University of Virginia Library

To his dear friend Mr. Alex. Brome, upon the publishing his Poems.

My kind Affections will shew forth thy wit,
Although't be by a simple opposite;
For thou preventest all Ingenuous proems,
Ingrossing all the wit within thy Poems;
But yet there's something left for me to do,
Which would bo folly if perform'd by you:
And that's to praise loth thee, and them, whose glory
Shall reign with thy loyal Congratulatory
And daring Speech, made in Clothworkers-Hall,
Which overcame, and made the General,
Who made us all, by making all his men,
Rank as they were, to bring our Kings agen,
By being subject to our Lawful Prince,
Whose damned Exile, made us Slaves e're since:
And so confin'd thy fancy, that thy Fame
(Till his return was) kept without a Name.
Though thou hast been Libellish all these times,
Against the changing Powers; yet some Crimes
Thou didst conceal, which did thy prudence shew,
To keep their vices for their overthrow;
Reserving still some strength as a redoubt,
Fearing the Rumpish rear might face about;
And made our Kings de facto, and of right
In Charles the Second justly to unite;
Who soon inlarg'd thy Muse, which free,
Hath bound us to our Laws for liberty:
To whom I do subscribe, (since our Commander,
In name's as good as is Great Alexander).

To his Ingenious Friend Mr. A. B. upon his most excellent Poems.

As Pictures by their soyles seem better drest,
I can but be, Thy Blackamore at Best.

I. [PART I.]

Song XXIX. Out of Catallus .

Song XXXVIII. Advice to Cælia .

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.

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.

Song XLIII. A Wife.

Song XLIV. On the Queens Arrival.

Song XLV. A Friend.

II. PART. II.

Song XXXII. Made and Set Extempore.

Song XXXIII. The Answer to the Curse against Ale.

XVIII. A Ballad.

EPISTLES.

XLIX. To his Friend Thomas Stanley, Esq; on his Odes Set and Published by Mr. John Gamble .

Stanley the Darling of Apollo, thou
That mak'st at once both Verse and Musick too;
So sweet a Master of so sweet a Muse,
Whom not to name with honour, were t'abuse.
How thy words flow! How sweetly do they Chyme,
When thy pure Couplets do imbrace in Rhyme!
How quick, how lovely, and how full of Sence
Thy Fancy is, and all that springs from thence!
Which Gamble has enliv'ned by his Art,
And breath' an Active Soul through every part:
And so deduc'd thy Mind to us, that we
May feast our Ears and Souls with rarity.
How much to Thee, how much to Him we owe,
We can conceive, but cannot make you know;
Nor have we thanks proportion'd to your worth,
Thou that didst make, and He that set them forth,
In such a lively Dress too, We admire
What we cann't praise, what we cann't do, Desire;
And therefore turn our praises into prayers,
That Thou'lt make more such Odes, He more such Ayres.

I. On the famous Romance, called The innocent Impostor .

'Twill be expected now that I should raise
Some Monument unto the Author's praise,
The Works, or the Translators; else I fear,
The Reader 'll wonder what I do make here.
'Tis grown Apocryphal, and by the Wits
Quite voted down; Who hold it not befits
A true-born Fancy, to be Smith-field-wise
Put off with Toll and Vouchers; this defies
Such Crutches; for 'tis of so clear a Nature,
'Twill pass without the Chaplains Imprimatur,
Or our Certificates: Besides I carry
Such a dislike to all things Customary,
I'll cheat all expectation, and will be
Thankful to them, but chiefly unto thee.
In these Self-ended times we only do,
Or thank or praise those we're beholding to:
So call our Justice Charity, and say
We do bestow, when we do only pay:
For though the work be rare; yet should it be
Still in its dress, what had it been to me?
And though translated by this worthy pen,
If not exposed to the view of Men,
I had ne'r seen't perhaps, But since all three
Have clubb'd in this production, I must be
Grateful to all, and to give all your right,
Must praise, and love, and thank Bellay, Dod, Wright.
Who ere shall publish what's here done or said,
From our Society must be banished:
Let none by drinking do or suffer harm,
And while we stay, let us be alwaies warm.

LIV. Cromwell's Panegyrick, upon his riding in triumph over the baffled City of L.

Shall Presbyterian bells ring Cromwel's praise,
While we stand still and do no Trophies raise
Unto his lasting name? Then may we be
Hung up like bells for our malignity:
Well may his Nose, that is dominical,
Take pepper in't, to see no Pen at all
Stir to applaud his merits, who hath lent
Such valour, to erect a monument
of lasting praise; whose name shall never dye,
While England has a Church, or Monarchy.
He whom the laurell'd Army home did bring
Riding Triumphant o'r his conquer'd King,
He is the Generals Cypher now; and when
He's joyn'd to him, he makes that one a Ten.
The Kingdomes Saint; England no more shall stir
To cry St. Geooge, but now St. Oliver:
He's the Realms Ensign; and who goes to wring
His Nose, is forc'd to cry, God save the King.
He that can rout an Army with his name,
And take a City, ere he views the same:
His Souldiers may want bread, but ne'r shall fear
(While he's their General,) the want of Beer;
No Wonder they wore Bayes, his Brewing-fat
(Helicon-like) makes Poets Laureat:
When Brains in those Castalian liquors swim,
We sing no Heathenish Pean, but an Hymn;
And that by th'Spirit too, for who can chuse
But sing Hosanna to his King of Jews?
Tremble you Scottish zealots, you that han't
Freed any Conscience from your Covenant:
That for those bald Appellatives of Cause,
Religion, and the Fundamental Laws,
Have pull'd the old Episcopacy down;
And as the Miter, so you'll serve the Crown:
You that have made the Cap to th'Bonnet vail,
And make the Head a servant to the Tail.
And you curst spawn of Publicans, that sit
In every County, as a plague to it;
That with your Yeomen Sequestrating Knaves,
Have made whole Counties beggarly, and slaves.
You Synod that have sate so long to know
Whether we must believe in God, or no;
You that have torn the Church, and sate t'impaire
The Ten Commandements, the Creed, the Prayer;
And made your honours pull down heavens glory,
While you set up that Calf, your Directory:
We shall no wicked Jews-ear'd Elders want,
This Army's made of Churches Militant:
These are new Tribes of Levi; for they be
Clergy, yet of no University.
Pull down your Crests; for every bird shall gather,
From your usurping backs a stolen feather:
Your Great Lay-Levite P. whose Margent tires
The patient Reader, while he blots whole quires,
Nay reams with Treason; and with Nonsence too,
To justifie what e'r you say or do:
Whose circumcised ears are hardly grown
Ripe for another Persecution:
He must to Scotland for another pair;
For he will lose these, if he tarry here.
Burges that Reverend Presby-dean of Pauls,
Must (with his Poundage) leave his Cure of Souls,
And into Scotland trot, that he may pick
Out of the Kirk, and nick-nam'd Philoprick.
And Will the Conquerour in a Scottish dance,
Must lead his running Army into France.
And that still-gaping Tophet Goldsmiths-Hall,
With all its Furies, shall to ruine fall.
We'll be no more gull'd by that Popish story,
But shall reach heav'n without that Purgatory:
What honour does he merit, what renown
By whom all these oppressions are pull'd down:
And such a Government is like to be
In Church and State, as eye did never see:
Magicians think he'll set up Common-Prayer;
Looking in's face, they find the Rubrick there:
His Name shall never dye, by fire nor floud,
But in Church-windows stand, where pictures stood:
And if his soul loathing that house of clay,
Shall to another Kingdome march away,
Under some Barns-floor his bones shall lye,
Who Churches did, and Monuments defie:
Where the rude Thrasher, with much knocking on,
Shall wake him at the Resurrection.
And on his Grave, since there must be no Stone,
Shall stand this Epitaph; That he has none.

LV. A Record in Rhythme, Being an Essay towards the Reformation of the Law, offer'd to the Consideration of the Committee appointed for that purpose. Written by some men of Law, at a time when they had little else to do.

[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

Be it remembred now that formerly,
To wit, last Term o'th' holy Trinity,
Before the Keepers of the liberty
Of England, by the full authority
Of the long Parliament at Westminster,
Priscilla Morecrave widow came, by her
Atturney M. B. and prefers,
I'th Court of Upper Bench, a bill of hers,
Against one Roger Pricklove, who doth lye
A prisoner in the Marshalls Custody
Et cætera, and 'tis upon a plea
Of trespass on the Case, Pledges there be
To prosecute the suite, to wit, John Doe
And Richard Roe. And the said bill also
Doth follow in these very words, to wit
In legal manner, London, Scilicet.

Declaration.

Priscilla Morecrave Widow, doth complain
Of Roger Pricklove, who doth now remain,
Prisoner to th'Marshal of the Marshalsie,
Of the said Keepers of the Liberty
Of England, by authority and power
Of Parliament, i'th' Bench superiour,
Before the same Keepers themselves that be,
For that (to wit) whereas the aforesaid she
Priscilla Morecrave, is a person just,
Honest, and faithful, one that never durst
Give the least cause for to be thought unchast,
But hath liv'd ever modest, and was grac't,
With godly education, and demurely,
Behav'd her self; and all her life most purely,
Hath with the zealous and precise consorted;
And free from all uncleanness was reported,
Who never was amongst the well affected,
Stain'd with a Crime, or in the least suspected;
But with the pious people of this Nation,
Hath had good fame, credit, and reputation;
By which good reputation, she hath gain'd
Not only love, and favour, but obtain'd
A plentiful estate, by which most freely
She manag'd her Affairs; And that Ralph Seely,
One of the Assembly late at Westminster,
A godly-Gospel-preaching-Minister,
Was earnest suiter in the way of Marriage,
To have her for his yoke-fellow; his carriage;
And his most Saint-like loving humble speeches,
Had her consent to all that he beseeches.
And she agreed to give him all content,
To wed him by the Act of Parliament:
Three times the Contract publish't, then their trust is
That all shall be compleated by the Justice:
But this said Roger all aforesaid knowing,
Maliciously intending her undoing,
To blast her reputation, and dishonour
Her unstain'd Chastity; to cast upon Her
Infamous obloquy, to dis-repute Her;
And to deprive her of her foresaid Suiter;
By breaking of the marriage was intended;
To leave her to the world lost, and unfriended;
In month September, day of the same Eleven,
One thousand six hundred fifty and seven,
Of our Lords year, as by our computation,
Our Common-wealth reckons from th'incarnation,
At London in the parish of St. Mary
Bow, in the ward of Cheap, he then contrary
To truth most falsly and maliciously
In hearing of right worthy Company,
And honourable persons, Noble Lords,
Did speak these false, and most reproachful words,
To and off her the Plaintiff; that's to say,
You are a Pockie Whore, and at this day
You have three Bastards living, which do dwell,
Two in Pick-hatch, and one in Clarkenwell:
By reason of which false malicious speaking
Of the said Roger, to her great heart-breaking;
The godly Gospel-Minister, her Suiter,
Forbears his former suit, and for the future,
Did make profession he would never take her
To be his Consort, but did quite forsake her;
And all her friends with whom he had repute,
Do now esteem her for a Prostitute;
Whereby she is the worse, and damnifi'd,
One thousand and five hundred pounds, beside;
And thereupon she doth her suit produce,
In th'Upper Bench, because of this abuse.

Imparlance.

Replication.

And she the said Priscilla doth maintain her
Said Action, against all that's said to stain her;
And saith this Court nor will nor can forejudge her,
For ought that's pleaded by the foresaid Roger;
But though by his said Plea, she's forc'd to tarry,
Her suit against him, yet she ought to carry;
Protesting therefore she's not such a liver,
Nor of such Fame, as the said Plea doth give her
Out for to be, but that she hath not vary'd
One jot in life from what she hath declared:
And on the said Ralphs part protesting farther,
That of the Kirk he was a Godly Father;
And of as pure and chaste a conversation,
As any Presbyter within the Nation:
And free from any lustful act committing,
With her, or any other deed unfitting:
For Replication saith, she was not knowing
Of the said Ralph but three years last foregoing:
During which time, and till the said words spoke were
By the said Roger (that almost have broke her)
She liv'd a Matrons life, chaste, grave, and thrifty,
And came unto the Age of three and fifty;
And the said Ralph all the said time, by reason
Of his much preaching in and out of season;
And of his fasting long, and longer praying,
And from his peoples not their duties paying,
In the same Ward and Parish, grew so weakly,
That of his life he did despair weekly:
Which weakness had so very much out-worn him,
That in his bed he was not able turn him;
Till that a learned Doctor of the Colledge
Who of his sickness had full perfect knowledge,
For gaining of his health did much exhort him,
To wed an honest Matron to Comfort him:
Which the said Ralph well liking, and well knowing
The honour to the said Priscilla owing,
And thinking that delayes might greatly worse him,
With Zeal, did Court her for a wife to nurse him:
And she in pity to his weak Condition,
Did condescend to be his she Physician,
And for their joynt desires better carrying,
A day by both appointed was for marrying:
But on the sudden off the same was broken
By the said Roger's words aforesaid spoken;
By means whereof, he the said Ralph, endure
Could not the said Priscilla for a Cure,
But of relief his expectations failing,
And his long sickness more and more prevailing;
In Month October, day thereof that first is,
In the Lords year that formerly exprest is;
At the said Ward, the said Ralph much in trouble,
Did dye, to's loss, possess'd of living double:
And left the said Priscilla to bemoan her,
For that no other man would after own her;
And that she truly doth reply and don't lye,
She prays may be inquired by the Country.

Rejoynder.

And the aforesaid Roger saith the Plea
By her the said Priscilla formerly
Put in and pleaded by her Replication,
In the aforesaid manner, form, and fashion,
And the whole matter that's contained there,
Are not sufficient in the law, for her
The said Priscilla, to maintain her aforesaid
Suit against him, and there need be no more said:
Nor by the laws of England is it fit,
That he should make answer unto it;
This to averr he's ready. Whereupon
For want of better Replication
In this behalf, he doth a judgment pray,
And that she from having her action may
Be barr'd, for this against him; And for
The causes why he doth in Law demurr
Upon that Replication, he the said
Roger according to the Statute made,
And in such case provided, doth declare
And shew to th'Court of Upper Bench that's here,
These causes following, to wit, that this
Said Replication insufficient is,
Negative, pregnant, and uncertain, rude,
Double, wants form, and does not conclude
Rightly, according to the legal way.

Joyning in Demurrer.

And she the said Priscilla here doth say,
That the said Plea which by reply has been
Pleaded by her, and what's contain'd therein,
In point of Law, good, and sufficient be,
Her suit against him to maintain; And she
That Plea and matter, pleaded as above,
Is ready here both to maintain and prove,
As this Court shall consider, and think fit,
And 'cause he does not answer it, nor yet
Deny the Replication any way,
The said Priscilla (as before) doth pray
Judgement, and dammages to be judg'd to her,
For all this injury which he did do her:
But 'cause this Court here not advised is
Of giving judgment of the premises,
A day's giv'n to both parties to appear
I'th Upper Bench, before the Keepers here
At Westminster, till Munday after eight
Dayes of St. Hillary, for the receipt,
And hearing of their Judgment upon it,
For that the Court is not advis'd as yet.

LVI. To the Kings most Sacred Majesty, on his miraculous and glorious return 29. May, 1660 .