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5

A Poem vpon the praise of vertue.

The first dayes worke.

Oh my deere Muse, that neuer could'st endure
The wicked courses of a wretched minde:
Nor euer learn'st by cunning to procure
The hatefull comforts of a hellish kinde:
But, euer hast the loue of vertue neere thee,
Speak in her praise, that all the world may heare thee.
Goe, tell the greatest Monarch (where thou goest)
She is a Queene to fit his Maiestie:
And, tell the wisest Counsellour thou knowest,
By her, his wit hath greatest dignitie:
And, tell the fairest, in her fairest grace,
Foule is her faire, except she blush her face.
Tell the Diuine, she giues a glorious light,
Vnto the truth of the eternall word:
Tell Valour, she makes but a bloody fight,
Except she guide the hand that holds the sword:
Tell all the Artes, their studies are but idle,
Except she hold the sences in a bridle.
Tell Honour that her Title's but a tittle,
Except she build the steps of her estate:
Tell Riches, all her Greatnes is but little,
Except she hold her Reckonings at a rate:
Tell Loue, alas, his treasure's but a toy,
Except she be the substance of the Ioy.
Goe, tell the world more then the world can tell,
All is as nought, where she's not all in all:
Tell Excellence, she neuer doth excell,
But, when her Grace, doth to her Glory fall:
Tell Truth her selfe, that in her trumpe of Fame,
Her highest Note is only in her name.
Oh, were she seene within the sacred fence
Of her high fauour alwaies with the highest;
Where Angels Grace, and Graces excellence,
Keepe her deere Loue vnto themselues the nighest;
Then would the world all humbly fall before her,
And, next to God, in harts and soules adore her,
Oh, could a King but note her Queene-like Nature,
What Maiestie is in an humble minde;
How, on the earth she makes a heauenly Creature,
In being louing, patient, true and kinde:
And in her sweetnes, sweetly so perceiue her,
No King on earth would for his Kingdom leaue her.
And, could a Queene behold her Glorious Grace,
How her true Loue doth truly louely make her:
And what a Sunne she sets vpon her face,
That makes the Godly for a Goddesse take her:
She would so truly and so deerely loue her,
That, no conceite should from her Court remoue her.
And did the grauest wisest Counsellour,
But sound the depth of her diuine conceite,
Where perfect Truth is Reasons Paramour:
When Wisedomes care doth cut off all deceite:
While sacred Iudgement in true Iustice sits,
Her will should be the Rule of all their Wits.
And, could the neatest Courtier once behold
How comly she is with a little cost:
How farre she is from euery pleating fold,
Where, fond expences are in folly lost:
They all would leaue their Antike Loues desire,
And, take their patternes from her plaine attire.
And, did the fairest Nimph, or Noblest Maide
Behold her Beauty in her glorious Brightnes,
Pure in it selfe, vnspotted, not beraide:
Nor, idely caried with a looke of Lightnes:
They would so farre her excellence preferre,
As, all would leaue themselues to follow her.
And, did the most experienc't Officer,
But note her cariage, in her seruice' care:
Where Conscience is the true examiner
Of all the thoughts, where Honours courses are:
While gracious spirits dwell in earthly Natures:
The Court would be a place of heauenly Creatures.
6

Did the Diuine see her Diuinitie,
And what a spouse vnto the soule she is:
Who, with the world hath no affinitie,
But, in the heauens hath her eternall blisse.
He would his life, vnto her loue referre;
And, leaue the world, for only Loue of her.
And, did the Lawyer looke into her lawes;
Where Truth and Loue doe trie the case of life;
And wicked Craft can neuer make a clause,
To feed Ambition with the fruite of strife:
But, euery plea, in pitties conscience proue:
All Law should onely liue, but in her loue.
And, did the Souldiour, in the points of Warre,
See how she sets the honour of the fight:
How from offences, she doth keepe afarre,
Yet, in the quarrell, doth maintaine the right:
And, saues the lyues, that doe to Mercy yeeld:
She should be high Commaunder of the field.
She is not lockt vp in the Misers Chest,
Nor, lapt vp in the lines of lewd conceite:
Her life is more in liberty faire blest,
Then, on the wills of wicked wit to waite:
No, no, it is too much against her nature,
To haue to doe with any wicked creature.
When she alone doth in her Closet sit,
Heauens open her the windowes of their light:
And Wisedomes spirit doth inspire her wit,
While holy Grace, doth guide her spirit right:
Saints teares, her Inke; her pennes of Angels wings,
While, to the Glory of her God she sings.
Her Paper is a pure, vnspotted hart,
Where thoughts are words, writ in the lines of loue:
Where Patience points at sorrowes inward smart,
While ruthfull passions doe Repentance proue:
And, Truth records, that Graces eyes may reade,
How soules are heal'd while sinfull harts doe bleede.
There, all the Angels, in their turnes attend;
To doe their seruice, in their purest sence;
While Wit and Reason, doe their Natures bend;
Vnto the life of Loues obedience:
And gathering so all gracious thoughts together;
She weares the Garland, that can neuer wither.
There, doth she put the Poets to their pensions,
Whose Wits are worne with too much worldly study,
And cannot reach the height of heauens Inuentions,
But, plod in pooles where plashes are too muddy:
And takes a Muse for Gracious Pleasures play,
To set her Musique in a heauenly Key.
There, doth she sing, how sweet a thing it is,
To see the heauens all blesséd thoughts embrace:
How Beauty sees the highest of her Blisse,
But in the feature of an Angels face:
While, Time and Truth doe in their triall proue,
There is no life but in the eternall Loue.
The fading pleasures of Affections play,
The partiall working of imperfect will:
The feeble state of fickle fancies stay,
The carelesse compasse of vnkindly skill:
The curséd humour of Inconstancie:
These hatefull humours she doth all defie.
No, where she loues, it ends but with her life,
And whē she speakes, her Iudgements shewes her wit:
And, when she writes, her Concords know no strife,
What choise conceite shall chiefe in honour sit:
But speake, and write, and looke, and like, and loue,
All haue their blessings in the heauens aboue.
She giues the King a high Supremacie,
And, to his Queene, a Gracious Maiestie:
And, to his Court she giues a Decencie,
And to his State she giues an Vnitie:
And, to the Rich a superfluity,
And, to the poore, a bounteous charity.
She giues the Scholler Vnderstanding sence,
And, to the Souldiour, Resolution:
And, to the Iudge an vpright Conscience,
And the Repentant, Absolution:
The Trades-man, care, to keepe his family,
The Labourer, patience, and Humility.
She leades a King into his Cabinet,
And, shewes him there the burthen of his Crowne,
Before his eyes she doth his Kingdom set,
And to his God his duty doth set downe:
She shewes him there the fall of idle pride,
And, how his person doth in safety bide.
She shewes him there the honour of her oue,
The ground of Grace in the eternall good:
She shewes the blessing of the soules behoue,
Vpon the breeding of a Royall brood:
And, that Religion is the Rule of Grace,
That keepes the kingdome in a happy case.
She shewes him there, the benefit of peace,
The hurt of Warre, the hate of Tyrannie:
The Ioy of Loue, the happinesse encrease:
Where Wisedomes cares are Honours companie:
And, sound aduise in sacred veritie,
Maintaines a Monarch in his Maiestie.
She shewes him there how flattery folly feedes,
While Reason sees the ruine of selfe-will;
She shewes the difference, twixt the herbs and weedes,
Wicked illusion, and discretions skill;
She shewes him all, that she thinks fit to show him,
To strength his State, that nothing ouerthrow him.
She shewes him there the sweet contentiue life
Is not still caried in varieties;
Nor faithfull Care doth feare the fatall knife,
That is not subiect to Impieties:
But he alone, is all, and onely Blest,
Who, all in Mercy, hath his spirits Rest.
7

She makes him see, that he could neuer see,
But, through her sight, the brightnes of all Seeing;
She makes him be, that he could neuer be,
But in the blessing of her blessed Being:
Thus, all in summe, she makes him see, and be
That without her, he could not be, nor see.
She gaines him all his Greatnes in her Grace,
His Countries loue, the honour of his Court:
She keepes him safely in his kingly place,
And, to the world she doth his fame report;
And, when frō earth Death must his Crowne disseuer,
She makes him raigne a King in heauen for euer.
She takes a Queene vnto her selfe a-side,
And, shewes her all the Glory of her Grace:
How, she alone doth make the blessed Bride,
And, how she keepes her in her highest place:
She makes the King in glorious Robes attire her,
And, all the Court, loue, honour, and admire her.
Then doth she bring her humbly on her knees,
And, sets before her the faire booke of Blisse,
Bids her there finde that she can neuer leese,
The care of life, where euery comfort is:
When lifting vp her heart with humble eie,
She sees a Beautie brighter then the skie.
There she beholds in Mercies Maiestie,
Her Sauiour sitting on a glorious Throne:
Where, in the Essence of Eternitie,
He rules all powers in himselfe, alone:
When, seeing her thus humbly fall before him,
He blesseth her that doth so much adore him.
Then, doth she see the Angels exercise,
Who, with the Saints and Virgins sit and sing:
While humble spirits make their Sacrifice,
Vnto the Glory of their Gracious King:
While, all the Hoast of all the heauen reioyces,
To heare the Musique of the heauenly voyces.
Then, doth she set the Consort of the Quier,
Where euery Note doth keepe his Tune and Time:
The ditty only speaking of Desire,
Where, loue doth only vnto Mercy clime:
Where euery Close doth in such comfort meete,
That all the Heauens are rauisht with the sweete.
She takes the Virgine to her Morning taske,
And sets her downe a forme of faithfull praier:
But, couers not her Beauty with a Maske,
When she hath made her truly heauenly faire:
But, brings her forth with such a Blessed Grace,
As, makes him happy that may see her face.
She shewes her in a Glasse of Beauties Truth,
How, Art doth Nature too much iniurie;
That feebled Age in forcéd tricks of Youth,
In true Conceite is Reasons Mockerie;
The idle thoughts that spoile the inward eies,
Where Loue should liue, but in dishonour dies.
She shewes her there the Maiden-blush complection,
Betwixt the cherrie Red, and snowie White:
And, reades her then the precepts of perfection,
Within the circle of Dianas sight.
She shewes her all the Titles of desart,
And, that true honour liues but in the hart.
She neuer taught the Eye to leere nor lowre,
Tongue, idle talke; nor minde, vngratious thought:
She neuer set a countenance sharpe and sowre,
Nor, fetch't a sigh vpon a thing of nought:
But, shewes her Iudgement of so iust a Measure,
As, proues her Wisedome worth a world of Treasure.
She shewes her then, how Fancie like a Flea,
Can skip about a skittish humour'd hart:
And, how that sorrow like the Ocean Sea,
Can drowne the spirit in a deadly smart:
While Melancholy doth oppresse the Minde,
Where better humours haue no place to finde.
Then, doth she take the Counsailour alone,
And, shewes him all the secrets of his hart,
Bids him behold the Mournfull Widowes moane,
The Orphanes teares, the grieuéd Sutors smart:
Loue, feare, and serue, first God, and then his King,
And, doe no worke that may his Conscience wring.
She tells him then, the heau'nly Consistorie
Doth only sit vpon the spirits good:
Where, in the sight of sacred Wisedomes eie,
Cannot a clawse amisse be vnderstood:
While, Truth it selfe, that pleads the poore mans case,
From Mercies Iustice hath impartiall Grace.
Then, doth she take aside the Courtier,
And, shewes him all the fruites of idlenes;
That, fancie is but follies Treasurer,
While Wit is thrall vnto vnthriftines:
While Pride presuming on deceiuing Hope,
Griefe doth the Gate but to Repentance ope.
She tells him there she neuer taught the eye
To feede the spirit with an idle Gaze:
She neuer taught the tongue to walke awrie,
Nor, brought the minde into a wilfull Maze:
She neuer taught the fashion, nor the cost,
Where, Wisedome sees time, and expence but lost.
She neuer teacheth to play fast and loose,
Nor, iuggle with a false conceiuèd Ioy:
Nor, let the Foxe be taken by a Goose,
Nor, euer sold a treasure for a toy:
She neuer taught him to misspend his time,
Nor higher state then his desert to clime.
She neuer taught him how to crouch, nor creepe,
Nor scorne, nor scoffe, nor hang the head a-side:
Nor sigh, nor sob, nor wipe the eye, and weepe,
Nor hatefull thoughts in louing lookes to hide:
No, no, she is of a more heauenly Nature,
Then, with such by-wit to abuse a Creature.
8

Then, doth she call for euery Officer,
And bids him strictly looke into his Oath,
That, Conscience may be true deliuerer
Of an vnspotted, simple faith, and troth:
That seruice loue by duties care discharged,
In Honours eye make due Reward enlarged.
Then, doth she take account of his accounts,
How, all the summes doe with the parcels gree:
And, how much cunning Conscience surmounts,
And, what in fine, the finall summe will be:
And, tells him that a counting day will come,
When he shall make account for all and some.
Thus, when she hath the Courtiers all reade ouer,
She calls the Lawyer to a conscience case,
And, tells him, Truth is Learnings only Louer,
Who, neuer puts the poore Man out of place:
But, holds the hand of Iustice weight so euen,
As if the Ballance had the Beame in Heauen.
She neuer takes a Bribe to make a Motion,
Nor, soothes a client in a false Conceite;
She neuer seekes an vndeseru'd promotion,
Nor sells her Beauty vnto the poore by weight;
No, she is true, and iust, and wise, and kinde,
And as she thinks, will euer speake her minde.
Then doth she take the Souldiour in his Tent,
And shewes him there the hideous sight of blood:
That, Mercy euer with true valour went,
To spoile the wicked, but to spare the good:
That, Conquest neuer is in true perfection,
But when a Man can Maister his Affection.
She teacheth not a wicked Stratagem,
Nor, how for Coine to buy and sell a Towne:
Nor to vsurpe a princely Diadem,
Nor raise the vile, nor put the vertuous downe:
No, when she once begins to leuie Armes,
The good haue Grace, the only wicked harmes.
She neuer prai'd vpon the poore Man's purse,
Nor tyraniz'd vpon the Prisoner:
She neuer reap't the Mournfull Widowes Curse,
Nor of an Infant was a Murtherer:
She neuer was by Sea nor Land a Thiefe,
But had Compassion on the poore Mans griefe.
Thus hauing shew'd the Souldiour what she knowes,
Becomes the cariage of a Noble Minde:
She calls the Merchant, and to him she showes,
That, Conscience care is of a heauenly kinde:
While no corruption can the soule infect,
That to the spirit hath a due respect.
She shewes him there, there is no ware, nor weight,
But the all-Seeing-Eye in secret sees,
And, that no cunning can excuse deceite,
Which gaining drosse, doth better siluer leese:
She tells him plaine it is ill gotten gaine,
For fading pleasure gets eternall paine.
She tells him, that the aduenture on the Sea,
Is not all blest to enrich the couetous:
Nor to maintaine the Epicure his Ease,
The proud, the bad, nor the vitious:
But, to prouide for neede, and to relieue
The needy hart, whom griping want doth grieue.
In some, she shewes him that the spirits wealth,
Is free from all vnconscionable ill:
And, howsoeuer, Wit doth worke by stealth,
There is no Wisedome but the Gratious will:
Where carefull Loue, where Comfort neuer wasteth,
Laies vp the Treasure that for euer lasteth.
Then, doth she call on euery Trade and Art,
And, still cries out, haue care of Conscience:
Bids euery eye, looke well into the hart,
And, not be caried with a wicked sence:
For, in the day of the eternall Doome,
Plainenes in heauen will haue a princely Roome.
What, though sometime her habite be but poore,
Her lodging hard, her diet spare and thinne:
She stand disgracéd at the rich mans doore,
And fast without, while other feast within:
Yet, is she better with her Crosse contented,
Then, sport with sinnes, to haue her soule tormented.
And, though sometime she sit and hold her peace,
While, idle heads doe vse their tongues at large:
And, grieue to see true Learnings worth decrease,
When that a Dunce doth take a Doctors charge;
Yet, may the world in all her courses know,
'Tis not her will, God knowes, it shall be so.
And, though sometime she be in fetters tied,
While wicked spirits walke at liberty,
And, be enforc'd her fairest thoughts to hide,
While hatefull thoughts are had in Dignitie:
Yet hath she patience to endure her crosses,
While heau'nly gaine doth counteruaile her losses.
Oh, could the world discerne her worthines,
In all true honour, in all honours truth:
How she doth only giue a happines
Vnto the grauest Age, and greenest Youth:
Euen from the King, vnto the poorest Creature,
She would be honour'd in a heau'nly Nature.
But, let the world esteeme her as it will,
She shall be worth more then the world is worth:
And, when the world shall blush to see her ill,
Then shall she bring her heauenly Beauty forth:
And make them all confesse vnto their faces,
Her Glory puts them all vnto disgraces.
She neuer speakes but Truth, nor doth but well,
Her thoughts all pure, and grounded on perfection:
She doth among the holy Muses dwell,
And guides the Graces, all by her direction:
She is the Bodies Grace, the spirits Queene,
In whom all Graces haue their Glory seene.
9

Oh, that I could describe her in her height,
As God and her good Grace might giue me leaue:
How all the Saints, and all the Angels waite,
But on her will, and from the same receiue
The highest substance of their heau'nly Blisse,
In whom alone all heau'nly Blessing is.
Then should the world be all asham'd to see,
How basely they her glorious Grace regarded:
And grieue in soules to thinke that euer she
Should for her seruice be so ill rewarded:
That few or none, wise, fond, nor rich, nor poore,
But ready are to thrust her out of doore.
Then should the Courts of Princes flock vnto her,
And Lords and Ladies sue to her for Grace:
And happy soules that best can seruice doe her,
And seeke their life but in her louely face:
And then her Grace, such should a glory beare,
That there should be no world but where she were.
But since her worth is to the world vnknowne,
And only Heauen doth her deere Loue embrace:
Her worth is more then can in words be showne,
While Grace it selfe can only shew her Grace:
Let me but leaue her in all Admiration,
To Virgins, Saints, and Angels Adoration.
And let me say but what in soule I finde:
She is the essence of all Excellence:
The Eie, the Heart, the Body, and the Minde,
Where holy Rules haue all their Residence:
Of all good Motions the first only Mouer,
The proofe of loue, and of Loue's proofe the Louer.
The strength of Truth, th' assurance of all Trust,
The Concordance of all contentiue care:
The Iudgement of the Wisedome of the Iust,
The sacred shop of the Celestiall ware:
The Iemme for which no price can be too great,
Th' Eternall Manna for the spirits Meate.
The Eie of light, where Loue hath all his life,
The tong of Truth, where Wisedom hath her words:
The heart of peace, where patience knowes no strife,
The hand of Bounty that all Grace affords:
The face of Beauty where all Brightnes shineth,
The soule of wonder that all words defineth.
The soile wherein all sweetnes euer groweth,
The Fountaine where all Wisedome euer springeth:
The winde that neuer but all blessing bloweth,
The Aire that all comfort euer bringeth:
The fire that euer life with Loue enflameth,
The figure that all true perfection frameth.
The study of the soules Intelligence,
The Art of Wisedomes high Inuention:
The Rule of Reasons best Experience,
The worke of Mercies Glorious Mention:
The ground of Honour, and discretions Grace,
Place's perfection, and perfection's place.
All this, and more then I can speak or write,
In Vertue liues, and to her loue belongs:
And, though the world doe barre her of her right,
Yet heauen will one day right her of her wrong.
And make the world to know her gratious Nature,
And, how she only makes the Glorious Creature.
And, since that day will one day come vnwares,
When she will call a Court of all her Teanures,
And, see the fruite of all her seruants wares,
And, take an order for all Misdemeanures:
Let all the world be fearefull to offend her,
And thinke them happy that can best attend her.
Let euery Creature seeke and sue to serue her,
And euery King, and Lord, and Lady loue her:
And euery heart endeuour to deserue her,
And euery Minde for some good Motion moue her:
And euery tongue in true perfection praise her,
And euery soule to endlesse Glory raise her.
And let me aske a pardon of heau'ns Grace,
For my poore spirits mounting vp so high:
Who, for my sinnes doth bid me hide my face,
And not to heau'n to dare to lift mine eie:
And say no more, but end as I began,
She is a Queene of Queenes, and I haue done.
And since that Vertue neuer can be seene,
But by the Eie of Wisedomes sacred sence:
Where she beholds her as the Blessed Queene,
That weares the Crowne of Reasons excellence:
Let me beseech the Heauens my soule to Raise,
To speake of Wisedome in her worthy praise.
And, though I know, and cannot but confesse
My thoughts vnable to aspire so high,
And euery way but all vnworthinesse
In me, to write of such a Misterie:
Yet let my heart a little tell my Minde,
What wonder worth, in Wisedomes works I finde.
Gloria in excelsis Deo.
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