University of Virginia Library

DREAMS.

The first Dream.

Went I this Morn in cruel sport
To fright the poor Hare from her fort?
Vp-rouze her from the solemn Cel
With horrors of a Fun'ral-Knel?
Did Tyrant-I seek others prize?
My self now made the Sacrifice?
Fates, you are equal, and thou Love,
Like mercy I [just Talio] prove
As meant to others; Torture, Pain,
Dire scourge! tis my reward again.
'Twas she the Huntresse was, by th'way,
That ayr'd her so, like beauteous May,
(Her Mistris rather) round bestowing
Such Beauties sweets; dull winter shewing
Fresh-cheek'd turnd Sommer. O, what raies
Then strook our eyes? what wonders blaze
Sweetst, Lightnings? what Soule rapes, divine
Confusions? that th'ore flowing shine
Spak't Heavenly Vision: if Earths race,
Then Woman, lovelyst woman 'twas;
Or rare I know not-What: she's All
Men excellence perfection call
Her Eyes shot day-light Beam-supplyes,
While th'Sun cloud-muffled seemd; close lyes
Asham'd on's gaudier blazing so,
Those Corpo-rayes to hers in shew;
Or't may be Love-dart feard, least he
By th'jealous Morn forsaken be;
Or, indeed struck, with amorous head
Jogd on, and so went sick to Bed:
The World not needing beg th'old Sun
Since they in her have two for one.
No Christal frost-work deckt the ground
T'intice her foot, whose Beamings round
That Morn disperst, perhaps ore-awd
The glaz'd Earth, Congelations thawd:
Her Pace Court-measure, graceful'st showd
While th'spic't ayr through her breath more good,
Purgd wholsom seemd: as Goblins light,
Fogs shun her Puerity, take flight.
Ten thausand Cupids came along
Playing in her Eyes, her cheeks, or hung
O'th Brest, Lips, Hayr; incamp'd appear
In Bright and lovely'st Musters there;
As with their quiverd Hoast would pierce
All Hearts, and conquer th'Vniverse:
A moving world of wonder shewing;
A Heaven of flesh all Joyes bestowing.
Twas fairely-sweetly-cruel she
That chas'd and seiz'd my liberty:
That let a Mint of lightnings fly
Heap of Granadoes from her Eye,
Dart-magazine that shot through mine;
I saw their flaming point to shine
All th'way they came, when through tht Eye
Th'Heart bled in kindest simpathy:
I Sigh, Fear, Muse; what wonders press
Through these glaz'd Organs, Souls possess!

On Phillis Close Nun-like Retirement.

Say beauteous Fillis why's so long
Adjournd our Day-break till all's stung
With Greenland-curse? O why (Mole-fashion)
Pore we on Clods, this dull Creation
Thou our Gem hid? with whom's inshrind,
The longings, blisses of Mankind:
Is't for our sins, that righteous Heaven
Hath us this Plague 'mongst others Given.
This Judgment sent (alas) that we
Must lose thy Presence, and want Thee?
Or did we too prophanely slight
That blessing, meanly rate thy Sight
Enjoyd? when thou (more justly-nice)
By want dost please t'inhanceyth Price:
An angry absence must alone
Make theemore reverenc't, and moreknown.
Or last; was't Charity divine
T'our errors, fraylties, did confine
Thee to thy Chamber, Prayers t'implore
And attone for us? O restore
That Face back, fayr Example t'us;
We shall grow good, less criminous.
Rare Beauties were not made at all
For cloystring, and live-burial,
Though Bats, Owls be: those glorious Seven
The unwasted Lamps of Earth and Heaven.
(Sky-brooches) lo, they were not thrust
To corners, log'd in Rubbish, dust,
But shine to th'world, and traverse by
Sphears blazing Pageants: whilst hid lye
(Earth-chested) Gold, Gems, wher's their glory:
Sight's all; that magnifies thy story.
Sometime tis wholsom, purest Maid,
To ayr thee through the field and shade;
When from some Hill fayr-map'd does ly
Small Europe, travailed by thine Eye:
And th'amazd People gazing round,
As though another Morn were found.
For as through sight thou Physick'st us:
And our dross-spirits refinest thus
To suttle Fire this Earth Ayr grown,
Pure Quintessentiall: whilst (anon)
The Bloods too revel't in each Veine
So thou dost Physick thy Selfe again.
Mays Sovereign, delicious ayr,
Twil make that Cheek more snowy-fayr
(If possible,) those Brests of spice
Thus fan'd more, Beds of Paradice:
Twill make that Angell-shape to strike
Our eyes with motion Angel-like,
Quick, sprightly; improve that daynti'st Frame
So lively, as if all Soul became:
Then shew thee oft deare Cordial; thus
Thou physickst both thy self and us.

Phillis Nun-like Coyness.

PHILLIS, Fayrest, why so coy
So daynty-nice? when but t'enjoy
One favour such a task doth prove,
Herculean Labour: tell me Love;
What though that daintier Hand touch mine,
(Of spotless Allablaster-shine)
Would't shew less fayr, and sulli'd be?
Or lose the fashion, if by me
But kindly prest? though never I
Their sacred white do come so nigh
But with washt hands, nor touch their Down
But reverentiall fear does crown
The Devout Palm: your Glove all day
May freelier touch; your Seizers may,
Silk, needle, lawn, nay, meaner thred:
Then is my Hand more vile indeed
Then these? or say, you purify
Those things by Touch, like Chimistry
May these course hands sublime, refine.
Or say those dayntier Lips touch mine,
Are they impoverisht in their store?
Or wast their Delicates the more
By often giving [since they are
A lasting sweetness] or less fair,
Ought lose their colour Ruby excelling?
The more they'r kiss'd, more red and swelling.
The wanton ayre with hovering play
May touch them, and the tawny Ray
Of Phœbus Toys, which often please;
Then are my lips more base then these?
The Fly may buzzing kiss, and touch
[Unblam'd] those Cherries; min's hut such.
'Las, can you chide and frown when I
[Nye starv'd] do beg the Charity
Th'Alms of one kiss? twas never yet
Held sin for Starvelings to crave meat;
That's free: would you not life bestow
Where your self nere the poorer grow?
Nay sweetest, wer't love-relish'd, this,
You would seem richer by a kiss:
Love's first-course, second Min age tis.

The second Dream.

Twas Fresh-cheek'd May with all her pride
And Progress bravery beautifi'd;
Her musk, perfumes, and Gems of price,
To take that sexe more daynty, nice,
When th'Chaos-World (late sullen) now
Turnd laughing all, stampd one whose brow
Fine new Creation: when froz'd Men
(Not snayls alone) seem'd Live agen:
Forth went the Nimph, whose eyes fayr ray
Had January turnd to May,
And spruc't the poor-clad earth howere
With Flowrs, though Flora banished the yeare:
Forth Phillis tript; whilst I alone
Ingross'd the blessing, th'honour won
T'attend her Walks chief Favourit,
Sole Guardian to my Souls delight:
Cal'd by her as if Heaven had cal'd
To Joyes, wherein blest Saints instal'd,
(Who would not glory?) Champion thence
To weak, yet purest Innocence:
For well my PHILLIS knew that I
Would not hurt, but protecting dye;
And (though, Temptation all, her shape)
Would punish, not commit a Rape.
Thus, though no morning-star am borne,
Yet was I Vsher to the Morn;
Or rather Sun-companion shew,
Whose hand inrich'd mine with its snow.
Naught envying now Great Turk; Mogor,
Tartarian China-bugbear or
Black Southern Prince; thus septer'd I
Durst boast a fayrer Monarchy.
Each Object as we tract below,
With rival-courtship seemd to wo
My Heavenly Fair; and bred in me
A kind of sportive Jealousie:
Birds chant love-songs, Gales whisper soft
Kind tales, steal kisses, whilst (methought)
Herbs, Flowers hung their love-sick heads,
Or bowd with reverence from their beds;
Hills animated seem'd rejoyce;
And (wanton) Eccho back her Voice:
O pregnant Son! say, what does prove
So all breeding as that Womb of Love?
Here, whilst I sacrific'd chast Vows,
Sigh-Incence, (made unspotted those
Blest Hands the Alters)t'either eare
Thus PHILLIS breath'd; O, breath'd sounds
Seraphick Musick! (words be gone
That poor Term) Thus she seemd to own—
Hold Fondling, don't expose abroad
Such sweetness to th'Ayrs common Road;
Be wise: th'Harmonious touch oth'Sphears
Not Musick is the Vulgar ears:
Repeat the Blisses to thine own;
Tell Venus, or Loves-self alone:
And feed you Lickerish eares, (reviv'd
Your dear Joyes,) Fancy makes new-liv'd:
Whilst Cupid scores up all, each word
(Th'Hour, Minute) in's chast Loves Record.

PHILLIS her Lute.

Sight, Smelling, Tasting, Feeling, all be gone;
And leave with me th'officious Eare alone:
Go Slumber, (or th'whole Covent) loytrers play;
Thou only attend (Souls Favourite) this way:
Bless, bless thy self and me, till seem translated
To new divine Joyes, by that Hand-Created.
List, list with reverence; devoutly O
Hearken; th'Orbs Minstrelsy's sham'd here below:
While PHILLIS gives Life to her sencless Lute,
And warbling language to what late was mute.
Heark, what delicious strains and Heavenly-rare
Do as twer sweeten, and inrich the Ayr!
Phebean Harps Great Master finds his skill
Scornd by th'Olimpicks, and but slighted still
When thou once playest; all listening unto thee;
T'whom mean hands like to Winds rude blustrings be,
Or th'note of bubling Brooks: All Musick is
Untun'd harsh Discord, and but noyse to This.
Away all dumpish cares, all pulling sorrow,
[You Cloud-drove] fly my vvorld, pack til the morrovv;
Let me forget I'm Earth, or burdened am
VVith dross of flesh, but t'Elemental flame
Seem rarifi'd turn'd Spirits (air does shevv
Poor, languid) dance my blood; your veins oreflovv
In glad tides; vvhilst those highst Soul-faculties
Frame all a Masque: that Lute Soul-revels please.
O, there's a svveetly, svveetly-solemn strain
Has laid all in a slumbering trance again.
And charmd all to amazement; view but round
How strange a Metamorphosis theres found;
Men stand by th'Walls, and furnish out the Room
Like Arras-pictures, or as to some Tomb
Belong'd for Monuments; whilst only flyes
A glimpse of Life or Twilight from their Eyes:
All's turnd a Sepulcher, so whist and dead
A silence raigns; the sweet death welcomed:
O, let me thus expire and melt away
To dissolution, Nature that Debt pay
of Vapour-breath, that else a boyling Feaver,
Stone, Poyson, sturdy Gout, or stab might sever:
Sweet-killing PHILLIS, thus the soul to stray
To Heaven 'twete t'have Heaven by the way:
Such death were but to live; the Gasps to this
Ore-ravishing Delights, too powerful bliss:
And then I dye a Martyr by thy hand
Though not in wrath, but [spight of countermand]
As fleeting souls last Farwel I must kiss
That beauteous Hand, first Fool! Alls spoild by this.

PHILLIS Hand and Glove.

Fair Phillis, my ambitious Muse
Through its aspiring zeal we'd choose
Rather to charm thy hand then Glove,
Court that Diviner form, my Love;
T'whom Snow with th'Alablaster mine
Great Style of Whiteness only assign:
Where azure streams in purling measure
Make Cupids Isles and Place of pleasure.
But this eclipses vails their light,
And pleads Commission for't; worse spight;
Whilst [cas'd up] beauteous they appear
Like sacred-Twin-like Relicks there:
Worth 'bove all Romes; like cloysterd Nuns,
Or silver Orb involved Moons:
Not nak'd to each unworthy eye
Or the Suns bolder kisses lye,
[Sight fit'st for King] but then devest,
Break forth like Morns their dusky East,
When silk and gold as touch more fine;
Some Needle-Miracle design;
VVhere laid to th'eye small new Creation,
Birds, Beasts so near inanimation;
So true that Natures self does start;
Halfe mothering that meer Child of Art:
Mock'd by this Landskip, nye mistakes
For her own work th'Hills, Plants, and Lakes.
Sweet'st Recluse-payr! you meanlyer-choice
Beauties triumph it now, rejoyce;
Let coorser Hands now boldly shew,
Seek t'enamour with worse Snow.
Your Gloves kind pardon, if I seem
Transported here with whats their Gem,
Chief Riches, Glory; wherefore spight
Should not ore-long debar my sight:
Since I love these too, even in this
Fine, Prittyest, winning beauty is;
Both as it self, and as 'tis thine:
So dainty-shap'd, Symmetrick, fine,
Pure-white withal, that it might stand
A rude-drawn Picture to that hand:
VVherein (methinks) breath highest sweets
VVhose sublimation Juno fits:
This Pattern seems for the best of gloves
(As that for hands) like th'Queen of Leves.
O Cupid wouldst ordain that I
Under that form might hug so nigh
That loved Hand; [miraculous feat!]
But ah, I fear my Youthful Heat,
Sighs soft-breath'd whispers, joyful Dance
Oth' panting-Heart, then colder Trance
With fervent raven us kisses, soon
Would blab the Cozenage; all undone:
When I'm cashir'd eternally:
Whereas that Favourit-Glove laid by
Recloaths that Beauty; exalted is
To its late Paradisian Bliss.

His third Dream of FILLIS Evening Walk and Voice.

Fillis and I (O, fondly'st-kind,
Indulgent Stars! thus still you bind;)
Fillis and I in Evening fair
Stole forth to take the Garden-air;
That sweet'st and mildest age of Day,
When Sun does sprinkle a kinder Ray;
Nor begets head-ach, whilst Goodnight
Sends from Far-West with drowsie light
The Morn, That, plac'd like pauses sweet
Tween th'Aguish fits of Cold and Heat.
Those harmless Gales were only straying
Which dance the leaves with nicer playing,
Nor whisper, whilst with kind of bliss
Mays Flowry beauteous strangers kiss
In sign of welcom: toyling oft
With Fillis Curles; when us'd (methought)
Reverence too, least through its sin
One curle disturb'd, or spoyld had been.
Th'Ayrs Concave still'd to quiet rest
Like Fillis gentle Maiden-brest.
Who, mask'd and vail'd, (that else had soon
Travers'd a gloomy Thick design'd
With Love-maze Laborynth, where inshrin'd
Th'Worlds beauty appeard: twas ambush-plot
To bear the Nightingales small throat,
Highst, strong'd to boot; (that, prais to be
The Shades prime Songster, harmony)
With rest oth Noise, who begun,
As if to th'then departing Sun
Would chirp a merry shril Goodnight,
And so long sing as he gave Light:
Which heard (the fine mirth jollity)
To smiling, pleasure, by and by
Fillis puts in to th'warbling quire:
Fair Goddess lo, which seemd t'inspire
Those little creatures with their skill;
Who now chant Anthems t'her praise still:
The ruder Place seem'd Chaos-wise
Turnd to a new drest Paradice,
Earth-Heaven, so well that face and tongue
Might to sweet Cherubins belong.
Gods (wrapt with joy oth' creation)
T'affairs divine held strait Vacation,
Breaking Heavens Parliament asunder
To see, to hear this Mortal wonder,
(The air trac'd in measures) while cros-armd
Some sate, inamourd shewing, Love-charmd;
Consulting all her soon translation
From this base earth to th'starry station
As their Quires Mistris, while She-powrs
Or prais'd, or envi'd from their Towrs,
Wood-satyres skipping wildly round:
This masque at least my Fancy found.
Lo th'All of Rapture, sweets how high!
Best Joyes the ears capacity
Could reach to, onely those above,
The dear Soul-melting Sounds of Love.
Her Lute was rare though dead the sound,
This living therefore rarer erownd:
That, was but hollow Timbers noise,
This, sweet, warm, lovely Womans voice:
Religion swayd, else I had nigh
Been guilty of Voice-Idolatry.

FILLIS and the Nightingale.

Rare charming Voice! but [O] how rare
Breath'd by that She so only fair!
Whose face and bodies beauties be
Compos'd with so rare Symmetry
(Heavens choice design) so sweetly accorded,
One Heavenly Consort all afforded;
And were the Harmony o'th Eye,
Seem'd Natures silent Melody:
Nere man so doubly-blest; th'eye, ear!
Record it Love, twas only here.
Each trembling Noat those Corals wrought
(VVhen born) seem'd swaddled, wrapt methought,
And (as soon dying) Embalm'd within
So sweet breath, as perfum'd 't had been;
Came flying in a precious air
Of Odors, 'bove Arabian far:
The same sweet noats you would have deemd
The several souls of Musick seemd;
VVhilst the whole Song rare sweetst compound,
VVherein th'Ear's Sugar, Sytrop found.
O could I've caught and kept alive
Those precious sounds beyond reprive
Those Spirits of Sweetness as they flye,
So t'have had constant Melody;
Nay Phillis self still by me in those:
Her Breath, preserv'd and relick'd close
Had serv'd for soveraign protection
Gainst poys'nous Plagues, and all infection.
If that fam'd Harp, could Rivers cause
To stand at wanton gaze and pause;
Beasts, stubborn Rocks, and burly Trees,
Made dance in Antique Revels thess;
Her voice must greater Magick prove
And make them court her fall in Love.
VVhile Fillis breath'd and clos'd her song,
Behold a pritty vvonder sprung;
Th'ambitious Nightingale replyd,
Through pertest emulations pride;
[Chief Chorister I 'th feathered Court
To th'Royal Eagle fam'd] in sport
VVould sing her part, and nimbly runs
Her fine-poiz'd quaint Divisions:
Novv Fillis, then the Nightingale,
Novv she then she, vvhich should prevail:
The Chirper falls to earnest novv,
No more must jesting strains allovv:
Tis sober Duel, no idle play,
Sharp brest-concention for the day:
Till the poor Bird presumes still higher,
As life vvould forfeit and expire.
VVhich pittying, I vvas fain to intreat
Her softer heart vvould make retreat,
And end the dangerous strife so nigh
By yeelding a false Victory:
This quarrel must not the loss prove
Of such a voice to th'Spring and Grove:
Her Mercy rather should reprive
[Double honors Trophie] keep alive.
VVhen loth to stifle yet my blisses,
I silenc'd those svveet lips vvith Kisses:
Though but th'ears airy joyes transfer'd
To th'solid touch; so, sav'd the Bird.

His fourth Dream of Cressas Funeral, the Love of Difloris.

Is any Pastors care so deaf to Fame,
That has not heard of fairest Cressas name?
[So us'd to bleatings] whom that Funeral-knel.
Which groand this Nimph to earth, did hearts congeal.
Hath not arriv'd to? happy sure's that He
In this, since knows not th'common Misery;
Distres'd Arcadias loss [with whom does share
Nature, Grand Mourner] her beloved fair
Cloyster'd in dust: nor [without company]
Dy'd she alone, a hundred seemd to dye
In Sorrow with her: The Suns self was gone
Fast from her Funerals, and Night came on
To bring her Sables. O what new-rais'd Train
Of Goblins strook my sight? which rov'd the Plain
With such dire ceremony, ruful guize,
As each did his own Funeral solemnize.
Lo, Deaths March twas; First went young swains by pairs
Each crownd with mournful Cipress, Usherers
To th solemn Herse: Those four next to '[illeg.] that le[illeg.]
Bare Shieldes, where pictur'd on a cole-black bed
A pale dead Virgin lay, prepar'd as twere
To Bridals and which beauteous did appear
Even in death; by deaths black arms imbract;
And over, in white Characters was plac't,
This, this my Lover, this my Bridal: So
All pass'd along. But following th'Herse did go
A single Swain; how dismal-lookt slow-pac't.
Trust bulk of wretchedness, ore whose face cast
A meer Life-damp; seem'd Ghost to th'Corps before;
Sighs storm'd about him, whilst he drench'd their shore
His torrent eys; and thus would needs excel,
Surpass in grief: About his Hat mix'd wel
Forsaken Willow, Cipress; where above
This written, Deaths my Rival. Next does move
The Virgin-train in white, which Censers bear
Dark-vail'd like Dooms-day Planets: Torchlight there
[illeg.]orc't frightful Noon. And thus they softly trace
Dire measure! how unwilling!) to th sad place
Where they must leave their slumbring Nimph behind
T'enrich the Covetous Earth; which (half struck blind)
The Youth beheld, never spake Sorrow more
Then now in silence: different Passions store;
Here sighs, there tears, pale looks there, yet all one
Consort in Grief: This, general alone,
All look'd their utmost, til now lost the sight,
With whom their eyes seem'd as 'twere bury'd quite;
And (blind to upper things in earth beneath
Are following her, as if in spite of death
Would stil enjoy: with many a pitying muse,
The rude ore churlish mold should so abuse
That daintiest Body, which (though one more nice)
Las, now complain'd not; but death-tranced lyes.
What Maiden adiews; what tears! Swain kiss'd the Place;
All saying, Richer-gem'd Earth never was.

Epitaph.

[Here Chastity it self doth lye]

Here Chastity it self doth lye,
And Beautie's self; whom never eye
Nor tongue could tempt as yet love;
Till Death his violent dart did prove;
And (powerful'st) wou unto his Bed:
Though She was even then Ravished.

PHILLIS Complaint.

Why was I born,
Or not born blind?
Though thence the scorn
Of whol mankind,
Their Pity, or Wonder;
That so I'd Womans Shape nere known;
Or seeing, had I mist but one,
But Thine alone;
We only kept asunder:
O then kinde Heavens you had blest
A Soul of Anguish,
That's now condemn'd to sad unrest
And endlesly must languish.
Yet check my Heart, no more
These Plaints give ore:
Since thou hadst rather die, through her rejection
Then not have seen so rare perfection

On his retired Lady.