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University of Virginia Library

Divinity and Morality in Robes of Poetry

Composed for the Recreations of the Courteous and Ingenious. By the Author Tho. Jordan

Jordan, Thomas (1612?-1685?)

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The New years Gift.

On forgetfulness in holy Duties.

On rash Iudgment.

On an Evil Tongue.

A Dialogue betwixt the Flesh, and the Spirit.

An Acrostich on my very worthy friend Mr. MARKE WARD.

An Epitaph in an Acrostich, composed on the Name of his vertuous Sister Mrs. Joane Ward.

An Elegiack, in a double Acrostich, sacred to the memory of the most truly vertuous Mrs. Margaret Jessop,

The CHARACTER of a Corrupt States-Man, that is solely devoted to Selfe-Ends, But pretends to Piety.

The Politician in Person.

[Thus have I shewn the nature of those sinnes]

On these Civill Warres.

On our Saviour, his being called the Carpenter.

A Paraphrase upon the Pater Noster

To an unnaturall Elder Brother that beguiled him of his Portion.

An Allarme in 1645.

An Elegy and Epitaph composed on the death of an Infant Lady.

On the event of these Wars betwixt the Dutch and English.

On those women, who pretend that poverty provoketh to in chastity.

To the much honored Pair, and most pious Preservers of Love and Loyalty in Wedlock, Mr. Nathaniel Lownes Merchant Adventurer, &c. and the perfect Patern of Vertue Mrs. Melior Lownes his beloved Consort.

On Henry the VIII.

An Epigram on one, who said, He liv'd by his wits.

Good Wits may Jump.

On a School-Master.

An Elegy and Epitaph on the deplored death of the much worthy William Barklay Esquire, one of the Aldermen of the City of London; dedicate to Mr. Hen. Barklay.

On Intemperance.

On pious Poverty.

On vain delights.

On the Eucharist.

The material substance of our Creed contracted in twelve lines.

The ten Commandements in ten lines.

The happy estate of the Blessed,

The wretched estate of the cursed,

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An Epigram on one, who said, He liv'd by his wits.

Pamphlet last vveek in his fantastique fits,
Was ask'd hovv he did live, He said, By's wits:
Pamphlet I see vvill tell lyes by the Clock,
Hovv can he live upon so poor a stock?