The Poems of Thomas Pestell :: :: University of Virginia Library

A Virgin faire & pure fowre Lustre's old
A gratious Wife till twyce so many told,
Fiue more she Past in Turtle widowes state
And sawe hir ofspring runne above the rate
Of all those year's. You sweet & happie race
Blest wth the Beauties of hir soule & face,
In prints so Liuely, Louely, bright & cleare,
(As scarce in all the Land the Like appeare.
Come helpe me reare theise trophees of my verse
Vpon your famous granddames, Bel-dam's herse.
Bynd all your browes in Bayes: no teare lett fall!
This is hir tryumph, & not funerall.
Who prowd fowle children in their Image gett
Borne, & conceiu'd in old Originall debt,
Who bloudie rackt Lands, wth poore orphan's curse
Leaue dull vile heyres that meane to make them worse;
Howlings are iust for theise. But you shall wrong
Hir Spottlesse Soule; vnlesse you Lift a Song,
From all your ioyned brests, that may rebound,
Against the starrs till heavên & earth resound.
Whilst hir Imperiall eagle soule out-flies
To take that crowne, beyond those Alpes of skies;
Two crouns of Age & Virtue here she wore,
The Last is Glorie, Lasting Euermore;
Wch Gods owne Holynes putts on: at Sight
Whereof, That Conclaue Sings in high delight.

To [Henry Holland]

Though short to merite and raise them all.
Your meritts yet may if theise dull lynes fall

On the Packington Shepperdesse: 1624.

By fayre day-light my fairer Kala rose
My Shepperdesse, in homely weeds to close
Hir flowre of youth; & beauties so to shrowd
As when Sols head is thrust into a Clowd.
Just in Convexure of hir damaske cheeke
With actiue force hir marble fingers seeke
To make surprizall of a bloudie foe
Who late forsooke hir nose to pitch belowe.
With that the morning Ayre hir softer skinn
Had reacht; & as a gentle wynd lett in
To topps of trees; wth easie motion waues
The trembling Leaues; so she hirself behaues.
She twice hir gracefull armes to North & South
And to an Ovall twice extends hir mouth.
Hir bodie then in Bodies overlayd
And bones of flesh, in bones of fish convayd;
Those on a Vesture wrought from tender ryne
Which curious hands of Flemish dames entwyne
Whiter then Lillies, snow, or morrow milke
She runns togither wth a worme of Silke.
Orê hir Refulgent head a weed she throwes
Ample & redd; It from hir middle flowes
Doune to hir decent foote; & bordering grace
Deriues from grass-green silk & siluer Lace.
Then she descends on hir bright leggs to pull
Two purple Cases, wrought of purer wooll,
With azure filletts bound: Lowe shoes & playne;

Scorning or height from art or forme to gayne.
Hir back a robe, hir neck a ruff; A tyre
Hir head adornes whose neither globe nor spyre,
Yet sprightly dresse exacts to reare the frame
Counsell of witch, or preist, or deare Madame.
The Liuely water from the fontaine skipps,
Into the ioyfull basyn, where she dipps
Hir dainty hands, & spread vpon hir face
Wipes of no paint; but cleares the natiue grace.
Hir Sillie Corydon is rom'd on high
From whence he may his Litle flock descrie,
For whose Repast, she thinks of somthing rare.
And first an homebredd plant pure, white & faire
Into a woodden vessell Louely browne
She slowly putts, & softly setts it downe.
Then sixe round things, that meaner sheppards know
Which neither yet on earth nor water growe
Coue'rd wth slender filmes, whose inner parts
She to a golden liquor straight Converts
Forc'd by an Engine all of glittering tynn.
Theise she infuses, & to them Letts in,
Strange fruits, & things deriu'd from stronds remote,
All which wth christall Liquor sett a floate
Or some more pretious moisture, she Contriues
And wth hir Engin she togither driues:
That cas'd in Canvase, fastned wth a string,
And sodd, will make a dinner for a king.

Epithalamion. 1622.

1

Amyntas come away.
The daystar climbs his loftie seate.
October is in mydst of May
And Autumne clad in Vernall heate,
The sunn. the skie, the trees are seene

In Lustie redd, & blew, & greene,
Tis Dians chase, & Iunoes pride
The Graces Grace, & Nymphs delight
To wayte vpon thy spotlesse bride
While Hymens flame & robe are cleare & bright.

2

Faire Phillis, happie Mayde
T'is such a Cupid bidds thee rise
As is both wise, & staied,
Hae's lost his wings, & gaynd his eyes.
No Courtly Fawne, or Satyre rude,
Seeks to defile, or to delude,
Amydst thy blushes boldly tast
Ripe Ioyes of Loue, & pure delight
A match of mynds; two Soules embrac't
While Hymens flame, & robe are pure & bright.

3

Not all hir white & redd,
Fresh youth, & spring of princely blood,
Mou'd him to trie the Bridall bedd
Nor what the Bore calls store of good
Nor was his knighthood, shape, or Land,
Hir motiue to this holy band,
Playne faith & truth, & Loue well tried,
Wrought vp this knott so firme & right.
Such may they evermore abyde
While Hymens flame & robe are pure & bright.

Liuerie puddings sent to Mrs LaField, lately Mrs Cage. Dr Montforts daughter.

[1]

In Feild so fresh, in Fort's so faire
And on a Movnt so rising
If Lowly thoughts well planted are
To keepe out all despising.

2

If as the larke in Feild or Cage
Hir heavenly notes retayning
Your soule vnchang'd (as we præsage)
Be free from harsh disdayning.

3

If Countrie things you can abide
Wthout or pompe, or priding
Like Indian Froes that saue their hyde
Have nothing for their hyding.

4

Then here is naked for the nonce
A skinn that hae's no bloud in,
Fullfill'd of flesh, yett hae's no bones
And all is but a Pudding.

On Curtains at Dr Tower's house. 1619.

Your Ceilings (Sr) in humane learning beene
The tester, & the Curtains deeply seene
In Diuine storie. I haue often heard
That Curtaine sermons maried men haue feard.
But theise preacht patiently wthout abuse
And doctrine wisely had, as well as vse.
Adam & Eue most innocently stood
Starke belly nak't; Noah steer'd his horse of wood,
Here at the whales mouth panting Ionas lay,
There Samson wth his whale too, Dalilah.
For grant that Ionas had a dang'rous fitt,
Yet Samson sure was in the deeper pitt.
Yong Gamesters marke, marke wt theise Curtains say
Whales cast men vp; but whores cast 'hem away.
You Papish that Maynteyne your Laymens Looks
On Images, & Pictures call their bookes,

Your Kitchen-stuff & supreme Poinct foregoe,
Wee'l grant you this; Theise Curtains proue it so.
And Puritanns, that vestments steale away
Woont holy walls & Altars to arraie,
Giue back such Coverings as theise Cortains are
And hang your parlours wth your notes thredbare

To BBpp Guilty. of Keeping Promise.

Change thy stale promise. Breake thy Word; For [he]
That long keepes promise whole; may famish mee.

Ad Eundem

Ieast on: & thinke I do but ieast in these!
I vowe the next, shall name your Diocese.

To the D. of Sar: Stilo novo.

Persist to bee & doe good; So shall I
Still date your Prayses stylo veteri.
Delude; & at yow Liuing I will laugh
Out, in new stile, some Vengeful Epitaph.

A Song of & to the D. of Sarum

1

My noble Deane, there bee beneath my Prayse
Things Scansorie; ordaind to cracke & blaze,
Imperfect meteors; most vnequall mixt;
But you so brauely fixt
In starrlike Splendor, Sweet & natiue rayes
Alltho you need it not; I needs must prayse.

2

Earth's Sonnes be proud, who fight to skale the skie
Like stubborne vapors when exhal'd on high;

Wanting materiall In-bred Light, from thence
To hurle an Influence;
Whyle Worth-full mynds advancd to powrefull place
More lowlie waxe, & shine in better Grace.

3

Poore Snayles be proud, whose gold & siluer slime
Betray the guiltie path, by wch they clymbe;
Keepe close in painted shells; or stretching show
Their hornes to vs belowe;
Whyle featherd Soules, on wings of Learned & Good
Sing sweetest notes, & best are vnderstood.

4

As Drinks & Poysons, fyre & freeze the blood,
Promotion works; if not both Great & Good
The taking Stomach proues; or if it not
Take that rare Antydote
Of Temper Iust: Which in his owne depth dwells
Like a full Sea: which neither shrinks, nor swells.

5

My Prophecies, your merrits, now are come,
Full neare Episcopabilissimum.
The morall of this Song will soone appeare
When once you fill that spheare,
And fayre refreshing radiance to me lend
Me your worst Servant, most vnworthie frend.

The Virtuous Louer.

If virtuous so, so witty, you, you deeme
As I esteeme;
Pitie me first; which is of Graces best,
The croune & test.

If your mynds garden want that fleure d'elise,
The Soyle is vice.
A rawe, moyst, weedie, rotten, banefull Fenn,
To poyson men:
Or an inchanted plott, where Snakes of hell,
And tempters dwell.
Then loue me too; taking & doubling fitt
The point of witt.
For Loue for Loue is Royall change, & showes,
A wittye close.
Leaue thy Lethargique, dull & Silly No.
Flat fooles say so.
And synce nor vitious, nor fond Loue is myne
ô giue it thyne.
Or either way, a Complication make,
Or giue, or take.

To Mr Hen: Robynson. a Receipt

Take a good gelding Colour Baye,
A Chestnutt, or a dapple Graye:
Well Winded, barrelld round & sound;
And (pales except) that knowes no bound;
Mount him when Larks salute the morne
Then let your Huntsman's Bugle horne,
Convent a pack of hounds well flewd,
Spotted with sand, or blackt, or blew'd.
Whose thunder in the Vale or Wood.
Turn's gowtie Whey Curds into blood.
That swells the Veines so high & hote,
It clearely runns without a knott
Marke when your palfrey foam's & bleeds
How the cold drilling Sapp that breeds
Your paine, & tickling creep's about
Your ioincts; in sweat comes trick'ling out.
No longer naturall but become

Hence forth a Gowte ad placitum.
This medcine, or this Counsill twice
Take everie Weeke; T'is not of Nice,
Nor all allow'd; yet neare your Trent
Much Sounder is then theirs was meant

Epitaph on Mr Sacheverill of Leic.

Who dare prophane thee, noble rare Deuine.
Thou mightie workeman in the Sacred mine.
Behold his hand thus deepe engraues thy Praise
Whose mynd thou didst wth Æmulation raise
One lyne shall thy Reproachers all confute
Those Beasts dislikd that coud not reach their fruict.

1638. A Tryumphall (in stead of Elegie) on the victorious & safe passage of the noble gent'man Mr Gabr: Armstrong from Earth to heaven.

1

Fond Greif at Good menns Graues, a Riddle found
T'is Water spilt vpon no ground.
To wish green Fruict: wth store
Of showrs to clapp deep-sayling barkes
And at th'arriualls, rore.
His madd mistake, or more,
That pitch'd; & watch'd, but wept to catch his larks.

2

Some Maro me a suddaine Neptune make
My Mace, a conqu'ring penn to shake,
And lay both ioynd, & waue;
Away from this his Geniall Bedd
Wch you misscall a Graue
For Saincts deceas'd may haue
Repose in death, but never cann be dead.

3

Take of theise Blacks & Scutcheons from his Herse
Wth raggs of Elegyack verse.
Goe mourne, & paint, & whyne;
Ore those are Sepulcherd aliue
The Foole, the Churle, the Swyne.
To his tryumphant shrine
While we this Sainct with acclamations driue.

4

For whympring Sotts, bring me a Legion bright
Of angell Mayds all clothd in white
And all their beam's vnbound.
Carnation wasts reflect their heads
With rosie chappletts cround.
In danse & Dyrge around
Wth chaynes of Pearle & Rubyes, for their beads.

5

Bend me a skie then of Illustrious youth
Stuck full of everie virtue's truth
To ring that virgin trayne.
In one, Ouation all their voyces mixt
Their feet one measure straine
Till heaven resound againe
And prints on earth for evermore be fixt.

6

Herald blaze Madams wastcoat: trick the blood
That Spowts out great, but dropps no good;
Pure Argent: Sables fine
That make the brauest Coats to vs belonge
Not Cæsar were Diuine
But matchd in Virgills Lyne
Who wou'd not sell his Armes for such a Song?

On Convalescence of the Lady Visc: Beaumont, a Soliloquie

1

Leaue tampring or attempting it
Poore priest, you want both worth & wytt
To value this Convaluit.

2

Stale Poëts common feet, or place,
Steale not to vaump, assume, or face,
Hir out with goddesse, Nymph or Grace.

3

Right Reuerend old king Harrie rime
Lyes rustie; like a broken chyme,
Which went wth prayr'es in olden tyme.

4

With, Harts Delight. hir health advance,
or Goodnes Retrive. So by chance
A fidler may syrname a danse.

5

What if you presse with bigg compare,
Of Iewells Found or Lympide Ayre
Calme Seas, or Temples in repayre.

6

Revested Earth, in flowr'es & corne
From Iawes of Darkenes Light Reborne
Withering expressions all outworne.

7

Italians tell their tale amisse,
T'is true beyond, aboue all this,
If they meane this Sainct Bridget is

Letters & Epigramms

To my right & true freind Mr Ed: Lafeild. archd. of Essex.

Deare Sr, not for your name to tunes will sound
Of Rector—Arch—& prebendarie round;
Nor for some Mastership may chance to fall
Within the Close, close to your Cathedrall
(When êre it falls) Nor that you are in blood,
To that most exelent preist, lesse great then Good
Who in his highe & iust Meridian Light
Scatters the bold delusions of the night;
And strives t'vnblynd in all, as best he cann,
The Darkling papist: darling Puritann.
That Litle, but great Masterpeice of men
That achmè of our Ioyes. Ô Mactè then,
Crie Mactè to his Grace, & honour too
Which (though he thinks not so) I sweare, I doe.
For ciuile, (no Ecclesiastick end)
This Course lame ragge of fustian verse I send,
Wherein playne dounright honest hartspunn words.
The Inside of a Louing heart affords.
And for I mist in London where I drewe
And rung your bell an hop'd for enterveiwe,
This hasts to tell you; that I Loue you still,
And will; (for here I'aue absolute freewill.)
But more I cannot, for my Loue is such,
That putt the Word More to't, yt Word's too much.
Yet too much Loue can take vp no manns hart
To him that is of infinite desert.

Le Vostre.

On Corne

Corne swore his wife no felow had: yet spedd
At length, & found hir felowe, in his bedd.

On Madame Fine.

Fine Madams tongue 'gainst Plurall Liuings moves,
But Plurall Servants on hir Corps she Loues.
And yet but one the Right Incumbent proues.

Dialogue.

Shall Prigg your verses for his owne report?
Perchance he hath some order for't in Court.
No. you must take some order wth him for't.
Not I. Poore thing. He does it but in Sport.

Sensuall Loue: Will Senseles proue.

Thou thinkst thou Beautie see'st; But Cannst not knowe
Or butt beleiu'est Some foole that told thee so.
Suspend thy nose-witt, till flesh in hir Vrne,
Past nine muskcatts Lifes, to Sweet Powder turne.
Say thou mayst touch or tast: if that be all
Thy Loue is Brute, thou a meere animall.

Valedict: to Mr W: & Mr Thr. 1637.

To Duall freinds, both Singular.
Which neare, yet farr above me are,
Anone, Beyond me too, too farr.
Sr I this Angle's double theame,
For Rude, & Scornd; in darke to dreame,
(So cruell suddaine all bereft
Of two such gentle Lights) am left.
I can no more, no further veiwe
You, that is, him: him, yt is you.
Yet freindly Vantage hae's my Verse
To Looke, & good or badd reherse
Full in your face, vnblushing, &
To touch, to take, to kisse your hand.
Enioy your Sweetnesse all the way

And on you safe returnd to stay
Wayting, observing frowne, or smile,
Still hearkning how you like the stile.
And shou'd you turne it out of dore
It wou'd come backe againe for more.
(Which I shall never vnderstand
Vntill I see't vnder your hand.)
So passe it Sr So passing kinde
I might surpassing freindship find;
Freindship, alas! too rich a theame,
Forgiue me this; it is my dreame.
Which if you faire interprett, this
Poore dreamer, Sr Yr Servant is.

The Patchd Song. 1636.

1

Thou mayst be proud, & bee thou so for mee
Yet knoe there is a death for me & thee.
When my Salt teares, in akorne cupps shall proue
A Balme for wounded Loue
Whyle broken Sigh's in Silkeworme baggs vpbound
Sadd reliques of my dying heart are found.

2

Death will putt out those Iewells of thine eyes
Which now deride both Indies, & ye skies,
Thy daintie flesh in softer frailtie, must
Be lost in blended dust.
No herald then to trick or blaze thy birth
Thyne armes & thy Supporters all of earth.

3

And when Imperious fate shall lay thee by
To mixe with myne, thy Limbs will not be shie
Nor in cold blood thy brest, or other Part
At losse of honour start,

Nor will the Charnell house, our equall shrine
Make neat distinction; twixt thy bones & myne.

The true Mercurialist.
That's th'Epigrammatist
Martiall, or Martialist.

Who at the Sharpe Penns Point, can Malice keepe
Splitt Envies gall; & strike Disgrace asleepe;
Whom Hermes armes wth Snakes & rodds; Derides
Him who long swords, him who short gunns prouides,
Charg'd with round Iron-bullet Ieasts, still goes
Cocksure; & clapps i'th bosome of his foes.

To his Detractour. for Versefying.

In Prose thy proud heart burst: & on ye Breach
May Surgeons hall, doctrine & Vses preach.
Or liue, from rotten lungs to Parbreake drosse
May bring thy neck at length t'endure a crosse.

On Ascension Day

[Io: Bea:

Yee yt to starrs direct your curious Eyes
And send your mindes, to walke ye spatious skyes
See how ye maker, to your selues, you bring[es]
Who fixt his highest steps in humble thinges
And hauing man aboue ye Angells plact
The lowly earth more then the heauen hath gract
Poore clay, each creature thy degree admires
ffirst god in thee a liuinge soule inspires
Whose ghostly beames, haue made thee farr more bright
Then is ye sunn, ye spring of corp'rall light
Hee restes not here, but to himselfe thee takes
And thee deuine by wondrous vnyon makes
Where shall wee then finde out a worthy place
ffor his exalted flesh? heauen is too base:

Hee [scarce] would touch it in his swift ascent
The orbes flee backe (like jordan) as hee went
And yet hee daignd to spend some yeares on earth,
As payinge thankfull trybute for his birth
But now his body, all godes workes excells
And hath not place but god in whom it dwells]

To Mr Iohn Beamont

Desease & synne, wth wild vnmanly ryme
That vice (in one) and sicknes of ye tyme
Are catching all, & proofe, proclaimes ye last
A runninge plauge, it spreades soe farr, soe fast
But strong & healthfull verse, like vertue leaues
(Saue ye delight & wonder hee receaues)
No glad infection in ye learners brayne
To make him hitt vpon ye like againe;
How comes ye relish then, & charme of thine
To print such smoothnes in these lynes of myne?
My wordes so fyl'd, & beaten round & straight
fflow not alone in number, but in weight,
That weake discerning eyes at first may misse
And thinke thy webb, noe cleaner wrought then this
Noe cause of this saue strong desire in mee
But for ye Springs of art & nature bee
In thee soe mixt & swell soe cleare & high
All penns replennisht are yt can come nighe
I flatter not t'is but ye schollers parte
To celebrate ye master of his Arte
Our king, ye Poëtes king decrees thee soe
To whose just doome I strict alleagiance owe.

Divine Poems: Vpon the text of sacred scripture

Eccles: 12:1

When (Solomon) was vested in his throne
sole supreame souraigne; regent Lord alone
Hee craved wisdome did obtaine, the same
and their withall: an Indian stocke of gaine
Honour did hommage, did attend his throne
riches advancd him: more then anyone
Hee gaue his heart to gladnesse & to folly
madnesse did medicine, his melancholly
Let loose the reines vnto all sensuall lust
pampred his palate, to delight his gust
Dainties delicious vians fowles & fish.
alike all portiones in a Lordly dish.
Plays maskes & motions did bewitch his sight
with numerous concubines: hee spent the night
Such minstrallsy as the inchanter eare
of roaring revelists! did never heare
Hee and she singers with melodious notes
like phillomell turne warbling from his throate
Psallteries and timbales: stringed instrumentes
inchanting musicke for his solacementes
In stately structures: hee was much luxurious
in robes and rayment gallant extreame curious
Gardens like Edenfruits: and for pleasure
Vast miniralls of gold and silver treasure
When with theise delights: his heart had done
hee thus concludes: all vaine beneath the sun
Thus glutted with imaginary ioyes
his vexed spiritt disclaimed theise terrene toyes
Let thi[s suff]ice. by way of introduction
The sequell serues for solid sound instruction.
Remember (here) implies the morall law.
the decologue, to keepe mankind in awe.
The law (as in a glase,) doth cleare reflect.

What wee should: act & what wee should neglect.
Remember thy creator: in thy streng[th]
whiles thou art plumpe & young & life hath leng[th]
Not in decrepitt feeble doting daies
When faculties: shall faile. to sound his praise.
Things of concernment: our immortall state
must be remembred: early not to late
Tis dangerous to deferre: vntill tomorrow.
one day delay: may: cause: eternall sorrow
On paine of death: doe not procrastinate
Least barr'd of entrance, at the marriage gate
Remember now thy span: thy petite space
whiles thou hast sparing: in the day of grace
It were ingratitude of high degree
for to forgett the cause: created thee.
I meane the mighty god the grand creator
of the faire frame of all the world theator
Who in six daies did consomnate the same
That all his worke might magnifie his name
Man was the master peece of the creation:
made marvelously: surpasing admiration.
God ins good time in the creating season
endued man with vnderstanding reason.
Hee breathd in him: an everlasting spiritt
on tearmes of service. heaven for to in herritt
And man thus made; was last in mercy found
onely Christ blood can cure his mortall wound.