University of Virginia Library

Anagammata Regia: Regi.

Iacobvs Stvart: Iusta Scrutabo.

For A iust Master haue I labour'd long:
To A iust Master haue I vow'd my best:
By A iust Master should I take no wrong:
With A iust Master would my life be blest.
In A iust Master are all Vertues met:
From A iust Master flowes aboundant grace:
But, A iust Master is so hard to get,
That A iust Master seems of Phœnix race:
Yet, A iust Master haue foundin fine.
Of A iust Master if you question This,
Whom A iust Master I so iust define;
My Lie e Iames Stvart A iust Master is.
And A iust Master could my Work deserue,
Such A iust Master Would I iustly serue.

CORONA DEDICATORIA.

[These laureat Temples which the Laurel grace]

These laureat Temples which the Laurel grace;
These Honest Lines these Signes of Wit and Art;
This Map of Vertues, in a Muse full Face;
Are but a blush of Bartas outward part.
The Pencil could no more: But his oxne Pen
Limns him, with-in, the Miracle of Men.

HIS LIFE, &c.

Lectoribus

England's Apelles (rather Ovr Apollo)
WORLD'S wonder SYDNEY, that rare more-thā-man,
This Lovely Venvs first to LIMNE beganne,
With such a PENCILL as no PENNE dares follow:
How thē shold I, in wit & art to shalow,
Attēpt the Task which yet none other can?
Far be the thought, that mine vnlearned hand
His heavenly Labor should so much vnhallow:
Yet, lest (that Holy-RELIQVE being shrin'd
In som High-Place, close lockt from cōmon light)
My Countrey-men should bee debarr'd the sight
Of these DVINE pure Beauties of the Minde;
Not daring meddle with APELLES TABLE,
This haue I muddled, as my MVSE was able.

INDIGNIS.

OPTIMIS.

EPIGRAM. To M. Iosuah Sylvester.

If to admire were to commend, my Praise
Might then both thee, thy work and merit raise:
But, as it is (the Childe of Ignorance,
And vtter stranger to all ayre of France)
How can I speak of thy great paines, but erre?
Since they can only iudge, that can confer.
Behold! the reverend Shade of Bartas stands
Before my thought, and (in thy right) commands
That to the world I publish, for him, This;
Bartas doth wish thy English now were His.
So well in that are his inventions wrought,
As His will now be the Translation thought,
Thine the Originall; and France shall boast,
No more, those mayden glories she hath lost.

In praise of the Translator.

If divine Bartas (from whose blessed Braines
Such Works of grace, or gracefull works did stream)
Were so admir'd for Witt's celestiall Strain's
As made their Vertues Seat, the high'st Extream;
Then, Iosvah, the Sun of thy bright praise
Shall fixed stand in Arts faire Firmament
Till Dissolution date Times Nights, and Dayes,
Sith right thy Lines are made to Bartas Bent,
VVhose Compass circumscribes (in spacious VVords)
The Vniversall in particulars;
And thine the same, in other I earms, affords;
So, both your Tearms agree in friendly VVars:
If Thine be only His, and His be Thine,
They are (like God) eternall, sith Divine.

To M. Iosvah Sylvester, of his Bartas Metaphrased.

I dare confess; of Muses, more than nine,
Nor list, nor can I envy none but thine.
Shee, drencht alone in Sion's sacred Spring,
Her Makers praise hath sweetly chose to sing,
And reacheth neerest th'Angels notes aboue;
Nor lists to sing or Tales, or Warres or Loue.
One while I finde her, in her nimble flight,
Cutting the brazen spheares of heav'n bright:
Thence, straight she gudes before I be aware,
Through the three regions of the liquid ayre:
Thence, rushing down, through Nature's Closet-dore,
Sixe ransacks all her Grandame's secret store;
And diving to the darkness of the Deep,
Sees there what wealth the waues in prison keep:
And what she sees above, belowe, between,
Shee showes and sings to others eares and eyne.
T'is true thy Muse another's steps doth press:
The more's her paine, nor is her praise the less.
Freedom gives scope, vnto the roving thought;
Which, by restraint, is curb'd. Who wonders ought,
That feet, vnfettred, walken farre, or fast?
Which pent with chains, mote want their wonted haste.
Thou follow'st Bartasses diviner streine;
And singst his numbers in his native veine.
Bartas was som French Angell, girt with Bayes:
And thou a Bartas art in English Layes.
Whether is more? Me seems (the sooth to say'n)
One Bartas speakes in Tongues, in Nations, twayn.

To my good friend, M. Sylvester, in honour of this sacred Work.

Thus to adventure forth, and re-convay
The best of treasures from a forrain Coast,
And take that wealth wherein they gloried most,
And make it ours by such a gallant pray,
And that without iniustice, doth bewray
The glory of the Work, that we may boast
Much to haue wonn, and others nothing lost
By taking such a famous prize away.
As thou industrious Sylvester hast wrought,
And heer enricht vs with th'immortall store
Of others sacred lines; which from them brought,
Coms by thy taking greater than before:
So hast thou lighted from a flame devout,
As great a flame, that never shall goe out.

To M. Iosvah Sylvester. A SONNET.

The glorious Salust, morall, true-divine,
Who (all inspired wish a Holy rage)
Makes Heav'n his subiect and the Earth his stage,
The Arts his Actors, and the Triple-Trine:
Who his rich language gilds, and graceth fine:
His Countries honour, wonder of our age;
Whose Worlds blest Birth, and blessed Pupillage,
Gain him a world of fame for every line;
Hath heer obtain'd a true Interpreter,
Whom, fame, nor gaine, but loue to Heav'n and vs,
Mov'd to vn-French his learned labours thus.
Thus loves, thus lives all-loved Sylvester.
Forward, sweet friend: Heav'n, Nature, Arts, and Men,
All to this task prefer thine onely Pen.

Flexanimo Salustij du Bartus interpreti, Ios. Sylvesteri, carmen Encomiasticon.

Oft haue I seen sweet fancie-pleasing faces
Consort themselves with swart mishapen features,
To grace the more their soule-subduing graces,
By the defect of such deformed creatures;
As Painters garnish with their shadowes sable
The brighter colours in a curious Table:
So, English Bartas, though thy beauties, heer
Excell so farre the glory of the rest,
That France and England both must hold thee deer;
Sith both their glories thou hast heer exprest
(Shewing the French tongues plenty to be such.
And yet that ours can vtter full as much)
Let not thy fairest Heav'n-aspiring Muse
Disdaine these humble notes of my affection:
My faulty lines let faithfull love excuse,
Sith my defects shall adde to thy perfection:
For, these rude rimes, thus ragged, base, and poore,
Shall (by their want) exalt thy worth the more.

In Commendation of du Bartas, and his Translator, M. Iosvah Sylvester. A Sonnet.

While nights black wings the dayes bright beauties hide,
And while faire Phœbus dives in western deep;
Men (gazing on the heav'nly stages steep)
Commend the Moon, and many Stars beside:
But, when Aurora's windowes open wide,
That Sol's clear rayes those sable clouds may banish,
Then suddenly those petty lights do vanish,
Vailing the glories of their glistring pride:
So, while du Bartas and our Sylvester
(The glorious lights of England and of France)
Haue hid their beames, each glowe-worm durst prefer
His feeble glimpse of glimmering radiance:
But, now these Suns begin to gild the day,
Those twinkling sparks are soon disperst away.

In Commendation of this worthie Worke.

An Acrostick Sonnet, to his friend M. Iosva Sylvester.

If profit, mixt with pleasure, merit Praise,
Or Works divine be 'fore profane preferr'd:
Shall not this heavenly Work the Workers raise,
Vnto the Clouds on Columnes selfly-rear'd?
And (though his Earth be lowe in Earth interr'd)
Shall not du Bartas (Poets pride and glorie)
In after Ages be with wonder heard,
Lively recording th'Vniversal Story?
Vndoubtedly He shall: and so shalt Thou,
Eare charming Eccho of his sacred Voyce:
Sweet Sylvester, how happy was thy choise,
To Task thee thus, and thus to quite thee now?
End as thou hast begun; and then by right
Rare Muses Non-Svch, shall thy Work be hight.

To the Same.

Had golden Homer, and great Maro kept
In envious silence their admired measures,
A thousand Worthies worthy deeds had slept.
They, rest of praise, and wee of learned pleasures.
But (O!) what rich incomparable treasures
Had the world wanted, had this modern glory,
Divine du Bartas, hid his heauenly ceasures,
Singing the mighty World's immortall story?
O then how deeply is our Ile beholding
To Chapman, and to Phaer! but, yet much more
To thee (dear Sylvester) for thus vnfolding
These holy wonders, hid from vs before.
Those works profound, are yet profane; but thine,
Graue, learned, deep, delightfull, and diuine.

Du BARTAS His FIRST WEEK, OR BIRTH OF THE WORLD:

Where-in In Seven Dayes the glorious Worke of the Creation is divinely handled.

In the 1 Day, The Chaos.

In the 2 Day, The Elements.

In the 3 Day, The Sea and Earth.

In the 4 Day, The Heavens, Svn, Moon, &c.

In the 5 Day, The Fishes and Fovles.

In the 6 Day, The Beasts and Man.

In the 7 Day, The Sabbath.

THE FIRST DAY OF THE FIRST WEEK.

THE SECOND DAY OF THE FIRST WEEK.

THE THIRD DAY OF THE FIRST WEEK.

THE FOVRTH DAY OF THE FIRST WEEK.

THE FIFT DAY OF THE FIRST WEEK.

THE SIXT DAY OF THE FIRST WEEK.

THE SEVENTH DAY OF THE FIRST WEEK.

Du BARTAS HIS SECOND WEEKE, DISPOSED (After the proportion of his First) Into Seaven Dayes: (viz.)

The I. Adam,

The II. Noah,

The III. Abraham,

The IV. David.

The V. Zedechias,

The VI. Messias,

The VII. Th'Eternall Sabbath.

But, of the three last, Death (preuenting Our Noble Poet) hath depriued vs.

1. Sonnet.

From Zeal-Land, sayling with the Winde of Loue,
In the Bark Labovr, steer'd by Theorems,
Laden with Hope, and with Desire t'approue,
Bound for Cape-Comfort in the Ile of Iemmes;
In such a Mist wee fell vpon the Coast,
That suddenly vpon the Rock Neglect
(Vnhappily) our Ship and Goods we lost,
Even in a Place that we did lease suspect.
So, Cast-away (my Liege) and quight vn-don,
We Orphan-remnants of a woefull Wrack,
Heer cast a-shore, to Thee for succour run:
O Pittie vs, for our deer Parent's sake;
Who Honour'd Thee, both in his Life and Death,
And to thy guard his Posthvmes did bequeath.

2. Sonnet.

These glorious Works, and gratefull Monuments
Built by Du BARTAS, on the Pyrenæis
(Your Royall Vertues to immortalize,
And magnifie your rich Munificence)
Haue prov'd so Charge-full to Trans-port from thence,
That our small Art's-stock hardly could suffize
To vnder-go so great an Enterprize;
But, is even beggerd with th'vn-cast Expense.
So that, except our Muses SOVERAIN
With gracious Eye regarde her spent Estate;
And, with a hand of Princely Fauour, daign
To stay her fall (before it be too-late)
She needs must fail: as (lending Light about)
Self-spending Lamps, for lack of Oyl, go-out.

TO THE RIGHT EXCELLENT, and most hopefull young Prince, Henry, PRINCE of WALES.

The TROPHEIS, and MAGNIFICENCE.

Anagr. Henricus Stuartus. Hic strenuus ratus.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, the Lord High Chancelor of England.

THE LAWE.

Anagr. Thomas Egerton. 1. Gestat Honorem. 2. Age mett Honors. 3. Honors mett Age.

Most humbly
Shewes to thy Great Worthiness,
(Graue Moderator of our Britain Lavves)
The Muses Abiect (subiect of Distress)
How long Wrong-vext, in a not-Need-less Cause,
Not at the Kings-Bench, but the Penny-less)
By one, I Want (the son of Simpleness);
Vnable, more to greaze the scraping paws
Of his Attorney Shift, or oyl the iaw
Of his (dear) Counsell, Serieant Pensiueness;
He is compell'd, in forma pauperis,
To Plead, himselfe (and shewe his (lttle) Lavv)
In the free Court of thy milde Courtesies.
Please it thee therefore an Iniunction grant,
To stay the Suit between himselfe and Want.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, the Earle of Salisbury, Lord high Threasurer of England.

THE CAPTAINES.

Anagr. Robertus Cecilius. Cui ortus celebris: Robertus Comes Sari. (vel) Robertus Cecillius. Cerebro sic Tulius. Carus est Orbi sermo.

Arms yeeld to Arts: the Trumpet to the Tongue:
Stout Aiax Prize the wise Vlysses wan:
It will not seem then that we haue mis-sung,
To sing of CAPTAINES to a Counsail-man:
Sith without Counsaile, Courage is but rage;
Rude in Resoluing, rash in Acting it:
In which respect those of the Antique Age
Fain PALLAS Goddess both of War and Wit:
Therefore, to Thee, whose Wit so much hath sted
(In War and Peace) our Princes and our STATE:
To Thee, whose Vertue hath now Triumphed
Of Cause-less Enuy, and misgrounded Hate:
To Thee (Witt's-WORTHIE) had it not been wrong.
Not to haue sounded my War-WORTHIE's Song?

TO THE RIGHT HONOBLE, the Earle of Dorset (late) Lord high Threasurer of England.

THE SCHISME.

Anagr. Sacvilus. Vas lucis. Comes Dorsetius. Esto decor Musis. Sacris Musis celo deuotus.

Not with-out Error, and apparent Wrong
To Thee, the Muses, and my Self (the most)
Could I omit, amid this Noble Hoast
Of learned Friends to Learning, and our Song,
To muster Thee; Thee, that hast lov'd so long
The sacred Sisters, and (sad sweetly-most)
Thy Selfe hast sung (vnder a fayned Ghost)
The tragick Falls of our Ambitious Throng.
Therefore, in honour of Thy younger Art,
And of the Muses, honour'd by the same,
And to express my Thankfull thoughts (in part)
This Tract I sacre vnto Sackvil's Name,
No less renown'd for Numbers of Thine Owne,
Than for thy loue to Other's Labours show'n.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, the Earle of Pembroke.

THE DECAY.

Anagr. William Harbert. With liberall arm.

Far be The Title of this tragick page
From Thee (rare Module of Heroïk mindes)
Whose noble Bountie all the Muses bindes
To honour Thee; but mine doth most engage:
And yet, to Thee, and to Thy Patronage
(For present lack of other gratefull signes)
Needs must I Offer these Decayed lines
(Lyned with Horrors of Isaacian rage)
Where-in, to keep decorum with my Theam,
And with my Fortunes (ruin'd euery-way)
My Care-clogd Muse (still carried down the stream)
In singing Other's, sighes her Own Decay
In stile, in state, in hap, in hope, in all:
For, Vines, vnpropped, on the ground do craul.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE the Earle of Essex, Earle Marshall of England, &c.

EDEN.

Great Strong-bowe's heir, no self-conceipt doth cause
Mine humble wings aspire to you, vnknowne:
But, knowing this, that your renown alone
(As th'Adamant, and as the Amber drawes:
That, hardest steel; this, easie-yeelding strawes)
Atterrs the stubborn, and attracts the prone:
I haue presum'd (O Honors Paragon!)
To graue your Name (which all Iberia awes)
Heer, on the fore-front of this little Pile;
T'inuite the vertuous to a sacred feast,
And chase-away the vitious and the vile;
Or stop their lothsom enuious tongues, at least.
If I haue err'd, let my submission scuse:
And daign to grace my yet vngraced Muse.

TO THE SAME RIGHT Honourable Earle of ESSEX, &c.

THE ARK.

From th'Ark of Hope, still tossed in distresse
On th'angry Deluge of disastrous plight,
My silly Doue heer takes her second flight,
To view (great Lord) thy World of worthiness:
Vouchsafe (rare Plant of perfect Nobleness)
Som branch of safety, whereon she may light;
Som Oliue leaf, that may presage me right
A safe escape from this wet wilderness.
So when the Flood of my deep cares shall fall,
And, I be landed on sweet Comfort's Hill;
First, my pure thoughts to Heav'n present I shall:
Then on thy fauours meditating still,
My Zealous Muse shall daily striue to frame
Som fairer Tropheis to thy glorious Name.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE Charles Lord Mount-ioy, Earle of Deuonshire.

THE IMPOSTVRE.

Though in thy Brook (great Charles) there swim a Swan,
Whose happy, sweet, immortall tunes can raise
The vertuous Greatness of thy Noble praise
To higher notes, than my faint Numbers can;
Yet, while thy Lucan doth in silence scan
Vnto himselfe new meditated laies,
To finish vp his sad Pharsalian fraies;
Lend ear to Bartas (now our Country-man).
For, though his English be not yet so good
(As French-men hardly do our tongue attain)
He hopeth yet to be well vnderstood;
The rather, if you (worthy Lord) shall daign
His bashfulness a little to aduance,
With the milde fauours of your countenance.

TO THE SAME RIGHT Honourable Earle of Deuonshire, &c.

THE HANDY-CRAFTS.

The Mome-free Passage, that my Muse hath found
Vnder Safe-Conduct of thy Patronage,
Through carping Censures of this curious Age
(Where high conceited happy wits abound)
Makes her presume (O Mount-ioy, most Renownd!)
To bear again, in her re-Pilgrimage,
The noble Pasport of thy Tutelage,
To salue her still from sullen Enuies wound.
Let thy (true Eagle) Sun-beholding Eyes
Glance on our Glowe-worme's scarce discerned spark:
And while Witt's towring Falcons touch the skies,
Obserue a while our tender-imped Lark.
Such sparks may flame, and such light Larks may flie
A higher pitch, than dross-full Vanity.

TO THE SAME RIGHT Honourable the Earle of Deuonshire, &c.

THE COLONIES.

Renowned Scipio, though thine Ennius
Still merit best the best of thy regard:
Though (worthily) his Trumpet be pre-ferr'd
To sound the Triumphs thou hast won for vs;
Yet sith one Pen, how-euer plentious
(Were it the Mantuan or Meonian Bard)
Suffizeth not to Giue Fame's full Reward
To thy great Deeds, admir'd and glorious:
Though Hee, thy Homer be; Thou, his Achilles;
Both by Each other Happy: Thou (heer-in)
T'haue such a Trump as his immortall Quill-is;
Hee such a Theam as thy High Vertues bin:
It shall (Great Worthy) no Dis-Honour be,
That (English) Bartas hath Sung (thrice) to Thee.

TO THE HONORABLE, learned, and religious Gentleman, Sir Peter Yovng of Seton, Knight, Almoner of Scotland, and one of his Maiesties Priuy Councell there.

THE COLVMNS.

Yovng, Ancient Seruant of our Soueraign Lord,
Graue Master of thy Master's minor-yeares;
Whose Prudence and whose Piety appeares
In his Perfection, which doth thine record:
Whose loyall Truth, His royall Trusts approue
By oft Embassage to the greatest Peers:
Whose Duty and Deuotion he endeers
With present fauours of his Princely Loue:
In Honour of these Honours many-fold,
And for memoriall of Thy kinde regard
Of these poor Orphanes (pyn'd in Hope-less cold)
Accept these Thanks for thy firm Loues reward;
Where-in (so Heav'ns prosper what we haue sung)
Through euery Age thou shalt liue euer Yovng.

TO THE RIGHT VERTVOVS (fauourer of Vertue, furtherer of Learning) Sir Thomas Smith (of London) Knight, (late) Lord Embassadour for his Maiesty, to the Emperour of Rvssia.

IONAS.

To thee, long tost in a fell Storm of State;
Cast out, and swallowed in a Gulfe of Death,
On false-suspect of thine vnspotted Faith,
And flying from thy (Heav'n-giuen) Charge of late:
For much resemblance of thy troublous Fate
(Much like in Case to that he suffereth,
Though (in effect) thy Cause far differeth)
I send my Ionas; to congratulate
Thy (happy) Rescue, and thy holy Triall:
Where-by (as Fire doth purifie the Gold)
Thy Loyaltie is more notorious Loyall,
And worthy th'Honours which thou now doo'st hold.
Thus, Vertue's Palms, oppressed, mount the more:
And Spices, bruz'd, smell sweeter than before.

TO THE MOST HONORABLE, learned, and religious Gent. Mr. Anthony Bacone.

THE FVRIES.

Bound by thy Bounty, and mine own Desire,
To tender still new Tribute of my Zeal
To Thee, whose fauour did the first repeal
My proto-Bartas from Self-doomed Fire:
Hauing new tuned to du Bartas Lyre,
These tragick murmurs of his Fvries fell,
Which (with the Horrors of an Earthly Hell)
The Sin-curst life of wretched Mortals tire:
To whom, but Thee, should I present the same?
Sith, by the Breath of Thine incouragement,
My sacred-fury thou didst first inflame
To prosecute This sacred Argument.
Such as it is, accept it, as a signe
Of Thankfull Loue, from Him, whose all is Thine.

TO THE SAME MOST Honourable Gentleman, Master Anthony Bacone.

BABYLON.

Thy friendly censure of my first Essaie
(Du Bartas Fvries, and his Babylon)
My faint Endeuours hath so cheared on,
That both His Weeks are also Ours, to-day.
Thy gracious hand, repriuing from decay
My fame-less Name doom'd to obliuion,
Hath so stirr'd-vp my Soule's deuotion,
That in my Songs thy Name shall liue for ay.
Thy milde acceptance of my simple myte
(Pattern and Patron of all vertuous drifts)
Doth heer againe my gratefull Muse inuite
To re-salute thee with mine humble gifts;
Indeed, no Gifts, but Debts to Thy desart:
To whom I owe my hand, my head, my heart.

ADAM.

THE FIRST DAY OF THE SECOND WEEK;

Containing

• I. Eden,
• II. The Impostvre,
• III. The Fvries,
• IV. The Handy-Crafts.

1. Eden.

THE FIRST PART OF THE FIRST DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

2. The Impostvre.

THE II. PART OF THE FIRST DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

3. The Fvries.

THE THIRD PART OF THE FIRST DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

4. The Handy-Crafts.

THE IIII. PART OF THE FIRST DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

NOAH.

THE SECOND DAY OF THE SECOND WEEK.

CONTAINING

• I. The Ark,
• II. Babylon,
• III. The Colonies,
• IV. The Colvmnes.

1. The Ark.

THE FIRST PART OF THE SECOND DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

2. Babylon.

THE SECOND PART OF THE SECOND DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

3. The Colonies.

THE THIRD PART OF THE SECOND DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

4. The Colvmnes.

THE IIII. PART OF THE SECOND DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

ABRAHAM.

THE THIRD DAY OF THE SECOND WEEK.

CONTAINING

• I. The Vocation,
• II. The Fathers,
• III. The Lawe,
• IV. The Captains

1. The Vocation.

THE FIRST PART OF THE THIRD DAY OF THE II WEEK.

2. The Fathers.

A PART OF THE II PART OF THE III. DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

3. The Lavve.

THE THIRD PART OF THE THIRD DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

The Argvment.

Envy, in Pharao, seeks to stop the Cause
Of Iews increase: Moses escapes his claws;
Out of a Burning (vnburnt) Bush, a Voice
For Iacob's Rescue doth of Him make choice;
Sends him (with Aaron) to th'Egyptian King:
His Hardning, Plagving, finall Ruining
In the Red Sea. Israel ingrate for all:
Christ-Typing Manna, Quails, Rock-waters fall:
The glorious Lavve: the golden Calf: strange Fire:
Core in-gulft: Moses prepar'd t'expire.

4. The Captaines.

THE IIII. PART OF OF THE THIRD DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

DAVID.

THE FOVRTH DAY OF THE SECOND WEEK.

CONTAINING

I. The Tropheis,

II. The Magnificence,

III. The Schism,

IV. The Decay.

TO PRINCE HENRY HIS HIGHNES.

A Sonnet.

Hauing new-mustred th'Hoast of all this All,
Your Royall Father in our Fore-ward stands:
Where (Adam-like) Himself alone Commands
A World of Creatures, ready at his Call.
Our Middle-ward doth not vnfitly fall
To famous Chiefs, whose graue braue heads & hands
In Counsai'ld Courage so Conduct our Bands,
As (at a brunt) affront the force of Baal.
Our Reare-Ward (Sir) shalbe your Princely Charge,
Though last, not least (sith it most Honour brings)
Where Honour's Field before you lies more large:
For Your Command is of a Camp of Kings,
Som good; som bad: Your Glory shall be, heer
To Chuse and Vse the good, the bad Cashier.

A Stanza.

[Iewel of Natvre, Ioy of Albion]

Iewel of Natvre, Ioy of Albion,
To whose perfection Heav'n and Earth conspire:
That in Times fulnes, Thou mayst bless this Throne
(Succeeding in the Vertues of thy Sire)
As happy thou hast begun, goe-on;
That, as thy Youth, we may thine Age admire;
Acting our Hopes (which shall revive our hearts)
Pattern and Patron both of Arms and Arts.

[DAVID.]

[THE FOVRTH DAY OF THE SECOND WEEK.]

The Tropheis.

THE I. BOOK OF THE FOVRTH DAY OF the Second Week, of Bartas.

The Magnificence.

THE II. BOOK OF THE FOVRTH DAY OF the Second Week, of Bartas.

The Argvment.

Death-summon'd David, in his sacred throne
Instals (instructs) his yong Son Salomon:
His (pleas-God) Choice of Wisedom, wins him Honor:
And Health and Wealth (at once) to wait vpon her:
His wondrous Doom, quick Babe's Claim to decide:
Mis-Matches taxt, in His with Pharaonide:
Their pompous Nuptials: Seav'n Heav'n-Masquers there.
The glorious Temple, Builded richly-rare.
Salem's Renown drawes Saba to his Court:
King Iames, to His, brings Barta's, in like fort.

The Schisme.

THE THIRD BOOK OF THE FOVRTH DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

The Decay.

THE IIII. BOOK OF THE FOVRTH DAY OF THE II. WEEK.

Yet such as these (or som of these, at least)
We all haue been: in som-what all haue mist
(And, had we broken but one Precept sole,
The Law reputes vs guilty of the whole):
But, we are washed, in the Sacred-Flood;
But, we are purged, with the Sprinkled-Blood;
But, by the Spirit, we now are sanctify'd;
And, through the Faith in Iesvs, iustify'd.
Therefore no more let vs our selues defile,
No more return vnto our Vomit vile,
No more profane vs with Concupiscence,
Nor spot the garment of our Innocence:
But, constant in our Hope, feruent in Love
(As even al-ready conuersant Aboue)
Proceed we cheerely in our Pilgrimage
Towards our happy promis'd Hæritage,
Towards That Citty of heart-bound-less Bliss
Which Christ hath purchast with his Blood, for His:
To whom, with Father, and the Spirit, therefore
Be Glory, Praise, and Thanks for-evermore.

Pibrac. Quad. 5.

Say not, My hand This Work to END hath brought:
Nor, This my Vertue hath attayned to:
Say rather thus; This, GOD by me hath wrought:
GOD's Author of the little Good I doo.

TO MY EVER-MOST HONOVRED MISTRESS, Mris Essex, wife to the right worthy, William Essex of Lamborn, Esquier; and eldest Daughter of the right valiant, and Nobly-descended, Sir Walter Harecourt of Stanton-Hare-court, Knight Baron of Ellen-Hall.

Wit's, Beautie's, Vertue's perfect Quintessence
(Yet graç't in soule with more Diuine perfection)
Grace, with a glance of your mild Eye's reflexion,
This humble Pledge of Zeal and Reuerence:
Which (as the Stork, for gratefull recompence,
Where she hath bred, one of her Birds bestoweth)
My thankfull Muse (who you like Duty oweth)
Heer consecrates to your deer excellence.
Deer Essex heer (to make your Faith apparant
Vnto the Faithfull and confirm the same)
Embrace (I pray) the Faith of Abraham
Offering his Isaac (on th'Almighties warrant):
So shall th'Imputer of his Righteousness
Impute you yours; and your young Isaacs bless.

TO VERTVES PATTERNE, AND BEAVTIES Paragon, Mris Ione Essex: now wife to the right worthy, William Anderson Esquier (second Son of the late Lord Anderson) and only Sister of the Honorably-descended William Essex of Lamborn, Esquire.

Vrania (noblest of the learned Nine)
Coming from Heav'n to call my Muse from Earth,
From Loves loose Sonnets, and lasciuious Mirth;
In sacred Weeks to sing the Works diuine:
Of all the Nymphs extract from mortall Ligne,
For sweet Companion picks you only forth
(As best resembling her self's grace and worth)
Deer Beauties best, Wits wonder Vertue's shrine.
Sweet, heav'nly temper of a humane soule
(Whose louely smiles set coldest hearts a-sire;
But, instantly, with modest brows controule
Th'aspiring hope of any bold desire)
Dain't entertain in your milde gracefull manner
This Heavenly Mayd, the mirrour of your Honour.

VRANIA. OR The Heauenly Muse.

THE TRIVMPH OF FAITH

THE TRIVMPH of FAITH, former-ly DEDICATED, and now againe, for ever Consecrate to the gratefull Memorie of the first kinde Fosterer of our tender Muses, my neuer-sufficiently-Honored deer Vncle W. PLVMB, Esq.

To Guy de Faur, Lord of Pibrac; W. Salustius du Bartas.

THE TRIVMPH OF FAITH.

TETRASTICHA. OR THE QVADRAINS OF GVY DE FAVR, Lord of Pibrac.

Translated, By Iosvah Sylvester.

TO THE RIGHT EXCELLENT AND MOST Hopefull young Prince, Henry.

After so many golden Rules of State,
Religious Lessons, Morall Precepts grave,
As in your Fathers

ΒΑΣΙΛΙΚΟΝ ΔΩΡΟΝ..

Royal-Gift you have;
These seem superfluous, or to com too-late:
Yet, 't is no Error to re-iterate
The Voice of Wisdome to the tender Ear
Of Princes (chiefly) such as You, that bear
The Hope and Hap of Europe in your Fate.
And, though You want not these weak helps of ours
To consummate Your Self in Excellence:
Yet may those Subiects, which shall once bee Yours,
Draw vertuous Wisdom, and all Duty hence,
If You but daign with your dear Name to grace-it,
Which (Load-stone-like) shall draw them to imbrace-it.

THE QVADRAINS OF PIBRAC.

SONNETS Vpon THE LATE MIRACVLOVS PEACE IN FRANCE.

TO THE MOST HONORABLE, LEARNED, and religious Gentleman, Master Anthony Bacone.

Bound by your Bounty and mine owne desire,
To tender still new tribute of my zeale
To you (your Countries watchfull Sentinel,
Whose wisedome, ours and other States admire)
Lo, here I tune vpon mine humble Lyre
Our neighbour Kingdomes vn-expected weale,
Through suddain ceasing of Warrs enter-deale;
As Celtike Muses to my Muse inspire,
Miraculous the Work; and so his wit
That firstly sung this sacred Miracle:
A gratious Theame (if I dis-grace not it)
That your graue eyes may daigne for spectacle.
What e'r it be, accept it as a due
From him whose all doth all belong to You.

TO THE FRENCH KING, Henry the fourth.

Sonnet 1.

[Henry, triumphant though thou wert in war]

Henry , triumphant though thou wert in war,
Though Fate and Fortitude conspir'd thy glory,
Though thy least Conflicts well deserue a Story;
Though Mars his fame by thine be dark'ned far;
Though from thy Cradle (Infant Conquerer)
Thy martiall proofs haue dimm'd Alcides praise;
And though with Garlands of victorious Bayes
Thy Royall temples richly crowned are:
Yet (matchless Prince) nought hast thou wrought so glorious
As this vn-lookt-for, happy Peace admired;
Whereby thy self art of thy self victorious:
For, while thou might'st the worlds Throne haue aspired,
Thou by this Peace thy war-like hart hast tamed:
What greater conquest could there then be named?

Sonnet 2.

[But what new Sunne doth now adorne our Land]

But what new Sunne doth now adorne our Land,
And giues our skie so smooth and smiling cheer?
For, 'tis not Phœbus; els his golden brand
Shines brighter now then 't hath don many a yeer.
Sweet Angel-beauty (sacred Peace) Heav'ns present;
Is't not the Rising of thy new-com starr,
Which makes the Air more clear, the spring more pleasant,
Zephyre more calm, and Flora merrier?
Ah, I perceiue the Oliue, Doue, and Bowe,
Divine presages that the Flood abates
(The dismal flood where blood and tears did flowe)
And Ianus now locks-vp his Temple gates:
Iustice and Faith doo kindly kisse each other:
And Mars, appeas'd, sits down by Cupids Mother.

Sonnet 3.

[Fair fruitfull Daughter of th'Omnipotent]

Fair fruitfull Daughter of th'Omnipotent,
Great Vmpire that doost either World sustain,
Without whose help all would return again
(Like hidious Chaos) to confusion bent.
O Mother of the liuing, second Nature
Of th'Elements (Fire, Water, Earth, and Air)
O Grace (whereby men climbe the heavenly stair)
Whence void, this world harbours no happy creature.
Pillar of Lawes, Religious pedestall,
Hope of the godly, glory of th'Immortall;
Honour of Cities, Pearl of Kingdoms all;
Thou Nurse of Vertues, Muses chief supportall;
Patron of Arts, of Good the speciall spring:
All hail (deer Peace) which vs all heale doost bring.

Sonnet 4.

[Com forth (deer France) from thy dark Cell of mone]

Com forth (deer France) from thy dark Cell of mone,
Com (as new-born) from Warrs vnkindly quarrels:
Turn tragick Cypresse to triumphant Laurels;
Change black to green, and make thy Graue a Throne.
Let Ceres dwell vpon thy Desart Plain,
Bacchus, and Dian, on thy Hills and Groues,
Pomona in Gardens, Pan among thy Droues,
Secure all Roades, and ope all Gates again.
Resume (O Cities) Rule and Reuerence;
Revest (yee States) your Robes of dignitie;
Rise-vp (yee Ruines) in fair Battlements;
Com Muses, Pallas, Themis, Mercury,
Restore vs Lawes, Learning, and Arts, and Trade:
And let our Age, a golden Age be made.

Sonnet 5.

[Most Christian Kingdom, thou wert ne're so near]

Most Christian Kingdom, thou wert ne're so near
Drown'd in the deep Gulphes of thy Ciuill warre,
As in the tempest of this later Iar,
Which past conceit of calming did appear.
When all the windes aduersly armed were,
(Though selfly-foes, yet friends to work thy wrack)
Thy Ship a helm, thy self a heart didst lack,
On troubled waters tossed here and there:
Then from aboue (O bounty most admired!)
Saint Hermes shin'd: whose gentle light presageth
That then the anger of the Heav'ns asswageth.
O happy Peace! lesse hoped then desired:
O grace much honour'd! little yet conceiv'd;
O blessed guile, that thus our sense deceiv'd!

Sonnet 6.

[Who could expect (but past all expectation)]

Who could expect (but past all expectation)
So suddain order, from so sad confusion?
So loyall friendship, from false emulation;
So firm possession, from so fierce intrusion?
Who could expect (but past all likelyhood)
From such a storm, such and so sweet a calme;
From France her cinders, such a Phœnix-brood;
Pandoras box to yeeld so rare a balme?
Who could expect (but past all humane thought)
So frank a freedom from a thrall so late,
Or certain Rudder of so rent a State?
True Æsculapius, thou alone hast wrought
This Miracle, not on Hyppolitus,
But on this Kingdom, much more wonderous.

Sonnet 7.

[Th'vnlookt-for working of all things almost]

Th'vnlookt-for working of all things almost,
Inconstant-constant, in succession strange,
Amazeth those whose wits we chiefly boast,
To see this suddain vn-expected change.
Each feels th'effect, but none the cause descries
(No though he haue with starrs intelligence):
God to himself reserues such Mysteries,
Disposing Kingdoms by his Prouidence,
O end-less Bounty! In the midst of Broyles
He giues vs Peace, when Warr did vs inflame;
And reaues the mischiefe we pursu'd yer-whiles:
But, this doth most extoll his glorious Name,
That when most sharply this extreamest Fit
Stroue to be cure-less, soon he cured it.

Sonnet 8.

[Som reasoned thus; No violence can last]

Som reasoned thus; No violence can last:
Revolted Subiects, of themselues will quail:
Iust Soueraignty can never be displac't;
And lawfull Princes first or last preuail:
But who could think, that the conioyned powers
Of Spain and Rome, with an exceeding number
Of rebell Cities, and false States of ours,
So weak a King so little should encumber?
Others discoursed in another sort,
While all things sorted to another end
Then their imaginations did purport:
That earth may knowe, it cannot comprehend
The secret depths of Iudgements all-divine,
No: there's no ground, beginning, midst, nor fine.

Sonnet 9.

[Admire we onely Gods Omni-potence]

Admire we onely Gods Omni-potence,
His deep-deep Wisedom, and his Mercy deer.
For, with these three, he hath surmounted heer
Our hatefull foes, our hopes, and all our sense:
His power appears vpon our Lord and King,
As yerst on Dauid: for, they both attain
By war-like broyls their preappointed Raigne;
Strangers, and subiects, and selues conquering:
His prudence shines, when to preserue vs thus,
All humane wit his wisedom doth convince:
His gracious bounty in our bountious Prince.
O various wonders! mel delicious
Flowes from a living Lion, Mars is quiet,
Valour relenting, Conquest void of ryot.

Sonnet 10.

[This was no action of a humane hand]

This was no action of a humane hand,
But th'only work of the great Thunderer,
Who (wise-directing all the things that are)
In vs divinely works his owne command.
Som men, vnwilling, benefit their Land,
Or vn-awares their Countries good preferr;
Another motions Peace, but mindeth Warr,
And Peace succeeds what-ever drifts withstand.
Th'Arch-Architect, the matchless Artizan
All instruments vnto good vses prooues:
Man's but a wheel, which that great Moover moues;
Each gracious gift in that first cause began:
Each good's a gleam of that first light alone,
If Ill approach vs, onely that's our owne.

Sonnet 11.

[If God dart lightning, soon he deaws down rain]

If God dart lightning, soon he deaws down rain;
A dreadfull Iudge, and yet a gentle Father:
Whose wrath slowe-kindled is soon quencht again,
To moue vs sinners to repent the rather.
'Gainst Hel-bred Hydra, Heav'n-born Theseus brings
The great Alcides arm and armory:
Of greatest Ill, a greater Good there springs;
And Mercy still doth Rigour qualifie.
Ah France, so many Monsters to suppresse,
Thou hadst great need of Royall fortitude,
Els had'st thou been an Africk Wildernes.
O happy lost Realm! for, it hath ensude,
That now thy gain is more, in restauration,
Then was thy losse in all thy desolation.

Sonnet 12.

[But, if I sing great Henries fortitude]

But, if I sing great Henries fortitude;
Shall I not then be blam'd for ouer-daring?
If ouer-slip it, then be taxt for fearing,
Of silent dread, and dumb ingratitude?
What e're befall, my youth-bold thoughts conclude
(Like Icarus) my nimble Muse to raise:
And if I fall in such a Sea of praise,
What rarer Mausole may my bones include?
A sacred rage of som sweet-furious flame,
Will-nill-I, rapts me boldly to rehearse
Great Henries Tropheis, and his glorious name.
Then roule thou Torrent of my tender verse:
Though his high Theam deserue a consort rather
Of all the Muses, and all musikes Father.

Sonnet 13.

[Great Prince, not pleas'd with a vain vertue-seeming]

Great Prince, not pleas'd with a vain vertue-seeming:
Great Victor, prone to pardon humblenes,
Happy, all Hap Heav'ns onely gift esteeming;
Warriour, whose warrs haue wrought his Countries Peace:
Noble by deeds, and noble by descent;
Ancient Achilles, youthfull Nestor sage,
Whose ripe-experienç't courage confident,
To knocks knits counsail, and giues rule to rage.
As hard in toyle, as in compassion soft:
Inur'd to that, by nature born to this;
Who sheds no blood, but sheddeth tears as oft,
Who neuer fights but still the Field is his.
So like to Mars, that both in loues and wars,
Bellona and Venus take him still for Mars.

Sonnet 14.

[A spirit, to vertues cheerfully addrest]

A spirit, to vertues cheerfully addrest;
Apt to all goodnes, to no ill inclin'd;
Quick to conceiue, ingenious to digest;
Whose tongue is still true trumpet of the minde:
A body, resting when it hath no rest;
A waxen mildnes in a steely minde;
A soule tra-lucent in an open brest,
Which others thoughts through boany wals can finde;
Whose front reflects maiestical-humility,
Whose graue-sweet look commandingly-intreats,
Which in one instant fear and loue begets:
A King still warring to obtain tranquillity,
To saue his Country scorning thousand dangers;
Mirror of Fraunce, and miracle of Strangers.

Sonnet 15.

[If that, before thee fall rebellious Towers]

If that, before thee fall rebellious Towers,
If battered Walls, before thy Souldiers, loofe;
If hugest Rocks be pearced by thy powers;
If 'gainst thine Armes, no armour be of proof:
If that our fields flowe with Iberian blood,
If that thy Camp compos'd of many a Cæsar
Can by no dismall dangers be withstood;
Iousting with Gyants, as it were at pleasure:
If lofty Mountains to thine homage vail;
If valleys rise to bulwarke thee about;
If for thy sake, riuers doo flowe and fail;
'Twas neither Canons, nor our conflicts stout,
Nor strength, nor stomack got these victories:
No, 'twas thy presence (Henry) and thine eyes.

Sonnet 16.

[They be too blame then, that thy boldness blame]

They be too blame then, that thy boldness blame,
For hauing put thy self so oft in danger:
Sith against Rebels and against the Stranger,
Thy looks, like lightning, did thy Troops inflame.
Fraunce fought before, all bloody, faint, and lame,
Crauing thine aid to venge her hatefull wrong;
When, like a Lion to preserue her yong
Thou layd'st about thee to redeeme the same.
Then hadst thou cause to hazard so thy life
(In extream perils, extream remedies.)
But spare thee now, thy State is free from strife:
Soueraign, our safety in thy safety lies.
Codrus could keep his, onely by his death:
Thou thine, alone by thine owne liuing breath.

Sonnet 17.

[What wreath were worthy to becom thy Crown]

What wreath were worthy to becom thy Crown,
What Carr-Triumphant equall with thy worth,
What marble statue meet for thy renown,
Thou that hast rais'd the Lilly of the earth?
What honorable Title of Addition
Dost thou deserue, who (ioyning might with mildnes)
Hast sav'd this great Ship from a sad perdition,
Nigh lost in th'Ocean of warrs ciuill wildnes?
O modern Hercules (thy Countries Father)
Hope not of vs thy iust deserued meed:
Earth is too-base, in Heav'n expect it rather.
Our Laurels are too-pale to crown thy deed,
Who thus hast salv'd the vniuersall Ball:
For, th'hnalth of Fraunce imports the health of all.

Sonnet 18.

[Pardon me (Henry) if Heav'ns siluer raine]

Pardon me (Henry) if Heav'ns siluer raine,
Dewing thy pearles, impearle mine humble Laies:
And if my verse (void both of price and paine)
Presume thy Vertues passing-price to praise:
Pardon (great King) if that mine Infant Muse
Stutter thy name; and if with skill too scant
Ilimne thee here, let zeale my crime excuse;
My steel's attracted by thine Adamant.
For, as the Sunne, although he do reflect
His golden Rayes on grosser Elements,
Doth neuer spot his beautifull aspect:
So, though the praises of thine Excellence
Doo brightly glister in my gloomy stile,
They nothing lose of their first grace the while.

Sonnet 19.

[Now, sith as well by conquest as succession]

Now, sith as well by conquest as succession
France is thine owne; O keep it still therefore.
'Tis much to conquer: but, to keep possession
Is full as much, and if it be not more.
Who well would keep so plentifull a portion,
Must stablish first the heauenly Discipline;
Then humane Lawes, restraining all extortion;
And Princely wealth with publike weale combine.
A Princes safety lies in louing People:
His Fort is Iustice (free from Stratagem)
Without the which strong Cittadels are feeble.
The Subiects loue is wonne by louing them:
Of louing them, n'oppression is the triall:
And no oppression makes them euer loyall.

Sonnet 20.

[Bold Martialists, braue Imps of noble birth]

Bold Martialists, braue Imps of noble birth,
Shining in steele for France, and for your King:
Ye Sons of those that heretofore did bring
Beneath their yoake the pride of all the earth.
It is an honour to be high-descended;
But more, t'haue kept ones Country and fidelitie.
For, our owne vertues make vs most commended:
And Truth's the title of all true Nobility.
Your shoulders shoar'd vp France (euen like to fall)
You were her Atlas; Henry, Hercules:
And but for you, her shock had shaken All;
But now she stands stedfast on Ciuill Peace:
Wherefore, if yet your war-like heat doo work,
With holy Armes goe hunt the hatefull Turk.

Sonnet 21.

[But you that vaunt your antike Pedigrees]

But you that vaunt your antike Pedigrees,
So stately timbring your surcharged shields,
Perking (like Pines aboue the lower Trees)
Ouer the Farmers of your neighbour fields;
Is't lack of loue, or is it lack of courage,
That holds you (Snaile-like) creeping in your houses,
While ouer all your Countries Foes doo forrage,
And rebell out-rage euery corner rouses?
If no example of your Ancesters,
Nor present instance of bright-armed Lords,
The feeble Temper of your stomack stirres,
If in your liues yee neuer drew your swords
To serue your King, nor quench your Countries flames,
Pardon me, Nobles, I mistooke your names.

Sonnet 22.

[You sacred Order, charg'd the church to watch]

You sacred Order, charg'd the church to watch,
And teach the holy Mysteries of Heav'n,
From hence-forth all seditious plots dispatch,
And (Father-like) to all be alwaies euen.
Though superstition stirre to strife againe;
Reuolt's a mischiefe euermore pernicious:
Pluck vp abuses, and the hurtfull graine
Sprung from the Ignorant and Auaricious.
Auoid Ambition (common cause of strife)
Your reuerend Robe be free from staines of blood,
Preach holy Doctrine, prooue it by your life:
Fly Idlenes, choose exercises good;
To wit, all works of liuely faith and pietie.
So, to your Fold shall flock the blest Societie.

Sonnet 23.

[You graue assembly of sage Senators]

You graue assembly of sage Senators,
Right Oracles, yee Ephori of France;
Who, for the States and Iustice maintenance,
Of Sword and Balance are the Arbitrers:
That from hence-forth (against all enemies)
Our Peace may seat her in a settled Throne;
Represse the malice of all mutinies,
Which through th'aduantage of these times haue growne.
At a lowe tyde 'tis best to mend a breach,
Before the flood returne with violence:
'Tis good in health to counsaile with a Leach:
So, while a People's calme from insolence,
'Tis best that Rulers bridle them with awe;
And (for the future) curbe the lewd with law.

Sonnet 24.

[People, lesse settled then the sliding sand]

People, lesse settled then the sliding sand;
More mutable then Proteus, or the Moone;
Turn'd, and return'd, in turning of a hand:
Like Euripus ebbe-flowing euery Noone.
Thou thousand-headed head-less Monster-most,
Oft slaine (like Antheus) and as oft new rising,
Who, hard as steele, as light as winde art tost;
Chameleon like, each obiects colour prysing:
Vnblinde thy blinde soule, ope thine inward sight;
Be no more Tinder of intestine flame:
Of all fantastike humors purge thy spright:
For, if past-follie's vrge yet griefe and shame,
Lo (like Obliuions law) to cure thy passion,
State-stabling Peace brings froward minds in fashion.

Sonnet 25.

[Engins of Vulcan, Heav'n-affrighting wonders]

Engins of Vulcan, Heav'n-affrighting wonders,
Like brittle glasse the Rocks to cindars breaking;
Deafning the windes, dumbing the loudest thunders;
May ye be bound a thousand yeeres from speaking.
Yee hate-peace Hacksters flesht in Massacres,
Be you for euer banisht from our soile;
Yee steeled Tooles of slaughter, wounds, and warres,
Be you condemn'd to hang, and rust a while:
Or (not to languish in so fruit-less rest)
Be you transform'd to husband furniture,
To plow those fields you haue so oft deprest:
Or (if you cannot leaue your wonted vre)
Leaue (at the least) all mutinous alarmes,
And be from hence-forth Iustice lawfull Armes.

Sonnet 26.

[O Paris, knowe thy selfe, and knowe thy Master]

O Paris, knowe thy selfe, and knowe thy Master,
As well thy heav'nly as thine earthly guider:
And be not like a Horse, who (proud of pasture)
Breakes Bit, and Reanes, and casts his cunning Rider.
Who nill be Subiects, shall be slaues in fine:
Who Kings refuse, shall haue a Tyrant Lord:
Who are not moov'd with the milde rods diuine,
Shall feele the fury of Heav'ns venging Sword.
Thy greatnes stands on theirs that weare the Crowne,
Whereof, th'hast had now seuentie (sauing seuen).
Thinke one sufficient soone to pull thee downe:
Kings greatnes stands on the great King of Heav'n.
Knowing these two, then Paris knowe thy selfe,
By Warres afflictions, and by Peaces wealth.

Sonnet 27.

[Swell not in pride, O Paris (Princely Dame)]

Swell not in pride, O Paris (Princely Dame)
To be chiefe Citie, and thy Soueraines Throne:
Citie? nay modell of this totall Frame,
A mighty Kingdom of thy selfe alone.
The scourge that lately with paternall hand
For thine amendment did so mildely beat-thee,
If any more against thy Kings thou stand,
Shall proue that then God did but only threat-thee.
Wert thou a hundred thousand-fold more mighty,
Who in th'Olympike Court commands the thunders,
In his least wrath can wrack thee (most Almighty).
Thebes, Babel, Rome, those proud heav'n-daring wonders,
Lowe vnder ground in dust and ashes lie:
For earthly Kingdoms (euen as men) doe die.

Sonnet 28.

[But, O my sorrowes! whither am I tost?]

But, O my sorrowes! whither am I tost?
What? shall I bloody sweet Astræas Songs?
Re-open wounds that are now heal'd almost,
And new-remember nigh forgotten wrongs?
Sith stormes are calmed by a gentle Starre,
Forget we (Muse) all former furie-moods,
And all the tempests of our viper-Warre:
Drown we those thoughts in deep-deep Lethe floods.
O but (alas) I cannot not-retaine
So great, notorious, common miseries,
Nor hide my plaint, nor hold my weeping raine:
But 'mid these hidious hellish out-rages,
I'le showe and prooue by this strange spectacle,
Our ciuill Peace, a sacred Miracle.

Sonnet 29.

[As he that, scap't from Ship-wrack on a plank]

As he that, scap't from Ship-wrack on a plank,
Doubts of his health, and hardly yet beleeues
(Still faintly shiuering on the feareless bank)
That (through that fraile helpe) certainely he liues:
As he that new freed from strange seruitude,
Returnes again to tread his natiue allies,
Seems still to feare his Patrons rigour rude,
And seems still tugging, chained in the Gallies:
So alwayes, ruth, ruine, and rage, and horror
Of troubles past doo haunt me euery-where,
And still I meete Furies and gastly Terror:
Then, to my selfe thus raue I (rapt with feare)
From pleasures past, if present sorrow spring,
Why should not past cares present comfort bring?

Sonnet 30.

[We must not now vpbraid each others crimes]

We must not now vpbraid each others crimes
Committed wrongly in the time of warre;
For we haue all (alas) too often-times
Prouok't the vengeance of the Lord too farre:
Some robbing Iustice, vnder maske of Reason;
Some blowing coles, to kindle-vp Sedition;
Some 'gainst their King attempting open Treason;
Some Godding Fortune (Idol of Ambition).
Alas, we knowe our cause of maladie,
All apt t'accuse, but none to cleanse th'impure;
Each doth rebuke, but none doth remedy:
To knowe a griefe, it is but halfe a cure.
Is it our sinnes? let's purge away that bane;
Eor what helps Physicke, if it be not tane?

Sonnet 31.

[Who cloake their crimes in hoods of holines]

Who cloake their crimes in hoods of holines,
Are double villaines: and the Hypocrite
Is most-most odious in Gods glorious sight,
That takes his Name to couer wickednes.
Profane Ambition, blinde and irreligious,
In quest of Kingdoms, holding nothing holy
Think'st thou th'Eternall blinde (as thou in folly)
Or weake to punish Monsters so prodigious?
O execrable vizard, canst thou hide thee
From th'All-pierce Eye? Are treason, rape, and murder
Effects of Faith, or of the Furies-order?
Thy vaile is rent, the rudest haue discride thee.

Sonnet 32.

['Tis now apparant to each plaine Opinion]

'Tis now apparant to each plaine Opinion,
Thy hot Deuotion hunted but Dominion.
'Tis strange to see the heat of Ciuill brands.
For, when we arme vs brother against brother,
O then how ready are our hearts and hands,
And Wits awake to ruine one another!
But, come to counter-mine 'gainst secret treason,
Or force the forces of a stranger foe,
Alas, how shallow are we then in reason,
How cold in courage, and in camping slowe!
Fraunce only striues to triumph ouer Fraunce:
With selfe-kill Swords to cut each others throat.
What swarmes of Soldiers euery where doo float,
To spend and spoile a Kingdoms maintenance?
But, said I Soldiers? ah, I blush for shame,
To giue base Theeues the noble Soldiers name.

Sonnet 33.

[Is't not an endless scandall to our dayes]

Is't not an endless scandall to our dayes
(If possible our heirs can credit it)
That th'holy name of Peace, so worthy praise,
Hath been our Watch-word for a fault vnfit?
That the pure Lilly, our owne natiue flower,
Hath been an odious obiect in our eyes?
That kingly Name, and Kings heav'n-stablisht power,
Hath been with vs a marke of trecheries?
T'haue banisht hence the godly and the wise,
Whose sound direction kept the State from danger;
Yea, made their bodies bloody Sacrifice?
And (to conclude) seeking to serue a Stranger,
T'haue stabd our owne? but (O Muse) keep that in:
The fault's so foul, to speak it were a sinne.

Sonnet 34.

[I waile not I so much warres wastefull rigours]

I waile not I so much warres wastefull rigours,
Nor all thy ruines make me halfe so sorie,
As thy lost honor (France) which most disfigures,
Losing thy loyalty, thy Natiue glory.
From Moores to Muscouites (O cursed change!)
The French are called, Faith-less Parricides:
Th'yerst-most-prince-loyall people (O most strange!)
Are now Prince-treachers more than all besides:
With vs, Massacres passe for Pietie;
Theft, rape, and wrong, for iust-attaind possessions:
Reuolt for Merit, Rage for Equity:
Alas, must we needs borrow the transgressions
And imperfections of all other Nations,
Yerst onely blamed for inconstant fashions?

Sonnet 35.

[Not without reason hath it oft been spoken]

Not without reason hath it oft been spoken,
That through faire Concord little things augment,
And (opposite) that mightiest things are broken
Through th'vgly Discord of the discontent.
When many tunes doe gently symphonize
It conquers hearts, and kindly them compounds;
When many hearts doe gently sympathize
In sacred friendship, there all blisse abounds.
Alas, if longer we diuide this Realme,
Loosing to euery Partizan apart;
Farewell our Lillies and our Diadem.
For, though it seeme to breath now somwhat peart,
Our sinnes (I feare) will worke worse after-claps:
And ther's most danger in a re-re-relapse.

Sonnet 36.

[O, how I hate these partia-lizing words]

O, how I hate these partia-lizing words,
Which show how we are in the Faith deuised:
Is't possible to whet so many Swords,
And light such flames 'mong th'In-one-Christ-baptized:
Christians to Christians to be brute and bloudy,
Altars to Altars to be opposite,
Parting the limmes of such a perfect Body,
While Turks with Turks do better farre vnite?
We, in our Truth finde doubts (whence follow Schismes)
They, whose fond Law doth all of Lies consist,
Abide confirm'd in their vaine Paganismes.
One nought beleeues, another what him list:
One ouer-Creeds, another Creeds too-short;
Each makes his Church (rather his Sect) a-part.

Sonnet 37.

[Put-off (deere French) all secret grudge and gall]

Put-off (deere French) all secret grudge and gall,
And all keen stings of vengeance on all parts:.
For if you would haue Peace proclaim'd to all,
It must be first faire printed in your hearts.
Henry the mildest of all Conquerers
(Your perfect Glasse for Princely clemencie)
He, to appease and calme the State from iarres,
For his friends sake, hath sav'd his enemie.
Let's all be French, all subiects to one Lord;
Let France from hence-forth be one onely State;
Let's all (for Gods sake) be of one accord.
So (through true zeale Christs praise to propagate)
May the most Christian King with prosperous power
On Sion walls re-plant our Lilly-flower.

Sonnet 38.

[O christian cor'siue! that the Mahomite]

O christian cor'siue! that the Mahomite
With hundred thousands in Vienna Plaine,
His mooned Standards hath already pight,
Prest to ioyne Austrich to his Thracian Raigne:
Malth, Corfu, Candie, his proud Threats disdaine;
And all our Europe trembles in dismay;
While striuing Christians (by each other slaine)
Each other weak'ning make him easie waie.
Khodes, Belgrade, Cyprus, and the Realmes of Greece,
Thrall'd to his barbarous yoake, yet fresh-declare,
That while two striue, a third obtaines the fleece.
Though name of Christian be a title faire;
If, but for Earth, they all this while haue striv'n,
They may haue Earth, but others shall haue Heav'n.

Sonnet 39.

[May I not one day see in France againe]

May I not one day see in France againe
Some new Martellus (full of stout actiuity)
To snatch the Scepter from the Saracen,
That holds the Holy Land in strait captiuitie?
May I not see the selfe-weale-wounding Launce
Of our braue Bloods (yerst one another goring)
Turn'd with more valour on the Musulmans,
A higher pitch of happy prowesse soaring?
But who (deare Fraunce) of all thy men-at-armes
Shall so farre hence renue their ancient Laurels:
Sith here they plot thine and their proper harmes?
I rather feare, that (through their fatall quarrels)
That hate-Christ Tyrant will in time become
The Lord and Soueraigne of all Christendome.

Sonnet 40.

[Mid all these mischiefes, while the friend-foe Strangers]

Mid all these mischiefes, while the friend-foe Strangers,
With vs, against vs, had intelligence;
Henry our King, our Father, voides our dangers,
And (O Heav'ns wonder) planteth Peace in Fraunce.
Thou Iudge that sitt'st on the supernall Throne,
O quench thy fury, keep vs from hostilitie:
With eyes of mercy looke thou still vpon
Our Peace, and found it on a firme stabilitie:
Sith (in despight of discord) thou alone,
Inward and outward, hast thus salv'd vs (Lord)
Keep still our Fraunce (or rather Lord thine owne)
Let Princes loue, and liue in iust accord:
Dis-arme them (Lord) or, if Armes busie them,
Be it alone for thy Ierusalem.

A DIALOGVE VPON THE TROVBLES PAST:

Betweene Heraclitvs and Democritvs, the weeping and the laughing Philosophers.

Heraclitus.
Alas! thou laugh'st, perhaps not feeling well
The painfull torments of this mortall Hell:
Ah! canst thou (tear-less) in this iron Age,
See men massacred, Monsters borne to rage?

Democritus.
Ha! but why weep'st thou? wherefore in this sort
Doost thou lament amid this merry sport?
Ha! canst thou chuse but laugh, to see the State
Of mens now-follies, and the freaks of Fate?

Heraclitus.
He hath no heart that melts not all in teares,
To see the treasons, murders, massacres,
Sacks, sacrileges, losses and alarmes
Of those that perish by their proper armes.

Democritus.
Who all dismaied, swouneth sodainly
To heare or see some fained Tragedy
(Held in these dayes, on euery Stage as common)
Is but a heartless man, or but a woman.

Heraclitus.
O! would to God our Countries tragick ruth
Were but a fable, no effected truth:
My soule then should not sigh to angry Heav'n,
Nor for her plagues my tender heart be riv'n.

Democritus.
I take the world to be but as a Stage,
Where net-maskt men do play their personage:
'Tis but a mummerie, and a pleasant showe;
Sith ouer all, strange vanities doo flowe.

Heraclitus.
Those vanities I haue in detestation,
As cursed causes of Gods indignation:
Which makes me alwaies weep, sith on the earth
I see no obiect for the meanest mirth.

Democritus.
Thus, from one Subiect sundry sequels spring,
As diuersly our wits conceiue a thing.
I laugh to see thee weepe; thou weep'st to see
Me laugh so much, which more afflicteth thee.

Heraclitus.
Laugh while thou list at mortall miseries,
I cannot chuse but euen weep out mine eyes:
Finding more cause for tears in bloody slaughter
Then for thy sense-less ill-beseeming laughter.

Democritus,
Melt thee, distill thee, turne to waxe or snowe;
Make sad thy gesture, tune thy voice to woe;
I cannot weep, except sometimes it hap
Through laughing much, mine eyes let fall a drop.

Heraclitus.
I weep to see thus euerie thing confused,
Order disordred, and the Lawes abused;
Iustice reuerst and Policie peruerted;
And this sicke State neere vtterly subuerted.

Democritus.
I laugh to see how Fortune (like a ball)
Playes with the Globe of this inconstant All;
How she degradeth these, and graceth those;
How whom she lifts-vp, downe again she throwes.

Heraclitus.
I raine downe Riuers, when against their King
Cities rebell, through subiects bandying:
When Colledges through Armes) are reft of Art:
When euery County Kingdomes-it a-part.

Democritus.
I burst with laughter, when (confounding State)
I see those rebels hunt their Magistrate;
When I heare Porters prate of State-designes,
And make all common, as in new-found Indes.

Heraclitus.
I weep to see Gods glory made a vaile
To couer who his glorie most assaile:
That sacred Faith is made a maske for sinne,
And men runne headlong to destructions ginne.

Democritus.
I laugh (with all my heart) at the transforming
Of Iuggling Proteis, to all times Conforming:
But, most I laugh, t'haue seene the world so mad
To starue and die, when those damn'd Atheists bad.

Heraclitus.
I weepe (alas) to see the people weepe,
Opprest with rest-less waight in danger deepe;
Crying for Peace, but yet not like to get-her,
Yet her condition is not greatly better.

Democritus.
I laugh to see all cause of laughter gone,
Through those which (yerst thou said'st) haue caus'd thy mone:
Noting th'old guise, I laugh at all their new:
I laugh at more, but dare not tell it you.

Heraclitus.
Som sorrowes also I in silence keepe;
But in the Desart, all my woes shall weepe:
And there (perhaps) the Rocks will helpe me then;
For, in these dayes they are more milde then men.

Democritus.
I'le dwell in Cities (as my Genius guides)
To laugh my fill; for, smiling Peace prouides
Such plentious store of laughing-stuffe to fill me,
That still I'le laugh, vn-less that laughing kill me.

AN ODE OF THE LOVE AND BEAVTIES OF ASTRÆA.

TO THE MOST MATCHLESS. faire and vertuous, M.M.H.

Tetrastichon.

Thou , for whose sake my freedome I forsake;
Who, murdring me dost yet maintain my life:
Heere, vnder Peace, thy beauties Type I make,
Faire, war-like Nymph, that keep'st me still in strife.

AN ODE TO ASTRÆA.

Sonnet 1.

Sweet mouth, that send'st a musky-rosed breath;
Fountain of Nectar, and delightfull Balm;
Eyes clowdy-clear, smile-frowning, stormy-calm;
Whose every glance darts me a living-death:
Browes, bending quaintly your round Ebene Arks:
Smile, that then Venus sooner Mars besots;
Locks more then golden, curl'd in curious knots,
Where, in close ambush wanton Cupid lurks:
Grace Angel-like; fair fore-head, smooth, and high;
Pure white, that dimm'st the Lillies of the Vale;
Vermilion Rose, that mak'st Aurora pale:
Rare spirit, to rule this beautious Emperie:
If in your force, Divine effects I view,
Ah, who can blame me, if I worship you?

Sonnet 2.

Thou, whose sweet eloquence doth make me mute;
Whose sight doth blinde me; and whose nimbleness
Of feet in dance, and fingers on the Lute,
In deep amazes makes me motion-less:
Whose onely presence from my selfe absents me;
Whose pleasant humours, make me passionate;
Whose sober moods my follies represent me;
Whose graue-milde graces make me emulate:
My heart, through whom, my heart is none of mine;
My All, through whom, I nothing do possess
Saue thine Idea, glorious and divine:
O thou my Peace-like War, and war-like Peace,
So much the wounds that thou hast giuen me, please,
Thst't is my best ease never to have ease.

EPIGRAMS & EPITAPHES vpon Warre and Peace.

Vpon the League.

France , without cause thou doost complain
Against the League for wronging thee.
Sh' hath made thee large amends again,
With more then common vsurie:
For, for thy one King which she slew,
Sh' hath given thee now a thousand new.

Vpon the taking of Paris.

Vpon the fall of the Millars-bridge.

Vpon the recouerie of Amiens.

Vpon the Reduction of Nantes.

Nantes would not yeeld so soon (they sayd)
Nor be recovered so good cheap:
And yet, for all defence it made,
'T was made to make the Britton Leap.

Vpon Peace.

Vpon Captaine Cobbler.

A merry Cobbler left the wars,
To turn vnto his Occupation:
And, asked by his Customers
The reason of his alteration:
'T hath pleas'd (quoth he) the King t'ordain
That each his office take again.

Vpon Warre.

Heere, vnder this huge heap of stones
Lately enterr'd lies cruell Warre:
Pray God long rest her soule and bones
Yet, there is nothing worse for her.

Vpon Rowland Rob-Church.

Heer lyeth Rowland, that was lately slain,
In robbing of a wealthy Chappell, spyde:
Yet I beleeue he doth in heav'n remain,
Sith onely for the Churches Good he dyde.

Vpon Captaine Catch.

Heer vnder, Captain Catch is layd,
Who six times chang'd from side to side;
Of neither side (it seem'd) afraid:
He wore a white Scarfe when he dyde:
Yet som suspect (and so do I)
For his inconstance showen before,
That to the Black-band he did fly:
But now he can reuolt no more.

Vpon Sir Nequam Neuter.

Heer lyeth he, who the more safe to prey
On both sides; Neuter, between both abode:
Whither his Soule is gone, I cannot say,
Sith he was, nor for Diuell, nor for God.

THE PROFIT OF IMPRISONMENT.

A PARADOX, WRITTEN IN FRENCH BY Odet de la Noue, Lord of Teligni, being Prisoner in the Castle of Tourney.

Translated by Iosvah Sylvester.

TO HIS LONG APPROVED friend, M. R. Nicolson I. S. wisheth euer all true content.

To thee (the same to me as first I meant)
Friend to the Muses, and the well-inclinde,
Louing, and lov'd of euery vertuous minde:
To thee the same, I the same Song present
(Our mutuall loue's eternall Monument)
Wherein, our Nephewes shall heer-after finde
Our constant Friendship how it was combinde
With links of kindness and acknowledgement.
Accept againe this Present in good part,
This simple pledge of my sincere affection
To Tangley, Thee, and thy Soon-calm-in-heart
(Perfect good-will supplies all imperfection).
Chameleons change their colour: Guile her game:
But (in both Fortunes) Vertue's still the same.

A SONNET OF THE Author to his Booke.

The Bodie ouer-prone to Pleasures and delights
Of soft, frail, dainty flesh, and to self-ease addicted,
Abhors Imprisonment, as a base paine inflicted
To punish the defaults of most vnhappy wights.
The Soule, as much surpriz'd with loue of heauenly sights,
And longing to behold the place that appertaines-her,
Doth loath the Bodie, as a Prison that detaines-her
From her high happiness among the blessed sprights.
Then, sith both Bodie and Soule their bondage neuer brook,
But Soule and Bodie both doo loue their liberty:
Tell, tell me (O my Muse) who will beleeue our Book?
He that hath learn'd a-right both these to mortifie,
And serue our Sauiour Christ in bodie and in spirit,
Who both from thrall hath freed by his owne only merit.

A PARADOX, THAT ADVERSITY IS MORE necessary then Prosperity; and that, of all afflictions, Close-Prison is most pleasant, and most profitable.

OF THE VVORKE, AVTHOR, AND TRANSLATER.

LITTLE BARTAS:

OR Briefe Meditations, ON The Power, Providence, Greatnes, and Goodnes of God , In the Creation; of the World, for Man: of Man, For Himself.

Translated; & Dedicated To the most Royall Lady Elizabeth, by Iosvah Sylvester.

TO THE MOST ROYALL LADY ELIZABETHA, Infanta of England; Princess Palatine of Rhine.

Sweet Grace of Graces, Glory of Your Age,
Lustre of Vertves (Morall and Divine)
Whose Sacred Raies (already) far out-shine
Your Princely State, Your Royall Parentage;
Heer, to your Highnes (with all Good-Presage,
Congratuling Your little Palatine)
I consecrate This Little-One of Mine
To serve Your Self, first; then, Your Son, for Page.
Your gracious Favours to my former Brood,
So binde my Thoughts, so bolden my Desires,
To shew Mee gratefull, as I knowe You good;
That Thus to Yov, This Little Mine aspires:
Little in Growth; yet of so great a Spirit,
As (happely) Your Graces grace may merit.

LITTLE BARTAS.

Micro-cosmo-graphia: THE LITTLE-WORLDES DESCRIPTION; OR THE MAP OF MAN

(From Latin Saphiks of that Famous, late, Preacher in London, Mr. Henry Smith.)

Translated; & Dedicated To the Right Honourable, Honoria, Lady Hay. By Iosvah Sylvester.

TO THE Right-RIGHT HONORABLE Honoria, Wife of Iames, Lord Hay, Sole Daughter and Heire of Edvvard Lord Denny.

Equally bound, in humble Gratitude,
To Two deer Equals (to You equall Deer);
Vnable (yet) with Both at once to cleer,
Vwilling yet, with Either to be rude:
Faine would I craue to haue my Bond renewd,
For a more Happy, or more Hopefull Year,
When gratious Heav'n shall daign to set me freer
From old cold Cares, which keep my Muse vnmew'd.
Would You be pleas'd (Madame) to interpose
Your gentle breath, I would not doubt to speed:
Such vertue hath Your Vertue still with Those.
Therefore in Hope of Your kinde Help (at need)
This simple Pledge I Offer at Your Feet;
Altar of Loue, Where both Their Vowes do meet.

THE MAP OF MAN.

CERTAIN EPIGRAMS of the same Mr. H. S.

Translated; & Dedicated To my deer-affected, due-respected, Dr. Hall; & Dr. Hill.

[I owe You Each a larger Summe]

I owe You Each a larger Summe:
Why bring I then to Both a Crumme?
To shew you Both, my Shifts, to liue;
Euen faine to Borrow what I giue:
But Better so, then (blushless) steale
Others Conceipts; or Debts conceale.
Till more my Might, diuide this Myte.
A Larke (they say) is worth a Kyte:
Some Greater, greater things present,
Of lesser Worth, or worser meant.
God measures not our Work, but Will:
Doe You the like: and loue me still.

EPIGRAMMS.

1. Of a King.

Extirp ,

[_]

1.

extoll;

[_]

2.

knowe,

[_]

3.

keep;

[_]

4.

loue,

[_]

5.

learne (from High)

[_]

6.

Bad,

[_]

1.

Good;

[_]

2.

Thy Self,

[_]

3.

The Lawes-path;

[_]

4.

Peace,

[_]

5.

to Dye.

[_]

6.

2. Of a Lawyer.

Liue iust (Iustinian) still: shield,

[_]

1.

shun,

[_]

2.

suppress;

[_]

3.

Good-mens Good Cause,

[_]

1.

Bribes,

[_]

2.

Brawling-Peevishness.

[_]

3.

3. Of a Physician.

Hee that can Cure the Sick, and Keep the Sound,
Shall be My Leach (Whether He Kill, or Wound).

4. Of a Divine.

Know GOD; know'n, teach Him; as thou teachest, tread:
So shall thy Folk be as well taught, as fed.

5. Of a Iudge.

Both blinde and lame I iudge Thee best to make;
Least that thine Eyes miss-giue, thy Hands miss-take.

6. Of a Husbandman.

Good-morrow bids the Cock, th'Owle bids Good-night,
To Countrie-Cares: I bid, God speed them right.

7. Of a Captaine.

In War and Peace, Christ is the sole Commander,
To lead to God-ward: follow still His Standard.

Of all the Seauen.

So Rule,

[_]

1.

Plead,

[_]

2.

Practise,

[_]

3.

Preach,

[_]

4.

Doom,

[_]

5.

Delay

[_]

6.

Direct;

[_]

7.

Climes,

[_]

1.

Causes,

[_]

2.

Cures,

[_]

3.

Christ,

[_]

4.

Crimes,

[_]

5.

Turnes,

[_]

6.

Troups select.

[_]

7.

THE MAIDENS BLVSH:

OR JOSEPH, Mirror of Modesty, Map of Pietie, Maze of Destiny, Or rather Divine Providence. From the Latin of Fracastorius,

Translated; & Dedicated To the High-Hopefull Charles, Prince of Wales. By Iosvah Sylvester.

TO THE HIGH HOPEFVLL Happy Prince, Charles Prince of Wales, Dvke of Cornewall, and Earle of Chester.

Among the Preace that to Your Presence flowes,
With Ioy-full Honours, as this time requires;
In stead of costly Suites, of curious showes,
Of precious Gifts, of solemne Panegyres:
Accept a Heart which to Your Highnesse owes
Whole Hecatombes of Happy-most Desires;
Praying, All prosperous to your blowing Rose,
In All, to equall or excell Your Sire's:
That in All Vertues of a Prince complete,
All Princely Glories may attend you still:
All that may make a King as Good as Great:
All Iosephs Blessings (from th'Eternall Hill)
Whose Happy Legend comes to gratulate
Your High Creation, and Your Birth-dayes Date.

PRINCE ARTHVRS CASTLE, Chiefest Arts Chast Lvre

Like sad Arion on his Dolphins Backe,
Amid the Occean of my Carefull Feares,
Nigh stript of all, Now stept in hoary haires;
Sit I (poore Relique, of Your Brothers wracke.)
My Harp-strings quauer, while my Heart-strings cracke:
My Hand growes weary, and my Health it weares;
To stirre Compassion in some Powerfull eares,
At last, to land me, and supply my lacke.
You, You alone (Great Prince) with Pities grace
Haue held my Chinne aboue the Waters brinke:
Hold still, alas! hold stronger, or I sinke.
Or haile me vp into some safer place,
Som Priuie-Groom, some Room within your Doores:
That, as my Heart, my Harpe may all be Yours.

THE MAIDENS BLVSH:

OR IOSEPH.

THE PARLIAMENT OF VERTVES ROYALL:

(Summoned in France; but assembled in England) For Nomination, Creation, and Confirmation of The most Excellent Prince PANARETVS.

A Præsage of Pr. Dolphin: A Pourtrait of Pr.—Henry: A Promise of Pr. Charles: Translated; & Dedicated To His Highness, By Iosvah Sylvester

To the Honourable, Sir Robert Carie: Sir Iames Fullarton: Sir Robert Carr: Sir Dauid Foulis: Master Thomas Murray.

TO THE HIGH-HOPEFVLL Charles, Prince of Great-Britanne

Where witty Bertault (in his Fancy) meant
But a faint Præsage of His Prince of France;
Our Hopes of Ours the better to aduance,
We haue presum'd to cal a PARLAMENT;
Where Royal Vertues from Olympus sent,
By seuerall ACTS of sacred Ordinance,
Conform, confirm Your future Gouernance;
So please it Heav'n Your hart and hand consent.
O! please it Heav'n, You may be pleased Thus,
These Works to imitate, These Acts to act;
To proue your self, This same PANARETVS,
When future Age shall see our Hopes in Fact.
Which, while I pray; sweet Prince, in humblest sort
I cite Your HIGHNES to This Soverain Court.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE Lords Spirituall and Temporall:

The Knights and Burgesses of the Lower-House: And to all generous and ingenuous Readers.

PANARETVS.

A DIVINE & TRVE TRAGI-COMEDY; IOB TRIVMPHANT in his Triall:

OR THE HISTOIRE OF His Heroicall Patience, In A measured METAPHRASE.

[To Arthur's Castle (call'd by Art's Chast Lvre)]

To The Right Reverend & honorable Father, George Abbot, Lord Arch-Bishop of Canterbury

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, the Lord Elesmore. L. High Chancelour of England.

Thomas Egertonvs: (Anagramma) Nestor Theomagvs.

Graue , God-Wise Nestor; Neuer did a Name
(Saue A Ivst Master) better speak a man
(As Court and Councell, with Mee witnes can)
Than doth Your Owne in This Your Anagram.
Should I A Volume of Your Vertues frame,
Broad as my Brest, and Thicker then my Span;
Could I say More more True more Duly, than
The Character concluded in This same?
For, Piovs-Prudence cannot but be Iust:
And Iustice cannot but be Temperate:
And Temperance from Courage issue must.
So that Your Name doth Your whole Life relate,
So Nestor-like, for grace-full, Godly-Sage,
That Nothing wants, but (what we wish) His Age.

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE, William Harbert, Earle of Penbroke, Lord Chamberlaine, &c.

Patience preuailes (when Passions are vndon)
This doth This Volume truly intimate:
So doth Your Vertue, firm, and fortunate,
Now cheer'd with Radiance of our Royall Sun.
O! long and Happy may Hee shine vpon
So Noble a Plant (mo Such to propagate)
So Grace-full, Vse-full both in Court and State;
Help-full to All, Hurt-full at-all to None.
Among Those Many whom your Worth hath won
(Of either Sexe, of euery Age, and State)
With glad Applauses to congratulate
The worthie Honour of Your Charge begun
(Though not, perhaps, so long and lowd, as Many)
Accept My AVE, as Deuout as Any.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, Sir Edvvard Coke, Knight; Lord Chief Iustice of England and one of his Maiesties most Honorable Priuie Councell.

Edvardvs Cocvs: (Anagrama) Svccedo, Ardvvs.

Hardy and Happy may You long Succeed,
In all the Courses of your Christian Zeale,
To scourge Abuse; and purge the Publike-Weale,
Of vicious Humors, with auspicious Speed.
Hardy and Happy Neuer more did need,
To meet with Malice, and with Might to deale;
And sift the Drift the Serpent would conceale.
How happy Heav'n You for these times decreed!
Hardy and Happy may you still proceed,
Vntill You finde, confound and suffocate,
The Viperous Vermin that destroy the State.
Hardy and Happy, be your Minde and Meed
With GOD and Men: applauded and approou'd
Of Prince and People; of All Good, belou'd:

TO THE RIGHT HONOVRABLE Lords Spirituall and Temporall;

The Knights and Burgesses of the Lower-House; And to all generous and ingenuous Readers.

IOB TRIVMPHANT in his Triall.

The Proëm.

IOB. The second Booke.

IOB. The third Booke.

Cap. 25.

To This, the Shuhite answered shortly Thus:
He is Almighty, Dradly-Glorious;
Whose Power imperiall, and All-humbling Aw,
Rules his High Places in most peacefull Law.
Is any number of His Armies known?
What Light so bright, but His hath over-shone?
How, then, may Man, with God, be iust defin'd?
Or, He be Clean, that's born of Woman-kind?
Behold, the Moon, before Him, is not bright:
Stars are not pure in his (All-pearcing) sight.
Then, How-much-less? How-much-less Man (alas!)
The Son of Man: a Worm, a Worthless Mass?

IOB. THE FOVRTH BOOK.

Yet, after This, Iob liv'd a goodly age,
Twice Seauenty yeers, and saw his Sons Sons Sons,
Successiuely, Four Generations:
And then He dy'd, Ancient and Full of Dayes.

BETHVLIANS RESCVE.

THE Wonder of Widowes: Honor of VViues: Mirror of Mayds.

TO THE RIGHT-RIGHT Honorable Ladies, Lucie, Marchioness of Winchester. Lucie, Countess of Bedford. Anne, Countess of Dorset. Frances, Countess of Exceter. Frances, Countess of Hartford. Katherin, Countess of Salisbury. Susan, Countess of Montgō. Barbara, Vi-Countess Lisle. Elizabeth, Vi-Countess Haddington. Elizabeth, Vi-Countess Fenton. Sara, Baroness Zouch. Margaret, Baroness Wotton. Honoria, Baroness Hay. Eliza. Baroness Knowles. Eliza. Baroness Cavendish. Iane. Baroness Roxborough.

Mirrors of Honor, Models of Perfection,
Lowe, to You all, bowes the Bethvlian Dame;
Beseeching All but chiefly, You, by Name,
To daign her grace and place in your Affection.
You Noblest Lights, whose Vertues bright reflection
Rare-richly sparkles euery way some flame
(Diuerse in Form; in Vertue still the Same)
On Obiects worthy of your Worth's Election:
Your kinde Address Shee craues, your sweet Direction
Towards the Presence of Your Souerain Dame:
Whose High Endowments by the Trump of Fame,
Invite All Vertuous vnder Her Protection;
Which Ivdith humbly prayes You, pray for Her:
And milde interpret Her Interpreter.

BETHVLIANS RESCVE.

The First Booke.

The Second Booke.

The Third Booke.

The Fovrth Booke.

The Fift Booke.

The Sixt Booke.

Heere Ivdith ends: Heer also end will I,
With thanks to GOD; and to Your Maiestie.
To GOD, for bringing This my Work about:
To You, for daigning to haue read it out.

A HYMN OF ALMS: OR THE BEGGERS BELL; heard, from beyond THE CHARTER-HOVSE,

To ring All-in, To The Temple of CHARITIE;

In an Eccho Iterated, & Consecrated To The right-right Reuerend and Double-Honorable Father, George Abbot, L. Arch-Bishop of Canterbury. &c.

TO MY LORD OF CANTERBURY His Grace.

My Wit, weak Orphan, weaned too-too-yong
From Pallas Brest, and too-too-Truant-bred
(Not, as too-wanton, but too-wanting) led
From Arts, to Marts (and Miseries among)
Had else perhaps (besides du Bartas) sung
Some natiue Strains the grauest might haue read;
And to your Grace now grately tendered
Some fitter Sound then This rude Bell hath rung:
Yet; sith it tends to drown th'Heav'n-reaching Cry
Of Blood heer shed by Luxe and Auarice;
And to awake the World to Charitie
(Whereof Your Life so liuely Pattern is)
Propitious, pardon mine officious Zeale,
In This lowd Eccho of a lowder Peale.

AD EVNDEM PRÆSVLEM PÆOPTIMVM EPIGRAMMA Ex lat. I. O. 1611.

Soone , Oxford's Head; Soone, VVinton's Deane Thou wert:
Soone, Litchfield had thee Her Diocesan:
Soone, London had thee Hers, by Thy Desert:
Soone, England ioyes Thee Metropolitan:
Soone, by the King, call'd to His Counsailes High:
What shall I wish thee late? but, late to die.

AD Reuerendissimum Dominum Episcopum Londinensem. EPIGRAMMA

Thee , learned King, the learnedst King elected
Great London's Pastor; which Thee glad-expected:
Others are wont, that hunt for such Reward
Of Wit and Art, sue in the See's Vacation:
Thee King, the King, th'Arch-Bishop call'd preferd;
The Citie, too; Thou haddst thy See's Vocation.

A HYMN OF ALMS.

MEMORIALS OF MORTALITIE.

Written in Tablets, or Quatrains, By Piere Mathiev. The Second Centurie. Translated; and Dedicated To the Right Honourable, Henry Wriothesley, Earle of South-hampton, &c.

[Shall it be said (I shame, it should be thought)]

Shall it be said (I shame, it should be thought)
When After-Ages shall record Thy Worth;
My sacred Muse hath left Sovth-hampton forth
Of Her Record; to Whom so Much shee ought?
Sith from Thy Town (where My Saravia taught)
Her slender Pinions had their tender Birth;
And all, the little all she hath of worth,
Vnder Heav'ns Blessing, only Thence shee brought.
For lack, therefore, of fitter Argument;
And lother Now, it longer to delay;
Heer while the Part of Philips Page I play)
I consecrate This little Monument
Of gratefull Homage, to Thy noble Bounty;
And Thankefull loue to (My deer Nurse) Thy County.

MEMORIALS OF MORTALITIE.

MEMORIALS OF MORTALITIE.

Written in Tablets, or Quatrains, By Piere Mathiev. The Second Centurie. Translated; and Dedicated To the Right Honourable, Robert Devrevx, Earle of Essex and Ew &c.

[Your double Title to My single heart]

Your double Title to My single heart,
Both by your Purchase, and your Parents Right;
Claims both a better and a greater Part
Of gratefull Service, than This slender Mite.
Yet, sith (to profit, more than please) I write
More Sighes than Songs (less vs'd to Smiles than Smart)
Disdain not These Restrainers of Delight;
Though bitter, fitter, than the Smoothing Art,
To keep the Minde and Bodie both in Health;
To coole the Fits of Lust, Ambition, Pride
(Surfaits of Ease, Youth, Liberty, and Wealth)
And cure All Sickness of the Soule, beside.
Whence, Ever free; and full of Every Good
From GOD and Men, be ESSEX Noble Bud.

MEMORIALS OF MORTALITIE.

St. LEWIS; THE KING:

OR A LAMP OF GRACE, lighting the Great (in the right way) TO GLORY

Translated; and Dedicated To My gracious Lord, Prince Charles.

Not that your Highnes needs My mean Direction
(Having, within, a Princely spirit for Guide;
Without, your Parent; round about, beside,
Precepts and Patterns of divine Perfection)
Presume I Thus to bring (in dim Reflexion)
This forrain Lamp (admired far and wide):
But, as An humble Gift This New-Yeers-Tide,
To intimate my Faith, and my Affection.
Your gracious hand Thus bindes my gratefull heart
To Offer Heav'n my Vows; and You, my Verse,
For that Deliverance You have daign'd, in part,
To my poor Hopes, wrackt in your Brothers Herse.
You have begun: Vouchsafe mee, Sacred Powrs,
You may go-on, and make Mee wholly Yours

AD EVNDEM PRINCIPEM Opt. Max.

EPIGRAMMA; Ex Lat. I. O. convers.

Will, Reason, Sense, the Brain, the Head, the Heart;
Each, in his Office, in Thee acts his Part:
Thy Will, thy Wit; thy Sense, thy Reason swaies;
Thy Heart, thy Head, in every point obaies.
Thy Wales hath had Great-stiled Princes Three:
Henry was Fourth: Charles, the Fift Great shall bee.

[In Arthvr's Castle, lies My Hart's Last Cvre]

Eiusdem Augustissimi ANAGRAMMA Quadruplex. Carolvs Stvartvs, Princeps.

In Arthvr's Castle, lies My Hart's Last Cvre:
To which I hasten, drawne by Art's Chast Lvre.

A HYMN OF St. LEWIS (The Ninth of that Name) King of France.

HENRIE THE GREAT (The Fourth of that Name) LATE King of France and Navarr: HIS Tropheis and Tragedie. Written in French By Piere Mathiev.

To the Right Honorable William Cecill, Earle of Salisbury.

Besides the Bonds which did most Vowes engage
To your deere Elders; and besides the Due
Which to your Selfe might iustly thence accrew;
Th'apparant Vertues of our April-age,
Challeng'd of right This Poëms Patronage:
The rather, sith wee first receiu'd from you,
The speedy Notice (no lesse quick than true)
Of Henry's Death, through Hells dis-chained Rage.
You saw this Sunne, at his High-Noone shine Set
In suddaine Clowd of his owne Royall Bloud.
O Horrid Hap! Who euer can forget
Such Fate such Hate; of one so Great, so Good:
O! Iust Revenge, root out th'Ignatian Pack,
The Moules that moou'd in Faux and Rauaillac.

THE TROPHEIS OF THE VERTVES AND Fortune of Henrie the Great.

This Prince, vn-Peerd for Clemency and Courage,
Iustly Sur-nam'd, the Great, the Good, the Wise,
Mirror of Future, Miracle of Fore-Age;
One short Mis-hap for-euer Happifies.

THE BATTAIL OF YVRY:

OR THE BREAK-NECK of The Hellish-Holy Leauge;

In That famous Victorie vvonne By HENRY the Great; Written By Du Bartas: Translated, & Dedicated To The Right Honorable, RICHARD, EARLE of DORSET, By Iosvah Sylvester.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE Earle of Dorset.

As th' awefull Child, that long hath truanted,
Dares not return vnto the Schoole, alone;
For Shame and Feare to be there discipled
With many Stripes for many Faults in One:
So fares (my Lord) My long Omission
Of th'humble Thanks I ought haue tendered
For kinde Endeuors You bestowd vpon
My Right, my Wrong to haue recouered.
And as (in fine) He brings his Mother forth
To beg Forgiueness, or his Fault to scuse:
So bring I heere My deer Du Bartas Worth,
To mediate for My too-faultie Muse;
Whom daign to pardon: and in gentle Part
Accept This last of His, not least in Art.

Ad eundem Comitem Illustrissimum (Nuper ex Gallijs reducem) EPIGRAMMA Ex Lat. I.O.

Aier's Change hath changed (which but rare doth chance)
Your good, to best; in Science and in Sense.
Wiser and better, both; and Both, from France:
Welcom, Great Earle: few are so VVellcom Thence.

THE BATTAIL OF YURY.

SIMILE NON EST IDEM: Seeming is not the Same.

OR All's not Gold that glisters.

To the worthily Honored Sir Henry Baker, Knight-Baronet.

Tis better late, than never to repay:
Better a little, than no Part at all:
Take therfore, in good-part, This Part (though smal)
Of your great Debt: and pardon my Delay,
Till (more mine Owne) with more Respect, I may
In better Measure (as I hope, I shall)
Answere your Merit; though not answere all
Your Bounties Bonds, renewed Day by Day.
Yov minde your Maker, in your Dayes of Youth:
You shew vs, by your Works, your Faith's sincerity:
You are so friendly to the Friends of Truth,
Your vertuous Life so proves your Love to Veritle,
That None I thought, could, with more patient Eye,
Abide to look on this ANATOMIE.

SIMILE NON EST IDEM: Seeming is not the-Same.

OR All's not Gold that glisters.

A GLIMSE OF HEAVENLY IOYES:

OR NEW-HIERVSALEM.

In an old Hymne extracted from the most Divine St. Avgvstine.

To the Worthy Friend of Worthiness, Sr. Peter Manvvood, K. of the Honbl. Order of the Bath.

NEW-HIERVSALEM.

AVTO-MACHIA: OR The Self-Conflict of a Christian.

FROM THE LATIN of Mr. George Goodvvin. Translated; and Dedicated To the truely-Honorable Mrs. Cecilie Nevil.

Anagramma Italiano. Cecilia Nevila. E Vicina al Cul. Heav'ns Neighbour is your Anagram Your Noble Graces prove the same.

[Fair Heir of All Your Mothers Good]

Fair Heir of All Your Mothers Good
(Wit, Vertue, Beauty, Bounty, Blood)
Among the Honors that accrue,
By Her Decease divolv'd to You,
Mine humble Service and This Song
(How little) doth not least belong
(In Little lies a mickle Right;
As in a Million, in a Mite)
To her Memoriall, and Your Merit,
True Mirror of Minerva's Spirit.
Accept it therefore, double Yours;
By Her Donation, and by Ours,

TO THE RIGHT NOBLE, Vertuous and Learned Lady, the Lady Mary Nevil.

Maria Nevila.
Alia Minerva.

AVTO-MACHIA: OR Self-Civil-War.

A CVP OF CONSOLATION for the Christian in his Conflict.

TOBACCO BATTERED;

and THE PIPES SHATTERED (about their Ears that idlely Idolize so base and barbarous a Weed; OR AT LEAST-WISE OVER-LOVE so loathsom Vanity:) BY A Volley of Holy Shot Thundered From Mount Helicon.

To the right Honorable Sir George Viliers, Knight Baron of Whaddon: L. Vicount Viliers: Earle of Bvckingham: Mr of the Horse to his Maiesty: & Knight of the most Noble Order of the Garter, &c.

Your Noble Order, and your hallowed Name,
Your Soverain's Favour, and your owne Profession,
Promise Your Valour towards the Suppression
Of Heathen Foes that Christian Faith defame:
Hence, heer presume wee (by the Trump of Fame)
To call your Aid against the proud Oppression
Of th'Infidel, vsurping Faith's Possession,
That Indian Tyrant, onely England's Shame.
Thousands of Ours heer hath Hee Captive taken,
Of all Degrees, kept vnder slavish Yoak,
Their God, their Good, King, Country, Friends forsaken,
To follow Folly, and to feed on Smoak.
Bee God our Guide, St. George our Generall;
Wee shall repell Him, and redeem Them All.

A Double Anagram.

George Viliers: Sir George Viliers. Re-give glories: Glorie-givers rise.

Sir , Re-give glories; Glorie-givers rise.
How fits your happy Fate, your happy Name!
Wherein, a Precept with a Promise lies,
Presaging Good to grace-full Bvckingham:
For, bee you Gratefull for your Dignities;
God and the King will still increase the same.
God, while you honour Him, will honour You:
The King will favour, while you serue Him, true.

To My Reverend and VVorthy Friend, Mr. William Loe, Batchelor of Divinity.

Lo, what your Love, and this Chimera's hate,
Care of my Friends, Compassion of my Kin;
Zeal of God's Glory, Horror of This Sin;
My Soveraign's Service, Honour of our State:
Lo, What All these had power to propagate
(Perhaps, more happy than my Hope had bin,
When first This Theam you gave mee to begin)
Besides My Way, beyond My Waining Date.
Lo, therefore, Whether, Well or Ill, I fare;
Whether the doubtfull Field I win or lose;
In Fame, or Shame, you needs must have a Share,
Who on my Weaknes did This Waight impose.
Like Moses therefore lift your hands on hie,
That Iosuah's hand may have the Victory.

A VVarning-Piece.

Right noble Nobles, Generous Gentlemen,
Lovers of Honor, and your Countries Weal,
You'll need no Warning to avoid our Peal;
Nor are in Level of our Poudered Pen:
Nor Those that yet will yeeld, and turn agen
From th'Idol-Service of their Smoaky Zeal,
To serve their God, their King, their Common weal:
Wee shoot at Manners, we would saue the Men.
But, Those rebellious that will still stand out
Vnder the Standard of our Heathen Fo,
With Pipe and Pudding rampir'd round about,
Puffing and Snuffing at their threatned Wo;
At such, our Canon shall Heer thunder thick:
Gunner, your Lin-stock; Com, give Fier quick.

TOBACCO BATTERED.

My Third and last Puff points at the Great Evill
This noisom Vapor works (through wily divell).
If wee may judge; if Knowledge may bee had
By their Effects, how things bee good or bad;
Doubtless, th'Effects of This pernicious Weed
Bee mary bad, scarce any good, indeed:
Nor dooth a Man scarce any Good contain,
But of This Evill justly may complain;
As thereby, made in every Part the Worse,
In Body, Soule, in Credit, and in Purse.

LACRYMÆ LACRYMARVM:

OR The Spirit of Teares, Distilled For the vn-timely Death of The incomparable Prince, HENRY (Late) Prince of Wales. By Iosvah Sylvester.

LACRYMÆ LACRYMARVM. A Funeral Elegie.

AN EPITAPH.

When Great French Henry Fates bereft,
His Name and Fame to Ovrs He left;
As ablest ATLAS Then to proppe
The Waight of Worth, the World of Hope:
But, England's Sinnes (a heauier Load)
So ouer-layd His Shoulders broad,
That, chrushed down, Heer lies Hee dead.
So, Hope is fall'n and Wortth is fled.

ANOTHER.

[VVhom All admir'd, whom All (almost) ador'd]

VVhom All admir'd, whom All (almost) ador'd,
For all the Parts of all Pandora's Treasure;
The Hope of all, to haue all Good restor'd;
Him, All our Ills haue slain, by Heav'ns Displeasure.

AN ELEGIAC-EPISTLE Consolatorie.

Against Immoderate Sorrowe for th'immature Decease of Sr. William Sidney Knight, Sonne and Heire apparant To The Right Honourable Robert, Lord Sidney L. Vi-Count Lisle; L. Chamberlain to the Queen, and L. Gouernour of His Maiesties Cautionarie Town of Vlvshing. By Iosvah Sylvester.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, the Lord Vi-count Lisle, and his most vertuous Lady:

To Sir Robert Sidney, Knight, their Hopefull Sonne: To the most Worthy Lady Wroth, with the rest of their right vertuous Daughters: and To all the Noble Sidneys and Semi-Sidneys.

Although I knowe None, but a Sidney's Muse,
Worthy to sing a Sidney's Worthyness:
None but Your Owne

Anagram. La: Wroth.

Al-Worth, Sidnëides,
In whom, her Vncle's noble Veine renewes:
And though I know (sad Nobles) to infuse
My fore-spent Drops into the bound-lesse Seas
Of Your deep Griefs, for your deer Ioy's Decease;
To Your full Ocean nought at-all accrues:
Yet, as (the Floods Queen) Amphitrite daignes
To take the Tribute of small Brooks and Bournes;
Which to Her Bounty (that Their Streams maintains)
The humble Homage of Their Thanks returnes;
Accept These Sighes and these few Teares of Ours,
Which haue their Course but from the Source of Yours.

AN ELEGIAC EPISTLE

HONOR'S FARVVEL To Her Honorable Friends: Or The Ladie Hay's Last Will

TO The Right Honorable Executors & Ouerseers, EDWARD, Lord Denny; IAMES, Lord Hay; & MARY, Lady Denny.

From Gratitude, From Dutie From Affection,
To You (my Lords) Your HONOR, and Your Name
(Without Offence, without Mis-sense, or Blame)
Receiue, conceiue consider This Direction
Against th'Excess, the Rage, The Insurrection
Of Tears, of Sighs, of Sorrowes For This Dame
As Dead, Who Lives (in Soule in Seed, in Fame)
Inspiring Breath Life, Strength, To This Collection
Made, aimed, meant, For quick, Kind, Keen, Correction
Of men, of Minds, of Manners (Ovt Of Frame)
In Citie, Court, and Country (All Too-Blame)
Throgh Sin's, throgh Satan's, Throgh our Selues Infection.
Som Vow, Som Uerse, Som Monument To HONOR
I thought, I ought, and Thus I Dreamed on-Her.

HONOR'S FAREWELL.

Honours Epitaph.

Heer-vnder, lies
The Wonder of her Kinde:
The rarest Work
Of Nature and of Grace:
A beautious Temple
Of a bountious Minde;
Where Venus, Iuno,
Pallas, had their Place.
Nay; Heav'ns and Natures
Gift, singled to Many,
Heer All concurr'd
To Honor Hay and Denny.

To my Reverend Friend, Mr Doctour Hall.

None should, but Thou, This Ladies death bee grieving;
None knew so well the Vertues of her life:
Death's robd of Her Death, by Thy labours rife:
By Thee, is Shee in Heav'n and Earth still living:
In Heav'n, by hearing and (through Thee) beleeving
Th'eternall Word; which taught her holy strife
'Gainst Hell and Sin, and (as becoms a Wife)
Peace with her Spouse, him due Obedience giving:
In Earth, for acting (in so gracious measure)
The twice-preacht Lectures of thy Life and Tongue;
Alms, Meeknes, Mildeness (towards Old and Yong)
Forgiving Wrongs, forgetting all Displeasure.
O happy Seed that fell in such a ground!
And happy Soil that such a Seed-man found.

A FVNERAL ELEGIE

To Gods Glory. IN PIOVS MEMORY OF the nobly vertuous and religious Matrone, Margarite, Wife of Robert Hill, Dr. of Divinity, and Pastor of this Parish.

Heer lies a Margarite, that the most excell'd,
(Her Father Wyts, her Mother Lichterveld,
Rematcht with Metkerk) of remark for birth,
But much more gentle for her genuine worth:
Wyts (rarest) Iewell (so her name bespeaks)
Vertues bright Load-starre, to enlight her Sex
In pious, prudent, peace-full, praise-full life,
Fitting a SARA, and a Sacred's Wife,
Such as SARAVIA, and (her second) HIL,
Whose ioy of life, Death in her Death did kill.

Vxor Felix. Loquitur post funera virtus.

Maritus mœstissimus.

Thy rest gives mee a restless life,
Because thou wert a matchless wife:
But yet I rest in hope to see
That day of Christ, and then see Thee.

Margarita a Iewell.

I, like a iewell tost by Sea and Land,
Am bought by him who wears mee on his hand.

Margarita, Margareta.

A Brief Catechism.

The Preface.

Q.
Know'st thou, my Childe, wherfore thou wast created?

A.
Sir, to serve God, who mee and all created.

Q.
How ought wee him to serve and to adore?

A.
The Summe thereof consisteth in these foure.

Q.
Which foure bee they?

A.
Faith, and obedient Living
After Gods Law, with Praier and Thanksgiving.

Q.
Of each of these apart, and (orderly)
First, of the first let mee examine thee.

1. Of Faith.

Q.
In whom hast thou thy Faith's affiance founded?

A.
In God alone my trust is wholly grounded.

Q.
Why?

A.
God the Father made mee first of nought,
And God the Son redeem'd mee worse then nought,
God th'Holy Ghost (my Guide and Consolation)
Instructs, conducts mee to Sanctification.

Q.
Are th'Holy Ghost, the Father and the Son,
Three gods?

A.
No; Persons three, God onely one.

2. Of Obedience.

Q.
Will God bee served after the Commission
Of his owne word, or after Mans tradition?

A.
Doubtless, according to his owne behest,
And not the motions of mans brain or brest.

Q.
But, of thy self canst thou accomplish fully
The Law of God? canst thou perform it wholly?

A.
No, God doth knowe.

Q.
Who doth it then in thee?

A.
The Holy Ghost begetting Faith in mee.

Q.
Having (within) the Spirit for thy direction,
Canst thou perform obedience, in perfection?

A.
No, neither yet.

Q.
Yet God rejecteth all
That perfectly keep not his Law in all.

A.
'Tis very true.

Q.
How then, or by what action,
Canst thou please God, give the Law satisfaction,
Or scape that Death which to damnation brings?

A.
By Iesus Christ, and by his sufferings.

Q.
How so?

A.
Why thus: Christ our high-priest for ever,
Self-offring once to bee re-offred never,
Hath pleas'd his Father, hath appeas'd our strife,
And by his Death purchast vs endless life;
So that, by lively Faith to vs applying
Th'one Sacrifice of Christ our Saviour dying,
By imputation w'have his righteousnes,
As Ours, with God; and thereby life and peace.

3. Of Praier.

Q.
Whom prai'st thou to?

A.
To the true God (of powr
And will to help) who hears vs every hour.

Q.
But in whose name will hee bee call'd vpon?

A.
Onely in Christ's, our Saviour and his Son,
Our Price, our Peace, our Reconciliation,
Our Advocate of much commiseration,
Sole Mediatour of Mankinde; who needs
No Aid of Saints, or any that succeeds.

4. Of Thanksgiving.

Q.
While Christ, our King, our Prophet, Priest, and Preacher,
Converst with his Disciples, as a Teacher;
Tell mee, I pray, how many Sacraments
Did hee ordain his Church for evidence?

A.
Two.

Q.
Which are they?

A.
Baptism, and the Supper
Which hee assign'd the night yer hee did suffer.

Q.
Of Sacraments what end, what vse have wee?

A.
Signes to our Sense, seals to our Faith they bee.

Of Baptism.

Q.
What is it that is signifi'd vnto vs
In sacred Baptism?

A.
It betokens to vs
Full pardon and remission of our sins,
And a new birth, where better Life begins.

Q.
But in whose name is Baptism to bee giv'n?

A.
In th'onely Name of th'one-three God of Heav'n;
The Father, Son and Holy Ghost: to whom
Be praise alwaies beyond all time to come.

Of the Lords Supper.

Q.
What's signifi'd vnto vs and presented
In th'Holy Supper?

A.
There is represented
The true Communion of Christs Bodie and Blood
Giuen for, and to vs, for immortall food:
Whereby our soules are fed in expectation
Of Life eternall purchast by his passion.

Q.
When wee receive these Mysteries Divine,
What's showne vnto vs by the Bread and Wine?

A.
These Elements, before vs lively figure
Of Christ his Death the virtue and the vigor.
For, as our bodies by the staff of Bread,
And cheer-heart Wine, are strengthned heer, and fed:
Even so his Body and his Blood doo nourish
Our Faith-mouth'd Soules, that they may never perish.

Q.
But, is Christ present in the Sacrament?

A.
Yea: and his Flesh hee doth vs there present.

Q.
How meanest thou, that the substantiall Essence
(After a reall and a carnall presence)
Of Christ his Body, in the Bread is closed;
And, of his Blood within the Wine inclosed?

A.
No; nothing less.

Q.
Then plainly let mee knowe
Where wee may finde him.

A.
Not in Earth belowe;
But, in Heav'ns glory, with his glorious Sire:
Whence, hee shall com, to judge the World, in Fire.

Q.
But, to climb Heav'n, what Ladder can suffize vs?

A.
Faith.

Q.
Then wee must beleeve, ere yee advize vs
Vnto this Feast for faithfull ones ordain'd.

A.
So it behooves.

Q.
But, how is Faith attain'd?

A.
Faith coms by hearing; when the Holy Spirit
Works with the word, and in vs doth aver-it;
Confirming vs in all the promises
Which in his Gospell Christ hath made to his.

The Praier.

Q.
O Gracious GOD, that grant'st the just Desires
Of Soules whose zeal to thee by Faith aspires:
Sith onely those doo worthily receive
The Sacred, Supper which thy Son did leave;
Who first by Faith, with strict examination,
Doo sound themselves by vpright conversation:
Give vs the grace, so to examine (then)
Our Faith and Life as appertains.

A.
AMEN.

SPECTACLES

New-New Polished Perspective SPECTACLES of Especial Vse, To discern THE WORLDS Vanite, Levite and Brevite

1 Sol, Annus, Stellæ.

When wee can stop th'accustomed Career
Of Heav'ns bright Champion, mounted on the Dawn:
When Wee can cease the Circuit of the Yeer,
Whose winged Car, by Months, Daies, Hours, is drawn:
When Wee can stint the Wandring Armies cleer,
Which march above (in Blew-Gold-tinseld Lawn)
Tilting at Ours Their many-pointed Eies:
Then may Wee stay the World's Inconstancies.

2 Orbis Cœli & Terræ.

Who will not wonder, looking-vp, to see
The moving Heav'ns set, certain, Constancy;
When, looking-down, in Earth vnmov'd and stable,
Hee nothing findes but vainly variable?
What lives on Earth, what-so partakes of Clay,
Is frail and mortall; hath no Rest nor Stay:
Heav'ns rest-less roule; yet in the Heav'ns ther dwells
An end-less Rest, and Life that life excells.

3 Quatuor Elementa.

Fire, Air, Earth, Water, warring Each with Other,
Turn and return them one into another;
As pleas'd th'All-Maker in This All dispose
Th'accorded Discords of these Friendly-Foes:
To shew, that Wee should for our Blisse repair
Else-where then where is Earth, Fire, Water, Air;
And that Our Rest rests in a Place far higher
Then Earth, or Water, or the Air, or Fier.

4 Mare.

Is Ought more fierce, more furious to withstand,
Then stormy Billows of the raging Sea?
Is Ought more feeble then the flitting Sand?
Yet doth the Sand the swelling Ocean stay.
O! then, how fiercer! O! how furious more
Is th'aw-less Storm of Man's Concupiscence!
Which so transports him, that no Sand, no Shore,
No Bank, no Bound, can stop his Violence.

5 Fontes et Flumina.

You silver Brooks, cleer Rivers, crystall Fountains,
Whose smooth swift-sliding pase
Still, still roules down apace;
Say, why so long you drive through Vales and Mountains?
To shew Thee, that thy Life (in This Theater)
Flees from thee as the Water:
And, that thy Soverain Bliss
Abides not Heer; where nought abiding is.

6 Dies.

When the Day (the Sun's bright Son)
New-awake, begins discover
Mountain-Tops new-gilded-over,
With his ruddy Raies thereon:
That (mee thinks) should make vs think
On that true eternall Morning,
When no Night shall bee returning,
When both Heav'n and Earth shall shrink.

7 Nox.

When the Night's black Curtain, spread,
Hides the Day, and Light bereaveth;
Then, my wakening Thought conceiveth
Other Night, more dark, more dread:
There where Worldlings, wilfull-blinde,
Loath Instruction, leave Light's Mirror,
Double-nighted in dark Error;
Self put-outing Light of Minde.

8 Ver.

When youthfull Spring the Earth in green hath drest,
When Trees with Leaves and Blossoms them re-vest;
Their Flowers (white, red, blew, yellow)
Betoken Fruit to follow.
But, Worldlings, though they flourish in their Prime,
Nor bud, nor bear, nor bring-forth Fruit, in time:
Their Health, Wealth, Wit, mis-wasted,
Are but as Blossoms blasted.

9 Æstas.

When Summer's Heat hath don his Part,
The Husband hath a gladsom heart;
Sith golden Threasures of the Plains
Make large Amends for all his Pains.
But, th'idle Lubber, labour-loathing,
Walking, talking, wishing Store;
Sowing Nought, but Winde, before;
Shall, but Winde behinde, reap Nothing.

10 Autumnus.

When the Leaves in Autumn wither,
With a tawny tanned Face
Warpt and wrinkled-vp together,
Th'Yeers late Beauty to disgrace:
There thy Life's Glass maist thou finde-thee,
Green now, gray now, gon anon;
Leaving (Worldling) of thine Owne,
Neither Fruit, nor Leaf behinde-thee.

11 Hyems.

When chill Winter's cheer wee see
Shrinking, shaking, shivering Cold;
See Our Selves: for, Such are Wee
After Youth, if ever Old.
After Winter, Spring (in order)
Coms again: but, Earthly Thing,
Rotting Heer, not rooting further,
Can Thy Winter hope a Spring?

12 Quinque Sensus.

How swift is Beauty vanisht from thine Ey!
How sudden Musick drowned in thine Ear!
How soon doo Odours from thy Nostrils fly!
How short, touch-Pleasures (tipt with Pain and Fear)!)
How sowre, Taste-sweetest, in small time's expense-is!
Then, Epicure, well may wee blame thee, since,
All vnder Sense thus vain, Thou hast no sense
Of Vanity, which so besots thy Senses.

13 Vita & Mors.

Worldlings that live in State, and dy in Strife,
Wretched their Death, and wretched is their Life.
For, their Life kils them, keeps them fetter'd in
The Chains of Death, the Cage and Wage of Sin.
Their Death is double; termin'd and eternall:
So much more deadly as it dyeth not.
For Errors, Terrors heer; there, Torments hot:
Their Life, a Death; their Death, a Life infernall.

14 Eccho.

What is the World, but a vain Eccho's Sounding,
From Woods, and Caves, and hollow Rocks rebounding?
A new No-noise, a dead-live Voice, to summon
Deluded Ears to listen to a Dumb-one:
A speaking Fiction of a mocking Faëry:
A formall Answer, in Effect but aiëry?
Hence, hence, vain Eccho, with thine idle Mocks:
Keep in thy Woods, sleep in thy Caves and Rocks.

15 Incarceratus & Mendicus.

As a close Prisoner, in dark Durance chained,
Dreams that hee walks, runs, ranges, at his will:
As a poor Begger, with sharp hunger pained,
Dreams that hee eats, and yet is empty still:
So, the World's Captives, sleeping heer securely,
Dream them the Freest, in their deepest Thrall;
Dream them abounding, seeming Lords of all:
Yet still are Beggers, and still Prisoners surely.

16 Fumus & Aura, convivium.

The Worldling feeds his greedy Minde
With golden Hopes of high Conceipts
(As vain and void as Smoak and Winde)
Which prove in fine but fine Deceipts;
Yet keenly set his Teeth on Edge.
No Mervail though: for, hee must needs
Bee ever light, that ever feeds
On Winde and Smoak (and Chaff and Sedge).

17 Cupido & Timor, constitutum.

Desire and Fear the Worldling ever martyrs,
Still double-racked with Two divers Tortures:
Desire's a Fire, running through all his Bones,
Which dries him, fries him, and his Rest bereaves:
His Fear's a Frost, chilling his hart at-once,
Killing his Hopes, spilling the Webs hee weaves:
So that, distract with Fear and with Desire,
In Frost hee fries, and freezes in the Fire.

18 Ambitio, Luxus, Avaritia.

Ambition, Luxe, and Avarice, Three Witches
(Ladies, I should say) whom the World doth woo
With sute and service (and that slavish too)
For their three Daughters, Honour, Pleasure, Riches,
Serve All alike: th'Ambitious, but with Winde:
With Woes, the Wanton (after Shewes of Mirth):
The Avaricious, with som Crums of Earth;
Ever the less, the more hee sets his Minde.

19 Avis & Navis.

As in the Air th'high-soaring Ægle scuds:
As on the Water slides the winged Ship:
So flees, so flits, the Wealth of worldly Goods;
So swift away doth wanton Pleasure slip.
And, as wee cannot, in the Air or Water,
See the Ships furrow, nor the Ægles footing:
When Wealth is past, and Pleasure poasted after;
To track their Trace, nor is, nor can bee booting.

20 Fratres in Malo.

Th'Ambitious alwaies doth aloft aspite;
Honour on Honour striving still to heap:
The Avaritious sloopeth his Desire,
From vnder ground his Golden Crop to reap.
Th'One tendeth vpward, th'Other downward tends;
As if at Ods, and vtterly Contrary:
Yet, though they seem, indeed they doo not vary;
But mean to meet together in their Ends.

21 Væ vobis.

Who but hath heard Both bitterly deplore
Their dismall Fortune, and disastrous Fate?
O! cries th'Ambitious, I have lost my State:
O! th'Avaritious, I have lost my Store.
Why cry you out on Wracks, and Rocks, and Shelves,
And Wars, and Wiles, that have your States vndon?
Rather complain, rather cry-out, vpon
Your Goods and Greatnes, where you lost your Selves.

22 Punctus non dividendus.

Is Heav'n a Circle, and is Earth the Centre
So small a Point (as Sages oft have showne)?
Why then, fond Mortals dare you Battell venture,
Who the most part of so small Point shall owne?
Why, silly Worldlings, doo you toil you so,
Train'd with false Hopes of your too-fond Ambition?
O! dangerous Error is it, not to knowe
'Tis vain to strain about a Point's Partition.

23 Onus cuique suum.

Sure, Avarice is an extreme Disease;
So is Ambition an extreme Vexation:
Yet shall wee finde, survaying Both of These,
That Eithers Self bears his Owne several Passion.
But, th'egre Fit, the Force, the Frenzy (rather)
Mis-called Love (dead-Living, merry Sadnes)
Of One same Sicknes makes Two sick together;
And Two at-once mad of One very Madnes.

24 Dulce venenum, vel sibi lædens.

Why wail'st Thou, Fondling? and why weep you, Fair?
Sighing your Soules into the sense-less Air?
Blame but your Selves: Desire is your Disease:
Your Pain proceeds from what your Selves doth please.
Your chief Content is in your Torment's top:
Your most Delight is in your most Diseasing:
You drink you drunk in the sweet-bitter Cup,
Which sowres your Ioies, and makes Annoies as pleasing.

25 Aquæ, Sagittæ, Venti.

Swiftly, Water sweepeth by:
Swifter, winged Arrows fly:
Swiftest yet, the Winde that passes,
When the neather clouds it chases.
But, the Ioies of Earthly Mindes,
Worldly Pleasures, vain Delights,
Far out-swift far sudden flights,
Waters, Arrows, and the Windes.

26

[In constant Country, Thou maist Witnes bee]

In constant Country, Thou maist Witnes bee,
The World hath nought but vain Inconstancy.
Thy Peace for War, thy War for Peace; thou takest:
Thou doubtfull floatest on vncertain Waves:
Thou ween'st, thy slaughter thee from Shambles saves:
Thy most Despight thy most Delight thou makest.
Th'hast nothing fixed, nothing firm, in Thee;
Nor constant Ought, but thine Inconstancy.

27 Mundus qualis.

What is the World? tell, Worldling (if thou knowe-it)
If it bee good, why doo all Ills o'r-flowe-it?
If it bee bad, why dost thou like it so?
If it bee sweet, how coms it bitter then?
If it bee bitter, what bewitcheth men?
If it bee Friend, why kils it (as a Foe)
Vain-minded Men that ouer-love and lust-it?
If it bee Foe, Fondling, how dar'st thou trust-it?

28 Aura, Flos, Vnda.

World's best Beauty Self-defaces,
Sooner then the Puff that passes:
Sooner then the fragrant Flowr,
Blowne and mowne within an Howr:
Sooner then a Wave (that follows)
His owne Predecessor swallows.
O! what is then then the World wee have?
Alas! a Blast, a Bloom, a Wave.

29 Quam malë conveniunt!

More eas'ly far may Wee
Make Black and White,
And Day and Night,
In one same Term agree:
And rather (rarely-od)
Wed Fire and Water;
Death and Nature:
Than with the World match GOD.

30 Emblema.

Friend Faber, cast mee a round hollow Ball
Blown ful of Wind (for Emblem of this All):
Adorn it fair, and flourish every part
With Flowrs and Fruits, with Brooks, Beasts, Fish & Fowl;
With rarest Cunning of thy curious Art:
And grave in Gold, about my silver Bowl,
Thus roules the World (the Idol of Mankinde)
Whose Fruit is Fiction; whose Foundation, Winde.

31 Glacies.

Ice is fair, and shines externall;
Fair and shining th'All-Theater:
From the Ice they fall in Water;
From the World to Death eternall.
Both at last shall vanish: Ice
Into Water shall re-solve;
All the World (and all his Vice)
Into Nothing shall dissolve.

32 Rome (Conquerer) conquered.

The Stranger, wondring, stalks, and stares-vpon
Rome's antique Glories, in her Ruines seen:
Hee sees high Archs, huge shining Heaps of Stone,
Maim'd, mutil'd, murder'd, by yeers wasteful Teene
Hee sees a rugged, ragged, rocky Quar
Hang in the Air, with Ivie laç't about.
O! what can last, alas! (then cries hee out)
Sith Time hath conquer'd the World's Conquerer?

33 Arbor.

The World's a Tree (in my Conceit)
The Arms wide-spread, the Body great,
The Root deep-reaching, nie to Hell:
The Leaves fresh varnisht lively green,
The Blossoms various to bee seen:
The Fruit doth suit the rest right well:
The Flowr it bears, Som Beauty call;
Hony the Fruit; indeed, but Gall.

34 Hortus.

The World's a Garden; Pleasures are the Flowers;
Of fairest hues, in form and number many:
The Lilly (first) pure-whitest Flowr of any,
Rose sweetest rare, with Pinked-Gillie-Flowrs:
The Violet, and double Mari-Gold,
And Pansie too: but, after all Mischances,
Death's Winter coms; and kils, with sudden Cold,
Rose, Lilly, Violet, Mari-Gold, Pink, Panses.

35 Avaritia, Invidia.

Never have, and ever crave,
Are the Worldlings thoughts intire:
Honour, Wealth; the more they have,
More they covet, more aspire.
They never doo enjoy their Owne,
But Other's wish, like, love, admire:
And having All, yet have they None;
For, after All, they more desire.

36 Scientia & Ignorantia.

In Heav'ns sweet Language have I learn'd yer This,
That to the Wise the world's as Night to Morning;
As Deaw to Sun; as Cloud to Noon-sted is:
For, vertuous Knowledge, in his brest bright-burning,
Is Morning, Sun and Noon: but, Ignorance
Is th'vgly Night; Pleasures, the vading Deaw;
Cloud Vanity, which doth our Soules pursue,
Till Vertues Raies infuse their Radiance.

37 Bona cur Mala.

Antiquity, O! why didst Thou devise
This name of Goods vnto these worldly Riches!
Sith th'are (alas!) but Evils (Pains or Pitches)
To silly men that doo them over-prize.
Rather, ô Worldling, why dost thou misuse them?
Why dost thou wrong Vertues good Instruments?
Goods (Ills to those that doo them ill dispense)
Sith Goods are Goods to those that rightly vse them.

38 Quatuor Monarchiæ.

The Babylonian, with ambitious fist,
First the grand Sceptre of the World possest:
The Persian, Him; The Grecian, Him dismist:
Him, th'awfull Roman after dispossest:
And Him, his Owne Waight let not long subsist;
Him, his Owne Greatnes ruin'd with the rest.
Who then (alas!) this Fall of Monarchs seeing,
Can hope in Earth for an eternall Beeing?

39 Glacies.

Hee that makes the World his Nest,
Settling heer his onely Rest;
Never craving other Scope,
Never having higher Hope:
What thinks (think you) such a One?
Thus: To sit secure vpon
A Ball of Ice, a slippery Bowl,
Which on the Seas doth ever roule.

40 Diruit Edificans.

When-as the Worldling moils, and toiles, and tires,
Incessantly to heave-vp Wealth on Wealth,
Pleasure on Pleasure, Stile on Stile; by stealth,
To reach the Top of his too-vain Desires:
When, the more loaden, the less Waight he feeleth,
Plotting his Ease i'th'Pain hee doth pursue-in:
When Hoord on Hoord, when Heap on Heap he hilleth,
What doth hee else but build himself his Ruine?

41 Bellum cum vitijs.

One-Day I saw the World in furious Fight
With lovely Vertue, his most loathed Foe:
It dared her, shee bravely did defie't:
It entred Lists (Shee first had entred though):
It traverses, it toils, it heaws, it hacks;
But all in vain, his blowes com never nigh-her:
For, the World's Weapons were but lythie Wax,
And Vertue's Shield is of celestiall Fier.

42 Naufragium.

Thou, thou, whose heart dives in the World so deep,
Seest thou thy Case? know'st thou thy own Condition?
Like head-less Bark tost 'twixt the Opposition
Of blustring Storms which every way doo sweep.
Reason, thy Rudder, is already lacking:
The Gales of Pleasure, and the Gusts of Passion,
Hurry thee headlong in the Gulf of Fashion,
On Rocks of Death thy wretched Life soon wracking.

43 Mors in Olla.

VVhere's Death? I'th'VVorld. VVhere is the VVorld? In Death:
Death to it Self: for, nothing in the VVorld
Kills and confounds the VVorld, more than the VVorld;
VVhich breeds, and feeds, and giveth Life to Death.
But, from the VVorld could God's Love wean the VVorld,
Killing the VVorld's Love, and his Issue, Death;
Then happy wee should triumph over Death;
The VVorld not worldly; Death dead in the VVorld.

44 Somnium.

I sawe, I sawe, the VVorld was but a Dream,
When Heav'ns shrill Voice had rouz'd and rais'd my eies:
For, in the VVorld I found but Lies;
Eies clos'd, Ears stopt, Mindes inly toil'd extream;
All Dark, all Night: Man out of Man (in Cumber)
Himself with Fumes and Phant'sies feeding,
Not feeling Pains, nor Passions heeding;
Loth to bee waked from so sweet a Slumber.

45 Quasi non vtens.

O! happy Hee can bee so highly wise,
As not to knowe the vain and vitious Pleasures
The Vitious take (when they will take their leasures)
VVhich so besot their Soules, and blinde their Eies.
O! happy Hee that can disdain and deem
Those Pleasures, Poisons; and that Hony, Gall.
But, who can so? Hee that, contemning All,
Lives in the VVorld, and not the VVorld in Him.

46 Monstrum horrendum.

VVhat Monster's that which hath so many Heads;
So many Ears, so many Eies between;
So lively clad before in lusty Green;
So black behinde, in cloudy Cloak of Shreds;
His feet so sliding down a round steep Hill;
Rouled by Time, which turns it swift away;
Death, running after, shooteth at it still?
Ah! now I see. What is't? The World, I say.

47 Sordescit & Surdescit.

Stay, Worldling, stay: Whither-away so fast?
Hark, hark awhile to Vertue's Counsels Current.
No, no: alas! after the World, in haste,
Hee hies, flies, follows: as a rapid Torrent
Too-proudly swelling with som fresh Supply
Of liquid Silver from the Welkin gushing,
My warning (as a Rock) hee rouleth by
With roaring Murmur, sudden over-rushing.

48 Sufficit Vnum.

'T was a loud Lie (think I) a very Slander,
Th'Ancients ascribe t'ambitious Alexander,
Weeping for wo there were no mo Worlds made.
Suffiz'd not One, so busie and so bad?
If true it were, Great Monarch, cease to mourn;
And give Mee leave: O! let Me weep my Turn;
Who strain and strive, yet cannot all my Care
All Vanities of this One World declare.

49 Variabile.

Vary, re-vary; tune, and tune again
(Anon to This String, and anon to That;
Base, Trebble, Tenor; swift, slowe, sharp and flat)
Thy One same Subject in a sundry Strain;
To represent, by thy so divers Ditties,
The dying World's so divers Alterations:
Yet will the World have still mo Variations;
And, past thy Verse, thy various Subject yet-is.

50

'T is but Vanity and Folly,
On the World to settle wholly.
All the Ioies of all this Life
Are but Toyes, Annoyes and Strife.
O God! onely wise and stable,
To establish Mee in Thee,
Give mee, Thou that art All-able,
Wisdom with true Constancy.

MOTTOES.

[The highest Rocks and Hils]

The highest Rocks and Hils,
Which seem the Clouds to threaten,
With roughest Storms are beaten:
The lofty Cedar feels
The Lightnings Flash and Thunder:
So Gods Almighty hand
Soon from aloft brings vnder
The Proudest that withstand.

[What's the Wisdom of Mankinde?]

What's the Wisdom of Mankinde?
What the Works of hand or minde?
What the Vertues of the Rarest?
What is all our Best and Fairest,
Void of Cstrist? Alas! a Grave,
Dungeon, Den or dreadfull Cave,
Lin'd with Winde, with Shades, with Vapors,
Set on fire with deadly Tapers.

[Where, where are now the great Reports]

Where, where are now the great Reports
Of those huge haughty Earth-born Giants?
Where are the lofty Towrs and Forts
Of those proud Kings bade Heav'n Defiance?
When Them I to my Minde revoke,
Mee thinks I see a mighty Smoke
Trick-mounting from quick-burning Matter.
Which in an instant VVindes doo scatter.

[Go, silly VVorms, drudge, trudge and travell]

Go, silly VVorms, drudge, trudge and travell,
Lespising Pain;
So Thou maist gain
Som Honour, or som Golden Gravell:
But Death the while (to fill his number)
VVith sudden Call
Takes thee from All,
To prove thy Daies but Dream and Slumber.

[Art Thou, Man, no more now mindefull]

Art Thou, Man, no more now mindefull
Of thy Childe-hood, brute and blindefull?
Dost thon laugh, and dost thou sing
Th'Errors of thy Youth and Folly?
Canst thou bee so blithe and iolly,
Towards Age now galloping?
Rather wail thy Life's Condition,
Thrall to Sin, Death and Perdition.

[I saw a childe with slender pipe of stubble]

I saw a childe with slender pipe of stubble
(From hollow shell with Soap and Water mixt)
Against a Wall to blowe-vp many a Bubble;
Where many an Ey of many by was fixt:
For, rich they seem'd, and firm round Form did render.
But, when I saw them (and that suddenly)
Break at the Best; behould a Type, said I,
Of World's vain glory, and soon-vading splendor.

[When I read, when I contemple]

When I read, when I contemple,
Th'estate of that happy Temple
Christ hath planted heer belowe
Amid this World; and grafied so
On Durt, in danger of the Divell;
Sad and glad at-once I am:
I imbrace and chase the Evill:
Heav'n I shun, yet seek the same.

[The World is full of Wrong and yet is serv'd too-well]

The World is full of Wrong and yet is serv'd too-well:
'Tis too-well follow'd too, and yet a Tyrant fell:
'T's an vgly Monster-most, and yet the Most contenteth:
'Tis on the Death-bed laid, and yet of Life it vanteth:
'Tis Sorrow, Shame and Losse, and yet is most approved:
'Tis nothing but a Crosse, and yet is best beloved:
'Tis seeking Peace in VVar; choaks whom it seems to cherish:
'Tis hating Heav'n, for Earth; and it in Hell shall perish.

[This World is a Galley fraighted]

This World is a Galley fraighted
With mis-haps (or Haps mis-treated)
Sliding on a sea of Care.
Tears and Fears her Sailers are:
Will, her Pilot (still at Stern, all):
Strong Desires, her Windes (for most):
Bitter-sweet, her Course and Coast:
And her Hav'n is Death eternall.

[What's the World's Progress? what our Gifts, heer living?]

What's the World's Progress? what our Gifts, heer living?
But a foul way, all full of Baulks and Sloughs:
(A foolish Coach-man, false and dangerous,
Through thick and thin our old weak Chariot driving)
A smoaky Lodging, stinking, nastie-most:
A greedy, needy, churlish, filthy Hoste:
A stony Bed, a strange vnquiet Slumber:
Awaakt with Lies, Pride, Perill, and Incumber.

[Monarch's greatest Greatnes heer]

Monarch's greatest Greatnes heer,
Nobles noblest Ranks and Races,
Worthies Tropheis, passing peer;
Sages Worth, for Wisdom cleer;
Time (alas!) and Death defaces.
Why then fix wee heer our Eies
On this glimpse that sudden passes?
Rather rear them to the Skies.

[Why, why should I the World bee minding]

Why, why should I the World bee minding,
Therein a World of Evils finding?
Then farwell, World: farwell thy Iarres,
Thy Toies, thy Toies, thy Wiles, thy Wars.
Truth sounds Retreat: I am not for-ye.
Th'Eternall draws to him my heart
By Faith (which can thy Force subvert)
To crown mee (after Grace) with Glory.

[What Beautie's This, so brave bedeckt in Riches?]

What Beautie's This, so brave bedeckt in Riches?
Whose wanton Looks, whose waving Locks and Song,
As with a Dart, a Chain, a Charm (too-strong)
Self-blindes, self-bindes, and self it self bewitches?
O! 'tis the World t'a Courtisan transformed,
VVho pranks and paints her Body round about:
But all this Beauty onely is without,
And cannot hide the Soule, within, deformed.

[The World and Flesh combin'd with Death and Sin]

The World and Flesh combin'd with Death and Sin,
Against th'immortall Soule were privie-banding;
Selfe Traitor Nature had even let them in;
Had not the Faith for Sentinell bin standing;
Who, by the the Cross, did Sin, Flesh, VVorld subdew:
VVhereby, the Soule re-heartened and revived,
Led by her Head, pursewd the Fight and slew,
Slew Death, which sought Her Life to have deprived.

[Death's dead indeed, the World yet is not]

Death's dead indeed, the World yet is not;
But yet, yet rules the World about;
Of Earth's Affront no more in doubt:
Sith her heer fighting more it sees not.
For, Faith hath now in Heav'n her Station,
Forth of the World; disdaining heer
To see her Seat vsurpt so neer
By Error and Equivocation.

[Why? why build Worlds their Hopes Assurance]

Why? why build Worlds their Hopes Assurance
On this vain Worlds vnduring Durance?
Sith all the Sweet of worldly Pleasures,
Worldly Honours, worldly Threasures,
Is Nothing but a Blast, a Breath,
An addle Hope, an idle Dreaming,
A sudden Storm with fury streaming,
And drowning all in Gulf of Death.

[The World's a Drumm, with loud Alarum stirring]

The World's a Drumm, with loud Alarum stirring
The World to War; and too-too-cruel spurring
Son against Sire. The Means if you would finde,
'Tis by a Mean that is but made of Winde.
But tell mee World, How coms a simple Sound
Sext but from Skins, vpon a Skin but beating,
T'incite thee so, so to be stir thee round
To face thy Force, thy Faces Force so threating?

[Why sleest thou, World? Alas! to seek Assurance.]

Why sleest thou, World? Alas! to seek Assurance.
Where to bee found, if in the World it fail?
There where the World doth not the World assail.
Why? doth the World cause to it self Ill-durance?
Yes; too-too much: for, in Fire, Air, Earth, Water,
The World self-drowns, self-burns, self-hangs self-slaies.
Flee then to Heav'n. Fond Hee that Anchor laies
In th'Euripus of This vain World's Theater.

[Friend Larkin, if the World you figure]

Friend Larkin, if the World you figure,
You must not draw it round of Figure:
For, Sage should the compleat Round
In every part is perfect found.
So never can this VVorld bee; seeing
There wants the Chief, The chiefest Good:
And Nothing there (right vnderstood)
But Nothing hath (inconstant) Beeing.

[Sooner shall all the Heav'ns bright Eies]

Sooner shall all the Heav'ns bright Eies
Cease their set Courses in the Skies:
Sooner shall the Ocean
Have no more Motion:
Sooner them worldly mindes remooved
From vain Deceits
Of Earthly Baits,
By VVorldlings heer too-deer-beloved.

[The World and Death one day them cross-disguised]

The World and Death one day them cross-disguised
To cosen Man (when Sin had once beguil'd him)
Both cald him forth; and questioning advised
To say, whose servant hee would fainly yeeld him.
Man, weening then but to the World t'have given-him,
By the false World becam the Slave of Death:
But, from their fraud Hee did appeal by Faith
To HIM, whose Death kild death, and hence hath driven-him.

[The World's Session, or Assize]

The World's Session, or Assize:
The Counseller is Arrogancy:
Sin the Sollicitor (feed by Fancy)
Th'Attourney is but vain Surmise:
Remorse is Marshall: Conscience, Crier:
Death sits as Iudge in dreadfull room;
Pronouncing for a final Doom,
The Sentence of eternall fire.

[You tanned Tiphyes, whom Gain's love bewitches]

You tanned Tiphyes, whom Gain's love bewitches,
From Inde to Inde, and from the North to Nile,
To sound new seas, to seek new shores, the While
Your Life's best Hope but in a Plank and Pitch-is.
What Pilot have you but your Passion, still?
Your Rudder, Avarice; your Mast, Ambition;
Your Sails, but Priae; which Furies Puffs doo fill:
What think you then to gain, but deep Perdition?

[This World is but a Pilgrimaging]

This World is but a Pilgrimaging,
Where wicked men, most felly raging,
Doo trudge and travell most devout:
But, from the right way wandring out,
They headlong fall in Pit of Terror,
The Gulf of Death. But, O my God,
Guiding my steps in better Road,
Draw mee to Thee from worldlings Error.

An Appendix.

Although thou canst not write so rare a Ditty,
Nor sing so sweetly, bee thou vertuous though:
For, dooing well is more then saying so:
And, to bee Wise, is more then to bee Witty.
The Vertuous, reading and recording sweet
These sacred Songs, is cheered in his Courses:
The Vitious, reading, singing, rather worse is:
Rapt with the Sound; not with the Sense, awhit.
Surcease thy Musick lay aside thy Muses:
Paschal and Pibrac yon have toild too-long:
Seeing that Vertue serves but for a Song
To this vain World, that on all Mischief muses.
Lo, heer in Paper is poor Vertue painted:
Alas, dead Vertue! Thus these Times doo vse-thee:
Yet, if all hands, yet if all hearts refuse-thee,
Remain Thou ever in these Songs imprinted.
As fiercest Lion, freiting in his Cage,
Is somtimes calmed with harmonious sounding
Of Lyrike Strings, and made to leave his Rage,
Let go his Prey, and fall to Dance-like bounding:
So, the vain World, in Pangs and Passions flinging,
Charm'd (as it were) and bound with seventy Chains,
It's Fits and Phansies, for a while, refrains;
Heer, to it Self, it Selfe's Inconstance singing.

THE WOOD-MANS BEAR.

A Poeme By Iosvah Sylvester.

To the VVorshipfull, his most approoved Friend, M. Robert Nicolson.

TO HIS DIVINE ARC TO A her devout Arctophilos.

THE WOOD-MANS BEAR.

EPITHALAMION.

Milde vertues mirror, Beauties monument,
Adorned with heauens praise, and earths prrfection:
Receiue (I pray you) with a brow vnbent,
This petty pledge of my poore pure affection,
Had I the Indians golden heapes and hoordes,
A richer present would I then present you.
Now such poore fruites as my bare field affoordes
Instead of those, here haue I rudely sent you.
Count not the gifts worth, but the giuers will:
Oft mighty Princes haue accepted small things;
Like as the aire all empty parts doth fill,
So perfect frendship doth supply for all things.
O be it euer so: so neuer smart
Nor teene shall trouble the Soon calm in hart.
Mind first your Maker in your dayes of youth:
Aske grace of him of him to gouerne well your waies:
Reuerence your Husband with vnspotted truth:
Take heede of pride, the poison of our daies:
Hant not with those that are of light report:
Auoid the vile charmes of vnchaste temptation.
Neuer lend looke to the lasciuious sort:
Impeach not any's honest reputation:
Comfort the poore, but not beyond your power:
Ouer your houshold haue a needfull care:
Lay hold on Times locke, lose not any hower:
Spend, but in season; and in season spare:
Ofspring, if any heauen vouchsafe to send you,
Nurture them godly; and good end attend you.
So shall your life in blessings still abound,
So from all harme th'almightie hand shall shend you,
So with cleare honour shall your head be crownd,
So for your virtue shall the wise commend you,
So shall you shun vile slanders blasting voice,
So shall you long inioy your louing Pheare,
So shall you both be blessed in your choice,
So to each other be you euer deare.
O! be it euer so in euery part,
That nought may trouble the Soon calm in hart.

A HOLY PREPARATION to a ioifull Resurrection.

Full of Ioy, Blisse, endlesse Glorie
(Freed of Feare, Griefe, sin-full Folly)
Loud-singing Holy, Holy, Holy. Amen.

THE MYSTERIE OF MYSTERIES.

THE FATHER.

THE SONNE.

THE HOLY-GHOST.