University of Virginia Library

Certaine Epigrams to the Kings most excellent Maiestie, the Queen, the Prince, the Princesse, and other Noble and Honourable Personages, and Friends; to whom the Author gave many of his Books.

To the Kings Maiestie.

Epigram 1.

Another to his Maiestie.

Epigram 2.

As he that feeds on no worse meat than Quailes,
And with choice dainties pleaseth appetite,
Will never have great lust to gnaw his nailes,
Or in a course thin diet take delight:
So thou great King, that still dost over-looke
The learned works that are most deep, most rare,
Canst not perhaps my ruder Satyrs brooke,
Nor dost thou for such sharp-fangd criticks care.
Oh doe not yet thy selfe so much estrange
From wonted courtesie to others showne,
A Country dish doth often serve for change;
And something here is worthy to be knowne.
Sharpe sauce gives sweetest meat a better taste,
And though that this to many bitter be,
Thou no such sicknesse in thy stomack hast,
And therefore 'twill be pleasing unto thee.
What though I neither flatter, fawne, nor sooth,
My honest plainnesse shall more truly praise thee,
Than those that in Court-language filed smooth
Strive unbeleeved Tropheis for to raise thee;
My loyall heart cannot so well impart
The love it beares your Majesty as others:
The want of Time Encouragement and Art,
My purpose in the Embrio still smothers.
Obscurity, crosse-fates, and want of means,
Would have made Romes great Maro harshly sing,
But if once Cæsar to his musick leans,
His tunes through all the world will sweetly ring.
And this made English wits, late famous grown,
Eliza's princely hand did oft peruse
Their well-tun'd Poem's; and her bounty shown
And that gives light and life to every Muse.
Oh! had I such a Star for Pole to mine,
I'de reach a Straine should ravish all the Nine.

To the Queens Majestie.

Epigram 3.

Daughter, Wife, Sister, Mother to a King,
And Empresse of the North, enrich thy Name:
Yet thou dost chastity and wisedome bring,
Beauty and bounty to make up thy fame.
Which sith (fair Queen) my Muse hath understood,
She's bold into thy presence to intrude;
Assured, honest meanings that are good
Shall finde acceptance there, though they seem rude.
Look and behold the Vanities of Men,
Their Miseries, their Weaknesse, & their Pride,
And when described by my rurall Pen,
Thou each particular hast here espide:
Think with thy selfe how blest thy Fortunes be
T'enjoy so rare a Prince, that both knows how
To keep himselfe from such fell Passion free,
And make so many mad wilde creatures bow:
Indeed her's Vices tablet plainly drawn;
Not veiled over, or obscurely drawn;
'Tis in a colour which shall never fade,
That men may blush on such a Hag to fawn.
But if your Grace will favour what I sing,
Though Vertue be in durance, I'll repreeve her,
That now-despised Nymph to honour bring,
Set all her hidden beauties forth; and give her
So sweet a look, and such a deft attyre,
Men shal grow love-sick, and burn with desire.

To Charles, Prince of Wales.

Epigram 4.

See here fair Off-spring of the Royall Stem,
What all the world almost is subject to;
Behold it so, thou truely maist contemne,
And from thy heart abhorre what others do;
Now is the fit and onely time to season
That young rare-understanding breast of thine
With sacred precepts, good advice and reason.
But there's no doubt thou wilt to good incline:
Inheritance, great Prince, will make it thine,
And were Mans nature yet more prone to fall,
So to be born and taught would help it all.

To the Princesse.

Epigram 5.

To the Lords of his Majesties most Honourable Privie-Councell.

Epigram 6.

Most honour'd Lords; I here present this Book
To your grave Censures, not to shew my Art:
N'er did you on so rude a matter look;
Yet 'tis the token of an honest heart.
I did it not to please or flatter any,
Nor have I made it for the thirst of gain;
For I am sure it will not humour many,
And I expect much hatred for my pain.
Here something you may see that now requires
Your care and providence to hav't amended:
That is the height, to which my Muse aspires,
And whereto I have all my labour tended.
It may be there be some out of their hate
Will mis-interpret what is plainly meant;
Or taxe me as too saucy with the State,
In hope to make me for the truth be shent:
Yet know, Great Lords, I do acknowledge here,
It is your wisedomes that next God maintains
This Kingdomes good. And from my heart I beare
A reverent respect unto your pains.
I do not, as such fain would have it seem,
Presume to teach your wisedomes what is best;
I do not my own knowledge so esteem:
Vile self-conceit I (from my heart) detest.
But for because I know the piercing'st eye
Can never into all abuses see:
And sith the greatest in authoritie
May not behold sometime so much as wee:
What therefore I have thought to be amisse,
And worth amending I have told it here:
I know your Honours will be pleas'd in this,
Though some (it may be) cannot rage forbeare.
But if there's any take this writing badly,
Had it told all, it would have vext him madly.

To Henry Earl of South-hampton.

Epigram 7.

South-hampton , sith thy Province brought me forth
And on those pleasant mountains I yet keep,
I ought to be no stranger to thy worth,
Nor let thy vertues in oblivion sleep.
Nor will I, if my fortunes give me time:
Mean while read this, and see what others bee.
If thou canst lik't, and wilt but grace my Rime,
I will so blaze thy Hampshire Springs and Thee,
Thy Arle, Test, Stowre, and Avon shall share Fame
Either with Humber, Severn, Trent, or Thame.

To William, Earl of Pembroke.

Epigram 8.

Thou whom no private ends can make unjust,
(True noble Spirit, free from hate or guile)
Thou, whom thy Prince for thy great care and trust
Hath plac'd to keep the entrance of this Ile.
See here th' Abuses of these wicked times;
I have expos'd them open to thy view
Thy judgement is not blinded with like crimes,
And therefore maist perceive that all is true.
Take't; for though I seem a stranger, I know thee;
And for thy vertues (Pembroke) this I owe thee.

To the Lord Lisle, Lord Chamberlain to the Queen.

Epigram 9.

A Sidney being, and so nere alli'd
To him whose matchlesse rare immortall Pen
Procur'd of Fame to have him deifi'd,
And live for ever in the hearts of men:
The love my soule hath ever born that name,
Would certainly perswade me for your sake,
In honest service to adventure blame,
Or any open dangers undertake:
Yet shall not that, your titles, nor your place,
Your honours, nor your might, nor all you have,
Cause me to flatter for regard or grace,
Fortune shall never make my minde a slave.
But seeing that your vertue shines apparant,
And honourable acts do speak your praise:
Sith Good-report hath given forth her warrant,
Which none (so much as by himselfe) gain-saies
That (and nought else but that) compells my Muse
To sing your worth, and to present her own.
If this imperfect issue you'l peruse,
I'll make her in a better form be known,
And teach her that is now so rude and plain,
To sore a pitch above the common strain.

To the Lady Mary Wroth.

Epigram 10.

To the Lord Ridgevvay.

To his Father.

Epigram 12.

To his Mother.

Epigram 13.

Vngratefull is the childe that can forget
The Mothers many pains, her cares, her feares,
And therefore, though I cannot pay the debt
Due for the smallest drop of your kinde teares;
This Book I for acknowledgement do give you,
Wherein you may perceive my heart and minde;
Let never false report of me more grieve you,
And you shall sure no just occasion finde.
Love made you apt to feare those slanders true,
Which in my absence were but lately sown;
It was a motherly distrust in you,
But those that rais'd them are false villains known.
For though I must confesse I am indeed
The vilest to my selfe that lives this time;
Yet to the world-ward I have tane such heed,
There's none can spot me with a haynous crime.
This I am forc'd to speak, you best know why;
And I dare strike him that dare say I lye?

To his deare Friend, Mr. Thomas Cranly.

Epigram 14.

Brother, for so I call thee, not because
Thou wert my Fathers or my Mothers sonne;
Not consanguinity, nor wedlock laws,
Could such a kindred twixt us have begun:
We are not of one bloud, nor yet name neither,
Nor sworn in brotherhood with Alehouse quarts;
We never were so much as drunk together,
'Twas no such sleight acquaintance joyn'd our hearts;
But a long knowledge with much trial did it;
Which are to chuse a friend the best directions)
And though we lov'd both well, at first both hid it,
Till 'twas discover'd by alike affections.
Since which thou hast o'er-gone me far in shewing
The office of a Friend. Do so and spare not:
(Lo here's a Memorandum for what's owing;)
But know, for all thy kind respect I care not
Vnlesse thou'lt shew how I may service do thee,
Then I will sweare I am beholding to thee.

To his loving Friend and Cousen-German, Mr. William Wither.

Epigram 15.

If that the Standerds of the house bewray
What Fortunes to the owners may betide;
Or if their destinies, as some men say,
Be in the names of any signifi'd,
'Tis so in thine: for that faire antique Shield
Born by thy Predecessors long agoe,
Depainted with a cleare pure Argent field,
The innocencie of thy line did show.
Three sable Crescents with a Cheveron gul'd:
Tells that black fates obscur'd our houses light;
Because the Planet that our fortunes rul'd,
Lost her own lustre, and was darkned quite:
And as indeed our adversaries say,
The very name of Wither shews decay.
But yet despaire not, keep thy white unstain'd,
And then it skills not what thy Crescents be.
What thogh the Moon be now increas'd, now wan'd!
Learne thence to know thy lives inconstancie;
Be carefull as thou hitherto hast bin
To shun th' abuses man is tax'd for here:
And then that brightnesse, now eclips'd with sin,
When Moon and Sun are darkned shall look cleare:
And whatsoe'er thy name may seem to threat,
That quality brave things doth promise thee;
E'er thou shalt want thy Hare will bring thee meat,
And to kill care, her selfe thy make-sport be:
Yea, (though yet Envies mists do make them dull)
I hope to see the waned Orbes at full.

To his School-Master, Mr. Iohn Greaves.

Epigram 16.

If ever I do wish I may be rich,
(As oft perhaps such idle breath I spend)
I do it not for any thing so much,
As to have wherewithall to pay my Friend.
For (trust me) there is nothing grieves me more
Than this; that I should still much kindnesse take,
And have a fortune (to my minde) so poore,
That (though I would) amends I cannot make:
Yet, to be still as thankfull as I may;
(Sith my estate no better means affords)
What I indeed receive, I do repay
In willingnesse, in thanks, and gentle words:
Then though your love doth well deserve to have
Better requitalls than are in my power,
Knowing you'l nothing ultra posse crave,
Here I have brought you some Essaies of our.
You may think much (perhaps) sith there's so many
Learn'd Graduats that have your Pupils been;
I who am none, and more unfit than any,
Should first presume in publike to be seen.
But you have heard, those horses in the Teem
That with their work are ablest to go through,
So forward seldome as blind Bayard seem,
Or give so many twiches to the Plough:
And so though they may better their intent
Is not, perhaps, to foole themselves in print.

To the captious Reader.

What thou maist say or think now, 'tis no matter;
But if thou busily imagine here,
Sith most of these are great ones that I flatter;
Know, sacred Iustice is to me so deare,
Did not their vertues in my thoughts thus raise thē,
To get an Empire by them, I'de not praise them.