weeds
Of Ragged Shepherds, too Low Thoughts it breeds;
Like as when Men make Gods to come below,
Takes off all Rev'rence and Respect we Owe;
Then rather make Ladies fair Nymphs to be,
Who're Cloath'd with Beauty, Bred with Modesty,
Whose Tresses Long hang on their Soulders white,
Which, when they Move, do give the Gods delight;
Whose Quivers, Hearts of Men which fast are ty'd,
And Arrows of Quick-flying Eyes beside;
Buskins, which Buckled close with Plates of Gold,
With strength their Legs from Base ways back do hold;
And make Men Champions, Knights, which Honour prize
Above the Tempting of Alluring Eyes;
VVhich seek to Kill, or at the least to Bind
All Evill Passions in a VVand'ring mind,
And take those Castles, kept by Scandals strong,
That have by Errours been Enchanted long;
Rout Monstrous Vices, which do Virtues eat,
These Lovers worthy are of Praises great;
So will high Fame aloud those Praises Sing,
Cupid those Lovers shall to Hymen bring;
At Honours Altar Joyn both Hearts and Hands,
The God will Seal their Matrimonial Bands.

The House of Shame wherein Dishonour Lives.

Dishonour in the House of Shame doth Dwell,
The way is Broad and Open like the Hell;
The Porter's he, whom Baseness we do call,
And Idleness is Usher of the Hall;
The House with Dark Forgefulness is hung,
And round about Ingratitude is flung;
Windows of Boldness which Out-face the Light,
The Curtains are Dissembling, drawn with Spight;
Covetousness hath Gilded all the Roof,
The Weather-Cock, Inconstancy, doth move:
Instead of Pillars Obstinacy stands,
Carved with Perjury by Cunning hands;
And Lust on Beds of Luxury doth lye,
The Chamberlain, that Waits, is Jealousie.
Gardens of Riot, where the VVanton VValks,
Lascivious Arbours, where Obsceneness Talks;
The Store-hous's Theft, Ill gotten Goods lye in,
A secret Door's Bolted with a False Pin;
The Bake-house doth Ill Consciences make,
False Hearts, as Ovens Hot, them hard do Bake;
The Brew-house yields Designs of wicked Brains,
With Corrupt Measures and Deceitfull Grains;
Drunkness the Cellar, Stomacks for Barrels go,
Mouths are the Taps, whence Spue for Drink doth flow;
Kitchens of Slander, where Good Names are Burn'd,
Spits of Revenge, on which Ill Deeds are turn'd;
The Slaughter-house of horrid Murder's Built,
A Knife of Cruelty, by which Blood's Spilt;
The Matrimonial Bands Dishonour link
VVith Infamy, which is as Black as Ink.

The Temple of Honour.

Honour's brave Temple's Built both high and wide,
Whose Walls are of Clear Glass on every Side,
Where Actions of all Sorts are perfect seen,
Where Truth, the Priest, Approves, which Worthiest been,
Who on the Altar of the VVorld them lays,
And Offers them with Sacrificing praise,
Which Offerings are so Clean, and without Stain,
As Honour's God-head cannot them Disdain;
As pious Tears, with Thoughts most Chast and Pure,
And patient Minds, Afflictions to indure;
Wise Brains, which things bring to a Good Effect,
And helping Hands, where Bribes are not suspect;
A Tongue, which Truth in Eloquence doth Dress,
And Lips, which worthy Praises do express;
Eyes, that Pry out, and Spie Examples Good,
Feet, that in ways of Mischief never stood;
Hair from those Heads, that Shav'd for Holy Vow,
Which as a Witness, Blessing Gods allow;
Breasts, from which do proceed all Good Desires,
And Lock all Secrets up, if need requires;
And Hearts, from whence Clear Springs of Love do rise,
VVhere Loyal Courage in the Bottom lies;
With Spleens, which never any Malice bore,
And Shoulders, which Distressed Burdens wore;
And humble Knees, that Bow to Ruling-Powers,
And Hands of Bounty, which on Misery Showres;
Kings Crowns, which Rule with Justice, Love, and Peace,
Whose Power serves from Slavery to Release.
Deep Speculations, which from Musing grow,
And Reasons proof, and Times experience show;
Witty Inventions, which Men Profit bring,
Inspired Verse, Poets to the Gods Sing;
VVhite Innocence, as Virgins Girdles wear,
Which Hymen only from their VVast doth Tear;
And Hymen's Torches, which Burn bright and clear,
Shew Jealousie and Falshood ne're come near;
Garlands of Laurel, which keep ever Green,
And for the Best of Poets Crowns have been.
The Olive-Branch, which is th'Emblem of Peace,
Is offer'd there for the VVorld's good Increase;
Mirtle is laid for Lovers that are True,
And for Misfortunes is the Bitter Rue;
Sighs, which from deep Compassion do flow out,
And Faith, which never knew to make a Doubt;
These Offer'd all with Gratefull Hearts in Ranks,
VVere Sprinkled with the pure Essence of Thanks:
Of Pen'tent Tears was th'Holy-water made,
Love's Flaming Fire was on the Altar laid;
The Priests, which all the Ceremonies there
Did execute, the four chief Virtues were:
These in Procession Honour high did Raise,
And with their Anthems sweetly Sung her Praise.

Fame.

Fame on her nimble Wings doth Actions bear,
Which Fly about and Carry 'em every where;
Some time she Over-loaden is with all,
And then some down into Oblivion fall:
But those that will to Fame's high Temple go,
Must first Great Honours Temple quite pass through.

The Temple of Fame.

This Temple is Divided in two parts,
Some Open lye, others are Hid as Hearts;
Some Light as Day, others are Dark as Night,
By times Obscurity worn out of Sight:
The outward Rooms are Glorious to the Eye,
In which Fames Image placed is on High,
And all the VVindows are Triangulars Cut,
Where one Face into Millions is put;
Its Form is Square, and like a Cube doth show,
Which how to Doubl', is hard for Men to know;
Echoes therein do like as Balls rebound,
From every Corner making a great Sound;
The Walls are hung with Chapters all of Gold,
In Letters Great all Actions there are Told;
The Temple Door is of Prospective Glass,
Through which a small Beam of our Eye can pass,
And this makes Truth so Difficult to know,
As a New World in the Bright Moon to show;
The Steepl' and Pillars are of Goose-quils Built,
And Plaister'd over with white Paper Gilt:
The Painting is with Ink as Black as Jet,
In several Works and Figures like a Net;
The Steepl' is High, and yet not very Light,
But as an Evening is 'twixt Day and Night.
Five Tongues, like Bells, through all the World do Ring,
And to each several Ear much News do bring;
Philosophers, their Tongue sounds Grave and Deep,
Th'Historians Tongue no better Sound doth keep;
Th'Oratours Tongue doth make great Noise; the Sound
Of Criticks harsh, as full of Flaws, is found;
The Poets Tongue is a small Bell, which oft
Doth change, whose Motion's quick, smooth, ev'n and soft;
The Ropes, they Hang by, one cannot well see,
For they are long small Threads of Vain-glory:
And when they Ring they make a fine Sweet Chime,
Especially when Poets Tongues do Rhime;
The Belfrey-man's a Printer by his Skil,
Who, if he pleases, may Ring when he will.
When Priests to Mattens or to Vespers go,
To the High Altar they Bow very Low;
This Altar, where they Offer unto Fame,
Is made of Arms, Brains, Hearts without a blame,
On which lies Wisdome, Wit, Strength, Courage, Love,
As Sacrifices to Great Fame above:
Virtues, Arts, Sciences, as Priests here stand;
But Fortune Prioress doth all Command;
Incense of Noble Deeds to Fame she Sends,
Nothing is Offer'd, but what she Commends;
For Fortune brings more into Fames high Court,
Than all the Virtues with their great Resort.

Fame's Library within the Temple.

In Fame's great Library are Records plac'd,
What Act's not there, into Oblivion's cast;
There stand the Shelves of Time, where Books do lye,
Which Books are ty'd by Chains of Destiny.
The Master of this place they Favour call,
Where Care the Door-keeper doth Lock up all,
Yet not so fast, but Brib'ry in doth Steal,
Cousenage, Partiality, and Truth, not reveal;
For Brib'ry doth through all the World take place,
And Offerings, as a Bribe, in Heaven find Grace:
Then let not Men disdain a Bribe to take,
Since Gods do Blessings give for a Bribe's sake.

The Fairy Queen's Kingdome.

The Fairy Queens large Kingdome got by Birth,
Is in the Midst and Centre of the Earth,
Where there are many Springs, and running Streams,
Whose Waves do Glister by the Queen's bright Beams,
VVhich makes them Murmur as they pass away,
Because by Running round they cannot stay:
But they do ever Move, and like the Sun,
Do constantly in Circulation run;
And as the Sun gives Heat, to make things Spring,
So VVater doth give Moisture every thing:
For these two Elements give Life to all,
Creating every thing on th'Earth's round Ball;
And all along, this Liquid Source doth flow,
Stand Mirtle Trees, and Banks where Flowers grow;
'Tis true, there are no Birds to Sing sweet Notes,
Yet Winds do Whistl', as Birds do with their Throats,
VVhose Sounds and Notes, by Variation, oft
Make better Musick than the Sphears aloft;
Nor is there any Beast of Cruel Nature,
But a slow, Crawling Worm, a gentle Creature,
VVho fears no hungry Bird to pick him out,
But safely Grasps the tender Twigs about;
There Mountains are of pure Refined Gold,
And Rocks of Diamonds perfect to behold;
VVhose Brightness is a Sun to all about,
VVhich Glory makes Apollo's Beams keep out;
Quarries of Rubies, Saphyrs there are store,
Crystals, and Amathists, and many more;
There polisht Pillars nat'rally appear,
Where Twining Vines are Cluster'd all the Year;
The Axel-tree, whereon the Earth turns round,
Is one great Diamond, by Opinion found;
And the two Ends which we do call the Poles,
Are pointed Diamonds, turning in two Holes,
Which Holes are Rings of pure Refined Gold,
And all the weight of that Vast World up-hold,
Which makes the Sun so seldome there appear,
For fear those Rings should melt, if he came near;
And like a Wheel the Elements are found,
In even Lays, and many Turnings round;
First Fire is in the Circle, as the Spoak,
And then comes Water, Air is but the Smoak,
Begot of both; for Fire doth Water boyl,
And causes Clouds and Smoak, which is the Oyl:
This Smoaky Child sometimes is Good, then Bad,
According to the Nourishment it had.
The outward Circle as the Earth suppose,
Which is the Surface, where all plenty Grows;
Yet Earth is not the Cause of its Self-turning,
But Fire within, nor is there fear of Burning
The Axel-tree, for that Grows hard with Heat,
And by its Quickness turns the Wheel, though great,
Unless its Outward weight do press it down,
Raising the Bott'm, and Bowing down the Crown.
But why, this while am I so long of proving,
Only to shew how this Earth still is Moving;
For not the Earth, but Heav'ns, as Wheels, likewise
Do turn, which we see daily with our Eyes:
Thus is made Good the Proverb, which doth say,
That all the World on Wheels doth Run its way;
And by this Turn such blasts of Wind do blow,
As we may think, they do like Wind-mills go;
But Winds are made by Vulcan's Bellows sure,
Which makes the Earth such Colicks to endure:
For he a Smith, sits at the Forge below,
And is Ordain'd, the Centre-fire to Blow;
But Venus Laughs, to think what Horns he wears,
Though on his Shoulders half the Earth he bears;
Nature makes him to Hammer Metall out,
Which she doth send through Mines the World about;
For He's th'Old Man, that doth i'th' Centre dwell,
She Proserpine, that's thought the Queen of Hell:
Thus Venus is a Tinkers Wife, we see,
Not a Goddess, as she was thought to be,
When all the World to her did Offrings bring,
And her high Praise in Prose and Verses Sing,
And Priests in Orders on her Altars tend,
And to her Image all Wise Heads did bend.
But O Vain ways, that Mortal Men did go,
To worship Gods, which themselves did not know!
'Tis true, her Son's a pretty Lad, and he
Doth wait as Foot-boy on Queen Mab, whom she
Makes to enkindle Fires, and set up Lights,
And keep the Door for all the Carpet Knights:
For when the Queen is gone to Bed asleep,
Then a great Revel Rout the Court doth keep;
Yet heretofore Men did so strive to prove,
That Cupid was the only God of Love;
But if Men could but to the Centre go,
They soon would see, that it were nothing so.
Here Nature Nurses, and doth send in Season
All things abroad, as she her Self thinks Reason;
VVhen she Commands, all things do her Obey,
And by her Countermand some things do stay;
For she stays Life by Druggs well us'd, beside
By healing Balms to deadly Wounds apply'd:
There Mab is Queen of all by Nature's will,
And by her Favour she doth Govern still.
O happy Mab, that is in Nature's Grace;
For she is always Young, being in this place.
But leaving Her, let's go and see the Sport
That's Acted in the Queen of Fairy's Court.

The Pastime and Recreation of the Queen of Fairies in Fairy-Land, the Centre of the Earth.

Queen Mab, and all her Company
Dance on a pleasant Mole-hill high,
To small Straw-pipes, wherein great Pleasure
They take, and keep just Time and Measure;
All Hand in Hand, Around, Around,
They Dance upon this Fairy-ground;
And when she leaves her Dancing Ball,
She doth for her Attendants call,
To wait upon Her to a Bower,
VVhere she doth Sit under a Flower,
To Shade her from the Moon-shine bright,
VVhere Gnats do Sing for her Delight,
Some High, some Low, some Middle strain,
Making a Consort very Plain;
The whilst the Bat doth Fly about,
To keep in Order all the Rout,
And with her VVings doth Soundly pay
Those, that make Noise, and not Obey.
A Dewy waving Leaf's made fit
For the Queen's Bathe, where she doth Sit,
And her white Limbs in Beauty shew,
Like a new fallen Flake of Snow;
Her Maids do put her Garments on,
Made of the pure Light from the Sun,
Which do so many Colours take,
As Various Objects Shadows make:
Then to her Dinner she goes strait,
Where all Fairies in Order wait;
A Cover of a Cob-web made,
Is there upon a Mush-room laid;
Her Stool is of a Thistle-down,
And for her Cup an Acorn's Crown,
Which of strong Nectar full is fill'd,
That from Sweet Flowers is Distill'd;
Flies of all Sorts both Fat and Good,
As Quails, Snipes, Partridge, are her Food;
Pheasants, Larks, Cocks, and any Kind,
Both Wild and Tame, you there may find;
And Amelets made of Ants Eggs new,
Of these high Meats she Eats but few;
The Dormouse yields her Milk good store,
For Butter, Cheese, and many more;
This Milk makes many a fine Knack,
VVhen they fresh Ants Eggs therein Crack;
Pudding, and Custard, and Seed-Cake,
Her well-Skill'd Cook knows how to make;
To Sweeten them the Bee doth bring
Pure Honey, gather'd by her Sting;
But for her Guard serves Grosser meat,
Of Stall-fed Dormice they do Eat;
VVhen Din'd, she goes to take the Air
In Coach, which is a Nut-shell fair;
The Lining's Soft and Rich within,
Made of a Glistering Adders Skin,
And there six Crickets draw her fast,
VVhen she a Journey takes in haste;
Or else two serve to Pace a Round,
And Trample on the Fairy Ground.
In Hawks sometimes she takes Delight,
VVhich Hornets are most Swift in Flight;
VVhose Horns instead of Talons will
A Fly, as Hawks a Partridge, Kill.
But if she will a Hunting go,
Then she the Lizzard makes the Doe,
Which is so Swift and Fleet in Chase,
As her Slow Coach cannot keep Pace:
Then on a Grashopper she'l Ride,
And Gallop in the Forest wide;
Her Bow is of a VVillow Branch,
To Shoot the Lizzard on the Haunch;
Her Arrow Sharp, much like a Blade,
Of a Rose-mary Leaf is made:
Then Home she's Called by the Cock,
VVho gives her warning what's the Clock;
And when the Moon doth hide her Head,
Their Day is done, she goes to Bed;
Meteors do serve, when they are Bright,
As Torches do, to give her Light;
Glow-worms for Candles Lighted up,
Stand on her Tabl', while she doth Sup;
And in her Chamber they are plac'd,
Not fearing how the Tallow waste:
But Women, that Inconstant Kind,
Can ne're fix in one place their Mind;
For she Impatient of Long stay,
Drives to the Upper-Earth away.

The Pastime of the Queen of Fairies, when she comes upon the Earth out of the Centre.

This Lovely, Sweet, and Beauteous Fairy Queen,
Begins to Rise, when Hesperus is seen;
For she is Kin unto the God of Night,
Unto Diana, and the Stars so Bright;
And so to all the rest in some Degrees,
Yet not so near Relation as to these:
As for Apollo, she Disclaims him quite,
And Swears, she ne're will come within his Light;
For they fell out about some foolish Toy,
Where ever since in him she takes no Joy;
She says, he always doth more harm than good,
If but his Malice were well understood:
For he brings Dearths by Parching up the Ground,
And Sucks up Water, that none can be found;
He makes poor Men in Feav'rish Plagues to lye,
His Arrows hot make Men and Beasts to Dye,
So that to him she never will Come near,
But Hates to see, when as his Beams appear:
This makes the Cock give notice, as they say,
That when he Rises, she may go her way;
And makes the Owl her Favourite to be,
Because Apollo's Face she hates to see:
For Owls do Sleep all Day, and in the Night
They Shout and Hollow, that th'are out of Sight;
And so the Glow-worm all Day hides his Head,
But Lights his Taper-tail, when he's Abed,
To wait upon the Fairest Fairy Queen,
VVhilst she is Sporting on the Meady-Green:
Her Pastime only is, when She's on Earth,
To Pinch the Sluts, which make Hobgoblin mirth;
Or changes Children, while the Nurses sleep,
Making the Father Rich, whose Child they keep:
This Hobgoblin's the Queen of Fairies Fool,
Turning himself to Horse, Cow, Tree, or Stool,
Or any thing to Cross by harmless Play,
As to lead Travellers out of their way;
To Kick down Milk-pails, cause Curds not to turn
To Cheese, or hinder Butter in the Churn,
Which makes the Farmers Wife to Scold and Fret;
That she can neither Cheese nor Butter get;
And then he doth Hold up, as they do say,
Hens Rumps, lest they their Eggs too fast should lay;
The Good-wife Sad, squats down upon a Stool,
Not at all thinking it was Hob the Fool,
And frowning Sits, then Hob gives her a Slip,
And down she Falls, whereby she hurts her Hip:
Thus many Pranks doth Hob play on our Stage,
VVith Tom Thumb, his Companion, the Queen's Page,
VVho doth like Piece of Fat in Pudding lye,
And almost Choaks the Eater going awry;
And when he's down the Guts, he Wind blows out,
Putting the Standers by into a Rout,
And shames the Eater with a foul Disgrace,
That never after he dare shew his Face;
Besides, in many places puts himself
In Baggs, and Budgets, as a little Elf,
To make his Bearers start away with fear,
To think that any thing Alive be there:
In this the Queen of Fairies takes delight,
In Summers even, and in Winters night;
And when as she is weary of these Plays,
She takes her Coach and doth go on her ways,
Unto her Paradise the Centre deep,
VVhere she the Store-house doth of Nature keep.

The Palace of the Fairy Queen.

The Palace of the Queen wherein she dwells,
Its Fabrick's built all of Hodmandod Shells;
The Hangings of a Rain-bow made, that's thin,
Shew wrondrous fine, when one first enters in;
The Chambers made of Amber that is Clear,
Do give a fine sweet Smell, if Fire be near;
Her Bed, a Cherry-stone, is Carv'd throughout,
And with a Butter-fly's VVing hung about;
Her Sheets are of the Skin of Doves Eyes made,
Where on a Violet Bud her Pillow's laid;
The Doors are Cut all of Transparent Glass,
Where the Queen may be seen, when she doth pass:
These Doors are Lock'd up fast with Silver-pins,
And when she goes to Sleep, our Day begins;
Her Time in Pleasure she doth pass away,
And will do so, untill the VVorld's last Day.

The Windy Gyants.

Of the Witches in Lapland that make Winds.

Lapland , this is the place, where Winds (as some
Believe) from Witches not from Caves do come;
For they do Draw the Air into high Hills,
And Beat it out again by certain Mills;
Then Sack it up, and Sell it out for Gain
To Mariners which Traffick on the Main.

Of the Sun and the Earth.

The Sweat of th'Earth through Porous Holes doth pass,
And is the Dew that lies upon the Grass,
Which (like a Lover Kind) the Sun wipes Clean,
That her Fair Face may to the Light be seen;
This Water for her sake he so esteems,
That all the Drops upon his Silver-beams
He Threads, like Ropes of Pearls, which to his Sphere
He draws, and turns to Crystal, when they're there;
Yet what he Gathers, he cannot keep all,
But of those Drops some down again do fall;
And then, when they upon her Head do Run,
He Clouds his Brows, as if he Ill had done;
For Lovers think they always do amiss;
Although this Water her Refreshment is:
When she by Sweat exhausted Grows and Dry,
Then doth the Sun moist Clouds squeeze in the Sky;
Or else he takes some of his Sharpest Beams,
And breaks the Clouds, from whence pour Crystal streams;
And then th'Earth Drinks too much, yet never Reels
Nor Dizzy grows, although she Sickness feels.

Of a Garden.

The Garden, which some Paradise do call,
Is plac'd just under th'Equinoctial;
Echoes there are most Artificial made,
And cooling Grottoes from the Heat to Shade;
The Azure Sky is always Bright and Clear,
No Gross thick Vapours in the Clouds appear;
There many Stars do Comfort the Sad Night,
The Fixt do Twinkl', and with the rest give Light;
No Noise is heard, but what the Ear delights,
No Fruits are there, but what the Taste invites;
Bruis'd Flowers through the Nose Fume to the Brain,
And Honey Dew doth fall like Showr's of Rain;
Various Colours by Nature intermixt,
Divert the Eyes so, as none can be Fixt;
Here Atomes Small on Sun-beams Dance all Day,
Whilst the sweet Zephyrus on th'Air doth Play;
Which Musick from Apollo bears the Praise,
And Orpheus at its Sound his Harp down lays;
Apollo yields, and not Contends with Spight,
Presenting Zephyrus with twelve Hours Light;
The Night, though Sad, in quiet Pleasure takes,
Listening with Silence when he Musick makes;
And when the Day doth come, she's Grieved so,
That she cannot hear Zeph'rus longer Blow;
And with her Mantle Black her Self inshrouds,
VVhich is Imbroyder'd all of Stars in Clouds:
Fine intermixing Walks there are of Pleasure,
Of Grass, and Sand, Broad, Short, and of all Measure;
Some Shaded for a Lovers Musing Thought,
VVhen his Mind is with Love's Idea fraught;
The VValks all Firm and Hard as Marble are,
Yet Soft as Down by Grass that Groweth there;
VVhere Daisies grow as Mushrooms, in a Night,
Mixt Yellow, White and Green to please the Sight;
VVhen it begins to Dawn, those Daisie's Heads
The Dew with little Drops all Over-spreads;
As thick as Stars are placed in the Sky,
So Daisies on the Earth as close do lye.
Here Emerauld Banks are, whence fine Flowers spring,
VVhose Sents and Colours Various Pleasures bring;
Prim-roses, Cowslips, Violets, and Daffadillies,
Roses, and Honey-suckles, and white Lillies;
Wall-flowers, Pinks, and Mary-golds beside,
Grow on the Banks Inrich'd with Nature's Pride:
On other Banks grow Simples, which are good
For Med'cines, well Applied and Understood;
There Trees do Grow, which Proper are and Tall,
Whose Barks are Smooth, and Bodies Sound withall;
Whose Spreading Tops are Full, and ever Green,
As Nazarites Heads, where Rasors have not been;
And Curled Leaves, which Bowing Branches bear,
By Warmth are Fed, for Winter ne're comes there:
There Fruits so pleasing to the Taste do Grow,
That with Delight the Sense they Overflow;
And Arched Arbours, where sweet Birds do Sing,
Whose Hollow Roofs do make each Echo Ring;
Prospects, which Trees and Clouds by Mixing show,
Joyn'd by the Eye, one perfect Piece do Grow;
Here Fountains are, where Drilling drops down Run,
Which Twinkle as the Stars, or as the Sun;
And through each several Spout such Noise they make,
As Birds i'th' Spring, when they their Pleasure take;
Some Chirping Sparrow, and the Singing Lark,
Or Quavering Nightingale in Evening Dark;
The Whistling Black-bird, with the pleasant Thrush,
Linnet, Bull-finch, which Sing in every Bush;
No Weeds are here, nor wither'd Leaves and Dry,
But ever Green, and Pleasant to the Eye;
No Frost to Nip the Tender Buds i'th' Birth,
Nor Winter-Snow to fall on this sweet Earth;
The Beauty of the Spring here ne're doth waste,
Because 'tis just under th'Æquator plac't;
The Day and Night by turns keep equal Watch,
That Thievish Time should nothing from them Catch;
And every Muse a several Walk injoys,
The Sad delights in Shades, the Light imploys
Her time in Sports; Satyrs in Corners Lurk,
And as their Gard'ners with great Pains do Work;
They Cut, Graft, Set, and Sow all with much Skil,
And gather Fruits and Flow'rs when th'Muses will;
And Nymphs, as Hand-maids, their Attendance give;
For which by Fame, the Muses make them Live.

Of an Oak in a Grove.

A shady Grove, where Trees in equal space
Did Grow, seem'd like a Consecrated place;
Through spreading Boughs the Quivering Light broke in,
Much like to Glass or Crystal shiver'd thin,
VVhich, when it is on a Green Carpet strew'd,
So in this VVood the Light all broken shew'd;
Yet this disturbed Light the Grove did Grace,
As Sadness doth a Fair and Beauteous Face;
And in the midst an antient Oak stood there,
VVhich heretofore did many Offerings bear;
VVhose Branches all were Hung with Reliques round,
To shew, how many Men the Gods made Sound;
And for Reward, long Life the Gods did give
Unto this Oak, that he should Aged Live;
His Younger Years, when Acorns he did bear,
No Dandriff, Moss, but all Green Leaves grew there,
Wch Curl'd hung down his Shoulders, broad they spred,
His Crown was Thick, and Bushy was his Head;
His Stature Tall, Full-breasted, Broad and Big,
His Body Round, and Strait was every Twig:
But Youth and Beauty, which are Shadows thin,
Do Fade away as if they ne're had been;
For all his Leaves and Smooth moist Rine was gone,
And he himself with Time all Bald was Grown;
VVhereas before his Arms fought with the Wind,
And his Bark did, like Skin, his Body bind,
VVhere he could Firm in all the Seasons stand,
And 'gainst all Blust'ring Storms his Face did bend;
He now by Age so Feebl' and Weak doth Grow,
That every Blast is apt him down to Throw;
His Branches all are Sear'd, his Bark grown Gray,
Most of his Rine with Time is Peel'd away;
The Liquid Sap, which from the Root did Spring,
And to each Thirsty Bough its Food did bring,
Is all Drunk up, there is no Moisture left;
The Root is Rotten, and the Body Cleft.
Thus Time doth Ruine, 'nd brings all to Decay,
Though to the Gods we still Devoutly Pray;
For this Old Oak was Sacred to Great Jove,
VVhich was the King of all the Gods above:
But Gods, when they Created things, they must,
Said they, all Dye at last, and turn to Dust.

Of a Wrought Carpet, presented to the View of Working Ladies.

The Spring doth Spin fine Grass-green Silk, of which
Was Wov'n a Carpet, like the Persian, Rich;
And all about the Borders there were spread
Clusters of Grapes, mix'd Green, Blew, White and Red;
And in the midst the Gods in sundry Shapes
Were curious Wrought, divulging all their Rapes;
And all the Ground was strew'd with Flowers, so
As if by Nature Set, they there did Grow;
Those Figures all like Sculptures did bear out,
Whether they lay on Flat many did doubt;
There Light and Dark all Intermixt was laid
For Shady Groves, where Priests devoutly Pray'd;
The Fruits hung so, as did Invite the Taste,
Small Birds with Picking seem'd to make a waste;
The Ground was wrought like Threads drawn from the Sun,
Which Shin'd so Blazing as a Fired Gun:
This Piece the Pattern is of Artfull Skil;
Art th'Imitator is of Nature still.

A Man to his Mistress.

O do not grieve, Dear Heart, nor shed a Tear,
Since in your Eyes my Life doth still appear;
And in your Countenance my Death I find,
I'm Buried in your Melancholy Mind;
But in your Smiles I'm Glorified to Rise,
And your pure Love doth me Eternalize:
Thus by your Favour you a God me make,
But by your Hate a Devils Shape I take.

THE CLASP.

Of Fairies in the Brain.

VVho knows, but that in every Brain may dwell
Those Creatures, we call Fairies, who can tell?
And by their several Actions they may frame
Those Forms and Figures, which we Fancies name;
And when we Sleep, those Visions, Dreams we call,
May by their Industry be Raised all;
And all the Objects, which through Senses get,
Within the Brain they may in Order set;
And some Pack up, as Merchants do, each thing,
Which they sometimes may to the Mem'ry bring:
And thus, besides our own Imaginations,
May Fairies in our Brain beget Inventions.
If so, then th'Eye's the Sea, where by the Gale
Of Passions, on Salt Tears their Ship doth Sail;
And when a Tear doth Break, as it doth fall,
Or wip'd away, they may a Shipwrack call.
There from the Stomack Vapours do arise,
And fly up to the Head, as to the Skys,
And, as great Storms, their Houses down may blow,
VVhere, by their Fall, the Head may Dizzy grow;
And when those Houses they Build up again,
VVith Knocking they may put the Head to Pain;
VVhen they Dig deep, perchance a Tooth make Ake,
And from a Tooth a Quarry-Bone may take,
Which they, like Stone, may Build their House withall;
If much Took out, the Tooth may Rotten fall.
Those that Dwell near the Ears are very Cool,
For they are both the South and Northern-Pole;
The Eyes are Sun and Moon, which give them Light,
VVhen open, Day, when shut, it is Dark Night.

The City of these Fairies is the Brain.

The Fairy's City in the Brain is found,
VVith Dur' and Pia-mater Compass'd round;
VVith a thick Scul it's Trenched all about,
And with great Art and Labour fac'd without;
The Fore-head is the Fort, which is Built high,
Instead of Centinels doth serve each Eye;
And that same place where Memory lies in,
Is great King Oberon his Magazine;
The Market-place the Mouth, when full, begun
Is Market-Day, when empty, Market's done;
The City-Conduit, where the Water flows,
Is with two Spouts, the Nostrils of the Nose,
And when these watery Spouts are not stopt close,
Then we do say, it is a Cold or Pose;
The Gates be the two Ears, when Deaf they are,
Then those two City-Gates the Fairies Barr:
This City's Govern'd, as most Cities be,
By Aldermen, and so by Mayoralty;
And Ob'ron King dwells never any where,
But in a Royal Head, whose Court is there,
Which is the Kernel of the Brain, if seen,
We there might View him and his Beauteous Queen:
Sure that's their Court, and there they Sit in State,
And Noble Lords and Ladies on them wait.

The Fairies in the Brain may be the Causes of many Thoughts.

When we have Pious Thoughts, and think of Heaven,
Yet go about, not ask to be Forgiven,
Perchance they're Preaching, or a Chapter saying,
Or on their Knees they are Devoutly Praying;
When we are Sad, and know no Reason why,
Perchance it is, because some there do Dye;
And some place may i'th' Head be hung with Black,
Which makes us Dull, yet know not what we Lack.
Our Fancies which in Verse or Prose we put,
May Pictures be, which they do Draw or Cut;
And when these Fancies fine and thin do show,
They may be Graven in Seal, for ought we know;
When we have Cross Opinions in the Mind,
Then we may them in Schools Disputing find;
When we of Childish Toys do think, a Fair
May be i'th' Brain, where Crowds of Fairies are,
And in each Stall may all such Knacks be Sold,
As Rattles, Bells, or Bracelets made of Gold;
Pins, Whistles, and the like may be Bought there,
And thus within the Head may be a Fair:
And when our Brain with Amorous Thoughts is staid,
Perhaps there is a Bride and Bridegroom made;
And when our Thoughts all Merry be and Gay,
There may be Dancing on their Wedding Day.

Of the Animal Spirits.

Those Spirits which we Animal do call,
May Men and Women be, and Creatures small;
And may the Body into Kingdomes wide,
As Muscles, Nerves, Veins, Arteries, Divide;
The Head and Heart, East and West-Indies be,
Which through the Veins may Traffick, as the Sea;
In Feavers may by Shipwrack many Dye;
For when the Blood is Hot, and Vapours high
Do Rise, as Waves they Toss, and when they Hit
Against Rocks of Obstructions, Life doth Split.
I'th' Head, th'East-Indies, Spicie Fancies grow,
Orange and Limon Satyr there doth Flow;
I'th' Heart, the West, where Heat the Blood refines,
The Blood's like Gold, the Heart like Silver-Mines:
Thus from the Head in Ships are Spices brought,
And in the Heart is Gold and Silver wrought.

The Warr of the Animal Spirits.

Sometimes these Animal Creatures when they Jarr,
Then all their Kingdomes rise up into Warr;
And when they Fight, we do Convulsions feel,
Cramps, Gouts in Toes, and Chilblains in the Heel.

Peace betwixt Animal Spirits.

VVhen they keep Peace, and all do well agree,
Then is Commerce in every Kingdome free,
And through the Nerves they Travel without fear;
There are no Thieves to Rob them of their Ware;
Those Wares are several Touches, which they bring
Unto the Senses, which Buy every thing:
But to the Muscles they have great Recourse;
For in those Kingdomes Trading hath great Force;
VVhich Kingdomes always joyn by two and two,
That they with Ease may Pass and Repass through.

The Body is the World of the Animal Spirits.

The Art'ries are the Ocean deep and wide,
The Blood the Sea, which Ebbs and Flows in Tide;
The Nerves the Continent they Travel through,
The Muscles Cities are they Traffick to.

The Body Similized to many Countries.

The Nerves are France, and Italy, and Spain,
The Liver Brit'n, the Narrow Sea each Vein;
The Spleen is Æthiopia, wherein
Is Bred a Peopl' of Black and Tawny Skin;
The Stomack is like Ægypt, and the Chyle
VVhich through the Body flows, is as the Nile;
The Head and Heart both Indies are; each Ear
Doth like the South and Northern-pole appear;
The Lungs are Rocks and Caverns, whence rise Winds,
Where Life, which passes through, great Danger finds.

A Complement sent to the Fairy Queen.

Sir Charls unto my Chamber coming in,
VVhen I was Writing of the Fairy Queen,
I pray, said he, when Queen Mab you do see,
Present my Service to her Majesty,
And tell Her, I have heard Fames loud report,
Both of her Beauty, and her stately Court.
VVhen I Queen Mab within my Fancy view'd,
My Thoughts bow'd Low, fearing I should be Rude,
Kissing her Garment thin, which Fancy made,
Kneeling upon a Thought, like one that Pray'd,
And then in whispers Soft I did present
His humble Service which in Mirth was sent.
Thus by Imagination I have been
In Fairy Court, and seen the Fairy Queen;
For why, Imagination runs about
In every place, but none can Trace it out.