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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.

The Poetaster.

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.

On the Resurrection.

The Leper cleans'd.

The good Samaritan.

Vox pœnitentiæ.

Soul and Christ.

On the Nativity.

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The Poetaster.

All are not Poets, who can pace in Rime,
And to an odde tune, can in ding dong chime;
Castalian nymphs and God Apollo name;
Don-Cupids fire, and a Sea-froth'd dame;
While they glean straw in Egypt for to raise;
Unto themselves strange pyramids of praise.

63

Though like to tulips they enamel'd be,
Yet the fools Coat is their best Liverie.
On pagan Gods and Goddesses who call,
Sure their Religion is poetical.
Nor should they the Vintage judge of pagan wit,
Who what they have but gleanings are from it;
Nor learn'd 'bove fooleries; rich above Romance,
Fit th' price of vanity only to inhance;
A Fountain Tavern thus may Helicon be,
Nine wenches muses lending Poetrie.
While Idol-Priests, who Poets do approve,
Themselves some Idol make, a wench they love.
Their wit like to their Venus, born of froth,
Is fit for fire, a Vulcan to betroth.