Clarastella Together with Poems occasional, Elegies, Epigrams, Satyrs. By Robert Heath |
 |
 | Occasional POEMS |
|
|
|
 | Clarastella |  |
Occasional POEMS
Majores majora sonent, mihi parva locuto
Sufficit, in vestras sæpe redire manus.
Mart. li. 9. Ep. 1.
Sufficit, in vestras sæpe redire manus.
Mart. li. 9. Ep. 1.
1
To an old Gentlewoman that would have her Picture drawn.
What strange impossibles are thoseThat one fam'd Myron you impose?
Drawn to the life you'd be you say,
When you are dying every day;
In colours too, when there's but one
All o'r your face, and that is dun.
Heel draw 'tis like thy shadows true,
For thou art all but shadow'd blue.
If fair then thou wu'dst counted be
His pigments let him lay on thee,
And with a trowel dawb and sleek
The wroughcast of each wrinkled cheek,
Else but in vain he shal on you
Spend both his oyl and labour too.
Drawn with black lead or with a coal
Over some Alehouse chimney wal,
Thy picture best wil semble thee
By some rough Dialler; when he,
Shal underwrite in meeter, this
The widow of Sarepta is.
Or 'twil shew best through lattice-work,
Here an old woman, there the Turk.
2
Let me say this in caution
Unto thy Painter, that he plie
And speed his work, or thou wilt die
Before the third dayes sitting: when
(If thou canst live so long) that then,
(Because thoult ne'r be at th'expence
To take thy il lookt figure thence)
He would but send the piece to me;
I'd rather have it far then thee,
To hang up 'mongst my Sybels, or
Foul Hags, lest some mistake thee for
One of the Fatal Destinies
Or Helbred Furies worse then these.
But I'm afraid 'tis his design
To sel thee for some Tavern sign,
(If he not hang thee out a loof
Oth' back oth' Change as weather proof)
And I shal see thee thy ruin'd face
Hang out in Southwark, old Queen Bess.
Epithalamium Amatorium
To Aurora.
Why peeps the envious Morne so soon upon
The pleasures of our bed?
Pul back thy fierie coursers Phaeton!
And drive not til I bid!
And lest thy headstrong steeds their reins shu'd break,
That Virgin girdle take
I now unti'd! too soon for you it is
And me, our rosie nests to leave, and rise.
The pleasures of our bed?
Pul back thy fierie coursers Phaeton!
And drive not til I bid!
And lest thy headstrong steeds their reins shu'd break,
That Virgin girdle take
I now unti'd! too soon for you it is
And me, our rosie nests to leave, and rise.
3
Have I so many tedious Suns beheld
And nights in sighing spent,
E'r to temptation I could make her yield?
And would you now prevent
The long-wisht harvest of my joys delight?
Nor grant as long a night?
Go back to thy lov'd Thetis bosome! go!
Whilst in our beds wee'l sport it longer too.
And nights in sighing spent,
E'r to temptation I could make her yield?
And would you now prevent
The long-wisht harvest of my joys delight?
Nor grant as long a night?
Go back to thy lov'd Thetis bosome! go!
Whilst in our beds wee'l sport it longer too.
I'd have the world til we our curtains ope,
Expect the Morning star,
And from my glorious Darlings blushes, hope
The Day may once appear:
'T shud be then alwaies night she saies, that we
Might ne'r discover'd be.
So might it be! for whilst she's in mine arme,
In her Suns shade I'd keep me ever warme.
Expect the Morning star,
And from my glorious Darlings blushes, hope
The Day may once appear:
'T shud be then alwaies night she saies, that we
Might ne'r discover'd be.
So might it be! for whilst she's in mine arme,
In her Suns shade I'd keep me ever warme.
On the strange unfortunate breaking of a Glass in a Tavern.
Happy mischance! if happy I may calWhat by so strange misfortune did befal!
The Ganymede that had perform'd its trust,
Discharg'd so many healths and them so just,
Brok of it self, and falling to the ground,
Foretold our fortunes if we kept the round.
Had it surviv'd the Nectar thence did flow
Our brains had crackt or els we faln as low.
But tel me little glass my quondam friend!
How didst thou come to this untimely end?
Did any fatal or unluckie hand
Throw thee to ruine 'gainst thy Joves command?
4
The wine did make thee fal which thou didst drink.
Though the diviner sack Immortal bee,
The glasse that holds it yet may die I see.
Drinking on a rainy day.
Oh: 'tis a rainy drinking day!Come let it pow're
Weel drink these clouds all drie away
Suck every show'r
The envious Earth shal not drink all, for we
Our plants wil water too aswel as she.
The clouds that fatness drop from heav'n
Descend to us
Ev'n to invite us reach them to enliven
Our spirits thus:
Then sink or swim, weel moisten thirsty care,
And though the weather's foul, weel drink it fair.
To one that hearing I had some faculty in Poesie, simply requested me to write somewhat on his dear wife lately dead.
Had I so wel but known thy Ligbie, asSire Adam once his Eve did know
Then I might say thy wife a good one was:
But I ne'r saw, nor knew her so.
5
Most say she lookt, and painted wel!
Should I her unknown secret parts admire,
Or hidden qualities forthtel?
Troth I ne'r heard one good she had, for what,
Thou falsely thoughtst one, loving thee;
Now's out of fashion, and esteem'd a fault.
Then in her praise, I'l silent be;
Since Silence best suits me as each of them:
For Womens pride affecteth such
Grosse flatt'ry, that who undertakes the theam;
Speaks both too little, and too much.
On Copernicus his opinion of the earths turning round.
Copernicus
was of opinion
That the Earths globe by spherick motion
Turn'd round, and that the Heav'ns were fixt: the man
Was drunk sure or on shipboard, when his brain
Hatcht this Mæander; for to such the land
Doth only seem to move when they do stand.
That the Earths globe by spherick motion
Turn'd round, and that the Heav'ns were fixt: the man
Was drunk sure or on shipboard, when his brain
Hatcht this Mæander; for to such the land
Doth only seem to move when they do stand.
When Noahs floud had turn'd the land to Sea
And the earth seem'd one floating Isle to be,
The world then rid on waves indeed, and then
Ith' Ark there was no terra firma seen:
Yet true we find what was but Phansie then,
(For th'world if we but understand the men
That live therein) for they alas turn round
And scotomized sail on firmest ground:
Or drunk with madnes, with their poreblind eies
Think States wel setled totter though they rise.
A strange Vertigo or Delirium,
Oth' brain it is, that thus possesses 'um;
Whilst like to fashions grown Orbicular,
Kingdomes thus turn'd, and overturned are:
Nothing but fine Eutopian worlds ith' moon
Must be new form'd by revolution.
Nor doth the State alone on fortuns wheels
Run round, alas our rock Religion, reels:
We have saild so far the Antipodian way
That into darkness we have turnd our day.
Amidst these turnings 'tis some comfort yet,
Heav'n doth not flie from us, though we from it.
And the earth seem'd one floating Isle to be,
The world then rid on waves indeed, and then
Ith' Ark there was no terra firma seen:
Yet true we find what was but Phansie then,
(For th'world if we but understand the men
That live therein) for they alas turn round
And scotomized sail on firmest ground:
Or drunk with madnes, with their poreblind eies
Think States wel setled totter though they rise.
A strange Vertigo or Delirium,
Oth' brain it is, that thus possesses 'um;
6
Kingdomes thus turn'd, and overturned are:
Nothing but fine Eutopian worlds ith' moon
Must be new form'd by revolution.
Nor doth the State alone on fortuns wheels
Run round, alas our rock Religion, reels:
We have saild so far the Antipodian way
That into darkness we have turnd our day.
Amidst these turnings 'tis some comfort yet,
Heav'n doth not flie from us, though we from it.
To one that was so impatient with the tooth-ach that he would not rest til all his teeth were drawn forth.
How! branch and root? that's too severe,
Let penal laws suffice! howe'r
Do not extirpate the whole breed,
Which one day you may so much need!
That is the last and worst extream
To 'stroy all, cause some are too blame.
If your right hand offend, I know
You may cut't off, your right eie too
If that offend, pluck out: but 'sooth,
I find not so you may one tooth:
Unless perhaps in drink and heat
With pots or candlesticks y'have beat
Teeth out of this or that mans head,
Then eie and tooth, for tooth indeed
Should be repaid. But tel me when
Your teeth are gone, what wil you then
For grinders do? youl' learn to chew
The cud, drink, and eat spoon-meat too?
Suck agen wil you not? I'm sure
That self-preservation Nature
Commands: what should we more preserve
Then teeth, whose want would make us sterve?
Do we not live by them? who w'ud
Deprive himself of's livelihood?
Let penal laws suffice! howe'r
Do not extirpate the whole breed,
Which one day you may so much need!
That is the last and worst extream
To 'stroy all, cause some are too blame.
If your right hand offend, I know
You may cut't off, your right eie too
If that offend, pluck out: but 'sooth,
I find not so you may one tooth:
Unless perhaps in drink and heat
With pots or candlesticks y'have beat
Teeth out of this or that mans head,
Then eie and tooth, for tooth indeed
Should be repaid. But tel me when
Your teeth are gone, what wil you then
For grinders do? youl' learn to chew
The cud, drink, and eat spoon-meat too?
7
That self-preservation Nature
Commands: what should we more preserve
Then teeth, whose want would make us sterve?
Do we not live by them? who w'ud
Deprive himself of's livelihood?
But since you have an aking tooth
To leave no jacks within your mouth,
And are so far run mad with pain
You are resolv'd to have all drane:
Let not the Barbar-surgion set
Them string'd on scarlet forth, but let
Them in a box be kept, and shown
For those that fel from that jawbone
That Samson fought with; and I'l swear,
That they the very Asses were.
To leave no jacks within your mouth,
And are so far run mad with pain
You are resolv'd to have all drane:
Let not the Barbar-surgion set
Them string'd on scarlet forth, but let
Them in a box be kept, and shown
For those that fel from that jawbone
That Samson fought with; and I'l swear,
That they the very Asses were.
On Whip the Preaching Coachman.
Drive right thou furious Jehu! that hast stept
From the square coach-box and profoundly leapt
To a round Preaching tub! O how he feels,
With learning that he rub'd from horses heels,
Himself inspir'd oth' sudden! now for th'cause
And overthrow of all good humane laws!
So Phaeton drove his car, which overturn'd
Through headless furie, thus, the world it burnd.
What a strange Metamorphosis is this?
A frock turn'd to a linnen Ephod is;
No Tailour Iohn of Leiden exstant now
To consecrate this groom a Prophet too,
As Becold did Tuscoverer? that then
He in reward may crown him King agen.
Like as Caligula when he did fein
Himself a God, his great horse did ordein
His Priest; a God and Prophet much alike,
Both might have learnt of Baalams Ass to speak.
Yet see how Muncers spirit reigns in him!
And like phanatick Phifers makes him dream
More revelations in one night, then th'old
Patriarchs and Prophets visions did behold!
Which phansied novels he doth oft obtrude
To the weak faith oth' giddy multitude.
Rotman or Cniperdolin never knew
Such marks oth' godly as this Saint can shew:
Whilst thus like Iohn Matthias, he contemns
All books except the Bible, and condemns
Each human Authour to the flames, that all
Ith' mist of ignorance may prove mistical.
Polygamie of Churches he doth cal,
A fornication spiritual:
When he expoundeth oh 'tis strange to see
After large sighs, in what an extasie
He speechless prays! just as the Darvises
Amongst the Turks, so in a trance he is;
These Prophets as they stile them, having run
Round til they loose their breath, fal senceless down;
And after some short sleep awaking tel
Their studied dreams as from an Oracle.
So this Enthusiast after many sighs
And turnings of the egs of his twinckling eies,
Streight Epileptick in this rapture grows,
Where after many yawns and feined shows
Of a transported mind, at last the Elf,
Delivers nonsence like the mouth of Delph.
From the square coach-box and profoundly leapt
To a round Preaching tub! O how he feels,
With learning that he rub'd from horses heels,
Himself inspir'd oth' sudden! now for th'cause
And overthrow of all good humane laws!
So Phaeton drove his car, which overturn'd
Through headless furie, thus, the world it burnd.
What a strange Metamorphosis is this?
A frock turn'd to a linnen Ephod is;
No Tailour Iohn of Leiden exstant now
To consecrate this groom a Prophet too,
As Becold did Tuscoverer? that then
He in reward may crown him King agen.
8
Himself a God, his great horse did ordein
His Priest; a God and Prophet much alike,
Both might have learnt of Baalams Ass to speak.
Yet see how Muncers spirit reigns in him!
And like phanatick Phifers makes him dream
More revelations in one night, then th'old
Patriarchs and Prophets visions did behold!
Which phansied novels he doth oft obtrude
To the weak faith oth' giddy multitude.
Rotman or Cniperdolin never knew
Such marks oth' godly as this Saint can shew:
Whilst thus like Iohn Matthias, he contemns
All books except the Bible, and condemns
Each human Authour to the flames, that all
Ith' mist of ignorance may prove mistical.
Polygamie of Churches he doth cal,
A fornication spiritual:
When he expoundeth oh 'tis strange to see
After large sighs, in what an extasie
He speechless prays! just as the Darvises
Amongst the Turks, so in a trance he is;
These Prophets as they stile them, having run
Round til they loose their breath, fal senceless down;
And after some short sleep awaking tel
Their studied dreams as from an Oracle.
So this Enthusiast after many sighs
And turnings of the egs of his twinckling eies,
Streight Epileptick in this rapture grows,
Where after many yawns and feined shows
Of a transported mind, at last the Elf,
Delivers nonsence like the mouth of Delph.
Leave, leave thou russet Rabbi! leave for shame!
And do not thus abuse that holy name
And function of a Preacher! drive agen!
Currie thy horses and not Christian men!
Else prophane huckster with thy whip thou maist
E'r long be scourg'd, and forth the Temple cast.
And do not thus abuse that holy name
And function of a Preacher! drive agen!
Currie thy horses and not Christian men!
Else prophane huckster with thy whip thou maist
E'r long be scourg'd, and forth the Temple cast.
9
On the unusual cold and rainie weather in the Summer. 1648.
Why puts our Grandame Nature on
Her winter coat, e'r summers done?
What hath she got an ague fit?
And thinks to make us hov'ring sit
Over her lazie Embers? else why should
Old Hyems freeze our vernal bloud?
Or as we each day, grow older,
Doth the world wax wan and colder?
'Tis so: See how nakt Charitie
Sterves in this frozen age! whilst we
Have no other heat but glow-worm zeal
Whose warmth we see but cannot feel.
All chang'd are Ceres golden hairs
To clouded grey, and nought appears
In Flora's dresse: our hopes do die
And oth' sudden blasted lie.
Heav'ns glorious lamps do wast away,
The Elements themselves decay,
And the mixt bodies mutinie
By a rebellious sympathie;
Whilst the distemper'd world grows pale,
And sickning threatens death to all:
Her winter coat, e'r summers done?
What hath she got an ague fit?
And thinks to make us hov'ring sit
Over her lazie Embers? else why should
Old Hyems freeze our vernal bloud?
Or as we each day, grow older,
Doth the world wax wan and colder?
'Tis so: See how nakt Charitie
Sterves in this frozen age! whilst we
Have no other heat but glow-worm zeal
Whose warmth we see but cannot feel.
All chang'd are Ceres golden hairs
To clouded grey, and nought appears
In Flora's dresse: our hopes do die
And oth' sudden blasted lie.
Heav'ns glorious lamps do wast away,
The Elements themselves decay,
And the mixt bodies mutinie
By a rebellious sympathie;
Whilst the distemper'd world grows pale,
And sickning threatens death to all:
So in an instant waters swept
The old worlds monsters, whilst they wept
It's funeral: but the new world's sins
Are so deep di'd no floud can rinse.
Nothing but lightning and Heav'ns fire
Can purge our pestilential aire.
The old worlds monsters, whilst they wept
It's funeral: but the new world's sins
Are so deep di'd no floud can rinse.
Nothing but lightning and Heav'ns fire
Can purge our pestilential aire.
10
Farewel to passionate Love.
Farewel fond Love! I'l never bowSlave like unto my fetters I,
Fair Sex! I'l not adore you now
Yet love you as my libertie:
Love grown adust with Melancholy,
To madness turns or extream folly.
About and with your fires I'l play
But with as loose and gentle touch
As boys from hand to hand toss away
Live coals, lest they should burn too much.
Too ne'r his heart who lets love come
Suffers a wilful Martyrdome.
Stout Souldiers in an Enemies land
March not too far sans fear or wit,
E'r they resolve or to withstand,
Or wisely make a safe retreat.
Bodies when joyn'd engaged are,
Piqueering's better sport by far.
The Excuse.
To the Ladie E. B.
Your lovely fair did first inviteMe to that strange demand,
Your wanton eie big with delight,
Made me to understand
You pleasant as your looks, where every glance
Did raise and court my warm bloud to advance.
11
Who if alow'd would not do so?
Henceforth I'l sit demure by you,
Nor speak when you w'ud hear,
Just as I w'ud your picture view,
Behold you and admire.
For if I speak, you prompt my tongue with love,
And 'cause I tel 't you, you unkind reprove.
Then blame not me for saying so,
Since 'twas your beauty bid me woe.
Equalitie
To two fair Mistresses.
Shal I freize between two fires?
Or doth a numness ceaze on me?
Each star inflames me with desires,
Yet which to chuse I cannot see
Since reason admires equally.
Then give me both
For faith and troth
I should be loath
Each should not pleased be.
Or doth a numness ceaze on me?
Each star inflames me with desires,
Yet which to chuse I cannot see
Since reason admires equally.
Then give me both
For faith and troth
I should be loath
Each should not pleased be.
Or you who so perfect are,
That nature hath her self outdone
In making you bright lights so fair!
Rule by your turns! that so each one
May cool the heat oth' to'other Sun!
And Love me both!
For faith and troth
I should be loath,
Each should not pleased be.
That nature hath her self outdone
In making you bright lights so fair!
Rule by your turns! that so each one
May cool the heat oth' to'other Sun!
And Love me both!
For faith and troth
I should be loath,
Each should not pleased be.
12
To a friend. Ode.
Affect not aierie Popularitie!But what thou wouldst be thought, that strive to be!
Praise is but Virtues shadow; who court her
Doth more the handmaid then the Dame admire.
Who only doth wel, wel spoke of to bee,
Studies the praise and not the virtue, he.
To blaze thy virtues ne'r bespeak thy friend!
If good, they speak thee and themselves commend.
Now men but judge by heare-say, thus, they'l know,
And see thy worth, and judge it greater too.
True worth is best displaid by modestie
The greatest rivers slide most silentlie,
Only the shallow brooks do prattle, they
Make a great noise and go but little way.
Fame that doth feed oth' vaine applause of men,
Gapes to its Eccho to be heard agen:
And like this, lives awhile by others breath;
Which being stopt is husht to silent death.
Good actions crown themselves with lasting baies,
Who deserves wel, needs not anothers praise.
Virtue's her own reward; though, Euge, none
Wil cry, 'tis Guerdon yet to have wel done.
A sudden Phansie at Midnight.
How ist we are thus melancholie? what
Are our rich ferkins out? or rather that
Which did inspire them, the Immortal wine,
That did create us, like it self, divine?
Or are we Nectar-sated to the hight?
Or do we droop under the aged night?
If so: weel vote it ne'r to be eleven
Rather then thus to part at six and seaven:
Moult then thy speedy wings old Time! and be
As slow-pac't as becomes thy age! that we
May chirp awhile, and when we take our ease,
Then flie and poast as nimbly as you please!
Play the good fellow with us, and sit down
A while, that we may drink the to'ther round!
I'l promise here is none shal thee misuse,
Or pluck thee by the foretop in abuse.
Time saies he wil nor can he stay, 'cause he
Thinks him too grave for your young companie.
Are our rich ferkins out? or rather that
13
That did create us, like it self, divine?
Or are we Nectar-sated to the hight?
Or do we droop under the aged night?
If so: weel vote it ne'r to be eleven
Rather then thus to part at six and seaven:
Moult then thy speedy wings old Time! and be
As slow-pac't as becomes thy age! that we
May chirp awhile, and when we take our ease,
Then flie and poast as nimbly as you please!
Play the good fellow with us, and sit down
A while, that we may drink the to'ther round!
I'l promise here is none shal thee misuse,
Or pluck thee by the foretop in abuse.
Time saies he wil nor can he stay, 'cause he
Thinks him too grave for your young companie.
It makes no matter—Sirs
How say you yet toth' tother Subsidie?
Yes yes: And let our Ganymede nimbly flie
And fil us of the same Poetick sherrie
Ben-Iohnson us'd to quaffe to make him merrie.
Such as would make the grey-beard botles talk
Had they but tongues, or, had they legs, to walk:
Such as would make Apollo smile, or wu'd
Draw all the Sisters to our Brotherhood.
And though the bald Fool staies not, let him know
Weel sit and drink as fast as he shal go.
So as the salt Anchovis swam in oyl,
Wee'l make them swim again in sacks sweet spoil.
How say you yet toth' tother Subsidie?
Yes yes: And let our Ganymede nimbly flie
And fil us of the same Poetick sherrie
Ben-Iohnson us'd to quaffe to make him merrie.
Such as would make the grey-beard botles talk
Had they but tongues, or, had they legs, to walk:
Such as would make Apollo smile, or wu'd
Draw all the Sisters to our Brotherhood.
And though the bald Fool staies not, let him know
Weel sit and drink as fast as he shal go.
So as the salt Anchovis swam in oyl,
Wee'l make them swim again in sacks sweet spoil.
14
On a Map of the World accidentally faln into the water and spoiled.
The world drown'd once agen? sure holy text
Saies it should be by fire dissolved next.
Deucalion then weeps for this world, as much
As once for th'old he did, it's sins are such:
And as before he drown'd a world of men,
In figure thus by chance it sinks agen.
Saies it should be by fire dissolved next.
Deucalion then weeps for this world, as much
As once for th'old he did, it's sins are such:
And as before he drown'd a world of men,
In figure thus by chance it sinks agen.
Who Plato's book of Commonwealth did view
By mice devour'd and thought thence would ensue
A fatal Period of the publick State;
Would ha' presag'd the like unhappy fate
(Had but he seen this) were attending us,
And construed this dire chance as ominous
I'l not obtrude for truths Prophetick dreams;
Yet Mara's waters like Nil's seavnfold streams
'Tofore that gently did but wet this Land
Now in a purple lake of bloud do stand
And quite o'rwhelm't: and which is worse we fear
No Olivebranch wil e'r agen appear.
The Microcosme of individual man
See how that wavers in an Ocean
Of perillous inconstancie! whilst phlegme
And crude raw humours quench the fires in him;
That his split-sailes bear not the gentlest blast
See how the Moral world in strife doth wast!
And by like jarring doth decay! whilst we
From il to worse stil slide, and in a sea
Of Error drown at last! Since then we see
Both these and the material world must be
I'th end dissolv'd: I grieve the lesse for thee,
That art all theirs but thin Epitomie.
By mice devour'd and thought thence would ensue
A fatal Period of the publick State;
Would ha' presag'd the like unhappy fate
(Had but he seen this) were attending us,
And construed this dire chance as ominous
I'l not obtrude for truths Prophetick dreams;
Yet Mara's waters like Nil's seavnfold streams
'Tofore that gently did but wet this Land
Now in a purple lake of bloud do stand
And quite o'rwhelm't: and which is worse we fear
No Olivebranch wil e'r agen appear.
The Microcosme of individual man
See how that wavers in an Ocean
Of perillous inconstancie! whilst phlegme
And crude raw humours quench the fires in him;
That his split-sailes bear not the gentlest blast
See how the Moral world in strife doth wast!
And by like jarring doth decay! whilst we
From il to worse stil slide, and in a sea
Of Error drown at last! Since then we see
Both these and the material world must be
I'th end dissolv'd: I grieve the lesse for thee,
That art all theirs but thin Epitomie.
15
Upon the sight of an old but very deformed woman.
I saw a woman: Bless me! did I sayA woman or a Witch? or what you may
Or can more horrid think, a Furie; she
Was more deform'd then Deaths Anatomie
Nor the black ink, nor this more ragged quil
Can dawb her forth, she look't so monstrous il.
A Camel-back with a crookt baker-knee,
Bow'd like a token for the earth was she:
Her eies two inches buried in her head
Like leaden bullets seem'd, they lookt so dead:
Her nose did like a Promontorie, threat
With its appendant drop the chin to meet.
Her eie brows hairie, and her rougher brow
Furrow'd with wrinckles did like trenches show;
Her parched hair did hang like wither'd hay,
About her ears, it was so drie and grey:
Her lean chops rough and hollow as the earth
When chopt for rain in a drie summers dearth:
The mark was out of her coney-mumping mouth,
Where if a tongue yet was there ne'r a tooth;
Which when she op't, 'twas but to fart a cough,
Where who stood by would wish him farther off:
Her lips like th'Monkies hairy hard and thin
And in her bosome hung her forked chin.
Thus monstrous uglie and deform'd was she;
From such a wainscoat face, Deliver me!
16
On the late Sect of the Adamites.
A sect of Adamites of late's reviv'd,Who seem more innocent then e'r Adam liv'd.
Such as will naked go, and think't a sin
To wear a garment, they're so hot within
VVith Lust, that they all cloathing do disdain;
Aarons old Vestments they account prophane,
Elisha's double mantle when they hear
But nam'd, they sweat agen: they nought wil wear,
Not holy lawn to keep them from the air,
Nor St. Johns raiment, made of Camels heir:
These Vestal garments though they holy be,
Yet they do smel of strong hypocrisie,
Dimas must leave his cloak, not any thing
Must here be worn, no not a wedding ring,
Nor fig-leaves, such as Adam wore long since,
VVhen he had lost his Robe of Innocence.
The whore of Babels smock they all detest,
All Antichristian Reliques with the rest.
All must be barely naked; 'cause they say
Truth it self naked goes, and so should they.
Naked as from their mothers wombs, they wear
Nothing that covers onely skin and hair;
Thus marching naked Sister, with a brother,
For want of clothes they cover one another
In some dark Grange thus meet they, where 'tis fit
That they the deeds of darkness should commit:
The candles are put out, because they say
They are enlightned all, and so they pray;
Here they begin; and thus divide the text,
Handling in order whosoe'r comes next.
They feel a womans faith, tel by th'spirit
(VVhich doth possess them) which shal heav'n inherit.
17
As at the spring each bird doth choose his Peer.
And when they all grow proud with hot desires,
Thus they correct and quench the rising fires.
To a Ladie on the Death of her little Dog.
Madam
, that any dog should die,
I not at all do wonder, I;
Nor can I yours bemoane indeed,
Since like it self a dog it died.
I not at all do wonder, I;
Nor can I yours bemoane indeed,
Since like it self a dog it died.
Yet 'twas a pretty dog, I vow,
Descended wel, welfavoured too;
Kept clean, and cleanly with the maid
Ayr'd it self every day, 'tis said:
Then it would smiling fawn, and at
Your trencher with much dutie waite;
Bark when it wanted chicken, and
Would take no meat but from your hand;
And like your shadow follow you
Close wheresoever you would go:
Then to your bed 'twould duly come
And lick you where you pleas'd, whose room
Many good Christians would have tane
With willing hearts, and there have lane.
Lastly (which must not be forgot)
'Twas good condition'd; was it not?
A Dog of wax assoon it was;
It did not Tobits dog surpass,
In mood and form that wag'd his taile
As 'twould ha' said to his master, haile!
When bold Ulisses after ten
Whole years to Ithaca agen
Return'd his dog yet him did know
And welcom'd home; your dog had no
Such memorie I think; nor would
Ha' shown such daintie tricks as could
The Tinkers cur of Wapping, that
Did pray and dance on two, and what
More wondrous is, with taile in's mouth
Trip the Canaries round forsooth.
Your dog I grant was better bred,
Brought up at hand; and better fed
Then taught, for this same stately wretch
Scorn'd ought to carry or to fetch.
What worth was in it then, that you
So much should prize and love it too?
For I'l be bold the last great fal
Of men where Death had conquer'd all
The field almost, and you did loose
On each side friends, that none of those
Nor, all so much afflicted you
As your dogs fatal end doth now.
Descended wel, welfavoured too;
Kept clean, and cleanly with the maid
Ayr'd it self every day, 'tis said:
Then it would smiling fawn, and at
Your trencher with much dutie waite;
Bark when it wanted chicken, and
Would take no meat but from your hand;
And like your shadow follow you
Close wheresoever you would go:
Then to your bed 'twould duly come
And lick you where you pleas'd, whose room
Many good Christians would have tane
With willing hearts, and there have lane.
Lastly (which must not be forgot)
'Twas good condition'd; was it not?
A Dog of wax assoon it was;
It did not Tobits dog surpass,
In mood and form that wag'd his taile
As 'twould ha' said to his master, haile!
When bold Ulisses after ten
Whole years to Ithaca agen
18
And welcom'd home; your dog had no
Such memorie I think; nor would
Ha' shown such daintie tricks as could
The Tinkers cur of Wapping, that
Did pray and dance on two, and what
More wondrous is, with taile in's mouth
Trip the Canaries round forsooth.
Your dog I grant was better bred,
Brought up at hand; and better fed
Then taught, for this same stately wretch
Scorn'd ought to carry or to fetch.
What worth was in it then, that you
So much should prize and love it too?
For I'l be bold the last great fal
Of men where Death had conquer'd all
The field almost, and you did loose
On each side friends, that none of those
Nor, all so much afflicted you
As your dogs fatal end doth now.
Oh! it did love you: wel it might,
So 'twould whoe'r made much of it.
But let me tel you by the way
(Not to offend you) I heard say,
Your dog so fed with sweetmeats was,
Cakebread, and Almondbutter, as
It's breath did shrewdly stink: but let
That pass; t'had a worse qualitie yet,
T'would stil be barking with it self,
That I have joy'd to see the Elf
How finely it would turn, when down
It rowld it self upon the ground:
For then t'would quiet lie awhile.
But since 'tis now more quiet; I'l
Not pitty it, but you, to grieve
'Cause your dog could not ever live.
Dogs have their daies, 'tis true: and though
A dog-star shins above, below
They die. Yet since you lov'd its sight
VVee'l pourtrayt e'r you bury it:
And for his Epitaph shal be
This underwrit in memorie;
So 'twould whoe'r made much of it.
But let me tel you by the way
(Not to offend you) I heard say,
Your dog so fed with sweetmeats was,
Cakebread, and Almondbutter, as
It's breath did shrewdly stink: but let
That pass; t'had a worse qualitie yet,
T'would stil be barking with it self,
That I have joy'd to see the Elf
How finely it would turn, when down
It rowld it self upon the ground:
For then t'would quiet lie awhile.
But since 'tis now more quiet; I'l
Not pitty it, but you, to grieve
'Cause your dog could not ever live.
Dogs have their daies, 'tis true: and though
A dog-star shins above, below
19
VVee'l pourtrayt e'r you bury it:
And for his Epitaph shal be
This underwrit in memorie;
His Mistresse chiefest joy and griefe,
Lov'd too almost as her own life;
Here lies the best of Dogs, and lest,
That Album Græcum made the best
To cure sore throats with; for 'tis said
The Isle of Dogs such never had.
But dead doth now so worthless prove
His skin wil hardly make one glove
For a childs itchy hand: yet hee
Lives famous in Effigie.
Lov'd too almost as her own life;
Here lies the best of Dogs, and lest,
That Album Græcum made the best
To cure sore throats with; for 'tis said
The Isle of Dogs such never had.
But dead doth now so worthless prove
His skin wil hardly make one glove
For a childs itchy hand: yet hee
Lives famous in Effigie.
In Crumenâ Vacuum an non?
Nature as saies Philosophie
Admits no vacuum; yet I
(O the sad fate of Codrus curse!)
Find there's a Vacuum in my purse.
Or Nature errs sure, or the gold
VVhich my now empty purse did hold.
VVhen the last mite's exhausted, wou'll
You then perswade me yet 'tis ful?
VVhen Taverns and the Mercers book
Have pickt my pocket, shall I look
Then for gold there? I can't I tro
Both eat my cake and have it too?
Yet to make good this Axiome,
Here's one in charitie throwes some
Small crums of comfort in: he tels
Mee its ful of air, but nothing els:
Alas! I'm no Chamœlion,
Nor can I live by air alone.
If all thy gold dissolved be
To liquid and Petabile;
Wil not your strings stretch for one pint
Of Sack? all gone? is nothing in't?
Oh thou my dear and quondam friend
That in my need didst money lend,
How do I grieve thy skeliton
Reduc'd thus soon to skin and bone!
Sure some wil think that see thy thin
And aierie Corps, that thou hast bin
Some Poets purse, thus made refine
By th'Alchimie of wit and wine:
And that thy Angel gold may bee
Still there, though it we cannot see,
It is so sublimated, and
So pure; for since we understand
The Angels to be Spirits, then
Thou'rt become spiritual agen.
Admits no vacuum; yet I
(O the sad fate of Codrus curse!)
Find there's a Vacuum in my purse.
Or Nature errs sure, or the gold
VVhich my now empty purse did hold.
VVhen the last mite's exhausted, wou'll
You then perswade me yet 'tis ful?
VVhen Taverns and the Mercers book
Have pickt my pocket, shall I look
Then for gold there? I can't I tro
Both eat my cake and have it too?
Yet to make good this Axiome,
Here's one in charitie throwes some
Small crums of comfort in: he tels
Mee its ful of air, but nothing els:
Alas! I'm no Chamœlion,
Nor can I live by air alone.
20
To liquid and Petabile;
Wil not your strings stretch for one pint
Of Sack? all gone? is nothing in't?
Oh thou my dear and quondam friend
That in my need didst money lend,
How do I grieve thy skeliton
Reduc'd thus soon to skin and bone!
Sure some wil think that see thy thin
And aierie Corps, that thou hast bin
Some Poets purse, thus made refine
By th'Alchimie of wit and wine:
And that thy Angel gold may bee
Still there, though it we cannot see,
It is so sublimated, and
So pure; for since we understand
The Angels to be Spirits, then
Thou'rt become spiritual agen.
Well then Philosophie in truth,
I find thou speakst the naked truth;
For though for coine it empty be
Yet there is no vacuitie.
Though no bright Angel do appear
In this dispised Hemisphear;
Yet the Div'ls in't without all doubt
There's ne'r a crosse to keep him out.
I find thou speakst the naked truth;
For though for coine it empty be
Yet there is no vacuitie.
Though no bright Angel do appear
In this dispised Hemisphear;
Yet the Div'ls in't without all doubt
There's ne'r a crosse to keep him out.
De sunt nonnulla.
To a Friend wishing peace.
Let's all be friends! a happy peace
Would make us prize that 'bove our ease:
Then we wou'd home, and marrie too,
To keep that corner of the house
Yet left unsackt by civil foe,
And drink a round in dear carouse.
Would make us prize that 'bove our ease:
Then we wou'd home, and marrie too,
To keep that corner of the house
Yet left unsackt by civil foe,
And drink a round in dear carouse.
21
Oh what a happy thing it were,
To live secure, and free from fear
Of plunder! when the dul hind may
With pig in hand his yearly rent
To his old Landlord justly pay
In stead of King or Parliament!
To live secure, and free from fear
Of plunder! when the dul hind may
With pig in hand his yearly rent
To his old Landlord justly pay
In stead of King or Parliament!
No hurrie then of dread Alar'ms;
From sleep should fright us into Arms:
Gaols shou'd stand emptie then, and wee
Enlarged as the winds may breath
Each where, and as in Jubilee
Live free from fear of sudden death.
From sleep should fright us into Arms:
Gaols shou'd stand emptie then, and wee
Enlarged as the winds may breath
Each where, and as in Jubilee
Live free from fear of sudden death.
The Trumpet then shal onely blaze
In Christmas or at Puppet plaies;
Or serve the Clowns to summon o're
To wait o'th' Judge, at grand Assize;
And the drum onely beat before
A muzled Bear, or harmless prize.
In Christmas or at Puppet plaies;
Or serve the Clowns to summon o're
To wait o'th' Judge, at grand Assize;
And the drum onely beat before
A muzled Bear, or harmless prize.
Then shal we see no arms, but such
As in the great Hall hang o'th' crutch
All rust with cobwebs, which to clear
The Grooms and Coachmen, (as you know
It was the custome) once a year
Must at the Country training show.
As in the great Hall hang o'th' crutch
All rust with cobwebs, which to clear
The Grooms and Coachmen, (as you know
It was the custome) once a year
Must at the Country training show.
In the Kings highway then wee'l ride,
(Not skulking lest we should be spi'd
In private lanes or by-waies cut
By hardy Pioneer) a gentle pace,
In stead of marching to a hut
Or hedge, unto some warmer place.
(Not skulking lest we should be spi'd
In private lanes or by-waies cut
By hardy Pioneer) a gentle pace,
In stead of marching to a hut
Or hedge, unto some warmer place.
O'th' week-daies then wee'l bowle and chat
Of our dear loves, and you know what,
But not one syllable of State,
Amidst our pleasant mirth; and then
(If that Religion bear date)
Wee'l pray on Sundaies once agen.
Of our dear loves, and you know what,
22
Amidst our pleasant mirth; and then
(If that Religion bear date)
Wee'l pray on Sundaies once agen.
If Oliv'd peace should once more smile
And say, be happy! to this Isle,
(Dear friend!) as who knows but she may?)
I dare presume that you and I
Shal kiss her feet, and wish her stay;
And he that doth not, may he die!
And say, be happy! to this Isle,
(Dear friend!) as who knows but she may?)
I dare presume that you and I
Shal kiss her feet, and wish her stay;
And he that doth not, may he die!
Song in a siege.
Fil, fill the goblet full with sack!
I mean our tall black-jerkin Jack,
Whose hide is proofe 'gainst rabble-Rout,
And will keep all ill weathers out.
What though our plate be coin'd and spent?
Our faces next we'l send to th'mint:
And 'fore wee'l basely yield the town,
Sack it our selves and drink it down.
I mean our tall black-jerkin Jack,
Whose hide is proofe 'gainst rabble-Rout,
And will keep all ill weathers out.
What though our plate be coin'd and spent?
Our faces next we'l send to th'mint:
And 'fore wee'l basely yield the town,
Sack it our selves and drink it down.
Accurst be he doth talk or think
Of treating, or denies to drink,
Such drie hopsucking narrow souls
Taste not the freedome of our bowles.
They onely are besieg'd, whilst we
By drinking purchase libertie.
Wine doth enlarge, and ease our minds,
Who freely drinks no thraldome finds.
Of treating, or denies to drink,
Such drie hopsucking narrow souls
Taste not the freedome of our bowles.
They onely are besieg'd, whilst we
By drinking purchase libertie.
Wine doth enlarge, and ease our minds,
Who freely drinks no thraldome finds.
Let's drink then as we us'd to fight,
As long as we can stand, in spight
Of Foe or Fortune! who can tel?
Shee with our cups again may swell;
Hee neither dares to die or fight,
Whom harmless fears from healths affright:
Then let us drink our sorrows down,
And our selves up to keep the town.
As long as we can stand, in spight
Of Foe or Fortune! who can tel?
Shee with our cups again may swell;
23
Whom harmless fears from healths affright:
Then let us drink our sorrows down,
And our selves up to keep the town.
On the Creeple souldiers marching in Oxford in the Lord Thr. Cottington's Companie.
Stay Gentlemen! and you shal see a very rare sight;
Souldiers who though they want arms, yet wil fight:
Nay some of them have never a leg but onely Will:
Their Governour, and yet they'l stand to it stil.
The birds call'd Apodes they resemble, and seem
To be without either wing or leg, like them.
Oh the courage of a drunken and valiant man!
For each wil be going when he cannot stand!
Then room for Criples! here comes a companie,
Such as before I think you ne'r did see:
Here's one like a Pidgion goes pinion'd in spight
Of old Priapus, the birds to affright:
Another limps as if he had got the Pharse,
With his half leg like a Goose close up to his arse.
Yet mistake me not! this is no Puppet play;
You shal onely see the several motions to day.
Ran: tan: tan: with a spanish march and gate
Thus they follow their Leader according to his wonted state.
A Snaile or a Crablouse would march in a day.
If driven as led with the white staffe as far as they,
What I should cal them I hardly do know,
Foot they are not as appears by the show:
By the wearing of their Musquets to which they are ty'd,
They should be Dragooners had they horses to ride.
And yet now I think on't, they cannot be suc;
Because each man hath his rest for his crutch,
To these their Officer need not to say at alar'ms,
Stand to your Colours, or handle your arms:
Yet that they are Souldiours, you safely may say,
For they'l die before they wil run away:
Nay, they are stout as ever were Vantrumps,
For like Widdrington they'l fight upon their very stumps.
They have keen Estridge stomacks, and wel disgest
Both Iron and Lead, as a Dog wil a breast
Of Mutton. But now to their Pedigree;
That they are sons of Mars, most writers agree;
Some conceive from the Badger old Vulcan they came,
Because like him they are Mettle-men and lame,
The moderns think they came from the Guyes of Warwick; and
Some think they are of the old Herculean band:
For as by his foot he was discover'd, so
By their feet you their valour may know.
And though many wear wooden legs and crutches,
Yet, by Hercules, I can assure you, such is
Their steeled resolution, that here
You'l find none that wil the woodden dagger wear.
They're true and trustie Trojans all believe me,
And stride their wooden Palfreis well: t'would grieve me
To see them tire before they get
Unto the Holy-bush; but yet
If they should faint, at that end of the town,
They may set up their horses and lie down.
Most of these fighters, I would have you to know,
Were our brave Edgehil Mermidons awhile agoe.
Who were their limbs like their looser rags
Ready to leave them at the next hedge, with brags,
That through the merit of their former harms,
They die like Gentlemen though they bear no arms.
Souldiers who though they want arms, yet wil fight:
Nay some of them have never a leg but onely Will:
Their Governour, and yet they'l stand to it stil.
The birds call'd Apodes they resemble, and seem
To be without either wing or leg, like them.
Oh the courage of a drunken and valiant man!
For each wil be going when he cannot stand!
Then room for Criples! here comes a companie,
Such as before I think you ne'r did see:
Here's one like a Pidgion goes pinion'd in spight
Of old Priapus, the birds to affright:
Another limps as if he had got the Pharse,
With his half leg like a Goose close up to his arse.
Yet mistake me not! this is no Puppet play;
You shal onely see the several motions to day.
Ran: tan: tan: with a spanish march and gate
Thus they follow their Leader according to his wonted state.
A Snaile or a Crablouse would march in a day.
If driven as led with the white staffe as far as they,
What I should cal them I hardly do know,
Foot they are not as appears by the show:
By the wearing of their Musquets to which they are ty'd,
They should be Dragooners had they horses to ride.
And yet now I think on't, they cannot be suc;
Because each man hath his rest for his crutch,
24
Stand to your Colours, or handle your arms:
Yet that they are Souldiours, you safely may say,
For they'l die before they wil run away:
Nay, they are stout as ever were Vantrumps,
For like Widdrington they'l fight upon their very stumps.
They have keen Estridge stomacks, and wel disgest
Both Iron and Lead, as a Dog wil a breast
Of Mutton. But now to their Pedigree;
That they are sons of Mars, most writers agree;
Some conceive from the Badger old Vulcan they came,
Because like him they are Mettle-men and lame,
The moderns think they came from the Guyes of Warwick; and
Some think they are of the old Herculean band:
For as by his foot he was discover'd, so
By their feet you their valour may know.
And though many wear wooden legs and crutches,
Yet, by Hercules, I can assure you, such is
Their steeled resolution, that here
You'l find none that wil the woodden dagger wear.
They're true and trustie Trojans all believe me,
And stride their wooden Palfreis well: t'would grieve me
To see them tire before they get
Unto the Holy-bush; but yet
If they should faint, at that end of the town,
They may set up their horses and lie down.
Most of these fighters, I would have you to know,
Were our brave Edgehil Mermidons awhile agoe.
Who were their limbs like their looser rags
Ready to leave them at the next hedge, with brags,
That through the merit of their former harms,
They die like Gentlemen though they bear no arms.
Now some wil suspect that my Muse may be,
'Cause she is so lame, of this Companie:
And the rather, because one verse sometimes,
Is much shorter then his fellows to hold up the rithmes;
I confess before Criples to halt is not good:
Yet for excuse shee pleads, she understood
That things by their similies are best displaid,
And for that cause her feet are now Iambick made.
'Cause she is so lame, of this Companie:
And the rather, because one verse sometimes,
Is much shorter then his fellows to hold up the rithmes;
I confess before Criples to halt is not good:
Yet for excuse shee pleads, she understood
25
And for that cause her feet are now Iambick made.
Refrigerium.
Now through each vein my blood doth run
Hot as the Summers scorching Sun,
Whilst on what side so e'r I turn,
With double frying flames I burn.
To cool both Ætna's first I'l have
An Arbour coole as is the grave,
And with green shadie branches wove
As covert as Dodona's grove.
So that the Sun may not appear
At all in this close Hemisphere.
With Curran-bushes I'l hav't made
Vail'd o'r with Sycamores coole shade,
And mixt with Rasps and Cherrytrees,
Whose choice fruit may my pallat please.
Hot as the Summers scorching Sun,
Whilst on what side so e'r I turn,
With double frying flames I burn.
To cool both Ætna's first I'l have
An Arbour coole as is the grave,
And with green shadie branches wove
As covert as Dodona's grove.
So that the Sun may not appear
At all in this close Hemisphere.
With Curran-bushes I'l hav't made
Vail'd o'r with Sycamores coole shade,
And mixt with Rasps and Cherrytrees,
Whose choice fruit may my pallat please.
I'th' midst of which next shal be spread
Upon a large and spacious stead,
A frost-upon-green tabbie Quilt
Water'd, as if't had there bin spilt,
Strew'd o'r with Roses where I may
Naked my lazie limbs display;
And underneath't a Christal stream
Of fresh Rose-water still'd from them
Through th'limbeck of my body, that
My smelling Sense may recreate.
A marble Fountain next I'l have
Close by in a large hollow cave
Springing with Nilus seav'nfold streams,
Til they all meet in one fair Thames:
Washing in whose pure waters we
Diana and her Nymphs may see:
With other lively Pictures, that
My Seeing sense may recreate.
Upon a large and spacious stead,
A frost-upon-green tabbie Quilt
Water'd, as if't had there bin spilt,
Strew'd o'r with Roses where I may
Naked my lazie limbs display;
And underneath't a Christal stream
Of fresh Rose-water still'd from them
Through th'limbeck of my body, that
My smelling Sense may recreate.
A marble Fountain next I'l have
Close by in a large hollow cave
Springing with Nilus seav'nfold streams,
Til they all meet in one fair Thames:
Washing in whose pure waters we
Diana and her Nymphs may see:
26
My Seeing sense may recreate.
Next I wil have Arion play
Upon a Dolphins back, whose lay
Shal teach each bird to chirp and trie
How to excel his harmonie.
Orpheus his harp, Apollo's lyre
Shal with the Syrens fill the Quire.
With other sorts of Musick, that
My hearing Sense may recreate.
A Mirmaid next I'l have in stead
O th'Barber for to kemb my head:
All the four Winds too shal conspire
With gentle breize to coole my fire
Till I being fann'd with Ladies love,
Then their cold Sex shall colder prove.
Last, because nought cools better then
A Maid who warms and cooles agen.
I'l have a young plump amorous Queen,
Ripe though she be not yet fifteen.
'Twixt whose close arms and snowie breast
I may diffuse my heat, and rest:
Then bath my self in kisses, that
My Feeling Sense may recreate.
Thus when at once I all my Senses please,
Me thinks I feel my self in Paradise.
Upon a Dolphins back, whose lay
Shal teach each bird to chirp and trie
How to excel his harmonie.
Orpheus his harp, Apollo's lyre
Shal with the Syrens fill the Quire.
With other sorts of Musick, that
My hearing Sense may recreate.
A Mirmaid next I'l have in stead
O th'Barber for to kemb my head:
All the four Winds too shal conspire
With gentle breize to coole my fire
Till I being fann'd with Ladies love,
Then their cold Sex shall colder prove.
Last, because nought cools better then
A Maid who warms and cooles agen.
I'l have a young plump amorous Queen,
Ripe though she be not yet fifteen.
'Twixt whose close arms and snowie breast
I may diffuse my heat, and rest:
Then bath my self in kisses, that
My Feeling Sense may recreate.
Thus when at once I all my Senses please,
Me thinks I feel my self in Paradise.
| Clarastella | |