University of Virginia Library

To his friend, and familiar W. Gamage of his Epigrams.

To my lo. friend W. Gamage in the praise of his Epigrams.

Thy overlooking of the pleasant fields,
In sport abroad to spend some idle howres:
Hath gath'red fruit not of vnfruitfull weeds;
But set a Banke of sweet and fragrant flowers.
Continue then both earl'e and late to rise
To walke abroad, to vse this exercise.

Another of the same.

In my conceipt this thy conceipted Booke,
Deserues the stamp of everlasting praise:
Feare no man's face that on his face doth looke,
His forehead shines with complementall raies.
Gamage thy name, and of thy age the Game
Thou dost deserue, tho not desire the same.

The Author to the Praisers of his booke.

It feares me, that your kinde heroicall Layes
Are too transcendent for my humble straine:
And Loadstone-like drawe to themselues the praise;
And so my Muse receaue a dull disdaine.
No force, I hope your lines will sooth some one
To read my Booke, and descant therevpon.

THE FIRST CENTVRIE.

Epig. 1. To his heroike, and splendent Patronesse, Katherine, Lady Mansell.

This stuffe of mine, I grant, is overcourse,
For your fine wearing, Loadstarre of our Clime,
Yet let it serue, I pray, tho few be worse
As a course garment for this Winter time.
Ere Sommer els, I do most highly feare,
That Momus will my Loome in sunder teare.

Epig. 2. On her name.

C Cell of vertue thou art rare,
A Any with for to compare,
T That doth dwell in Cambers Clime,
H Having noble Sydneys Line.
E Ever beautifie thy name,
R Royall, worthy, peereles dame:
I In vertue still let be thy dwelling,
N Never ill, in good excelling;
E Eternizing so thy fame.
M Might my praier be accepted,
A Accept it, Lord, and graunt her Ishue:
N Never none to be reiected
S Send her, children, cloath'd in Tishue,
E Erect her calling at thy pleasure,
L Let her life be vertues Treasure:
L Lead her soule where Angels are.

Epig. 3. To the worthy founder of our famous Oxonian Librarie, Sir Tho: Bodley, built in the forme of a T.

The forked Y, as learned Sages write,
Containes in it deepe mysteries divine:
Thy target T if that I true endite,
Doeth shelter in't more many a sacred Line
Then all the letters of that sage his name;
Such is the Glory of thy Vaticane.

Epig. 4. To the Reader, of his Poëmes.

Some of these Poemes, some will Satyres call,
(What tho some be grim Satyres-like, and tall?
Which Monsters be, pertaining to the Wood.)
These do molest the Bad, but please the good,

Epig. 5. On Zoylus, of his Booke.

Poets doe stile thee oft a biting Mate;
Which argues thee the eater of some Bookes:
Eat this withall, but leaue to Barke thereat,
So that in fine this Morsell quite thee choakes.

Epig. 6. A Courtizan, Etymologized.

A Courtizan most fit deriues her name,
By her conditions from a courteous Dame.
What Nature did to her so gratis giue,
With this shee will all such as begge relieue.

Epig. 7. The Noone-tide Walker of Pawles.

VVhat maks thee stay? Wel nie, since all be gone.
Thou telst me, cause some verses thou wouldst make.
Ist so'? thou mai'st since thou art most alone,
And cause all day thy Panch must emptie quake.

Epig. 8. Garnet, with his twelue Apostles.

Ioseph, with his Apostles twelue first plants,
In Englands Soile, Religion pure to grow;
But thou, and thy twise sixe infernall Wants,
Didst this endeavour to supplant; and Sow
Thy Popish Darnell; but the season fail'd,
And thou with thine, to Tyburns post wast nail'd.

Epig. 9. The sickemans Dialogue.

Sicknes what art? the Bodies schourging-Rod,
What els? the queller of thy lofty blood.
Moreover what? the path vnto thy God.
And what in fine? Death's message for thy good.
Since thou art then the soule and bodies weale,
Come when thou wilt, from thee Ile ne're appeale.

Epig. 10. On our Bacchanalians.

To Magistrats.

Thunder as anci'ent Poëts fabulize,
Begate God Bacchus, Lord of all misrule:
No wonder then his Nephewes, which Pottize
Till they be drunke, vse clamors like the Mule.
Remoue the cause th' effect soone take away:
Y'll aske me how?lop downe the Ivie Bay.

Epig. 11. To his deare interressed friend Mr M. Cradocke.

As I thy ground did compasse and o'relooke
I compassed well nie, this triviall Booke.

Epig. 12. In Lanuginosos Buccinatores.

To his fr. M. Rob. LLoyd.

O're many are, as we may dayly see,
That start too soone to Moyses sacred seat.
Before they sit beneath Gamaliels knee,
To sucke the Nectar of his flowing Teat.
These Brocchers be of schisme and heresie,
Not skilling how to teach or edifie.

Epig. 13. To the worthie Mecænas of learning Mr Anthony Guin, Esquier.

Amongst the Scythians Anacharsis sage
Was their sole Clearke, the

[_]

Anacharsis inter Scythas.

Proverbe verifies.
I will not say, in this our learned age,
Thou art sole Phœnix, in arts Mysteries.
But this I'le say, in this our barren Clime:
Thou art the best Mecænas vnto thine.

Epig. 14. To the studious Gent. Mr I. Carne.

Thy studious Booke, thy blazed fame shall ring:
When others pastime to great shame shall bring.

Epig. 15. Unum necessarium.

To his respectiue fr. Mr Row. Harries, of pious, religious scholler, Mr Hop. Price, lately deceased.

Some graue in yeares, in lore but childish yet,
In stud'ing fleering, fliting, fading toies.
But thou, young Price, had'st cert's a graver wit
In conning precepts of ay lasting ioyes.
Let these alone, to 'enioy their fruitlesse art;
Thou doubtlesse now hast choos'd the better part.

Epig. 16. To our Moderne Epigrammatists, of his Poemes.

All arts, which latest come to common view,
Are commonly the best without compare;
But in these lines you cannot finde this true,
Like timelesse fruits, vnmellowed right which are,
For you haue gather'd all the Sommers flowers.
Here are but leauings mixt with Hyems showers.

Epig. 17. One Mounsier Elatus, deceased.

It lately seem'd by thy aspiring mind,
Thou totall wast compos'd of loftie fire:
Which vpward's tend's, the place to' hit assign'd,
But thy downefall vnto the basest mire,
Betokens now thy substance was but clay;
Which should haue stoop't thy loftinesse alwaie.

Epig. 18. A new Convert.

Thy change was good, from bloody killing sword;
To preach and teach the ever living word.

Epig. 19. A rare Metamorphosis.

Is it not strange, in this our iron age?
To see one clime to pulpit, from the stage.

Epig. 20 The Epitaph of the studious Gent. Mr Hop. Price.

To the worshipfull, his loving father Mr Wm Price, Esquier.

As my true loue was loyall vnto thee
Whiles that thou breath'st within this valty Cell;
Which shall not end with thy mortalitie,
But in the graue with thee shall ever dwell:
So take these farwels as thy only due,
Of thy deare freind, thy death which doth berue.
Farewell, bright Gem of learnings worthie grace;
Farewell, great hope of all the Muses nine;
Farewell, sweet Impe, with thy Angellike face;
Farewell, embracer of the word divine.
Farewell, deere Price, whose price I cannot count:
Farewell, vntill we meet in Sions Mount.

Epig. 21. Duke Humfrey entomb'd.

Thy Tombe has Gratis more spectators e're
Then those of Westminster for Coine I wote;
'Tis strange, therefore they doe not pay more deare,
But as I gesse, they be not worth a grote.

Epig. 22. Gullus, Grillus.

Gu.
How goes the world, my Grillus, now with thee?

Gr.
Comrade, my life naught is but slaverie;

Gu.
How so, a freeman for to be a thrall?

Gr.
Free borne, but yet, Don Magnus Tenis Ball.

Gu.
Cashiere his yoke, cast of his servile Badge.

Gr.
Oh, no, for feare of his most furious rage.

Gu.
What world is this? must you be Rombus slaue?

Gr.
Yes; else for such iust nothing we can haue.

Epig. 23. To I. G.

Thy Crosses were full many in account;
But, ay, one Manie, doth these many mount.

Epig. 23. Tillage.

To his fr. M. Ie. Cradocke.

Tillage is good, the Husbandmans true badge;
While youth remaines, still fructifies, Till Age.

Epig. 25. The Sympathy of Law, and Logicke.

To his Academian Cousen, Io. Powell.

The subtile Logicke, and the craftie Law,
Most equally within one yoke doth drawe,
Both vse

[_]

fallacius.

Deceipts, the one for glorie vaine,
Th' other doth abuse it for his Gaine.
Both Brawlers be, and doe for ever iarre.
Th' one at Schoole, the other at the Barre.
But of all evils we must chuse the lesse;
And from Impostors vs for ever blesse.
To Logicks quipping tongue, I'ld rather stand:
Then to lawes cruell, shearing, shaving hand.

Epig. 26. Quicquid in Buccam venerit,

To Mistr. Futilis.

Thy Sivie breast can keepe no secrecie,
But forcest all things thereout for to fle:
If there were vent to gable lie, or truth;
Thy breast should be in leiu of open mouth.

Epig. 27. Fides sola iustificat.

To Mr VVadams, the worthie founder of a new College in Oxford.

The Popish sect faire Colleges did raise,
Whereby they thought themselues to iustifie;
But sole true faith we see doth now adaies,
Produce Good daughters, workes of charitie.
Which caus'd, I thinke, our Wadam so to wade,
In building Columnes, which shall never fade.

Epig. 28. On Curius, and Curiosus.

I did 'force thee present my faultlesse Bill.
And prai'd thereto thy hand to vnderwrite;
Thou told'st me, nay; for that t'was framed ill,
And why? thou se'st, 'cause faults it did not cite.
Thou diff'rest then from Curiosus quite,
Which will subscribe to All, but to the Rite.

Epig. 29. To Mounsier After.

After, in what? in name, sure not in Lore.
For most Sr Iohns thou wentest bold, Before.

Epig. 30. To King Iames, Brittaines Royall Monarch.

The Vnicorne, and Lion ioine in loue,
Which props the Armes of our most Gracious King;
Tho enimies in all things else they proue
Themselues vnto themselues; a wondrous thing;
That beasts should be more humane in their kind,
To vnions pearle; then mens Divisions blind.

Epig. 31. To the most Illustrious Brothers, the Earles of Pembroke, and Mountgomerie.

VVales stiles you Both with titles great of fame
You pay hir'alike, your Greatnesse 'mounts her Name.

Epig. 32. To the learned and ingenious Divine. Mr D. Hall, of his vowes Cent.

Some vow, and breake; thou vowst and do'st fulfill.
Such is the difference 'twixt good, and ill.

Epig. 33. In the praise of Brasen-nose-Coll.

Thy Nose more famous is, tho' it be of Brasse,
Then many a head of many a golden Asse.

Epig. 34. To his loving fr. Mr Io. Price. Batc. of Divinitie.

Well may we liken Gods most sacred write,
Vnto the formes of Alcibiades:
Which outwardly look't plaine, and nothing bright
But inwardly, most like faire Goddesses:
So doth Gods word seeme rude, in outward face;
But the cleare spirit yeelds a shining grace.

Epig. 35. On perfidious Carle, the loue-maker.

Carle will not keepe promise, wote yee why?
He thinkes by Law all Suiters well may ly.

Epig. 36. To his friend and Phisition Mr VVm Uoyle.

My friend thou hast a griefe in Phisicks art,
Called, Me noli tangere, by name;
For being touch't, it forthwith yeeldeth smart.
How can'st thou then to this a Med'cine frame?
Each griefe, I thinke, within thy Bookish cell,
With this griefes name will be contented well.

Epig. 37. To his golden Gildus.

The feign'd Vtopian weareth in his eare
A ring of Gold in leiu of infamie;
But, Gildus thou, Gold-earings still do'st weare,
Which is, thou sai'st, thy selfe to glorifie.
What glorie i'st? it serues to hide the sore,
Which in thy eares the Pillorie did Bore.

Epig. 38. To sober Mr Bevans.

Sobrietie thou comp'st a sin, and why?
Because thou seldome livest soberly.

Epig. 39. The Sheapheards Calenders Arithmeticke.

Thou Kalender of Sheepheards farre did'st erre,
In numb'ring Gods Commaundements by rote;
When Nine for Ten for Truth thou did'st averre,
Leaving the second out, not least of note.
This thy substraction serues no other Sheepe
But thine; which basely to the Image creepe.

Epig. 40. Perkins.

Thou sweet, profound Divine, with one sole hand,
Did'st raze more buildings of the Popish frame,
Then many a one, that seeketh to withstand
With both at once, the Gunshot of the same.
Here doth the Maim'd, (a wonder) as we see
The whole o'rematch, in Christ his Soulderie.

Epig. 41 To Sr Io. Stradling, Knight and Baronnet, of his learned Epig.

Thy Muse fits not the vulgar in effect:
For reading, sans conceipt, is to neglect.

Epig. 42. Iewell, the Hammer of Hereticks.

Thou Iewell wast a iuell rare indeed,
Of value more then is the Ophir gold:
For this doth only decke the bodies weed;
But thy most heav'nly words most sweetly rowl'd
Doe decke the soule; and thy keene English Pen
Did cut his throat, that sung the Popes Amen.

Epig. 43. D. Rainolds Ghost.

VVhat made thee, Atlas of our Church divine?
For to decline so vnder thy light paise:
Which never stoop'st to any Popish shrine
In all thy life; but loth'st such Trash alwaies.
Thy answer is hereto most right I doome,
Burning to vs thou did'st thy selfe consume.

Epig. 44. To Mr Blable the Tale-teller.

Dame Nature gaue thee two eares, and two eies,
(My wheel-tongu'd Gemy) which doth seldōe stay
And but one mouth (through her foreknowledge wise)
That thou should'st more both heare, & see, then bray.
But thou do'st blab against Minerva's Law
More then thy Eares did heare, or Eies e're saw.

Epig. 45. To the Ho: and most vertuous Lady, Barbara, Uice-countesse de Lisles, the Omega of the Gamages.

Al rivers that do run to Neptune Vast,
Do loose their names let them be neere so great:
So thy great Gransiers names in thee at last,
Do loose their stile, and coyties royall seat.
What tho? is not the sea of more renowne
Then rivers, which in him themselues do drowne?

Epig. 46. Gabriell Goodman, heretofore Deane of Westminster.

Goodman wast hight, (and lesse I misse to scan)
Thou wast indeed a zealous right good man.

Epig. 47. Tam Baccho, quam Uulcano.

To Hugh, the Ale-Draper.

Thou art a Crafts-man good; yet all thy Craft
Cannot detaine thee from too deepe a Draft.

Epig. 48. To the noble heroike Gent: Sir William Sidney Knight, of the place of his Nativitie.

Zeland did blaze thy birth, be like thy name;
Then Sea, and Land shal Trumpe thy Goldē fame.

Epig. 49. To Zutphen, a towne in Gilderland, at the Beleagring of which, the renowned Sir Phillip Sidney was killed.

I wist not which thy fame or infamie?
Doth more exceede, in causing Sidneys fall:
But yet, I rather thinke thy fame, for why?
Before that time thou hadst no fame at all.

Epig. 50. On Elizabeths Embleme, late Queene of England, Tanquam Ovis.

Thou wast a sheepe, and Wolfes thy shepheards were;
How didst thou then escape Deaths bloody hand?
Another shepheard which doth rule the Spheare,
Did these fell shepheards wondrously withstand.

Epig. 51. In Du Bartas praise, and his Translator.

Right well Du Bartas may we call thy name,
For Duw in Welch betokens more then Man.
So wast, I thinke, when thou thy Laies didst frame,
Such Heav'nly Muse sole Man could scarsly scan.
And Iosuah thou that took'st this verse in hand
To turne; for ere thy sunne of praise shall stand.

Epig. 52. To wise Lusca.

I wonder, Lusca, of thy foolish Pate,
Which to thy husband haste so wise a Mate;
He should haue powr'd into thy selfe being One
Linkt to himselfe, some wisdome long agone.
But, as I gesse, thy head is farc'd so full
With folly, that no lore can pearce thy scull.

Epig. 53. To publicke Lata alias Wh[illeg.]

Why do men call thee, Publicke? for I weene,
What thou committ'st is not in Publick seene.

Epig. 54. On Fabius, to the Readers.

Thou didst resigne thy Office, wote yee why?
Because thou sai'st, thou hard'st a Rat to Squeake:
None would haue wondred at thy foolerie,
In leaving it, if thou hadst hard her Speake.

Epig. 55. Pilling, and Polling.

To Dæmon, and Damon.

Dæ:
How ist Comrade? we both professe the Law,
Therfore we should in one yoke equal draw.

Da:
We do; but in the Manner we disioine,
I civill do, thou common do'st Purloine.

Dæ:
No force, our Maners both shall Manours buy;

Da:
Why then Ile shaue, and fley thou Equitie.

Epig. 56. To the most learned, and Heavenly Divine, Doctor Holland, Doctor of the Chaire, lately Deceased.

Thy sacred Chaire did oft from Earth thee Mount:
No marvaile; for of Earth thou nought didst Count.

Epig. 57. To Sir Hebes, the Unctions Empericke.

What diffrence twixt the Papists Vnction,
And thine? for both we see be quite extreame;
No great; they vse it when all helpe is gone,
And thou hereby more kill'st then curst, I deeme.

Epig. 58. To his loving friend Mr Ie: Mayos, Preacher of Gods Word.

In the Church primitiue, devoted men,
Did lay their Treasures at the Apostles feet;
But the Derivatiue, alas, since then,
Allowance poore allots to Preachers meete.
But like their brother Ananias, they,
Yeeld their poore Pastors, but a part of Pay.

Epig. 59. To his friend R. Loue.

Loue oft is taken for blinde Cupids Game;
So is all loue, thats only but in Name.

Epig. 60. To the Illustrious L: Viscount de Lisle, brother to Noble Sir Phill: Sydney.

Though not in Name vnto thy brother deere,
Yet thou in Nature art his worthy peere;
His fame extolled, blazed forth his name
Thy name exalted, Trumpets loud thy fame.

Epig. 61. To the worthy Mecænas of learning, Oliver, Lo: St Iohn, Baron of Bledso.

We Scholers may, St Iohn, thee stile right well,
Which gratis giv'st to Saints what others sel.

Epig. 62. The Gilden Mile.

If that same Mile were farced full with Gold,
That's Gilden call'd, for her smooth-silken face;
Then would our Mony-Miners sure be bold
Her pathfaire-superficies to deface.
Then should shee right her Gilden name forsake:
And for the same a gauled name might take.

Epig. 63. Ius, and Iurista Robbing poore Luscus.

Ius:
How ist colleague? how goes Don-Luscus case?

Iur:
Clean backwarts, sans of Angels bright a brase

Ius:
These heav'nly be, how then canst thou thē haue?

Iur:
Friend, thou mistak'st the earthly I do craue.

Epig. 64. On Thraso, the kill Cow.

I meete percase Dell Thraso at the shore,
As he came fresh from Irelands dismall warre;
I askt what newes? He told me all, and more,
How he himselfe did thousands kill, and skarre.
I him beli'ud, for he did beare about
Whole multitudes of the rebellious Rout.

Epig. 65. Spiritus, & Caro.

To his loving friend Mr R. Tho.

These seeme in peace to liue in midst of warre,
So blind we iudge whē with our selues we iarre.

Epig. 66. Brittaines Bursse.

To the famous late Earle of Sarisburie.

Full fraught with store shall be thy famous Bursse,
When penilesse shall be the Misers purse.

Epig. 67. To the ingenious Epigrammatists Io: Owens, and Io: Heath, both brought vp in New Coll: in Oxenford.

Though you were both not of one Mother bore,
Yet nursed were you at the selfe same brest:
For fluent Genious, and ingenious lore,
And the same Dugges successiuely haue prest.
Tis true yee are but Fosterers by birth,
Yet brothers right in Rimes conceiptfull mirth.

Epig. 68. To Blincke, the Archer.

Cupid is blinde yet never misse the white:
But thou do'st see, yet never shoot'st aright.

Epig. 69. Pecunia potest omnia.

On franticke Fiscus.

The proverbe is, Dame Mony can do All;
It instigats the Theefe to kill and steale.
It Spurres the Merchant On, to Round the Ball
Of this vast Orbe, to'enrich his Common-weale.
What can it not? It causeth vs runne mad,
And Fifcus too, being therewith overclad.

Epig. 70. The capring Corde.

To theevish Lato, and Clownish Leto.

VVhat wouldst haue done with that strong halter, Nick?
Which, Lato thought t' exchange for thy Gold;
Thou in it wouldst haue show'n a capring Tricke,
And strech't thy Necke in that Racke, long of old.
But since thou scap'st, giue Lato's Corde againe,
His right 'tis pitty from him to detaine.

Epig. 71. On the Worldlings question.

The common question now a daies doth passe,
Not what shee is; but what sweet Mopsa ha's.

Epig. 72. On the Nativity of Queene Elizabeth, borne on the Eue of the Nativity of Ma.

Thy Virgin Birth vpon a Virgins Eue,
Did true Presage thou should'st a Virgin Liue.

Epig. 73. To our Navigators, seeking heare the Port of Rest.

Yee Neptunes Plowmen, ye are cleane astray,
Which seeke on Earth the Port of quiet Rest;
Direct your course vnto Olympus Bay,
This of all other Capes is sure the Best.
But your calme sea must be the liquid Aire,
Your ships, your sailes the wings not of Despaire.

Epig. 74. A paire royall of Fiends.

If friendship true did ere in Bad Ones stay,
It did remaine in Bengfield, Winchester,
And Constable; three men of Hels array,
Which sought Elyza'in in hir Prime to smoother.
I may not tearme these paire of Royall friends
But rather paire of most disloyall fiends.

Epig. 75. To his loving Cosen Mr Rees Myricke.

Thou shalt now light on many a compleat frie,
That will thee call, most loving Cosin, kinde,
Which never skill'd it by arts Heraldrie;
Take heed, this Cosin, mai'st a cousner finde.
For Iudas-like h'ill Haile thee with a kisse;
And to betray, such Cheaters seldome misse.

Epig. 76. On Fuske, the Gormandiser.

To his Cosin Row: Uaughan student in Physicke.

Physitians say, all sicknes doth proceede
From Ore aboundance, or Vacuitie;
Whereof, the first thou verifi'est in deed
My Fuske, by gorging thy profunditie.
And 'fore that Nature should a Vacuum graunt
Within thy Panch; Death-Surfeit thou wilt haunt.

Epig. 77. On an Inne, Grac'd with the Flowre-de-Luce.

Th'art brauely deckt without, with Frāce faire Armes,
But stain'd within with her most lothsome Harmes.

Epig. 78. Coytie Castle, and Radyr house exclaiming ou Time.

World-wasting Time, thou worker of our woes
Thou keene-edg'd rasor of our famous name,
That antique was, but now oblivious growes,
The subiect almost of contempt and shame.
Yet doe thy worst, our names shall liue for ay,
Altho our fame thou buried hast in Clay.

Epig. 79. Almes Deed's.

On Pinch-Peny, Tent.

Some Treasures cast into the poore mans Box,
Some slender Mites according to their state;
But thou didst never (Tent) once op'e thy Lockes,
Thy Mydas muck for to anihilate.
But stuff'st his mawe with Roundings for to eate,
To still his crie, which did for coine intreat.

Epig. 80. To the studious, and noble Gent. Sr R. Sydney, knight of the Bath.

The waters giue thee titles; but the earth
Shall adde great Trophies to thy greater Birth.

Epig. 81. Lalus, and Lelius.

Lalus presuming on a dram of Lore,
Did Lelius daughter for his Mate implore.
Tush Princocke proud who scornefully repli'd,
Think'st thou to haue my Darling, for thy Bride?
La:
I am a Scholler, so I may growe great,
And may hereafter sit in princely seat.

Le.
What do'st professe? what is thy facultie?

La.
I study sacred deepe Divinitie.

Le.
Tut, what a Priest? a Tenant but for life?
Packhence thou get'st not my ioy for thy wife.

La.
Be patient Sir, let me win your good will,
I am a Lawier, full of Ploydons skill.

Le.
I'st so? why then I'le instantly thee wiue
Vnto my child, for thou art like to thriue.

Epig. 82. On Prudentius, a Christian Poet.

Tis not thy name mak's thee deale prudently,
But thy profession, Christianitie.

Epig. 83. To the most Rever. in Christ, Francis. B. of Landaffe u his Catalogue.

Though no Record shall register thy fame,
Thine owne Records enrowled haue the same.

Epig. 84. The Crab tree.

Of all the Trees, the Crab tree, I thinke best;
(The Oke is strong great buildings to erect,
The fir tree faire to frame thereof a chest,
TheEw most fit an arrow to direct.)
But this ha's in't a pretious Baulme to cure
The poys'ned stings which womens tongs procure.

Epig. 85. On our fleering, fawning, trecherous Gnathoes.

The temp'rat Zones, as

[a]

1 Meta.

Naso testifies,
Participate of heate, and cold commixt.
Herein I thinke, he vents out truth, not lies;
Because that many in these Clymat's fixt
Doe, as the Proverbe saith, in either hand,
Both carry water, and a burning Brand.

Epig. 86. On Golden Simonie.

To his deere affectiue Cousen, Mr I. Pralpth.

At first, I knowe, our ghostly simonie
His name deriv'd from Simon Magus, iust;
But now adaies, I thinke it verily,
It tooke his name from See-money accurst.
Hereby Sir Iohn gets him a living fat,
That never knewe the Latine for his hat.

Epig. 87. Heavens Diademe.

To his fr. and familiar, W. Io.

Most wonder will to heare a beggars brat
Should haue as good, as large an heritage,
As the rich heire of some great Potentate,
That whilome was, or is in this our age.
But so it is, the Heavens Hirarchie
To Spade belongs, as well to Scepter hie.

Epig. 88. Perkins cases, the Divine.

Thy sacred Cases conscionable be,
And why not Fips? because he nips the Fee.

Epig. 89. To the most Rever. Father in Christ, Anth. B. of St Davids.

Of his learned conceipts painted in his hall.

Some Pen conceipts their ingine sole to shew,
But thine doe wit, and sacred Lore containe:
Which tho domesticke be, for private yew,
Thy fame to publish yet, they doe 'pertaine.
If any question why they secret lie,
I say because the Pencill cannot flie.

Epig. 90. On his brother, buried in Zeland,

VVhat though thy corps, as is the

[a]

Gen. 49 33.

custome old,
with thy forefathers doth not lie ingrav'd?
I trust thy soule with theirs be safe enrowl'd
Within the booke of life, most certaine sav'd.

Epig. 91. To the hypocriticall Papist, wearing the Gospell of St Iohn about his necke.

Thou well this book about thy neck mai'st weare:
For, this, I knowe, thy heart it comes not neere.

[Epig. 92.] To his cordiall fr. Mr Moore Fortune heretofore a Traveller. Of Virgina.

The Naturall

[a]

Ex lib. Aug. Nav.

Virginianist's beleeue,
All creatures, both visible, vnseene;
That were, or shall, or doe on earth now liue,
To be composed of light water greene.
A light beliefe, more light then is the water;
To deeme that all was made of such a matter.

Epig. 93. In medio virtus.

To his fr. Rich. Iohnes

Vertue they say 'twixt two extreames doth stand,
To separate Superlatiues in ill:
Which true we finde in Brodefoord with her Strand,
That parts Lauryddian, 'gainst Lanellies will.
Else sure the bibbers of these famous Townes,
Would meet ful oft to cracke their giddie crownes.

Epig. 94. To the learned, honest, and Pious Gent.

Mr Th. Leysons, Phisitian; of the Bathes.

Your Bathes partake of waters cold, hot too,
A wonder t'were, but that they wonders doe.

Epig. 95. On the Orchadians, with their Bestiall fellowship.

It ill befits for Man and beast to lie
In one selfe roome without partitions shreene;
which the Orchadians hereof testifies.
A match ill made together as I weene.
Vnlesse it be for loue of buggerie,
The worst of kinde with beasts to multiply.

Epig. 96. To the Censurers of these vulgar Poesies, Epigrams.

Some carping Criticks doubtlesse will averre,
This kind of rime to haue a common hew,
And therefore harsh, be cause it doth inferre
No novell forme, like to the fashion new;
No marvell, for it is the worlds true guise,
The new to loue, the ancient to despise.

Epig. 97. To ingenious Ben. Iohnson.

If that thy Lore were equall to thy wit:
Thou in Apollo's chaire might'st iustly sit.

Epig. 98. The Traveller.

Costing Catita, t'was my chance to meet
Alumnus poore, whome kindly I did greet:
And ask't what newes? who, sighing, did impart,
Which to vnlace, said he, torments my heart.
But hoping, friend thou wilt condole with me:
I will vnfold what I too common see.
The vnderling in Church, and Common-weale,
Must travaile, trudge, of bondage the viue seale;
And when his sorrie Sallarie would gaine,
He oft receaues his labour for his paine.
The poore Pedant, who liues a servile life,
Which ever toiles, turmoiles in endlesse strife;
Must be to all, yea to the Clowne a Salue,
And for his owne, with cap and knee must craue.
The needy student wanting meanes to liue,
Detesting by the former waies to thriue:
The Oc'ean furrowes, being quite out of hope,
And either serues fierce Mavors, or the Pope.
Alas, quoth I, is this the best reward?
That good deserts reapes in this fertile soile?
Yes certs,, said he, but for the soules regard,
T'were better farre at the plow's taile to toile.

Epig. 99. To long Megge of Westm.

All cald thee, long Megge, true; they did not misse;
If broad Megge too, they had not fail'd, I wis.

Epig. 100. To the kinde Reader, of the Censure of my Booke.

Some will, no doubt, thee aske of this my Booke,
Whither 't be good; perhaps thow'lt say, so, so.
Thy Iudgement giue not so, I pray thee, looke:
But hereof rather answere him, no, no.
Then ile be sure to shun each curious frie:
That nought but faults in Writings can espie.

THE SECOND CENTVRIE

Epig. 1. To his worthy Ho: Patronesse, Catherine, Lady Mansell.

Thy splendent name, I doe not knowe rightwell,
Or blazed fame, in praise doth most excel;
But both vnite, and both shall equall be,
Such is thy praise, sans partialitie.

Epig. 2. On our vulgar Pie-Poets.

To the Readers.

An Epigram, I graunt is common grow'n,
Squis'd out of Coblers, Tinkers, base of Trade;
(Whereby of yore the learned well was knowne,
Whose warbling songs was not by Coopers made.)
Such sordid stuffe we should cast of in hast,
And will Sr Sutor not to passe his Last.

Epig. 3. To the learned Divine Mr Francis Sydney

Some of thy name doe braue Tril Pallas Lance;
And thou most graue her Lawrell do'st advance.

Epig. 4. On the Mercilesse Nigard,

To his deere Cosin, Edm: Basset.

The Base, we see do commonly admire,
And high esteeme the Baslings of this Earth:
As Silver, Gold, Brasse, Iron, Lead, and Wire,
So that if famine fals, or pining Dearth,
Scarse will they spare, yea to themselues one crum,
Much lesse to Others, to their Doores which come.

Epig. 5. To his lo: friend Mr M. Hopkins.

VVith dolefull sighes right wel may we compare,
The Levit's living par'd on either side;
By greedy Patron, thence which culs his share,
And Dunstus dumbe, in learning little tri'd:
Vnto the Cheese, which Banbury doth yeeld,
Which looks most poor, on both sid's cleanly peeld.

Epig. 6. The Naturalized Dutchman.

To his kinde Comrade, and Lo: Cosin Mr William Hughes.

VVe say, one fault marres somes good qualities;
But Contrary in the right Flemming borne,
One Good 'mends all his superfluities
Of bad conditions, to be ere forlorne:
His Bibbing, Rashnes, Mercenary fight;
But worthie praise, for serving God aright.

Epig. 7. On the worldlings Avarice.

To his lo: friend Mr Io: Roberts, a laborious preacher of Gods word.

The faithfull Abr'am for his Heritage
Did rest content with promise of a Land:
Whereto the faithlesse Bastards of our Age,
Words nought availe without performance-Band.
Yet see the diffrence 'twixt the Sonnes, and Sire,
He Heaven gate, base Earth they sole Desire.

Epig. 8. Agriculture.

To his lo: friend Io: G.

Like Nero, many do enbowell deepe
Their Mother Earth, for White and yellow Mine:
And others do into Her concaues creepe
Like Pluto's swart, darke coles to digge that shine.
But thou art farre more Naturall then They,
Which dost but Rase thy Mothers face of Clay.

Epig. 9. To one, declining vnder the yoke of Affliction.

VVhat tho thy cofers be not stuffed hard
With Cesars crosses, all of beaten gold:
And all the crosses of the Popes be bard
Thy house; yet faint not, but be ever bold.
For thou hast had those crosses, that exceede
Farre these; which be Christs crosses, best in deed.

Epig. 10. Babilon Metamorphosed.

To his lo: friend Mr Matth. Bennet.

Thou boastest prowd, that thou do'st rule as Queene,
Thou art mistake, 'tis rather like a Quene.

Epig. 11. On Sir Phill: Sidneys Arcadia.

Thy workes are worthy praise, and why I pray?
Because that none can these dispraise, I say.

Epig. 12. To his lo: friend Mr M. Hop: for the loane of Dod, and Cleaver on the Decalogue.

Dod with his Cleaver cleaues the stonie rocke
Of our hard harts through their laborious paine:
And plaines the way most plaine for Christ his flcok,
That leads 'ore hils to the celestiall plaine.
These paire of friends with thankes I send againe,
Though two in Name, in Nature yet not twaine.

Epig. 13. On the monstrous sin of drunkennesse

That

[a]

Sen. de Tronquil anim.

stoicall sage did drunkennesse prescribe
A salue most sure vnto a quiet minde;
Which spuing potion, most of every Tribe,
Now takes, which workes most brauely, as we finde.
It causeth vomits, doth phlebotomize,
And more, the dumbe doth caule to Rhetorize.

Epig. 14. To the hopefull, and courteous Courtier, young Sr Edw. Lewis,

The Court thy Name may better, I confesse:
But not thy nature, lesse I misse to gesse.

Epig. 15. Worm'shead.

To his approved good fr. T. Rog.

A rocke there is, that Worm'shead ha's to name,
Within whose Concaues, fish, and fowle do breed;
A wonder strange, which merits blazing fame,
That stones, the selfe same Rocke, and eke indeed
At the same time, the feathered bird, the fish
Should feed, and stanch their appetites at wish.

Epig. 16. Christ, and Apollo.

To Physitians.

Both, sores of soule and bodie Christ doth cure,
Which cannot Synthius, which you say is sure
A God; and God, they say, can all effect,
But certs, I thinke, your God ha's this defect.

Epig. 17. On our curious questionists.

To his lo. fr. Har. Iohnes.

Too many are of curious Questionists,
That proud demands what God himselfe did frame,
Before a fram'd the world wherein consists
All Cre'tures that both Savage be, and tame.
Which cannot yet their Pater noster say,
Vnlesse perhaps in Latine cleane astray.

Epig. 18. To his lo. fr. Mr VV. Awbrey, an ingenious Anagrammatist, late turned a Minister.

If that the Censure of the Gabalists
Be true, which saith there lies in each mans name,
By the inversion of Hieroglyphists,
His fatall fortunes, or his blazed fame.
Which in thy name thou did'st, I thinke, out finde,
When to that sacred coat thou gau'st thy minde.

Epig. 19. Pengwin, the eight wonder of the world.

To his Cousen Rees Griffith, a Peregrinator.

The vniverse, as we may reade, containes
But only seaven wonders, strange and rare;
The eight, to make the number ev'n, remaines,
Which, Disticke-wise, herein I will declare.
This is a Bird, that Pengwin ha's to name,
Which never slew, and yet was never tame.

Epig. 20. To the courteous Gent. M. Arth. Mansell.

As thou art Arthur excellent in name,
In nature too, I wish thee eke the same.

Epig. 21. The Ile of the Crosse.

I gesse, Columbus gaue that fitting name
To that same Clime, which he calls Crucis Ile;
Because there Cannibals without all shame,
Doe eate mens flesh, which they to them beguile.
Which first they fix vnto a Crux to feede,
Like to an Oxe, being fat they cause to bleede.

Epig. 22. On curious Damætas.

To his Cousen H. Tho. studious in the Bible.

Th' ignorant in this our curious age,
Or little lesse, some Asse of shallow reach,
Will seeme to prate in myst'ries deepe, and sage;
The greatest Clearkes which vex, that write, or preach
And if you tell him, doe this thou shalt liue,
'Tis nought, vnlesse vnto the deapth you diue.

Epig. 23. Iesus College in Oxford, speaking to King Iames.

All things,

[a]

Arist 1. Eth

they say, doe wish a perfect end,
I being vnperfect, doe eke wish the same,
Thy Roy all hand my ragged walles can mend,
And perfect that what Priscious e'n began.
An easier taske, to ioine foure corner stones
In me, then lincke in one foure Nations.

Epig. 24. Mors, Sceptra ligonibus æquat.

Alluding to the death of the most renowned H. Fredericke, Prince of Wales.

O fatall death, can none escape thy Dart?
O gastly Ghost, must all obey thy Hest?
Must Princes, as the beggar feele thy smart?
Must great ones die, sans mercy, as the least?
Henry was young, therefore thou might'st him spare;
Henry was sage, then should'st his life prolong:
Henry was warlike, touch him how could'st dare?
Henry was learned, death thou hast vs' wrong.
Mavors farewell, and learned Mercury,
Since Henry left too soone our company.

Epig. 25 To the most famous, and Heroike Ladie Mary, L. Wroth.

Thy worthy husband Ladifies thee Wroth,
Pray be not so with my poore pen, to place
'Fore R the O; then iustly Lady VVorth
I might thee stile, worth what? hie honours Grace.

Epig. 26. The Canaries.

Those Iles were wont to be call'd fortunate,
Haue now their names Canaries, for the Curres
That breed therein (a Metamorphos'd state,
And strange) which thinks her blest for beastly Burres.
But Bryttaines Ile should certaine more be blest,
If with mad dogs she were the lesser prest.

Epig. 27 Goddesse fortune.

Th' vnfortunate denominat's his name
And fortunate also, from fortune blind:
In Polycrates, and Vlysses fame,
Her constancy vnconstantly we finde.
Th' one she ever cross'd by sea and land,
Th' other blest with her vnblisefull hand.

Epig. 28. Hispana, in Hispanos.

Hispana Ile has in't a wonder rare,
Which Serpents be without all poison strong;
And do not hurt (as stories do declare)
Th' Inhabitants, which do dwell them among;
Which should teach those that cōquer'd first the ile,
To shun to kill, through venom's poisned guile.

Epig. 29. On Terhernes Sepulture.

Terherne thou li'est enterd within the: graue,
Of a blind Monke, in those daies compted wise,
And thou a foole; a Sepulture most braue,
Which doth the idiot, and the Sage comprise.
Yet, thou a foole to greater Blisse mai'st rise,
Then the blind Monke, that was esteemed wise.

Epig. 30. On the feminine Supremacie.

I often hard, but never read till now,
That Women-kinde the Codpeeces did weare;
But in those Iles, the men to women bow,
Which do their names of male, and female beare.
I should therefore the woman iudge to be
The vessell strongst, but Paule denies it me.

Epig. 31. To the right worshipfull and most courteous knight, Sir Lewis Mansell, of his ho: mariage.

The Porcupine, with launces sharpe, and keene,
Doth now not seeke to pearce the Fawchi'on faire:
Nor is the Fawchi'on 'gainst the Griffon seene
To fly; but ioies as friends, a Royall paire.
What is the cause of this their league? thy loue,
Which doth the birds, that's strange, to Vniō moue.

Epig. 32. On Cottulus the vnconstant Professor.

Vnconstant Cottulus, which primly wast,
Preciscian-like, most curious of thy life:
But now that faction thou hast overpast,
And turn'd a Papist, seeds-man ful of strife.
I wonder, what thou thirdly wilt Professe,
Camelion-like, a Newter, as I gesse.

Epig. 33. To his Antiquious Academian friend Mr William Ie.

The Swan, they say, doth sing before he die;
But thine, I wis, did mourne most dolefully.

Epig. 34. On the beloved Gossips, Læna, and Larga.

Læ:
VVhy wilt not Larga, Marry Mr Steere?
A proper man, & wise, no Meacocks Gul:

La:
I tell thee why, I hate a castred Pheere,
And rather chose my Suiter, Maister Bull.

Epig. 35. The Picture of a Paramour.

Most pretty Loue, of all our Loues, which lovest
Never to feed on one sole dainty dish;
But many more do'st tast, and often provest,
Through sweat of Body, and a louely kisse.
Thou ever lov'st variety of cates,
Which honest Vesta, and Mæchaon hates.

Epig. 36. To the gastly Ghost of Terherne.

Some are, which haue grow'n famous by their lore,
By dint of sword, and eke by Prudencie;
But thou (Terherne) renowned wast of yore,
For a pure foole, and nat'rall foolerie.
But here's the difference 'twixt your brinted fame.
Theirs, for their wit, and thine, of folly, came.

Epig. 37. Coed Franke.

Of the knights of St Denis Bathe.

I wonder why men did thee nominate
Coed Franke, in antique Brittaines copious Tongue;
Vnlesse thou got'st it through the French-mans fate,
The gallian griefe, which blasted thee along.
If it be so, let fleshmen learne by thee
To shun the pox; which burn's the very tree.

Epig. 38. Of the lamentable Deaths, of H.3. and H.4. the french kings, murthered by a brase of Fryars.

If

[a]

Gen 49. 5.

Patriarches twaine, in holy write be nam'd

[b]

Gen 34. 5.

Brethren in evill for revenging wronge;
Then may those Brase of Friars well be blam'd,
(Which burn's, sans Mercy, 'mōgst the Hellish thrōge)
For doubtlesse they were brethren in ill,
Which trait'rously France Royall blood did Spill.

Epig. 39. To his Sickloe friend.

Store is no sore, the proverbe verifies;
Which thou find'st false, in store of Malladies.

Epig. 40. To Reverend vida, the filching Preacher.

Gods zeale, (most zealous vida,) Prelate graue,
Did eate thee vp, while that the borrowed oyle
Of others Lampes, did furnish thee most braue,
With Budget Lore, to keepe a preaching coile.
What meanes thy silence? Sure the oile is out,
And being thrust from Moyses chaire, art Mute.

Epig. 41. To plaine Io: the versificator.

VVhat kinde of Poem's thine, I thee besech?
No wittie one, therefore a witlesse speech.

Epig. 42. To Battus, the Catechiser.

Magister Battus of the A.B.C.
I do commende thy conscience for to teach
Thy Punies Raw, without reward, or fee;
Th'wilt serue to catechise, but ill to preach.
Whereas thou dost thy pupils teach for nought,
Right well thou mai'st, thy Lore deseru's not ought.

Epig. 43. On Mistresse Wag-taile.

Thy gadding head, my pretty Mysa sweet,
Did cause thy taile to be most wagging still;
Herein we see both head, and taile do meet
Thy lust ne're satiate seeking to fulfill.
Twas not thy Head, that did thy Taile enflame,
But t'was thy Taile, that did thy Head defame.

Epig. 44. Lex Talionis, on Rot, the Tyrant.

Prowde cruell Rot, which now do'st rot in graue,
That e're wast wont to tread on poore mens necks,
And force the harmeles Gull to be a Slaue,
Vnto thy Threts, and eke commanding cecks.
These all requite thee now with Talio's Law,
And on thy Head do trample without Awe.

Epig. 45. The Cacademons Epitaph.

Heare Batcocke lies, a Cocke too Bad by kinde,
Which ever wak't his Prentises to play
At cardes, whereto he had a zealous minde,
For them he bore in steed of Bookes to pray.
Which being dead, a paire of Cards was found
Vnder his head; to play with vnder ground.

Epig. 46. Socrates.

Thou Socrates the wisest Sage foretold,
That was on earth, while that on earth thou breth'st
Wast not so wise yet, for to choose that Scold,
To be thy wise; thou wisdome herein leau'st.
Vnlesse it were thy patience, for to trie,
If so, our daies yeelds thee many a fry.

Epig. 47. To his honest kinde friend Mr Edw: Andrewes, of the Epithit, Honest.

Honest, a word, I sweare an Adiectiue,
For now a daies, it little stands in steed:
But he that to the Depth of Craft's can diue,
He is the Wiseman that doth now exceed.

Epig. 48. An Anothomy for Husbandry.

Paterne for husbands, Choake thou art of right,
VVhich do'st not choake thy good seed with the Thornes
Of worldly care, to be Miser hight,
Thy lands brings better fruit, then wild Acornes.
This shining candle of thy husbandrie,
Vnder a Bushell doth not hidden lie.

Epig. 49. To the worthie and famous Earle of Notingham, high Admirall of England.

Great number doe on the firme land beare sway,
These thou excell'st, thou mak'st the sea obay.

Epig. 50. The flushing fray.

To his Cousen, Leiftenant Ie. Watkins.

The Flemmings fight is reasonable, yea;
Being reasonlesse, h'ill but or sticke, or snee.

Epig. 51. Omnium rerum vicissitudo est.

Master, Messenger.

Ma.
VVhat's thy name? Messenger? for what I pray?

Me.
Tis Master kind, for your deere loue, I say.

Ma.
Tush, I doe hate, detest thy lawlesse bed,

Me.
You may helpe that, if you doe me but wed.

Ma.
Fie 'tis not fit for females, for to sue;

Me.
Tut, let's conioine, it is the fashion new.

Epig .96. Amicus certus in re incerta cernitur.

To trustie M. Gage.

Thou faithful Gage, that wast a gage indeed.
For loyaltie, and eke for service true,
(Vnto that famous

[a]

Queene Elizabeth.

Prince by God decreed
To Quell the Pope, Religion pure to shewe)
In her distresse; which fewe of thine own name,
To thy pure faith, themselues doe wholly frame.

Epig. 53. To faire fac'd Margaret.

What odd's 'twixt Margarit, a precious pearle,
And Margaret? a sweet and peerelesse Girle.
No odd's I see, for we must buy the one,
And Gratis thee, I thinke, possesse shall none.

Epig. 54. The voluble wheele of fortune.

To the interne friend Mounsier Hie, and M. Low.

Lo.
Thou clim'st the wheele of fortune, Mounsier Hie
And gap'st for glorie, and preferment great;

Hie.
True Mr Low, and thou as fast do'st flie,
And lowe descend'st from fortunes highest seat
Despaire not yet, if fortune, fortune be,
Shee may thy name appropriate vnto me.

Epig. 55. To the worthy Gent. M. Rawley Bussie, involving the earthly Globe, & tossing of the Tenis ball, most expert.

Thy solace is, to volue the orbicke ball
Of this round earth, and eke the Tenis Pile;
Th' one in sporting, which we pastime call,
Th' other, when thy fluent Muse do'st file.

Epig. 56. To Mistris Lightfoot.

I chaunc'd, as once I travail'd to 'oretake
One Mistris Quick, being found'red, making mone:
I ask'd, what did her pace so halting make,
I did my foot, quoth she, hurt 'gainst a stone.
Tis nothing so, said I, kind Mistrisse Quicke,
Your griefe I take, came rather of a pricke.

Epig. 57. Uincit, qui patitur.

To his lo. fr. Rich. Gibons, a Teacher.

If any wish his patience for to try,
Let him, but practise sole thy Ministrie.

Epig. 58. To his fragile firtree staffe.

The Proverb se's, tis better for to bow
Then for to breake, a note of gentlenesse;
But thou, my prop, do'st scorne to stoope so lowe
As bend, a signe, se'st thou of basefulnes.
But breake wilt rather (my most brittle Tree)
Yet doe not so, I prethee, vnder me.

Epig. 59. On Stephen, the bloody Persecutor.

Good Gardiners doe vse for to supplant
Their bad grow'n weeds, their fruitfull hearbes to saue;
But, Gard'ner thou, the flowre of Troynovant,
Did'st thinke to weed, and burie in her graue.
To heavens Reapers, far vnlike wast thou,
To weed the wheat, and let the Ever grow.

Epig. 60. To the worthy Knight, Sr Ro. Wroth, of his house call'd Durance.

Thy Durance keeps in durance none, I heare,
'Lesse be to pertake of thy bounteous cheere.

Epig. 61. On our Popish Fugitiues.

They say, o'refasting doth procure a paine,
(Vertigo hight) the turning of the head:
Which true we find in male contents most plaine,
When of preferments long they haue not sped.
And Arrius-like, which mist his Bishopprick,
Th'ill change their faith, and shewe a Poplsh tricke.

Epig. 62. Mother B's Translation.

Good e'n, most antique, zelous mother B,
This salutation well befits your age:
For while you liue, a vestall you decree
To be, and shun the toies of Pupillage.
And as of old, on Beds you lou'd to play:
So now on Beades you wholy like to pray.

Epig. 63. Licentia Poetica.

To the carping Criticke.

Ivdge not so hard, that Poëts still doe lie,
For what they write, 'tis 'llow'd by Libertie.

Epig. 64. On the Popes Holinesse.

The Romish Canons shamelesly aver,
Their holy Father, God, nor man to be;
What is he then? if that, I doe not erre,
H'is no Angell, of heavens Hierarchie.
Vnlesse be Him, that puts on every Hue
For to deceaue, and this, I thinke, is true.

Epig, 65. To the Paracelsian Empericke.

If all the world were like to Socrates,
That never stood in need of Physicks hand;
How then could'st liue, if this thy art should cease,
Poore Iack, in this, or any other Land?
Would'st thou then be, a graue Sr Iohn by skill?
So, sure more soules, then bodies would'st thou kill.

Epig. 66. Of H. I. king of England, whose invenomed braine, being dead, kill'd his owne Physitian.

What men aliue, being sicke, would oft fulfill,
Thou being dead did'st thy Physitian kill.

Epig. 67. To M. Monoculus, the Sagittarie.

What dire mishap befell you Mounsier Blinck?
That you haue lost your most respected eie:
You tell me, tush, you shall the better wincke
To hit the marke, and let the arrow fly.
I'st so? your shot, I gesse, will be farre wide,
When that you shut the other eie beside.

Epig. 68. To Zantippa, the Scold.

What mary muffe, what mak's thee sweet of hew
And sowre of speech, most bitter, waspish, bad?
I thinke, thou art a most detested shrew;
Or with the Ague, or burnt fever clad.
Which ever fils thy tongue most full of Gawle,
To all distastfull, but to ban, and Brawle.

Epig. 69. The Epitaph of his deerely beloued Scoole-master, M.VV. Edwards:

Here lies the picture of pure honestie.
Here lies, the fire of many a learned Sonne,
Here lies, the zeale of Christianitie,
Here lies, the Patron of Religion.
Here lies, that man, whose life was naught to none,
Here lies, that friend, whom young and old bemone.

Epig. 70. To Rome, with her Romish brood.

Paule

[a]

1 Tim. 2. 3.

saith, a Bishop should a husband be
Of one wife, for to liue a sober life;
But the great Bishop, of the highest degree,
Will haue his Bishops for to haue no wife.
I wonder how from all he cuts this band?
They' are either Eunuches, or play vnder hand.

Epig. 71. To Gill: the fingring Lawier, and ambodexter.

VVhat mak's thee, Gill, the perfect vse to haue,
As well of left, as of thy right hand faite?
Thou Galen-like wilt answer very graue,
Tis o'remuch heat that doth from heart repaire.
I thinke not so, but thy poore Clients gold
Mak's thee to be an Ambodexter bold.

Epig. 72. A new forme of finding out Petigrees.

To Don Stolidus.

My vpstart Gull, that would'st right noble be
In Royall blood (thy labour quite is vaine
Involving bookes of old Antiquitie
For thy base line, not worth thereof the paine)
B' advis'd by me, ope thou an old made Graue;
There thou thy first Genologie shalt haue.

Epig. 73. Tom of Christ Church in Oxford.

To our ceremonious Papists.

The clapping sound of Antichristian Bels,
They say, expels from them their airie Ghosts:
So, Tom, thy sound which all thy mates excels,
Doth thine Oxonians cause to flie their Hoasts.
But if thy sound could sound as far as Spaine,
Their bodies Ghosts, I thinke, would them refraine.

Epig. 74. God, and the Pope.

The sacred Scripture doth for truth record,

[a]

Mat. 22 32.

That God is only of the living God,
And of the dead, he claimes to be no Lord;
But father Pope recalleth with a nod
They say the dead, from Purgatories griefe;
Th'are dead in sinne, that mak's this their beliefe.

Epig. 75. To glorious Mopsa, of her stolen feathers.

VVhy Mistris Noll, do'st thou Adulterate
(From others Royall lines, thy selfe to grace)
Their noble birth, and titles high of state?
That wast at first but poore, obscure and base.
If each should pluck from thy patch't Pedegree
His feathers of, right Æsops Iay might'st be.

Epig. 76. On Cornutus, the Monster.

To his lo: friend Will: Arne.

Of all wilde Birds, I loth the monstrous Bat,
Which is a bird, and eke a filthy beast;
But of tame birds, I do most deadly hate,
That's man in shape, yet hath a Beast-like creast.
Which of these Monsters do'st abhorre the more?
I thinke the tame, that with his Hornes doth Gore.

Epig. 77. Quævis terra alit artem.

To Boorish Petita.

The Latine proverbe doth for truth relate,
That ev'ry land doth Arts divine embrace:
Which every where most true I estimate,
But in Petita, 'mongst that Rusticke Race.
Which studies nought, but most the crooked Law;
And will effect no goodnes, but for Aw.

Epig. 78. To his Cosin Lieftenant William Watkins, of flushings Scituation.

Where flushing stands, the walkers ile, t'was well
So nam'd, for in't walkes many a Sentinell.

Epig. 79. On Nic: Herberts Posie, (Lley Kymero.)

To his worthy Son Mr Will: Herbert.

Thy, (Lley Kymero,) did well Sympathize,
(Right worthy Nich'las) with thy noble minde:
For where thou took'st, thou didst not temporize,
But all thy friends did a sure friend thee find.
Thou wast not like the glosers of our Age,
Which disagree 'most from their Posies Sage.

Epig. 80. To the right Reverend father, Io: King, Bishop of London, a most persuasiue Preacher.

VVhat tho thy hand doth not the Scepter sway,
Thy tongue doth cause full many to obey.

Epig. 81. Tobaccho.

To his respectiue good friend Mr M. Cradocke.

The maior part of our Tobacchonists,
Tak's sole the shaddow of this smoakie weed:
But thou here of contrary often whift's
The substance all of this prodigious Reed.
I grant the substance doth the shaddow passe
In all besides; saue in this Indian Grasse.

Epig. 82. A paire Royall of Clerkes.

To his friend Tho: Prichard.

Three sorts there be, which Clerks be call'd by name,
The first of right is the superlatiue,
The Bible Clerke, that doth expound the same;
The next in Rancke is the Comparatiue,
The Pen and Inkorne Clerke; that bandeth men;
The third, the positiue, that cries, Amen.
But prowd comparisons were odious farre,
'Twixt these same Clerkes, for their Scholaritie;
Yet my braue Scribe will make no bones to iarre,
Yea with the best, in case of felonie.
But poore Dingdong will not offend his sire,
For feare to loose his small collected hire.

Epig. 83. Of the Ambitious.

To his cosen Io: Vaughan of his fall from Wormshead.

Some fall, whose falling doth their Deaths procure,

[_]

Wormshead.

Thy fall was great, yet doth thy life remaine;
The ods is, they themselues to climbe invre,
And sithence, thou from climing do'st refraine.

Epig. 84. To Sir Humfrey the Recorder.

Thow Humfrey kep'st a calender most streight
Of others faults, by Word, or Deed, ere sure;
But neere I thinke, most hatefull, carelesse weight,
Kep'st true accompt of thine owne Crimes vnpure.
I deeme thou could'st not, cause they did surmount
The'others slips, which thou so high didst count.

Epig. 85. To Morus, the Baulepate.

Good Mr More, what made your pate be bawle?
You say, you were borne vnder Venus starre,
Whose Constellation made your haire to fall,
And eke the credit of your crowne to marre.
But, as I cast, of this your great mishap,
You lull'd were rather vpon Venus lap.

Epig. 86. Cupid, the blind God.

To his lo: friend Mr William Williams.

Why ist that Poets stile thee but a boy?
Since that thou art a thousand yeares of age;
No marvaile, for thy dotage loue, thy ioy,
With childish youth doth even equipage.

Epig. 87. To Cæcus, the painefull Preacher, of our Dumbe Dogges.

Thou seest not, yet makest others see
Their hainous sinnes, through thy laborious paine:
When Linx-ei'd Drones, which ever idle be,
With taking-paines do never one soule gaine.
Thy sight, their livings eke, I wish to thee,
So that thou wouldest then not idle be.

Epig. 88. To his loving friend Io: Spencer, skilfull in Arithmeticke, of Mounsier Mutilus.

Thy numbring art the plurall number loues,
And doth casheere the singular, as none:
But Mutilus, Grammarian-like stout proues
The singular; as Lapis, his sole stone.

Epig. 89. On bibbing Belgicus.

To his cosin Io: Watkins, ensigne bearer.

Flemmingo vseth after every whiffe,
His kind Comrade to take fast by the hand;
He se's, it is to shew his kindnesse rife,
But 'tis, I gesse, because he cannot stand.

Epig. 90. On Del Lucifer.

To his friend Mr Edw. Robinson, Cler.

VVhat tho Superbus from the Dunghill crept,
Thy holy function scornes with open throat;
Yet be content, forgiue and eke forget,
Sith Christ himselfe did dignifie thy coat.
Yet suffer Cinicke, when that he is dead,
To Hearse him, where the Cuckoe first was bred.

Epig. 91. The Imparatiue Moode.

To my Lady Myso.

I wonder greatly what thy Mood should be,
Indicatiue? no, that doth reason shew,
But thine is madd; nor Subiunctiue I see,
That should depend sole on thy husband true.
But thine, sans doubt, is the Imperatiue,
Which makes thee dayly with thy Make to striue.

Epig. 92. To the ingenious Poet, Mr William Herbert of his booke intituled the Prophesie of Cadwalader.

Thy Royall Prophesie doth blaze thy name,
So Poets must, if they will merit fame.

Epig. 93. To the snarling censurer.

Reader, perhaps thou wilt my Muse dispraise
Of Barrennes, which was a curse of yore;
It is not so, note thou her fathers daies,
A youngling, able to beget yet more.
If idle, vaine, thou deeme it, and vnfit:
An idle vaine becomes a childish wit.

Epig. 94. On Montanus, the Bibber.

To his loving friend Mr William Thomas.

Thy Nectar, Quondam, was but whiggin small,
Alias sowrewhay, how ist that nought but wine
Thy slippery palate now doth taste at all?
That ne're was Prest in Boreas freezing clime.
No marvaile, for thy body is so bet
With cold, which thou dost seeke with Ale to Heat.

Epig. 95. On Simon Magus, the Roman,

To his lo. fr. and familiar, M.I. Vaughan

God gratis giues his Grace most liberally,
But man will not without a Simons fee.
Which was the cause, as farre as I perceaue,
That caused thee sweet Oxford for to leaue.

Epig. 96. On Luke-warme loue.

To his lo. and approved good Cousen Mr Edw. Gamage,

Loue now adaies is neither hot, nor cold,
Th' wilt aske me then, what i'st? I say luke-warme;
Why then t's Bet, thou se'st, then that of old,
O, no, this warme ha's int the greater harme.

Epig. 97. Tempus edax rerum.

To the learned Historian, his lo. friend, M.VV. Meyricke.

Time doth in time, they say, all things devoure,
And eke forgets each learned Mercurie,
Saue the Historian, only times fresh flowre,
Which never fad's, much lesse doth ever die.
For't cannot be, that time can blot his name,
Which doth of time Records most antique frame.

Epig. 98. On Iudeas, the Usurer.

To his loving Cosen Iohn Stradling.

VVhat makes that Beggars in thy neighbourhood,
Poore silly wretches, numberlesse to swarme?
Tis not, I weene, for thy devotion good;
But rather t's for thy purlonging harme.
Which suffer'st none to thriue that liues at hand;
But begger'st all, by purchasing their land.

Epig. 99. To the Readers of his Epigrams.

In the Popes tongue I list not to endite:
'Cause of my rime all men should haue the sight.

Epig. 100. To the Printer, of Detractors.

The Captaine presse the Souldier to repell
The furious force of foemens cruell hand:
So do'st thou presse some Papers, that excell,
Yet must they cankred tongues of men withstand.
A wonder t'is, the tongue for the hand, right
Should warre; no force, tis but a womans fight.

Disce aut Discede.

W. G. FORLORNE HOPE, SAYLING, and Salling forth, vnder the duskie Colours of the envious vniverse.

Epig. 1.

[March forward, Muse, thy Patronesse is great]

March forward, Muse, thy Patronesse is great,
And if she proue as good, I feare no ill.
But spac'ous fields h'as Tares as well as wheat,
Besides the Dolphin, Sea h'as Crocodill.
If one Mecæne yet, vnder Heavens Cope
Thou find'st; th'art not a quite forlorne hope.

Epig. 2. On Tricongius, who was made Consull by Tyberius Cæsar, only for his Drinking.

If that our Bibbers now adaies, should haue
As large a Guerdon, as thou had'st of yore;
I thinke we should, of every Tankard slaue,
Great Magistrats, then privat men, haue more.

Epig. 3. On conscionable Surdaster.

Thou se'st, that all thy hearing thou hast lost,
That's true; withall, I thinke, thy feeling too;
How then can'st liue? for this maintaineth most
Within vs life, as often read we doe;
And yet thou liu'st tho quite without remorse,
So, many doe, to sin that nothing force,

Epig. 4. On Lollus loftie Tombe.

VVhhat made the build thy statue eu'n so hie?
Whereas thy stature low on ground did lie?
This was to grace a stupid, liuelesse stone
More then thy selfe; t' was well, for thou had'st none.

Epig. 5. On Cherillus the Poet.

Pan is not dead, since Pas began to sing.
Who all excels in consorts iarring string.

Epig. 6 To his loving, and beloued Cosen, M. I. Pralph Cler. of the Sager, a Hill scituated in parish. apud Heref.

Moses, before the heavenly Canan saw,
Did first ascend the top of Nebo's Mount;
Wherefrom he might a viue description draw
Of Earthly Canan, the first's Type in compte.
So maist thou climbe to Sagers loftie Hill,
And Canan vew as t'were, a pleasant plaine;
To meditate of heav'nly Canan t'will
Thee instigate assured, as I faine.
Vse to ascend this hill most pleasant, hie:
So, Heaven on earth thou mai'st see, yer thou die.

Epig. 7. Nusquam tuta fides.

To Firmus, the Camelion.

I wonder, Firmus, why thy faith is fraile
To some? whose name approues a constancie;
Tis certs, because they be not head, and taile
Thine; both in falsehood, as in veritie.

Epig. 8. To the Holy Well, on Maw verne Hill.

We often read that Myracles haue ceast,
Which otherwise seemes by thy golden fame,
(Blaz'd farre and wide: almost to East and West)
Which curest all, the vlc'rous, blind, and lame.
These myracles, God grant, they be not Mould
In the Popes forge; as Counterfeits of old.

Epig. 9. To M. Heaven of Heaven, in the Countie of Heref.

Thou happie seem'st, two Heavens which possest,
Thy dwelling one, the other is thy name;
Striue to enioy, (and sure thou shalt be blest)
The third, which was that Saints, of greatest fame.

Epig. 10. Decimæ Minutæ.

To the Ministers of Gods word.

This phrase you vse for your small Tithes by rate.
And for your greater too, you may vse that.

Epig. 11 On Cressa's feminine flaterie.

Perfidious wretch, what made thee cracke thy faith?
Which once thou vow'st for to obserue and keepe:
But that is true, which the old Proverbe saith,
Beware a woman when she gin's to weepe.

Epig. 12. On Bariesus, the Magician, and his Sectaries

Thy hatefull name agrees with thy black art;
Who vr's it, barr's quite Iesus from his hart.

Epig. 13. On the whore in Graine, Helen of Greece.

One staine, we read, did staine thy sunnie face;
But thy stain'd life, thy corps did more disgrace.
This one spot did not more, thy sweet face marre,
Then thy lust Ilion did; in Troian warre.
Thinke not therefore it shame to haue a staine:
But count it shame, to be a whore in Graine.

Epig. 14. To his lo. fr. M. VV. Galloway, an Irish Gent. a student at Grayes Inne, of his fortunate escape of shipwracke at Gorwer sland.

The drowning waters, and the burning fire,
Are elements, sans mercy, as we say;
Whose formers foming rage, thou did'st admire,
When shipwrack thou sustaind'st in Sillies Bay:
Yet mercifull was Neptunes God to thee,
Which Selde is cruell to Scholaritie.

Epig. 15. Blind affections picture.

To Dunce the Pesaunt.

VVhat mak's thee, Dance, Dick Trūcus to cōmend?
Of no Deserts a Boore, a Corridon;
Thou sai'st, because he is thy worships friend,
And, whome, the current of thy loue runnes on.
But wherefore do'st, Nick Laudus, so dispraise?
A Gentleman of fashion, and of sort.
Forsooth, thou sai'st, thou can'st not brooke his waie,
His comely carriage, or his seemely port.
See then affection, whether good, or ill:
Laud's, or defames according to his will.

Epig. 16. The Epitaph of Sir William Harbert of Swansey.

To his right Ho: brother, Sir Io: Herbart second Secretarie of state.

If home-bred knowledge, or yet foreigne skill,
If sundry tongues, or Phisickes Princely art,
If noble cariage, eloquence at will,
Could thee haue kept from Deaths pale-Ebone dart,
Thou yet hadst liu'd, a glory to thy name,
The Poore-mans prop, and eke thy countries fame.

Epig. 17. To our wise Brittish Barde, Mr W: Matthew, Esquire; for wit, and iudgement excellent.

I wote not which thy outward sense, thy eare,
Or inward els, thy braine, doth most excell;
For, as we say, the former is the chaire
Of iudgement, th' other is inventions cell.
Thy braine, doth thine owne litterature invent,
Thy eare, on others labours, doth comment.
Which most excell's, I cannot well impart.
But leaue it thee, the fit'st for Logick's Art.

Epig. 18. To his lo: Cosin H. Price, of Neptunes Purgation.

If thou art sicke, and wouldst a vomit take;
If thou art well, and willing wouldst be sicke.
The sea for both will thee a med'cine make,
Killing the whole, the dead reviving 'quicke.
This brackish purge excels farre Hellobore,
For nought, besides perbraking, pai'st therefore.

Epig. 19. The Papists, and Anabaptists Symphathized.

Through imitation, the Anabaptist's say
Their sinnes proceede, from their forefathers old:
The Papists eke their sinfull sect obey:
Because their Sires were hatcht in the same fold.

Epig. 20. To his old friend and Schoolefellow, Mr D. Ien-Ienkins, a worthy Barrister in the Lawes.

Our famous Ploydon we as yet Embrace,
Since thou dost liue to plead graue Ploydons case

Epig. 21. Patience is a Vertue.

To his lo: Cosin, and deere alismar, Hop: Thomas.

Patience endures the Brunt of all assaults.
For frowning fortune can it nought displease;
Nor, can it grieue base feigned friendships faults,
Nor yet, being wrong'd, from constancie will cease,
Therefore, a peerelesse vertue, patience is,
Whereto nothing, at no time, comes amisse.

Epig. 22. Of the wonder, in Herefordshire; being a Peece of ground, that mov'd of it selfe.

Philosophers, for truth doe testifie,
Our Mother earth immovable to be;
But thy selfe motion strange Philosophie,
These Sages wise, proues liers, as we see.
If this thy motion had continu'd ay,
Our Aristotle we might iust gainesay.

Epig. 23. To his lo: and constant friend Mr Moore

Altho thy name might thee vnconstant proue;
The contrary we finde in thy firme loue.

Epig. 24. An Adonicke.

On Mysa and Mopsa, two Honest Scoulds.

Yow both togither
Iarring asunder:
Farre should be rather
Birds of one feather.
Since your pure living,
Ioin'd in one trading:
Never omitting
Your Mates defaming.

Epig. 25. Semel insanivimus omnes.

To his Cosin, Mr I.P.

The proverbe se's, that all the best of any
Hath once bin mad; that once is certs too many;
But, after once, we come to perfect wit,
Worth small dispraise, I deeme that franticke fit.

Epig. 26. To the best Indenture drawer, Titubus, the nightwalker of fleet streete.

VVhat mak's thee walke, so late against the law?
Kinde Mr Chach, I do Indentures Draw:
Indentures draw, in the darke, gloomy night?
Whose Manuscript requires a brighter light.
You are mistake, we seld vse light, or hand:
We write e're Best, when scarse we see, or stand.

Epig. 27. To the ever living, and never dying memory of the most Reverend father in God, Io: Whitgift, late Archb: of Canterburie.

Right reverend prelate of our Church divine,
Strong, sollid piller of Gods holy Arke,
Bright Beacon, which in continence didst shine,
Sole, chiefest Scholars comfortable Marke.
Thy name, Whitgift, for nought was sure not hight:
For both in life, and lore thy Gifts were Whit.

Epig. 28. On the most ho: and worthy lo: Lord Viscount de Lisles Posie.

Quò me fata vocant.

Thy splendent Posie, well agrees with thee,
Renowned Lord, bright Sydney's shining Lampes
For where so e're th'art call'd by Destenie,
Thou ready art, for Court, or els for Campe.
In one, or both thy praise doth most surpasse;
Such ever, Sydneys Trophies noble, was.

Epig. 29. To the Malevolent, and Taxing Censurer, of his Epigrammes.

If thou of glory vaine wilt me accuse,
These worthlesse lines in promulgating out;
Belieue it then, I will not, Mome, refuse
The lie to giue thee, if a Souldiour stout.
Twas friends, not fame that these made publike thē:
In Lethe's lake, els drench't had bin my pen.

Epig. 30. To his friend the Printer of his booke.

Some volumes bring in folio to thy presse,
In quarto some, according to their lore;
'Mongst all the learned, I which am the lesse,
One in octavo bring thee, all my store.
I'le it not fould in sexto decimo,
Least, as the Tome, his count, as little, grow.
Respect the paper, though a pen worth small;
Twill sixe for one cert's yeeld thee at thy stall.

Epig. 31. On the Authors vneven period of his forlorne Hope.

Thy hopelesse name, stiles thee with no good hap,
Thy Numbers odd's approues thee happy yet:
For ioy therefore thy Plaudities forth clap;
Thy one and thirty, right the Game has hit.