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University of Virginia Library

Poems by Matthew Stevenson

Stevenson, Matthew (fl. 1654-1685)

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Mathew Stevenson

To my Ingenious Friend, Mr. Matthew Stevenson on His Excellent Poems.

To my Friend V. O. on his reading to me several Queint Poems of Mr. Stevenson's.

To my Ingenious Friend the Author.

To my Ingenious Friend the Author.

A PANEGYRICK UPON The Right Honourable EDWARD Lord Marquess of WORCESTER,

A Complement of a Gentleman in his Ale to a Lady of Quality.

Upon a Vintner that draws the Gentry better Wine upon Trust, than his daily Guests, the Dyers, for ready mony.

The Fair Prisoner.

York-shire Ale.

Upon a Great Gamester that slights his Wife and keeps a Wench, and at Play lost his Brothers Cloak, who was bound for the Indies.

L. B. To his Mistris E. R. to whom he sent half a dozen pair of Gloves, which She sent back again, and after would have had them, and he would not send them.

To His Sweet-Heart Mistris Mary, A Papist.

Upon the Fair Mistris Elizabeth White, Her Pocket pickt in Pye-Corner of twenty shillings, and a Key wrapt up in a piece of Holland.

From York to my Forgetful Friends in Lombard-Street.

Upon Mrs. Bell forfeiting her Faith to Her first Love, and Marrying another.

Upon two Cambridge Scholars at a baudy-House.

The Master to His Scholars, barring him out at Christmas.

An Answer to a Song call'd Fair Archybella to whose eyes, &c.

Upon a Girle, would be his Wife, 'cause She had been his Wench.

The Sheep to his Shrew.

Upon a Pye lin'd with a couple of Geese, and Norfolk Lincks, after long expecting sent by the Carts.

Upon one (Twine) Drawn, hang'd and quarter'd for Printing Treason.

Upon Norwich Gallowes set in the Town-close and the first there Executed was one Clarke.

Upon a Young Tradesman carrying News to a Knight, his Wife was brought to Bed of a Boy, bad him acquaint the Parish.

The Nameless Bride.

I. G. to Will a Footman, his Rival.

Phylis Funeral.

Love-sick Lucilla to her unkind Shepheard

To Charola the Coy.

Abstemia to Her importunate Lover.

P. T. Of the Old Exchange to the Right Honourable, the Countess of Dorset, promising him her Kinswoman in Marriage.

A Drunken Porter reeling into the Ring to wrastle with a Taylor.

To my strange Rival engrossing both his own Mistris, and mine too.

The Middle Sister.

To my Rival presenting my Mistris Gold, upon her Journey.

In Commendation of York-shire Ale.

Upon the Shooemakers offering a Pair of Shooes for an Answer.

A Stripling to his Lady who lookt upon him as too young.

Love, blind, or not Blind?

A Gentleman to a Lady that told him he lookt asquint upon her.

An Elegy upon Sir Henry Wright Baronet, who dyed Feb. 5. 1663.

Upon a Gentleman drown'd, and lost in the River Wharfe in Yorkshire.

Upon a Lady at York dying in Child-Birth.

Epitaph upon Mr. Robert Dey Apothecary.

Epitaph upon a Weaver.

Upon one Mr. Lee, desiring some Friends of his to steal a Westphalia Ham, and giving them Sack to it.

Upon a City Captain in Eutopia, arresting a Book-seller for beating him.

As plain dealing, being the Ladies Answer.

Upon a long, long'd for Friend contingently met in an Inn, who lay all night next Chamber to me, and I never knew it till next morning.

The Scotch Covenant Army first coming into England.

King CHARLES the First.

The High and Mighty Monarch CHARLES the Second.

Upon George Satchell, presenting his Master Kid instead of Fawn.

Upon a Gentleman presenting His Mistris a young Cypress Cat.

To Captain John Clarke, upon his Activity in suppressing the Phanaticks.

CAPTAIN JOHN CLARKE.

Upon forty shillings refus'd for a Nightingal that dyed next day.

To the foul and false.

To the Fair and Faithful.

Upon a Friend calling me out in a frosty Morning to take a walk to Holloway before day.

Upon a Gentlewoman providing a second Husband whilst her first was alive.

The Vizor Mask.

Upon a Mad Parson playing at Tables for Tobacco, and carried to the Compter.

Upon a Leicester-shire Parson in his Pulpit inveighing against Citizens, particularly one Gentleman present in the Church, and Suitor to a Gentlemans Daughter of the Parish, warning the Maids Parents to take heed, for Citizens come in fine Cloaths, which, 'tis like they never paid for.

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As plain dealing, being the Ladies Answer.

1

Well, well, 'tis true,
I now am out of Love,
And 'tis with You:
For since I plainly see
Yon are so high, You cannot take
A look undress'd, but You must make
Your Sing-songs thus of me;
Ile henceforth squib your Wild-fire flames & scorn,
Redintegration, leaving you
Without all hope, forlorn.

2

Come (Sir) be wise,
And be assur'd that I
Have stor'd mine eyes
With such Artillery.
One smile would make me Stars out do,
And be Your better Angel too,
For all Your Poetry;
You must, I see, again to Cupids School,
You neither can me Beauteous make,
Nor yet make me a fool.

135

3

Your Ranting talk
Of fathoming the Sky,
As much needs chalk,
As ever Bedlams lye;
You Deities and Saints can dub,
Come (gentle Love) out of the Tub
And see thy Heraldry.
Flesh though we be, and Blood whom death controuls,
Yet to obtain that Flesh and Blood,
You'l pawn your very souls.

4

But is it then
Counted a sin to love;
Amongst you Men
What Art I can, Ile use,
And all my spight and scorn improve,
Lest You a second sure should move,
And so your labour loose;
You say the World is wide, tell them that care,
For I have more to do, than mind
Such toyes as Lovers are.

5

Go, love Your Wine,
Your Book, this Muse and that,
Nay all the nine
So You will not love me,
For me, I love my Dog, my Cat,
Nay, I could love I care not what,
So it may not be thee:

136

Love You Your Ranting, and Your laughing Crew,
I love my Country, and my King,
And those that laugh at you.