 | Occasions Off-spring |  |
In prayse of winter.
Honour and Age inhabit the same spheare,
Winter is the antiquity of the yeare:
Grave signiour Hyems, so his hoary pate,
And snowy beard, denounce his aged state.
See but how like a statlye traveller,
Northward hee comes; Autumne's his harbinger,
That bids the trees unmask, unueyle their creasts.
That he may read submission on their breasts.
Whilst their green ofspring lowly fall, to greet
The potent presence of his stable feet.
The gawdy bankes pack up alas! here comes
No midwife Aprill, to unteeme their wombs.
Nay here the showr'd downe waters, stand amaz'd,
Rivers are Chrystallin'd, Neptunes hall is glaz'd,
Spouts have their pendents, paultry thatch receives
Translucent Chrystall, And adornes his Eaves.
Læda's a fable, but I here presume
To justifie, that Jove descends in plume.
And that the stupid Earth may know he comes,
The Heavens send down whole showers of Sugar plums.
Whilst streets are pav'd with Pearl: Let summer boast
Such pomp, such cates, and all my praise is lost.
Winter is the antiquity of the yeare:
Grave signiour Hyems, so his hoary pate,
And snowy beard, denounce his aged state.
See but how like a statlye traveller,
Northward hee comes; Autumne's his harbinger,
That bids the trees unmask, unueyle their creasts.
That he may read submission on their breasts.
Whilst their green ofspring lowly fall, to greet
The potent presence of his stable feet.
The gawdy bankes pack up alas! here comes
No midwife Aprill, to unteeme their wombs.
Nay here the showr'd downe waters, stand amaz'd,
Rivers are Chrystallin'd, Neptunes hall is glaz'd,
Spouts have their pendents, paultry thatch receives
Translucent Chrystall, And adornes his Eaves.
Læda's a fable, but I here presume
To justifie, that Jove descends in plume.
And that the stupid Earth may know he comes,
The Heavens send down whole showers of Sugar plums.
Whilst streets are pav'd with Pearl: Let summer boast
Such pomp, such cates, and all my praise is lost.
67
But here's not all of winter; you shall see
His providence for mortall wights, whilst hee
Locks up the graine in bosome of the Earth,
Till Ceres blesse it with a thriving birth.
How would the blade endure th' Æolian tugge,
But winter guards it with his snow-white fugge?
We may conclude his power, in that he can
Enjoyne the Alps a pennance as a man.
The saucie Dust checkt into mud, and mire,
Merits no mention, our reports are higher:
Summer breeds surfets, and infects the bloud,
Winter is haile againe, and makes all good:
Is beauty of esteem? then winter can
Boast, hee abstergeth Summers freckled tan:
Ladies so spruce to captivate mens sight,
Borrow March winds to make that sprusenesse white.
Winter makes men couragious, who dare
Dance upon Thetis lap at midsummer.
In Summers dayes even length, and lazinesse meet
Winters are short, The Proverbs, short and sweet.
Theres none so bad to be call'd dog-dayes here,
No no we move not in so base a spheare:
No scorching Sun offends, any man may
With a good faggot make a Summers day.
What entertainment to a winters toast?
VVhat Christmasse, pray, can June or July boast?
Summer alas hath no Æolian breath,
To rescue his perishing souls from death,
Flame-colourd hearth, even ready to expire,
Looks pale as ashes, Sol puts out the fire,
Trees strait are lopt then and their verdant locks
Borrow'd, to border ovt the Chymnie stocks;
Set out with trunks of trees, slumps, armes and all,
As if the Chymnie were some Hospitall:
In winter time the hearth stands alter wise,
And men with hands erected sacrifice.
Whilst in around the Priests of Bacchus sing
Ingenious Anthems, to their grape-crownd King:
In winter men at cold meat make a pish,
In Summer they are glad of such a dish;
Winter hath boyld, and bak't, and roast, Alas!
Summer turnes men, as men do beasts, to grasse.
VVinter makes warres of tease, who would not that
If peace and plenty have no praise, then what?
I might enlarge my self, but thus farre may,
Suffice to travell on a winters day.
VVho likes not this, a gods name let him run
Out of Gods blessings, into the warm sun.
His providence for mortall wights, whilst hee
Locks up the graine in bosome of the Earth,
Till Ceres blesse it with a thriving birth.
How would the blade endure th' Æolian tugge,
But winter guards it with his snow-white fugge?
We may conclude his power, in that he can
Enjoyne the Alps a pennance as a man.
The saucie Dust checkt into mud, and mire,
Merits no mention, our reports are higher:
Summer breeds surfets, and infects the bloud,
Winter is haile againe, and makes all good:
Is beauty of esteem? then winter can
Boast, hee abstergeth Summers freckled tan:
Ladies so spruce to captivate mens sight,
Borrow March winds to make that sprusenesse white.
Winter makes men couragious, who dare
Dance upon Thetis lap at midsummer.
In Summers dayes even length, and lazinesse meet
Winters are short, The Proverbs, short and sweet.
Theres none so bad to be call'd dog-dayes here,
No no we move not in so base a spheare:
No scorching Sun offends, any man may
With a good faggot make a Summers day.
What entertainment to a winters toast?
VVhat Christmasse, pray, can June or July boast?
Summer alas hath no Æolian breath,
To rescue his perishing souls from death,
Flame-colourd hearth, even ready to expire,
Looks pale as ashes, Sol puts out the fire,
Trees strait are lopt then and their verdant locks
Borrow'd, to border ovt the Chymnie stocks;
Set out with trunks of trees, slumps, armes and all,
As if the Chymnie were some Hospitall:
In winter time the hearth stands alter wise,
And men with hands erected sacrifice.
68
Ingenious Anthems, to their grape-crownd King:
In winter men at cold meat make a pish,
In Summer they are glad of such a dish;
Winter hath boyld, and bak't, and roast, Alas!
Summer turnes men, as men do beasts, to grasse.
VVinter makes warres of tease, who would not that
If peace and plenty have no praise, then what?
I might enlarge my self, but thus farre may,
Suffice to travell on a winters day.
VVho likes not this, a gods name let him run
Out of Gods blessings, into the warm sun.
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