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A Nights Search

Discovering the Nature and Condition of Night-Walkers with their associats. Digested into a Poem by Hum. Mill
Mill, Humphrey

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The Frontispeece explained.
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[dedication]
  
To his much respected brother, Master Humphry Mill, upon his Poëm called A Nights Search.
  
To my adopted sonne Mr Humphry Mill, touching his Nights Search.
  
To his kinde friend, Master Humphry Mill, upon his speciall lines of Poetry, called A Nights Search.
  
To his loving friend, the Author of this Nights Search.
  
To his kinde friend Master Humphry Mill.
  
Upon the Book, and Authour of the Nights Search.
  
On the variety of pleasing fancies in the Poëm, the Night Search, written by his friend Mr. Humphry Mill.
  
To the Ingenious Author, Master Humphry Mill, on his booke called A Nights Search.
  
To his worthy friend the Author of the Nights Search.
  
To his judicious friend, Master Humphry Mill, on his Evening Poems.
  
To his friend, Humphry Mill, upon his ensuing Poems.
  
To his very good friend, Mr. Humphry Mill, on his Poem called the Nights Search.
  
To the well-deserving, Master Humphry Mill, upon his Poems called A Nights Search.
  
To his friend, Mr. Humphry Mill, upon his rich conceits in his Poems called A Nights Search.
  
Vpon the deserving Author, Master Humphry Mill, and his Nights Search.
  
To Master Mill, on his Nights Search.
  
To the Authour, Mr. Humphry Mill, on his worthy work, called A Nights Search.
  
Ad amicum suum candidum, M. Humphredum Mill, de Poëmate faceto, cui Titulus A Nights Search.
  
To his good friend the Author of the Nights Search.
  
To his respected friend, Master Mill, on his ensuing Poems.
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A Proeme to the Search,
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A Nights Search.
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His Epitaph.
  
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Her Epitaph.
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To his worthy friend, the Author of the Nights Search.
  
To the Author on his exact description of the Night-walkers of our time.

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The Frontispeece explained.

Behold , the Watch-man of the black-brow'd Night,
Who over looks his charge, by candle-light.
The brats of Hell, by turnes do take their places,
To justifie their Sins, and plead their cases.
One would be chiefe, another comes to crave it:
But he that's nearest Hell, is like to leave it.
This tooke most paines, that other gave a price,
The Vmpire pleaseth all with his device.
The Whore has caught a Gull, (her Scores to pay?
That Huddles on, to sell himselfe away.
He leaves his Wife, and Children in distresse
Pimp wiskin jeares 'em in their heavinesse.
The Russian-Prodigall, that here you see,
Is come to pay a fine for miserie.
He's in the heat of lust: and he must have
Fewell from Hell to feed it, or a Grave.
But shame and want have cool'd the lust, and pride
O' th'out-worne Varlet on the other side.
His sinfull weet's congeal'd into a curse.
Looke but a little lower, they are worse:
Where from their sins, into their paines they fall,
Suff'ring the tortures of the Hospitall:
One hath his Scull tooke up, to cleanse his braines
The next is lanced in her bloodlesse veines,
And some are boyling, while the rest do fry:
(All have a taste of Hell, before they die.)
The house that entertain'd the fowler crue,
Fals, peece-meale down, to render them their due,
Here's one amaz'd, another has a maine,
There's one halfe dead, lyes by another slaine.
Both houses punish those that sin'd unseene:
In fine, see how the Divell flyes betweene.
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