Songs and other poems (1664)

My lovely Cælia, while thou dost enjoy
Beauty and youth, be sure to use 'um,
And be not fickle, be not coy,
Thy self or Lovers to destroy.
Since all those Lillies and those Roses,
Which Lovers find, or love supposes,
To flourish in thy face,
Will tarry but a little space;
And youth and beauty are but only lent
To you by nature, with this good intent,
You should enjoy, but not abuse 'um,
And when enjoyments may be had, not fondly to refuse 'um.

2

Let lovers flatt'ry ne'r prevail with thee;
Nor their oyl'd complements deceive thee,
Their vows and protestations be
Too often meer Hypocrisie:
And those high praises of the witty
May all be costly, but not fit ye,
Or if it true should be
Now what thy lovers say of thee,
Sickness or age will quickly strip away
Those fading glories of thy youthful May;
And of thy graces all bereave thee;
Then those that thee ador'd before will slight thee, and so leave thee.

3

Then while thou'rt fair and young, be kind, but wise,
Doat not, nor proudly use denying;
That tempting toy thy beauty lies
Not in thy face, but lovers eyes.
And he that doats on thee may smother
His love, 'ith beauty of another,
Or flying at all game
May quench, or else divert his flame.
His reason too may chance to interpose,
And love declines as fast as reason grows.
There is a knack to find loves treasures
Too young, too old, too nice, too free, too slow, destroys your pleasures.

Song XXXIX. The Mad Lover.

I have been in love, and in debt, and in drink
This many and many a year;
And those three are plagues enough one would think
For one poor mortal to bear.
'Twas drink made me fall into Love,
And Love made me run into debt,
And though I have strugled and strugled and strove,
I cannot get out of them yet.
There's nothing but money can cure me,
And rid me of all my pain.
'Twil pay all my debts,
And remove all my lets,

And my Mistris that cannot endure me,
Will love me, and love me again,
Then I'll fall to loving and drinking amain.

Song XL. The Murmurer.

1

Let's lay aside plotting and thinking,
And medling with matters of State,
Since we have the freedome of drinking,
'Tis a folly to scribble or prate.
The great ones have nothing to think on,
But how to make fools of the small;
We Cavaliers suffer and drink on,
And care not a louse for 'um all.

2

We thought it was matter of danger
To be Rebels against our Prince;
But he that is not a meer stranger,
May see it is otherwise since.
'Tis only the petty Delinquent
With whom the matter goes hard;
Where ever much boldness and Chink went,
There honour's bestow'd and reward.

3

To keep up a turbulent nature,
And fear neither God nor the King;
To be a significant Traytor,
Is an advantageous thing.
But since it has ever been so,
And so it will ever be,

Let it end as it did begin, so
That it never do trouble me.

Song XLI. A Round.

Sit round, sit round, leave musing and thinking,
Hang caring and working, let's fall to our drinking;
The works of our hands
Shall purchase no lands,
But in spight of all care wee'l be frolick;
He that does the glass skip,
May he die of the pip,
Or be lowsie that none shall endure him;
Or be plagu'd with the stone or the cholick,
And find ne'r a Surgeon to cure him.

Song XLII. The Cavalier.

We have ventur'd our estates,
And our liberties and lives,
For our Master and his mates,
And been toss'd by cruel fates,
Where the rebellious Devil drives,
So that not one of ten survives.
We have laid all at stake
For his Majesty's sake,
We have fought, we have paid,
We've been sold and betray'd.

And tumbled from nation to nation,
But now those are thrown down
That usurped the Crown,
Our hopes were that we
All rewarded should be,
But we're paid with a Proclamation.

Now the times are turn'd about,
And the Rebels race is run:
That many headed beast, the Rout,
Who did turn the Father out
When they saw they were undon,
Were for bringing in the Son.
That phanatical crue
Which made us all rue,
Have got so much wealth,
By their plunder and stealth,
That they creep into profit and power:
And so come what will,
They'll be uppermost still;
And we that are low,
Shall still be kept so
While those domineer and devour.

Yet we will be loyal still,
And serve without reward or hire,
To be redeem'd from so much ill,
May stay our stomacks, though not fill;
And if our patience do not tire,
We may in time have our desire.

Song XLIII. A Wife.

1

Since thou'rt condemn'd to wed a thing,
And that same thing must be a she;
And that same she to thee must cling
For term of life of her and thee;
I'll tell thee what this thing shall bee.

2

I would not have her virtuous,
For such a wife I ne'er did see;
And 'tis a madness to suppose
What never was, nor e'er shall bee;
To seem so is enough to thee.

3

Do not desire she should be wise,
Yet let her have a waggish wit;
No circumventing subtilties,
But pretty slights to please and hit,
And make us laugh at her, or it.

4

Nor must thou have one very just,
Lest she repay thee in thy kind;
And yet she must be true to trust;
Or if to sport she has a mind,
Let her be sure to keep thee blind.

5

One part of valour let her have;
Not to return but suffer ill,
To her own passion be no slave
But to thy law's obedient still,
And unto thine submit her will.

6

Be thou content she have a tongue,
That's active so it be not lowd;
And so she be straight-limb'd and young,
Though not with beauty much endow'd,
No matter, so she be but proud.

7

Tir'd she should be, not satisfi'd,
But alwaies tempting thee for more,
So cunningly she bee n't espy'd.
Let her act all parts like a whore,
So she bee n't one, I'ld ask no more.

8

But above all things, let her be
Short liv'd and rich, no strong-dock'd Jone,
That dares to live till 53,
Find this wife, if thou must have one;
But there's no wife so good as none.

Song XLIV. On the Queens Arrival.

1.

From the Lusitanian Shore,
Our triumphing Ships are come
Proudly with their royal lading,
Which Britain, that now truly's great, enjoys at home,
And needs no more abroad to rome,
But may now give over trading.
For we have that Jewel whose value is more,
Then all one India's Spice, or t'other India's Ore.

2.

Katharina Queen of love!
England's joy and admiration!
Fit to be made a Spouse to Jove,
Spains terrour, yet their emulation;
The Portuguez riches, their glory and pride,
Who now are become but a rifled nation,
Such a cœlestial consort to bring
To the embraces of Brittains King:
The world yields not so glorious a Bride,
Nor is there a Prince that merits the bliss
Of so great beauty, but so good a King as this.

3.

Now let sea and land rejoyce,
Tagus yields us golden sands;
All that have feet, or hands, or voyce,
In these two united lands,
Lift them up, rejoyce and sing;
Blessed Queen and happy King!

Chorus.

Long live Charles and Katharina!
To testifie our joy,
We sung Vive le Roy;
But now wee'l sing Vive le Roy & la Reigna.

Song XLV. A Friend.

Fain would I find out a friend that is true;
That we may live freely together:
But men are grown false, and friends are but few,
And as fickle in mind as a feather.

That man I suspect, who much zeal does pretend,
And will not our frailties connive at,
His looks and his words are both fram'd to his end,
While some underhand-cheat he does drive at.

He that still laughs in tune, and smiles in my face,
And appears very courteous and civil;
If I trust him but once, I shall find him as base
And perfidious as the Devil.

A man of a niggardly soul I despise,
His Avarice makes him slavish;
For he that his wealth more than honour doth prize,
Will not only be sordid but knavish.

He that soon grows rich from a beggerly life,
Is not for my conversation;
He's as proud as a Presbyter Parson's wife,
Or a new made corporation.

But he that is generous, jolly and wise,
Good natur'd and just to any one,
Such person I love and extol to the skies;
He shall be my friend and companion.

University of Virginia Library

I. [PART I.]

Song XXIX. Out of Catallus .

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Song XXXVIII. Advice to Cælia .

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