University of Virginia Library

EPIGRAMS, &c.

FIRST BOOKE.

I. To my Lady E. R. Commending his Muse.

Madam,

If weight or light in my weak lines you spie,
Weight from your mouth they take, Light from your eye.

II. To the same, On War.

VVar, that black word, compos'd of thousand ills,
Ladies ne'r speak nor think, but 'gainst their wils;
The Lute sounds pleasant, harshly stern alarm's,
They love not Armed Men, but Men in Arms.

III. On the Picture of Lovys the fourteenth King of France.

This, this is Hee that turn'd the storme to calme,
And fenc'd his Lillies with triumphant Palme,
And by his actions, so far greater then
His Age, proves Kings are never childeren.

IV. Antithesis, to the conclusion of Sannazarius his Epigram on the City of Venice, which when he has compared to Rome, he saies

In silence be the worlds Seven wonders lost,
Thy stately Hills Proud Rome, no longer boast.
See here! men dwell with Fish! a City stands
I'th' water! and the God thereof commands!
Neptunes great Realm's invaded thus, and tam'd!
Not Men (you say) but Gods, this Wonder fram'd,
That makes the wonder lesse; tis Venice's praise
That mortall Men, not Gods such Piles could raise.

V. To a Cadet.

What though thy Creditors call Pay? ne'r fret,
A Pound of care can't pay an ounce of Debt.

VI. An Epitaph, Upon Henry the eighth King of England, Translated out of Spanish.

VII. Another, on Queen Elizabeth.

VII. To Sim the Letcher.

I told Sim if he breath'd his last at Rome
His dust with Courtizans should mingled lie:
For Whores and Heretiques there find one Tomb.
He answer'd, that's a happy turne, for why
Alive but one at one time I enjoy'd,
But dead in that Elizian grave shall I
With thousands lie at once and not be cloy'd.

VIII. To Momus.

Momus , my Poems I have sent
Abroad ere the Carnavall is spent,
'Cause I would have Carpes cheap in Lent.

IX. On the same.

X. To Will: Ad. upon his Marriage.

Now thou hadst need be very mild and still,
Seeing thy Kate is wedded to her Will.

XI. On Wittoll:

VVittoll said, he hop'd his Love
Would a pretty Fortune prove.
As so she has indeed, for she
Is famous for Inconstancy.

XII. On Hornes.

VVhen as the Wife deserveth them
Why should the Man hornes weare?
Because he is his Wifes head, and
No Beast weares Hornes but there.

XIII. Epitaph, On Henry the fourth, surnam'd the Great, King of France.

Stay Traveller, see Honours fraile decay,
Then passe, and wash with teares thy further way,
Seek not in Sols whole round a nobler Tombe.
A Greater King ne'r laid in lesser Roome.
No Death ere drew more Rivers from swoln eyes,
No Funerall broke the aire with sadder cries.
Pallas was so shar'd in him 'twere a bold word
To say which sharpest was his wit or sword.
These drops o'r all the blubber'd marble spread
Are Pearl like Teares, Griefs gems, to crown him dead,
Weep too, lest thou be'st harder than these stones;
Then passing say, (in broken sounds and grones)
Although a Bruter hand rob'd him of Breath,
France own'd a Cæsar in brave Deeds and Death.

XIV. On Sir Iohn Suckling.

The Rose (the Splendor of Flora's Treasurie)
Smells sweeter when tis pluckt than on the Tree.
So odorous Suckling (when he liv'd a Flower
Able alone to make the Nine a Bower)
Is held since he by Times Sith mow'd has been
The Sweetest Plant in the Pierian green.
Nor envious Fate, nor Northern blasts together,
Though he was nipt i'th' bud can make him wither.

XV. On Spend-all.

Spend-all to Court, to learn some manners went,
But there in revelling, all his Manors spent.

XVI. To Leigh the Linguist.

I oft have heard thee spend much of thy lunges
Praising the copious French, Greek, Latine, Tongues.
English thou saist is poor, and much doth want
Emphatick Phrases, words significant
T'expresse the Ideas that the mind affords,
Tis easly helpt; Marry, you I want no words.

XVII. To Mr Robert Brownrigg.

Prophetick Delius, (to whom is seen
What is, and what shall be, and what ere hath been,
From whose instructive Genius, Meeter springs,
And how to touch the well-concording strings,)
Being banish'd Delphos (where he us'd to shew
Inquisitive Mortalls what should ensue)
To Abions Woollie Isle he came, to find
A Monastry where he might sit enshrin'd.
Upon thy Head he happily hath hit,
Where he raignes, mounted on a Throne of wit;
And by Prerogative has given to thee
Th'manor of Tempe, t'hold in Capite

XVIII. To Mrs Diana Willoby, Upon her marriage Day morning it being very dark and misty.

VVhy is the Sun so thrifty of his light?
Is it to shew a Lovers Day is Night?
No, I've the Reason, the God of amorous heat
Takes up your eyes to light his torches at;
So bankrupt Sol, the wandring Knight so fair,
'Can't borrow thence one beam to gild the air.
Look then, and rescue with a glimpse Divine
From almost conquering clouds his fainting shine.
As with us (Madam) so it fares with him,
Without you shine all beames are sick and dim.
Astrologers (the Lanthorn-men o'th' year)
Shall henceforth tell, that from Diana cleer
Sol borrowes light, not she from his pale Ray,
Since you make both his and our (Wedding) Day.

XIX. To his Rivall.

I prethee why, since Twins in Love we be,
May not one Mistris serve both thee and me?
Since in the Worlds embroidered Canopy
Ther's but one Virgo for the Gemini?

XX. The Rivalls Answer.

VVhilst both unmarried be there needs no strife;
One Mistris may serve two, but not one Wife.

XXI. To Sir Iohn Falstaffe.

Thou think'st Sack makes men fat, faith't makes them leane
If they drink much of't, 'gainst the wall I mean.

XXII. Upon the Picture of my Nephew Mr. Iohn Man.

XXIII. Of Sutes.

Taylors are Liquids, Lawyers be no Mutes,
Yet here they jump, they both do live by Sutes.

XXIV. Epitaph, On a scolding Woman, Sub persona mariti.

Here lies my Wife interr'd; oh how
Good is't for her quiet, and mine too.

XXV. The Golden Age.

The Golden Age, that gild such golden rimes,
Was but a Prophecie of our now Times,
Though somwhat antidated, or (Sans doubt)
Now the great Yeer of Plato's wheel'd about.
For this wherein Lawes Lives and all are sold
Is, or the Golden Age, or th'Age of Gold.

XXVI. To Kate common.

If like loves like, why should'st thou love the night
And deeds of darknesse, since thou art so light?

XXVII. On the same.

To sell her selfe is her chiefe care,
She is both her own shop and ware.

XXVIII. On the same.

Peacocks and Whores are neer ally'd,
Since both their Tailes maintaine their Pride.

XXIX. Occupations.

Tis an hard Time say Tradesmen, if it so
Continues, our Haire soon through our Caps will grow.
But whosoever breakes, who ever thrives,
Hoarse Lawyers will live, and sweet-tooth'd Midwives.
Especially the last, for young and old
Stir every stone, to make their trading hold.
T'wish their gain more than Lawyers is no sin,
They Jars, these wish agreement friends between;
They live by fallings out, these falling in.

XXX. To an Antidated Cuckold.

Thou said'st 'cause War makes Men scarce, Women common,
Thou would'st ne'r marry, lesse to som great woman.
Nor have thy hand thy tongue and oath beguild,
Thou'st marry'd a great woman, (t'wit) with child.

XXXI. Women strongest.

VVhy should wee women th'weaker vessells call?
The vulgar Reason, we put them next the wall?
When I've heard say one Ladies single hair
Can draw more than of Oxen twenty pair?
And lesse it be in constancy we men
Th'exceed in strength; nay th'Devill himself, for when
He showes his face he only makes (weak fiend)
Our hair, these make our flesh to stand on end.

XXXII. To Mal: Winter.

VVould'st know why thy name's Winter? ther's reason for't,
Th'art like a Winters Day, durty and short.

XXXIII. To curst Tib.

'Cause her low Husbands breeches are so short,
Long-shank't Tib raves, and beates the Taylor for't;
Peace Tib, what need you care what weares the Elfe?
O, cry a mercy, you'd weare them your selfe.

XXXIV. To loan Tosse-pot

Amongst couragious drinkers thou
Dost surely bear the Bell.
Though like a founder'd Jade thou look'st
Yet thou draw'st passing well,

XXXV. Campo-musæ.

Silvan by wagging of a bough,
Did becken me forth to see how
The Spring (the fair mother of Flowers)
Had given new coats to whistling Bowers.
In this gay Palace of the Spring
To hear May's harmlesse Syrens Sing.
And teach Nimph Eccho aires, I spread
My limbes upon a spicy bed
Of sweet though ordinary flowers
Perfum'd with West winds balmy showers,
Here many a theam my fancy hit,
Each object drew my thoughts to it,
I saw the Marygold (Clytie pale)
Her beauty to the Sun unvaile,
As if she hop'd he would be to her
No longer coy, but came to woe her.
I thought no Plant in all the Bower
So like a woman as this Flower,
'Cause when she feels a litle heat
She opes her leaves and wide doth spread.
But she doth this whilst the Worlds eye
Doth brave the East, and gild the skie;
When he descends into the maine
And makes night shee shuts-close again.
With that my Muse her Theam did vary,
Knowing Women do the contrary.

XXXVI. To my Lady Venetia Grey.

Madam, from whom vertue might copies take,
And Nature learn more beauteous forms to make,
Chide not my Muse, your humblest servant, when
Even in your softer sex she spares not sin,
Since this e're was and e're shall be her care
To tax the crimes but yet the persons spare.

XXXVII. To the same, on her Wedding day morning.

Good morrow to the Bride, who (only) can
Show us the Day, Sol like a Servingman
Attends her windowes, whilst she sits undrest
He Westward seems, though newly rose i'th' East.

XXXVIII. To my Poetique friend, I. S.

Daphne is star-proof, fork'd bolts never,
Her flourishing trunk could split or sever;
She having then secured thine head,
What need'st thou foul tongues thunder dread?

XXXIX. To Poetaster.

Of Admiration Ignorance is Sire,
But I know thee, therefore I don't admire.

XL. To fiery Face.

Telling som pranks of thee (plump Jack) you blam'd
Me, and desir'd, lest I should make ye asham'd,
Your name to hide; why fear'st thou that (Jack) tush,
Thy face is shame-proof, Scarlet cannot blush.

XLI. Too a covetous Puritan.

A crosse you dare not see, for you
From that and neck-weed feare your due.

XLII. To the same.

Crosses you hate, and wish them banish'd hence,
Reform your Purse first, cast away your pence.

XLIII. To a Detractor.

I thank thee Aristarchus or stark Asse,
For taking with a sowre Tobacco face
My Lines, in Snuff, still spitting on each Letter,
For this makes me review and make them better.

XLIV. Past recovery.

VVhen sage Lycurgus, Sparta's Law inactor,
Made mulcts for this and th'other Malefactor,
No Penalty for Paricides he set,
Thinking none would so foule a crime commit.
So Æsculape the Physic Deitie
Gave salves for every other Malady,
But none for Loves sore, 'cause he thought indeed
No Liver so corrupt was such a Plague to breed.

XLV. Perfumed corruption.

You that quaffe Amber, and with Musk-cats lie,
Embalming your corrupt bodies 'fore you die;
Who rottennesse to make sweet by Perfumes think
Lose coine and time to gain a dearer stink.