Times Cvrtaine Drawne :: :: University of Virginia Library

Great Christian king soueraigne of many hearts,
Royall supporting-Atlas of all arts;
Bellonas Chieftaine, & Minervaes friend,
True worths aduancer: please thee to attend,
To one of Albyons Swainelins, who would be
Blest in himselfe, writing ought worthie thee.

Long may our Whitecliffs, which gaue Albyon name,
Prepare themselues such friends to entertaine;
Long may our far-fam'd Court her luster show,
Made glorious by such royall Friends as thou.
Long may our Halcyon daies crowne Albyons King,
While prosperous gailes such Friends a-shore doe bring.
Long may our Cōmerce free to both remain,
The Dane with English, English with the Dane.
Happie vnited powers confirm'd by loue,
And nere-Alliance, as those quires aboue.
May you keepe blessed concord, and renew
Your yeares by Times successe: O may that dew
Destill'd on Hermon, fructifie your Land,
Shielded and shored by the soueraigne hand
Of the Almightie: that no forraigne Foe,
Nor homebred Innouatour, may vndoe
That sacred Vnion, so bequeath'd to eyther,
As hand in hand, you may march on together.
And thou Triumphant Queene, that dissipates
The spacioust Prouinces, and raisest states
By vnexpected meanes, (Great Victorie)
Smile (O attend my Prayer) auspiciously,
On two religious Kingdomes! May thy wings
Shadow th'atchieuments of two royall Kings:
That their propitious Fates enstil'd may be,
As Faiths-Defendors, so true heires to thee!
O may those auncient monuments of Time,
Stucke on their predecessors Hearses, shine
More now then euer, that 'ith age to come
The Father may relate vnto his Sonne
What conquests and what glory hath beene got,
And such renowne as they expected not!

Shine out faire Lampe of honour, and giue way,
It's not the morne, but euening Crownes the day;
May peacefull morning, and victorious Euen,
Blesse them on earth, eternize them in Heauen.
Nor can I doubt in such apparant sweetes
Of reall Goodnesse, where perfection meetes,
And makes a well-tun'd Concord, but the earth
Will glorie much to haue so great a birth
Planted within her Bosome: For the blisse
Of earths inhabitants, consists in this,
When Princes gouerne with religious eye,
And Iustice lodgeth in a Monarchie.
There's no complaint, but with harmonious sound,
(Like heauenly dwellers) they make blest the ground
Where they inhabit: there vnited peace
Makes their Barnes ful, giues to their flockes encrease.
There sacred Temples are erect'd on high,
And praises sung to heauens pure Maiestie:
There's no repining at an-others weale,
All like Sareptahs Widdow haue their meale
Renew'd, and re-encreas'd, which still we see,
Succeedes to such giues Hospitalitie.
For vertues haue their Guerdon, and appeare
Bright in heauens eye, to such as soiourne here.
O happie then where Maiestie doth shine,
If vertues keepe a Tune, or keepe a time:
There's a terrestriall Hierarchie, which doth show
Faire in such men, as doe such vertues owe!
In thee (Rich Mirrour) I haue heard and sen,
What merits admiration in meane men,
Much more in Princes, nor can I expresse
Imagination freely: yet I guesse

By what I haue seene, and obseru'd in thee,
“Vertue's enthroned in thy Maiestie.
How much more priz'd is honour, when her Name
And Nature both concurreth with the same?
Then honour is no shrowd, but has her birth,
From her owne selfe, producing her owne worth
From her owne proper merits: like is showne
In thy Great-selfe, that sits not in a Throne
As though thou had'st nought els to Grace thee with,
For I see Iustice planted vnderneath
Thy royall Throne, implying, that seate's weake
Where Iustice has her residence to seeke.
Renowned Prince, whose Eminence of State,
Hath beene by others much maligned at,
Wise Columne, for true wisedome is the stay
That reares deiected states: how much haue they
Beene frustrate of their hopes? where thy great spirit
(For neuer any Prince did more inherit
Of natiue Resolution) was addrest
To actions of most hazard, and exprest
Thy Countries glory, when encircled round,
Thou made the ayre thy Triton to resound
Honors atchieuements? so as none before,
That ere I heard, spake lesse, and yet did more.
How valour represented in the height,
Of towring Maiestie beames out her light
In mid'st of darkenesse? Like a Diamond
Set in some duskie shrine, which cheares the round
Where it's enshrin'd, with a reflecting ray,
Making the cloudiest night as cleare as day.
O Fortitude, by Heroes made diuine,
A vertue Royall, louely masculine.

Thou wilt not prey vpon a prostrate Foe,
Nor triumph ore the weake, nor canst thou so
Degenerate from worth, as where thou art,
To make thy speech a Recreant to thy heart.
Fame is thy Herald, and in glorious measures
Compos'd to honor thee, swoopes vp full treasures
Into thy lapp: rearing such Trophies too,
As Craven-spirits nere had Fate to show.
Here stand Alcydes Columnes, to expresse
His more then man vnto posterities,
To be recorded: Here stands memorie,
(Vallours best Register) addrest to see
And heare what merits honour (which once heard)
She'l not depriue her of her iust reward
How great's the diff'rence 'twixt such men as these
And Carpet Knights, who onely liue at ease;
Prest for a Ladies combat? this we see
Instanc'd in Ninus and's posteritie,
The Father royall first, enlarg'd his State,
Extend'd his Frontiers, was admired at;
Builded that glorious Cittie Niniveh,
Laying foundation for his memorie.
His sonne in Forme a man, in action no man,
A purple-spinner, and Copes-mate for woman.
But to thy selfe (Great Prince) for vnto thee
Directs my Muse her flight: long may thou be
Redowbted (as thou art): so where thou goes
Thy Name may be a Terror to thy foes;
Thy vertues, Adamantine linckes, to draw
And drawne, to keepe thy people in an awe,
Not seruile, but affectionate; that Time
May adde more Trophies to that worth of thine,

Then yet thou art possest of: and it is
The best (Inferiors can doe) to wish
Successiue dayes, continuance of Friends,
Renowned liues, and Time-eternis'd ends:
To those we are oblig'd to: and to thee
Much are we tyed, accepting Poesie,
With such a gracefull aspect, as thy breath,
Infuseth life in vs, when meager death
Seem'd to surprise vs: should we then forget
The best revivour of our vncheer'd wit,
The Mirrour of affected Clemencie?
O no, for then vngratefull we should be,
And make our workes contemptuous to such men
As haue vouchsaf'd some time to harbour them:
Indeed, if labours could a promise giue,
To such as patronize them, ere to liue
With fames light-sayles displayed, I know we might
Haue far more Patrons, then haue workes to write:
But what can Hyble promise that is there,
Worthie th'attention of a Princes eare;
Some scattred spraies perchance, which cropt might be.
From Adons Garden, or Apolloes tree.
Some sweetened dropps drawne from that sacred spring
Where all the warbling Nine were wont to sing.
For neuer Garden yet was halfe so sweete,
As where Apollo, and the Muses meete.
Yet what are these? And what are we that write,
Since Kings be choice & must haue choice delight,
To cheare their pure affections? It is true;
Albyons Pernassus has but little new,
Or store of pure varieties: yet there be
Some that haue sung in th'Eare of Maiestie;

And with acceptance (though with homely straine)
Which is the cause that now they sing againe.
Nor doth the tune, but tenure of the minde
Make the best Concord: Which if Princes finde,
They cherish it, to make the Consort more,
(For so the royall'st Princes did before)
And to continue what the Auncients did,
Our Moderne ages haue authorized
What they confirm'd: nor can we glorie lesse,
Sith we haue such that can as well expresse,
Their Countries Fame, the honour of their King,
As well in loftie straines, as Sonnetting,
As euer former Bards, and with lesse toyle,
For our's more free, their's was a forced soyle.
And what esteeme haue Authors of this kind
Beene amongst Potentst Monarchs, we shall finde
In tymes best Mirrour, auncient Historie,
Where they reserue dew wreaths for Poesie.
The worlds great Viceroy slept not as we reade,
Without the workes of Homer vnder's head;
Augustus lou'd his Maro, Martiall
Had a Domitian, and tart Iuuenall
No worse Protectour, aged Sophocles,
Sweet-breathing Hesiod, graue Euripides
Passion-affecting Æschylus, all these
Had places to retire to, and could please
With smooth, quicke, pithie, various passionate,
Choice, natiue, modest, and elaborate,
Passions, affections, measures, and delights
For men, maids, Matrons, loue-admiring Knights,
Campe-royall planters, where no act did passe,
Which they engraued out in leaues of Brasse.

Their monumentall Tablets: these were they
That could distinguish 'twixt the chearefull day
Of Resolution, where's true vertues light,
And recreant spirits clouded with the Night.
Of a depressed minde: nought could be done
Vnder heauens glorious Cresset, but was showne
By an impartiall pen, and did remaine
For after Ages to looke ore againe
And were not these workes for a Princely eare
To descant on: when vertue did appeare
In naked feature, and exprest her Name
To be in Nature and in essence same
What she was moulded for? And she it is
That neuer had another Mott but this.
If spotlesse Reputation be away,
Men are but guilded lime, or painted clay.
And what Apelles euer could portray,
Any pure substance, or so well display
The perfect forme of being, as this Art,
Or diuine Influence, can describe each part
Of honours faire proportion; this is she
That giues a liuing soule to Maiestie,
Records the acts of Princes, and sets downe,
What's worth record frō th'plow-share to the Crowne.
Renewing life in death, for by her breath,
Selfe-same may liue, that is surpriz'd by death:
Making his actions breathing: nor can tyme
Impose a period to an Art diuine;
For it's transparant in obscuritie,
Cleare in the silent shade, and loues to be,
As vertue is in Action: this being true,
What can we doe, but giue this Art her due,

More to her Grace, but as she's Princely bred,
So by a Prince to haue her sheltered.
It will erect her spirits, cheare her wings,
And make her perch euen on the crest of Kings:
Admiring her owne Beautie: and who can
Amongst a world of Princes, finde a man
Who might her Patronage better beseeme,
Then thou great Prince, brother to Albyons

This Pænegyrick Poem was writ during the life of our late Queene, whose Princely vertues (like precious odours) will euer preserue her sacred Memory.

Queene,
Whose ripened iudgement aimes at some great end,
In reading nought, but it does apprehend.
And what more precious ornament can be
Worne by a Prince, then such a Theorie?
But 'las how weake's my Muse to set thee forth,
That beares within thy selfe the markes of worth,
As Honors natiue Characters? And best
Is Honour showne, when grauen on the brest
Of the possessour? Like adorns thy heart,
For speaking thee, who knows not what thou art?
O may it be (I pray) the supreame will
Of heauen, to adde more glory to thee still,
That each succeeding day may giue encrease
To a succeeding honour: may sweete peace
Smile on thy fruitfull Empire, and extend,
Her large Commission to the worlds end.
So shall Minerua flourish, and make great
The faire foundation of thy Royall seate.
Meane time (Victorious Prince) gaine the renowme,
And in thy Christian Title, ouer-come.

FINIS.