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With a Taste of the Variety of Other Poems, Left by Sir John Beaumont ... Set Forth by his Sonne, Sir Iohn Beaumont
Beaumont, John (1583-1627)
 
[dedication]

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An Elegy to the liuing memory of his deceased Friend, Sir Iohn Beaumont, Knight, Baronet.
 
An Elegy, dedicated to the memory of his much honoured friend, Sir Iohn Beaumont, Knight and Baronet.
 
To the worthy Muse of his Noble Friend, Sir Iohn Beaumont, Knight Baronet.
 
A Congratulation to the Muses, for the immortalizing of his deare Father, by the sacred Vertue of Poetry.
 
Vpon the following Poems of my deare Father, Sir Iohn Beaumont, Baronet, deceased.
 
Vpon these Poems of his dearest Brother, Sir Iohn Beaumont, Baronet.
 
On the honor'd Poëms of his honored Friend, Sir Iohn Beaumont, Baronet.
 
To the deare Remembrance of his Noble Friend, Sir Iohn Beaumont, Baronet.
 
Vpon the Honored Poems of his Vnknowne Friend, Sir Iohn Beaumont, Baronet.
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Bosworth Field:
 
[Bosworth Field]
 
An expression of Sibylls Acrostichs.
 
Virgil. Eclog. 4.
 
An Epigram concerning Mans life composed by Crates, or Posidippus.
 
The answer of Metrodorus.
 
Horat. Lib. 2. Sat. 6.
 
Horat. Carm. Lib. 3. Od. 29.
 
Hort. Epod. 2.
 
Per. Sat. 2.
 
Avson. Idyll. 16.
 
Claudians Epigram of the old man of Verona.
 
Vpon the two great Feasts of the Annunciation and Resurrection falling on the same day,
 
Of the Epiphany.
 
Of the Transfiguration of our Lord.
 
On Ascension day.
 
An Ode of the blessed Trinitie.
 
A Dialogue betweene the World, a Pilgrim, and Vertue.
 
An act of Contrition.
 
In Desolation.
 
In spirituall comfort.
 
An Act of Hope.
 
Of Teares.
 
Of Sinne.
 
Of the miserable state of Man.
 
Of Sicknesse.
 
Of true Liberty.
 
Against inordinate loue of Creatures.
 
Against abused Loue.
 
A description of Loue.
 
The Shepherdesse.
 
On the Anniversary day of his Maiesties reigne ouer England, March the 24.
 
A thanksgiuing for the deliuerance of our Soueraigne, King Iames, from a dangerous accident, Ianuary 8.
 
To his late Maiesty, concerning the true forme of English Poetry.
 
To the glorious memory of our late Soueraigne Lord, King Iames.
 
A Panegyrick at the Coronation of our Soueraigne Lord King Charles.
 
Of the Princes iourney.
 
Of the Princes departure and returne.
 
Of the Princes most happy returne.
 
Vpon the anniuersary day of the Princes return October the fifth.
 
To the most illustrious Prince Charles, of the excellent vse of Poems.
 
To the Prince.
 
An Epithalamium vpon the happy marriage of our Soueraigne Lord King Charles, and our gracious Lady Queene Mary.
 
At the end of his Maiesties first yeere.
 
Sonnet second.
 
An Epithalamium to my Lord Marquesse of Buckingham, and to his faire and vertuous Lady.
 
Of his Maiesties vow for the felicity of my Lord Marquesse of Buckingham.
 
My Lord of Buckinghams welcome to the King at Burley.
 
A Congratulation to my Lord Marquesse of Buckingham, at the Birth of his Daughter.
 
Of true Greatnesse:
 
Vpon my Lord of Buckinghams Armes.
 
Vpon my Lord of Buckinghams Shield at a Tilting, his Impresse being a Bird of Paradise.
 
To the Duke of Buckingham at his returne from Spaine.
 
To the Duke of Buckingham.
 
To my gracious Lord, the Duke of Buckingham, vpon the birth of his first Sonne.
 
Vpon the Earle of Couentryes departure from vs to the Angels.
 
To my Lord Vicount Purbeck: a Congratulation for his health.
 
To the memory of the faire and thrice vertuous Gentlewoman, Mistris Elizabeth Neuell.
 
Of the truly Noble and Excellent Lady, the Lady Marquesse of Winchester.
 
Vpon his Noble Friend, Sir William Skipwith.
 
An Epitaph vpon my deare Brother, Francis Beaumont.
 
Of my deare Sonne, Geruase Beaumont.
 
Teares for the death of the truly Honourable, the Lord Chandos.
 
Vpon the vntimely death of the Honourable, hopefull young Gentleman, Edward Stafford, Sonne and Heire to the Lord Stafford.
 
To the Memory of the Learned and Religious, Ferdinando Pulton, Esquire.
 
To the immortall memory of the fairest and most vertuous Lady, the Lady Clifton.
 
Vpon the death of the most noble Lord Henry, Earle of Southampton, 1624.
 
An Epitaph vpon that hopefull young Gentleman, the Lord Wriothesley.
 
Ivvenal. Sat. 10.
 
A funerall Hymne out of Prudentius.

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83

Of Sinne.

What pensill shall I take, or where begin
To paint the vgly face of odious sinne?
Man sinning oft, though pardon'd oft, exceeds
The falling Angels in malicious deeds:
When we in words would tell the sinners shame,
To call him Diuell is too faire a name.
Should we for euer in the Chaos dwell,
Or in the lothsome depth of gaping hell:
We there no foule and darksome formes shall find
Sufficient to describe a guilty mind.
Search through the world, we shall not know a thing,
Which may to reasons eye more horrour bring,
Then disobedience to the highest cause,
And obstinate auersion from his Lawes.
The sinner will destroy God, if he can.
O what hath God deseru'd of thee, poore man,
That thou should'st boldly striue to pull him downe
From his high Throne, and take away his Crowne?
What blindnesse moues thee to vnequall fight?
See how thy fellow creatures scorne thy might,
Yet thou prouok'st thy Lord, as much too great,
As thou too weake for his Imperiall seate.
84

Behold a silly wretch distracted quite,
Extending towards God his feeble spite,
And by his poys'nous breath his hopes are faire
To blast the skies, as it corrupts the aire.
Vpon the other side thou mayst perceiue
A mild Commander, to whose Army cleaue
The sparkling Starres, and each of them desires
To fall and drowne this Rebell in their fires.
The Cloudes are ready this proud Foe to tame,
Full fraught with thunderbolts, and lightnings flame.
The Earth, his Mother, greedy of his doome,
Expects to open her vnhappy wombe,
That this degen'rate sonne may liue no more,
So chang'd from that pure man, whom first she bore.
The sauage Beasts, whose names his Father gaue,
To quell this pride, their Makers licence craue.
The Fiends his Masters in this warlike way,
Make sute to seaze him as their lawfull prey.
No friends are left: then whither shall he flie?
To that offended King, who sits on high,
Who hath deferr'd the battell, and restrain'd
His souldiers like the winds in fetters chain'd:
For let the Sinner leaue his hideous maske,
God will as soone forgiue, as he shall aske.
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