Skip directly to:Main content Main navigation

University of Virginia Library

Poems Divine, and Humane

By Thomas Beedome

Beedome, Thomas

collapse section

On the deceased Authour, Master Thomas Beedom, and his Poems.

On the death and Poems, of his most deare friend, Master Thomas Beedome.

On his deserving Friend, Master Thomas Beedom, and his Poems.

To his Friend the Author, Master Thomas Beedom before his death, on these his Poems.

To the Memory of his Ingenious friend, Master Thomas Beedom, and on these his Poems.

To the Memorie of his friend, Master Thomas Beedom. And upon his Poems.

On the Poems of his worthy friend, Master Thomas Beedom, the lately deceased Author.

On the Memory of his most Ingenious friend, Master Thomas Beedome, and his Poems.

Elegie, on his Ingenious friend, the deserving Author, Master Thomas Beedome.

Elegie on the death of his ingenious friend, the deserving Author, Master Thomas Beedome.

On the Poems of the Author, his deare Brother, Master Thomas Beedom deceased.

THE Author, To the READER.

THE JEALOVS LOUER, OR, THE CONSTANT MAID.

collapse section

To his Mistresse, when shee was going into the Country.

To his Mistresse on her scorne.

The Question and Answer.

The new Petition.

Fooles Paradise, or Reason Bewitcht.

Loves Apostacy to his friend Mr. E. D.

The broken heart song.

Women are mens shadowes.

Women are not mens shadowes.

To his worthy friend Mistresse.

On a Lillie now withered in her bosome.

collapse section

1.

Epigram 1. To my deare friend William Harrington.

2.

Epigram 2. Of one Mary Fraile, who lay with Mr Reason.

3.

Epigram 3. On the same Mary a great lover of Mary-bones.

4.

Epigram 4. To the excellent Poets Mr George Wither

5.

Epigram 5. By way of consolation to his deare friend William Scot, on the death of his brother Gilman Scot.

6.

Epigram 6. To his friend Mr Thomas Beedom, of single life.

7.

Epigram 7. E contra, of Marriage.

8.

Epigram 8. Of good women.

9.

Epigram 9. E Contrario.

10.

Epigram 10. Being a Translation of this Latin verse, composed by Dr Hensloe

11.

Epigram 11. To the worthy honoured, Sir Henry Wootten Knight.

12.

Epigram 12. To the same Knight being President of Eaton Colledge.

13.

Epigram 13. Of a fresh water Souldier.

14.

Epigram 14. Being a meditation to my selfe.

15.

Epigram 15. To himselfe of his Mistresse.

16.

Epigram 16. To his Superlative Mistris.

17.

Epigram 17. To his intimate friend William Pearle.

18.

Epigram 18. To the Heroicall Captaine Thomas James, of his discovery made by the Northwest passage towards the South Sea. 1631.

19.

Epigram 19. A Complaint of his separation from his Mistris, caused by his friends injunction.

20.

Epigram 20. To the memory of his honoured friend Master John Donne, an Eversary.

An Elegie on the death of his loving friend. J: C

My sonne give mee thy heart.

[VVhen first of sinne I tooke survey]

The Inquisition.

The Resurrection.

The Mercy Seate.

Ad punctum mortis.

On the death of Mris. M. T.

collapse section

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

Epigram 19. A Complaint of his separation from his Mistris, caused by his friends injunction.

Deare Heart, remember that sad hower,
When we were forc't to part,
How on thy cheekes I wept a shower,
With sad and heavy heart;
About thy waste my Armes did twist,
Oh! then I sight, and then I kist:

Ten thousand feares and joyes in one,
Did such distraction frame,
As if the livelesse world would runne
To Chaos backe againe.
Whilst my poore heart, amidst these feares;
Lay bathed in my milke warme teares.

Ah then I thought, and thinking wept,
How friends and fate did lower,
On thee Leander, how they kept
Thee from thy Heroes Tower,
While thunder groand, and heaven did weepe
To rocke thy sence in silent sleepe.

But fate must unresisted stand,
Oh who can it oppose?
Necessiti's a Tyrant, and
No meane in mischiefe knowes;
Else might my fairer Love and I
Unsever'd live, till one did dye.

Just so the hungry Infant from
His Mothers dugge is tane,
When his weake arme's yet spread along.
More dulcid milke to gaine;
And nothing brings the babe to rest,
Untill he sleepe upon her brest.

Thus being banisht from my Love,
And forc't to leave her sight.
No thoughts but those of her can move
In me the least delight;
But like true steele my heart doth pant,
To touch the long'd-for Adamant.

Oh let no storme of discontent
Be clouded in your browes,
Deare friends that have my being lent,
Give being to my vowes

I will much engage my heart, if when
I say shee's mine, you'le say Amen.
Such kindnesse to our true love showne,
Shall binde us doubly then your owne.