University of Virginia Library

To the Author on his Excellent Romantick Piece.

The Priviledge that pens doe find
'Mongst men, comes short unto the mind,
For mentall Cabinets doe yeild
No jot unto the Criticks shield:
If thoughts might crown deserts, I dare
Give to my Pen the largest share.
But when our Vultures 'gin to gnaw,
I'le cease for feare, and say tis Law;
Its better faile of debt, then be
Honest, in tearms, of flattery;
I hate the thought, I'le freely give
My Verdict, which perhaps may live
'Gainst Calumnie. If Learning may
With Wit, win Fame, thou hast the day.
Crown'd be thy brows with lasting Bayes,
Who giv'st a Form to future dayes:
If witness may be lawfull, then
I'le sweare 't shall fear no Vote of men;
But to thy ever-shining Glory,
The times to come shall hug thy Story.

To my much honoured Friend, the Author, on his History of Amandus and Sophronia.

In a Dialogue, between Menander and Museus.

Menan.
Museus, how dost brook to be
Thus rival'd?

Mus.
Fate doth find I see
'Tis fit, all Glory should not die
Entail'd unto our memorie,
Where's thy Aglaia?

Men.
Where is laid
Thy much renowned Sestian Maid?

Mus.
Beneath a myrtle.

Men.
So is mine
Pratling, with Queen Proserpine.
Mine laughs.

Mus.
Mine weeps.

Men.
Mine joyes to find
Another of as rich a mind.

Mus.
But Venus Priestesse is in grief,
She now no longer shall be Chief,
But with Leander must give way
T' Amandus, and Sophronia.

In Authorem Amicissimum suum, Encomiasticon.

Ladies , you that hug the Quill
Of Renowned Astrophil
Here, behold a second Birth,
Tasting of Sydnean worth.
For Pyrocles, here, you may
Find an Amandus, every way
His Rivall; in Clodomer view
Basilius, and his humour too:
This is so like in every lim
To Sydney, that 'twas got by him
I'de sweare, but I should injure then
One of our noblest Shepherds Pen.
See how the Learned shades do meet,
And like Æriall shadowes fleet,
More in number then were spide
To flock 'bout the Dulichian Guide.
The first, Museus, then Catullus,
Then Naso, Flaccus, and Tibullus;
Then Petrach, Sydney, none can move
Shakespeare out of Adonis Grove,
There sullenly he sits; but these
Admire thy novell Rhapsodies.
Dear Friend, which ever shall subsist,
Spight of Oblivion's hiding-mist.

THE LOVES OF AMANDVS AND SOPHRONIA.

[Ye faire Nereides, who love to sweep]

[Let the Campe stay]

Song.

[Why so coy and nice dear Lady]

ODE

[For to perfume our burying]

For to perfume our burying,
All the flowers of the Spring
Doe meet; man flourishes a time,
And these have but their growing prime.
Wee'r set, we grow, we turn to earth,
Such is our progresse from our birth.
Adiew all sensuall appetites,
Adiew ye Courts, and all delights;
The sweetest breath, and clearest eye,
Have no perpetuitie.
As shadowes wait upon the Sun,
This is consequently done.
Who'd seek by Trophis, and dead things,
(Like some vaine, ambitious Kings)
To leave a living name behind?
Hoping in bags to catch the wind.

[From high Olimpus I am come]

From high Olimpus I am come,
Ever blest Elizium,
For to forewarne thee what shall be
Thy Fate, for the futuritie.
Amandus (thy espoused Lord)
Hath quel'd the Girpids by his sword;
Now's in Verona, feeles much smart,
And woe, not knowing where thou art.
Rhoxenor triumphs in his ill;
Cheribrert laughs, to have his will:
But all the heavenly powers agree
Punishment for their treacherie.
Lucinda shall, forfeit her breath,
While she bewailes Rhoxenors death:
And then, if thou applaud the thing,
Thou shalt be partner with a King.
When many sorrowes thou hast past,
Expect triumphant joy at last.

Cupids Invitation to his BOWER.

ODE.

Love expels all cares and feares,
With musick that out-vies the Spheres;
And with Soule-melting Lullabies,
Doth calme all passions that arise;
Which give a motion to the Stones,
With their sweet alluring Tones.
Hands, and lips, and eyes invite,
See the snowy Virgins white.
Here's many Alexanders brave,
As many Hellens faire I have,
Only for to wait on me,
They attired richly be.
You shall have her in plenty, lavish
Whatsoe're the Sense can ravish.
The Driades have stolen by theft
To me, and their green Groves have left;
And in this my Bower green,
Sol, Neptune, Thetis, have been seen.
I can give you Tagus Sand,
Never saile out of the Land.
I have golden Fleeces store,
Never goe to Cholchos shoare.
The Elizian Fields are in my plaine,
Therefore the shades you haunt in vaine.
Jove to me his Court doth bring,
With his Ganimeds to sing.
Carelesse of Argus hundred eyes,
Or of jealous Juno's Spies.
For nothing else the Gods made night,
But for to screene Lovers delight.

[Though here on earth men differ, in the grave]

Though here on earth men differ, in the grave
There's no distinction; all alike they have.
Then must the Conqueror, with the captive spred,
On one bare earth, as in the common bed
The all commanding Generall hath no span
Of ground allowd, more then a common man.
Folly with Wisedome hath an equall share,
The foul, and faire, to like dust changed are.
This is, of all mortality, the end:
Thersites now with Nereus dares contend;
And with Achilles he hath equall place,
That living, durst not look him in the face.
The servant with his Master, and the maid,
Stretch'd by her Mistress; both their heads are laid
Upon an equal pillow; subjects keep
Courts, with Kings equal, & as soft they sleep,
Lodging their heads upon a turfe of grasse,
As they on Marble, or on figur'd brasse.

[Orcus yawnes, the furies yell]

Orcus yawnes, the furies yell,
Descend accursed Soul to Hell;
Earth hates, thy loathed Trunk to have,
The Wombs of Wolves shall be thy Grave.
Let all take warning, by thy Fate,
How they thy crimes, doe perpetrate.

RIDDLE.

Whats that a faire Lady most of all likes,
Yet ever makes shew she least of all seeks:
Thats ever embrac'd, and affected by her,
Yet is never seen to please, or come nigh her:
But a poor mans thing, yet doth richly adorn her,
Most serv'd in her night-weeds, does her good in a corner:
Most cheap, and most deare, above all worldly pelfe,
Is hard to get in, but comes out of it selfe.

[Thus work we Fortunes discontent]

Thus work we Fortunes discontent,
To behold our merriment.
We harmelesse Shepherds do despise
The anger of the Destenies.
That which makes the Gown man pine,
The Souldier curse Wars discipline,
Begets our solace, no austere
Phalarian Tyrant is our fear;
Secure content, and quiet rest,
No groanes, or cries of men opprest;
Age is no trouble, Death but sleep,
And we till Death, our vigour keep.

[While I the glad and smiling ground doe strew]

While I the glad and smiling ground doe strew,
In these most pleasant Groves, whose verdant hew,
Allure great Pan and Pales here to sport,
Forgetting quite the pleasures of the Court;
Resting securely, void of ghastly feare,
How well were I, were my Amandus here
No Souldier here doth wipe his Sanguine Blade,
Made drink with blood, no Lording doth invade
The poore mans House, or Land; no foule Sedition,
No Edict, Remora, or Inhibition,
Vexeth my quiet peace, my Flocks I keepe
Secure, and dreadlesse of all danger sleepe.
The fruitfull Vine the Poplar tall doth clip,
Who bowes his head, sweet Nectar for to sip.
The lowing Heards, far off I doe behold,
Feeding on Meadowes all off burnish! Gold.
My head with mellow Apples I adorne,
And Peares more ruddy then the blushing morne.
When Jove forceth his Thunder through the Skie,
To empt the store of his Artillery,
Into a Grove of Bay I doe retire,
And reverence (not fear) his noise and fire.
O happy country life, thrice blest they are,
Who are contented with their houshold Lare.
And wrapt in Goats skins, as securely rest,
As those that doe on Tyrian Tanstry feast,
And sleep on quilted Down Beds, all the Pride
Of Norimberge, or Turky sought to hide,
Their glorious nakednesse; oh happy Fate,
That still attends the humble Shepherds state.
Crownes are compos'd of cares, and Honours be,
But the ins{n}aring Gins of Destinie;
The purblind Goddesse takes delight to wrong,
None save the rich, the haughty, and the strong:
Here without shew of feare, securely I
Doe rob the earth of her Embroyderie.
The Primrose, Lilly, Calaminth are here,
The Violet, Paunsy, Pagle, and Kings-Speare,
Smooth Ladies Smocks, with Hare hels, and the Flower,
That cheifly springeth in Adonis Bower;
The Myrtle, Spiknard, Gowlands, and the Rose,
Sops dipt in Wine, Oxe eye, the lips of Cowes;
This is the life thats free from cares, and feare,
Oh that my sweet Amandus were but here.

EPITHALAMIUM

Heavenly faire Urania's Son,
Thou that dwel'st on Hellicon;
Hymen, ô thy brows empale
To the Bride, the Bridegroome hale,
Take thy Saffron Robe, and come
With sweet flowred Marjorum:
Yellow socks of woollen weare,
With a smiling look appeare:
Shrill Epithalamiums sing,
Let this day with pleasure spring:
Nimbly dance the flaming

the Pine

Tree,
Only dedicate to thee.
Take in that fair hand of thine,
Let good Auguries combine,
For the paire that now are Wed,
Let their joyes be nourished,
Lik a Myrtle, ever green,
Owned by the Cyprian Queen,
Who fosters it with Rosie dew,
Where her Nimphs their Sports pursue.
Leave th' Aonian Cave behind,
(Come, ô come with willing mind)
And the Thespian Rocks, whence drill
Aganippe waters still.
Chastest Virgins, you that are
Either for to make, or marre,
Make the Ayre with Hymen ring,
Hymen, Hymenæus sing.