University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Poesis Rediviva

or, Poesie Reviv'd. By John Collop
 
 

collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
On the wearing of the Tag of her Blew Point.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

On the wearing of the Tag of her Blew Point.

Though like a Liquorish stick you're thin,
Yet all its sweetnesse is within.
Like Aarons Rod in virtues bud,
A twig in virtue 'bove a wood.
Sure Kings white wands but Emblems be
Of virtues which do reign in thee.
Some think by Magick Rods decline,
And by their head point out a Myne.
But oh more true none this twig see,
That richer Mynes finde not by thee.
Sure had Philosophers but you known,
They'd this Elixir thought their stone.
Since you're a quintessence can refine,
And make brasse Tags priz'd 'bove a Myne.
While all that's glorious meets in you,
We pay to yours what is your due.

75

Who honour Saints, of them do love each rag;
Who loves the Saint, must honour needs her tag.
Had you but lived in a fonder age,
To your Blew Point they'd gone a pilgrimage.