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Poesis Rediviva

or, Poesie Reviv'd. By John Collop

Collop, John

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The fruit of Paradise.

On the Master's of the Science of defence in Controversie.

The Polemick Protestant D.

Prophanum vulgus.

On servile Will, irrespective Election, and Reprobation.

Enthusiasticks.

In multiplicem Schismatis Hydram.

On the Umbraticall Doctors on the Romish party.

On the fencers for Religion.

Doctor Whitaker.

Doctor Field on the Church.

Dr. White, Sir H. Lynd, Dr. Featley in answer to Lyndomastix.

Master Perkins.

Master Chillingworth against Knot.

Master Brightman on the Revelation.

On Bishop Laud against Fisher.

On Doctor Hammond.

To a Lawyer who said, though men might speak against those that are called Gospellers, none justly against them were called Lawyers.

On Magna Charta.

The Character of Loyall Friendship

To the Son of the late King.

News for News to a degenerate Cavalier.

To a degenerate thing falsely called A NOBLE.

A Character of a Compleat Gentleman.

Nobility innobled.

On Thomas Lord Wentworth Earl of STRAFFORD.

Summum jus summa injuria in jure regni.

The pleasures of the VVorld.

A defence of Curiosity: an unsetled mind in unseled times; to weak Calumnie and proud ignorance.

On the death of Mistris E. Kinesm, whom age had transform'd to a Sceleton.

To a painted Lady, a Calf spotted, lusts Idol, like the Idol of the Egyptians.

To a Lady of Pleasure.

To his Lady Book.

Man a Microcosm.

On the Humours.

On the Elements.

Against Phlebotomy to a Leech.

For Phlebotomy.

A Piss-pot Prophet.

To a Gigger to Padua, Valentia, and Leiden Doctors.

On Suburban-non Licentiates, who Fox-like call the Colledge grapes sour.

On the excellent Dr. Glisson.

The Sequestred Priest pidling in Physick

The fugitive Chymick.

On the Astrologicall quack.

Oglio of quacks.

On Noah Big's vanity of the Craft of Physick.

On Van Helmont.

On Doctor Harvey.

On Dr. George Ent.

On Doctor Brown.

On Dr. George Bowle of Oundle.

On the death of his inviscerately affected friend Richard Watson Esq; Chyrurgeon to his late Majesty of England.

On Theocritus, Mosius, and Theognis.

Chymerica Poesis.

The praise of a yellow skin:

To a Lady wadrring why I prais'd a yellow skin.

To Aureola, or the yellow skin'd Lady; asking who could love a Fancy.

To a refin'd Lady.

On an Ethiopian beauty, M. S.

Of the black Lady with grey eyes and white teeth.

The praise of his Mistris.

On a Blew Point given by a Lady on Valentines day to her Valentine, and preach'd against by a Parson who call'd it a Rag of Superstition.

On the Refin'd Lady.

On the wearing of the Tag of her Blew Point.

On Flavia: A yellow hair'd Lady, E. W.

On a Crooked Lady, M. V.

The praise of Thick and Short.

To Dionysia the plump Lady, S. D.

To Eugenia, a defence of juvenile wildnesse.

To a man of office under the L. K. who call'd detraction love, and Calumny good Counsel.

The ingenious Lady E. V. to l. L. contemning her age.

On a retird Lady.

To a Lady singing, mistake me not.

To one wond'ring at my various colour'd Mistresse.

The vanity of Courtship devotion to relicks asserted and confuted.

Donec gratus eram. Horatii.

To Agatha an unfortunate piece of goodnesse E. P. a golden Mine obscur'd in dirt

Incerta pœnitentia.

Certa mors.

On the Resurrection.

The Leper cleans'd.

The good Samaritan.

Vox pœnitentiæ.

Soul and Christ.

On the Nativity.

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Certa mors.

VVatches, and clocks al but the last hour sound,
That hour should in our conscience be found
Sure death's a riddle; th' tablet all unfold,
By none the meaning can of it be told.
Yet th' soul surpris'd in lust, hell is her share:
Hell where of misery the Abysses are.
Hell th' Common-shore of all the filth of th' world:
Where th' fewel of Gods wrath in fire is hurl'd:
Where the Salamander-lust shall bath in fire,
Which here anticipates Hell in loose desire.
On Earth by Euthymy who a Heav'n don't find,
The Hell hereafter feels, hath here in mind.
But oh where's Conscience virtues Correlate?
Which sugars tears, and survives ev'n in fate?
Where's that delicious torrent of delight,
Glancing ith' Cage of flesh a heavenly light?
From the love of God this Alchymy redowns,
Iron to gold turns, and disgrace to crowns.
Can he want light, dwells in th' midst of th' Sun?
Thirst, from whose belly living waters run?

102

Would he have meat? thy flesh is meat indeed:
By faith on thee we may sweet Jesu feed.
Can he want clothing, Lord, may put on thee?
Nor med'cine have? of Life thou art the Tree.
Who wants direction? thou art Lord the Way,
The Light, Door, Truth, to guide them thee obey.
Lord come unto my soul, bid it be thine:
So death shall have no power, when life is mine.