University of Virginia Library

II. FOR THE KINGE.

Seinge.

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

From such a face quhois excellence
May captiuate my souerainges sense,
And make him, Phœbus lyk, his throne
Reseinge to some young Phaeton
Quhosse skilles and unluckey hand
May proue the Ruine of this Land,
Vnlesse Grate Ioue, doune from the skayes
Beholding our calamities,
Strick with his hand that can not er
The proud vsurping character,
And cur, tho' Phœbus er, our voe:
From such a Face as may work so,
Quhersoeuer he has his being,
Blis my souerainge & his seing.

Heiringe.

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

From Jests profaine and flatring toungues,
From Baudie tailles, from beastly songes,
From after-supper suites that feir
A parliament & byes it deir;
From Spanisch tretties that may wound
Our countries peace, our Gospell sound;
From Ioues fals freinds that wald intyss
My souerainge from heauens paradize;
From profeitts such as Achabes wer,
Quhosse flattring smouthes my souerainges eare,
With fanceis more nor hes maker feiring;
Bliss My soueraing & his heiring.

Taistinge.

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

From all fruittes that are forbiddin,
Such for wich old Eue was chiddin;
From Bread of Labowrers, Suyet & toyle,
From the poore widowes mythe & oyle;
From the canditis poysoned baittes
Of Jesuitts and the desaittes,
Italian sallets, & Romisse d[r]ogis,
The milk of Babells proud houris duggis;
From Blood of Innocents oftin vrongit
From thair estaits thats from them throngit;
From Wyne that may disturbe the braine,
And from the dangerous figges of Spaine;
At all banquetts & al feasting,
Bliss my soueraing and his taisting.

Smellinge.

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Quher Myrre and Incence are often throwen
One Altars built to gods unknowen,
O lett my soueraing neuer smell
Such damd perfumes; thy'r fitt for hell.
Lett no such sent his nossethirles staine,
From smells that poyson may the braine,
Heauens still preserue him. Nixt I craue
Thow will be pleassed, Grate God, to saue
My soueraing from a Ganemed
Quhosse hoourische breath hath pouer to lead
His Maiestie such way he list;
O neuer lett such lippes be kist;
From any breath so far excelling
Bliss my soueraing & his smelling.

Feillinge.

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

From prick of Conscience, such a stinge
As kills the soule, Heauens blisse my king;
From such a brybe as may withdraw
His thoughts from Equitie and Law;
From such a smouth and bardles chine
As may prouocke or tempt to sin;
From such a hand quhosse palme may
My soueraing leid out from the way;
From things pollutit and wncleine,
From all thats beastly and obschene;
From quhat may set his soule one reilling,
Bliss my soueraing & his feillinge.

Epiloge.

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The attribution of this poem is questionable.

[And nou, grate God, I humbley pray]

And nou, grate God, I humbley pray
That thow may take the selue away,
That keipis my soueraings Eiyes from woing
The thing that may be his vndooing.
And lett him heir, good God, the soundis
As weill of men as of hes houndis.
Giue him a taist, and truly too
Of quhat hes subiects undergo.
Giue him all feilling of ther wois,
Then sune no doubt his royall noisse
Will quickly smell thesse Rascalls furthe,
Quhosse blacke deids haue ecclipsit his worth;
Then found syne scurgit for ther offences,
Heauens blisse my soueraign and his senses.