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Clarastella

Together with Poems occasional, Elegies, Epigrams, Satyrs. By Robert Heath
Heath, Robert (fl. 1636-1659)

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Occasional POEMS
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ELEGIES.
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EPIGRAMS.
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The first Book.
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Epigrams. Lib. 2.
  
To the gentle Reader.
  
To the Lady Phanton.
  
On Lying.
  
Epitaph on John Newter.
  
A Question about Law.
  
To my Book-seller.
  
On Mr Fanning the Engastrometh.
  
On the Invention of Printing and Guns.
  
To Megæra.
  
On Plot.
  
To VV.B. a smal Poet.
  
The Stonie Age.
  
To Captain Nym.
  
To Mutus.
  
To Jealous.
  
On Taurus.
  
On Swill.
  
On Resolute Bat.
  
To Veta an old Shrew.
  
To Big.
  
To Mæchus.
  
On Captain Sharke.
  
To Boldface.
  
To Phydias a Painter.
  
On Chœril.
  
On Stupro.
  
On Swillmore.
  
On Brave.
  
On Pure.
  
On Dull.
  
On Sir Sullen Haughtie.
  
To his worthy friend T.S. Esquire.
  
To Pantagus.
  
To Lautus.
  
On Prophane.
  
On Bib.
  
The effects of Brainsick's letters.
  
On Mr Ap-Taffie Shentilman of Wales.
  
To an Irish-man.
  
To Spruce.
  
To Formall.
  
On Swift.
  
The Wisdome of this age.
  
On Priscus.
  
On Proud.
  
On Doctor Emperick.
  
On Bib.
  
On Nokes.
  
To his friend and Companion Mr H.N.
  
To Levinus.
  
On Vulpe.
  
Blessed Ignorance.
  
To a poore Begger.
  
On Thais her Bastard.
  
On Gamster.
  
Epitaph on the Preaching Cobler How.
  
On Sir John Lackland.
  
On Cosmo.
  
On Lowsi-Patch.
  
On Light.
  
On a fire in a Town.
  
Epitaph on Hocas Pocas.
  
To one that talked finely.
  
To Cosmo on his fair scolding wife.
  
On Silly.
  
To Momus.
  
On Bib.
  
To Moore.
  
To Madam Cr. wearing a lookinglass at her Girdle.
  
On Squire Huffe.
  
On Philip Soupe and Jone his wife.
  
On Poet Cordus a Rimer.
  
On Fusk.
  
To an old deformed Woman.
  
To Cit.
  
To Plagiarie.
  
To Lysippus a Barber.
  
To a corrupt Judge.
  
Lydia encountered.
  
On Gaming.
  
On Brag.
  
To Cosmo.
  
On Mounsieur Congee.
  
On Gripe.
  
To Harsh.
  
To Cupid.
  
On proud Mrs. Minx.
  
On three Knights without spurs.
  
On Copernicus his opinion who thought the earth went round.
  
On Doctour Love-Self.
  
To my smal friend with a great beard.
  
To Ignorant Zoile.
  
To the Reader.
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SATYRS.

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Epitaph on Hocas Pocas.

Here Hocas lies with his tricks and his knocks,
Whom Death hath made sure as his Juglers box:
Who many hath cozen'd by his Leiger demein,
Is presto convey'd and here underlain:
Thus Hocas he's here, and here he is not,
While death plaid the Hocas, and brought him toth' pot.
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