Poems and Dramas of Fulke Greville :: :: University of Virginia Library

Poems and Dramas of Fulke Greville

First Lord Brooke: Edited with introductions and notes by Geoffrey Bullough

Greville, Fulke (1554-1628)

CÆLICA

[subsection]

A TREATIE OF HUMANE LEARNING

AN INQVISITION VPON FAME AND HONOVR

A TREATIE OF WARRES

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CÆLICA

Sonnet I

[Loue, the delight of all well-thinking minds]

Loue, the delight of all well-thinking minds;
Delight, the fruit of vertue dearely lov'd;
Vertue, the highest good, that reason finds;
Reason, the fire wherein mens thoughts bee prov'd;
Are from the world by Natures power bereft,
And in one creature, for her glory, left.

Beautie, her couer is, the eyes true pleasure;
In honours fame she liues, the eares sweet musicke;
Excesse of wonder growes from her true measure;
Her worth is passions wound, and passions physicke;
From her true heart, cleare springs of wisdome flow,
Which imag'd in her words and deeds, men know.

Time faine would stay, that she might never leave her,
Place doth reioyce, that she must needs containe her,
Death craues of Heauen, that she may not bereaue her,
The Heauens know their owne, and doe maintaine her;
Delight, Loue, Reason, Vertue let it be,
To set all women light, but only she.

Sonnet II

[Faire Dog, which so my heart dost teare asunder]

Faire Dog, which so my heart dost teare asunder,
That my liues-blood, my bowels ouerfloweth,
Alas, what wicked rage conceal'st thou vnder
These sweet enticing ioyes, thy forehead showeth?

Me, whom the light-wing'd God of long hath chased,
Thou hast attain'd, thou gau'st that fatall wound,
Which my soules peacefull innocence hath rased,
And reason to her seruant humour bound.

Kill therefore in the end, and end my anguish,
Give me my death, me thinks euen time vpbraideth
A fulnesse of the woes, wherein I languish:
Or if thou wilt I liue, then pittie pleadeth
Helpe out of thee, since Nature hath reuealed,
That with thy tongue thy bytings may be healed.

Sonnet III

[More than most faire, full of that heauenly fire]

More than most faire, full of that heauenly fire,
Kindled aboue to shew the Makers glory,
Beauties first-born, in whom all powers conspire,
To write the Graces life, and Muses storie.
If in my heart all Saints else be defaced,
Honour the Shrine, where you alone are placed.

Thou window of the skie, and pride of spirits,
True Character of honour in perfection,
Thou heauenly creature, Iudge of earthly merits,
And glorious prison of mans pure affection,
If in my heart all Nymphs else be defaced,
Honour the shrine, where you alone are placed.

Sonnet IV

[You little starres that liue in skyes]

You little starres that liue in skyes,
And glory in Apollo's glorie,
In whose aspects conioined lyes
The Heauens will, and Natures storie,
Ioy to be likened to those eyes,
Which eyes make all eyes glad, or sorie,
For when you force thoughts from aboue,
These ouer-rule your force by loue.

And thou O Loue, which in these eyes
Hast married Reason with Affection,
And made them Saints of beauties skyes,
Where ioyes are shadowes of perfection,
Lend me thy wings that I may rise
Vp not by worth but thy election;
For I haue vow'd in strangest fashion,
To loue, and neuer seeke compassion.

Sonnet V

[Who trusts for trust, or hopes of loue for loue]

Who trusts for trust, or hopes of loue for loue,
Or who belou'd in Cupids lawes doth glory;
Who ioyes in vowes, or vowes not to remoue,
Who by this light God, hath not beene made sory;
Let him see me eclipsed from my Sunne,
With shadowes of an Earth quite ouer-runne.

Who thinks that sorrowes felt, desires hidden,
Or humble faith with constant honour armed,
Can keep loue from the fruit that is forbidden,
(Change I doe meane by no faith to be charmed,)
Looking on me, let him know, loues delights
Are treasures hid in caues, but kept with sprites.

Sonnet VI

[Eyes, why did you bring vnto me those graces]

Eyes, why did you bring vnto me those graces,
Grac'd to yeeld wonder out of her true measure,
Measure of all ioyes, stay to phansie-traces,
Module of pleasure?

Reason is now growne a disease in reason,
Thoughts knit vpon thoughts free alone to wonder,
Sense is a spie, made to doe phansie treason,
Loue goe I vnder.

Since then eyes pleasure to my thoughts betray me,
And my thoughts reasons-leuell haue defaced,
So that all my powers to be hers, obey me,
Loue be thou graced.

Grac'd by me Loue? no, by her that owes me.
She that an Angells spirit hath retained
In Cupids faire skie, which her beauty showes me,
Thus haue I gained.

Sonnet VII

[The World, that all containes, is euer mouing]

The World, that all containes, is euer mouing,
The Starres within their spheres for euer turned,
Nature (the Queene of Change) to change is louing,
And Forme to matter new, is still adiourned.

Fortune our phansie-God, to varie liketh,
Place is not bound to things within it placed,
The present time vpon time passed striketh,
With Phœbus wandring course the earth is graced.

The Ayre still moues, and by its mouing cleareth,
The Fire vp ascends, and planets feedeth,
The Water passeth on, and all lets weareth,
The Earth stands still, yet change of changes breedeth;

Her plants, which Summer ripes, in Winter fade,
Each creature in vnconstant mother lyeth,
Man made of earth, and for whom earth is made,
Still dying liues, and liuing euer dyeth;
Onely like fate sweet Myra neuer varies,
Yet in her eyes the doome of all Change carries.

Sonnet VIII

[Selfe-pitties teares, wherein my hope lyes drown'd]

Selfe-pitties teares, wherein my hope lyes drown'd,
Sighs from thoughts fire, where my desires languish,
Despaire by humble loue of beauty crown'd,
Furrowes not worne by time, but wheeles of anguish;
Dry vp, smile, ioy, make smooth, and see
Furrowes, despaires, sighes, teares, in beauty be.

Beauty, out of whose clouds my heart teares rained,
Beauty, whose niggard fire sighs' smoke did nourish,
Beauty, in whose eclipse despaires remained,
Beauty, whose scorching beames make wrinkles florish;
Time hath made free of teares, sighs, and despaire,
Writing in furrowes deep; she once was faire.

Sonnet IX

[O Loue, thou mortall sphere of powers diuine]

O Loue, thou mortall sphere of powers diuine,
The paradise of Nature in perfection,
What makes thee thus thy Kingdome vndermine,
Vailing thy glories vnder woes reflection?
Tyrannie counsell out of feare doth borrow,
To thinke her Kingdome safe in feare, and sorrow.

If I by nature, Wonder and Delight,
Had not sworne all my powers to worship thee,
Iustly mine owne reuenge receiue I might,
And see thee, Tyrant, suffer tyrannie:
See thee thy selfe-despaire, and sorrow breeding,
Vnder the wounds of woe and sorrow bleeding.

For sorrow holds mans life to be her owne,
His thoughts her stage, where tragedies she plaies,
Her orbe she makes his Reason ouerthrowne,
His loue foundations for her ruines layes;
So as while loue will torments of her borrow,
Loue shall become the very loue of sorrow.

Loue therefore speake to Cælica for me,
Shew her thy selfe in euerything I doe;
Safely thy powers she may in others see,
And in thy power see her glories too;
Moue her to pitty, stay her from disdaine,
Let neuer man loue worthinesse in vaine.

Sonnet X

[Loue, of mans wandring thoughts the restlesse being]

Loue, of mans wandring thoughts the restlesse being,
Thou from my mind with glory wast inuited,
Glory of those faire eyes, where all eyes, seeing
Vertues and beauties riches, are delighted;
What Angells pride, or what selfe-disagreeing,
What dazling brightnesse hath your beames benighted,
That fall'n thus from those ioyes which you aspired,
Downe to my darkened minde you are retired?

Within which minde since you from thence ascended,
Truth clouds it selfe, Wit serues but to resemble,
Enuie is King, at others good offended,
Memorie doth worlds of wretchednesse assemble,
Passion to ruin passion is intended,
My reason is but power to dissemble;
Then tell me Loue, what glory you diuine
Your selfe can find within this soule of mine?

Rather goe backe vnto that heauenly quire
Of Natures riches, in her beauties placed,
And there in contemplation feed desire,
Which till it wonder, is not rightly graced;
For those sweet glories, which you doe aspire,
Must, as Ideas only be embraced
Since excellence in other forme enioyed,
Is by descending to her Saints destroyed.

Sonnet XI

[Ivno, that on her head Loues liuerie carried]

Ivno, that on her head Loues liuerie carried,
Scorning to weare the markes of Io's pleasure,
Knew while the Boy in Æquinoctiall tarried,
His heats would rob the heauen of heauenly treasure,
Beyond the Tropicks she the Boy doth banish,
Where smokes must warme, before his fire do blaze,
And Childrens thoughts not instantly grow Mannish,
Feare keeping lust there very long at gaze:
But see how that poore Goddesse was deceiued,
For Womens hearts farre colder there than ice,
When once the fire of lust they haue receiued,
With two extremes so multiply the vice,
As neither partie satisfying other,
Repentance still becomes desires mother.

Sonnet XII

[Cvpid, thou naughtie Boy, when thou wert loathed]

Cvpid, thou naughtie Boy, when thou wert loathed,
Naked and blind, for vagabunding noted,
Thy nakednesse I in my reason clothed,
Mine eyes I gaue thee, so was I deuoted.

Fye Wanton, fie; who would shew children kindnesse?
No sooner he into mine eyes was gotten,
But straight he clouds them with a seeing blindnesse,
Makes reason wish that reason were forgotten.

From thence to Myra's eyes the Wanton strayeth,
Where while I charge him with vngratefull measure,
So with faire wonders he mine eyes betrayeth,
That my wounds, and his wrongs, become my pleasure;
Till for more spite to Myra's heart he flyeth,
Where liuing to the world, to me he dieth.

Sonnet XIII

[Cvpid, his Boyes play many times forbidden]

Cvpid, his Boyes play many times forbidden
By Venus, who thinks Mars best manhood boyish,
While he shot all, still for not shooting chidden,
Weepes himselfe blind to see that Sexe so coyish.

And in this blindnesse wandreth many places,
Till his foe Absence, hath him prisonner gotten,
Who breaks his arrowes, bow and wings defaces,
Keepes him till he his Boys play hath forgotten.

Then lets him loose, no God of yeeres, but houres,
Cures and restores him all things, but his blindnesse,
Forbids him nothing but the constant powers,
Where Absence neuer can haue power of kindnesse:
Ladies, this blind Boy that ran from his Mother,
Will euer play the wag with one or other.

Sonnet XIV

[Why how now Reason, how are you amazed?]

Why how now Reason, how are you amazed?
Is Worth in Beauty, shrin'd vp to be lothed?
Shall Natures riches by your selfe be razed?
In what but these can you be finely clothed?

Though Myra's eyes, glasses of ioy, and smart,
Daintily shadowed, shew forth loue and feare,
Shall feare make reason from her right depart?
Shall lacke of hope the loue of worth forbeare?

Where is the homage then that Nature oweth?
Loue is a tribute to perfection due,
Reason in selfe-loues-liuerie bondage showeth,
And hath no freedome, Myra, but in you;
Then Worth, Loue, Reason, Beauty be content,
In Myra onely to be permanent.

Sonnet XV

[When gentle Beauties ouer-wanton kindnesse]

When gentle Beauties ouer-wanton kindnesse,
Had giuen loue the liberty of playing,
Change brought his eye-sight by and by to blindnesse,
Still hatching in excesse her owne decaying;
Then cut I selfe-loues wings to lend him fethers,
Gaue him mine eyes to see, in Myra's glory,
Honour and Beauty reconcil'd togethers
Of Loue, the birth, the fatall tombe and story.
Ah Wag, no sooner he that sphere had gotten,
But out of Myra's eyes my eyes he woundeth;
And, but his Boyes-play hauing all forgotten,
His heate in her chast coldnesse so confoundeth,
As he that burnes must freeze, who trusts must feare,
Ill quarter'd coats, which yet all Louers beare.

Sonnet XVI

[Fye foolish Earth, thinke you the heauen wants glory]

Fye foolish Earth, thinke you the heauen wants glory,
Because your shadowes doe your selfe be-night?
All's darke vnto the blind, let them be sory,
The heauens in themselues are euer bright.

Fye fond desire, thinke you that Loue wants glory,
Because your shadowes doe your selfe benight?
The hopes and feares of lust, may make men sorie,
But loue still in her selfe finds her delight.

Then Earth stand fast, the skye that you benight
Will turne againe, and so restore your glory;
Desire be steady, hope is your delight,
An orbe wherein no creature can be sorie;
Loue being plac'd aboue these middle regions,
Where euery passion warres it selfe with legions.

Sonnet XVII

[Cynthia, whose glories are at Full for euer]

Cynthia, whose glories are at Full for euer,
Whose beauties draw forth teares, and kindle fires,
Fires, which kindled once are quenched neuer,
So beyond hope your worth beares vp desires.

Why cast you clouds on your sweet looking eyes?
Are you afraid they shew me too much pleasure?
Strong Nature decks the graue wherein it lyes,
Excellence can neuer be exprest in measure.

Are you afraid, because my heart adores you,
The world will thinke I hold Endymion's place?
Hippolytus, sweet Cynthia, kneel'd before you,
Yet did you not come downe to kisse his face.
Angells enioy the heauens inward Quires:
Starre-gazers only multiply desires.

Sonnet XVIII

[I offer wrong to my beloued Saint]

I offer wrong to my beloued Saint,
I scorne, I change, I falsify my loue,
Absence and time haue made my homage faint,
With Cupid I doe euery where remoue.

I sigh, I sorrow, I doe play the foole,
Mine eyes like Weather-cocks, on her attend:
Zeale thus on either side she puts to schoole,
That will needs haue inconstancy to friend.

I grudge, she saith, that many should adore her,
Where loue doth suffer, and thinke all things meet,
She saith, All selfe-nesse must fall downe before her:
I say, Where is the sauce should make that sweet?
Change and contempt (you know) ill speakers be:
Cælica: and such are all your thoughts of me.

Sonnet XIX

[Ah silly Cupid, doe you make it coy]

Ah silly Cupid, doe you make it coy
To keepe your seate in Cala's furrowed face?
Thinke in her beauty what you did enioy,
And doe not seruice done you so disgrace.

She that refused not any shaft you shot,
Lent dewes to Youth, and sparks to Old desire;
If such flat homage be so soone forgot,
Many good fellowes will be out of hire.

Good Archers euer have two bowes at least,
With beauty faded shoot the elder sort;
For though all be not to shoot at the best,
Yet Archers with their Butting-bowes make sport:
The glory that men in good Kingdomes see,
Is when both Yong, and Old in traffique be.

Sonnet XX

[Why how now Cupid, doe you couet change?]

Why how now Cupid, doe you couet change?
And from a Stealer to a Keepers state,
With barkings Doggs doe you the Couerts range,
That carried bread to still them but of late?

What shall we doe that with your Bow are wounded?
Your Bow which blindeth each thing it doth hit,
Since feare and lust in you are so confounded,
As your hot fire beares water still in it.

Play not the foole, for though your Dogs be good,
Hardy, loud, earnest, and of little sleep,
Yet mad desires with cryes are not with-stood,
They must be better arm'd that meane to keep:
And since vnweapon'd care makes men forlorne,
Let me first make your Dogge an Vnicorne.

Sonnet XXI

[Sathan, no Woman, yet a wandring spirit]

Sathan, no Woman, yet a wandring spirit,
When he saw ships saile two wayes with one wind,
Of Saylers trade he hell did disinherit:
The Diuell himselfe loues not a halfe-fast mind.

The Satyre when he saw the Shepheard blow
To warme his hands, and make his pottage coole,
Manhood forsweares, and halfe a beast did know,
Nature with double breath is put to schoole.

Cupid doth head his shafts in Womens faces,
Where smiles and teares dwell euer neere together,
Where all the Arts of Change giue Passion graces;
While these clouds threaten, who feares not the weather?
Saylers and Satyres, Cupids Knights, and I,
Feare Women that Sweare, Nay; and know they lye.

Sonnet XXII

[I with whose colors Myra drest her head]

I with whose colors Myra drest her head,
I, that ware posies of her owne hand making,
I, that mine owne name in the chimnies read
By Myra finely wrought ere I was waking:
Must I looke on, in hope time comming may
With change bring backe my turne againe to play?

I, that on Sunday at the Church-stile found,
A Garland sweet, with true-loue knots in flowers,
Which I to weare about mine arme was bound,
That each of vs might know that all was ours:
Must I now lead an idle life in wishes?
And follow Cupid for his loaues, and fishes?

I, that did weare the ring her Mother left,
I, for whose loue she gloried to be blamed,
I, with whose eyes her eyes committed theft,

I, who did make her blush when I was named;
Must I lose ring, flowers, blush, theft and go naked,
Watching with sighs, till dead loue be awaked?

I, that when drowsie Argus fell asleep,
Like Iealousie o'rewatched with desire,
Was euen warned modestie to keepe,
While her breath, speaking, kindled Natures fire:
Must I looke on a-cold, while others warme them?
Doe Vulcans brothers in such fine nets arme them?

Was it for this that I might Myra see
Washing the water with her beauties, white?
Yet would she neuer write her loue to me;
Thinks wit of change while thoughts are in delight?
Mad Girles must safely loue, as they may leaue,
No man can print a kisse, lines may deceiue.

Sonnet XXIII

[Merlin, they say, an English Prophet borne]

Merlin, they say, an English Prophet borne,
When he was yong and gouern'd by his Mother,
Took great delight to laugh such fooles to scorne,
As thought, by Nature we might know a Brother.

His Mother chid him oft, till on a day,
They stood, and saw a Coarse to buriall carried,
The Father teares his beard, doth weepe and pray;
The Mother was the woman he had married.

Merlin laughs out aloud in stead of crying;
His Mother chides him for that childish fashion;
Sayes, Men must mourne the dead, themselues are dying,
Good manners doth make answer vnto passion.

The Child (for children see what should be hidden)
Replies vnto his Mother by and by,
“Mother, if you did know, and were forbidden,
“Yet you would laugh as heartily, as I.

“This Man no part hath in the child he sorrowes,
“His Father was the Monke that sings before him:
“See then how Nature of Adoption borrowes,
“Truth couets in me, that I should restore him.
“True fathers singing, supposed fathers crying,
“I thinke make women laugh, that lye a-dying.

Sonnet XXIV

[Painting, the eloquence of dumbe conceipt]

Painting, the eloquence of dumbe conceipt,
When it would figure forth confused passion,
Hauing no tables for the Worlds receipt,
With few parts of a few, doth many fashion.
Who then would figure Worthinesse disgraced,
Nature and Wit imprisoned, or sterued,
Kindnesse a scorne, and Courtesie defaced,
If he doe well paint Want, hath well deserued.
But who, his Art in worlds of woe, would proue,
Let him within his heart but cipher Loue.

Sonnet XXV

[Cvpid, my pretty Boy, leaue off thy crying]

Cvpid, my pretty Boy, leaue off thy crying,
Thou shalt haue Bells or Apples; be not peeuish;
Kisse me sweet Lad; beshrew her for denying;
Such rude denyalls doe make children theeuish.

Did Reason say that Boyes must be restrained?
What was it, Tell: hath cruell Honour chidden?
Or would they haue thee from sweet Myra weyned?
Are her faire brests made dainty to be hidden?

Tell me (sweet Boy,) doth Myra's beauty threaten?
Must you say Grace when you would be a playing?
Doth she cause thee make faults, to make thee beaten?
Is Beauties pride in innocents betraying?
Giue me a Bow, let me thy Quiuer borrow,
And she shall play the child with loue, or sorrow.

Sonnet XXVI

[VVas euer Man so ouer-match't with Boy?]

VVas euer Man so ouer-match't with Boy?
When I am thinking how to keep him vnder,
He plaies and dallies me with euerie toy;
With pretty stealths, he makes me laugh and wonder.

When with the child, the child-thoughts of mine owne
Doe long to play and toy as well as he,
The Boy is sad, and melancholy growne,
And with one humor cannot long agree.

Straight doe I scorne and bid the child away
The Boy knowes furie, and soone sheweth me
Cælica's sweet eyes, where Loue and Beauty play,
Furie turnes into loue of that I see.
If these mad changes doe make children Gods,
Women, and children are not farre at odds.

Sonnet XXVII

[Cvpid, in Myra's faire bewitching eyes]

Cvpid, in Myra's faire bewitching eyes,
(Where Beauty shewes the miracles of pleasure)
When thou laist bound for honours sacrifice,
Sworne to thy hate, equalitie and measure.

With open hand thou offeredst me her heart,
Thy bow and arrowes, if I would conspire,
To ruine honour, with whose frozen Art
She tyranniz'd thy Kingdome of desire.

I glad to dwell, and raigne in such perfections,
Gaue thee my reason, memory, and sense,
In them to worke thy mysticall reflexions,
Against which Nature can haue no defence;
And wilt thou now to nourish my despaire;
Both head and feather all thy shafts with feare?

Sonnet XXVIII

[You faithlesse Boy, perswade you me to reason?]

You faithlesse Boy, perswade you me to reason?
With vertue doe you answere my affection?
Vertue, which you with liuerie and seisin
Haue sold and changed out of your protection.

When you lay flattering in sweet Myra's eyes,
And plaid the wanton both with worth, and pleasure,
In beauties field you told me vertue dies,
Excesse and infinite in loue, was measure.

I tooke your oath of dalliance and desire,
Myra did so inspire me with her graces,
But like a Wag that sets the straw on fire,
You running to doe harme in other places,
Sware what is felt with hand, or seene with eye,
As mortall, must feele sicknesse, age and dye.

Sonnet XXIX

[Faction, that euer dwells]

Faction, that euer dwells
In Courts where Wit excels,
Hath set defiance:
Fortune and Loue haue sworne,
That they were neuer borne,
Of one alliance.

Cupid, that doth aspire
To be God of desire,
Sweares he giues lawes:
That where his arrowes hit,
Some ioy, some sorrow it,
Fortune no cause.

Fortune sweares weakest hearts,
The books of Cupids arts,
Turne with her wheele:
Senses themselues shall proue,
Venture hath place in loue,
Ask them that feele.

This discord it begot
Atheists, that honour not
Nature, thought good;
Fortune should euer dwell
In Courts, where Wits excell:
Loue keepe the Wood.

Thus to the Wood went I
With Loue to liue and dye;
Fortune's forlorne:
Experience of my youth
Thus makes me thinke the truth
In desart borne.

My Saint is deare to me,
Myra her selfe is she,
She faire, and true:
Myra that knowes to moue,
Passions of loue with loue:
Fortune Adieu.

Sonnet XXX

[Rome, while thy Senate gouernours did choose]

Rome, while thy Senate gouernours did choose,
Your Souldiers florish'd, Citizens were free,
Thy State by Change of Consuls did not loose,
They honour'd were that seru'd or ruled thee:

But after thy proud Legions gave thee Lawes,
That their bought voices Empire did bestow,
Worthinesse no more was of election cause,
Authority her owners did not know.

Sweet Myra, while good will your friends did choose,
Passions were dainty, sweet desires free,
By one friend marriage did no honour loose,
They were esteem'd, that seru'd or ruled thee:

But after flattring Change did giue thee lawes,
That her false voices did thy faith bestow,
Worthinesse no more was of affection cause,
Desire did many heads like monsters show;
Thus Rome and Myra acting many parts,
By often changes lost commanding arts.

Sonnet XXXI

[Good-fellowes whom men commonly doe call]

Good-fellowes whom men commonly doe call,
Those that doe liue at warre with truth, & shame,
If once to loue of honesty they fall,
They both lose their Good-fellowes, and their name;

For theeues, whose riches rest in others wealth,
Whose rents are spoiles, and others thrift their gaine,
When they grow bankrupts in the Art of Stealth,
Booties to their old fellowes they remaine.

Cupid, thou free of these Good-Fellowes art:
For while Man cares not who, so he be one,
Thy Wings, thy Bow, thy Arrowes take his part,
He neither liues, nor loues, nor lyes alone;
But be he once to Hymens close yoke sworne,
Thou straight brau'st this Good-fellow with the horne.

Sonnet XXXII

[Heauens! see how bringing vp corrupts or betters]

Heauens! see how bringing vp corrupts or betters;
Cupid long prentice to his Mother bound,
Hath taken oath, onely to scape her fetters,
That he will still like to her selfe be found.

Which is faire in his Youth, in Old age painted,
Kind out of lust, and humble for his pleasure,
Not long agreeing with things well acquainted,
Couetous, yet prodigall of fame and treasure.

Now as they wrong themselues, that for it thunders
Blame skye, or ayre, wherein these tempests blow:
So doth he that at Womens changes wonders,
Since strange it should not be that all men know:
Therefore if Myra change as others doe,
Free her; but blame the Sonne, and Mother too.

Sonnet XXXIII

[Cvpid, thy folly bleares sweet Myra's eyes]

Cvpid, thy folly bleares sweet Myra's eyes,
For like the blind, that vpwards looke for light,
You fix those fatall starres on Fortunes skies,
As though such planets gaue not Fortune might.

Base Boy, what heart will doe him sacrifice,
That wraps repentance in his greatest pleasure?
And his true seruants vnder Fortune tyes,
As though his owne coyne were no currant treasure?

Must Danaes lap be wet with golden showers?
Or through the seas must buls Europa beare?
Must Leda onely serue the higher Powers?
Base changeling Boy, and wouldst thou haue me sweare,
The well-knowne secrets of Astolpho's cup,
Not to disclose, but with white wax seale up?

Sonnet XXXIV

[The Gods to shew they ioy not in offences]

The Gods to shew they ioy not in offences,
Nor plague of humane Nature doe desire,
When they haue made their rods and whipt our senses,
They throw the rods themselues into the fire.

Then Cupid, thou whom Man hath made a God,
Be like thy fellow Gods in weight and fashion,
And now my faults are punish'd, burne the rod
In fires blowne with many-headed passion.

Thy rod is Worth, in Myra's beauty plac'd,
Which like a Sunne hath power to burne another,
And though it selfe can no affections taste,
To be in all men else affections mother:
Therefore if thou wilt proue thy selfe a God,
In thy sweet fires, let me burne this faire rod.

Sonnet XXXV

[Cvpid, my little Boy, come home againe]

Cvpid, my little Boy, come home againe,
I doe not blame thee for thy running hence,
Where thou found'st nothing but desires paine,
Iealousie, with selfe-vnworthinesse, offence.

Alas, I cannot Sir, I am made lame,
I light no sooner in sweet Myra's eyes,
(Whence I thought ioy and pleasure tooke their name)
But my right wing of wanton passion dyes.

And I poore child am here in stead of play,
So whip'd and scourg'd with modestie and truth,
As hauing lost all hope to scape away,
I yet take pleasure to 'tice hither youth:
That my Schoole-fellowes plagu'd as well as I,
May not make merry, when they heare me cry.

Sonnet XXXVI

[Kings that in youth like all things else, are fine]

Kings that in youth like all things else, are fine,
Haue some who for their childish faults are beaten;
When more yeeres vnto greater vice incline,
Some, whom the world doth for their errors threaten:

So Cupid, you, who boast of Princes blood,
For Womens Princelike weakenesses are blamed,
And common errour, yet not vnderstood,
Makes you for their New-fanglenesse, defamed.

Poore Women sweare, they ignorant of harmes,
With gentle minds perchance take easie motions;
Sweet nature yeelding to the pleasing charmes
Of Mans false lust disguised with deuotion;
But which are worse, Kings ill, or easly led,
Schooles of this truth are yet not brought a-bed.

Sonnet XXXVII

[A Theefe, risen early vp to seeke his prey]

A Theefe, risen early vp to seeke his prey,
Spieth a pretty Boy, whereas he lay,
Crying fast by a well:
He wills him why to tell,
And sweares to make him well, if that he may.

The pretty Boy smileth, and thanketh the man,
Told him, that he hath falne his Fathers Canne,
All of Gold in the deepe,
Which losse did make him weepe;
Prayeth him counsell keepe; helpe if he can.

The Man not for conscience, but onely for hope,
Puts off his clothes, goes downe by the rope,
Meaning to haue the Cup,
If he can get it vp;
He spills that steales a sup; hast loseth hope.

For while in the water the false fellow sought,
The pretty Boy steales his cloke, well was he taught:
Wet comes the fellow vp,
He cannot find the Cup;
His cloke is taken vp; falshood is naught.

Little lad Cupid, by night and by day,
Wonted in beauties face wanton to play,
Fast bound and prison'd lyes,
In Myra's stealing eyes,
Woefully whence he cries, to runne away.

I asked the Boy, the Boy telleth his case,
He saith, that Vertue seeks Beauties disgrace,
Vertue that grieues to find,
With what an humble minde,
Men are to Beautie kinde, and her deface.

Vertue thinks all this is long of my bow,
Which hiding her Beauties doe counterfeits show,
And Beautie Vertues arme,
With such a modest charme,
As my shafts doe no harme: she can say, No.

I that was wont to make wisdome a toy,
Vertue a pastime, am now made a boy,
I am throwne from the heart,
Banish'd is Passions art,
Neither may I depart, nor yet enioy.

This was the cause, he said, made him complaine,
He sweares, if I help him, to help me againe;
And straightwayes offers me,
If Vertue conquer'd be,
Beauty and Pleasure free; Ioy without paine.

I glad, not for pittie, but hope of the prize,
And proud of this language from Cælica's eyes,
Threw off my liberty,
Hoping that blessed I,
Shall with sweet Cupid flye, in Beauties skyes.

But when in my heart I had peeced his bow,
And on the ayre of my thoughts made his wings goe,
The little Lad feares the rod,
He is not there a God,
I and delight are odd: Myra sayes, No.

The Flint keepeth fire, the Lad he sayes true,
But bellowes it will not be kindled by you;
He that takes starres with staues,
Yet hath not all he craues;
Loue is not his that raues: hope is vntrue.

Sonnet XXXVIII

[Cælica, I ouernight was finely vsed]

Cælica, I ouernight was finely vsed,
Lodg'd in the midst of paradise, your Heart:
Kind thoughts had charge I might not be refused,
Of euery fruit and flower I had part.

But curious Knowledge, blowne with busie flame,
The sweetest fruits had downe in shadowes hidden,
And for it found mine eyes had seene the same,
I from my paradise was straight forbidden.

Where that Curre, Rumor, runnes in euery place,
Barking with Care, begotten out of feare;
And glassy Honour, tender of Disgrace,
Stands Ceraphin to see I come not there;
While that fine soyle, which all these ioyes did yeeld,
By broken fence is prou'd a common field.

Sonnet XXXIX

[The pride of Flesh by reach of humane wit]

The pride of Flesh by reach of humane wit,
Did purpose once to ouer-reach the skye;
And where before God drown'd the world for it,
Yet Babylon it built vp, not to dye.

God knew these fooles how foolishly they wrought,
That Destiny with Policie would breake,
Straight none could tell his fellow what he thought,
Their tongues were chang'd, & men not taught to speake:

So I that heauenly peace would comprehend,
In mortall seat of Cælica's faire heart,
To babylon my selfe there, did intend,
With naturall kindnesse, and with passions art:
But when I thought my selfe of her selfe free,
All's chang'd: she vnderstands all men but me.

Sonnet XL

[The nurse-life Wheat within his greene huske growing]

The nurse-life Wheat within his greene huske growing,
Flatters our hope and tickles our desire,
Natures true riches in sweet beauties shewing,
Which set all hearts, with labours loue, on fire.

No lesse faire is the Wheat when golden eare
Showes vnto hope the ioyes of neare enioying:
Faire and sweet is the bud, more sweet and faire
The Rose, which proues that time is not destroying.

Cælica, your youth, the morning of delight,
Enamel'd o're with beauties white and red,
All sense and thoughts did to beleefe inuite,
That Loue and Glorie there are brought to bed;
And your ripe yeeres loue-noone (he goes no higher)
Turnes all the spirits of Man into desire.

Sonnet XLI

[Alas poore soule, thinke you to master Loue]

Alas poore soule, thinke you to master Loue,
With constant faith; doe you hope true deuotion
Can stay that God-head, which liues but to moue,
And turne mens hearts, like Vanes, with outward motion.

No; proud Desire thou run'st Misfortunes way,
Loue is to hers, like Vessells made of glasse;
Delightfull while they do not fall away;
But broken, neuer brought to that it was.

When Honours Audit cals for thy receipt,
And chargeth on thy head much time mispent;
Nature corrupted by thy vaine conceipt,
Thy Reason seruile, poore, and passion-rent.

What shall be thy excuse, what canst thou say?
That thou hast erred out of Loue and wonder?
No hereticke, thou Cupid dost betray
And with religion wouldst bring Princes vnder;

By merit banish Chance from Beauties sky,
Set other lawes in Womens hearts, than will;
Cut Changes wings, that she no more may flye,
Hoping to make that constant, which is ill;
Therefore the doome is, wherein thou must rest,
Myra that scornes thee, shall loue many best.

Sonnet XLII

[Pelius, that loth was Thetis to forsake]

Pelius, that loth was Thetis to forsake,
Had counsell from the Gods to hold her fast,
Fore-warn'd what lothsome likenesse she would take,
Yet, if he held, come to her selfe at last.
He held; the snakes, the serpents and the fire,
No monsters prou'd, but trauells of desire.

When I beheld how Cælica's faire eyes,
Did shew her heart to some, her wit to me;
Change, that doth proue the error is not wise,
In her mis-shape made me strange visions see,
Desire held fast, till Loues vnconstant zone,
Like Gorgon's head transform'd her heart to stone.

From stone she turnes againe into a cloud,
Where water still had more power than the fire,
And I poore Ixion to my Iuno vowed,
With thoughts to clip her, clipt my owne desire:
For she was vanisht, I held nothing fast,
But woes to come, and ioyes already past.

This Cloud straight makes a stream, in whose smooth face,
While I the Image of my selfe did glasse,
Thought Shadowes I, for beautie did embrace,
Till streame and all except the cold did passe;
Yet faith held fast, like foyles where stones be set,
To make toyes deare, and fooles more fond to get.

Thus our desires besides each inward throw,
Must passe the outward toyles of Chance, and Feare,
Against the streames of reall truthes they goe,
With hope alone to ballance all they beare,
Spending the wealth of nature in such fashion,
As good and ill lucke, equally breeds passion.

Thus our Delights, like faire shapes in a glasse,
Though pleasing to our senses, cannot last,
The metall breaks, or else the Visions passe,
Onely our griefes in constant moulds are cast:
Ile hold no more, false Cælica, liue free;
Seeme faire to all the world, and foule to me.

Sonnet XLIII

[Cælica, when you looke downe into your heart]

Cælica, when you looke downe into your heart,
And see what wrongs my faith endureth there,
Hearing the groanes of true loue, loth to part,
You thinke they witnesse of your changes beare.

And as the Man that by ill Neighbours dwells,
Whose curious eyes discerne those works of shame,
Which busie Rumour to the people tells,
Suffers for seeing those darke springs of fame.

So I because I cannot choose but know,
How constantly you haue forgotten me,
Because my Faith doth like the Sea-marks show,
And tell the strangers where the dangers be,
I, like the child, whom Nurse hath ouerthrowne,
Not crying, yet am whipt, if you be knowne.

Sonnet XLIV

[The Golden-Age was when the world was yong]

The Golden-Age was when the world was yong,
Nature so rich, as Earth did need no sowing,
Malice not knowne, the Serpents had not stung,
Wit was but sweet Affections ouerflowing.

Desire was free, and Beauties first-begotten;
Beauty then neither net, nor made by art,
Words out of thoughts brought forth, and not forgotten,
The Lawes were inward that did rule the heart.

The Brasen Age is now when Earth is worne,
Beauty growne sicke, Nature corrupt and nought,
Pleasure vntimely dead as soone as borne,
Both words and kindnesse strangers to our thought:

If now this changing World doe change her head,
Cælica, what haue her new Lords for to boast?
The old Lord knowes Desire is poorely fed,
And sorrowes not a wauering prouince lost,
Since in the guilt-Age Saturne rul'd alone,
And in this painted, Planets euery one.

Sonnet XLV

[Absence, the noble truce]

Absence, the noble truce
Of Cupids warre:
Where though desires want vse,
They honoured are.
Thou art the iust protection,
Of prodigall affection,
Haue thou the praise;
When bankrupt Cupid braueth,
Thy mines his credit saueth,
With sweet delayes.

Of wounds which presence makes
With Beauties shot,
Absence the anguish slakes,
But healeth not:

100

Absence records the Stories,
Wherein Desire glories,
Although she burne;
She cherisheth the spirits
Where Constancy inherits
And passions mourne.

Absence, like dainty Clouds,
On glorious-bright,
Natures weake senses shrowds,
From harming light.
Absence maintaines the treasure
Of pleasure vnto pleasure,
Sparing with praise;
Absence doth nurse the fire,
Which starues and feeds desire
With sweet delayes.

Presence to euery part
Of Beauty tyes,
Where Wonder rules the Heart
There Pleasure dyes:
Presence plagues minde and senses
With modesties defences,
Absence is free:
Thoughts doe in absence venter
On Cupids shadowed center,
They winke and see.

But Thoughts be not so braue,
With absent ioy;
For you with that you haue
Your selfe destroy:
The absence which you glory,
Is that which makes you sory,
And burne in vaine:
For Thought is not the weapon,
Wherewith thoughts-ease men cheapen,
Absence is paine.

101

Sonnet XLVI

[Patience, weake fortun'd, and weake minded Wit]

Patience, weake fortun'd, and weake minded Wit,
Perswade you me to ioy, when I am banish'd?
Why preach you time to come, and ioyes with it,
Since time already come, my ioyes hath vanish'd?

Giue me sweet Cynthia, with my wonted blisse,
Disperse the clouds that coffer vp my treasure,
Awake Endymion, with Diana's kisse,
And then sweet Patience, counsell me to measure.

But while my Loue feeles nothing but correction
While carelessnesse o'reshadowes my deuotion,
While Myra's beams shew riuall-like reflection,
The life of Patience then must be commotion;
Since not to feele what wrong I beare in this,
A senselesse state, and no true Patience is.

Sonnet XLVII

[Atlas vpon his shoulders bare the skye]

Atlas vpon his shoulders bare the skye,
The loade was heauy, but the loade was faire:
His sense was rauish'd with the melodie,
Made from the motion of the highest sphere.

Not Atlas I, Nor did I heauen beare,
Cælica, 'tis true, once on my shoulder sate,
Her eyes more rich by many characts were
Than Starres or Planets, which men wonder at:
Atlas bare heauen, such burdens be of grace,
Cælica in heauen, is the Angels place.

Sonnet XLVIII

[Mankinde, whose liues from houre to houre decay]

Mankinde, whose liues from houre to houre decay,
Lest sudden change himselfe should make him feare
For if his blacke head instantly waxt gray,
Doe you not thinke man would himselfe forsweare?

102

Cælica, who ouernight spake, with her eyes
“My Loue complaines, that it can loue no more,”
Shewing me shame, that languisheth and dyes,
Tyrannis'd by loue, it tyrannis'd before;
If on the next day Cynthia change and leaue,
Would you trust your eyes, since her eyes deceaue?

Sonnet XLIX

[Princes, who haue (they say) no minde, but thought]

Princes, who haue (they say) no minde, but thought,
Whose vertue is their Pleasure, and their end,
That kindnes, which in their hearts neuer wrought,
They like in others, and will praise a Friend.

Cupid, who, People say, is bold with blindnesse,
Free of excesse, and enemy to measure,
Yet glories in the reuerence of kindnesse,
In silent-trembling eloquence hath pleasure.

Princes wee comprehend, and can delight,
We praise them for the good they neuer had;
But Cupids wayes are farre more infinite,
Kisses at times, and curt'sies make him glad:
Then Myra giue me leaue for Cupids sake,
To kisse thee oft, that I may curt'sie make.

Sonnet L

[Scoggin his wife by chance mistooke her bed]

Scoggin his wife by chance mistooke her bed;
Such chances oft befall poore Women-kind,
Alas poore soules, for when they misse their head,
What maruell it is, though the rest be blind?

This bed it was a Lords bed where she light,
Who nobly pittying this poore Womans hap,
Gaue almes both to releeue, and to delight,
And made the Golden shower fall on her lap.

103

Then in a freedome askes her as they lay,
Whose were her lips and breasts: and she sware, His:
For hearts are open when thoughts fall to play.
At last he askes her, Whose her backside is?
She vow'd that it was Scoggins onely part,
Who neuer yet came neerer to her heart.

Scoggin o're-heard; but taught by common vse,
“That he who sees all those which doe him harme,
Or will in marriage boast such small abuse,
Shall neuer haue his Night-gowne furred warme:
And was content, since all was done in play,
To know his lucke, and beare his Armes away.

Yet when his Wife should to the market goe,
Her breast and bellie he in cauasse drest,
And on her backe-side fine silke did bestow,
Ioying to see it brauer than the rest.

His Neighbours askt him, Why? and Scoggin sware,
That part of all his Wife was onely his:
The Lord should decke the rest, to whom they are,
For he knew not what Lordly-fashion is.
If Husbands now should onely decke their owne,
Silke would make many by their backs be knowne.

Sonnet LI

[Cælica, because we now in absence liue]

Cælica, because we now in absence liue,
Which liu'd so long in free-borne loue at one,
Straight curious Rumour doth her censure giue,
That our Aspects are to another Zone.

Yet Cælica, you know I doe not change,
My heart beares witnesse that there is no cause,
Authority may bid Good-will be strange,
But True desire is subiect to no lawes:
If I haue spoken to the common sense,
It Enuy kills, and is a wise Offence.

104

Sonnet LII

[Away with these selfe-louing Lads]

Away with these selfe-louing Lads,
Whom Cupids arrow neuer glads:
Away poore soules, that sigh and weep,
In loue of those that lye asleepe:
For Cupid is a meadow-God,
And forceth none to kisse the rod.

Sweet Cupids shafts like Destinie
Doe causelesse good or ill decree;
Desert is borne out of his bow,
Reward vpon his wing doth goe;
What fooles are they that haue not knowne,
That Loue likes no Lawes but his owne.

My songs they be of Cynthia's praise,
I weare her Rings on Holy dayes,
In euery Tree I write her name,
And euery Day I read the same.
Where Honour Cupids riuall is
There miracles are seene of his.

If Cynthia craue her Ring of me,
I blot her name out of the Tree,
If doubt doe darken things held deare,
Then well-fare Nothing once a yeare
For many runne, but one must winne,
Fooles only hedge the Cuckoe in.

The worth that worthinesse should moue,
Is Loue, that is the bow of loue,
And Loue as well thee foster can,
As can the mighty Noble-man.
Sweet Saint 'tis true, you worthy be,
Yet without Loue nought worth to me.

Sonnet LIII

[Bvt that familiar things are neuer wonder]

Bvt that familiar things are neuer wonder,
What greater beauty than the heauens glories?
Where Phœbus shines, and when he is gone vnder,
Leaueth in fairest starres mans fatall stories;
Yet Venus choose with Mars the netty bed,
Before that heauenly-life, which Vulcan led.

Who doth intreate the Winter not to raine,
Or in a storme the wind to leaue his blowing?
Ladies, shew you how Iuno did complaine,
Of Iupiter vnto Europa going.
Faire Nymphs, if I wooe Cynthia not to leaue me,
You know 'tis I my selfe, not she deceaues me.

Masters that aske their Schollers leaue to beat them,
Husbands that bid their Wiues tell all they know,
Men that giue Children sweet meates not to eate them,
Ladies, you see what destinie they goe:
And who intreats, you know intreats in vaine,
That Loue be constant, or come backe againe.

Sonnet LIV

[Light Rage and Griefe, limmes of vnperfect loue]

Light Rage and Griefe, limmes of vnperfect loue,
By ouer-acting euer lose their ends;
For Griefe while it would good affection moue,
With self-affliction doth deface her friends;
Putting on poore weake Pitties pale reflexion,
Whereas Good-will is stirr'd with good complexion.

Rage againe fond of her inflam'd desire,
Desire which conquers best by close inuasion,
Forgetting light and heat liue in one fire,
So ouerblowes the temper of Occasion,
That scorch'd with heate, by light discouered,
Vntimely borne is, and vntimely dead.

106

Poore fooles, why striue you then since all hearts feele
That idle Chance so gouernes in affection,
As Cupid cannot turne his fatall wheele,
Nor in his owne orbe banish her election?
Then teach Desire hope; not rage, feare, griefe,
Powers as vnapt to take, as giue reliefe.

Sonnet LV

[Cynthia, because your Hornes looke diuerse wayes]

Cynthia, because your Hornes looke diuerse wayes,
Now darkned to the East, now to the West;
Then at Full-glorie once in thirty dayes,
Sense doth beleeue that Change is Natures rest.

Poore earth, that dare presume to iudge the skye;
Cynthia is euer round, and neuer varies,
Shadowes and distance doe abuse the eye,
And in abused sense truth oft miscarries:
Yet who this language to the People speaks,
Opinions empire senses idoll breaks.

Sonnet LVI

[All my senses, like Beacons flame]

All my senses, like Beacons flame,
Gaue Alarum to desire
To take armes in Cynthia's name,
And set all my thoughts on fire:
Furies wit perswaded me,
Happy loue was hazards heire,
Cupid did best shoot and see
In the night where smooth is faire;
Vp I start beleeuing well
To see if Cynthia were awake;
Wonders I saw, who can tell?
And thus vnto my selfe I spake;
Sweet God Cupid where am I,
That by pale Diana's light:
Such rich beauties doe espie,
As harme our senses with delight?

107

Am I borne vp to the skyes?
See where Ioue and Venus shine,
Shewing in her heauenly eyes
That desire is diuine:
Looke where lyes the Milken way,
Way vnto that dainty throne,
Where while all the Gods would play,
Vulcan thinkes to dwell alone.
I gaue reynes to this conceipt,
Hope went on the wheele of lust:
Phansies scales are false of weight,
Thoughts take thought that goe of trust,
I stept forth to touch the skye,
I a God by Cupid dreames,
Cynthia who did naked lye,
Runnes away like siluer streames;
Leauing hollow banks behind,
Who can neither forward moue,
Nor if riuers be vnkind,
Turne away or leaue to loue.
There stand I, like Articke pole,
Where Sol passeth o're the line,
Mourning my benighted soule,
Which so loseth light diuine.
There stand I like Men that preach
From the Execution place,
At their death content to teach
All the world with their disgrace:
He that lets his Cynthia lye,
Naked on a bed of play,
To say prayers ere she dye,
Teacheth time to runne away:
Let no Loue-desiring heart,
In the Starres goe seeke his fate,
Loue is onely Natures art,
Wonder hinders Loue and Hate.
None can well behold with eyes,
But what vnderneath him lies.

108

Sonnet LVII

[Cælica, you blame me that I suffer not]

Cælica, you blame me that I suffer not
Absence with ioy, Authority with ease:
Cælica, what Powers can Natures inside blot?
They must looke pale without that feele disease.

You say that you doe like faire Tagus streames,
Swell ouer those that would your channells choake;
Yeelding due tribute vnto Phœbus beams,
Yet not made dry with losse of Vapours smoke.

Cælica, 'tis true, Birds that doe swimme and flye,
The waters can endure to haue and misse:
Their feet for seas, their wings are for the skie,
Nor errour is it, that of Nature is.
I like the fish bequeath'd to Neptunes bed,
No sooner tast of ayre, but I am dead.

Sonnet LVIII

[The tree in youth proud of his leaues, and springs]

The tree in youth proud of his leaues, and springs,
His body shadowed in his glorie layes;
For none doe flie with Art, or others wings,
But they in whom all, saue Desire, decayes;
Againe in age, when no leaues on them grow,
Then borrow they their greene of Misseltoe.

Where Cælica, when she was young and sweet,
Adorn'd her head with golden borrowed haire,
To hide her owne for cold; she thinkes it meet
The head should mourne, that all the rest was faire;
And now in Age when outward things decay,
In spite of age, she throwes that haire away.

Those golden haires she then vs'd but to tye
Poore captiu'd soules which she in triumph led,
Who not content the Sunnes faire light to eye,
Within his glory their sense dazeled:
And now againe, her owne blacke haire puts on,
To mourne for thoughts by her worths ouerthrowne.

109

Sonnet LIX

[Who euer sailes neere to Bermuda coast]

Who euer sailes neere to Bermuda coast,
Goes hard aboord the Monarchy of Feare,
Where all desires (but Lifes desire) are lost,
For wealth and fame put off their glories there.

Yet this Ile poyson-like, by mischiefe knowne,
Weanes not desire from her sweet nurse, the Sea;
But vnseene showes vs where our hopes be sowne,
With woefull signes declaring ioyfull way.
For who will seeke the wealth of Westerne Sunne,
Oft by Bermuda's miseries must runne.

Who seeks the God of Loue, in Beauties skye,
Must passe the Empire of confused Passion,
Where our desires to all but Horrors die,
Before that ioy and peace can take their fashion.

Yet this faire Heauen that yeelds this Soule-despaire,
Weanes not the heart from his sweet God, Affection;
But rather shewes vs what sweet ioyes are there,
Where constancy is seruant to perfection.
Who Cælica's chast heart then seeks to moue,
Must ioy to suffer all the woes of Loue.

Sonnet LX

[Cælica, you said, I doe obscurely liue]

Cælica, you said, I doe obscurely liue,
Strange to my friends, with strangers in suspect,
(For darkenesse doth suspition euer giue,
Of hate to men or too much selfe-respect)
Fame you doe say, with many wings doth flye,
Who leaues himselfe, you say, doth liuing dye.

Cælica, 'tis true, I doe in darkenesse goe,
Honour I seeke not, nor hunt after Fame:
I am thought bound, I doe not long to know,
I feele within, what men without me blame:
I scorne the world, the world scornes me, 'tis true;
What can a heart doe more to honour you?

110

Knowledge and fame in open hearts doe liue,
Honour is pure hearts homage vnto these,
Affection all men vnto Beauty giue,
And by that Law enioyned are to please:
The world in two I haue diuided fit;
My selfe to you, and all the rest to it.

Sonnet LXI

[Cælica, while you doe sweare you loue me best]

Cælica, while you doe sweare you loue me best,
And euer loued onely me,
I feele that all powers are opprest
By Loue, and Loue by Destinie.

For as the child in swadling-bands,
When it doth see the Nurse come nigh,
With smiles and crowes doth lift the hands,
Yet still must in the cradle lie:
So in the boate of Fate I rowe,
And looking to you, from you goe.

When I see in thy once-beloued browes,
The heauy marks of constant loue,
I call to minde my broken vowes,
And child-like to the Nurse would moue;

But Loue is of the Phœnix-kind,
And burnes it selfe, in selfe-made fire,
To breed still new birds in the minde,
From ashes of the old desire:
And hath his wings from constancy,
As mountaines call'd of mouing be.

Then Cælica lose not heart-eloquence,
Loue vnderstands not, come againe:
Who changes in her owne defence,
Needs not cry to the deafe in vaine.

111

Loue is no true made Looking-glasse,
Which perfect yeelds the shape we bring,
It vgly showes vs all that was,
And flatters euery future thing.
When Phœbus beames no more appeare,
Tis darker that the day was here.

Change I confesse it is a hatefull power,
To them that all at once must thinke,
Yet Nature made both sweet and sower,
She gaue the eye a lid to winke:

And though the Youth that are estrang'd
From Mothers lap to other skyes,
Doe thinke that Nature there is chang'd
Because at home their knowledge lyes;
Yet shall they see who farre haue gone,
That Pleasure speaks more tongues than one.

The Leaues fall off, when Sap goes to the root,
The warmth doth clothe the bough againe;
But to the dead tree what doth boot,
The silly mans manuring paine?

Vnkindnesse may peece vp againe,
But kindnesse either chang'd or dead,
Selfe-pittie may in fooles complaine;
Put thou thy Hornes on others head:
For constant faith is made a drudge,
But when requiting loue is iudge.

Sonnet LXII

[VVho worships Cupid, doth adore a boy]

VVho worships Cupid, doth adore a boy,
Boyes earnest are at first in their delight,
But for a new, soone leaue their dearest toy,
And out of minde, as soone as out of sight,
Their ioyes be dallyings and their wealth is play,
They cry to haue, and cry to cast away.

112

Mars is an Idoll, and Mans lust, his skye;
Whereby his glories still are full of wounds,
Who worship him, their fame goes farre and nigh,
But still of ruine and distresse it sounds.
Yet cannot all be wonne, and who doth liue,
Must roome to neighbours and succession giue.

Those Mercurists that vpon humors worke,
And so make others skill, and power their owne,
Are like the Climats, which farre Northward lurke,
And through long Winters must reape what is sowne;
Or like the Masons, whose Art building well,
Yet leaues the house for other men to dwell.

Mercurie, Cupid, Mars, they be no Gods,
But humane Idols, built vp by desire,
Fruit of our boughs, whence heauen maketh rods,
And babyes too for child-thoughts that aspire:
Who sees their glories, on the earth must prye;
Who seeks true glory must looke to the skye.

Sonnet LXIII

[The greatest pride of humane kind is Wit]

The greatest pride of humane kind is Wit,
Which all Art out, and into methode drawes;
Yet Infinite, is farre exceeding it,
And so is Chance, of vnknowne things the cause,
The feet of men against our feet doe moue,
No wit can comprehend the wayes of Loue.

He that direct on parallels doth saile,
Goes Eastward out, and Eastward doth returne;
The shadowed man, whom Phœbus light doth faile,
Is blacke like him, his heat doth ouerburne;
The wheeles of high desire with force doe moue,
Nothing can fall amisse to them that loue.

113

Vapours of earth which to the Sunne aspire,
As Natures tribute vnto heate or light,
Are frozen in the midst of high desire,
And melted in sweet beames of selfe-delight,
And who to flye with Cupids wings will proue,
Must not bewaile these many ayres of Loue.

Men that doe vse the Compasse of the Sea,
And see the Needle euer Northward looke,
Some doe the vertue in the Loadstone lay,
Some say, the stone it from the North-starre tooke,
And let him know that thinks with faith to moue,
They once had eyes, that are made blind by loue.

Sonnet LXIV

[Cælica, when I did see you euery day]

Cælica, when I did see you euery day,
I saw so many worths so well vnited,
As in this vnion while but one did play,
All others eyes both wondred and delighted:

Whence I conceau'd you of some heauenly mould,
Since Loue, and Vertue, noble Fame and Pleasure,
Containe in one no earthly metall could,
Such enemies are flesh, and blood to measure.

And since my fall, though I now onely see
Your backe, while all the world beholds your face,
This shadow still shewes miracles to me,
And still I thinke your heart a heauenly place:
For what before was fill'd by me alone,
I now discerne hath roome for euery one.

Sonnet LXV

[Cælica, when I was from your presence bound]

Cælica, when I was from your presence bound,
At first good-will both sorrow'd and repined,
Loue, Faith, and Nature felt restraint a wound,
Honour it selfe, to Kindnesse yet inclined;

114

Your vowes one way, with your desires did goe,
Selfe-pittie then in your did pittie me,
Yea sex did scorne to be imprisoned so,
But fire goes out for lacke of vent, we see.

For when with time, Desire had made a truce,
I onely was exempt, the world left free,
Yet what winne you by bringing change in vse,
But to make currant Infidelity?
Cælica, you say, you loue me, but you feare,
Then hide me in your heart, and keep me there.

Sonnet LXVI

[Cælica, you (whose requests commandments be)]

Cælica, you (whose requests commandments be)
Aduise me to delight my minde with books,
The Glasse where Art doth to posterity,
Shew nature naked vnto him that looks,
Enriching vs, shortning the wayes of wit,
Which with experience else deare buyeth it.

Cælica, if I obey not, but dispute,
Thinke it is darkenesse, which seeks out a light,
And to presumption do not it impute,
If I forsake this way of Infinite;
Books be of men, men but in clouds doe see,
Of whose embracements Centaures gotten be.

I haue for books, aboue my head the Skyes,
Vnder me, Earth; about me Ayre and Sea:
The Truth for light, and Reason for mine eyes,
Honour for guide, and Nature for my way.
With change of times, lawes, humors, manners, right;
Each in their diuerse workings infinite.

Which powers from that wee feele, conceiue, or doe,
Raise in our senses thorough ioy, or smarts,
All formes, the good or ill can bring vs to,
More liuely farre, than can dead Books or Arts;
Which at the second hand deliuer forth,
Of few mens heads, strange rules for all mens worth.

115

False Antidotes for vitious ignorance,
Whose causes are within, and so their cure,
Errour corrupting Nature, not Mischance,
For how can that be wise which is not pure?
So that Man being but mere hypocrisie,
What can his arts but beames of follie be?

Let him then first set straight his inward sprite,
That his Affections in the seruing roomes,
May follow Reason, not confound her light,
And make her subiect to inferiour doomes;
For till the inward moulds be truly plac'd,
All is made crooked that in them we cast.

But when the heart, eyes light grow pure together,
And so vice in the way to be forgot,
Which threw man from creation, who knowes whither?
Then this strange building which the flesh knowes not,
Reuiues a new-form'd image in mans minde,
Where Arts reueal'd, are miracles defin'd.

What then need halfe-fast helps of erring wit,
Methods, or books of vaine humanity?
Which dazell truth, by representing it,
And so entayle clouds to posterity.
Since outward wisdome springs from truth within,
Which all men feele, or heare, before they sinne.

Sonnet LXVII

[Vnconstant thoughts where light desires do moue]

Vnconstant thoughts where light desires do moue,
With euery obiect which sense to them showes,
Still ebbing from themselues to Seas of Loue,
Like ill led Kings that conquer but to lose,
With blood and paine these dearely purchase shame,
Time blotting all things out, but euill name.

116

The double heart that loueth it selfe best,
Yet can make selfe-loue beare the name of friend,
Whose kindnesse onely in his wit doth rest,
And can be all but truth, to haue his end,
Must one desire in many figures cast;
Dissemblings then are knowne when they are past.

The heart of man mis-seeking for the best,
Oft doubly or vnconstantly must blot,
Betweene these two the misconceipt doth rest,
Whether it euer were that lasteth not,
Vnconstancy and doublenesse depart,
When man bends his desires to mend his heart.

Sonnet LXVIII

[While that my heart an Altar I did make]

While that my heart an Altar I did make,
To sacrifice desire and faith to loue,
The little Boy his Temples did forsake,
And would for me no bow nor arrow moue.
Dewes of disgrace my incense did depresse:
That heat went in, the heart burnt not the lesse.

And as the man that sees his house opprest
With fire; and part of his goods made a prey,
Yet doth pull downe the roofe to saue the rest,
Till his losse giue him light to runne away:
So when I saw the bell on other sheep,
I hid my selfe, but dreames vex them that sleep.

My exile was not like the barren tree,
Which beares his fruitlesse head vp to the skye,
But like the trees whose boughs o'reloaden be,
And with selfe-riches bowed downe to die;
When in the night with songs, not cries, I moane,
Lest more should heare what I complaine of one.

117

Sonnet LXIX

[When all this All doth passe from age to age]

When all this All doth passe from age to age,
And reuolution in a circle turne,
Then heauenly Iustice doth appeare like rage,
The Caues doe roare, the very Seas doe burne,
Glory growes darke, the Sunne becomes a night,
And makes this great world feele a greater might.

When Loue doth change his seat from heart to heart,
And worth about the wheele of Fortune goes,
Grace is diseas'd, desert seemes ouerthwart,
Vowes are forlorne, and truth doth credit lose,
Chance then giues Law, Desire must be wise,
And looke more wayes than one, or lose her eyes.

My age of ioy is past, of woe begunne,
Absence my presence is, strangenesse my grace,
With them that walke against me, is my Sunne:
The wheele is turn'd, I hold the lowest place,
What can be good to me since my loue is,
To doe me harme, content to doe amisse?

Sonnet LXX

[Cvpid did pine, Venus that lou'd her sonne]

Cvpid did pine, Venus that lou'd her sonne,
Or lackt her sport, did looke with heauy heart:
The Gods are cal'd, a Councell is begunne,
Delphos is sought, and Æsculapius art.

Apollo saith, Loue is a Relatiue,
Whose being onely must in others be;
As bodies doe their shadowes keepe aliue,
So Eros must with Anteros agree;
They found him out a mate with whom to play,
Loue straight enioy'd, and pin'd no more away.

118

Cælica, this image figures forth my heart,
Where Venus mournes, and Cupid prospers not,
For this is my affections ouerthwart,
That I remember what you haue forgot;
And while in you my selfe I seeke to find,
I see that you your selfe haue lost your minde.

When I would ioy, as I was wont to doe,
Your thoughts are chang'd, and not the same to me;
My loue that lacks her play-fellow in you,
Seeks vp and downe, but blinded cannot see.
The Boy hath stolne your thoughts some other way,
Where wantonlike they doe with many play.

Sonnet LXXI

[Loue; I did send you forth enamel'd faire]

Loue; I did send you forth enamel'd faire
With hope, and gaue you seisin and liuery
Of Beauties skye, which you did claime as heyre,
By obiects and desires affinitie.

And doe you now returne leane with Despaire?
Wounded with Riualls warre, scorched with Iealousie?
Hence Changeling; Loue doth no such colours weare:
Find sureties, or at Honours sessions dye.

Sir, know me for your owne, I onely beare,
Faiths ensigne, which is Shame, and Miserie;
My Paradise, and Adams diuerse were:
His fall was Knowledge, mine Simplicitie.

What shall I doe, Sir? doe me Prentice bind,
To Knowledge, Honour, Fame or Honestie;
Let me no longer follow Womenkinde,
Where change doth vse all shapes of tyranny;
And I no more will stirre this earthly dust,
Wherein I lose my name, to take on lust.

119

Sonnet LXXII

[Cælica, you that excell in flesh and wit]

Cælica, you that excell in flesh and wit,
In whose sweet heart Loue doth both ebb and flow
Returning faith more than it tooke from it,
Whence doth the Change, the World thus speakes on, grow?

If Worthinesse doe ioy to be admired,
My soule, you know, onely be-wonders you;
If Beauties glorie be to be desired,
My heart is nothing else; What need you new?

If louing ioy of worths beloued be,
And ioyes not simple, but still mutuall,
Whom can you more loue, than you haue lou'd me?
Vnlesse in your heart there be more than all;
Since Loue no doomes-day hath, where bodies change,
Why should new be delight, not being strange?

Sonnet LXXIII

[Myraphill, 'tis true, I lou'd, and you lou'd me]

Myraphill, 'tis true, I lou'd, and you lou'd me,
My thoughts as narrow as my heart, then were;
Which made change seeme impossible to be,
Thinking one place could not two bodies beare.
This was but earnest Youths simplicitie,
To fadome Nature within Passions wit,
Which thinks her earnestnesse eternity,
Till selfe-delight makes change looke thorough it:
You banish'd were, I grieu'd, but languish'd not,
For worth was free and of affection sure;
So that time must be vaine, or you forgot,
Nature and Loue, no Vacuum can endure;
I found desert, and to desert am true;
Still dealing by it, as I dealt by you.

120

Sonnet LXXIV

[In the window of a Graunge]

In the window of a Graunge,
Whence mens prospects cannot range
Ouer groues, and flowers growing,
Natures wealth, and pleasure showing;
But on graues where shepheards lye,
That by loue or sicknesse die;
In that window saw I sit,
Cælica adorning it,
Sadly clad for sorrowes glory,
Making ioy glad to be sorie:
Shewing Sorrow in such fashion,
As Truth seem'd in loue with Passion,
Such a sweet enamell giueth
Loue restrain'd, that constant liueth.
Absence, that bred all this paine,
Presence heal'd not straight againe;
Eyes from darke to suddaine light,
See not straight, nor can delight.
Where the heart reuiues from death,
Grones doe first send forth a breath:
So, first looks did looks beget,
One sigh did another fet,
Hearts within their breast did quake,
While thoughts to each other spake.
Philocell entraunced stood,
Rackt, and ioyed with his good,
His eyes on her eyes were fixed,
Where both true Loue and Shame were mixed:
In her eyes he pittie saw,
His Loue did to Pittie draw:
But Loue found when it came there,
Pitty was transform'd to Feare:
Then he thought that in her face,
He saw Loue, and promis'd Grace.
Loue calls his Loue to appeare,
But as soone as it came neere,

121

Her Loue to her bosome fled,
Vnder Honours burthens dead.
Honour in Loues stead tooke place,
To grace Shame, with Loues disgrace;
But like drops throwne on the fire,
Shames restraints, enflam'd Desire:
Desire looks, and in her eyes,
The image of it selfe espies,
Whence he takes selfe-pitties motions
To be Cynthia's owne deuotions;
And resolues Feare is a lyar,
Thinking she bids speake Desire,
But true loue that feares, and dare
Offend it selfe with pleasing Care,
So diuers wayes his heart doth moue,
That his tongue cannot speake of loue.
Onely in himselfe he sayes,
How fatall are blind Cupids waies,
Where Endymions poore hope is,
That while Loue sleepes, the heauens kisse.
But silent Loue is simple wooing,
Euen Destiny would haue vs doing.
Boldnesse neuer yet was chidden,
Till by Loue it be forbidden,
Myra leaues him, and knowes best,
What shall become of all the rest.

Sonnet LXXV

[In the time when herbs and flowers]

In the time when herbs and flowers,
Springing out of melting powers,
Teach the earth that heate and raine
Doe make Cupid liue againe:
Late when Sol, like great hearts, showes
Largest as he lowest goes,
Cælica with Philocell
In fellowship together fell:
Cælica her skinne was faire,
Daintie aborne was her haire;

122

Her haire Nature dyed browne,
To become the morning gowne,
Of hopes death which to her eyes,
Offers thoughts for sacrifice.
Philocell was true and kind
Poore, but not of poorest minde,
Though Mischance to harme affected
Hides and holdeth Worth suspected,
He good Shepherd loueth well,
But Cælica scorn'd Philocell.
Through enamel'd Meades they went,
Quiet she, he passion rent.
Her Worths to him hope did moue;
Her Worths made him feare to loue.
His heart sighs and faine would show,
That which all the World did know:
His heart sigh'd the sighs of feare,
And durst not tell her loue was there;
But as Thoughts in troubled sleepe,
Dreaming feare, and fearing weepe,
When for helpe they faine would cry,
Cannot speake, and helplesse lie:
So while his heart, full of paine,
Would it selfe in words complaine,
Paine of all paines, Louers feare,
Makes his heart to silence sweare.
Strife at length those dreames doth breake,
His despaire taught feare thus speake:

“Cælica, what shall I say?
You, to whom all Passions pray,
Like poore Flies that to the fire,
Where they burne themselues, aspire:
You, in whose worth men doe ioy,
That hope neuer to enioy,
Where both grace, and beautie's framed,
That Loue being might be blamed.
Can true Worthinesse be glad,
To make hearts that loue it, sad?

123

What meanes Nature in her Iewell,
To shew Mercies image cruell?
Deare, if euer in my dayes,
My heart ioy'd in others praise:
If I of the world did borrow,
Other ground for ioy or sorrow:
If I better wish to be
But the better to please thee;
I say, if this false be proued,
Let me not loue, or not be loued.
But when Reason did inuite
All my sense to Fortunes light;
If my loue did make my reason,
To it selfe for thy selfe treason;
If when Wisdome shewed me
Time and thoughts both lost for thee;
If those losses I did glory,
For I could not more lose, sory;
Cælica then doe not scorne
Loue, in humble humour borne.
Let not Fortune haue the power,
Cupids Godhead to deuoure.
For I heare the Wise-men tell,
Nature worketh oft as well,
In those men whom chance disgraceth,
As in those she higher placeth.
Cælica, 'tis neare a God,
To make euen Fortunes odd;
And of farre more estimation,
Is Creator, than Creation.
Then Deare, though I worthlesse be,
Yet let them to you worthy be,
Whose meeke thoughts are highly graced,
By your image in them placed.

Herewithall like one opprest,
With selfe-burthens he did rest,
Like amazed were his senses,
Both with pleasure and offences.

124

Cælica's cold answers show,
That which fooles feele, wise men know:
How self-pitties haue reflexion,
Backe into their owne infection:
And that Passions onely moue
Strings tun'd to one note of Loue:
She thus answeres him with Reason,
Neuer to desire in season;
“Philocell, if you loue me,
(For you would beloued be)
Your owne will must be your hire,
And desire reward desire.
Cupid is in my heart sped,
Where all desires else are dead.
Ashes o're Loues flames are cast,
All for one is there disgrac'd.
Make not then your owne mischance,
Wake your selfe from Passions-traunce,
And let Reason guide affection,
From despaire to new election.

Philocell that onely felt
Destinies which Cupid dealt;
No lawes but Loue-lawes obeying,
Thought that Gods were wonne with praying.
And with heart fix'd on her eyes,
Where Loue he thinks liues or dyes,
His words, his heart with them leading,
Thus vnto her dead loue pleading:
“Cælica, if euer you
Loued haue, as others doe;
Let my present thoughts be glassed,
In the thoughts which you haue passed,
Let self-pittie, which you know,
Frame true pittie now in you;
Let your forepast woe, and glorie,
Make you glad them, you make sory.
Loue reuengeth like a God,
When he beats he burnes the rod:

125

Who refuse almes to desire,
Dye when drops would quench the fire.
But if you doe feele againe
What peace is in Cupids paine,
Grant me, Deare, your wished measure,
Paines but paines that be of pleasure;
Find not these things strange in me,
Which within your heart we see;
For true Honour neuer blameth,
Those that Loue her seruants nameth.
But if your heart be so free,
As you would it seeme to be,
Nature hath in free hearts placed
Pitty for the poore disgraced.

His eyes great with child with teares
Spies in her eyes many feares,
Sees he thinks, that sweetnesse vanish
Which all feares was wont to banish.
Sees, sweet Loue, there wont to play,
Arm'd and drest to runne away,
To her heart where she alone,
Scorneth all the world but one.
Cælica with clouded face,
Giuing vnto anger grace,
While she threatned him displeasure,
Making anger looke like pleasure,
Thus in furie to him spake,
Words which make euen hearts to quake:
“Philocell, farre from me get you,
Men are false, we cannot let you;
Humble, and yet full of pride,
Earnest, not to be denyed;
Now vs, for not louing, blaming,
Now vs, for too much, defaming:
Though I let you posies beare,
Wherein my name cyphred were,
For I bid you in the tree,
Cipher downe your name by me:

126

For the Bracelet pearle-like white,
Which you stale from me by night,
I content was you should carry
Lest that you should longer tarry,
Thinke you that you might encroach,
To set kindnesse more abroach?
Thinke you me in friendship tyed,
So that nothing be denyed?
Doe you thinke that I must liue,
Bound to that which you will giue?
Philocell, I say, depart,
Blot my loue out of thy heart,
Cut my name out of the tree,
Beare not memorie of me.
My delight is all my care,
All lawes else despised are,
I will neuer rumour moue,
At least for one I doe not loue.

Shepheardesses, if it proue,
Philocell she once did loue,
Can kind doubt of true affection
Merit such a sharpe correction?
When men see you fall away,
Must they winke to see no day?
It is worse in him that speaketh,
Than in her that friendship breaketh?
Shepheardesses, when you change,
Is your ficklenesse so strange?
Are you thus impatient still?
Is your honour slaue to will?
They to whom you guiltie be,
Must not they your errour see?
May true Martyrs at the fire
Not so much as life desire?
Shepheardesses, yet marke well,
The Martyrdome of Philocell:
Rumour made his faith a scorne,
Him, example of forelorne,

127

Feeling he had of his woe,
Yet did loue his overthrow;
For that she knew loue would beare,
She to wrong him did not feare;
Ielousie of riuals grace,
In his passion got a place;
But Loue, Lord of all his powers,
Doth so rule this heart of ours,
As for our belou'd abuses,
It doth euer find excuses.
Loue teares Reasons law in sunder,
Loue, is God, let Reason wonder.
For nor scorne of his affection,
Nor despaire in his election,
Nor his faith damn'd for obeying,
Nor her change, his hopes betraying,
Can make Philocell remoue,
But he Cælica will loue.
Here my silly Song is ended,
Faire Nymphs be not you offended,
For as men that trauell'd farre,
For seene truths, oft scorned are,
By their neighbours, idle liues,
Who scarce know to please their Wiues;
So though I haue sung you more,
Than your hearts haue felt before,
Yet that faith in men doth dwell,
Who trauells Constancy can tell.

Sonnet LXXVI

[Fortune, art thou not forc'd sometimes to scorne?]

Fortune, art thou not forc'd sometimes to scorne?
That seest Ambition striue to change our state?
As though thy Scepter slaue to lust were borne?
Or Wishes could procure themselues a fate?

128

I, when I haue shot one shaft at my mother,
That her desires a-foote thinke all her owne,
Then straight draw vp my bow to strike another,
For Gods are best by discontentment knowne.

And when I see the poore forsaken sprite,
Like sicke men, whom the Doctor saith must dye,
Sometime with rage and strength of passion fight,
Then languishing enquire what life might buy:
I smile to see Desire is neuer wise,
But warres with Change, which is her paradise.

Sonnet LXXVII

[The Heathen Gods finite in Power, Wit, Birth]

The Heathen Gods finite in Power, Wit, Birth,
Yet worshipped for their good deeds to men,
At first kept Stations betweene heauen, and earth,
Alike iust to the Castle, and the Denne;
Creation, Merit, Nature duly weighed,
And yet, in show, no rule, but will obeyed.

Till time, and selfenesse, which turne worth to Arts,
Loue into complements, and things to thought,
Found out new Circles to enthrall Mens hearts
By Lawes; wherein while Thrones seeme ouerwrought,
Power finely hath surpriz'd this faith of man,
And tax'd his freedome at more than he can.

For to the Scepters Iudges Lawes reserue
As well the practicke, as expounding sense,
From which no Innocence can painlesse swerue,
They being Engines of Omnipotence:
With equall showes, then is not humble man
Here finely tax'd at much more than he can?

Our moderne Tyrants, by more grosse ascent,
Although they found distinction in the State
Of Church, Law, Custome, Peoples gouernment,
Mediums (at least) to giue excesse a rate
Yet fatally haue tri'd to change this frame,
And, make Will law, Mans wholesome lawes but name.

129

For when Power once hath trod this path of Might,
And found how Place aduantagiously extended
Waines, or confoundeth all Inferiors right
With thinne lines hardly seene, but neuer ended;
It straight drownes in this gulfe of vast affections,
Faith, truth, worth, law, all popular protections.

Sonnet LXXVIII

[The little Hearts, where light-wing'd Passion raignes]

The little Hearts, where light-wing'd Passion raignes,
Moue easily vpward, as all frailties doe;
Like Strawes to Ieat, these follow Princes veines,
And so, by pleasing, doe corrupt them too.
Whence as their raising proues Kings can create,
So States proue sicke, where toyes beare Staple-rate.

Like Atomi they neither rest, nor stand,
Nor can erect; because they nothing be
But baby-thoughts, fed with time-presents hand,
Slaues, and yet darlings of Authority;
Eccho's of wrong; shadowes of Princes might;
Which glow-worme-like, by shining, show 'tis night.

Curious of fame, as foule is to be faire;
Caring to seeme that which they would not be;
Wherein Chance helpes, since Praise is powers heyre,
Honor the creature of Authoritie:
So as borne high, in giddie Orbes of grace,
These Pictures are, which are indeed but Place.

And as the Bird in hand, with freedome lost,
Serues for a stale, his fellowes to betray:
So doe these Darlings rays'd at Princes cost
Tempt man to throw his libertie away;
And sacrifice Law, Church, all reall things
To soare, not in his owne, but Eagles wings.

130

Whereby, like Æsops dogge, men lose their meat,
To bite at glorious shadowes, which they see;
And let fall those strengths which make all States great
By free Truths chang'd to seruile flatterie.
Whence, while men gaze vpon this blazing starre,
Made slaues, not subiects, they to Tyrants are.

Sonnet LXXIX

[As when men see a Blazing starre appeare]

As when men see a Blazing starre appeare,
Each stirres vp others leuitie to wonder,
In restlesse thoughts holding those visions deare,
Which threaten to rent Gouernment in sunder;
Yet be but horrors, from vaine hearts sent forth,
To prophecie against Annointed worth:

So likewise mankinde, when true Gouernment
Her great examples to the world brings forth,
Straight in the errors natiue discontent,
Sees apparitions opposite to worth;
Which gathers such sense out of Enuies beames,
As still casts imputation on Supreames.

Sonnet LXXX

[Cleare spirits, which in Images set forth]

Cleare spirits, which in Images set forth
The wayes of Nature by fine imitation,
Are oft forc'd to Hyperboles of worth,
As oft againe to monstrous declination;
So that their heads must lin'd be, like the Skie,
For all Opinions arts to traffike by.

Dull Spirits againe, which loue all constant grounds,
As comely veyles for their vnactiuenesse,
Are oft forc'd to contract, or stretch their bounds,
As actiue Power spreads her beames more, or lesse:
For though in Natures waine these guests come forth;
Can place, or stampe make currant ought but worth?

131

Sonnet LXXXI

[Vnder a Throne I saw a Virgin sit]

Vnder a Throne I saw a Virgin sit,
The red, and white Rose quarter'd in her face;
Starre of the North, and for true guards to it,
Princes, Church, States, all pointing out her Grace.
The homage done her was not borne of Wit,
Wisdome admir'd, Zeale tooke Ambitions place,
State in her eyes taught Order how to fit,
And fixe Confusions vnobseruing race.
Fortune can here claime nothing truly great,
But that this Princely Creature is her seat.

Sonnet LXXXII

[You that seeke what Life is in Death]

You that seeke what Life is in Death,
Now find it aire that once was breath.
New names vnknowne, old names gone:
Till time end bodies, but soules none.
Reader! then make time, while you be,
But steppes to your Eternitie.

Sonnet LXXXIII

[VVho Grace, for Zenith had, from which no shadowes grow]

VVho Grace, for Zenith had, from which no shadowes grow,
Who hath seene Ioy of all his hopes, and end of all his woe,
Whose Loue belou'd hath beene the crowne of his desire,
Who hath seene sorrowes glories burnt, in sweet affections fire:
If from this heauenly state, which soules with soules vnites,
He be falne downe into the darke despaired warre of sprites;
Let him lament with me, for none doth glorie know,
That hath not beene aboue himselfe, and thence falne downe to woe:
But if there be one hope left in his languish'd heart,
In feare of worse, if wish of ease, if horrour may depart,

132

He playes with his complaints, he is no mate for me,
Whose loue is lost, whose hopes are fled, whose feares for euer be.
Yet not those happy feares which shew Desire her death
Teaching with vse a peace in woe, and in despaire a faith:
No, no, my feares kill not, but make vncured wounds,
Where ioy and peace doe issue out, and onely paine abounds.
Vnpossible are helpe, reward and hope to me,
Yet while vnpossible they are, they easie seeme to be.
Most easie seemes remorse, despaire and deathe to me,
Yet while they passing easie seeme, vnpossible they be.
So neither can I leaue my hopes that doe deceiue
Nor can I trust mine owne despaire, and nothing else receiue.
Thus be vnhappy men, blest to be more accurst;
Neere to the glories of the Sunne, clouds with most horrour burst.
Like Ghosts raised out of graues, who liue not, though they goe,
Whose walking feare to others is, and to themselues a woe:
So is my life by her whose loue to me is dead,
On whose worth my despaire yet walks, and my desire is fed;
I swallow downe the baite, which carries downe my death;
I cannot put loue from my heart, while life drawes in my breath;
My Winter is within which withereth my ioy;
My Knowledge, seate of Ciuill warre, where friends and foes destroy,
And my Desires are Wheeles, whereon my heart is borne,
With endlesse turning of themselues, still liuing to be torne.
My Thoughts are Eagles food, ordayned to be a prey
To worth; and being still consum'd, yet neuer to decay.
My Memorie, where once my heart laid vp the store
Of helpe, of ioy, of spirits wealth to multiply them more;
Is now become the Tombe wherein all these lye slaine,
My helpe, my ioy, my spirits wealth all sacrific'd to paine.
In Paradise I once did liue; and taste the tree,
Which shadowed was from all the world, in ioy to shadow me.
The tree hath lost his fruit, or I have lost my seate,
My soule both blacke with shadow is, and ouer-burnt with heat:

133

Truth here for triumph serues, to shew her power is great,
Whom no desert can ouercome, nor no distresse intreat.
Time past layes vp my ioy; and time to come my griefe,
She euer must be my desire, and neuer my reliefe.
Wrong, her Lieutenant is; my wounded Thoughts are they,
Who haue no power to keepe the field, nor will to runne away.
O ruefull Constancy, and where is Change so base,
As it may be compar'd with thee in scorne, and in disgrace?
Like as the Kings forlorne, depos'd from their estate,
Yet cannot choose but loue the Crowne, although new Kings they hate;
If they doe plead their right, nay, if they onely liue,
Offences to the Crowne alike their Good and Ill shall giue;
So (I would I were not) because I may complaine,
And cannot choose but loue my Wrongs, and ioy to Wish in vaine;
This faith condemneth me, my right doth rumor moue,
I may not know the cause I fell, nor yet without cause loue.
Then Loue where is reward, at least where is the fame
Of them that being, beare thy crosse, and being not, thy name?
The worlds example I, a Fable euery where,
A Well from whence the springs are dried, a Tree that doth not beare:
I like the Bird in cage at first with cunning caught,
And in my bondage for delight with greater cunning taught.
Now owners humour dyes, I neither loued nor fed,
Nor freed am, till in the cage forgotten I be dead.
The Ship of Greece, the Streames and she be not the same
They were, although Ship, Streames and she still beare their antique name.
The Wood which was, is worne, those waues are runne away,
Yet still a Ship, and still a Streame, still running to a Sea.
She lou'd, and still she loues, but doth not still loue me,
To all except my selfe yet is, as she was wont to be.
O, my once happy thoughts, the heauen where grace did dwell,
My Saint hath turn'd away her face, and made that heauen my hell.

134

A hell, for so is that from whence no soules returne,
Where, while our spirits are sacrific'd, they waste not though they burne.
Since then this is my state, and nothing worse than this,
Behold the mappe of death-like life exil'd from louely blisse,
Alone among the world, strange with my friends to be,
Shewing my fall to them that scorne, see not or will not see.
My Heart a wildernesse, my studies only feare,
And as in shadowes of curst death, a prospect of despaire.
My Exercise, must be my horrours to repeat,
My Peace, Ioy, End, and Sacrifice her dead Loue to intreat.
My Food, the time that was; the time to come, my Fast;
For Drinke, the barren thirst I feele of glories that are past;
Sighs and salt teares my Bath; Reason, my Looking-glasse,
To shew me he most wretched is, that once most happy was.
Forlorne desires my Clocke to tell me euery day,
That time hath stolne Loue, Life, and All but my distresse away.
For Musicke heauy sighes, my Walke an inward woe,
Which like a shadow euer shall before my body goe:
And I my selfe am he, that doth with none compare,
Except in woes and lacke of worth; whose states more wretched are.
Let no man aske my name, nor what else I should be;
For Greiv-Ill, paine, forlorne estate doe best decipher me.

Sonnet LXXXIV

[Farewell sweet Boy, complaine not of my truth]

Farewell sweet Boy, complaine not of my truth;
Thy Mother lou'd thee not with more deuotion;
For to thy Boyes play I gaue all my youth,
Yong Master, I did hope for your promotion.

While some sought Honours, Princes thoughts obseruing,
Many woo'd Fame, the child of paine and anguish,
Others iudg'd inward good a chiefe deseruing,
I in thy wanton Visions ioy'd to languish.

135

I bow'd not to thy image for succession,
Nor bound thy bow to shoot reformed kindnesse,
Thy playes of hope and feare were my confession,
The spectacles to my life was thy blindnesse;
But Cupid now farewell, I will goe play me,
With thoughts that please me lesse, & lesse betray me.

Sonnet LXXXV

[Loue is the Peace, whereto all thoughts doe striue]

Loue is the Peace, whereto all thoughts doe striue,
Done and begun with all our powers in one:
The first and last in vs that is aliue,
End of the good, and therewith pleas'd alone.

Perfections spirit, Goddesse of the minde,
Passed through hope, desire, griefe and feare,
A simple Goodnesse in the flesh refin'd,
Which of the ioyes to come doth witnesse beare.

Constant, because it sees no cause to varie,
A Quintessence of Passions ouerthrowne,
Rais'd aboue all that change of obiects carry,
A Nature by no other nature knowne:
For Glorie's of eternitie a frame,
That by all bodies else obscures her name.

Sonnet LXXXVI

[The Earth with thunder torne, with fire blasted]

The Earth with thunder torne, with fire blasted,
With waters drowned, with windie palsey shaken
Cannot for this with heauen be distasted,
Since thunder, raine and winds from earth are taken:
Man torne with Loue, with inward furies blasted,
Drown'd with despaire, with fleshly lustings shaken,
Cannot for this with heauen be distasted,
Loue, furie, lustings out of man are taken.

136

Then Man, endure thy selfe, those clouds will vanish;
Life is a Top which whipping Sorrow driueth;
Wisdome must beare what our flesh cannot banish,
The humble leade, the stubborne bootlesse striueth:
Or Man, forsake thy selfe, to heauen turne thee,
Her flames enlighten Nature, neuer burne thee.

Sonnet LXXXVII

[When as Mans life, the light of humane lust]

When as Mans life, the light of humane lust,
In socket of his earthly lanthorne burnes,
That all this glory vnto ashes must,
And generation to corruption turnes;
Then fond desires that onely feare their end,
Doe vainely wish for life, but to amend.

But when this life is from the body fled,
To see it selfe in that eternall Glasse,
Where time doth end, and thoughts accuse the dead,
Where all to come, is one with all that was;
Then liuing men aske how he left his breath,
That while he liued neuer thought of death.

Sonnet LXXXVIII

[Man, dreame no more of curious mysteries]

Man, dreame no more of curious mysteries,
As what was here before the world was made,
The first Mans life, the state of Paradise,
Where heauen is, or hells eternall shade,
For Gods works are like him, all infinite;
And curious search, but craftie sinnes delight.

The Flood that did, and dreadfull Fire that shall,
Drowne, and burne vp the malice of the earth,
The diuers tongues, and Babylons downe-fall,
Are nothing to the mans renewed birth;
First, let the Law plough vp thy wicked heart,
That Christ may come, and all these types depart.

137

When thou hast swept the house that all is cleare,
When thou the dust hast shaken from thy feete,
When Gods All-might doth in thy flesh appeare,
Then Seas with streames aboue thy skye doe meet;
For Goodnesse onely doth God comprehend,
Knowes what was first, and what shall be the end.

Sonnet LXXXIX

[The Manicheans did no Idols make]

The Manicheans did no Idols make,
Without themselues, nor worship gods of Wood,
Yet Idolls did in their Ideas take,
And figur'd Christ as on the crosse he stood.
Thus did they when they earnestly did pray,
Till clearer Faith this Idoll tooke away:

We seeme more inwardly to know the Sonne,
And see our owne saluation in his blood;
When this is said, we thinke the worke is done,
And with the Father hold our portion good:
As if true life within these words were laid,
For him that in life, neuer words obey'd.

If this be safe, it is a pleasant way,
The Crosse of Christ is very easily borne:
But sixe dayes labour makes the sabboth day,
The flesh is dead before grace can be borne.
The heart must first beare witnesse with the booke,
The earth must burne, ere we for Christ can looke.

Sonnet XC

[The Turkish gouernment allowes no Law]

The Turkish gouernment allowes no Law,
Mens liues and states depend on his behest;
We thinke Subiection there a seruile awe,
Where Nature finds both honour, wealth and rest.

138

Our Christian freedome is, we haue a law,
Which euen the Heathen thinke no Power should wrest;
Yet proues it crooked as power lists to draw,
The rage or grace that lurkes in Princes brests.
Opinion bodies may to shadowes giue,
But no burnt Zone it is, where People liue.

Sonnet XCI

[Rewards of earth, Nobilitie and Fame]

Rewards of earth, Nobilitie and Fame,
To senses Glorie, and to conscience woe,
How little be you, for so great a name?
Yet lesse is he with men that thinks you so.
For earthly Power, that stands by fleshly wit,
Hath banish'd that Truth, which should gouerne it.

Nobilitie, Powers golden fetter is,
Wherewith wise Kings subiection doe adorne,
To make man thinke her heauy yoke, a blisse,
Because it makes him more than he was borne.
Yet still a slaue, dimm'd by mists of a Crowne,
Lest he should see, what riseth, what puls downe.

Fame, that is but good words of euill deeds,
Begotten by the harme we haue, or doe,
Greatest farre off, least euer where it breeds,
We both with dangers and disquiet wooe.
And in our flesh (the vanities false glasse)
We thus deceau'd adore these Calues of brasse.

Sonnet XCII

[Virgula diuina, Sorcerers call a rod]

Virgula diuina, Sorcerers call a rod,
Gather'd with vowes, and Magicke sacrifice;
Which borne about, by influence doth nod,
Vnto the siluer, where it hidden lyes;
Which makes poore men to these blacke arts deuout,
Rich onely in the wealth which hope findes out.

139

Nobilitie, this pretious treasure is,
Laid vp in secret mysteries of State,
Kings creature, subiections gilded blisse,
Where grace, not merit, seemes to gouerne fate.
Mankinde I thinke to be this rod diuine,
For to the greatest euer they incline.

Eloquence, that is but wisdome speaking well,
(The Poets faigne) did make the sauage tame;
Of eares and hearts chain'd vnto tongues they tell;
I thinke Nobilitie to be the same:
For be they fooles, or speake they without wit,
We hold them wise, we fooles be-wonder it.

Inuisible there is an Art to goe,
(They say that studie Natures secret works)
And art there is to make things greater show;
In Noblenesse I thinke this secret lurks,
For place a Coronet on whom you will,
You straight see all great in him, but his Ill.

Sonnet XCIII

[The Augurs were of all the world admir'd]

The Augurs were of all the world admir'd,
Flatter' by Consulls, honour'd by the State,
Because the euent of all that was desir'd,
They seem'd to know, and keepe the books of Fate:
Yet though abroad they thus did boast their wit,
Alone among themselues they scorned it.

Mankinde, that with his wit doth gild his heart,
Strong in his Passions, but in Goodnesse weake;
Making great vices o're the lesse an Art,
Breeds wonder, and moues ignorance to speake,
Yet when his Fame is to the highest borne,
We know enough to laugh his praise to scorne.

140

Sonnet XCIV

[Men, that delight to multiply desire]

Men, that delight to multiply desire,
Like tellers are that take coyne but to pay,
Still tempted to be false, with little hire,
Blacke hands except, which they would haue away:
For, where power wisely Audits her estate,
The Exchequer Mens best recompense is hate.

The little Maide that weareth out the day,
To gather flow'rs still couetous of more,
At night when she with her desire would play,
And let her pleasure wanton in her store,
Discernes the first laid vnderneath the last,
Wither'd, and so is all that we haue past:

Fixe then on good desires, and if you finde
Ambitious dreames or feares of ouer-thwart;
Changes, temptations, bloomes of earthly minde,
Yet waue not, since earth change, hath change of smart.
For lest Man should thinke flesh a seat of blisse,
God workes that his ioy mixt with sorrow is.

Sonnet XCV

[Malice and Loue in their waies opposite]

Malice and Loue in their waies opposite,
The one to hurt it selfe for others good;
The other, to haue good by others spite,
Both raging most, when they be most withstood;
Though enemies, yet doe in this agree,
That both still breake the hearts where in they be.

Malice a habit is, wrought in the spirit,
By intricate opinions information;
Of scornefull wrong or of suppressing merit,
Which either wounds mens states or reputation;
And Tyrant-like, though shew of strength it beare,
Yet is but weakenesse growne, enrag'd by feare.

141

Loue is the true or false report of sense,
Who sent as spies, returning newes of worth,
With over-wonder breed the hearts offence,
Not bringing in, but carrying pleasure forth,
And child-like must have all things that they see,
So much lesse louers, than things loued be.

Malice, like ruine, with it selfe ouerthrowes
Mankinde, and therefore plaies a diuels part;
Loue puls it selfe downe, but to build vp those
It loues, and therefore beares an Angels heart.
Tyrants through feare and malice feed on blood,
Good Kings secure at home, seeke all mens good.

Sonnet XCVI

[In those yeeres, when our Sense, Desire and Wit]

In those yeeres, when our Sense, Desire and Wit,
Combine, that Reason shall not rule the heart;
Pleasure is chosen as a Goddesse fit,
The wealth of Nature freely to impart;
Who like an Idoll doth apparel'd sit
In all the glories of Opinions art;
The further off, the greater beauty showing,
Lost onely, or made lesse by perfect knowing.

Which faire Vsurper runnes a Rebels way,
For though elect of Sense, Wit and Desire,
Yet rules she none, but such as will obey,
And to that end becomes what they aspire;
Making that torment, which before was play,
Those dewes to kindle, which did quench the fire:
Now Honours image, now againe like lust,
But earthly still, and end repenting must.

While man, who Satyr-like, then knowes the flame,
When kissing of her faire appearing light,
Hee feeles a scorching power hid in the same,
Which cannot be reuealed to the sight,

142

Yet doth by ouer heat so shrinke this frame,
Of fiery apparitions in delight;
That as in Orbes, where many passions raigne,
What one Affection ioyes, the rest complaine.

In which confused sphere Man being plac'd
With equall prospect ouer good or ill;
The one unknowne, the other in distaste,
Flesh, with her many moulds of Change and Will,
So his affections carries on, and casts
In declination to the errour still;
As by the truth he gets no other light,
But to see Vice, a restlesse infinite.

By which true mappe of his Mortality,
Mans many Idols are at once defaced,
And all hypocrisies of fraile humanity,
Either exiled, waued, or disgraced;
Falne nature by the streames of vanity,
Forc'd vp to call for grace aboue her placed:
Whence from the depth of fatall desolation,
Springs vp the height of his Regeneration.

Which light of life doth all those shadowes warre
Of woe and lust, that dazell and inthrall,
Whereby mans ioyes with goodnesse bounded are,
And to remorse his feares transformed all;
His sixe dayes labour past, and that cleere starre,
Figure of Sabboths rest, rais'd by this fall;
For God comes not till man be ouerthrowne;
Peace is the seed of grace, in dead flesh sowne.

Flesh but the Top, which onely Whips make goe,
The Steele whose rust is by afflictions worne,
The Dust which good men from their feet must throw,
A liuing-dead thing, till it be new borne,
A Phenix-life, that from selfe-ruine growes,
Or Viper rather through her parents torne,
A boat, to which the world it selfe is Sea,
Wherein the minde sayles on her fatall way.

143

Sonnet XCVII

[Eternall Truth, almighty, infinite]

Eternall Truth, almighty, infinite,
Onely exiled from mans fleshly heart,
Where ignorance and disobedience fight,
In hell and sinne, which shall haue greatest part:
When thy sweet mercy opens forth the light,
Of Grace which giueth eyes vnto the blind,
And with the Law euen plowest vp our sprite
To faith, wherein flesh may saluation finde;
Thou bidst vs pray, and wee doe pray to thee,
But as to power and God without vs plac'd,
Thinking a wish may weare out vanity,
Or habits be by miracles defac'd.
One thought to God wee giue, the rest to sinne,
Quickely vnbent is all desire of good,
True words passe out, but haue no being within,
Wee pray to Christ, yet helpe to shed his blood;
For while wee say Believe, and feele it not,
Promise amends, and yet despaire in it,
Heare Sodom iudg'd, and goe not out with Lot,
Make Law and Gospell riddles of the wit:
We with the Iewes euen Christ still crucifie,
As not yet come to our impiety.

Sonnet XCVIII

[Wrapt vp, O Lord, in mans degeneration]

Wrapt vp, O Lord, in mans degeneration;
The glories of thy truth, thy ioyes eternall,
Reflect vpon my soule darke desolation,
And vgly prospects o're the sprites infernall.
Lord, I haue sinn'd, and mine iniquity,
Deserues this hell; yet Lord deliuer me.

Thy power and mercy neuer comprehended,
Rest lively imag'd in my Conscience wounded;
Mercy to grace, and power to feare extended,
Both infinite, and I in both confounded;
Lord, I haue sinn'd, and mine iniquity,
Deserues this hell, yet Lord deliver me.

144

If from this depth of sinne, this hellish graue,
And fatall absence from my Sauiours glory,
I could implore his mercy, who can saue,
And for my sinnes, not paines of sinne, be sorry:
Lord, from this horror of iniquity,
And hellish graue, thou wouldst deliuer me.

Sonnet XCIX

[Downe in the depth of mine iniquity]

Downe in the depth of mine iniquity,
That vgly center of infernall spirits;
Where each sinne feeles her owne deformity,
In these peculiar torments she inherits,
Depriu'd of humane graces, and diuine,
Euen there appeares this sauing God of mine.

And in this fatall mirrour of transgression,
Shewes man as fruit of his degeneration,
The errours ugly infinite impression,
Which beares the faithlesse downe to desperation;
Depriu'd of humane graces and diuine,
Euen there appeares this sauing God of mine.

In power and truth, Almighty and eternall,
Which on the sinne reflects strange desolation,
With glory scourging all the Sprites infernall,
And vncreated hell with vnpriuation;
Depriu'd of humane graces, not diuine,
Euen there appeares this sauing God of mine.

For on this sp'rituall Crosse condemned lying,
To paines infernall by eternall doome,
I see my Sauiour for the same sinnes dying,
And from that hell I fear'd, to free me, come;
Depriu'd of humane graces, not diuine,
Thus hath his death rais'd up this soule of mine.

145

Sonnet C

[In Night when colours all to blacke are cast]

In Night when colours all to blacke are cast,
Distinction lost, or gone downe with the light;
The eye a watch to inward senses plac'd,
Not seeing, yet still hauing power of sight,

Giues vaine Alarums to the inward sense,
Where feare stirr'd vp with witty tyranny,
Confounds all powers, and thorough selfe-offence,
Doth forge and raise impossibility:

Such as in thicke depriuing darkenesses,
Proper reflections of the errour be,
And images of selfe-confusednesses,
Which hurt imaginations onely see;
And from this nothing seene, tels newes of devils,
Which but expressions be of inward euils.

Sonnet CI

[Mans Youth it is a field of large desires]

Mans Youth it is a field of large desires,
Which pleas'd within, doth all without them please,
For in this loue of men liue those sweet fires,
That kindle worth and kindnesse vnto praise,
And where selfe-loue most from her selfenesse giues,
Man greatest in himselfe, and others liues.

Old Age againe which deemes this pleasure vaine,
Dull'd with experience of vnthankefulnesse,
Scornefull of fame, as but effects of paine,
Folds up that freedome in her narrownesse,
And for it onely loues her owne dreames best,
Scorn'd and contemned is of all the rest.

Such working Youth there is againe in state,
Which at the first with Iustice, Piety,
Fame, and Reward, true Instruments of fate,
Striue to improue this fraile humanity:
By which as Kings enlarge true worth in us,
So Crownes againe are well inlarged thus.

146

But States grow old, when Princes turne away
From Honour, to take pleasure for their ends;
For that a large is, this a narrow way,
That winnes a world, and this a few darke friends;
The one improuing worthinesse spreads farre,
Vnder the other good things prisoners are.

Thus Scepters shadow-like, grow short or long,
As worthy, or vnworthy Princes reigne,
And must contract, cannot be large or strong,
If mans weake humours reall powers restraine,
So that when Power and Nature doe oppose,
All but the worst men are assur'd to lose.

For when Respect, which is the strength of States,
Growes to decline by Kings descent within
That Powers babie-creatures dare set rates
Of Scorne upon Worth, Honour upon Sinne;
Then though Kings, Player-like, act Glories part,
Yet all within them is but Feare and Art.

Sonnet CII

[The Serpent, Sinne, by shewing humane lust]

The Serpent, Sinne, by shewing humane lust
Visions and dreames inticed man to doe
Follies, in which exceed his God he must,
And know more than hee was created to,
A charme which made the ugly sinne seeme good.
And is by falne Spirits onely vnderstood.

Now man no sooner from his meane creation,
Trode this excesse of vncreated sinne,
But straight he chang'd his being to priuation,
Horrour and death at this gate passing in;
Whereby immortall life, made for mans good,
Is since become the hell of flesh and blood.

147

But grant that there were no eternity,
That life were all, and Pleasure life of it,
In sinnes excesse there yet confusions be,
Which spoyle his peace, and passionate his wit,
Making his Nature lesse, his Reason thrall,
To tyranny of vice vnnaturall.

And as Hell fires, not wanting heat, want light;
So these strange witchcrafts, which like Pleasure be,
Not wanting faire inticements, want delight,
Inward being nothing but deformity;
And doe at open doores let fraile powers in
To that straight building, Little-ease of sinne.

Yet is there ought more wonderfull than this?
That Man, euen in the state of his perfection,
All things vncurst, nothing yet done amisse,
And so in him no base of his defection;
Should fall from God, and breake his Makers will,
Which could haue no end, but to know the Ill.

I aske the rather since in Paradise,
Eternity was obiect to his passion,
And hee in goodnesse like his Maker wise,
As from his spirit taking life and fashion;
What greater power there was to master this,
Or how a lesse could worke, my question is?

For who made all, 'tis sure yet could not make,
Any aboue himselfe, as Princes can,
So as, against his will no power could take,
A Creature from him; nor corrupt a man;
And yet who thinks he marr'd, that made vs good,
As well may think God lesse than flesh and blood.

Where did our being then seeke out priuation?
Aboue, within, without us all was pure,
Onely the Angels from their discreation,
By smart declar'd no being was secure,
But that transcendent Goodnesse which subsists,
By forming and reforming what it lists.

148

So as within the Man there was no more,
But possibility to worke upon,
And in these spirits, which were falne before,
An abstract curst eternity alone;
Refined by their high places in creation,
To adde more craft and malice to temptation.

Now with what force upon these middle spheares,
Of Probable, and Possibility,
Which no one constant demonstration beares,
And so can neither binde, nor bounded be;
What those could work, that hauing lost their God,
Aspire to be our Tempters and our Rod,

Too well is witness'd by this fall of ours,
For wee not knowing yet that there was ill,
Gaue easie credit to deceiuing powers,
Who wrought upon us onely by our will;
Perswading, like it, all was to it free,
Since where no sinne was, there no law could be.

And as all finite things seeke infinite,
From thence deriuing what beyond them is;
So man was led by charmes of this darke sp'rit,
Which hee could not know till hee did amisse;
To trust those Serpents, who learn'd since they fell,
Knew more than we did; euen their own made hell.

Which crafty oddes made us those clouds imbrace,
Where sinne in ambush lay to overthrow
Nature, (that would presume to fadome Grace)
Or could beleeue what God said was not so:
Sin, then we knew thee not, and could not hate,
And now we know thee, now it is too late.

Sonnet CIII

[O false and treacherous Probability]

O false and treacherous Probability,
Enemy of truth, and friend to wickednesse;
With whose bleare eyes opinion learnes to see
Truths feeble party here, and barrennesse.

149

When thou hast thus misled Humanity,
And lost obedience in the pride of wit,
With reason dar'st thou iudge the Deity,
And in thy flesh make bold to fashion it.

Vaine thought, the word of Power a riddle is,
And till the vayles be rent, the flesh newborne,
Reveales no wonders of that inward blisse,
Which but where faith is, euery where findes scorne;
“Who therfore censures God with fleshly sprite,
“As well in time may wrap vp infinite.

Sonnet CIV

[Two sects there be in this earth opposite]

Two sects there be in this earth opposite,
The one make Mahomet a Deity,
A tyrant Tartar rais'd by Warre and Sleight,
Ambitious waies of infidelity:
The World their heauen is, the World is great,
And racketh those hearts, where it hath receit.

The other Sect of cloystered people is,
Lesse to the world, with which they seeme to warre,
And so in lesse things drawne to doe amisse,
As all lusts, lesse than lust of conquest are:
Now if of God, both these haue but the name,
What mortall Idoll then, can equall Fame?

Sonnet CV

[Three things there be in Mans opinion deare]

Three things there be in Mans opinion deare,
Fame, many Friends, and Fortunes dignities:
False visions all, which in our sense appeare,
To sanctifie desire's Idolatries.

For what is Fortune, but a wat'ry glasse?
Whose chrystall forehead wants a steely backe,
Where raine and stormes beare all away that was,
Whose shape alike both depths and shallowes wracke.

150

Fame againe, which from blinding power takes light,
Both Cæsars shadow is, and Cato's friend,
The child of humour, not allyed to right,
Liuing by oft exchange of winged end.

And many Friends, false strength of feeble mind,
Betraying equals, as true slaues to might;
Like Ecchoes still send voyces down the wind,
But neuer in aduersity finde right.

Then Man, though vertue of extremities,
The middle be, and so hath two to one,
By Place and Nature constant enemies,
And against both these no strength but her owne,
Yet quit thou for her, Friends, Fame, Fortunes throne;
Diuels, there many be, and Gods but one.

Sonnet CVI

[How fals it out, the sincere Magistrate]

How fals it out, the sincere Magistrate,
(Who keepes the course of Iustice sacredly)
Reapes from the people reuerence, and hate,
But not the loue which followes liberty?

The cause is plaine, since taxe on Peoples good
Is hardly borne, Sense hauing no foresight,
Hates reasons workes as strange to flesh and blood,
Whence he that striues to keepe mans heart upright

Taxeth his phansies at an higher rate;
And laying lawes vpon his frailty,
Brings all his vices to a bankrupt state,
So much is true worth more refin'd than we:
Againe, who taskes mens wealth, pierce but their skin,
Who roots their vice out, must pierce deeper in.

151

Sonnet CVII

[Isis, in whom the Poets feigning wit]

Isis, in whom the Poets feigning wit,
Figures the Goddesse of Authority,
And makes her on an Asse in triumph sit,
As if Powers throne were mans humility;
Inspire this Asse, as well becomming it,
Euen like a Type of wind-blowne vanity:
With pride to beare Powers gilding scorching heat
For no hire, but opinion to be great.

So as this Beast, forgetting what he beares,
Bridled and burdend by the hand of might,
While he beholds the swarmes of hope and feares,
Which wait vpon ambition infinite,
Proud of the glorious furniture hee weares,
Takes all to Isis offer'd, but his right;
Till wearinesse, the spurre, or want of food,
Makes gilded curbs of all beasts understood.

Sonnet CVIII

[What is the cause, why States, that war and win]

What is the cause, why States, that war and win,
Haue honour, and breed men of better fame,
Than States in peace, since war and conquest sin
In blood, wrong liberty, all trades of shame?
Force-framing instruments, which it must vse,
Proud in excesse, and glory to abuse.

The reason is; Peace is a quiet Nurse
Of Idlenesse, and Idlenesse the field,
Where wit and Power change all seedes to the worse,
By narrow self-will upon which they build,
And thence bring forth captiu'd inconstant ends,
Neither to Princes, nor to People friends

152

Besides, the sinnes of Peace on Subiects feed,
And thence wound power, which for it all things can,
With wrong to one despaires in many breed,
For while Lawes' oathes, Powers creditors to man,
Make humble Subiects dreame of natiue right,
Mans faith abus'd addes courage to despite.

Where conquest workes by strength, and stirs up Fame,
A glorious Echo, pleasing doome of paine,
Which in the sleepe of death yet keepes a name,
And makes detracting losse speake ill in vaine.

For to Great Actions time so friendly is,
As o'er the meanes (albeit the meanes be ill)
It casts forgetfulnesse; vailes things amisse,
With power and honour to encourage will.

Besides things hard a reputation beare,
To dye resolu'd though guilty wonder breeds,
Yet what strength those be which can blot out feare,
And to selfe-ruine ioyfully proceeds,
Aske them that from the ashes of this fire,
With new liues still to such new flames aspire.

Sonnet CIX

[Syon lyes waste, and thy Ierusalem]

Syon lyes waste, and thy Ierusalem,
O Lord, is falne to vtter desolation,
Against thy Prophets, and thy holy men,
The sinne hath wrought a fatall combination,
Prophan'd thy name, thy worship ouerthrowne,
And made thee liuing Lord, a God vnknowne.

Thy powerfull lawes, thy wonders of creation,
Thy Word incarnate, glorious heauen, darke hell,
Lye shadowed vnder Mans degeneration,
Thy Christ still crucifi'd for doing well,
Impiety, O Lord, sits on thy throne,
Which makes thee liuing Light, A God vnknown.

153

Mans superstition hath thy truths entomb'd,
His Atheisme againe her pomps defaceth,
That sensuall vnsatiable vaste wombe
Of thy seene Church, thy vnseene Church disgraceth;
There liues no truth with them that seem thine own,
Which makes thee liuing Lord, a God vnknowne.

Yet vnto thee, Lord, (mirrour of transgression)
Wee, who for earthly Idols, haue forsaken
Thy heauenly Image (sinlesse pure impression)
And so in nets of vanity lye taken,
All desolate implore that to thine owne,
Lord, thou no longer liue a God vnknowne.

Yet Lord let Israels plagues not be eternall,
Nor sinne for euer cloud thy sacred Mountaines,
Nor with false flames spirituall but infernall,
Dry up thy mercies euer springing fountaines,
Rather, sweet Iesus, fill vp time and come,
To yeeld the sinne her euerlasting doome.

FINIS

154

A TREATIE OF HUMANE LEARNING

1

The Mind of Man is this worlds true dimension;
And Knowledge is the measure of the minde:
And as the minde, in her vaste comprehension,
Containes more worlds than all the world can finde:
So Knowledge doth it selfe farre more extend,
Than all the minds of Men can comprehend.

2

A climing Height it is without a head,
Depth without bottome, Way without an end,
A Circle with no line inuironed;
Not comprehended, all it comprehends;
Worth infinite, yet satisfies no minde,
Till it that infinite of the God-head finde.

3

This Knowledge is the same forbidden tree,
Which man lusts after to be made his Maker;
For Knowledge is of Powers eternity,
And perfect Glory, the true image-taker;
So as what doth the infinite containe,
Must be as infinite as it againe.

155

4

No maruell then, if proud desires reflexion,
By gazing on this Sunne, doe make vs blinde,
Nor if our Lust, Our Centaure-like Affection,
Instead of Nature, fadome clouds, and winde,
So adding to originall defection,
As no man knowes his owne vnknowing minde:
And our Ægyptian darkenesse growes so grosse,
As we may easily in it, feele our losse.

5

For our defects in Nature who sees not?
Wee enter first things present not conceiving,
Not knowing future, what is past forgot:
All other Creatures instant power receiving,
To helpe themselues; Man onely bringeth sense
To feele, and waile his natiue impotence.

6

Which Sense, Mans first instructor, while it showes
To free him from deceipt, deceiues him most;
And from this false root that mistaking growes,
Which truth in humane knowledges hath lost:
So that by iudging Sense herein perfection,
Man must deny his Natures imperfection.

7

Which to be false, euen Sense it selfe doth proue,
Since euery Beast in it doth vs exceed;
Besides, these senses which we thus approue,
In vs as many diuerse likings breed,
As there be different tempers in Complexions,
Degrees in healths, or Ages imperfections.

156

8

Againe, Change from without no lesse deceives,
Than doe our owne debilities within:
For th' obiect which in grosse our flesh conceives
After a sort, yet when light doth beginne
These to retaile, and subdiuide, or sleeues
Into more minutes; then growes Sense so thinne,
As none can so refine the sense of man,
That two, or three, agree in any can.

9

Yet these rack'd vp by Wit excessiuely,
Make fancy thinke shee such gradations findes
Of heat, cold, colors such variety,
Of smels, and tasts, of tunes such diuers kindes,
As that braue Scythian never could descry,
Who found more sweetnesse in his horses naying,
Than all the Phrygian, Dorian, Lydian playing.

10

Knowledges next organ is Imagination;
A glasse, wherein the obiect of our Sense
Ought to reflect true height, or declination,
For vnderstandings cleare intelligence:
But this power also hath her variation,
Fixed in some, in some with difference;
In all, so shadowed with selfe-application
As makes her pictures still too foule, or faire;
Not like the life in lineament, or ayre.

11

This power besides, alwayes cannot receiue
What sense reports, but what th' affections please
To admit; and as those Princes that doe leaue
Their State in trust to men corrupt with ease,
“False in their faith, or but to faction friend,
“The truth of things can scarcely comprehend:

157

12

So must th'Imagination from the sense
Be misinformed, while our affections cast
False shapes, and formes on their intelligence,
And to keepe out true intromissions thence,
Abstracts the imagination, or distasts,
With images preoccupately plac'd.

13

Hence our desires, feares, hopes, loue, hate, and sorrow,
In fancy make us heare, feele, see impressions,
Such as out of our sense they doe not borrow;
And are the efficient cause, the true progression
Of sleeping visions, idle phantasmes waking,
Life, dreames; and knowledge, apparitions making.

14

Againe, our Memory, Register of Sense,
And mould of Arts, as Mother of Induction,
Corrupted with disguis'd intelligence,
Can yeeld no Images for mans instruction:
But as from stained wombes, abortiue birth
Of strange opinions, to confound the earth.

15

The last chiefe oracle of what man knowes
Is Vnderstanding; which though it containe
Some ruinous notions, which our Nature showes,
Of generall truths, yet haue they such a staine
From our corruption, as all light they lose;
Saue to conuince of ignorance, and sinne,
Which where they raigne let no perfection in.

158

16

Hence weake, and few those dazled notions be,
Which our fraile Vnderstanding doth retaine;
So as mans bankrupt Nature is not free,
By any Arts to raise it selfe againe;
Or to those notions which doe in vs liue
Confus'd, a well-fram'd Art-like state to giue.

17

Nor in a right line can her eyes ascend,
To view the things that immateriall are;
For as the Sunne doth, while his beames descend,
Lighten the earth, but shaddow euery starre:
So Reason stooping to attend the Sense,
Darkens the spirits cleare intelligence.

18

Besides; these faculties of apprehension;
Admit they were, as in the soules creation,
All perfect here, (which blessed large dimension
As none denies, so but by imagination
Onely, none knowes) yet in that comprehension,
Euen through those instruments wherby she works,
Debility, misprision, imperfection lurkes;

19

As many, as there be within the braine
Distempers, frenzies, or indispositions;
Yea of our falne estate the fatall staine
Is such, as in our Youth while compositions,
And spirits are strong, conception then is weake,
And faculties in yeeres of vnderstanding breake.

159

20

Againe, we see the best Complexions vaine,
And in the worst more nimble subtilty;
From whence Wit, a distemper of the braine,
The Schooles conclude, and our capacity;
How much more sharpe, the more it apprehends,
Still to distract, and lesse truth comprehends.

21

But all these naturall Defects perchance
May be supplyed by Sciences, and Arts;
Which wee thirst after, study, admire, aduance,
As if restore our fall, recure our smarts
They could, bring in perfection, burne our rods;
With Demades to make us like our Gods.

22

Indeed to teach they confident pretend,
All generall, vniforme Axioms scientificall
Of truth, that want beginning, haue no end,
Demonstratiue, infallible, onely essentiall:
But if these Arts containe this mystery,
It proues them proper to the Deity:

23

Who onely is eternall, infinite, all-seeing,
Euen to the abstract essences of Creatures;
Which pure transcendent Power can haue no being
Within mans finite, fraile, imperfect features:
For proofe, What grounds so generall, and known,
But are with many exceptions ouerthrowne?

160

24

So that where our Philosophers confesse,
That we a knowledge vniuersall haue,
Our ignorance in particulars we expresse:
Of perfect demonstration, who yet gaue
One cleare example? Or since time began,
What one true forme found out by wit of Man?

25

Who those characteristicall Ideas
Conceiues, which Science of the Godhead be?
But in their stead we raise, and mould Tropheas,
Formes of Opinion, Wit, and Vanity,
Which we call Arts; and fall in loue with these,
As did Pygmalion with his carved tree;
For which men, all the life they here enioy,
Still fight, as for the Helens of their Troy.

26

Hence doe we out of words create us Arts;
Of which the People not withstanding be
Masters, and without rules doe them impart:
Reason we make an Art; yet none agree
What this true Reason is; nor yet haue powers,
To leuell others Reason vnto ours.

27

Nature we draw to Art, which then forsakes
To be herselfe, when she with Art combines;
Who in the secrets of her owne wombe makes
The Load-stone, Sea, the Soules of men, and windes;
Strong instances to put all Arts to schoole,
And proue the Science-monger but a foole.

161

28

Nay we doe bring the influence of Starres,
Yea God himselfe euen vnder moulds of Arts;
Yet all our Arts cannot preuaile so farre,
As to confirme our eyes, resolue our hearts,
Whether the heauens doe stand still or moue,
Were fram'd by Chance, Antipathie, or Loue?

29

Then what is our high-prais'd Philosophie,
But bookes of Poesie, in Prose compil'd?
Farre more delightfull than they fruitfull be,
Witty apparance, Guile that is beguil'd;
Corrupting minds much rather than directing,
The allay of Duty, and our Prides erecting.

30

For as among Physitians, what they call
Word-Magike, neuer helpeth the disease,
Which drugges, and dyet ought to deale withall,
And by their reall working giue vs ease:
So these Word-sellers haue no power to cure
The Passions, which corrupted liues endure.

31

Yet not asham'd these Verbalists still are,
From youth, till age, or study dimme their eyes,
To engage the Grammar rules in ciuill warre,
For some small sentence which they patronize;
As if our end liu'd not in reformation,
But Verbes, or Nounes true sense, or declination.

162

32

Musike instructs me which be lyrike Moodes;
Let her instruct me rather, how to show
No weeping voyce for losse of Fortunes goods.
Geometrie giues measure to the earth below;
Rather let her instruct me, how to measure
What is enough for need, what fit for pleasure.

33

Shee teacheth, how to lose nought in my bounds,
And I would learne with ioy to lose them all:
This Artist showes which way to measure Rounds,
But I would know how first Mans minde did fall,
How great it was, how little now it is,
And what that knowledge was which wrought vs this!

34

What thing a right line is, the learned know;
But how auailes that him, who in the right
Of life, and manners doth desire to grow?
What then are all these humane Arts, and lights,
But Seas of errors? In whose depths who sound,
Of truth finde onely shadowes, and no ground.

35

Then if our Arts want power to make vs better,
What foole will thinke they can vs wiser make,
Life is the Wisdome, Art is but the letter,
Or shell, which oft men for the kernell take;
In Moodes, and Figures moulding vp deceit,
To make each Science rather hard, than great.

163

36

And as in Grounds, which salt by nature yeeld,
No care can make returne of other graine:
So who with Bookes their nature ouer-build,
Lose that in practise, which in Arts they gaine;
That of our Schooles it may be truely said,
Which former times to Athens did vpbraid:

37

“That many came first Wise men to those Schooles;
“Then grew Philosophers, or Wisdome-mongers;
“Next Rhetoricians, and at last grew fooles.
Nay it great honour were to this Booke-hunger,
If our schools dreams could make their scholars see
What imperfections in our Natures be.

38

But these vaine Idols of humanity,
As they infect our wits, so doe they staine,
Or binde our inclinations borne more free,
While the nice Alchymie of this proud veine
Makes some grow blinde, by gazing on the skie,
Others, like whelpes, in wrangling Elenchs die.

39

And in the best, where Science multiplies,
Man multiplies with it his care of minde:
While in the worst, these swelling harmonies,
Like bellowes, fill vnquiet hearts with winde,
To blow the flame of malice, question, strife,
Both into publike States and priuate life.

164

40

Nor is it in the Schooles alone where Arts
Transform themselues to Craft, Knowledge to Sophistry,
Truth into Rhetorike; since this wombe imparts,
Through all the practice of Humanity,
Corrupt, sophisticall, chymicall allayes,
Which snare the subiect and the King betrayes.

41

Though there most dangerous, where wit serveth might,
To shake diuine foundations, and humane,
By painting vices, and by shadowing right,
With tincture of Probabile prophane,
Vnder false colour giuing truth such rates,
As Power may rule in chiefe through all Estates.

42

For which respects, Learning hath found distaste
In Gouernments, of great, and glorious fame;
In Lacedemon scorned, and disgrac'd,
As idle, vaine, effeminate, and lame:
Engins that did vn-man the mindes of men
From action, to seeke glorie in a den.

43

Yea Rome it selfe, while there in her remain'd
That antient, ingenuous austerity,
The Greeke professors from her wals restrain'd,
And with the Turke they still exiled be:
We finde in Gods Law curious Arts reprou'd;
Of Mans inventions no one Schoole approu'd.

165

44

Besides, by name this high Philosophy
Is in the Gospell term'd a vaine deceipt;
And caution giuen, by way of prophecy
Against it, as if in the depth, and height
Of spirit, the Apostle clearely did foresee
That in the end corrupt the Schoole-men would
Gods true Religion, in a heathen mould.

45

And not alone make flesh a Deity,
But gods of all that fleshly sense brings forth:
Giue mortall nature immortality,
Yet thinke all but time present nothing worth:
An Angel-pride, and in vs much more vaine
Since what they could not, how should we attaine?

46

For if Mans wisedomes, lawes, arts, legends, schooles,
Be built vpon the knowledge of the evill;
And if these Trophies be the onely tooles,
Which doe maintaine the kingdome of the Diuell;
If all these Babels had the curse of tongues,
So as confusion still to them belongs:

47

Then can these moulds neuer containe their Maker,
Nor those nice formes, and different beings show,
Which figure in his works, truth, wisdome, nature,
The onely obiects for the soule to know:
These Arts, moulds, workes can but expresse the sinne,
Whence by mans follie, his fall did beginne.

166

48

Againe, if all mans fleshly Organs rest
Vnder that curse, as out of doubt they doe;
If Skie, Sea, Earth, lye vnder it opprest,
As tainted with that tast of errors too;
In this Mortalitie, this strange priuation,
What knowledge stands but sense of declination?

49

A Science neuer scientificall,
A Rhapsody of questions controuerted;
In which because men know no truth at all,
To euery purpose it may be conuerted:
Iudge then what grounds this can to others give,
That waued euer in it selfe must liue?

50

Besides, the soule of Man, Prince of this earth,
That liuely image of Gods truth, and might,
If it haue lost the blisse of heauenly birth,
And by transgression dimme that piercing light,
Which from their inward natures, gaue the name
To euery creature, and describ'd the same:

51

If this be stain'd in Essence, as in Shrine,
Though all were pure, whence she collects, diuides
Good, ill; false, true; things humane, or diuine;
Yet where the Iudge is false, what truth abides?
False both the obiects, Iudge, and method be;
What be those Arts then of Humanity?

167

52

But strange Chimeras borne of mortall sense,
Opinions curious moulds, wherein she casts
Elenches, begot by false intelligence,
Betweene our Reasons, and our Senses tasts:
Binding mans minde with earths imposture-line,
For euer looking vp to things diuine:

53

Whereby, euen as the Truth in euery heart
Refines our fleshly humors, and affection,
That they may easlier serue the better part,
Know, and obey the Wisedome to perfection:
These dreames embody, and engrosse the minde,
To make the nobler serve the baser kind.

54

In lapse to God though thus the World remaines,
Yet doth she with dimme eyes in Chaos'd light,
Striue, study, search through all her finite veines,
To be, and know (without God) infinite:
To which end Cloysters, Cells, Schooles, she erects,
False moulds, that while they fashion, doe infect.

55

Whence all Mans fleshly idols being built,
As humane Wisedome, Science, Power, and Arts,
Vpon the false foundation of his Guilt;
Confusedly doe weaue within our hearts,
Their owne aduancement, state, and declination,
As things whose beings are but transmutation.

168

56

Subiect not onely therein vnto time,
And all obstructions of Misgouernment;
But in themselves, when they are most sublime,
Like fleshly visions, neuer permanent:
Rising to fall, falling to rise againe,
And never can, where they are knowne, remaine.

57

But if they scape the violence of Warre,
(That actiue instrument of Barbarisme)
With their owne nicenesse they traduced are,
And like opinion, craftie moulds of schisme;
As founded vpon flatteries of Sense,
Which must with truth keepe least intelligence:

58

But in a darke successiue Ignorance
Some times lye shadowed, and although not dead,
Yet sleeping, till the turnes of Change, or Chance
Doe (in their restlesse chariots garnished
Among the cloudy Meteors made of earth)
Giue them again, to scourge the world, new birth.

59

Thus, till Man end, his Vanities goe round,
In credit here, and there discredited;
Striuing to binde, and neuer to be bound,
To gouerne God, and not bee governed:
Which is the cause his life is thus confused,
In his corruption, by these Arts abused.

169

60

Here see we then the Vainenesse, and Defect
Of Schooles, Arts, and all else that man doth know,
Yet shall wee straight resolve, that by neglect
Of Science, Nature doth the richer grow?
That Ignorance is the mother of Deuotion,
Since Schooles giue them that teach this such promotion?

61

No, no; amongst the worst let her come in,
As Nurse, and Mother vnto euery lust;
Since who commit iniustice, often sinne,
Because they know not what to each is iust;
Intemperance doth oft our Natures winne,
Because what's foule, vndecent, wee thinke best,
And by misprision so grow in the rest.

62

Man must not therefore rashly Science scorne,
But choose, and read with care; since Learning is
A bunch of grapes sprung vp among the thornes,
Where, but by caution, none the harme can misse;
Nor Arts true riches read to vnderstand,
But shall, to please his taste, offend his hand.

63

For as the World by time still more declines,
Both from the truth, and wisedome of Creation:
So at the truth she more and more repines,
As making hast to her last declination
Therefore if not to cure, yet to refine
Her stupidnesse, as well as ostentation,
Let vs set straight that Industrie againe,
Which else as foolish proves, as it is vaine.

170

64

Yet here, before we can direct mans choice,
We must diuide Gods Children from the rest;
Since these pure soules (who only know his voice)
Haue no Art, but Obedience, for their test:
A mystery betweene God, and the man,
Asking, and giuing farre more than we can.

65

Let vs then respite these, and first behold
The World, with all her instruments, waies, ends;
What keepes proportion, what must be control'd,
Which be her enemies, and which her friends?
That so we best may counsell, or decree
The vanity can neuer wiser bee.

66

Wherein to guide Mans choice to such a mood,
As all the world may iudge a worke of merit;
I wish all curious Sciences let blood,
Superfluous purg'd from wantonnesse of spirit:
For though the world be built vpon excesse,
Yet by confusion shee must needs grow lesse:

67

For Man being finite both in wit, time, might,
His dayes in vanitie may be mispent;
Vse therefore must stand higher than delight;
The actiue hate a fruitlesse instrument:
So must the World those busie idle fooles,
That serve no other market than the Schooles.

171

68

Againe the actiue, necessarie Arts,
Ought to be briefe in bookes, in practise long;
Short precepts may extend to many parts;
The practise must be large, or not be strong.
And as by artlesse Guides, States euer waine:
So doe they where these vselesse dreamers reigne.

69

For if these two be in one ballance weigh'd,
The artlesse Vse beares down the vselesse Arts;
With mad men, else how is the madd'st obey'd,
But by degrees of rage in actiue hearts?
While Contemplation doth the world distract,
With vaine Ideas, which it cannot act.

70

And in this thinking vndigested notion,
Transformes all beings into Atomi;
Dissolues, builds not; nor rests, nor gets by motion,
Heads being lesse than wombes of vanity:
Which Visions make all humane Arts thus tedious,
Intricate, vaine, endlesse, as they proue to vs.

71

The World should therefore her instructions draw
Backe vnto life, and actions, whence they came;
That practise, which gaue being, might giue law,
To make them short, cleare, fruitfull vnto man:
As God made all for vse; euen so must she,
By choice, and vse, vphold her mystery.

172

72

Besides, where Learning, like a Caspian Sea,
Hath hitherto receiu'd all little brookes,
Deuour'd their sweetnesse, borne their names away,
And in her greenesse hid their chrystall lookes;
Let her turne Ocean now, and giue backe more
To those cleare Springs, than she receiu'd before.

73

Let her that gather'd rules Emperiall,
Out of particular experiments,
And made meere contemplation of them all,
Apply them now to speciall intents;
That she, and mutuall Action, may maintaine
Themselues, by taking, what they giue againe.

74

And where the progresse was to finde the cause,
First by effects out, now her regresse should
Forme Art directly vnder Natures Lawes;
And all effects so in their causes mould:
As fraile Man liuely, without Schoole of smart,
Might see Successes comming in an Art.

75

For Sciences from Nature should be drawne,
As Arts from practise, neuer out of Bookes;
Whose rules are onely left with time in pawne,
To shew how in them Vse, and Nature lookes:
Out of which light, they that Arts first began,
Pierc'd further, than succeeding ages can.

173

76

Since how should Water rise rise aboue her fountaine?
Or spirits rule-bound see beyond that light?
So as if Bookes be mans Parnassus mountaine,
Within them no Arts can be infinite;
Nor any multiply himselfe to more,
But still grow lesse than he that went before.

77

Againe, Art should not, like a Curtizan,
Change habits, dressing graces euery day;
But of her Termes one stable Counterpane
Still keepe, to shun ambiguous allay;
That Youth in Definitions once receiu'd,
(As in Kings standards) might not be deceiu'd.

78

To which true end, in euery Art there should
One, or two Authors be selected out,
To cast the learners in a constant mould;
Who if not falsely, yet else goe about;
And as the Babes by many Nurses doe,
Oft change conditions, and complexions too.

79

The like surueyes that spirit of Gouernment,
Which moulds, and tempers all these seruing Arts,
Should take, in choosing out fit instruments,
To iudge mens inclinations, and their parts;
That Bookes, Arts, Natures, may well fitted be,
To hold vp this Worlds curious mystery.

174

80

First dealing with her chiefe commanding Art,
The outward Churches, which their Ensignes beare
So mixt with power, and craft in euery part,
As any shape, but Truth, may enter there:
All whose hypocrisies, thus built on passion,
Can yet nor being giue, nor constant fashion.

81

For though the words she vse, seeme leuels true,
And strong, to show the crookednesse of Error;
Yet in the inward man there's nothing new,
But masked euill, which still addeth terror,
Helping the vanity to buy or sell,
And rests as seldome as it labours well.

82

Besides their Schoolemens sleepy speculation,
Dreaming to comprehend the Deity
In humane reasons finite eleuation;
While they make Sense seat of Eternity,
Must bury Faith, whose proper obiects are
Gods mysteries, aboue our Reason farre.

83

Besides, these Nymphs of Nemesis still worke
Nets of opinion, to entangle spirits;
And in the shadow of the Godhead lurke,
Building a Babel vpon faithlesse merits;
Whence Forme, and Matter neuer can agree,
To make one Church of Christianitie.

175

84

The Ancient Church which did succeed that light,
In which the Iewes high Priest-hood iustly fell,
More faithfully endeauour'd to vnite,
And thereby neerer came to doing well;
Neuer reuealing curious mysteries,
Vnlesse enforc'd by mans impieties.

85

And when that Disobedience needs would deale
With hidden knowledge, to prophane her Maker;
Or vnder questions contradiction steale,
Then wisely vndertakes this vndertaker
With powerfull Councels, that made Error mute;
Not arguments, which still maintaine dispute.

86

So were it to be wish'd, each Kingdome would
Within her proper Soueraignity,
Seditions, Schismes, and strange Opinions mould
By Synods, to a setled vnity;
Such, as though Error priuately did harme,
Yet publike Schismes might not so freely swarme.

87

For though the World, and Man can neuer frame
These outward moulds, to cast Gods chosen in;
Nor giue his Spirit where they giue his Name;
That power being neuer granted to the sinne:
Yet in the world those Orders prosper best,
Which from the word, in seeming, varie least.

176

88

Since therefore she brookes not Diuinity,
But Superstition, Heresie, Schisme, Rites,
Traditions, Legends, and Hypocrisie;
Let her yet forme those visions in the light,
To represent the Truth she doth despise;
And, by that likenesse, prosper in her lies.

89

To which end let her raise the discipline,
And practise of Repentance, Piety, Loue;
To image forth those Homages Diuine,
Which euen by showes, draw Honour from aboue;
Embracing Wisdome, though she hate the good,
Since Power thus vayl'd is hardly vnderstood.

90

Lawes be her next chiefe Arts, and instruments;
Of which the onely best deriued be,
Out of those tenne words in Gods Testaments,
Where Conscience is the base of policie;
But in the world a larger scope they take,
And cure no more wounds, than perchance they make.

91

They being there meere Children of disease,
Not form'd at once by that all-seeing might,
But rather as Opinions markets please,
Whose diuerse spirits in times present light,
Will yet teach Kings to order, and reduce
Those abstract rules of Truth, to rules of Vse.

177

92

Therefore, as shadowes of those Lawes diuine,
They must assist Church-censure, punish Error,
Since when, from Order, Nature would decline,
There is no other natiue cure but terror;
By Discipline, to keepe the Doctrine free,
That Faith and Power still relatiues may be.

93

Let this faire hand-maid then the Church attend,
And to the wounds of Conscience adde her paines,
That priuate hearts may vnto publike ends
Still gouern'd be, by Orders easie raines;
And by effect, make manifest the cause
Of happy States to be religious Lawes.

94

Their second noble office is, to keepe
Mankinde vpright in trafficke of his owne,
That fearlesse each may in his cottage sleepe,
Secur'd that right shall not be ouerthrowne;
Persons indifferent, reall Arts in prise,
And in no other priuiledge made wise.

95

Lastly, as linkes betwixt mankinde, and Kings,
Lawes safely must protect obedience,
Vnder those Soueraigne, all-embracing wings,
Which from beneath expect a reuerence:
That like the Ocean, with her little springs,
We for our sweet may feele the salt of Kings.

178

96

Physicke, with her faire friend Philosophie,
Come next in ranke, as well as Reputation;
Whose proper subiect is Mortalitie,
Which cannot reach that principall Creation,
Mixtures of Nature, curious mystery
Of timelesse time, or bodies transmutation;
Nor comprehend the infinite degrees
Of qualities, and their strange operation;
Whence both, vpon the second causes grounded,
Must iustly by the first cause, be confounded.

97

Therefore, let these which decke this house of clay,
And by excesse of Mans corruption gaine,
Know probabilitie is all they may,
For to demonstrate they cannot attaine:
Let labour, rest, and dyet be their way
Mans natiue heat, and moisture to maintaine,
As Healths true base, and in disease proceed,
Rather by what they know, than what they read.

98

Next after comes that Politicke Philosophie,
Whose proper obiects, forme and matters are;
In which she oft corrupts her mystery,
By grounding Orders offices too farre
On precepts of the heathen, humours of Kings,
Customes of men, and times vnconstant wings.

99

Besides, what can be certaine in those Arts,
Which cannot yeeld a generall proposition,
To force their bodies out of natiue parts?
But like things of Mechanicall condition,
Must borrow that wherewith they doe conclude,
And so not perfect Nature, but delude.

179

100

Redresse of which cannot come from below;
But from that Orbe, where power exalted raignes,
To order, iudge, to gouerne, and bestow
Sense, strength, and nourishment, through all the veines,
That equall limbes each other may supply,
To serue the Trophies of Authority.

101

Once in an age let Gouernment then pease
The course of these traditions, with their birth;
And bring them backe vnto their infant dayes,
To keepe her owne Soueraignity on earth;
Else viper-like, their parents they deuoure:
For all Powers children easily couet power.

102

Now for these instrumentall following Arts,
Which, in the trafficke of Humanity,
Afford not matter, but limme out the parts,
And formes of speaking with authority:
I say who too long in their cobwebs lurks,
Doth like him that buyes tooles, but neuer works.

103

For whosoeuer markes the good, or euill,
As they stand fixed in the heart of Man:
The one of God, the other of the deuill,
Feele, out of things, Men words still fashion can:
So that from life since liuely words proceed,
What other Grammar doe our natures need?

180

104

Logike comes next, who with the Tyranny
Of subtile rules, distinctions, termes, and notions,
Confounds of reall truth the harmony,
Distracts the iudgement, multiplies commotion
In memory, mans wit, imagination,
To dimme the cleare light of his own creation.

105

Hence striue the Schooles, by first, and second kinds
Of substances, by essence, and existence,
That Trine, and yet Vnitednesse diuine
To comprehend, and image to the sense;
As doe the misled superstitious minds,
By this one rule, or Axiom taken thence;
Looke where the Whole is, there the Parts must be,
Thinke they demonstrate Christs vbiquity.

106

The wise reformers therefore of this Art
Must cut off termes, distinctions, axioms, lawes,
Such as depend either in whole, or part,
Vpon this stained sense of words, or sawes:
Onely admitting precepts of such kinde,
As without words may be conceiu'd in minde.

107

Rhetorike, to this a sister, and a twinne,
Is growne a Siren in the formes of pleading,
Captiuing reason, with the painted skinne
Of many words; with empty sounds misleading
Vs to false ends, by these false forms abuse,
Brings neuer forth that Truth, whose name they vse.

181

108

Besides, this Art, where scarcity of words
Forc'd her, at first, to Metaphorike wings,
Because no Language in the earth affords
Sufficient Characters to expresse all things;
Yet since, she playes the wanton with this need,
And staines the Matrone with the Harlots weed.

109

Whereas those words in euery tongue are best,
Which doe most properly expresse the thought;
For as of pictures, which should manifest
The life, we say not that is fineliest wrought,
Which fairest simply showes, but faire and like:
So words must sparkes be of those fires they strike.

110

For the true Art of Eloquence indeed
Is not this craft of words, but formes of speech,
Such as from liuing wisdomes doe proceed;
Whose ends are not to flatter, or beseech,
Insinuate, or perswade, but to declare
What things in Nature good, or euill are.

111

Poesie and Musicke, Arts of Recreation,
Succeed, esteem'd as idle mens profession;
Because their scope, being meerely contentation,
Can moue, but not remoue, or make impression
Really, either to enrich the Wit,
Or, which is lesse, to mend our states by it.

182

112

This makes the solid Iudgements giue them place,
Onely as pleasing sauce to dainty food;
Fine foyles for iewels, or enammels grace,
Cast vpon things which in themselues are good;
Since, if the matter be in Nature vile,
How can it be made pretious by a stile?

113

Yet in this Life, both these play noble parts;
The one, to outward Church-rites if applied,
Helps to moue thoughts, while God may touch the hearts
With goodnesse, wherein he is magnified:
And if to Mars we dedicate this Art,
It raiseth passions which enlarge the minde,
And keepes downe passions of the baser kinde.

114

The other twinne, if to describe, or praise
Goodnesse, or God she her Ideas frame,
And like a Maker, her creations raise
On lines of truth, it beautifies the same;
And while it seemeth onely but to please,
Teacheth vs order vnder pleasures name;
Which in a glasse, shows Nature how to fashion
Her selfe againe, by ballancing of passion.

115

Let therefore humane Wisedome vse both these,
As things not pretious in their proper kind;
The one a harmony to moue, and please;
If studied for it selfe, disease of mind:
The next (like Nature) doth Ideas raise,
Teaches, and makes; but hath no power to binde:
Both, ornaments to life and other Arts,
Whiles they doe serve, and not possesse our hearts.

183

116

The grace, and disgrace of this following traine,
Arithmetike, Geometrie, Astronomy,
Rests in the Artisans industrie, or veine,
Not in the Whole, the Parts, or Symmetrie:
Which being onely Number, Measure, Time,
All following Nature, helpe her to refine.

117

And of these Arts it may be said againe,
That since their Theoricke is infinite;
Of infinite there can no Arts remaine.
Besides, they stand by curtesie, not right;
Who must their principles as granted craue,
Or else acknowledge they no being haue.

118

Their Theoricke then must not waine their vse,
But, by a practise in materiall things,
Rather awake that dreaming vaine abuse
Of Lines, without breadth; without feathers, wings:
So that their boundlesnesse may bounded be,
In Workes, and Arts of our Humanity.

119

But for the most part those Professors are
So melted, and transported into these;
And with the Abstract swallowed up so farre
As they lose trafficke, comfort, vse, and ease:
And are, like treasures with strange spirits guarded,
Neither to be enioy'd, nor yet discarded.

184

120

Then must the reformation of them be,
By carrying on the vigor of them all,
Through each profession of Humanity,
Military, and mysteries Mechanicall:
Whereby their abstract formes yet atomis'd,
May be embodied; and by doing pris'd.

121

As for example; Buildings of all kinds;
Ships, Houses, Halls, for humane policy;
Camps, Bulwarkes, Forts, all instruments of Warre;
Surueying, Nauigation, Husbandry,
Trafficke, Exchange, Accompts, & all such other,
As, like good children, do aduance their mother.

122

For thus, these Arts passe, whence they came, to life,
Circle not round in selfe-imagination,
Begetting Lines upon an abstract wife,
As children borne for idle contemplation;
But in the practise of mans wisedome giue,
Meanes, for the Worlds inhabitants to liue.

123

Lastly, the vse of all vnlawfull Arts
Is maine abuse; whose acts, and contemplation,
Equally founded vpon crased parts,
Are onely to be cur'd by extirpation:
The rule being true, that What at first is ill,
Grow worse by vse, or by refining will.

185

124

Now as the Bullion, which in all Estates,
The standard beares of Soueraignity;
Although allaid by characters, or rates
Moulded in wisedome, or necessitie,
Gets credit by the stampe, aboue his worth,
To buy, or sell; bring home, or carry forth:

125

Eu'n so, in these corrupted moulds of Art,
Which while they doe conforme, reforme vs not;
If all the false infections they impart
Be shadowed thus, thus formally be wrought;
Though what works goodnesse, onely makes men wise;
Yet Power thus mask'd may finely tyrannize.

126

And let this serue to make all People see,
The vanity is crafty, but not wise;
Chance, or occasion her prosperitie,
And but aduantage in her head, no eyes:
Truth is no Counsellor to assist the euill,
And in his owne, who wiser than the deuill?

127

In which corrupt confusion let vs leaue
The vanity, with her Sophistications;
Deceiu'd by that wherwith she would deceiue,
Paying, and paid with vaine imaginations;
Changing, corrupting, trading hope, and feare,
Instead of vertues, which she cannot beare.

186

128

And so returne to those pure, humble Creatures,
Who if they haue a latitude in any
Of all these vaine, traducing, humane features,
Where, out of one root doe proceed so many;
They must be sparing, few, and onely such,
As helpe Obedience, stirre not pride too much:

129

For in the world, not of it, since they be;
Like Passengers, their ends must be to take
Onely those blessings of Mortality,
Which he that made all, fashion'd for their sake:
Not fixing loue, hope, sorrow, care, or feare,
On mortall blossoms, which must dye to beare.

130

With many linkes, an equall glorious chaine
Of hopes eternall those pure people frame;
Yet but one forme, and metall it containes,
Reason, and Passion, being there the same:
Which well-linck't chaine they fixe vnto the sky,
Not to draw heauen downe, but earth vp by.

131

Their Arts, Laws, Wisedome, Acts, Ends, Honors being
All stamp'd and moulded in th' Eternall breast;
Beyond which truth, what can be worth their seeing,
That as false wisedomes all things else detest?
Wherby their workes are rather great than many,
More than to know, and doe, they haue not any.

187

132

For earth, and earthynesse it is alone,
Which enuies, strives, hates, or is malecontent;
Which Meteors vanish must from this cleare zone,
Where each thought is on his Creator bent;
And where both Kings and People should aspire,
To fix all other motions of desire.

133

Hence haue they latitudes, wherein they may
Study Sea, Skie, Ayre, Earth, as they enioy them;
Contemplate the Creation, State, Decay
Of mortall things, in them that misimploy them:
Preserue the body to obey the minde,
Abhorre the error, yet loue Humane kinde.

134

Salomon knew Nature both in herbes, plants, beasts;
Vs'd then for health, for honour, pleasure, gaine;
Yet, that abundance few Crownes wel digest,
Let his example, and his booke maintaine:
Kings, who haue trauail'd through the Vanity,
Can best describe vs what her visions be.

135

For we in such Kings (as cleare Mirrors) see,
And reade the heauenly glory of the good;
All other Arts, which borne of euill bee,
By these are neither taught, nor vnderstood,
Who, in the wombe of Gods true Church their mother
Learne they that know him well, must know no other.

188

136

Which God this People worship in their King
And through obedience trauaile to perfection;
Studying their wills vnder his will to bring,
Yeeld trust, and honour both, to his direction:
And when they doe from his example swarue,
Beare witnesse to themselues they ill deserue.

137

Since Goodnesse, Wisedome, Truth, then ioyn'd in one,
Shew Kings, and People, what the glories be
Of mutuall duties, to make up a Throne,
And weaue protection in humility:
Where else to rockes when men doe fasten chaines,
Their labors onely draw themselves to paines.

138

Now, if this wisedome onely can be found,
By seeking God, euen in the Faith he giues;
If earth, heauen, sea, starres, creatures be the bound,
Wherein reueal'd his power, and wisedome liues,
If true obedience be the way to this,
And onely who growes better, wiser is:

139

Then let not curious, silly Flesh conceiue
It selfe more rich, or happy when it knowes
These words of Art, which men (as shells) must cleave,
Before the lifes true wisedome they disclose;
Nor when they know to teach, they know not what,
But when their doings men may wonder at.

189

140

For onely that man vnderstands indeed,
And well remembers, which he well can doe;
The Laws liue, onely where the Law doth breed
Obedience to the workes it bindes vs to:
And as the life of Wisedome hath exprest,
If this you know, then doe it, and be blest.

141

Againe, the vse of Knowledge is not strife,
To contradict, and Criticall become,
As well in bookes, as practise of our life;
Which yeelds dissoluing, not a building doome;
A cobwebs worke, the thinnest fruit of wit,
Like Atomi, things reall seeme to it.

142

But as to Warre the error is one end,
So is her worthiest to maintaine the right;
Not to make question, cavill or contend,
Dazell the earth with visions infinite;
But nurse the World with charitable food,
Which none can doe that are not wise, and good.

143

The chiefe Vse then in man of that he knowes,
Is his paines taking for the good of all,
Not fleshly weeping for our owne made woes,
Not laughing from a Melancholy gall,
Not hating from a soule that ouerflowes
With bitternesse, breath'd out from inward thrall:
But sweetly rather to ease, loose, or binde,
As need requires, this fraile fall'n humane kinde.

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144

Yet Some seeke knowledge, meerely but to know,
And idle Curiositie that is;
Some but to sell, not freely to bestow,
These gaine and spend both time, and wealth amisse;
Embasing Arts, by basely deeming so:
Some to be knowne, and vanity is this:
Some to build others, which is Charity;
But these to build themselues, who wise men be.

145

And to conclude, whether we would erect
Our selves, or others by this choice of Arts;
Our chiefe endeauour must be to effect
A sound foundation, not on sandy parts
Of light Opinion, Selfenesse, Words of men,
But that sure rocke of truth; Gods Word, or Penne.

146

Next that we doe not ouerbuild our states,
In searching secrets of the Deity,
Obscurities of Nature, casualtie of Fates;
But measure first our own Humanity;
Then on our gifts impose an equall rate,
And so seeke wisedome with sobriety:
Not curious what our fellowes ought to doe,
But what our owne creation bindes vs to.

147

Lastly, we must not to the world erect
Theaters, nor plant our Paradise in dust,
Nor build vp Babels for the Diuels elect;
Make temples of our hearts to God we must;
And then, as Godlesse wisedomes follies be,
So are his lights our true Philosophie.

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148

With which faire cautions, Man may well professe
To studie God, whom he is borne to serve;
Nature, t'admire the greater in the lesse;
Time, but to learne; Our selues we may obserue,
To humble vs: Others, to exercise
Our loue and patience, wherein Duty lies.

149

Lastly, the truth and good to loue, and doe them;
The error, onely to destroy, and shunne it;
Our hearts in generall will lead vs to them,
When gifts of Grace, and Faith haue once begun it.
For without these, the minde of man growes numbe,
The body darkenesse, to the soule a tombe.

150

Thus are true Learnings in the humble heart
A Spirituall worke, raising Gods Image, rased
By our transgression; a well-framed art,
At which the world, and error stand amazed;
A Light diuine, where man sees ioy, and smart
Immortall, in this mortall body blazed;
A wisdome, which the Wisedome vs assureth
With hers euen to the sight of God endureth.

151

Hard Characters (I grant) to flesh and blood,
Which in the first perfection of creation
Freely resign'd the state of being good,
To know the euill, where it found priuation;
And lost her being, ere she vnderstood
Depth of this fall, paine of Regeneration:
By which she yet must raise herselfe againe,
Ere she can iudge all other knowledge vaine.

192

AN INQVISITION VPON FAME AND HONOVR

1

What are Mens liues, but labyrinths of error,
Shops of deceit, and Seas of misery?
Yet Death yeelds so small comfort, so much terror;
Gaine, Honour, Pleasure, such illusions be;
As though against life, each man whet his wit,
Yet all Mens hearts, and sense, take part with it.

2

Of which three baytes, yet Honour seemes the chiefe,
And is vnto the world, like goodly weather,
Which giues the spirits life, the thoughts reliefe,
Delight, and trauell reconciles together:
So as the Learn'd, and Great, no more admire it,
Then euen the silly Artisans aspire it.

3

This made the foure rare masters, which begun
Faire Artemysia's husbands dainty tombe,
When death tooke her, before their worke was done,
And so bereft them of all hopes to come;
That they would yet their own work perfect make,
Euen for their workes, and their selfe-glories sake.

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4

Among the Worthies, Hercules is noted,
For Fame, to haue neglected Gaine, and Pleasure;
Cleombrotus to haue beene so deuoted
To pease his deeds by her nice weights and measure,
As he, that to his state made his life thrall,
Yet to saue both, would not let Honour fall.

5

Which great desire, hatch'd vp in these vast Spirits,
Liues as a relicke of Mans discreation;
When he affected to be Iudge of merits;
Or eccho, which giues all Sounds moderation:
An image too sublime for Thrones to beare,
Who all what they command not, euer feare.

6

What was it then, made Aristotle raise
These imbound spirits to so high a rate?
Call them ingenious, ciuill, worthy praise?
The Answer's plaine, that neuer any State
Could rise, or stand, without this thirst of Glory,
Of noble workes, as well the mould as story.

7

For else, what Gouernour would spend his dayes,
In enuious trauell, for the publike good?
Who would in Bookes, search after dead mens wayes?
Or in the Warre, what Souldier lose his blood?
Liu'd not this Fame in clouds, kept as a crowne;
Both for the Sword, the Scepter, and the Gowne.

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8

It therefore much concernes each publike State,
To hoyse these costlesse sayles vp to the skye,
For it is held a symptome of ill fate,
When Crownes doe let this thirst of Glory dye;
Which doth enlarge States, by enlarging hearts,
And out of deedes teach Schooles to fashion Arts.

9

Thus see we, both the force, and vse of Fame;
How States and Men haue honour by her stile,
As Ecchoes that enuiron orders frame,
Which disproportion waiteth to beguile.
Fame walls in Truth, and cherisheth her end,
Knowes neither why, nor how, yet is her friend.

10

For in the worlds corrupted trafficke here,
Goodnesse puts onely tincture on our gall,
The light of Truth, doth but in clouds appeare,
Hardly discern'd, and not obey'd at all:
No man yeelds glory vnto him that makes him,
For if he doe, he sees the world forsakes him.

11

Now in this twilight of Deliberation,
Where Man is darke, because he will not see:
Must he not trust to his selfe-constellation?
Or else grow confident, he cannot be?
Assuming this, hee makes himselfe his end,
And what he vnderstands, that takes to friend.

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12

In which strange oddes, betweene the earth and skie,
Examine but the state of euery heart;
Flesh feeles and feares strong inequality;
Horrors of sinne cannot be free'd by art:
Humours are mans religion, Power his lawes,
His Wit confusion, and his Will the cause.

13

Nor is it thus, with Man himselfe alone.
His theaters, and trophies, are not free;
I mean all States, all Gouernments, all Thrones,
That haue no basis, but his Policy;
They all alike feele dissolution ready,
Their owne subsistence failing, and vnsteady.

14

Rebellion in the members to the head,
Aduantage in the head, to keepe them vnder,
The sweet consent of sympathie quite dead,
Selfenesse euen apt to teare it selfe asunder:
All Gouernments, like Man himselfe within,
Being restlesse compositions of the sinne.

15

So as in this estate of Mans defection,
Confus'd amongst the good, and ill, he goes;
Both gathers and distributeth infection,
Chuseth and changeth, builds and ouerthrows;
For Truth and Goodnesse, hauing left his heart,
He and his Idols are but words of Art.

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16

Among which number, men must reckon Fame,
Wit, Superstition, Learning, Lawes that binde,
Without our Maker, this worlds crased frame,
All which constraine, but not instruct the minde;
Gouerne the euils part, with her confusion,
Which haue no throne nor being, but delusion.

17

Then to cast faith on Fame, or these foundations,
Or not to thinke, as all these nothing were,
So backe to nothing, they shall haue gradation,
Since Time must ruine all that she did beare,
Were not to know these drams of mortall seed,
In curing one, still more diseases breed.

18

And yet to part this worlds declining frame,
And let some pillars stand while others fall,
I meane make Vertues bodies vnto Fame,
That be indeed hypocrisies of hell;
And smother Fame againe with Vertues name,
Must needs exile all hope of doing well:
God being vnbeleeued, or vnknowne,
And humane Wisdome with it selfe o'rethrown.

19

For to be good the world finds it too hard,
And to be nothing to subsistence is
A fatall, and unnaturing award;
So as betweene perfection, and vnblisse,
Man, out of man, will make himselfe a frame,
Seekes outward helpe, and borrowes that of Fame.

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20

Yet doth there rise from abstract contemplation,
A gilt or painted image in the braine,
Of humane vertues, Fames disestimation,
Which, like an Art, our nature so restraines,
As while the pride of action wee suppresse,
Man growes no better, and yet States grow lesse.

21

Hence they that by their words would Gods become,
With pride of thought depraue the pride of deeds,
Vpon the actiue cast a heauy doome,
And marre weake strengths, to multiply strong weeds:
While they conclude Fames trumpets, voice, and pen,
More fit for crafty States, than worthy Men.

22

For Fame they still oppose euen from those grounds,
That proue as truely all things else as vaine.
They giue their vertues onely humane bounds,
And without God subuert to build againe
Refin'd Ideas, more than flesh can beare,
All foule within, yet speake as God were there.

23

Mans power to make himselfe good, they maintaine:
Conclude that Fate is gouern'd by the wise;
Affections they supplant, and not restraine;
Within our selues, they seat Felicities;
With things as vaine, they vanity beat downe,
And by selfe-ruine, seeke a Sampsons crowne:

198

24

Glory's dispraise, being thus with glory tainted,
Doth not as goodnesse, but as euils doe
Shine, by informing others beauties painted,
Where bashfull Truth vayles neighbours errors too;
All humane pride is built on this foundation,
And Art on Art, by this seekes estimation.

25

Without his God, Man thus must wander euer,
See moates in others, in himselfe no beames,
Ill ruines good, and ill erecteth neuer,
Like drowning torrents, not transporting streames:
The vanity from nothing hath her being,
And makes that essence good, by disagreeing.

26

Yet from these grounds, if Fame wee ouerthrow,
We lose mans eccho, both of wrong and right;
Leaue good and ill, indifferent here below;
For humane darkenesse, lacking humane light,
Will easily cancell Natures feare of shame,
Which workes but by intelligence with Fame.

27

And cancell this, before Gods truth be knowne;
Or knowne, but not beleeued, and obeyed;
What seeming good rests in us of our owne?
How is corruption from corrupting staid?
The chaine of Vertues, which the flesh doth boast,
Being since our fall, but names of Natures lost.

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28

In humane commerce, then let Fame remaine,
An outward mirrour of the inward minde,
That what man yeelds, he may receiue againe,
And his ill doing, by ill hearing finde:
For then, though Power erre, though Lawes be lame,
And Conscience dead, yet ill auoyds not shame.

29

But let vs leaue these stormy orbs of passion,
Where humours onely ballance one another,
Making our trophies of a mortall fashion,
And vanity of euery act the mother;
For inward peace, being neuer wrought by Fame,
Proues mans worth is no Nature, but a name.

30

Therefore let this cleare streame, beare downe together
Fame, and Philosophie her slie opposer;
As hauing nothing of their owne in either,
Worthy to make each by the other loser:
Since if by Christian rules, their depths be taken,
The body and the shadow both are shaken.

31

For where the father of Philosophie,
Vpon the common vertues, but aboue,
Doth raise and build his Magnanimity,
A greatnesse not with little Fame in loue,
Hard to finde out, as Goodnesse is with vs,
And without Goodnesse, meere ridiculous:

200

32

Let Truth examine where this vertue liues,
And hold it vaine, if not produc'd in act;
Man is corrupt, and no perfection giues,
What euer in him others praise enact:
So as if Fame be vnto goodnesse due;
It onely can in God, be great and true:

33

For Mans chiefe vertue, is Humilitie;
True knowledge of his wants, his height of merit;
This pride of minde, this Magnanimity,
His greatest vice, his first seducing spirit;
With venimous infection of his fall,
To Serpent-like appearance euer thrall.

34

Further we vrge against this masters grounds,
That our first Adam, imag'd is to vs,
In that mixt pride, that worth-exceeding bounds,
Where on Schooles build their true Magnanimous:
Since to be like his Maker he affected,
And being lesse still thought himselfe neglected.

35

Which spirituall pride (no doubt) possesseth still
All fleshly hearts, where thirst of Honour raues,
For sit vpon the seat of God they will,
As did those Princes, who in stead of graues
Made Idols, Altars, Temples to be rais'd,
Wherein, like gods, they were ador'd and prais'd.

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36

And such againe, hath Gods seene Church brought forth,
As doe in Peters chaire Gods power assume:
Such was Menecrates of little worth,
Who Ioue, the Sauiour, to be call'd presum'd,
To whom of incense Phillip made a feast,
And gaue pride scorne and hunger to digest.

37

Againe, to take the true Anatomy
Of these, and search in life what sure foundation
For humane good, or greatnesses there be,
In all the swelling stiles of Ostentation;
What hopes they promise, on what grounds they build,
What pain they ask, & then what fruit they yeeld.

38

Wee shall discerne the roote of this Ambition
To be conceipt, that glory doth containe
Some supernaturall sparke, or apparition,
More than the common humour can attaine:
Since to be reuerenc'd, lou'd, obey'd, and knowne,
Man must effect, with powers aboue his owne.

39

Ah silly Creature, curst Mortality!
What canst thou know, that knowest not Mans estate
To be but Vice, gilt with hypocrisie;
Which doth the life it most resembles, hate,
And yet affects that cleare vnshadow'd light,
Wherein her darke deformities show bright?

202

40

So that for thee to passe the piercing eyes,
Light tongues, and listning eares of curious Fame,
Where to vse trafficke to thy preiudice,
As with a trumpet publishing thy shame;
Which all but fooles, who know their own hearts least,
Rather seeke to conceale, than manifest.

41

Besides, to be well knowne finds out oppressors,
By which the World still honours thee the lesse;
For who be throughly knowne, are euer loosers,
If Fame belye not Mans vnworthinesse,
Where to the iust, in thought, as well as deede,
What other trumpet doth the Conscience neede?

42

Yet in Mans youth, perchance, Fame multiplies
Courage, and actiue vnderstandingnesse,
Which cooles in Age, and in experience dyes,
Like Fancies smoke, Opinions wantonnesse:
Yet who knowes, whether old age qualifies
This thirst of Fame, with vnderstandingnesse,
With selfe-despaire, or disabilities?
Whether experience, which makes Fame seeme lesse,
Be wit, or feare, from narrownesse arising,
True noblenesse as none of these despising?

43

Neuerthelesse fraile Man doth still aspire
Vnto this welbeleeuing reuerence,
As helpes, to raise his masked errors higher,
And so by great improuements in the sense,
Extend Mankind unto the bounds of praise,
Farre aboue Order, Law, and Duties wayes.

203

44

Or if this reuerence be not the fire,
Wherein Mankind affects to mould his state;
Then is it loue which they by Fame aspire,
An imposition of the highest rate
Set upon people, by their owne desire,
Not making Powers, but Natures magistrate:
Whether in people, worth, or chance worke this,
Is knowne to them, that know what Mankind is.

45

For true to whom are they, that are vntrue
To God, and nothing seriously intend,
But tumult, fury, fancy, hope of new?
Neuer all pleas'd with Ioue, if he descend;
Vnconstant, like confusion in a minde,
Not knowing why it hates, nor why 'tis kinde.

46

To proue this by example, take Camillus,
Scipio, Solon, Metellus, Aristides,
Themistocles, Lycurgus, or Rutillius,
And by their change of humors toward these,
Let vs conclude, All people are vniust,
And ill affections end in malice must.

47

Besides, the essence of this glorious name,
Is not in him that hath, but him that giues it:
If people onely then distribute Fame,
In them that vnderstand it not, yet liues it:
And what can their applause within vs raise,
Who are not conscious of that worth they praise?

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48

Nor is it by the Vulgar altogether,
That Fame thus growes a wonder of nine dayes;
The wise and learned plucke away her feathers,
With enuious humors, and opposing wayes:
For they depraue each other, and descrie,
Those staues, and beards, these Augurs traffick by.

49

Plato (tis true) great Homer doth commend,
Yet from his Common-weale did him exile;
Nor is it words that doe with words contend,
Of deeds they vary, and demurre of stile:
How to please all, as no words yet could tell;
So what one act did all yet censure well?

50

For proofe, what worke more for the publike good,
Than that rare Librarie of dead mens treasure,
Collected by the Ægyptian royall blood?
Which Seneca yet censures at his pleasure;
No elegance, nor princely industry,
But rather pompe, and studious luxury.

51

Nay, his owne ephithete Studious, he corrected,
Inferring that for pride, not Studies vse,
The luxurie of Kings had them collected:
So what in scorne of Criticall abuse,
Was said of bookes, of Fame will proue the state,
That Readers censures are the Writers fate.

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52

Thus show our liues, what Fame and Honour be,
Considered in themselves, or them that gaue them;
Now there remaines a Curiosity,
To know euen what they are, to those that haue them:
Namely vnordinate to get or vse,
Difficult to keepe, and desperate to lose.

53

And for the first, if Fame a monster be,
As Virgil doth describe her, then she must
Come from a monstrous birth and progenie:
And if she be the child of Peoples lust,
Then must she (without doubt) be basely borne,
And, like her parents, neuer vniforme.

54

For what indeed more monstrous, or more base,
Than these Chimera's of distempered mindes,
Borne of Opinion, not of Vertues race,
From whence it growes, that these Fame-hunting kindes,
Proue like those Woers, which the Mistris sought,
Yet basely fell, and with the Maids grew naught.

55

They walke not simply good, or euill waies,
But feete of numbers, none of which returne;
As Polypus with stones, so they with praise,
Change colours, and like Proteus their forme,
Following the Peoples lust, who, like their clothes,
Still shift conceit of truth and goodnesse both.

206

56

These honour none, but such as boast their pride,
And ready heads for all times humours be;
So as not eminent vertue is the tide
Which carries Fame, but swolne iniquity:
What shall wee iudge of Sylla and Marius then?
But Satyrs, Centaures, demi-beasts and men.

57

Such as false glory sought by being head
Of the Patrician, or Plebeian faction;
By which that Mistresse State was ruined,
Diuision euer bringing in contraction;
Among the learn'd so Epicurus wan
His Fame, by making Pleasure God of man.

58

Diogenes by mockes, Heraclitus by teares,
Democritus by smiles; and by such ladders climes
Each Sect and Heresie, to Honours spheares,
With new opinions, in misguided times,
Subuerting nature, grace, ciuillity,
By scandalous, satyricall scurrility.

59

Thus Aretine of late got reputation,
By scourging Kings, as Lucian did of old
By scorning Gods, with their due adoration;
And therefore to conclude, we may be bold,
That Peoples loue with euill acts is wonne,
And either lost, or kept, as it begunne.

207

60

What winde then blowes poore Man into this sea,
But Pride of heart, and Singularity?
Which weary of true vertues humble way,
And not enduring Mans equality,
Seeketh by Wit, or Sophistry to rise;
And with good words, put off ill merchandise.

61

Of which Ambitions, time obserues three kindes:
Whereof the first, and least vnnaturall
Is, when fraile man some good in himselfe findes;
But ouer-priz'd; defects, not peas'd at all:
Like Bankrupts, who in auditing their States,
Of debts, and of expence forget the rates.

62

And of these Solons fooles, who their owne wants
Cannot discerne, if there were not too many,
Our inward frailties easily would supplant
Outward ambitions, and not suffer any
To vsurpe those swelling stiles of Domination,
Which are the Godheads true denomination.

63

The second wee may terme politicall,
Which value men by place, and not by worth,
Not wisely, thinking we be Counters all,
Which but the summes of Gouernment set forth:
Wherein, euen those that are the highest placed,
Not to their owne, but others ends are graced.

208

64

So that from Pharoahs Court to Iethros Cell,
If men with Moyses could their hearts retire,
In Honour they should enuilesse excell,
And by an equall ballance of desire,
Liue free from clouds of humane hope, and feare,
Whose troubled circles oft strange Meteors beare.

65

The last sort is, that popular vaine pride,
Which neither standeth vpon worth nor place,
But to applause, and selfe-opinion ty'd,
Like Esops Iay, whom others feathers grace,
Himselfe as good, and glorious esteemeth,
As in the glasse of Flattery he seemeth.

66

This makes him fond of Praise, that knows it lyes;
The cruell tyrant thinkes his grace renown'd,
Euen while the earth with guiltlesse bloud he dyes;
And his Magnificence, euen then resound
When he doth rauine all before his eyes:
Of which vaine minds, it may be truly said,
Who loue false praise, of false scornes are afraid.

67

Besides, as this Ambition hath no bound;
So grows it proud, and instantly vniust,
Enforcing short-breath'd Fame aloud to sound,
By pardoning debts, and by defrauding trust;
Whence the Agrarian mandates had their grounds,
As all veiles else, that couer Soueraigne lust:
For fire and People doe in this agree,
They both good Seruants, both ill Masters be.

209

68

Thus we discerne what courses they must hold,
That make this humour of applause their end:
They haue no true, and so no constant mould;
Light Change is both their enemy and friend:
Herostratus shall proue, Vice gouernes Fame;
Who built that Church, he burnt, hath lost his name.

69

Yet when this brittle Glory thus is gotten,
The keeping is as painefull, more confuse:
Fame liues by doing, is with rest forgotten,
Shee those that would enioy her doth refuse:
Wooed (like a Lais) will be and obseru'd;
Euer ill kept, since neuer well deseru'd.

70

And if true Fame with such great paine be wonne,
Wonne, and preseru'd, of false what can we hope?
Since Ill with greater cost than good is done:
Againe, what hath lesse Latitude or scope
To keep, than that which euery Change bereaues,
That time, Mans own heart, or the world receiues?

71

Lastly, this Fame hard gotten, worse to keepe,
Is neuer lost, but with despaire, and shame,
Which makes Mans nature, once fallen from this steepe,
Disdaine their being should out-last their name:
Some in self-pitty, some in exile languish,
Others rebell, some kill themselues in anguish.

210

72

Like Relatiues, thus stand the World and Fame,
Twinnes of one wombe, that lose, or win together;
With Vulcan's nets they catch each others shame,
Diuide with God, and so are losers euer;
Alone they are but Nothings, well disguis'd,
And if compar'd, more worthily despis'd.

73

But now I heare the voice of Power, and Art,
A fatall dissolution straight proclaime,
Closely to be inweau'd in euery heart,
By vndermining thus the World, and Fame;
For wound Fame in the world, the world in it,
They aske whats left to stir vp humane Wit.

74

Are God, Religion, Vertue, then but name,
Or need these heauenly beings earthly aid,
To gouerne vnder, as aboue this frame?
Must good Mens deeds, with ill Mens words be payd?
When we are dead, is merit dead with vs?
Shall breath determine God, and Vertue thus?

75

Some Schooles made Fame a Shadow, some a Debt
To vertue, some a Handmaid, none her end:
For like a God, she others striues to get,
Affects no honour, needs nor fame, nor friend:
Moued, shee moues man to adore her mouer,
And onely giues her selfe to those that loue her.

211

76

Hence did the Romans, Mountebankes of Fame,
Build Fame, and Vertue temples, so in one,
As thorough Vertue all men to it came,
Yet vnto Vertue, men might passe alone;
Expressing Fame a consequence, no cause,
A power that speakes, not knowing by what lawes.

77

But let true wisedome carry vp our eyes,
To see how all true vertues figured bee,
Angel-like, passing to and from the skies,
By Israels ladder, whose two ends are free
Of Heauen, and Earth; to carry vp, and downe,
Those pure souls, which the Godhead means to crowne.

78

And if you aske them, whether their pure wings,
Be charrets, to beare vp those fleshly prides
Of Crowne-rooft Miters, Church-unroofing Kings,
Conquest and Fame, whose ebbe, and flowing tides,
Bring forth diuiding tytles, captiu'd lawes,
Of Mans distresse, and ignorance the cause?

79

These Vertues answer, they be powers diuine;
Their heauen, faith; obiect, eternity:
Deuised in earth, those ruines to refine,
Vnder whose weight our Natures buried lye;
Faith making Reason perfect, as before
It fell, for lacke of faith, beleeuing more.

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80

Abcees they are, which doe vnteach againe
That knowledge, which first taught vs not to know
The happy state, wherein we did remaine,
When we for lacke of euill, thought not so;
New making Paradise, where we began,
Not in a garden, but the heart of Man.

81

And as to Serpents, which put off their skinne,
Nature renewes a naturall complexion,
So when the goodnesse doth vncase the sinne,
Health so renewed can neuer take infection:
The World inchants not, Hell hath lost her might,
For what mist can eclipse the Infinite?

82

Which pure reflexions, what dimme eye can see,
And after either World, or Fame admire?
Comparison expels the vanitie;
Immortall here, is obiect of desire:
Nature abhorres this supernaturall,
And scorn'd of flesh, as God is, they be all.

83

Yet hath the goodnesse this of Infinite,
That they who hate it, praise; who hurt it, feare;
Who striue to shadow, help to show her light;
Her rootes, not Fame, but loue, and wonder beare.
God, that to passe, will haue his Iustice come,
Makes sin the Thiefe, the Hangman, & the doom.

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84

These wooe not, but command the voice of Fame,
For liue they, dye they, labour they, or rest,
Such glorious lights are imag'd in their frame,
As Nature feeles not, Art hath not exprest:
All what the world admires comes from within;
A doome, whereby the sinne, condemnes the sinne.

85

Then make the summe of our Ideas this,
Who loue the world, giue latitude to Fame,
And this Man-pleasing, Gods displeasing is;
Who loue their God, haue glory by his name:
But fixe on Truth, who can, that know it not?
Who fixe on error, doe but write to blot.

86

Who worship Fame, commit Idolatry,
Make Men their God, Fortune and Time their worth,
Forme, but reforme not; meer hypocrisie,
By shadowes, onely shadowes bringing forth,
Which must, as blossomes, fade ere true fruit springs,
Like voice, and eccho ioyn'd, yet diuers things.

214

A TREATIE OF WARRES

1

Peace is the haruest of Mans rich creation,
Where Wit and Paine haue scope to sow, and reape
The minde, by Arts, to worke her eleuation;
Care is sold deare, and Sloth is neuer cheape,
Beyond the intent of Nature it proues
The earth, and fruitfull industry it loues.

2

Vnder the ground concealements it discouers;
It doth giue forme, and matter multiply;
Her arts beget on Nature like a louer;
But for increase, no seeds within her dye:
Exchange, the language is she speakes to all;
Yet least confusion feeles of Babels fall.

3

Seas yeeld their fish, and Wildernesse their woods,
Foules for her food, and feathers for her pleasure,
Beasts yeeld their labour, fleeces, flesh, and blouds,
The Elements become her seruants, and her treasure;
To her alone, God made no Creature vaine,
No power, but Need, is idle in her raigne.

4

When she hath wrought on earth, she Man improues,
A shop of Arts, a rich and endlesse mine,
Workes by his labour, wit, his feare, and loue,
And in refining him, all else refines;
Nature yeelds but the matter, Man the forme,
Which makes the world a manifold returne.

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5

His good, and ill, his need, and vanity,
Both sets himselfe a-worke, and others too;
Trades, and exchangeth our humanity;
Her Marts are more than Lawes, to make men doe;
Nature brings nothing forth that is not wrought,
And Art workes nothing on her but is bought.

6

If Peace be such, what must we thinke of Warre,
But Horrour from aboue, below Confusion,
Where the vnhappy onely happy are,
As making mischiefe euer her conclusion;
Scourges of God, figures of hell to come,
Of vanity, a vaine, infamous tombe.

7

Where neither Throne, nor Crowne haue reuerence,
Sentence, nor Writ, nor Sergeant be in fashion;
All terror scorn'd, of guiltinesse no sense;
A Discipline whereof the rule is Passion:
And as mens vices, beasts chiefe vertues are,
So be the shames of Peace, the Pride of Warre.

8

Here Northerne bodies vanquish Southerne wit,
Greeke Sciences obey the Romane pride,
Order serues both to saue, and kill with it,
Wisdome to ruine onely is apply'd:
Fame, Worth, Religion, all doe but assure,
Vain Man, which way to giue wounds, and endure.

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9

And when the reines of humane hope and feare,
Are thus laid on our neckes, and order chang'd,
Pride will no more the yoke of heauen beare,
Nor our desires in any bounds be rang'd;
The world must take new forms of wrong and right,
For Warre did neuer loue things definite.

10

Here Bookes are burnt, faire monuments of minde,
Here Ignorance doth on all Arts tyrannise,
Vertue no other mould but Courage findes,
All other being in her being dyes;
Wisdome of times grows infancy againe,
Beasts rule in man, and men doe beastly raigne.

11

Audit the end: how can Humanity
Preserved be in ruine of Mankinde?
Both Feare, and Courage feele her cruelty,
The good, and bad, like fatall ruine finde:
Her enemies doe still prouide her food,
From those she ruines, she receiues her good.

12

Was not this Mars then Mauors rightly nam'd?
That in one instant all thus ouerthrowes?
Or can the Poets heauy doome be blam'd,
Who censures, these Forge-masters of our woes,
To haue no kinsman, right, or habitation,
But multiply themselues by desolation?

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13

Yet since the Earths first age brought Giants forth,
Greatnesse for good hath so past euery where,
As euen this cloud, of Giant-making worth,
Proudly the stile of Fame, and Honour beares;
Kings are her creatures, so is vertue too,
And beings take, from what the valiant doe.

14

Thus did vaine Nimrod, (that Man-hunting beast)
Raise vp the first God-scorning Monarchy:
And from the Warre ev'n so sprang vp the rest,
That by aduantage change equality:
So as those Princes, still most famous are,
Which staine most earth, with humane blood in Warre.

15

The ground which makes most States thus fond of Warre,
Is, that with armes all Empires doe increase:
But marke what's next, with armes they ruin'd are:
For when Men feele the health, and blisse of peace,
They cannot rest, nor know they other Art,
But that wherein themselues, and others smart.

16

Now when the policies of great Estates,
Doe Mars professe, Religion then to warre
It selfe must fashion, and indure such rates,
As to the ends of Conquest proper are;
This made the Greeks paint all their gods in armes,
As friends of mans selfe-hazard to doe harmes.

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17

Such the Religion is of Mahomet,
His doctrine, onely warre, and hazard teaching,
His Discipline, not how to vse, but get,
His Court, a campe, the Law of Sword his Preaching:
Vertues of peace, he holds effeminate,
And doth, as vices, banish them his State.

18

And though the Christians Gospell, with them be
Esteem'd the ioyfull embassie of peace,
Yet he that doth pretend supremacy,
Vpon their Church, lets not contention cease;
But with opinions stirres vp Kings to Warre,
And names them Martyrs, that his furies are.

19

And vnto Armes, to multiply deuotion,
Calls that Land holy, which by God is curst;
Disturbes the Churches peace, stirres vp commotion,
And as (with drinking Christian blood) a-thirst,
From desolation striues to set that free,
Whose seruitude stands fixt in Gods decree.

20

Thus see we, how these vgly furious spirits,
Of Warre, are cloth'd, colour'd, and disguis'd,
With stiles of Vertue, Honour, Zeale, and Merits,
Whose owne complexion, well Anatomis'd,
A mixture is of Pride, Rage, Auarice,
Ambition, Lust, and euery tragicke vice.

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21

Some loue no Equals, some Superiours scorne,
One seekes more worlds, and he will Helene haue,
This couets gold, with diuers faces borne;
These humours reigne, and lead men to their graue:
Whereby for bayes, and little wages, we
Ruine our selues, to raise vp Tyranny.

22

And as when Winds among themselues doe iarre,
Seas there are tost, and waue with waue must fight:
So when powr's restlesse humours bring forth Warre,
There people beare the faults, and wounds of Might:
The error, and diseases of the head
Descending still, vntill the limmes be dead.

23

Yet are not Peoples errors euer free
From guilt of wounds they suffer by the Warre;
Neuer did any Publike misery
Rise of it selfe; Gods plagues still grounded are
On common staines of our Humanity:
And to the flame, which ruineth Mankind,
Man giues the matter, or at least giues wind.

24

Nor are these people carried into blood
Onely, and still with violent giddy passion,
But in our Nature, rightly vnderstood,
Rebellion liues, still striuing to disfashion
Order, Authority, Lawes, any good,
That should restraine our liberty of pleasure,
Bound our designes, or giue desire a measure.

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25

So that in Man the humour radicall
Of Violence, is a swelling of desire;
To get that freedome, captiu'd by his fall;
Which yet falls more be striuing to clime higher:
Men would be Tyrants, Tyrants would be Gods,
Thus they become our scourges, we their rods.

26

Now this conclusion from these grounds we take,
That by our fall, wee did Gods image leaue,
Whose power and nature is to saue and make,
And from the Deuils image we receiue
This spirit, which stirres Mankind with man to warre
Which Deuils doe not; wherein worse we are.

27

For proofe; this very spirit of the Deuill,
Makes men more prompt, ingenious, earnest, free,
In all the workes of ruine, with the euill,
Than they in sauing with the goodnesse be;
Criticks vpon all writers, there are many;
Planters of truth, or knowledges not any.

28

How much more precious is the Satyr pen,
Momus or Mimus, than the Lyricke vaine,
Or Epicke image to the hearts of men?
And as in Learning, so in Life againe,
Of crafty Tyrants store, wise Kings scarce one,
Law-breakers many, and Law-makers none.

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29

Yea euen in Warre, the perfect type of hell;
See we not much more politicke celerity,
Diligence, courage, constancy excell,
Than in good Arts of peace or piety?
So worke we with the Deuill, he with vs;
And makes his haruest by our ruine thus.

30

Hence grew that Catapult in Sicil found,
This counterfeit of thunders firy breath,
Still multiplying forces to confound;
Allaying courage, yet refining death:
Engines of ruine, found out by the Deuill,
Who moues Warre, Fire, and Blood, all like him, euill.

31

Yet let us not forget that Hell, and hee,
Vnder the power of Heauen, both incline;
And if Physitians, in their art did see,
In each disease there was some sparke diuine:
Much more let vs the hand of God confesse,
In all these sufferings of our guiltinesse.

32

Hence great diseases, in great bodies bred,
Of States, and Kingdomes, often are foretold,
By Earthquakes, Comets, Births disfigured,
By Visions, Signes, and Prophesies of old:
Who the foure Monarchs change more clearly spake,
Than Daniel, long before they roote did take?

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33

The Scripture then assuredly saith true,
That Warre begins, from some offence diuine:
That God makes nation nation to subdue,
Who led his flocke to that rich promised Mine;
Not for their goodnesse, but euen for the sinne
The Canaanites and Amorites liu'd in.

34

Nor by the Warres doth God reuenge alone,
He sometimes tries, and trauelleth the good,
Sometimes againe, to haue his honor knowne,
He makes corne grow, where Troy it selfe once stood:
Lets Fate passe from him, on the wheeles of time,
And change to make the falling ballance clime.

35

For if one Kingdome should for euer flourish,
And there one family for euer raigne;
If Peace for euer should one People nourish;
Nobility, Authority, Prosperity, and Gaine,
As vnder Nature, keepe one fixed state,
And not endure vicissitudes of Fate;

36

God would in time seeme partiall vnto some,
To others cruell, and to all vniust;
His power despis'd, and Mans owne wit his doome,
Chance in his hands, change vnderneath his lust;
Superiours, still inferiours tyrannising;
Aduantage, more aduantages deuising.

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37

Till at the length, enormities of vice,
Lawes multiplicity, Prides luxuriousnesse,
Increase of people, leprous Auarice,
Arts sophistication, Traffique in excesse,
Opinions freedome, full of preiudice,
Curious noueltie; all faire weeds of Peace,
Would ruine Nature, and Men monsters make,
Weary the earth, and make her wombe not take.

38

Needfull it therefore is, and cleerely true,
That all great Empires, Cities, Seats of Power
Must rise and fall, waxe old, and not renew,
Some by disease, that from without deuour,
Others euen by disorders in them bred,
Seene onely, and discouer'd in the dead.

39

Among which are included secret hates,
Reuolts, displeasure, discord, ciuill warre;
All haue their growing, and declining states,
Which with time, place, occasion bounded are:
So as all Crownes now hope for that in vaine,
Which Rome (the Queen of Crowns) could not attaine.

40

This Change by Warre, enioyes her changing doome;
Irus grows rich, and Cræsus must wax poore,
One from a King shall Schoolemaster become,
And he made King, that wrought in Potters Oare;
They who commanded erst must now obey;
And Fame euen grow infamous in a day.

224

41

That by vicissitude of these translations,
And change of place, corruption, and excesse,
Craft ouerbuilding all degenerations,
Might be reduced to the first addresse
Of Natures Lawes, and Truths simplicity;
These planting worth, and worth authority.

42

All which best root, and spring in new foundations
Of States, or Kingdomes; and againe in age,
Or height of pride, and power feele declination;
Mortality is Changes proper stage:
States haue degrees, as humane bodies haue,
Springs, Summer, Autumne, Winter and the graue.

43

God then sends War, commotion, tumult, strife,
Like windes, and stormes, to purge the ayre and earth;
Disperse corruption; giue the World new life,
In the Vicissitude of creatures birth,
Which could not flourish, nor yeeld fruit againe,
Without returnes of heate, cold, drought & raine.

44

But further now the eternall Wisedome showes,
That though God doe preserue thus for a time,
This Equilibrium, wherein Nature goes,
By peasing humours, not to ouerclime,
Yet he both by the cure, and the disease,
Proues, Dissolution all at length must sease.

225

45

For surely, if it had beene Gods intent
To giue Man here eternally possession,
Earth had beene free from all misgouernment,
Warre, Malice, could not then haue had progresseion,
Man (as at first) had bin mans nursing brother,
And not, as since, One Wolfe unto another.

46

For onely this Antipathy of minde
Hath euer bin the bellowes of Sedition;
Where each man kindling one, inflames Mankind,
Till on the publike, they inflict perdition,
And as Man vnto Man, so State to State
Inspired is, with the venime of this hate.

47

And what doe all these mutinies include,
But dissolution first of Gouernment?
Then a dispeopling of the earth by feud,
As if our Maker to destroy vs meant?
For States are made of Men, and Men of dust,
The moulds are fraile, disease consume them must.

48

Now as the Warres proue mans mortality;
So doe the oppositions here below,
Of Elements, the contrariety
Of Constellations, which aboue doe show,
Of qualities in flesh, will in the spirits;
Principles of discord, not of concord made,
All proue God meant not Man should here inherit,
A time-made World, which with time should not fade;
But as Noes flood once drown'd woods, hils, & plain,
So should the fire of Christ waste all againe.

226

49

Thus see we both the causes and effects
Of Warre, and how these attributes to hap,
Councels of men, power, fame, which all affect,
Lye close reseru'd within th'Almighties lap:
Where fashion'd, order'd, and dispos'd they be,
To accomplish his infallible decree.

50

And from these grounds concluding as we doe,
Warres causes diuerse; so by consequence,
Diuerse we must conclude their natures too:
For Warre proceeding from the Omnipotence,
No doubt is holy, wise, and without error,
The sword of iustice, and of sinne the terror.

51

But Warres of Men, if we examine these
By piercing rules, of that steepe narrow way,
Which Christian soules must walke, that hope to raise
Their bodies from the earth another day:
Their life is death, their warre obedience,
Of crowns, fame, wrongs, they haue no other sense.

52

Then till to these God plainely hath exprest,
By Prophets Sawes, Wonder, and Angels sound,
That his Church-rebels hee will haue supprest;
Or giue his people other peoples ground;
They must preserue his Temples, not shed blood,
But where the Mouer makes the motion good.

227

53

Nay, euen these Warres though built on Piety,
They lawlesse hold, vnlesse by lawfull might
They vndertaken, and performed be;
For Natures order, euery creatures right,
Hath vnto peace ordain'd, that Princes should,
Of Warre the grounds, and execution mould.

54

Besides, the manner must haue charity,
First offering peace, which if disease distaste,
Yet wisdome guides the cure, not cruelty;
Art prunes the earth, confusion leaues it waste:
God would not haue men spoil what they may eat;
It feeds the Warre, and leaues a ground to treat.

55

What warrant then for all our Warres of glory,
Where Power and Wit do multiply their right,
By acts recorded, both in fame and story?
Are there not due prerogatiues of Might?
Or shall we by their dreames examine these,
That lose the world, they know not what to please?

56

Is not euen Age due oddes to euery Father,
From whence, we children owe them reuerence?
If he that hath latitude to gather,
Must he not yeeld, that cannot make defence?
Haue Subiects Lawes, to rectifie oppression?
And Princes wrongs no law but intercession?

228

57

Are there by Nature lords, and seruants too?
Was this world made indifferent to man?
Doe Power and Honour follow them that doe?
And yet are Kings restrain'd from what they can?
Gaue Nature other bounds of habitation,
Than strength, or weakenesse vnto euery nation?

58

Haue we not both of Policy, and Might,
Pregnant examples, euen in Israels seed?
First, how the Younger got the Elders right,
At easie rates, by well-obseruing need;
Then of his heauenly blessing him bereau'd,
Wherein the man, not God, that Eue deceiu'd.

59

Let vs then thus conclude, that onely they
Whose end in this World, is the World to come,
Whose hearts desire is, that their desires may
Measure themselues, by Truths eternall doome,
Can in the War find nothing that they prise,
Who in the world would not be great, or wise.

60

With these I say, Warre, Conquest, Honour, Fame,
Stand (as the World) neglected, or forsaken;
Like Errors cobwebs, in whose curious frame,
Fleshe onely ioyes, and mournes; takes, and is taken:
In which these dying, that to God liue thus,
Endure our conquests, would not conquer vs.

229

61

Where all States else that stand on Power, not Grace,
And gage desire by no such spirituall measure,
Make it their end to raigne in euery place;
To warre for Honour, for Reuenge and Pleasure;
Thinking the strong should keepe the weake in awe,
And euery Inequalitie giue Law.

62

These serue the World to rule her by her Arts,
Raise mortall trophies vpon mortall passion;
Their wealth, strength, glory growing from those hearts,
Which to their ends, they ruine and disfashion;
The more remote from God, the lesse remorse;
Which still giues Honor power, Occasion force.

63

These make the Sword their Iudge of wrong, and right,
Their story Fame, their laws but Power and Wit;
Their endlesse mine all vanities of Might;
Rewards and Paines the mystery of it,
And in this spheare, this wildernesse of euils,
None prosper highly, but the perfect diuels.

64

The Turkish Empire, thus grew vnto height,
Which, first in vnity, past others farre,
Their Church was meere collusion, and deceit,
Their Court a campe, their discipline a Warre;
With martiall hopes and feares, & shows diuine,
To hazard onely they did man refine.

230

65

Vpon the Christians hereby they preuail'd,
For they diuided stood, in Schisme and Sect,
Among themselues (assailing or assail'd)
Their vndertakings mixed with neglect:
Their Doctrine Peace, yet their Ambition War,
For to their own true Church they strangers are.

66

God and the World they worship still together,
Draw not their lawes to him, but his to theirs,
Vntrue to both, so prosperous in neither,
Amid their owne desires still raising feares:
Vnwise, as all distracted Powers be.
Strangers to God, fooles in humanitie.

67

Too good for great things, and too great for good;
Their Princes serue their Priest, yet that Priest is
Growne King, euen by the arts of flesh and bloud;
Blind Superstition hauing built vp this,
As knowing no more than it selfe can doe,
Which shop (for words) sells God & Empire too.

68

Thus waue we Christians still betwixt two aires;
Nor leaue the world for God, nor God for it;
While these Turkes climing vp vnited staires,
Aboue the Superstitions double wit,
Leaue vs as to the Iewish bondage heires,
A Saboth rest for selfe-confusion fit:
Since States will then leaue warre, when men begin
For Gods sake to abhorre this world of sinne.

FINIS