Skip directly to:Main content Main navigation

University of Virginia Library

Poems Divine, and Humane

By Thomas Beedome

Beedome, Thomas

collapse section

On the deceased Authour, Master Thomas Beedom, and his Poems.

On the death and Poems, of his most deare friend, Master Thomas Beedome.

On his deserving Friend, Master Thomas Beedom, and his Poems.

To his Friend the Author, Master Thomas Beedom before his death, on these his Poems.

To the Memory of his Ingenious friend, Master Thomas Beedom, and on these his Poems.

To the Memorie of his friend, Master Thomas Beedom. And upon his Poems.

On the Poems of his worthy friend, Master Thomas Beedom, the lately deceased Author.

On the Memory of his most Ingenious friend, Master Thomas Beedome, and his Poems.

Elegie, on his Ingenious friend, the deserving Author, Master Thomas Beedome.

Elegie on the death of his ingenious friend, the deserving Author, Master Thomas Beedome.

On the Poems of the Author, his deare Brother, Master Thomas Beedom deceased.

THE Author, To the READER.

THE JEALOVS LOUER, OR, THE CONSTANT MAID.

collapse section

To his Mistresse, when shee was going into the Country.

To his Mistresse on her scorne.

The Question and Answer.

The new Petition.

Fooles Paradise, or Reason Bewitcht.

Loves Apostacy to his friend Mr. E. D.

The broken heart song.

Women are mens shadowes.

Women are not mens shadowes.

To his worthy friend Mistresse.

On a Lillie now withered in her bosome.

collapse section

Epitaphium Regis Swedorum.

An Elegy on the death of the renowned, and victorious Gustavus Adolphus King of Sweathland.

To the truly worthy, and his worthily honoured friend Mris Judith Dyke, on the death of her brother Mr John Dyke, obiit ult. Martii 1636.

Encomium Poetarum ad fratrem Galiel Scot.

Against prejudicate opinion.

------Mors æquo pede pulsat Pauperum tabernas, Regumque turres.

To the Noble Sr Francis Drake.

To his friend Mr. Em. D. on a rich vaporing sot, whom hee stiles Ignoramus.

To my matchlesse friend, my dearest William Scot, a New-yeares guift.

The Corner stone.

The Royall Navy.

collapse section

1.

Epigram 1. To my deare friend William Harrington.

2.

Epigram 2. Of one Mary Fraile, who lay with Mr Reason.

3.

Epigram 3. On the same Mary a great lover of Mary-bones.

4.

Epigram 4. To the excellent Poets Mr George Wither

5.

Epigram 5. By way of consolation to his deare friend William Scot, on the death of his brother Gilman Scot.

6.

Epigram 6. To his friend Mr Thomas Beedom, of single life.

7.

Epigram 7. E contra, of Marriage.

8.

Epigram 8. Of good women.

9.

Epigram 9. E Contrario.

10.

Epigram 10. Being a Translation of this Latin verse, composed by Dr Hensloe

11.

Epigram 11. To the worthy honoured, Sir Henry Wootten Knight.

12.

Epigram 12. To the same Knight being President of Eaton Colledge.

13.

Epigram 13. Of a fresh water Souldier.

14.

Epigram 14. Being a meditation to my selfe.

15.

Epigram 15. To himselfe of his Mistresse.

16.

Epigram 16. To his Superlative Mistris.

17.

Epigram 17. To his intimate friend William Pearle.

18.

Epigram 18. To the Heroicall Captaine Thomas James, of his discovery made by the Northwest passage towards the South Sea. 1631.

19.

Epigram 19. A Complaint of his separation from his Mistris, caused by his friends injunction.

20.

Epigram 20. To the memory of his honoured friend Master John Donne, an Eversary.

An Elegie on the death of his loving friend. J: C

My sonne give mee thy heart.

[VVhen first of sinne I tooke survey]

The Inquisition.

The Resurrection.

The Mercy Seate.

Ad punctum mortis.

On the death of Mris. M. T.

collapse section

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

To his worthy friend Mistresse.

I charge thee by those eyes of thine,
Give mee my heart:
Those eyes that stole it out of mine,
I felt the smart.
And least the theft you should deny,
Looke where you keepe it in your eye.

And now I have espy'd it there,
Thinking to catch it;
You chaine and wind it in your haire,
But still I watch it.
And so got loose from thence, it flyes,
And sports agen upon your eyes.

Though now to cozen mee you seeke
Thinking to hide
It in the dimple of your cheeke
I have discry'd:
How now discovered it doth skip
'Twixt the soft prison of each lippe.

Yes, yes, I see it stealing, goe
Least I should find it,
Through the long gallery of snow,
And still I mind it.
How you have shuffled it betweene
Your breasts, not thinking it is seene.

See, see, I see it creeping in
(neare you I feare)
Through the small crannies of your skinne
to shelter there.
As if that vaile could cosen mee,
Alas, I know things I not see.

But if, nor eye, nor haire, nor cheeke,
Nor lip, nor breast, nor heart it keep:
Give me them all, for every part
Thou hast, has part of mee; my heart.