The vote, or A poeme royall, presented to His Maiestie for a new-yeares-gift. By way of discourse 'twixt the poet, and his muse. Calendis Ianuariis 1642. Howell, James, 1594?-1666. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A86640 of text R212574 in the English Short Title Catalog (Thomason E238_7). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 15 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 8 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A86640 Wing H3128 Thomason E238_7 ESTC R212574 99871178 99871178 158225 This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission. Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A86640) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 158225) Images scanned from microfilm: (Thomason Tracts ; 41:E238[7]) The vote, or A poeme royall, presented to His Maiestie for a new-yeares-gift. By way of discourse 'twixt the poet, and his muse. Calendis Ianuariis 1642. Howell, James, 1594?-1666. [2], 11, [1] p. Printed by Thomas Badger, London, : 1642. Signed on p. 11: Iames Howell. An imprint variant of the edition with Humphrey Mosley given as publisher in imprint. Annotation on Thomason copy: "By James Howell". Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng Charles -- I, -- King of England, 1600-1649 -- Poetry -- Early works to 1800. A86640 R212574 (Thomason E238_7). civilwar no The vote, or A poeme royall,: presented to His Maiestie for a new-yeares-gift. By way of discourse 'twixt the poet, and his muse. Calendis Howell, James 1642 2249 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2007-04 TCP Assigned for keying and markup 2007-04 Aptara Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2007-05 Pip Willcox Sampled and proofread 2007-05 Pip Willcox Text and markup reviewed and edited 2008-02 pfs Batch review (QC) and XML conversion THE VOTE , OR A POEME ROYALL , PRESENTED TO HIS MAIESTIE for a New-yeares-Gift . By way of Discourse 'twixt the Poet , and his Muse . Calendis Januariis 1642. London , Printed by Thomas Badger , 1642. POEMA Στρηνετικον . THe world 's bright Eye , Times measurer , begun Through watry Capricorne his course to run , Old Ianus hastned on , his temples bovnd With Ivy , his gray haires with hollie crownd ; When in a serious quest , my thoughts did muse , What Gift , as best becomming , I should chuse , To Britaines Monarch ( my dread Soveraigne ) bring Which might supply a New-yeares offering . I rummag'd all my stores , and search'd my cells Where nought appear'd , god wot , but bagatells : No farre fetch'd Indian gemme , cut out of rock , Or fishd in shels were trusted under lock , No peece which Angelo's strong fancy hitt , Or Titians pensil , or rare Hyliards witt , No Ermines , or black-sables , no such Skinnes , As the grim Tartar hunts , or takes in ginnes : No Medails , or rich stuff of Tyrian dye , No costly Boules of frosted argentry , No curious Land-skip , or some Marble peece Dig'd up in Delphos , or else-where in Greece , No Roman Perfumes , Buffs , or Cordouans Made drunk with Ambar by Moreno's hands , No arras , or rich carpets freighted o're The surging Seas from Asia's doubtfull shore , No Lions cub , or beast of strange aspect , Which in Numidia's fiery womb had slept , No old Toledo blades , or Damaskins , No Pistols , or some rare-spring'd Carrabins , No Spanish Ginet , or choyce stallion sent , From Naples , or hot Afrique's continent , In fine , I nothing found , I could descry Worthy the hands of Caesar or his eye . My wits were at a stand , when , loe , my Muse ( None of the Quire , but such as they do use For laundresses or handmaids of meane rank I knew sometimes on Po and Isis banks ) Did softly buzz . Muse . Then let me something bring , My hansell the New-yeare to CHARLES my King , May usher in bifronted Ianus — Poet . Thou fond foole-hardy Muse , thou silly Thing , Which 'mongst the shrubbs & reeds do'st use to sing , Dar'st thou peck up , and the tall Cedar clime , And venture on a King with gingling rime ? Though all thy words were perle , thy letters gold , And cut in rubies , or cast in a mould Of diamonds , yet still thy lines would be To meane a gift for such a Majestie . Muse . I 'le try ; and hope to passe without disdaine In New-yeares-gifts the mind stands for the maine , The Sophy , finding 't was well meant , did daigne Few dropps of running water from a swayne , Then sure 't will please my Liege , if I him bring , Some gentle dropps from the Castalian spring . Though Rarities I want of such account , Yet have I something on the forked mount . Nor i' st the first , or third accesse I made To Caesar's feet , and thence departed glad . For as the Sun with his male heat doth render Nile's muddy slime fruitfull , and apt t' engender , And dayly to produce newe kinds of creatures Of various shapes , and thousand differing features , So is my fancy quickned by the glance Of His benigne aspect and countenance , It makes me pregnant , and to superfaete , Such is the vigor of His beames and heate . Once in a Vocall Forest I did sing , And made the Oke to stand for CHARLES my King , The best of trees , whereof ( it is no vant The greatest Schooles of Europe ring and chant ) There you shall also find Dame ARHETINE , Great Henries daughter , and Great Britaines Queene , Her name engraven in a Laurell tree , And so transmitted to Eternity . For now I heare that Grove speake's besides mine , The language of the Loire , the Po , and Rhyne , ( And to my Prince ( my sweet Black Prince ) of late , I did a youthfull subject dedicate . ) Nor do I doubt but that in time , my Trees Will yeeld me fruit to pay Apollo's fees , To offer up whole Hecatombes of praise To Caesar , if on me he cast his rayes . And if my lamp have oyle , I may compile The moderne Annals of great Albion's Isle , To vindicat the truth of CHARLES his raigne , From scribling Pamphletors , who story staine With loose imperfect passages , and thrust Lame things upon the world , t'ane up in trust . I have had Audience ( in another straine ) Of Europes greatest Kings , when German maine And the Cantabrian waves I crossd , I drank Of Tagus , Seine , and sate at Tybers bank , Through Scylla & Charybdis I have steerd , Where restlesse AEtna , belching flames , appeerd , By Greece , once Palla's garden , then I pass't , Now all ore spread with Ignorance and wast . Nor hath faire Europe her vast bounds throughout An Academe of note I found not out . But now I hope in a successefull prore , The Fates have fix'd me on sweet Englands shore , And by these various wandrings true I found , Earth is the common Mother , every ground May be one's Countrey , for by birth each man Is in this VVorld a Cosmopolitan A free-borne Burgesse , and receives thereby His denization from Nativity : Nor is this VVorld , at best , but a huge Inn , And men the rambling passengers , wherin Some warm lodgings find , & that as soone As out of Nature's closets they see no one , And find the table ready layd ; but some Must for their commons trudg , and shift for roome : VVith easie pace some clime Promotions Hill , Some in the Dale , do what they can , stick still . Some through false glasses smiling Fortune spy , VVho still keeps off , though she appeares hard by : Some like the Ostrich , with their wings do flutter , But cannot fly , or soare above the gutter , Some quickly fetch and double Good-Hopes Cape , Some ne're can do'tthough the same cours they shape : So that poore mortals are so many balls Tossd , some o're line , some under Fortune's walls . And it is Heavens high pleasure Man should lye Obnoxious to this partiality , That by Industrious ways he should contend , Nature's short pittance to improve and mend . And Industry ne're fail'd , at last , t' advance Her patient sonnes above the reach of Chance . Poet . But whither rov'st thou thus ? Well ; since I see thou art so strongly bent , And of a gracious looke so confident , Go , and throw down thy selfe at Caesars feet , And in thy best attire thy Soveraigne greet , Go , An auspicious and most blissefull year , Wish Him , as e're shin'd o're this Hemispheare , Good may the Entrance , better the middle be , And the Conclusion best of all the three , Of joy ungrudg'd may each day be a debter , And evry morne still usher in a better , May the soft gliding Nones and evry Ide , With all the Calends stil some good betide , May Cynthia with kind looks , & Phoebus's rayes , One cleere his Nights , the other guild his dayes . Free limbs , unphysick'd health , due appetite , Which no sauce else but Hunger may excite , Sound sleepes , and sanguine dreames , which represent , Symptomes of health , and the next dayes content ; Cheerfull and vacant thoughts , not always bound To Counsell , or in deep Ideas drown'd : ( Though such late traverses and tumults might Turne to a lump of care the ayriest wight ) And since , while fragile flesh doth us array The humors still are combating for sway , ( Which were they free of this reluctancy And counterpoys'd Man would immortall be ) May sanguine ore the rest predominat In Him , and their malignant flux abate . May his great Queen ( in whose Imperious eye Raigne's such a world of winning Majesty ) Like the rich Olive , or Falernian Vine , Swell with more gemms of Cions masculine ; And as Her fruit sprung from the Rose and Luce , ( The best of stemmes Earth yet did e're produce ) Is tyed already by a Sanguine lace To all the Kings of Europe's highborne race , So may they shoot , their youthfull branches o're , The surging seas , and graffe with evry shore . May home-Comerce , and Trade encrease from farre , That both the Indies meet within his barres , And bring in Mounts of Coyne His mint's to feed , And Banquers ( Trafique's chiefe supporters ) breed , Which may enrich his Kingdomes , Court and Towne , And ballast still the Coffers of the the Crowne , For Kingdoms are as ships , the Prince his chests The ballast , which if empty , when distress't VVith stormes , their holds are lightly trimm'd , the keele Can run no steedy cours , but tosse and reele . May his Imperiall Chamber alwayes ply To his desires , her wealth to multiply , That she may prize his royall favour more Than al the wares fetch'd frō the great Mogor , May the Great Senat with the subjects right Put in the Counter-scale , the Regall might The flowrs of th'Crown , that they may propp each other , And like the Grecian's twin live , love together . For the chief glory of a people is The power of their King , as Their is His . May He be still within him selfe at home , That no just passion make the reason rome , Yet Passions have their turnes , to rouse the Soule , And Stirre her slumbring Spirits not controule , For as the Ocean besides ebb and flood , ( VVhich Nature 's greatest Clerk ner'e understood ) Is not for sayle , if an impregning wind Fills not the flagging canvas , so a mind Too calme , is not for Action , if desire Heat's not it selfe at passion's quickning fire , For Nature is allow'd sometimes to muster Her passions , so they only blow , not bluster . May Iustice still in her true scales appeare , And Honor fix'd in no unworthy spheare , Unto whose palace all accesse should have Through vertues Temple , not through Plutos Cave . May his true subjects hearts be his chiefe Fort , Their purse his treasure , and their Love his Port Their prayers , as sweet Incense , to draw downe Myriads of blessings on his Queene and Crowne . And now that his glad presence , did asswage , That fearefull tempest in the North did rage , May those frogg-vapours in the Irish skie , Be scatter'd by the beames of Majesty , That the Hibernian lyre give such a sound , May on our coasts with joyfull Ecchos bound . And when this fatall planet leaves to lowre , VVhich to to long on Monarchies doth powre His direfull influence , may Peace once more Descend from Heaven on our tottering shore , And ride in triumph both on land and maine , And with her milke-white steedes draw Charles his waine , That so for those Saturnian times of old , An age of Pearle may come in lieu of Gold . Be all his thoughts borne perfect , and his hopes , In their events fall out beyond their scopes , Vertue still guide his course , and if there be A thing as Fortune Him accompanie . May no ill Genius haunt him , but by 's side , The best protecting Angell ever bide . May He go on to vindicate the right Of holy things , and make the Temple bright , To keep that Faith , that Sacred Truth entire Which He receiv'd from Salomon his sire . And since we all must hence , by th'Iron Decree , Stamp'd 'mongst the black Records of Destinie , Late may his life , his Glory ne're weare out , Till the great yeare of Plato wheele about . So prayeth The worst of Poets , to The best of Princes , yet The most loyall of His Votaries and Vassalls , Iames Howell . a Arthetine , id est , Vertuous . Anagram of Henrieta . b The Parlament . c Hippocrates . d King Iames .