University of Virginia Library

THE PHILOSOPHERS SEVENTH Satyr of the Moone.

Of all the Planets, this appeares most strange
In apparitions and inconstant change:
Sometime she like a sithe her face doth show,
That barbes the fields, when they vnciuill grow:
Sometimes againe she like a rounded-ball:
Her crumped hornes appeare most sphæricall:
Which forms the bright Sun (heauens imperial starre)
Prints in her pale cheeke with his golden carre:
Sometimes approaching with his stately head
But once a month, Lordlike his Ladies bed:
Which is the reason why her plumpe fac't Rheumes
Swell man and beast, plants, mines in pleni-lunes,
As she is neere or distant from the sunne:
So diuers in aspects her courses runne,
Empresse of floods, that swelst as thou dost please
The fluxe, and refluxe of the sturdie Seas:
Whisper to Nature that deepe misterie
Of Neptunes mightie tides, whose sophistrie
Made that great probleme maister dash his braine,
Against the billowes of the curled maine,
Making the Ocean, with his spatious roome,
At once his graue, his coffin, sheete and tombe.
His double motion (as some vnderstand)
Was not receiued from Gods eternall hand:
Although his bounds the Mouer hath assign'd,
To which the headstrong Ocean is confin'd,
But from that glorious siluer-fronted starre.
That giues high floods, or ebs, as pleaseth her:
But why, my Nectared Muse dost thou distill
Such Rosie-adors from thy bitter quill:
And cease to aduance vnto thy Satyrs reede:
To nettle time and make abuses bleede.
Lanch the impostumed age vnto the quicke,
And (Dutchman-like) with desperate fencing sticke.
Among all things that subiect are to change,

Copernicus his opinion.

There's nothing fixt, but is inclinde to range:
Which made Copernicus this Maxime proue,
That the fixt earth did from his center moue:
If nothing then in earth, in seas, or skies:
But (Proteus-like) to change it selfe applies.
Bright weather-cocke of heauen, let me vnstrip
The changing influence of thy Ladyship.
Woman, I could like bels thy changes ring,
And like a foule-mouthd Mantuan raile and sing
“Of thy inconstant words, vncertaine vowes:
“Change of thy smiles, thy passions, and thy browes:
“Change of thy heart, hand, tongue, and rowling eye:
“Change both in loue, and hate setremitie:
“Change to all changes, and if more change may
“From Saint to diuell, change euen when you pray.
But I enough haue dwelt vpon your starre,
Let it suffise, the world knowes what you are,
A Bit-borne curse, an Eele, a Bee to sting:
A Cockatrice to kill, Syren to sing.
But leauing you for mans eternall bane:
Bright Cynthia, let me sing th'inconstant vaine
Of these vncertaine times, and truly show
How all things change, and with thy beames do flow:
Nor woman, nor the change of elements,
Nor the Moones changes do more change present;
Then the inconstant monstrous multitude:
Whose giddy Hydra-beads all formes include,
Marke how the winds breaking their brazen-guard,
Changes each point of compasse, or of card:
Sometimes full East, sometimes againe full west.
So change the furies of the poopels brest:
A great-mans fortune, that like full-Moones rise
Like Dolphins, these adore; but when it dies,
And wants from fuller influence of Respect.
When his ambitious beames no more reflect.
Vpon the baser bodies; then their tide
In shallow ebbes, and falling currents aside:
As greatmens miserie, that like the Sun
Attended with twelue-signes their progresse run,
when their bright honors do ascend the skie
Like Aries then they beare him companie,
In comfort of his spring-tide and high state.
Adore the high Solstitiall of his fate:
But when his rising honors do decline,
Then with his fall fals the dissembling signe
Into Aquarius, and from their eyes
Drop onely teares to shrowd him, when he dies.
The Peacooketraine of heauens all-colourd bow,
Paints not more colours then these Iayes do show
That haue the falling-sicknesse: when such fall,
Moores at their East, Dogs at their funerall.
Oh Popularitie that cost more heads
Then there are worms within their shamed beds,
To eate their treasons with their honord bones
To their first elements, or weeping stones,
To wash their shame in teares: how haue your charms
Betrayed the nobler parts of Arts and Armes
To an vntimely graue, which time shall write
In bleeding characters to after-fight.
How many stately Cedars haue you lopt,
VVhose state cloud-kissing-branches ouertopt
The humble shrub, whose ruin'd timber lies
To build new hopes to their dead families.
Here could my Muse with history conclude
The fatall changes of the multitude.
And like a vizard to Nobilitie,
Fright their depending popularitie.
But this in breefe true subiects shall suffise,
“He's wisest, that by others harmes growes wise,
When I behold the Queene of seas and night,
Shifting her formes in changes to our sight.
I see the world (Cameleon-like) pursue
Her changing humors and her diuers hue.
Sometimes me thinks I see a peasant ride,
In his full-moone, of surfet and of pride,
As if he tilted gainst authoritie,
Defied his Taylors importunitie,
Scornd his poore Saffron-laundresse and his hoast,
Beat his poore Shoomaker, and rid in post
To dicing-Tauerns, next day without faile
His moone is chang'd, he damned in a Iayle.
Sometimes I see some sacred reliques turnd
To Theaters prophane, and tapers burnd
For damned Comedies, where singing quires
At midnight cast their odoriferous fires:
Which to a diuell would appeare a change
Of most vnchristian toleration strange:
Sometimes I see more then mine eyes would see
Steeples to stables turn'd, and Sanctitie,
Chang'd into rauenous Roabes of pollicie.
That I more wonder at this transmutation,
Then at the Moones alturnate alteration:
Againe, reflect mine eye vpon the age
That was and is, I see times pilgrimage
Corrupted with such pestilence of euill,
That man to man turnes wolfe: nay more a diuell.
I see ambition begging innocence
Well-landed, for a foole; as if all sense
Were tied to pompe or policie of state
That our best landed men are fooles by fate:
Which makes me count a Scholler blest in Schooles,
Which though they begge: the'r seldom begd for fools
He's got in an Eclipse, so weake by birth,
He liues by th'aire; hath not a foote of earth:
This is a fatall thing, prodigious chance:
Great fortunes fauour grossest ignorance.
Sometimes I see the euer-turning spheare
Of man and fortune like new-Moones appeare.
Still waxing to a full increase of light,
Till it seeme round full-circled and most bright
To all men eyes: till by the darkesome shade
Of some mischance, a blacke eclipse be made.
Thus haue I seene inconstant Tradesmen floate
Now rich, to morrow broake not worth a groate.
Tis the condition of this glorious frame,
And all things that beneath the Moone we name:
Nay, eu'n the things aboue her orbed-face,
Do couet changes from their naturall place.
Till with mutations, all things thinke it best,
To melt vnto their Chaos, and so rest.
When man is borne, and (speechlesse) prophesies
Of times successions, and his miseries:
He first begins to waxe; then wanes to worse,
Sees many Moones, and then begins to curse
The changes of the times: which many yeares.
His vexed soule hath markt the swift careeres
Of Sunne and Moone, and notes the age turnd Iew,
With tedious howers: then he bids adeiw
Vnto his golden daies, when in his rage,
His long liu'd tongue speakes of the wicked age,
Tels what a braue world twas, when Bullens towers,
Trembled like Aspen leaues at Henries powres:
Obseruing not the world the same to stand.
VVhen tis mens manners change and not the land:
Here could I sing the changes of all states,
Eu'n from the conquering and victorious gates
Of Tyber-grasping Roome, tell of her storie,
VVrite of her changes and her waning glorie.
Euen to this mightie Westerne Monarchie.
Since first the Danes subdude her libertie.
But more then I can write, all things perswade.
What euer were, or is to be, shall fade.
And though the world were euiternall thought,
Tis not eternall, but shall change to nought:
But now I turne my sailes from seas to land.
Here's more then men will reade or vnderstand:
Though orderly next to the firmament,
These wandring planets do themselues present:
And next to them earth, water, aire, and fire:
Succeed in place my spirit to inspire,
VVith matter of diuine Philosophie,
To tell of euerie primate qualitie:
That with predomination doth present
The Lordly pride of euerie Element
In bodies mixt: and first I should repaire
To the three Regions of the subtill Aire:
Tell of the fearefull Comets in the skie,
Whose diuers formes giue to the prodigie
Ten fearefull seuerall kinds: which so we name
As they are diuers in their formes or flame:
Of thunder, lightning, and their blasting might,
Of haile, snow, raine, and tempests of the night,
Of Fiers, that haunt Churchyards and forlorne graues:
Of Winds by which our ships dance on the waues:
Of earthquakes, and the veines of euerie mine.
Of gold, for which we cut the burning line:
Of plants, of trees, and of their qualities,
How in their formes and place they simbolize.
And how againe for enuie and despight,
The vine and Colewort neuer do delight
To grow one by another: then to sing,
Of glistering Iewels, and each pretious thing:
To tell the vertue of the Chrysolite,
The sparkling Carbuncle that shines by night,
The purple Hyacinth, whose stone imparts
Sollace and mirth to our griefe-nummed harts:
The heauenly Azure Saphirs qualitie,
Whom Authors say, preserueth chastitie,
The greene Smaragdus, foe to Venus reakes,
Whose stone in hot coniunction blushing breakes,
And many more, that by the glorious Sunne
In the earths wombe take their conception,
These in their order should my pen incite
Of Natures vniuersall workes to write,
And in sweet morall lectures to applie
The worlds abuses to their misterie:
But that I hardly can be brought, to thinke
The time loues gaull, by which I make mine inke,
Or haue so much wit in their shallow braines.
To reade and vnderstand me for my paines.
For by this plague we euer are outstript,
When we whip others we our selues are whipt
By Carters, and poore silly senslesse hinds;
Whose grosser bodies carry grosser minds
For vnderstanding: such lend onely lookes,
And thinke of Poems as of coniuring bookes:
Where in they see braue circles to the eye,
But more admire then know the misteriee
Of Arts profunditie: I feare none but such:
My selfe hath liu'd too long, and writ too much.