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Iter boreale

With large additions of several other poems: being an exact collection of all hitherto extant. Never before published together. The author R. Wild
Wild, Robert (1609-1679)

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Iter Boreale.
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THE TRAGEDY OF Mr. Christopher Love, Late Minister of the Gospel;
  
UPON The much to be Lamented DEATH OF THE Reverend Mr. Vines.
  
TO THE MEMORY OF Mr. Jeremy Whitaker,
  
On his Preaching.
  
UPON THE DEATH OF So many Reverend Ministers of late.
  
AN ELOGY UPON THE Earl of Essex HIS FUNERAL.
  
To the Father of a very vertuous Virgin, Deceased; who desired an obscure Person to make an Elegy, &c.
  
IN MEMORY Of Mris E. T.
  
AN EPITAPH Upon E. T.
  
UPON The Learned Works of the Reverend DIVINE Ed. Reynolds, D. D.
  
Another.
  
Aliud.
  
AN EPITAPH For a Godly Mans Tomb.
  
AN EPITAPH For a Wicked Mans Tomb.
  
[From a kind Hand there came t' enrich a place]
  
Alas poor Scholar, VVhither wilt thou go?
  
THE Norfolk and Wisbich.
  
UPON THE DEATH OF Dennis Bond, Esq;
  
Upon some Bottles of Sack and Claret, laid in Sand, and covered with a Sheet.
  
AN ESSAY Upon the late VICTORY obtained by His Royal Highness the Duke of York,
  
To the KING.
  
THE GRATEFUL NON-CONFORMIST:
  
A POEM UPON THE Imprisonment OF MR. CALAMY In NEWGATE.
  
ON THE DEATH OF MR. CALAMY,
  
The EPITAPH.
  
THE Loyal-Nonconformist;
  
THE RECANTATION Of A Penitent Proteus;
  
THE PORING DOCTOR,
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THE FAIR QUARREL.
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Mr. Nathan Wanley to Dr. Wild, who was laid aside for Nonconformity.
  
Dr. Wild to the Ingenious Mr. Wanley.
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Mr. Wanley to Dr. Wild.
  
Dr. Wild to Mr. Wanley.

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To the KING.

Great Sir, Belov'd of God and Man, admit
My Loyal zeal to run before my Wit.
This is my Pens miscarriage, not a Birth;
Her haste hath made her bring blind Puppies forth,
My aims in this attempt, are to provoke,
And kindle flames more Noble by my smoak;
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My wisp of straw may set great Wood on Fire,
And my weak Breath Your Organs may inspire.
Amongst those Flags y'have taken from the Dutch,
Command your Denham to hang up his Crutch,
He is a man both of his Hands and Feet,
And with great numbers can your Navy meet,
His quicker Eye Your Conquest can survey;
His Hand, York's Temples Crown with flourishing Bay
Waller (great Poet and true Prophet too)
Whose curious Pencil in Rich Colours drew
The Type of this grand Triumph for your view,
(The Fishers (like their Herrings) bleeding new)
With the same hand shal give the World the Sights
Of what it must expect when England Fights.
That Son and Heir of Pindars Muse and Fame,
Your modest Cowley, with Your breath will flame,
And make those Belgick Beasts, who live aspire
To fall your Sacrifice in his pure Fire.
He shall proclaim Our JAMES great Neptune's Wonder,
And, like a Jove, Fighting in Clouds and Thunder.
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