SELECTION 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 POETICAL WORKS 
 
 Cijomas Careta). 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME ; 
 
 Bif John Erans, Bristol Mercury Office f 
 
 AND SOLD BY 
 
 THOMAS FRY & CO. NO. 46, HIGH-STREET, BRISTOL. 
 
 1810.
 
 TO 
 
 SIR S. EGERTON BRYDGES, K. J. 
 
 THE RENOVATOR OF EARLY ENGLISH LITERATURE, 
 
 THIS SELECTION 
 
 FROM THE WORKS OF 
 
 CAREW, ^ 
 
 IS MOST RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED, 
 
 BY 
 
 THE EDITOR. 
 
 A S 
 
 646290
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The PubuC is h^re presented with a 
 selection from the Poetical Works of an 
 unjustly-neglected Author, and I shall 
 feel ample gratification in the conscious- 
 ness of reviving his memory, if what I 
 have done be instrumental to that effect. 
 
 To many readers, the notes appended 
 may appear prolix and unnecessary j I 
 can only observe, they appeared to me 
 not irrelative. One principal object in 
 gathering tliem was, to induce the Lover 
 of Poesy to give more attention to the 
 contemporaries of my Author. In our 
 enthusiastic admiration of " Fancy's
 
 VI 
 
 " sweetest children," SPENSER, Shak- 
 SPEARE, and the immortal MiLTON, we 
 seem to have forgotten the existence of 
 Drayton, Daniel, Browne, the two 
 Fletchers, Drummond, and Wither* 
 poets who, although not possessing the 
 power to engage the imagination so 
 strongly as the great triumvirate, are 
 still, to a high degree, sublime, pictu- 
 resque, and pathetic; and they must, 
 either from the present age or from 
 posterity, receive that regard to their 
 merits which has hitherto been denied 
 them, except by the " chosen few.''* 
 
 I now commit this volume to the 
 indulgent Critic, with an earnest hope, 
 
 * To these may be added, Habingtoii, Lovelace, 
 Herrick, and, in the department of the Drama, 
 Beaumont and Fletcher, Ben Jonson, Massinger, 
 Shirley, and Ford.
 
 Vll 
 
 that Carew may be at last restored to 
 that rank he ought long ago to have 
 possessed, and that Waller may be no 
 longer exclusively considered the Refiner 
 of English Poetry. 
 
 A learned Critic has long ago remarked, 
 that *' Carew opens the poetical age of 
 *' Charles I. with great lustre. He pre- 
 *' served the harmony of his verse, if not 
 *' the purity of his taste, untainted by 
 *' his metaphysical contemporaries. In. 
 *' point of versification, he is the link 
 *' which joins Spenser and Fairfax to 
 " Waller and Denham." British Critic, 
 vol. xix. p. 621. 
 
 To conclude, I devoutly wish the 
 
 reader may receive as much pleasure in 
 
 perusing, as I have in editing, this 
 
 Selection. 
 
 JOHN FRY. 
 
 Bristol, January 1810.
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF 
 
 THOMAS CARFJV. 
 
 'iv 
 
 - The trite observation, that the Life of a Maii of 
 Letters is too uniform for much diversity of relation 
 in narrating it, although the fallacy of such corol- 
 lary is evinced in many inijtances to the contrary, 
 6n the present occasion remains in full force. The 
 life of Carew had few incidents, and those are 
 easily told. 
 
 The sera of his birth is doubtful, but, from col- 
 lateral circumstances, probably about 1577- He 
 was a descendant from the ancient and honorable 
 family of his name, long seated in Cornwall (but 
 the branch whence he immediately sprung was of 
 Glocestershire), and brother to Sir Matthew Carew, 
 a strenuous and distinguished adherent to Charles, 
 in the unfortunate dissensions which, a century 
 and an half ago, deluged this country with blood, 
 Thomas received his education at Corpus Christi 
 College, Oxford ; and although, according to Wood, 
 it does not appear that he was matriculated as a 
 member, or admitted to a degree, his genius aud 
 abilities early acc|uired him the notice of the wise 
 aud good.
 
 His attainments and education were improved by 
 travel, and the manners and customs of different^ 
 countries which he visited were observed ^ith an 
 attentive eye. 
 
 On his return, birth, as well as accomplishments, 
 were his introductions to the circles of the great ; 
 and AVeod tells us, " he was adored by the poets of 
 his time." Trusting implicitly to the honest bio- 
 grapher, we know he was beloved by Jonson, Donne, 
 D'Avenant, May, and Suckling; although after 
 his death the latter could write of him, 
 
 ** Tom Carew was next, but he had a fault 
 
 " That would not well stand with a Laureat ; 
 
 " His Muse was hide-bound, and th' issue of 's brain 
 
 *' Was seldom brought forth but with trouble and pain.''* 
 
 To this unmerited censure we need only oppose 
 the opinion of the ingenious Mister Headley : *' He 
 *' has the ease without the pedantry of Waller, and 
 " perhaps less conceit." 
 
 The interest of his brother probably opened the 
 way for an introduction to Charles, the fruits of 
 which were, bein;^ appointed (Gentleman of the 
 Privy Chamber, and Sewer in ordinary to His 
 Majesty: those posts he retained till his death, 
 which happened in l639, universally regretted. 
 
 Lord Clarendon has recorded of him that he 
 possessed excellent parts, and " was a person of a 
 * pleasant and facetious wit, and made many
 
 XI 
 
 * poems (especially in the amorous way), which 
 '* for the sharpness of the fancy, and the elegancy 
 ** of the language, in which that language was 
 ** spiced, were at last equal, if not superior to any 
 ' of that time. But his glory was, that after fifty 
 *' years of his life, spent with less severity or exact- 
 " ness than it ought to have been, he died with the 
 *' greatest remorse for that license, and with the 
 " greatest manifestation of Christianity that his 
 " best friends could desire." 
 
 A little remains to be said relative to Celia, the 
 lady to whom most of his amatory productions are 
 addressed. At this period of time it would be 
 difficult, and indeed impracticable, to ascertain her 
 real name: we have no clue to direct us, either in 
 his own writings or those of his contemporaries. 
 For her, however, a sincere affection seems to have 
 been entertained, although he never received a 
 return. 
 
 *' Oh Love, requited Love J how fine thy thrills, 
 " That shake the tremhliiig frame with ecstacy, 
 " E'en every vein celestial pleasure fills, 
 " And inexpressive hiiss is in each sigh." 
 
 Brydges, Son. 30, Poems, ed. I8O7. 
 
 This disappointment may palliate, if it does not 
 excuse the irregularities of his conduct. 
 
 I may be expected to say a few words respecting 
 the merit of the Poems selected in the following
 
 Xll 
 
 pao-es. Among the elegant Reliques of Bishop 
 Percy, and Specimens of Mister EUis, many of 
 them have already found a place, as well as 'in the 
 Select Beauties of Mister Headley, who seems to 
 have entertained a very just idea of Carew, altliough 
 his critique has not succeeded in regaining the 
 public attention. 
 
 It is in the Amatory department that we must 
 seek, in order to form a correct opinion of his 
 poetical talent. In it I do not hesitate to assert, 
 every reader of taste will discover a tender glow of 
 imagination and felicity in combining ideas, that 
 mark him as a true poet. It is easy to scribble 
 verses, but quite difterent to write poetry. In 
 Carew we almost always perceive an unaffected 
 method of sentiment, so many beautiful images 
 that are not to be found in any former author; 
 added to which, so mellifluous a flow of harmony 
 in his lines, that we cannot deny him the praise of 
 the latter. He is the first that has sung the praises 
 of Beauty, and the delightful sensations of Love, 
 with Doric delicacy. He displays a manner of his 
 own, much superior to the pedantic metaphysical 
 effusions of Waller, and he only requires to be 
 inore known to be more redde. 
 
 The beautiful little piece, Disdaine Returned, 
 has already met the commendation of that elezant 
 critic. Bishop Percy, and been inserted in Mister 
 Ellis's Specimens.
 
 Xlll 
 
 Itt the Pastoral Dialogue, there are soriie pas- 
 sages exquisitely fine. Such are, 
 
 " Sec, Love, t\ie blushes of the morn appear, 
 
 " And now she hnngs her pearly store, 
 
 " llob'd from the eastern shore, 
 
 " r th' cowslips bell and roses rare." 
 
 *' They kist and wept, and from their lips and eyes, 
 " In a mixt dew of briny sweet, 
 " Their joys and sorrows meet." 
 
 The ensuing image has been used in a dilated 
 manner by many of our moderu poets. 
 
 " The winged hours fly fast while we embrace, 
 " But when we want their help to meet, 
 " They move with leaden feet." 
 
 The Primrose also so sweetly 
 
 *' Bepearl'd with true poetic dew," 
 
 evidently ranks our author amongst " Fancy's 
 children," who 
 
 " Warble their native wood no(cs wild." 
 
 It may not be Improper to remark, tliat for this 
 Selection the 2d edition of Carew, lG4'2, has been 
 used, with one exception, in wliich 1 have conjec- 
 turally altered a word. 
 
 " The parents that first gave her breath, 
 ** And their ead friemis laid her in ettrth."
 
 XIV 
 
 So stand the two lines in that edition, and the 
 one of 1772; but I have taken the liberty, for the 
 sake of the rime, of altering the first line to 
 " The parents that first gave her Kr^A." 
 
 And so it is most probable Carew wrote it. 
 
 J. F. 
 
 Bristol, Jan. isio
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 DEDICATION Hi 
 
 PREFACE T 
 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF THOMAS CAREW ix 
 
 AMATORY. Pciswasions to Love 3 
 
 Lip8 and Eyes 10 
 
 SoNC. Murdring Beauty 12 . 
 
 Sccrerie Protested 13 
 
 A Prayer to the Wind 14 
 
 Song. Mediocrity in Love rejected 17 
 
 Good Counsel to a Young Maid. ..18 
 
 To my Mistris, sitting by a River's Side.. ..20 
 
 Sons, Conquest by Flight 23 
 
 To my Inconstant Mistris 24 
 
 Perswasions to Enjoy 25 
 
 Ingrateful Beauty threatued...yw 36 
 
 Disdaine returned 29 
 
 .Song. Eternity of Love protested 31 
 
 Good Connsell to a Young Maid 32 
 
 Song. To One who, when I prais'd my 
 
 Mistris Beauty, said I was blind 33 
 
 Toroy Mistris, I burning in Love 34 
 
 To her againc, she burning in a 
 
 Feaver 3(i 
 
 i 
 A Fly that flew into my Mistris her Eye... 37 
 
 Song. Celia Singing 39
 
 XVI 
 
 Page 
 
 AMATORY. BoUlnesscin Love 40 
 
 A Pastoi-atl Dialogue 43 
 
 Red and White Roses 46 
 
 The Enquiry 47 
 
 The Primrose 49 
 
 The Protestation 52 
 
 The Dart 56 
 
 Upon a Mole in Celia's Bosome. 57 
 
 DESCRIPTIVE. The Spring ^ 6l 
 
 ToSaxham 6t 
 
 To my Friend G. N. from Wrest 68 
 
 ELEGIAC. Epitaph oe Lady Mary Villers 79 
 
 Anoilier 80 
 
 EPLSTOLARY. Upon Master W. Moantague his 
 
 Retui-ne 83 
 
 To Biy worthy Friend Master George 
 
 Sands 87 
 
 To my Lord Admirall go
 
 9lmatorp*
 
 mtA...^^
 
 TO 
 
 A. L. 
 
 PERSWASIONS TO LOVE. 
 
 Thinke not, 'cause men flatt'ring say, 
 
 Y'are fresh as Aprill, sweet as Miay, 
 
 Bright as is the morriiftg-starre 
 
 That you are so ; or though you are. 
 
 Be not therefore proud, and deem 5 
 
 All men unworthy your esteeme: 
 
 V. 3. BrigJtt as is the numing /an-e.] Thus Milton^ Ode cK 
 May Morning, 1.1. 
 
 " Now tbe bright momittfj ataty day's harbinger, 
 " Comes duncing< from the East." 
 
 Spenser, F. Q. b. i. c. 12. st. 21. 
 
 " As bright as (loth the wornw^ stafre appears 
 Out of the East." 
 
 B 2
 
 For being so, you loose the pleasure 
 
 Of being faire, since that rich treasure 
 
 Of rare beauty and sweet feature 
 
 Was bestow'd on you by Nature 10 
 
 To be enjoy'd, and 'twere a sin 
 
 There to be scarce, where she hath beene 
 
 So prodigall of her best grace*; 
 
 Thus common beauties and meane faces 
 
 Shall have more pastime, and enjoy 15 
 
 The sport you loose, by being coy. 
 
 Did the thing for which I sue, 
 
 Onely concerne myselfe, not you; 
 
 Were men so fram'd as they alone 
 
 Reap'd all the pleasure, women none, 20 
 
 Then had you reason to be scant; 
 
 But twere a madnesse not to grant 
 
 That which affords (if you consent) 
 
 To you the giver, more content 
 
 Than me the beggar; oh then be 25 
 
 Kind to yourselfe, if not to mee; 
 
 Starve not yourselfe, because you may 
 
 Thereby make me pine away;
 
 Nor let brittle beauty make 
 
 You your wiser thoughts forsake: 30 
 
 For that lovely face will faile; 
 
 Eeautie's sweet, but beautie's fraile; 
 
 'Tis sooner past, 'tis sooner done 
 
 Than summer's rainc, or winter's sun ; 
 
 Most fleeting when it is most deare ; 35 
 
 'Tis gone, while wee but say ^tis here. 
 
 These curious locks so aptly twind. 
 
 Whose every haire a soule doth bind, 
 
 t). 32. Beautie's sweety but beautie'sjTaU.} Milton, Par, Lost, 
 b. xi V. 538. 
 
 " thou mnst outlive 
 
 Thy youth, thy strength, thy beauty, which will change 
 To withei'd, weak, aadgtay.'" 
 
 V. 37. These curious locks so aptly twind, &c.] There is a 
 great similarity between this poem and Daniel's " Descrip- 
 tion of Beauty," translated from Marino, particularly the 
 fonr following^ stanzas. 
 
 Old trembling age will come. 
 
 With wrinkPd checks and stains. 
 
 With motion troublesome; 
 
 With skin and bloodless veins. 
 
 That lively visage reaven. 
 
 And made defurmM and old, 
 
 Hates sight of glass it lov'd so to behold.
 
 6 
 
 Will change their abxoun hue, and grow 
 White, and cold as winter's snow. 40 
 
 That eye which now is Cupid's nest 
 Will prove his grave, and all the rest 
 
 Thy gold and scarlet shall 
 
 Pale silrcr-colour be ; 
 
 Thy row of pearls shall fall 
 
 Like wither'd leaves from treej 
 
 And thou shalt shortly see 
 
 Thy face and hair to grow. 
 
 All ploughed with fun-ows, overswoln with snow. 
 
 That which on Flora's breast. 
 
 All fresh and flourishing, 
 
 Aurora newly drest 
 
 Saw in her dawning spring ; 
 
 Quite d>"y and languishing, 
 
 Depriv'd of honour quite, 
 
 Day closing Hesperus beholds at night. 
 
 Fair is the lily ; fair 
 
 The rose ; of flow'rs the eye 1 
 
 Both wither in the air. 
 
 Their beauteous colours die j 
 
 And so at length shall lie, 
 
 Depriv'd of former grace. 
 
 The lillies of thy breasts, the roses of thy face. 
 
 V. 39. JiroanJ Anhum.
 
 will follow ; in the cheeke, ehih, nose. 
 
 Nor Hlly shall be found, nor rose ; 
 
 And what will thert become of all 45 
 
 Those, whom niDvv you servants call ? 
 
 Like swalloweSi when your summer's done 
 
 They'le fly, and seeke some warmer suti. 
 
 Then wisely chuse one to your friend. 
 
 Whose love may (when yout beauties fend) 50 
 
 Remaine still firm : be provident, 
 
 And thinke before the summer's spent 
 
 Of following winter ; like the dnt 
 
 In plenty hoord for time of scant. 
 
 Cull out amongst the multitude .Tr> 
 
 Of lovers, that seek to intrude 
 
 Into your favour, one that may 
 
 Love for an age, not for a day ; 
 
 One that will quench your youthfull fires. 
 
 And feed in age your hot desires. 60 
 
 V. 53 like the ant 
 
 In plenty hoord for tme of wnnf.] Milton, Par, F/>^<y 
 h. vii. 485. 
 
 " The parsimonious emmet, provident 
 '< Of >/?/;."
 
 8 
 
 For when the stormes of Time have mov'd 
 
 Waves on that cheeke which was belov'cl ; 
 
 When a faire ladle's face is pin'd. 
 
 And yellow spred, where red once shin'd ; 
 
 When beauty, youth, and all sweets leave her, 65 
 
 Love may returne, but lovers never : 
 
 And old folkes say there are no paines 
 
 Like itch of love in aged vaines. 
 
 Oh love me then, and now begin it. 
 
 Let us not loose this present minute : 70 
 
 For time and age will worke that wrack 
 
 Which time or age shall nere call back. 
 
 The snake each yeare fresh skin resumes. 
 
 And Eagles change their aged plumes } 
 
 The faded Rose each spring receives 75 
 
 A fresh red tincture on her leaves : 
 
 V. 73. The snake each yeare fresh skin resumes.'] ^Thiis Milton 
 Tar. Lost, b. x. 218. 
 
 " Or as the saake with youthful coat repaid." 
 
 B. 7i>. The faded rose each spring receives 
 
 Afresh red tincture on her leaies] Milton, Sonn 20. v G. 
 
 " Favonius reinspirc 
 
 " The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire 
 " The lily and rose.'"
 
 But if your beauties once decay. 
 You never know a second May, 
 Oh then be wise, and whilst your season 
 Affords you dayes for sport, doe reason; 80 
 Spend not in vaine your lives short hourc. 
 But crop in time your beauties flower. 
 Which will away, and doth together 
 Both bud and fade, both blow and wither.
 
 1^ 
 
 LIPS AND EYES. 
 
 In Celia's face a question did arise, 
 
 Which were more beautiful!, hef Lips or Eyes: 
 
 We (said the Eyes) send forth those poynted 
 
 darts 
 Which pierce the hardest adamantine hearts. 
 From us (replyde theLips) proceed those bUsses, 5 
 Which lovers reape by kind words and sweet 
 
 kisses. 
 Then wept the Eyes, and from their springs did 
 
 powre 
 Of liquid orientall pearle a shower. 
 
 w. 7 aiidfiom their springs did powre 
 
 Of liquid orientall pearle a sJioJcer.} This metaphor 
 i very beautiful j as in Milton, Par. Lost, b. v. i. 
 
 ' Now morn, her rosy steps iu the eastern clime 
 " Advancing, sow"d the earth with orient pearl.'"
 
 11 
 
 Whereat the Lips, mov'd with delight and 
 
 pleasure. 
 Through a sweet smile unlockt their pearlie 
 
 treasure; 
 And bad Love judge, whether did adde more 
 
 grace. 
 Weeping, or smiling pearles in Celia's face. 12
 
 12 
 
 SONG. 
 
 MURDRING BEAUTY. 
 
 I'll gaze no more on her bewitching face. 
 Since ruine harbours there in every placet 
 For my enchanted soule alike she drowns 
 With calmes or tempests of her smiles and 
 
 firownes. 
 I'le love no more those cruel! eyes of her's, 5 
 Which, pleas'd or anger'd, still are murderers : 
 For if shee dart (like lightning) thro' the ayre 
 Her beames of wrath, she kils me with despaire : 
 If she behold mec with a pleasing eye, 
 I surfet with excesse of joy, and dye. 10 
 
 . 7 dart, like lightning, thro' the ayre.J Miltou, Par. 
 
 Lost, b. vi. 64S. 
 
 " Light as the lightning glimpse they ran." 
 
 B. X. 184. 
 
 ' Saw Satan yb//, like lightning, down from Heaven.'" 
 
 Samson. Agon. 1284. 
 
 " Swiji as the lightning glance."
 
 13 
 
 SECRECIE TROTESTED. 
 
 Feare not (deare Love) that Tie reveale 
 
 Those hoiires of pleasure we two steak ; 
 
 No eye shall see, nor yet the sun 
 
 Descrj', what thou and I have done ; 
 
 No eare shall heare our love ; but wee 5 
 
 Silent as the night will be; 
 
 The God of Love himselfe (whose dart 
 
 Did first wound mine, and then thy heart) 
 
 Shall never know, that we can tell. 
 
 What sweets in stolne embraces dwell : 10 
 
 This only meancs may find it out ; 
 
 If, when I dye, physicians doubt 
 
 What caus'd my death ; and, there to view 
 
 Of all their judgements which was true. 
 
 Rip up my heart : O then I feare 15 
 
 The world will see thy picture there. 
 
 I!. 6. Silent as the ng'A^] Milton has, Par, Lost, b. iv. 647, 
 " Silent night." 
 
 Srovne's Brit, Past. h. i. s. 4. 
 
 *' All hnsbt aud silent as the mid of night,''
 
 u 
 
 A PRAYER TO THE WIND. 
 
 GoE thou gentle whispering wind, 
 Beare this sigh; and if thou find 
 
 V. 1. Goe thou gentle whispfering wind;] Thus Milton", 
 Par. Reg. b. ir. 26. 
 
 *' Where mnds witii reeds and osiers voldsptrirrg play." 
 
 V Allegro, llG. 
 
 " By; whispering, winds soon lull'd asleep." 
 
 Ode on Christ's Nat. 64j &c. 
 
 " The winds, with wonder whist, 
 
 " SiAaothty the waters kist, 
 ; ;" Whispering new joys to the luild ocean." 
 
 Consult also Mister Todd's Notes on the two former pas- 
 sages, in bis last edition of Milton. 
 
 Browne's iJr<V. Past. b. i. s. 4. 
 " A western, mild,, and pretty whispering, gale, 
 " Came ddttylng with the leaves along the dale." 
 
 . 1 . Goe thou gentle whispering wind, 
 JJcare this sigh'; and'if tfiou\fiiid 
 Where my crueU /aire doth rest. 
 
 Cast it in her snowie breast.'} Pope seems to have iiad 
 ihis passage in view when he wrote 
 
 " Go, gentle gales, and bear my sighs away ! 
 * To Delia's ar the tender notes conveyf" 
 
 Autumn, Past. 3.
 
 m 
 
 Where my cruell faire doth rest, 
 
 Cast it in her snowie brest ; ''od 
 
 So, enflam'd' by iiay desire, rUl 
 
 It may set her heanfc afire : 
 
 Those sweet kisses thou shalt gaine 
 
 Will reward thee for thy paine. 
 
 Boldly light upon her lip. 
 
 There suck odours, and thence skip- IOj 
 
 Toherbosome; lastly^ falb 
 
 Downe, and wander; overall;: 
 
 Range about those ivorie hills 
 
 From whose every part distils 
 
 Amber-dew 3 there spices grow, 15 
 
 There pure streams of Nectar flow; 
 
 There perfume thyselfe and bring 
 
 All those sweets upon thy wing : 
 
 As thou return'st, change by thy power 
 
 Every weed into a flower ; 20 
 
 Turjpe each thistle to a vine. 
 
 Make the bramble eglantine ; 
 
 V. 4. Cast it in her snouie brea.it.'] Thus Spenser, F. Q. b. 
 iv. c. 11. St. 51. 
 
 ' And Psamathe, for her broad moiey breasts.'^
 
 16 
 
 For so rich a bootie made^ 
 
 Doe but this, and I am paid. 
 
 Thou canst with thy powerfull blast 25 
 
 Heat apace, and coole as fast : 
 
 Thou canst kindle hidden flame. 
 
 And agen destroy the same : 
 
 Then, for pitty, either stir 
 
 Up the fire of love in her, 30, 
 
 That alike both flames may shine. 
 
 Or else quite extinguish mine.
 
 17 
 
 SONG. 
 
 MEDIOCRITY IN LOVE REJECTED. 
 
 Give me more love^ or more disdaine, 
 
 The torrid, or rtie frozen zone 
 Bring equall ease unto my paine^ 
 
 The temperate affords me none : 
 Either extreame, of love, or hate, 5 
 
 Is sweeter than a calmc estate. 
 
 Give me a storme ; if it be love. 
 
 Like Dauae in that golden showre ,'t\<,. I 
 I swimmc in pleasure; if it prove 
 
 Disdaine, that torrent will devourc iO 
 
 My vulture-hopes; and he's possest 
 
 Of Heaven, that's but from Hell releast : 
 Then crowne my joyes, or cure my paine ; 
 Give me more love, or more disdaine. 
 c
 
 18 
 
 SONG. 
 
 GOOD COUNSEL TO A YOUNG MAID. 
 
 Gaze not on thy beauties pride> 
 Tender maid, in the false tide 
 That from lovers eyes doth slide. 
 
 Let thy faithful Chrystall show. 
 How thy colours come and goe : 
 Beautie takes a foyle from woe. 
 
 Love, that in those smooth streames lyes 
 Under pitties faire disguise. 
 Will thy melting heart surprize. 
 
 * 10 
 
 *
 
 19 
 
 Then beware; for those that cure 
 Love's disease, themselves endure 
 For reward, a calenture. 15 
 
 Rather let the lover pine. 
 
 Than his pale cheeke should asslgne 
 
 A perpetuall blush lo thine. 
 
 V. 15. a calenture.y-'A distemper peculiar to sailors in hot 
 climates ; wherein they imagine the sea to be green fields, 
 and will throw themselves into it, Johnson^s Diet. 
 
 13 2
 
 20 
 
 TO MY MTSTRIS, 
 
 SITTING BY A RIVER's SIDE, AN EDDY. 
 
 Marke how yond eddy steales away 
 
 From the rude streame hito the bay ; 
 
 There lockt up safe, she doth divorce 
 
 Her waters from the channels course. 
 
 And scornes the Torrent, that did bring 5 
 
 Her headlong from her native spring. 
 
 Now doth she with her new love play. 
 
 Whilst hee runs murmuring away. 
 
 Mark how shee courts the bankes, whilst they 
 
 As amorously their armes display, 10 
 
 T' embrace and clip her silver waves : 
 
 See how shee strokes their sides, and craves 
 
 An entrance there, which they deny j 
 
 Whereat shee frownes, threatning to fly 
 
 Home to her streame, and 'gins to swim 15 
 
 Backward, but from the chanels brim
 
 21 
 
 Smiling, returnes into the crceke. 
 With thousand dimples on her cheeke. 
 
 Be thou this eddy, and I'le make 
 My breast thy shore, where thou shalt take 20 
 Secure repose, and never dreame 
 Of the quite forsaken streahie : 
 Let him to the wide ocean haste. 
 There lose his colour, name, and taste j 
 Thou- shalt save all, and safe from him, 25 
 
 Within these armes for ever swim. 
 
 . 18. With thousand Aimfles on ^cr cheeke.} Browne, Brit. 
 Past. s. V. V. 135. 
 
 " And every river, with unusual pride 
 " And dimpled cheek.'" 
 
 Milton, Comus, lig. 
 
 " By dimpled brook and fountain brim." 
 
 Shenstone, Rural Elegance, 
 
 *' For dimpled brook and leafy grove." 
 
 Thomson, Spring, 173. 
 
 " softly shaking; on Ihedimpled pool 
 
 *' Prelusive drops." 
 425. " The d'tapled water." 
 
 Little's (Moore) Poems. Edit. 1805, p. 172. 
 " Floating within the dimpled stream."
 
 22 
 SONG.* 
 
 CONaUEST BY FLIGHT. 
 
 Ladies, fly from Love's smooth tale, 
 Oathes steep'd in teares do oft prevaile; 
 Griefe is infectious, and the ayre 
 Enflam'd with sighes will blast the fayre : 
 Then stop your eares, when lovers cry, 5 
 
 Lest yourselfe weep, when no soft eye 
 Shall with a sorrowing teare repay 
 That pitty which you cast away. 
 
 Young men, fly, when beauty darts 
 Amorous glances at your hearts : 10 
 
 The fixt marke gives the shooter ayme. 
 And ladies lookes have power to mayme : 
 
 * The 2d stanza of this song is to be found in <* Festum 
 Voluptatisj or the Banquet of Pleasure," by S (amuel) P (eckc) 
 1639, A.
 
 Now *twixt their lips, now in their eyes, 
 Wrapt in a smile, or kisse Love lies j 
 Then fly betimes, for only they 15 
 
 Conquer love that run away,
 
 24 
 ' SONG. 
 
 TO MY INCONSTANT MISTRIS. 
 
 When thou, poor excommunicate 
 From all the joyes of love, shalt see 
 
 The full reward, and glorious fate, 
 Which my strong faith shall purchase me. 
 Then curse thine owne inconstancy. 5 
 
 A fayrer hand than thine, shall cure 
 That heart which thy false oathes did wound j 
 
 And to my soule, a soule more pure 
 Than thine shall by love's hand be bound. 
 And both with equall glory crown'd. 10 
 
 V 
 
 Then shalt thou weepe, entreat, complaine 
 To Love, as I did once to thee ; 
 
 When all thy teares shall be as vaine 
 As mine were then, for thou shalt bee 
 Damn'd for thy false Apostasie. 15
 
 ^5 
 
 A SONG.* 
 
 PERSWASIONS TO ENJOY. 
 
 If the quick spirits in your eye 
 Now languish, and anon must dye ; 
 If every sweet, and every grace 
 Must fly from that forsaken face ; 
 . Then (Celia) let us reape our joys, 5 
 
 y Ere time such goodly fruit destroyes. 
 
 r . 
 
 Or, if that golden fleece must grow 
 For ever, free from aged snow j 
 If those bright suns must know no shade^ 
 Nor your fresh beauties ever fade ; 10 
 
 Then feare not (Celia) to bestow 
 What still being gather'd still must grow. 
 I Thus, either Time his sickle brings 
 In vaine, or else in vaine his wings. 
 
 * This mellifluous Song has been inserted in the elegant 
 specimens of Doctor Aikin . See his Essays on Song'Writingr, 
 I p. 247, cd. 1774, The Uaincd Doctor, liowt\er, was igno- 
 rant of t)tc author.
 
 M 
 
 INGRATEFUL BEAUTY THREATNED. 
 
 Know, Celia, (since thou art so proud) 
 'Twas I that gave thee thy renowne : 
 
 Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd 
 Of common beauties, liv'd unknownc. 
 
 Had not my verse exhal'd thy name, 5 
 
 And with it ympt the wings of Fame. 
 
 V. 6 ympt the wings of Faw.] This phrase is bor- 
 rowed from Falconry. To imp is to add a new piece to a 
 broken stump. See Spenser's Hymne of Heavenly Beautic, 
 V. 134. 
 
 " Thence gathering plumes of perfect speculation 
 " To vnpe the wings of thy high flying mynd." 
 
 Spenser, Faerie Queene, b. iv. c. 9. 4. 
 *' And, having r/wpt the head to it egayne." 
 
 Fletcher, Purp. Isl. c. ist, 24. 
 
 '* imping their flaggy wing 
 
 " With thy stoln plumes." 
 
 Milton, Sonnet 15. 
 
 " the false North displays 
 
 ' Her broken league to imp their serpent wings>'^
 
 That killing power is none of thine, 
 
 I gave it to thy voyce and eyes : 
 Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine; 
 
 Thou art my starre, shinst in my skies; 10 
 Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere 
 Lightning on him that fixt thee there. 
 
 Cleavland's Bebel Scqt, v. 29. 
 
 " Help, ye tart satirists, to imp my rage, 
 
 *' With all the scoi-pions that should whip this agCt" 
 
 Browne, Brit. Past. b. i. s. 2. 
 
 " a barren tree, 
 
 " Which when the gard'ner on it pains bestow , 
 *' To graft an imp thereon, in time it grows." 
 
 b. ii. s. 2. 
 
 * And when thy temple's well deserving bays 
 '* Might imp a pride in thee to reach thy praise." 
 
 Massinger, Renegado, act v. sc. 3. 
 
 " to hup 
 
 " New feathers to the broken nings of time." 
 
 Roman Actur, act v. sc. 2- 
 
 ** Could I imp feathers to the wings of time." 
 
 The Great Buke qf Florence, acti. so. 1. 
 
 ** Imp feathers to the broken u-ings of time.''
 
 $8 
 
 > 
 
 Tempt me with such affrights no more. 
 
 Lest what I made, I uncreate: 
 Let fooles thy mystique formes adore, 1 5 
 
 rie know thee in thy mortall state. 
 Wise poets, that wrap't Truth in tales. 
 Knew her thernselves through all her veiles.
 
 29 
 
 DISDAINE RETURNED. 
 
 Hee that loves a rosie cheeke. 
 
 Or a corall lip admires. 
 Or from star-like eyes doth seeke 
 
 Fuell to mantaine his fires ; 
 As old Time makes these decay, 5 
 
 So his flames must waste away. ' 
 
 But a smooth, and stedfast mind. 
 Gentle thoughts and calme desires. 
 
 Hearts with equal! love combind. 
 
 Kindle never dying fires. 10 
 
 Where these are not, T despise 
 
 Lovely checks, or lips or eyes. 
 
 No tears, Celia, now shall win 
 
 My resolv'd heart to return ; 
 I have scarcht thy soule within, 15 
 
 And find nought, but pride, and scorne ; 
 
 tj. 3 star-like eyes.] Milton, P. L. b vil. 446, 
 
 has " stairy eyes."
 
 m 
 
 I have learn'd thy arts, and now 
 
 Can disdaine as much as thou. . ICT 
 
 Some power, in my revenge convey 
 
 That love to her, I cast away. 20 
 
 i cyui r,ia JtJiiiii 
 
 ,i ;/ 

 
 31 
 
 SONG. 
 
 ETERNITY OF LOVE PROTESTED. 
 
 How ill doth he deserve a lover's name. 
 
 Whose pale weak flame 
 Cannot retaine 
 
 His heate, in spite of absence or disdaine ; 
 
 But doth at once, like paper set on fire, 5 
 
 Burne, and expire ! 
 
 True love can never change his seat. 
 
 Nor did he ever love that could retreat. 
 
 That noble flame, which my brest keeps alive. 
 Shall still survive 10 
 
 When my soule's fled ; 
 
 Nor shall my love dye when my bodye's dead ; 
 
 That shall waite on me to the lower shade. 
 And never fade. 
 
 My very ashes in their urne 15 
 
 Shall like a hollow'd lamp, for ever burne.
 
 32 
 
 GOOD COUNSELL TO A YOUNG MAID. 
 
 When you the Sunrbumt Pilgrim see. 
 
 Fainting with thirst, hast to the springs ; 
 Marke how at first with bended knee 
 
 He courts the crystal Nymphs, and flings 
 His body to the earth, where he 5 
 
 Prostrate, adores the flowing Deitie, 
 But when his sweaty face is drencht 
 
 In her coole waves, when from her sweet 
 Bosome, his burning thirst is quencht ; 
 
 Then marke how with disdainfull feet 10 
 
 He kicks her banks, and from the place 
 That thus refresht him, moves with sullen pace. 
 So shalt thou be despis'd, faire Maid, 
 
 When by the sated Lover tasted ; 
 What first he did with teares invade, 1 5 
 
 Shall afterwards with scorne be wasted ; 
 When all the Virgin -springs grow dry. 
 When no streamcs shall be left, but in thine 
 eye.
 
 S3 
 
 SONG. 
 
 TO ONJ?, WHO, WHEN I PRAIs'd MY MISTRIS 
 BEAUTY, SAID I WAS BLIND. 
 
 Wonder not though I am blind. 
 
 For you must be ; 
 
 Dark in your eyjes, or in your mind; 
 
 If, when you see 
 Her face, you prove not bhnd Uke me: 5 
 
 If the powerful beames that fly 
 
 From her eye. 
 And those amorous sweets that lye 
 Scatter'd in each neighbouring part. 
 Find a passage to your heart, 10 
 
 Then you'le confesse your mortal! sight 
 Too weake for such a glorious light: 
 For if her graces you discover. 
 You grow like riie a dazel'd Lover; 
 But if those beauties you not spy, 15 
 
 Then are you blinder farre then I.
 
 34 
 
 SONG 
 
 TO MY MISTRIS, 1 BURNING IN LOVE, 
 
 I Bume, and cruell you, in vaine, 
 
 Hope to quench me with disdaine; 
 
 If from your eyes those sparkles came 
 
 That have kindled all this flame. 
 
 What boots it me, tho' now you shrowd 5 
 
 Those fierce comets in a cloud, 
 
 . 5. What boots it me ] To boot; profit, advantage, as is 
 Shakspeare, Ant. ^ Cleop. act iv. sc. 1, 
 
 " Give bim no breath, but now 
 
 *' Make boot of his distraction.^ 
 
 Milton, Sampson AgonisteSy 56o. 
 
 " What boots it at one gate to make defence, 
 " And at another to let in the foe." 
 
 Milton, Lycidas, 64. 
 
 *' Alas ! what boots it with incessant care 
 
 ** To tend the homely, slighted, shepherd's trade." 
 
 Browne, Btit. Past b. i. s. I. 
 
 " what boot 
 
 " Is it to me to pluck up by the root 
 
 My former love, and in his place to eoir , 
 
 ** As ill a seed."
 
 S5 
 
 Since all the flames that I have felt. 
 
 Could your snow yet never melt ? 
 
 Nor can your snow (tho' you should take 
 
 Alpes into youf bosome) slake lO 
 
 The heate of my enamour 'd heart; 
 
 But with wonder learne Love's art. 
 
 No seas of yce can cool desire; 
 
 Equall flames must quench Love's fire: 
 
 Then thinke not that my heart can die, 15 
 
 Till you bume as wel as L 
 
 o s
 
 36 
 
 i\-J\ 'iVfiH I 1: 
 
 SONG 
 
 TO HER AGAINE, SHE BURNIN<G.jipi Af^VERi 
 
 Now she burnes as well as 1, 
 
 Yet my heat , can neyer dycj 
 
 She burnes that never knew desire. 
 
 She that was yce, she that was fire. 4- 
 
 She, whose cold heart chaste thoughts did arme 
 
 So, as Loves could never warme 
 
 The frozen bosome where it dwelt; 
 
 She burnes, and all her beauties melt: 
 
 She burnes, and crycs. Loves fires are mild; 
 
 Feavers are Gods he's a child. 10 
 
 Love, let her know the difference 
 
 'Twixt the heat of soule and sense; 
 
 Touch her with thy flames divine. 
 
 So shalt thou quench her fire and mine.
 
 '37 
 
 A FLY THAT FLEW INTO MY MISTRIS 
 HER EYE.* 
 
 When this fly liv'd, she us'd to play 
 
 In the sunshine all the day j ^ 
 
 ^"ill coming neere my Celia's sight. 
 
 She found a new and unknowne light. 
 
 So full of glory, as it made 3 
 
 The nooneday sun a gloomy shade ; 
 
 TTien this amorous fly became 
 
 My rivall, and did court my flame, 
 
 She did from hand to bosome skip. 
 
 And from her breath, her chceke, and lip, 10 
 
 Suck'd all the incense, and the spice. 
 
 And grew a bird of Paradise : 
 
 At last into her eye she flew. 
 
 There scorcht in flames, and drown'd in dew, 
 
 * Cleavlaud bus closely imitated this poem iiione with the 
 same title. Sec Poems, cd. 1659, p. l'i6.
 
 38 
 
 Like Phaeton from the sun's spheare, 15 
 
 She fell, and with her dropt a teare ; 
 
 Of which a pcarle was straight conipos'd, 
 
 ^yhcrein her ashes lye enclos'd, 
 
 Thus she receiv'd from Celia's eye, 
 
 Funerall flame, tomb obsequie. 20
 
 39 
 
 ONG. 
 
 CELIA SINGING. 
 
 You, that thinke Love can convey, 
 
 No other way 
 
 But through the eyes, into the heart 
 
 His fatall dart. 
 
 Close up those casements, and but heare S 
 This Syren sing. 
 And on the wing 
 
 Of her sweet voyce it shall appeare 
 
 That Love can enter at the eare : 
 
 Then unvaile your eyes, behold 10 
 
 The curious mould 
 
 ^here that voyce dwels j and as we know. 
 
 When the cocks crow. 
 
 We freely may 
 
 Gaze on the day j 15 
 
 So may you, when the musique's done. 
 
 Awake and see the rising Sun.
 
 m 
 
 BOLDNESSE IN LOVE.* 
 
 Mark how the bashful! morne in vaine 
 
 Courts the amorous Marigold 
 With sighing blasts and weeping raine ; 
 
 Yet she refuses to unfold : 
 But when the planet of the day 5 
 
 Approacheth with his powerful 1 ray^ 
 
 * Compare with this little piece, the Sutiflower and the Ivy, 
 in Langhorne's Fables of Flora, wherein he seems to have 
 imitated it. 
 
 V. 5. But when the planet of the day, &c.] The marigold is 
 said to open and shut its leaves with the Sun. Thus Browne's 
 Brit. Past. b. i. . 5. 
 
 " The day is woxen olde, 
 
 " And gins to shut in with the marigold.^ 
 
 Cleavland's Poeriis, 16S9, p. 27. 
 
 *' The marigold, whose courtiers face 
 
 " Echoes the Sun, and doth unlace 
 
 " Her at his rise, at his full stop 
 
 " Packs, and shuts up her gaudy shop."
 
 41 
 
 . hen she spreads, then she receives 
 
 His warnjer beames into her virgin' l^ayes. 
 
 So shalt thou thrive in love, fond boyj 
 
 If thy teares and sighs discover 10 
 
 Thy griefe, thou never shall enjoy 
 
 The just reward of a bold lover: 
 
 But \vh(jn with moving accents thou" 
 
 Shalt constant faiih, and service vo\y. 
 
 Thy Celia shalt receive those charmes' IS 
 
 With open cares, and with unfolded armes. 
 
 SliuUspcare, Winter's Tale, act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 " The marir^olJ, ilmt goes to bed with the Sun, 
 " Aiii] with him rises weeping." 
 
 Pv'imv\ Sermon al Oxford, lamo, ir.88. 
 
 " No jiiarii^old servant of Ge\A, to open with the Sun^ and 
 shut with the dewe.' ,;> 
 
 I-ord Howard's Dc/cn,?a<iie, 1583, 4to. 
 " Tlie wurigolde dooth close and open with the Sunne.'''' 
 
 Thomson's Summer, 
 
 " But ore, the lofty follower of the Sun, 
 " Fad when he sets, shuts up her yellow leaves 
 " Drooping all night ; and, when he warm returns, 
 " Points her eunroour'<] bosom to his ray/'
 
 42 
 
 A PASTORALL DIALOGUE.* 
 
 S5HEPHERD, NIMPHSj CHORUS. 
 
 SHEPHERD. 
 
 This mossiebanke they prest. Nim. That aged 
 oak 
 Did canopie the happy payre 
 All night from the dampe ayre. 
 Cho. Here let us sit, and sing the words they 
 
 spoke. 
 Till the day breaking their embraces broke, 5 
 
 SHEPHERD. 
 
 See, Love, the blushes of the mome appear; 
 
 * The conunencement of this dialogue is very cluself 
 imitated from Shakspeare^s Ronieo and Juliet, act iii. sc. 5. 
 
 t). 6. See, Love, the blushes nf ilieviorne appear -"^ 
 
 Komeo look, Love, what envious streaks 
 
 Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east : 
 Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day 
 Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops ; 
 I must be gone and live, or stay and die.
 
 43 
 
 And now she hangs her pearly store 
 (Rob'd from the easterne shore) 
 
 r th' couslips bell and roses rare ; 
 
 Sweet, I must stay no longer here. 1 
 
 NIMPH. 
 
 Those streakes of doubtfull light, usher not day. 
 But shew my Sunne must setj no Morne 
 Shall shine till thou returne: 
 
 The yellow Planets, and the gray 
 
 Dawne, shall attend thee on thy way. 15 
 
 f. 6. Seej lime, the blushes of t/ie mom appear f 
 And now she havt^s her jicarly state 
 fUoh'dJroiii the eiutteine shore) 
 
 1' t/i' couslips bell and roses rare.} See Note ou the 
 Primrose. 
 
 . 11. Those slreakes of doubtfull light, Ike] 
 Juliet. You light is not day-light, 1 know it, I : 
 It is some meteor that the sun exhnles, 
 To be to thee this night u toich-bearer. 
 And light thee on thy way to Mantua; 
 Therefore stay yet, thou needst not to be gone. 
 
 I'. 14. The yellow Planets, atid the gray 
 
 Dawne, shall attend thee on thy Jcay.l The Rev. H. J. 
 Todd has already, in his exrclh.-nt edition of Milton, remarked
 
 lU 
 
 SHEPHERD. 
 
 .nine eyes guild my patVies, they 'may forbear 
 Their uselesse shine. Nim. My tearcs wili 
 - quH^ 
 
 Extinguish their faint light. 
 Sh^p. Those drops wiU make their beaqies more 
 
 cleare. 
 Loves flames will shine in every tcare. 20 
 
 ' ' ' 1 1 ', " 
 
 CHOB.US. 
 
 They kist, and wept, and from their lips, and 
 eyes, 
 
 the similai-iK between these two lines ami Par, Lost, b. vii. 
 
 " the gray 
 
 " Dawn, Uid the Pleiades before him danc'tl, 
 *' Shedding sweet influence." 
 
 See also Lycidas, v. 187. 
 
 " the still mom went out vtilli sandalsgroy." 
 
 Clearland's Poems, 1659, p. 155. 
 " As Vaz gray morvirsg dawn'd." 
 
 Dorset's Induction to the JUTirrbrfdr Iffaffulrales- 
 , . ^ ** The, niprroiogratf^'
 
 In a mixt dew of briny sweet, 
 
 Their joyes and sorrowes meet ; 
 But she cryes. out. J-NlM. Shepherd^ arise, 
 The Sun betray cs us else to spies. 
 
 SHEPHERD. _ 
 
 '''. ^"^ 
 
 The winged houres fly fast whilst we embrace:,^ 
 
 But when we want their helpe to meet, 
 
 They move witl;i leaden feet. 
 NiM. Then let us pjnion time, and chacc 
 The day for ever from thisj place. 30, 
 
 SHEPHERD. 
 
 Harke! Nim. Ah me, stay '.- Shep. Forever. 
 NiM. No, arise ; 
 We must begone. Shep. My nest of spice. 
 Nim. My soule. ^Shep. My Paradise. 
 Cho. Neither could sav farewell, but through 
 
 theic eves 
 Griefe interrupted speechwith tears supplies. 
 
 V. 26. T/ie tctngcd houres.] Thus in G. Fletcher's ChrisCs 
 Victory y st. 22- 
 
 " Tlie swift-winged houis." 
 
 (. 28. They move tcith /earfcn/et'f.] Milton. '^'' ""
 
 46 
 
 RED AND WHITE ROSES.* 
 
 Reade in these Roses the' sad story 
 
 Of my hard fate, and your own glory. 
 
 In the White you may discover 
 
 The palenesse of a fainting Lover j 
 
 In the Red, the flames still feeding 9 
 
 On my heart with fresh wounds bleeding. 
 
 The White will tell you how I languish 
 
 And the Red expresse my anguish: 
 
 The White my innocence displaying. 
 
 The Red my martyrdome betraying, 10 
 
 The frownes that on your brow resided. 
 
 Have those Roses thus divided ; 
 
 Oh ! let your smiles but clear the weather. 
 
 And then they both shall grow together. 
 
 * A learned friend has informed me that this is an lAtitatiott 
 of Bonefouius.
 
 47 
 
 THE ENQUIRY. 
 
 Amongst the myrtles as I walkt. 
 Love and my sighes thus intertalkt: 
 Tell me (said I, in deep distresse,) 
 Where may I find my shepherdesse ? 
 
 Thou foole (said Love), knowst thou oot this, 5 
 In every thing that's good she is ? 
 In yonder tuHp, goe and seeke. 
 There maist find her lip, her cheeke. 
 
 * This piece, and the Primrose, hare been inserted in 
 Herrick's Hesperides, 1647 ; and an acute critic (Doctor 
 Drake) has contended for their being his property. But not 
 to argue on the internal evidence, it will only be necessary to 
 consider, that both bad been published as Carew's, seven years 
 previous. Hen-ick could not be ignorant of that circum* 
 stance, and therefore would have noticed it, had they beea 
 his own productions. He probably only borrowed tbcnt 
 no unusnal occurrence in tliat a^^e.
 
 48 
 
 In yon enammerd pansie by, 
 
 There thou shall have her curious eye. 10 
 
 In bloome of peach,, in rosie bud, 
 
 There wave the streamers of her blood. 
 
 In brightest lillies that there stands. 
 The emblems ojf her whiter hands. A 
 
 In yonder rising hill there smeJs ,: ;u:k .'AjSII 
 Such sweets as in her bosome dwQJs. . . f* '* ,T 
 
 *Tis true (said I) : and thereupon 
 
 I went, to pluck them one by one. 
 
 To make of parts a ijnion ; 
 
 But on a suddaine ajl was gone. 2a 
 
 With that I stopt : said Love, fThescbe ' 
 
 (Fond man) resemblances of thee : 
 
 Aildj''Mt'htse flcivvVes, "thy'jdyes ^hall diie. 
 
 Even ji(B the twinkling of an, eye;. 
 
 And all th)<'hopes of her shall wither, 25 
 Like these shpr(j.^MyegfS;,OiVS,!R^'' together. 
 
 f. 9. fn tfonx-GtamweTd pansie by, &c.] Thus Milion, 
 Lycida-iy v. 144.
 
 49 
 
 THE PRIMROSE. 
 
 AsKE me why I send you here 
 This firstling of the infant yeare j 
 Aske me why I send to you 
 This Primrose all bepeari'd with dew ; 
 
 V. 2. T/iisJirstling nf the infant yeare.^ The early birth and 
 short-liv'd bloom of the primrose is a favorite subject with 
 our elder poets. 
 
 Milton, Lycidas, 142. 
 
 *' Bring the rathe primrose that foi>sakcn dies.'* 
 
 Ode on the Death of a fair Infant, 2. 
 
 *' Soft silken primrose, fading timelessly.*' 
 
 Ode on May Mornings 4. 
 
 " and the pale primrose." 
 
 Sh!ikspeare, Winter's Tale, act ir. sc. 5. 
 
 " pale primroses 
 
 '* That die unmarried." 
 
 Cymheline, act iv. sc. 3. 
 
 ** The flower, that's like thy face, pale primrose." 
 
 0.4 Primrose all bepcai'l'd with dew.] Fletcher, 
 
 Piscatory Eclogues. E. vii. v. 5. 
 
 " Her weeping eyes in pearled dew she steeps." 
 
 M
 
 50 
 
 I strait will whisper in your eares, 5 
 
 The sweets of Love are vvasbt with teares r 
 Aske me why this flow'r doth show 
 So yellow^ green, and sickly too ', 
 
 Milton, Par. Lost, b. v. 746. 
 
 " dew drops, which the sun 
 
 " Impearls on every leaf and every fiavcer!* 
 
 Spenser, Faer. Q. b. iv. c, 5, 45. 
 
 " With pearly dew sprinkling the morning grossed" 
 
 Sylvester's Du Bartas, p. 70, ed. 162 1. 
 
 " the flowry mead$ 
 
 ** ImpearPd with tears." 
 
 Drayton, Sonnet 53. Poems, 12mo. (circ l630). 
 
 " the daintie dew impearled Qoviets,'^ 
 
 Browne, Brit. Past. b. i. s. 2. 
 
 ** Next morn with pearls of dew bed^xsks our plains," 
 
 G. Fletcher's Triumph on Earth, st. 42. 
 
 " theround sparks of dew, 
 
 ** That hung upon their azure leaves, did show 
 *' Like twinkling stars." 
 
 Mason too has " each dewy-spangled Jawret.^ 
 
 Elfrida in Poems, ed. 1770, p. 78. 
 
 Pope's Autumn, Past. 3. 
 
 " fallinj; dews with spangles deck'd the glade."
 
 51 
 
 Aske me why the stalk is weak. 
 
 And bending, yet it doth not break ; 10 
 
 I must tell you, these discover 
 
 What doubts and fears are in a Lover, 
 
 X
 
 52 
 
 THE PROTESTATION. 
 
 A SONNET. 
 
 No more shall meads be deckt with flowers, 
 Nor sweetnesse dwell in rosie bowers; 
 
 V. 1 meads be deckt wit h ^oJcer*.] So Daniel, 
 
 Ode to Delia. 
 
 " the earth, oiir common mother, 
 
 '* Hath her bosom deck'd with fiow''rs7' 
 
 Spenser, Prothalamion. 
 '' Aud all the meades adornd with daintie gemmes." 
 
 Ruins of Time, 
 
 *' dtckt with daintie ^ouTCJ.*' 
 
 Sylvester's Bethuluyi^s Rescue, in Poeiiis, l6/4, l6mo. p. lig. 
 
 " lu May, the tneads are not so pt/'d with Jaw ers,'' &c. 
 Milton, VAllegro, 75. 
 
 " Meadows trim with daisies pied.'" 
 Mason's Elfrida, Poems, ed. 1779, p. 75. 
 
 " the /Uiw^ bciprinkkd loxcn" 
 
 Little's (IMoore) Poems, ed. ist5, p. 96. 
 
 *' Yihacftowrtts dtck the greca earth's breast."
 
 53 
 
 Nor greenest biids on branches spring. 
 
 Nor warbling birds delight to sing ; 
 
 Nor Aprill violets paint the grove; 5 
 
 If I forsake my Celia's love. 
 
 The fish shall in the ocean burne, 
 
 And fountaines sweet shall bitter turne ; 
 
 The humble oake no flood shall know. 
 
 When floods shall highest hils oreflow; 10 
 
 Black Laethe shall oblivion leave; 
 
 If ere my Celia I deceive. 
 
 V. 4. Nor warbling birds delight to sing.^ Pope, Autunm, 
 Past. 3. 
 
 " The birds shall cease to tune their evenivg song, 
 
 *' The winds to breathe, the waving woods to nnove, 
 
 " And streams to murmur, ere I cease to love." 
 
 r. 5. ^or ^/>ri/^ violets paint /Ae^oce.] Compare Milton, 
 Par. Lost, b. iv. 700. 
 
 " Under foot the violet, 
 
 ** Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay, 
 * Broider'd the ground." 
 
 Comus, 233. 
 " And in the violet-embrmderd vale.'' 
 
 V. 11. Black 'Lxthe shall oblivion leaie.}^ Lethe, well known 
 as the river of oblirioa ia the Heuthea Mythology, has
 
 54 
 
 Love shall his bow and shaft lay by. 
 
 And Venus Doves want wings to fly j 
 
 The Sun refuse to shew his light, IS 
 
 And day shall then be tum'd to night, 
 
 And in that night no starre appear ; 
 
 If once I leave my Celia deare. 
 
 Love shall no more inhabit earth. 
 
 Nor Lovers more shall love for worth j 20 
 
 Nor joy above in heaven dwell. 
 
 Nor paine torment poore soules in hell ; 
 
 Grim death no more shall horrid prove ; 
 
 If ere I leave bright Celia' s love. * 
 
 been beautifully described by Milton, Par. LosU b. it. 
 
 583- 
 
 " a slow and silent stream 
 
 *' Lethe, the rirer of oblivion, rolls 
 *' Her watry labyrinth, whereof who drinks 
 ** Forthwith his former state and being forgets, 
 ** Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain." 
 
 * Thei*e is a great similarity between this ** Sonnet'* and a 
 Poem by E. S. in The I'aradise of dayntie Devises, 1576, p. 46. 
 That part which more immediately relates to the subject, I 
 
 extract.
 
 55 
 
 ** The grasc me thinkes should g:rowe in skit: 
 " The starrcs unto the yearth cleave faste : 
 " The water streame should passe awrie, 
 " The winds should leve their stregt of blast. 
 " The Sonne and Moone, by one assent, 
 " Should both forsake the firmament. 
 
 " The fishe in ayer should flie with finue, 
 ** The foules in floud should bryng forth fry, 
 " All thyngs me thinks should erst beginne 
 " To take their course unnaturally : 
 " Afore my frende should alter so, 
 " Without a cause to bee my foe." 
 
 At p. 62, a Poem, by M . Edwaixls. 
 ** Tlie fire shall freese, the frost shall frie, the frozen 
 
 mountains hie; 
 " What strange thiugcs shall dame Mature force to tunw 
 
 her course awrie. 
 " My ladie hath me left and taken a ncwe man."
 
 56 
 
 THE DART. 
 
 Oft when I looke, I may descry 
 A little face peepe through that eye ; 
 Sure that's the Boy, which wisely chos/s 
 His throne among such beames as those. 
 Which if his quiver chance to fall. 
 May serve for darts to kill withall.
 
 m 
 
 UPON A MOLE IN CELIA's BOSOME. 
 
 That lovely spot which thou dost see 
 
 In Celia's bosome, was a Bee, 
 
 Who built her amorous spicy nest 
 
 I' th' hyblas of her either breast ; 
 
 But, from close ivery hyves, she flew i 
 
 To suck the aromatick dew 
 
 Which from the neighbour vale distils. 
 
 Which parts those two twin sister hils ; 
 
 There feasting on arabrosiall meat, 
 
 A rowling file of balmy sweat 10 
 
 (As in soft murmurs, before death. 
 
 Swan-like she sung) chokt up her breath, 
 
 V.3 amorous spicy nest.] See t\ie Pastoral Diaiogutf 
 
 T. 33. 
 
 *' My nest of spice." 
 
 r. lit As in sqfl murmtarSf before death 
 
 Swan-like she fung."] Than Gorges' Sonnet in TodcTl 
 ^fe qf Spenser, p. 89. 
 
 *' So BJDgs the swann, when life is taking flight."
 
 58 
 
 So she in water did expire. 
 
 More precious than the Phoenix fire ; 
 
 Yet still her shaddow there remaines 15 
 
 Confind to those Elyzian plaines ; 
 
 With this strict law, that who shall lay 
 
 His bold lips on that milky way. 
 
 The sweet and smart, from thence shall bring 
 
 Of the Bees honey and her sting. 20 
 
 ' Browne, Brit. Past', b. ii. s. 5. 
 
 " as a dying swan that sadly sings 
 
 " Her moaneful dirge unto the silver springs." 
 
 Poems to the Memory qf Ethn, Waller, Esq, l68S. 
 
 ** Now, in soft notes, like dying swans, he'd sing." 
 
 P, Fletcher's Purple Island, c. i . st. 30. 
 
 " The dying swan, when years her temples pierce, 
 *' In music's strains hreathes out her life and rerse, 
 " And chanting her own dirge, tides on her wdtry herM.^' 
 
 G. Fletcher's Triumph over Death, st. 1. 
 ** So down the silver streams of Eridan, 
 " On eitlier side bankt with a lily wall, 
 *' Whiter than both, rides the triumphant 5Wan, 
 " And sings his dirge, and prophecies his fall, 
 ,';:: * Diviijg into his watry faneral." 
 
 Spenser's Elegy on Sir Philip Sidney. 
 " The svsa that siogs about to die."
 
 Bescrtpttbe.
 
 ^^ccijrtitje. 
 
 THE SPRING. 
 
 Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost 
 Her snow-white robes, and now no more the 
 
 frost 
 Candies the grass, or casts an icy cream 
 Upon the silver lake, or chrystal stream : 4 
 
 V. 1. Now that the winter's gotUf &c.] Spenser's Shepherd's 
 Cal. March. 
 
 " pleasant Spring appeareth, 
 
 " The grasse now gins to be rcfresht : 
 " The swallow peeps out of her nest." 
 
 v,2 and now no more the frost 
 
 Candies the grass.] This beautiful idea seems closely 
 imitated from Draytou. See his Quest qf Cynthia, iu poems, 
 4to. 1627, P- 137. 
 
 '* Since when those frostt that winter brings^ 
 Which candy every greer^e-" 
 
 Compare also Browne's Brit. Past. b. i. s. 4. 
 " And hoaried yroff J had candied all the plaint."
 
 62 
 
 But the warm Sun thaws the benummed earth. 
 And makes it tender, gives a sacred birth 
 To the dead swallow, wakes in hollow tree 
 The drowsy cuckow and the humble bee. 
 ^ow do a quire of chirping minstrels bring 
 In triumph to the world, the youthful spring j 10 
 The vallies, hills, and woods, in rich array. 
 Welcome the coming of the long'd-for May. 
 
 11. TVie vallies, bills, andvrooda, in richartcu/, 
 
 Welcome the coming of the long'd-for May.] Tbus 
 Chaucer, Knight'' s Tale, v. 1511. 
 
 " O Maye, with all thy flourcs and thy grenty 
 " Right tt'e/cowie be thou, faire frcshe May.'^ 
 
 Milton, Ode on May Morning, 3. 
 
 ** The ^owery May, who from her green lap throws 
 " The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose." 
 
 V. 5. 
 
 " Hail, bounteons May, that dost inspire 
 * Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; 
 " TVoods and groves are of thy dressings, 
 " Hill, and dale, doth boast thy blessing !" 
 
 Spenser, Faerie Queene, h.vM.CJ, 34. . 
 " Then came faire May, tlie fayrest Mayd on groam), 
 " Deckt all with dainties of her seasons pryde, 
 *' And throwing JlQwres out of her lap around."
 
 63 
 
 Now all things siolle; only my Love doth low'r: 
 Nor hath the scalding noon-day-sun the pow'r 
 To melt that marble ice, which still doth hold 15 
 Her heart congeal'd, and makes her pity cold. 
 The ox, which lately did for shelter fly 
 Into the stall, doth now securely lie 
 In open fields : and love no more is made 
 By the fire-side ; but in the cooler shade 20 
 Amyntas now doth with his Chloris sleep 
 Under a sycamore, and all things keep 
 Time with the season ; only she doth carry 
 June in her eyes, in her heart January. 
 
 But more especially consult The Paradise of dayntle Deviser 
 Isted. 1576; of which collection the second poem is ' il/, 
 Edwardes May" and in the edit, of 1580, there is " A Replit 
 to M. Edwards May," by M. S. [Sackviile.] 
 
 Dolamt/'s Prmrose, by John Reynolds, 4to. 1606. 
 " When jffowring May had, with her morning deawcs. 
 " Watred the meadowes and the valliei greene, 
 * The tender lambcs with nimble footed eawes, 
 " Came forth to meete the wanton Sommcrs queene. 
 * The lively kidds came with the little fawncs, 
 ** Tripping with speed vcp the pleasant lawnes," &cV
 
 64 
 
 TO SAXHAM. 
 
 Though frost and snow lockt from mine eye* 
 
 That beauty which without dore lyes ; 
 
 The gardens, orchards, walkes, that so 
 
 I might not all thy pleasures know ; 
 
 Yet (Saxham) thou, within thy gate, ^ 
 
 Art of thy selfe so delicate. 
 
 So full of native sweets, that bless 
 
 Thy roofe with inward happinesse; 
 
 As neither from, nor to thy store. 
 
 Wilder takes ought, or Spring adds more. 10 
 
 The cold and frozen ayre had sterv'd 
 
 Much poore, if not by thee preserv'd ; 
 
 Whose prayers have niade thy Table blest 
 
 With plenty, far above the rest. 
 
 The season hardly did afford 15 
 
 Coarse cates unto thy neighbour's board, 
 
 . 16. Coarse cates unto thy Tieighbour'f board.'} Cates is here 
 vsed, in au enlarged sense, for food j but it generally implie*
 
 65 
 
 Yet thou hadst daintieB, as the sky 
 
 Had only been thy volarie j 
 
 Or else the birds, fearing the snow. 
 
 Might to another deluge grow, 20 
 
 The Pheasant, Partridge, and the Larke, 
 
 Flew to thy house, &s to the Arko. 
 
 The wiljing Oxa of himself caine 
 
 Home to the slaughter, with the J^arnbCi 
 
 And every beast did thither briog 93 
 
 Himseife to be an offering, 
 
 The scalie herd more pleasjwr^ tool^p, 
 
 Bath'd ia thy dish, then m the brooke. 
 
 Water, Earth, Ayre, did all conspire 
 
 To pay their tributes to thy fire J 30 
 
 Whose cherishing flames ihefflBelves divide 
 
 Thro' every roome, where they deride 
 
 The night, and cold abroad ; whilst they 
 
 Like Suns within, keep endlesse day. 
 
 that kind ly of s luKuriou? iiatui, as in I^Iiltoii, Par. 
 
 Reg. h. ii- 348. 
 
 ** AIm! liOMT siiuplc, to tlvec p^es .conip^''i!, 
 ** Was that crude apple that ilivcrted Evp."
 
 66 
 
 Those chcarfull beames send forth their hght, 35 
 
 To all that wander in the night. 
 
 And seeme to beckon from aloofe 
 
 The weary Pilgrim to thy roofe ; 
 
 Where, if refresht, he will away. 
 
 He's fairly welcome ; or, if stay, 40 
 
 Farre more, which he shall hearty find. 
 
 Both from the Master and the Hinde. 
 
 The stranger's welcome each man there 
 
 Stamp'd on his chcarfull brow doth weare ; 
 
 Nor doth this welcome, or his cheere, 45 
 
 Grow less, 'cause he stayes longer here. 
 
 There's none observes (much less repines) 
 
 How often this man sups or dines. 
 
 Thou hast no porter at the doore 
 
 T' examine or keepe back the poore ; 50 
 
 . 49 and the Hinde.] Hind formerly was 
 
 the term for a servant, as in Sbakspeare's Merry Wives qf 
 Windsor, act iii- sc. 5, " A couple of Ford's knaves, his 
 hinds, were called forth by their mistress, to carry me in the 
 name of foul clothes to Datchet-lane." It is derived from 
 the Saxon hine, famulus, sercus. Douglas' Virgii. Hynis, 
 hinds, servants^ &c.
 
 67 
 
 Nor locks nor bolts; thy gates have beene 
 
 Made only to let strangers in ; 
 
 Untaught to shut, thej do not feare 
 
 To stand wide open all the yeare ; 
 
 Carelesse who enters, for they know 55 
 
 Thou never didst deserve a foe ; 
 
 And as for theeves, thy bountie's such. 
 
 They cannot steale^ thou giv'st so much. 
 
 F 2
 
 6& 
 
 TO MY FRIEND G. N. FROM WREST 
 
 I BREATHE (swect Ghib) the temperate ayre of 
 
 Wrest, 
 Where I lio more with raging stormes opprestj 
 Weare the cold nights out by the banke of 
 
 Tweed, 
 On the bleake mountains where fierce tempests 
 
 breed. 
 And everlasting Winter dwels; where milde 5 
 Favonius, and the Vernall winds, exil'd. 
 Did never spread their wings; but the wild 
 
 North 
 Brings sterill Fearne, Thistles, and Brambles 
 
 forth. 
 Here, steep'd in balmy dew, the pregnant earth 
 Sends from her teeming wombe a flowrie birth ; 
 And cherisht with the warme Suns quickning 
 
 hcate, 1 1 
 
 Her porous bosome doth rich odours sweat;
 
 69 
 
 Whose perfumes through the ambient ayre diffuse 
 
 Such native aromatiques, as we use 
 
 No forraigne gums, nor essence fetcht from 
 
 farre, 1 5 
 
 No volatile spirits, nor compounds that are 
 Adulterate ; but, at Natures cheape expence. 
 With farre more genuine sweets refresh the 
 
 sense. 
 Such pure and uncompounded beauties, bless 
 This mansion with an usefuil comclinesse 20 
 Devoid of art ; for here the architect 
 Did not with curious skill a pile erect 
 Of carved marble, touch, or porphyry. 
 But built a house for hospitality. 24 
 
 No sumptuous chinmey-peece of shining stone 
 Invites the strangers eye to gaze upon, 
 And coldly entertaines his sight ; but clcare 
 And checrfull flames, cherish and warmc him 
 
 here. 
 
 * 15 ainbient at/re-'\ ^Thus Milton, Par. Lost, 
 
 h. vij. 89. 
 
 *' the ambient ah w idc i atcrfus^d 
 
 " Embracing rouud thisilurid caith."
 
 7# 
 
 No Dorique, nor Corinthian pillars grace 
 "With Imagery this structures naked face : 30 
 The Lord and Lady of this place delight 
 Rather to be in act, than seeme, in sight. 
 Instead of Statues to adorne their Wall, 
 They throng with living men their merry hall. 
 Where, at large tables fill'd with wholsome 
 
 meats, -^Pfus 35 
 
 The servant, tenant, and kind neighbour eats : 
 Some of that ranke, spun of a finer thread, 
 Are with the women, steward, and chaplaine 
 
 fed 
 With daintier cates ; others of better note. 
 Whom wealth, parts, office, or the heralds coat 
 Have sever'd from the common, freely sit 40 
 At the Lords table, whose spread sides admit 
 A large acresse of friends to fill those seats 
 Of his capacious sickle, fill'd with meats 
 
 t.44 Jiirdwilh meats 
 
 Of choycest relish, till his oaken back 
 Under the load o,/" pil'd-up dishes crack.'] Compare 
 ]Miltou, Par. Reg. b. ii. 341. 
 
 " With dishes pil'dy aud meats of nMest sort 
 " And savour.^'
 
 71 
 
 Of choycest relish, till his oaken back 45 
 
 Under the load of pil'd-up dishes crack. 
 Nor think, because our piramids, and high 
 Exalted turrets threaten not the sky. 
 That therefore Wrest of narrownesse complaines. 
 Or streightned walls; for she more numerous 
 
 trains 50 
 
 Of noble guests daily receives, and those 
 Can with farre more conveniencie dispose. 
 Than prouder piles, where the vaine -builder 
 
 spent 
 More cost in outward gay embellishment 
 Than reall use ; which was the sole designc 55 
 Of our contriver, who made things not fine. 
 But fit for service. Amallhea's home 
 Of plenty is not in effigic worne 
 
 V. 57 Amaltheashorne 
 
 Of plenty ] Amalthea, in tli 
 
 Heathen Mythology, is the daughter of Melissux, King of 
 Crcie, and nurse of Jupiter, from whom she received a goat's 
 horn, whicli had (he power of supplying her wishes, and 
 from thence called Cornucopia^ or horn of plenty (sec Orid). 
 Thus Milton, Par. Reg. ii. 356. 
 
 '* Fruits and flowers from Amalthea*8 hora."
 
 72 
 
 Without the gate, but she within the (lore 
 Empties her free and unexhausted store J 60 
 Nor crown 'd with wheaten wreathe* doth Ceres 
 
 stand 
 In stone, with a crook'd sickle in her hand : 
 Nor on a marble tunnc, his face besmear'd 
 With grapes, is curl'd uncizard Bacchus rear'd. 
 Wc offer not in emblemes, to the eyes, 6J 
 
 But to the taste those useful deities : 
 We prcsse the juicie God, and quafFe his blood, 
 And grind the yellow Gocklesse into food. 
 Yet we decline not all the vrorke of Art ; 69 
 JBut where more bounteous Nature bears a part, 
 
 r. 6l. Ceres.] Ceres, in the Heathen Mythology, is tbt^ 
 Gotldcsa of corn and harvests. 
 
 f. 64 atrrd uncizard Bacchus'] Vncixard, pro 
 
 hably, is the old orthography for unschsar'ti, and rlerived from 
 the Latin, inc'uloy to cut oft". The same word is to he found 
 tit his Elegy on Br. Donne, v. 5. 
 
 " Such as th' uncieard lectrtr ft'om the Sovi^tr 
 " Of fading rhetorick." 
 
 t'. Gs theyellow Goddesse.^ Cevea has geucral(.j 
 
 the epithet of yeiUtw, in allusioa to ripe CQrn.
 
 73 
 
 And guides her handmaid, if she but dispence 
 Fit matter, she with car^ and diligence 
 Employes her skill j for where the neighbour 
 
 sourse 
 Powers forth her waters, she directs her course^ 
 And entertaines the flowing streames in deepe 75 
 And spacious channels, where they slowly creepa 
 In snaky windings, as the shelving ground 
 Leads them in circles, till they twice surround 
 This island Mansion, which, i* th' centre plac'd. 
 Is with a double Crystal heaven embrac'dj 60 
 In which our watery constellations floate. 
 Our fishes, swans, our waterman and boat, 
 
 . 74 she directs her course. 
 
 And entertaines thejloiciug streames in decpe 
 And spacious channels, ivkerc they slowli/ creepe 
 In tnaki/ vcindimis, as the shelving ground 
 Lends them in circles, till they tuice surrmnd 
 
 This island Mansion ...] P. rietchcr"* 
 
 Purple Island, c. ii. st. 9. 
 
 .. " for tbnnsand brooks 
 
 *' In uure channels glide on silver sand 
 
 " Their serpent windings, and deceiving crook* 
 
 ** Circling afumty vaA watering all the plain."
 
 74 
 
 Envy'd by those above, which wish to slake 
 Their starre-burnt limbs in our refreshing lake ; 
 But they stick fast, nayled to the barren sphcare. 
 Whilst our encrease in fertile waters here 86 
 Disport, and wander freely where they please 
 Within the circuit of our narrow seas. 
 With various trees we fringe the water's brinke. 
 Whose thirsty roots the soaking moysture drinke. 
 And whose extended boughes in equal rankes 91 
 Yield fruit, and shade, and beauty to the banks. 
 On this side young Vertumnus sits, and courts 
 His ruddy-cheek'd Pomona ; Zephyre sports 
 
 . 93. On this side young ycrlamaus, &c] Vertumnus was 
 the God of tradesmen, and had the power of taking any 
 shape. His courtship of Pomona forms one of Ovid's Hfet. 
 In the disguise of an old woman, he visited her gardens, and, 
 after artfully praising the fruit, insinuated the pleasure of a 
 married life. Pomona heard hira with indifference, having 
 already refused Pan, Priapus, and Silenus ; but when Ver- 
 tumuuB assumed the appearance of youth, the Goddess could 
 no longer i-esist the beauties of his person. Zephyr, the son 
 of Aurora, is represented as presiding over fruits and flowers, 
 and married Flora, the Goddess of flowers; thus alluded to 
 by Milton, Par, Lost, h.r. 16. 
 
 " Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes," 
 Lycidas, 19. 
 
 ** Zephyr with Aurora playing."
 
 73 
 
 On th' other, with lov'd Flora, yeelding there 95 
 Sweets for the smell, sweets for the palate here. 
 But did you taste the high and mighty drinke 
 Which from that fountaine flows, yould thinke 
 The God of wine did his plumpe clusters bring. 
 And crush the Faleme grape into our spring; 
 Or else, disguis'd in watery robes did swim 101 
 To Ceres bed, and make her big of him. 
 Begetting so himselfe on her : for know 
 Our vintage here in March doth nothing owe 
 To theirs in Autumne ; but our fire boyles here 
 As lusty liquor as the sun makes there. 106 
 Thus I enjoy myselfe, and taste the fruit 
 Of this blest place ; whilst, toyl'd in the pursuit 
 Of bucks and stags, th' embleme of warre you 
 
 strive 
 To keepe the memory of our armes alive. IIQ.
 
 Clesiac,
 
 oJIfjiac. 
 
 EPITAPH ON THE LADY MARY VILLERS.* 
 
 The Lady Mary Villers lies 
 
 Under this stone : with weeping eyes 
 
 TTie parents that first gave her birth 
 
 And their sad friends, lay'd her in earth. 
 
 If any of them (Reader) were 5 
 
 Knowne unto thee, shed a teare, 
 
 Or if thyselfc possesse a gemrae. 
 
 As dearc to thee as this to them j 
 
 Though a stranger to this place, 
 
 Bewayle in theirs, thine own hard case ; 10 
 
 For thou perhaps at thy returne 
 
 Maycst find thy darling in an ume. 
 
 * In his epitaph on Lady Mary VtUers^ be is eminently 
 pathetic. Anderson.
 
 80 
 
 ANOTHER, 
 
 *Fhis^ little vault, this narrow roome, ^.TlS^i 
 Of Love and Beauty is the tombe ; 
 The dawning beame, that gan to cleare 
 Our clouded sky, lyes darkened here. 
 For ever set to us by death: ' ''^''''' ^'"' 5 
 
 Sent to inflame the world beneath ; ^^o^i'^ ^^'"^ 
 ^Twas but ai b\id, yet did contains 
 ^ore sweetnesse thai! shall spring againej 
 A budding Stafre, that might have growric *' 
 Into a Sun, when it had blowne : ' - ("^ ^' t6 
 This hopeful] Beauty did create "^ ''^^^^' ''^ 
 New life in Love's declining state 3 ' " 
 
 But now his empire ends, and ^*e " ''* 
 From fire and wounding darts are frefe;'^*' ' ' ' 
 His briind, his bow, let no man feare; 15 
 
 The flames, the arrovi'cs, all lye here.
 
 epistolatp.
 
 ^(:':r;*';'r-"Tr ''''
 
 4Sjii,$toIatp 
 
 UPON MASTER W. MOUNTAGUE HIS 
 RETURNE FROM TRAY ELL. 
 
 Leade the black bull to slaughter, with the bore 
 And lambe, then purple with their nungled gore 
 The oceans curled brow, that so we may 
 The Sea- Gods for their careful wastage pay : 
 Send grateful Incense up in pious smoake 5 
 To those mild Spirits that cast a curbing yoake 
 Upon the stubbornc winds, that calmely blew 
 To the wisht shore our long'd-for Mountague. 
 Then, whilst the Aromatique odours bume 
 In honour of their Darlings safe returne, 10 
 
 V. 3. The oceans curled 6rc.] So Browne's Brit. Past. b. i, 
 8. 5. 
 
 " curled stream.^' 
 
 G 2
 
 84 
 
 The Muse's quire shall thus with voyce and hand 
 
 Bless the faire gale that drove his ship to land. 
 Sweetly-breathing vemall Ayre, 
 That with kind warmth doest repayre 
 Winter's ruines; from whose breast 15 
 All the gums and spice of th' East 
 Borrow their perfumes ; whose eye 
 Guilds the morn, and cleares the sky ; 
 Whose dishevel'd tresses shed 
 
 Lfoii Pearles upon the violet bed ; 20 
 
 oioy tfji < 
 
 V 13. Sweetly -breathing vemall Ayre, 
 
 That with kind warmthy &c.] Compare Milton, Par, 
 Lost, b. iv. 156. 
 
 i.. ......'. " Now gentle gales, 
 
 " Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense 
 
 " Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
 
 "Those balmy spoils." 
 
 .'^;..'i..u...... I. 264. 
 
 " airs, vernal airs, 
 
 " Breathing the smell of field and grove." 
 
 v.. 18. Gnildi the mom.} ^Thus Pope's il/cswa/;, v. 99. 
 " No more the rising Sun shall gild the wjor." 
 
 V. 20. Pearles upon the violet W.] See Note on " The 
 
 Primrose,''*
 
 85 
 
 On whose brow, with cahne smiles tlrest, 
 The Halcion sits and builds her nest; 
 Beauty, Youth, and endlesse Spring, 
 Dwell upon thy rosie wing. 
 Thou, if stormy Boreas throwes 25 
 
 Dounc whole Forrcsts when he blowes, 
 
 V. 21. On whose brow, with calme smiles drest, 
 
 T/ie Halcion sits and builds her nest."] So in Browne's 
 Brit, Past. b. ii. s. I. 
 
 '* As smooth as when the Halcyon builds her nest." 
 
 The best account of this popular belief respecting the 
 King Fisher, that I have ever redde in any old work, I here 
 extract from Mclanchtoh's Dedicator;/ Epistle to the Duke of 
 Savoy, prefixed to Joyc's Exposicion qf' Daniel the Prophetc, ist 
 edit. Geneve, 1545. 
 
 " For thci sayc that in the most sharpe and coldest tymc 
 of the yere, these haicions making their nestis in the sea 
 rockis or sandis, will sittc their egges and hatche forth their 
 chikens. And therfore the same sea that harbourcth these 
 fowles thus sitting vpon their eggcs, wil be so cawmc and 
 still to her geistis for 14 daycs, that men may scworly sayl 
 without perel vpon her, not shaken nor molested with any 
 storme or tempeste, nor yet the nestis of theis birdcs so 
 nighe the water not once shaken nor hurt with any sourges. 
 For the seas wil not for that tyme of these birdis sitting and 
 hatching, decease her geistis. And therfore is this tran- 
 quilitc of the sea for that litle tyme as a trwce taking in the 
 winter, called the haicions dayes "
 
 86 
 
 With a pregnant flowery birth 
 
 Canst refresh the teeming earth : 
 
 If he nip the early bud, . . . 
 
 If he blast what's fayre or good, 30 
 
 If hee scatter our choyce flowers. 
 
 If he shake our hils or bowers. 
 
 If his rude breath threaten us ; 
 
 Thou canst stroake great ^olus. 
 
 And from him the grace obtaine 35 
 
 To bind him in an iron chaine. 
 
 Thus, whilst you deale your body 'mongst your 
 friends. 
 
 And fill their circling armes, my glad soule sends 
 
 This her embrace : thus wee of Delphos greet; 
 
 As lay-men clasp their hands, we joyne our 
 ' feet. 40 
 
 e. 34 stroake great JEolus.] Stroake, to sootli, 
 
 as in Bacon's Henry Tth; Works, ed. 1765, vol. iii. p, 85, 
 * There he set forth a new proclamation, stroking the people 
 with fair promises."
 
 87 
 
 TO MY WORTHY FRIEND, 
 
 MASTER GEORGE SANDS,* 
 
 ON HIS TRANSLATION OF THE PSALMS. 
 
 > 
 
 I PRESSE not to the quire, nor dare 1 greet 
 The holy place with my unhallowed feet ; 
 My unvvasht Muse polutes not things divine. 
 Nor mingles her prophaner notes with thine : 
 Here, humbly at the porch she stayes, 5 
 
 And with glad eares sucks in thy sacred layes. 
 
 * George Sandys whs born at Bishop's Thorp in 1577, the 
 son of F.dwin, Archbishop of York. He entered himself at 
 Mary Hall, Oxon, 1589, but received tuition at Corpus 
 Christi College, Cambridge. In 16 10 he began his travels 
 in the East, of which an account was published in j6lO, 
 Bo much esteemed, that it passed through a number of 
 editions. On his return, he was appointed Gentleman of the 
 Privy Chaml>er to Charles I. and died in l643. 
 
 He translated the Psalms of David, 1636, 12mo. ; Grotius' 
 Christ's Passion, ]640; Job, Ecclcsiustrs, and Lamentations, 
 1638, folio, and 1676, 8vo. ; Solomon's Song, 1G41, 4to. ; 
 and Ovid's Metamorphoses, with 1st book of Virgil's ^ncidj 
 Dryden esteemed him the most harmonious writer of the age.
 
 88 
 
 So, devout penitents of old were wont_, 
 Some without doore, and some beneath the font. 
 To stand and heare the churches liturgies. 
 Yet not assist the solemne exercise : 10 
 
 Sufficeth her, that she a lay-place gaine. 
 To trim thy vestments, or but beare thy traine; 
 Though nor in tune, nor wing, she reach thy 
 : V larke, / ,:* ^p,^,mrt', I 
 
 Her lyrick-feet may dance before the Arke, 
 Who knowes, but that her wandring eyes that 
 
 run, 1 5 
 
 Now hunting glow-wormes, may adore the Sun : 
 A pure flame may, shot by Almighty power 
 Into her brest, the earthy flame devoure : 
 My eyes in penitentiall dew may steepe 
 That brine, which they for sensuall love did 
 
 weepe. , 20 
 
 So (though 'gainst Natures course) fire may be 
 
 quencht 
 With fire, and water be with water drencht ; 
 Perhaps my restlesse soule, tyr'de with pursuit 
 Of mortall beauty, seeking without fruit 24
 
 89 
 
 Contentment there, which hath not, when 
 
 enjoy 'd, 
 Quencht all her thirst, nor satisfi'd, though 
 
 cloy'd ; 
 Weary of her vaine search below, above 
 In the first Faire may find th' immortal love. 
 Prompted by thy example then, no more 
 . In moulds of clay will I my God adore ; 30 
 But teare those idols from my heart, and write 
 What his blest Spirit, not fond Love, shall indite j 
 Then I no more shall court the verdant Bay, 
 But the dry leavelesse trunke on Golgotha; 
 And rather strive to gaine from thence one 
 
 thorne, 35 
 
 Than all the flourishing wreathes by Laureatsi 
 
 worne.
 
 90 
 
 TO MY LORP ADMIRALL *, ON HIS 
 LATE SICKNESSE AND RECOVERY. 
 
 With joy like ours, the Thracian youth Invades 
 Orpheus, returning from th' Elysian shades. 
 Embrace the heroe, and his stay implore. 
 Make it their publike suit he would no more 
 Desert them so, and for his spouses sake, 5 
 His vanish 'd love, tempt the Lethaean lake : 
 The ladies too, the brightest of that time. 
 Ambitious all his lofty bed to climbe. 
 Their doubtfull hopes with expectation feed. 
 Which shall the fair Euridice succeed ; 10 
 
 Euridice, for whom his numerous moan 
 Makes listning trees and savage mountaines 
 groane 
 
 * George Villicrs, DuIjc of Buckingham, the unfortunate 
 favorite of Charles I. who fell by the hands of Felton. It is 
 sometimes unfortunate to be the favorite even of a King.
 
 91 
 
 Through all the ayre, his sounding strings dilate 
 Sorrow like that which touch'd our hearts of 
 
 late; 
 Your pining sicknesse, and your restlesse pain, 
 At once the land affecting, and the mayne. 16 
 When the glad newes, that you were Admirall, 
 Scarce through the nation spread, 'twas fear'd 
 
 by all 
 That our great Charles, whose wlsdome shines 
 
 in you. 
 Should be perplexed how to oh use anew : 20 
 
 V. 1 1. Euridice, far wJtom his numerowt moan 
 
 Makes lutning trees and satage mountains groan 
 Through alt the a^re.] Pope's Ode on St. Cecilia's Day, 
 V. 113. 
 
 " Yet ev'n ia death Eurydice he sung, 
 ** Eurydice still trembled on his tongue, 
 " Eunjdice the woods, 
 " Eurydice the floods, 
 ** Eurydice the rocks, and hollow mountaitu rung." 
 
 f, 19. Our great Charles.] It is to be lamented that Carcw 
 hould have so ill apjj'.ied his panegyric; but the poets of 
 bis time were too much inclined to flatter Princes at the 
 expence of truth. It is only when a Monarch is truly the 
 father of his People, that he deserrcs to be praised by Men of
 
 9^ 
 
 So more then private was the joy and grief, 
 That at the worst it gave our soules reliefe. 
 That in our age such sense of vertue liv'd. 
 They joy'd so justly, and so justly griev'd. 
 
 Genius ; a Tyrant should only have his virtues echoed by a 
 pensioned Laureat. Milton, the glorious boast of Britain 
 and her Sons, knew better the value of Liberty than to laud 
 the greatest subverter of it ; he 
 
 " could contemn 
 
 " Riches, though offer'd from the hand of Kings." 
 
 To some, this note may appear out of place ; but I could 
 not suffer an opportunity to escape of declaiing my abhor- 
 rence of the tyranny of Charles I. I cannot forget that I 
 am a Briton, a native of that 
 
 ...'. "Isle, 
 
 ** The greatest and the best of all the main." 
 
 And to the last hour of my existence I hope to exclaim, 
 
 " England ! with all thy faults, I love thee still 
 
 " My country! and, while yet a nook is left, 
 
 " Where Knglish minds and manners may be found, 
 
 ** Shall lie constrained to love thee. Though thy clime 
 
 " Be fickle, and thy year most part deformed 
 
 " With dripping rains, or withered by a frost, 
 
 *' I would not yet exchange thy sullen skies, 
 
 *' And fields without a flower, for warmer France 
 
 " With all her vines." Cowper.
 
 93 
 
 Nature, her fairest light eclipsed/ seemes 25 
 Herselfe to suffer in these sad extreames ; 
 While not from thine alone ihy blood retires. 
 But from those cheeks which all the world 
 
 admires. 
 The stem thus threatned, and the sap, in thee 
 Droop all the branches of that noble tree; 30 
 Their beauties they, and we our love suspend. 
 Nought can our wishes save thy health intend ; 
 As lillies overcharg'd with rain, they bend 
 Their beauteous heads, and with high Heaven 
 
 contend, 
 
 V. 33. As lillies overcharg'd with rain, they bctid 
 
 Their beauteous heads.] This Ijeautiful simile is to be 
 found in Hoiner, //. book viii. 1. 30(3. Thus in Pope's transl. 
 1. 371. 
 
 " As full-blown poppies overcharg'd with raia 
 
 " Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain." 
 
 1 
 
 Compare also Fletcher, Purp. IsL can. xi. st. 38. 
 " So have I often seen a purple flower, 
 " Fainting thrangh heat, hang down her drooping head." 
 
 p. Fletcher's Eliza^ part ii. st. 6. 
 
 " like fainting flowers oppressed with rain."
 
 94 
 
 Fold thee within their snowy arms, and cry 35 
 He is too faultlesse, and too young to die : 
 So, like immortals, round about thee they 
 Sit, that they fright approaching death away. 
 Who would not languish by so fair a train. 
 To be lamented and restor'd againe ? 40 
 
 Or thus withheld, what hasty soule would go. 
 Though to the blest ? Ore young Adonis so 
 Fair Venus raourn'd, and with the precious 
 
 showre 
 Of her warm tearse cherisht the springing flower. 
 
 Milton, Samp. Agon. 728. 
 
 " but now with head declin'd, 
 
 *' Like a fair flower surcharged with dew." 
 
 Di-yden, Avrengiebe. 
 " Your head declin'd, 
 ** Droops, like a rose surcharg'd with morning dew." 
 
 Carew, however, is the first English poet in whom the 
 idea is to be found. 
 
 1'. 42 Ore young Adonis so 
 
 Fair Venus mourn'd.} ^Tlius Spenser's Momning Mute 
 f Tliesti/lis. 
 
 " Venus when she wuild 
 
 " Her deare Adonis slaine."
 
 95 
 
 The next support, fair hope of your great name. 
 And second pillar of that noble frame, 46 
 
 By losse of thee would no advantage have. 
 But, step l^y step, pursues thee to thy grave. 
 
 And now relentlesse Fate, about to end 49 
 The line, which backward doth so farre extend 
 That antique stock, which still the world supplies 
 With bravest spirits, and with brightest eyes. 
 Kind Phoebus interposing, bade me say. 
 Such stormes no more shall shake that house ; 
 
 but they. 
 Like Neptune and his sea-borne Neece, shall be 
 The shining glories of the Land and Sea, 56 
 With courage guard, and beauty warm our age. 
 And lovers fill wiih like poetique rage*. 
 
 * This Epistle has ben erroneously ascribed to Waller. 
 
 vans, Printer, lirintol.
 
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