Ph. Charon! O gentle Charon! let me woo thee
By tears and pity now to come unto me.
Ch. What voice so sweet and charming do I hear?
Say what thou art. Ph. I prithee first draw near.
Ch. A sound I hear, but nothing yet can see;
Speak, where thou art. Ph. O Charon pity me!
I am a bird, and though no name I tell,
My warbling note will say I'm Philomel.
Ch. What's that to me? I waft nor fish or fowls,
Nor beasts, fond thing, but only human souls.
Ph. Alas for me! Ch. Shame on thy witching note
That made me thus hoist sail and bring my boat:
But I'll return; what mischief brought thee hither?
Ph. A deal of love and much, much grief together.
Ch. What's thy request? Ph. That since she's now beneath
Who fed my life, I'll follow her in death.
Ch. And is that all? I'm gone. Ph. By love I pray thee.
Ch. Talk not of love; all pray, but few souls pay me.
Ph. I'll give thee vows and tears. Ch. Can tears pay scores
For mending sails, for patching boat and oars?
Ph. I'll beg a penny, or I'll sing so long
Till thou shalt say I've paid thee with a song.
Ch. Why then begin; and all the while we make
Our slothful passage o'er the Stygian Lake,
Thou and I'll sing to make these dull shades merry,
Who else with tears would doubtless drown my ferry.
By tears and pity now to come unto me.
Ch. What voice so sweet and charming do I hear?
Say what thou art. Ph. I prithee first draw near.
Ch. A sound I hear, but nothing yet can see;
Speak, where thou art. Ph. O Charon pity me!
I am a bird, and though no name I tell,
My warbling note will say I'm Philomel.
Ch. What's that to me? I waft nor fish or fowls,
Nor beasts, fond thing, but only human souls.
Ph. Alas for me! Ch. Shame on thy witching note
That made me thus hoist sail and bring my boat:
But I'll return; what mischief brought thee hither?
Ph. A deal of love and much, much grief together.
Ch. What's thy request? Ph. That since she's now beneath
Who fed my life, I'll follow her in death.
Ch. And is that all? I'm gone. Ph. By love I pray thee.
Ch. Talk not of love; all pray, but few souls pay me.
Ph. I'll give thee vows and tears. Ch. Can tears pay scores
For mending sails, for patching boat and oars?
Ph. I'll beg a penny, or I'll sing so long
Till thou shalt say I've paid thee with a song.
Ch. Why then begin; and all the while we make
Our slothful passage o'er the Stygian Lake,
Thou and I'll sing to make these dull shades merry,
Who else with tears would doubtless drown my ferry.
Fond, foolish.
She's now beneath, her mother Zeuxippe?
733. A TERNARY OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN
OF JELLY SENT TO A LADY.
A little saint best fits a little shrine,
A little prop best fits a little vine:
As my small cruse best fits my little wine.
A little prop best fits a little vine:
As my small cruse best fits my little wine.
A little seed best fits a little soil,
A little trade best fits a little toil:
As my small jar best fits my little oil.
A little trade best fits a little toil:
As my small jar best fits my little oil.
A little bin best fits a little bread,
A little garland fits a little head:
As my small stuff best fits my little shed.
A little garland fits a little head:
As my small stuff best fits my little shed.
A little hearth best fits a little fire,
A little chapel fits a little choir:
As my small bell best fits my little spire.
A little chapel fits a little choir:
As my small bell best fits my little spire.
A little stream best fits a little boat,
A little lead best fits a little float:
As my small pipe best fits my little note.
A little lead best fits a little float:
As my small pipe best fits my little note.
A little meat best fits a little belly,
As sweetly, lady, give me leave to tell ye,
This little pipkin fits this little jelly.
As sweetly, lady, give me leave to tell ye,
This little pipkin fits this little jelly.
734. UPON THE ROSES IN JULIA'S BOSOM.
Thrice happy roses, so much grac'd to have
Within the bosom of my love your grave.
Die when ye will, your sepulchre is known,
Your grave her bosom is, the lawn the stone.
Within the bosom of my love your grave.
Die when ye will, your sepulchre is known,
Your grave her bosom is, the lawn the stone.
735. MAIDS' NAYS ARE NOTHING.
Maids' nays are nothing, they are shy
But to desire what they deny.
But to desire what they deny.
736. THE SMELL OF THE SACRIFICE.
737. LOVERS: HOW THEY COME AND PART.
A gyges' ring they bear about them still,
To be, and not seen when and where they will.
They tread on clouds, and though they sometimes fall,
They fall like dew, but make no noise at all.
So silently they one to th' other come,
As colours steal into the pear or plum,
And air-like, leave no pression to be seen
Where'er they met or parting place has been.
To be, and not seen when and where they will.
They tread on clouds, and though they sometimes fall,
They fall like dew, but make no noise at all.
So silently they one to th' other come,
As colours steal into the pear or plum,
And air-like, leave no pression to be seen
Where'er they met or parting place has been.
Gyges' ring, which made the wearer invisible.
738. TO WOMEN, TO HIDE THEIR TEETH IF THEY
BE ROTTEN OR RUSTY.
Close keep your lips, if that you mean
To be accounted inside clean:
For if you cleave them we shall see
There in your teeth much leprosy.
To be accounted inside clean:
For if you cleave them we shall see
There in your teeth much leprosy.
739. IN PRAISE OF WOMEN.
O Jupiter, should I speak ill
Of woman-kind, first die I will;
Since that I know, 'mong all the rest
Of creatures, woman is the best.
Of woman-kind, first die I will;
Since that I know, 'mong all the rest
Of creatures, woman is the best.
740. THE APRON OF FLOWERS.
To gather flowers Sappha went,
And homeward she did bring
Within her lawny continent
The treasure of the spring.
And homeward she did bring
Within her lawny continent
The treasure of the spring.
She smiling blush'd, and blushing smil'd,
And sweetly blushing thus,
She look'd as she'd been got with child
By young Favonius.
And sweetly blushing thus,
She look'd as she'd been got with child
By young Favonius.
Her apron gave, as she did pass,
An odour more divine,
More pleasing, too, than ever was
The lap of Proserpine.
An odour more divine,
More pleasing, too, than ever was
The lap of Proserpine.
Continent, anything that holds, here the bosom of her dress.
741. THE CANDOUR OF JULIA'S TEETH.
White as Zenobia's teeth, the which the girls
Of Rome did wear for their most precious pearls.
Of Rome did wear for their most precious pearls.
Zenobia, Queen of Palmyra, conquered by the Romans, a.d. 273.
742. UPON HER WEEPING.
She wept upon her cheeks, and weeping so,
She seem'd to quench love's fire that there did glow.
She seem'd to quench love's fire that there did glow.
743. ANOTHER UPON HER WEEPING.
She by the river sat, and sitting there,
She wept, and made it deeper by a tear.
She wept, and made it deeper by a tear.
744. DELAY.
Break off delay, since we but read of one
That ever prospered by cunctation.
That ever prospered by cunctation.
Cunctation, delay: the word is suggested by the name of Fabius Cunctator, the conqueror of the Carthaginians, addressed by Virg. (Æn. vi. 846) as "Unus qui nobis cunctando restituis rem".
745. TO SIR JOHN BERKLEY, GOVERNOR OF EXETER.
Stand forth, brave man, since fate has made thee here
The Hector over aged Exeter,
Who for a long, sad time has weeping stood
Like a poor lady lost in widowhood,
But fears not now to see her safety sold,
As other towns and cities were, for gold
By those ignoble births which shame the stem
That gave progermination unto them:
Whose restless ghosts shall hear their children sing,
"Our sires betrayed their country and their king".
True, if this city seven times rounded was
With rock, and seven times circumflank'd with brass,
Yet if thou wert not, Berkley, loyal proof,
The senators, down tumbling with the roof,
Would into prais'd, but pitied, ruins fall,
Leaving no show where stood the capitol.
But thou art just and itchless, and dost please
Thy Genius with two strengthening buttresses,
Faith and affection, which will never slip
To weaken this thy great dictatorship.
The Hector over aged Exeter,
Who for a long, sad time has weeping stood
Like a poor lady lost in widowhood,
But fears not now to see her safety sold,
As other towns and cities were, for gold
By those ignoble births which shame the stem
That gave progermination unto them:
Whose restless ghosts shall hear their children sing,
"Our sires betrayed their country and their king".
True, if this city seven times rounded was
With rock, and seven times circumflank'd with brass,
Yet if thou wert not, Berkley, loyal proof,
The senators, down tumbling with the roof,
Would into prais'd, but pitied, ruins fall,
Leaving no show where stood the capitol.
But thou art just and itchless, and dost please
Thy Genius with two strengthening buttresses,
Faith and affection, which will never slip
To weaken this thy great dictatorship.
Progermination, budding out.
Itchless, i.e., with no itch for bribes.
746. TO ELECTRA. LOVE LOOKS FOR LOVE.
Love love begets, then never be
Unsoft to him who's smooth to thee.
Tigers and bears, I've heard some say,
For proffer'd love will love repay:
None are so harsh, but if they find
Softness in others, will be kind;
Affection will affection move,
Then you must like because I love.
Unsoft to him who's smooth to thee.
Tigers and bears, I've heard some say,
For proffer'd love will love repay:
None are so harsh, but if they find
Softness in others, will be kind;
Affection will affection move,
Then you must like because I love.
747. REGRESSION SPOILS RESOLUTION.
Hast thou attempted greatness? then go on:
Back-turning slackens resolution.
Back-turning slackens resolution.
748. CONTENTION.
Discreet and prudent we that discord call
That either profits, or not hurts at all.
That either profits, or not hurts at all.
749. CONSULTATION.
Consult ere thou begin'st; that done, go on
With all wise speed for execution.
With all wise speed for execution.
Consult, take counsel. The word and the epigram are suggested by Sallust's "Nam et, prius quam incipias, consulto, et ubi consulueris, mature facto opus est," Cat. i.
750. LOVE DISLIKES NOTHING.
Whatsoever thing I see,
Rich or poor although it be;
'Tis a mistress unto me.
Rich or poor although it be;
'Tis a mistress unto me.
Be my girl or fair or brown,
Does she smile or does she frown,
Still I write a sweetheart down.
Does she smile or does she frown,
Still I write a sweetheart down.
Be she rough or smooth of skin;
When I touch I then begin
For to let affection in.
When I touch I then begin
For to let affection in.
Be she bald, or does she wear
Locks incurl'd of other hair,
I shall find enchantment there.
Locks incurl'd of other hair,
I shall find enchantment there.
Be she whole, or be she rent,
So my fancy be content,
She's to me most excellent.
So my fancy be content,
She's to me most excellent.
Be she fat, or be she lean,
Be she sluttish, be she clean,
I'm a man for ev'ry scene.
Be she sluttish, be she clean,
I'm a man for ev'ry scene.
751. OUR OWN SINS UNSEEN.
Other men's sins we ever bear in mind;
None sees the fardell of his faults behind.
None sees the fardell of his faults behind.
Fardell, bundle.
752. NO PAINS, NO GAINS.
If little labour, little are our gains:
Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
Man's fortunes are according to his pains.
754. VIRTUE BEST UNITED.
By so much, virtue is the less,
By how much, near to singleness.
By how much, near to singleness.
755. THE EYE.
A wanton and lascivious eye
Betrays the heart's adultery.
Betrays the heart's adultery.
756. TO PRINCE CHARLES UPON HIS COMING TO
EXETER.
What fate decreed, time now has made us see,
A renovation of the west by thee.
That preternatural fever, which did threat
Death to our country, now hath lost his heat,
And, calms succeeding, we perceive no more
Th' unequal pulse to beat, as heretofore.
Something there yet remains for thee to do;
Then reach those ends that thou wast destin'd to.
Go on with Sylla's fortune; let thy fate
Make thee like him, this, that way fortunate:
Apollo's image side with thee to bless
Thy war (discreetly made) with white success.
Meantime thy prophets watch by watch shall pray,
While young Charles fights, and fighting wins the day:
That done, our smooth-paced poems all shall be
Sung in the high doxology of thee.
Then maids shall strew thee, and thy curls from them
Receive with songs a flowery diadem.
A renovation of the west by thee.
That preternatural fever, which did threat
Death to our country, now hath lost his heat,
And, calms succeeding, we perceive no more
Th' unequal pulse to beat, as heretofore.
Something there yet remains for thee to do;
Then reach those ends that thou wast destin'd to.
Go on with Sylla's fortune; let thy fate
Make thee like him, this, that way fortunate:
Apollo's image side with thee to bless
Thy war (discreetly made) with white success.
Meantime thy prophets watch by watch shall pray,
While young Charles fights, and fighting wins the day:
That done, our smooth-paced poems all shall be
Sung in the high doxology of thee.
Then maids shall strew thee, and thy curls from them
Receive with songs a flowery diadem.
Sylla's fortune, in allusion to Sylla's surname of Felix.
Doxology, glorifying.
757. A SONG.
Burn, or drown me, choose ye whether,
So I may but die together;
Thus to slay me by degrees
Is the height of cruelties.
What needs twenty stabs, when one
Strikes me dead as any stone?
O show mercy then, and be
Kind at once to murder me.
So I may but die together;
Thus to slay me by degrees
Is the height of cruelties.
What needs twenty stabs, when one
Strikes me dead as any stone?
O show mercy then, and be
Kind at once to murder me.
758. PRINCES AND FAVOURITES.
Princes and fav'rites are most dear, while they
By giving and receiving hold the play;
But the relation then of both grows poor,
When these can ask, and kings can give no more.
By giving and receiving hold the play;
But the relation then of both grows poor,
When these can ask, and kings can give no more.
759. EXAMPLES; OR, LIKE PRINCE, LIKE PEOPLE.
Examples lead us, and we likely see;
Such as the prince is, will his people be.
Such as the prince is, will his people be.
760. POTENTATES.
Love and the Graces evermore do wait
Upon the man that is a potentate.
Upon the man that is a potentate.
761. THE WAKE.
Come, Anthea, let us two
Go to feast, as others do.
Tarts and custards, creams and cakes,
Are the junkets still at wakes:
Unto which the tribes resort,
Where the business is the sport.
Morris-dancers thou shall see,
Marian, too, in pageantry,
And a mimic to devise
Many grinning properties.
Players there will be, and those
Base in action as in clothes;
Yet with strutting they will please
The incurious villages.
Near the dying of the day
There will be a cudgel-play,
Where a coxcomb will be broke
Ere a good word can be spoke:
But the anger ends all here,
Drenched in ale, or drown'd in beer.
Happy rustics! best content
With the cheapest merriment,
And possess no other fear
Than to want the wake next year.
Go to feast, as others do.
Tarts and custards, creams and cakes,
Are the junkets still at wakes:
Unto which the tribes resort,
Where the business is the sport.
Morris-dancers thou shall see,
Marian, too, in pageantry,
And a mimic to devise
Many grinning properties.
Players there will be, and those
Base in action as in clothes;
Yet with strutting they will please
The incurious villages.
Near the dying of the day
There will be a cudgel-play,
Where a coxcomb will be broke
Ere a good word can be spoke:
But the anger ends all here,
Drenched in ale, or drown'd in beer.
Happy rustics! best content
With the cheapest merriment,
And possess no other fear
Than to want the wake next year.
Marian, Maid Marian of the Robin Hood ballads.
Action, i.e., dramatic action.
Incurious, careless, easily pleased.
Coxcomb, to cause blood to flow from the opponent's head was the test
of victory.
762. THE PETER-PENNY.
Fresh strewings allow
To my sepulchre now,
To make my lodging the sweeter;
A staff or a wand
Put then in my hand,
With a penny to pay S. Peter.
To my sepulchre now,
To make my lodging the sweeter;
A staff or a wand
Put then in my hand,
With a penny to pay S. Peter.
Who has not a cross
Must sit with the loss,
And no whit further must venture;
Since the porter he
Will paid have his fee,
Or else not one there must enter.
Must sit with the loss,
And no whit further must venture;
Since the porter he
Will paid have his fee,
Or else not one there must enter.
Who at a dead lift
Can't send for a gift
A pig to the priest for a roaster,
Shall hear his clerk say,
By yea and by nay,
No penny, no paternoster.
Can't send for a gift
A pig to the priest for a roaster,
Shall hear his clerk say,
By yea and by nay,
No penny, no paternoster.
S. Peter, as the gate-ward of heaven.
Cross, a coin.
763. TO DOCTOR ALABASTER.
Nor art thou less esteem'd that I have plac'd,
Amongst mine honour'd, thee almost the last:
In great processions many lead the way
To him who is the triumph of the day,
As these have done to thee who art the one,
One only glory of a million:
In whom the spirit of the gods does dwell,
Firing thy soul, by which thou dost foretell
When this or that vast dynasty must fall
Down to a fillet more imperial;
When this or that horn shall be broke, and when
Others shall spring up in their place again;
When times and seasons and all years must lie
Drowned in the sea of wild eternity;
When the black doomsday books, as yet unseal'd,
Shall by the mighty angel be reveal'd;
And when the trumpet which thou late hast found
Shall call to judgment. Tell us when the sound
Of this or that great April day shall be,
And next the Gospel we will credit thee.
Meantime like earth-worms we will crawl below,
And wonder at those things that thou dost know.
Amongst mine honour'd, thee almost the last:
In great processions many lead the way
To him who is the triumph of the day,
As these have done to thee who art the one,
One only glory of a million:
In whom the spirit of the gods does dwell,
Firing thy soul, by which thou dost foretell
When this or that vast dynasty must fall
Down to a fillet more imperial;
When this or that horn shall be broke, and when
Others shall spring up in their place again;
When times and seasons and all years must lie
Drowned in the sea of wild eternity;
When the black doomsday books, as yet unseal'd,
Shall by the mighty angel be reveal'd;
And when the trumpet which thou late hast found
Shall call to judgment. Tell us when the sound
Of this or that great April day shall be,
And next the Gospel we will credit thee.
Meantime like earth-worms we will crawl below,
And wonder at those things that thou dost know.
For an account of Alabaster see Notes: the allusions here are to his
apocalyptic writings.
Horn, used as a symbol of prosperity.
The trumpet which thou late hast found, i.e., Alabaster's
"Spiraculum Tubarum seu Fons Spiritualium Expositionum," published 1633.
April day, day of weeping, or perhaps rather of "opening" or
revelation.
764. UPON HIS KINSWOMAN, MRS. M. S.
Here lies a virgin, and as sweet
As e'er was wrapt in winding sheet.
Her name if next you would have known,
The marble speaks it, Mary Stone:
Who dying in her blooming years,
This stone for name's sake melts to tears.
If, fragrant virgins, you'll but keep
A fast, while jets and marbles weep,
And praying, strew some roses on her,
You'll do my niece abundant honour.
As e'er was wrapt in winding sheet.
Her name if next you would have known,
The marble speaks it, Mary Stone:
Who dying in her blooming years,
This stone for name's sake melts to tears.
If, fragrant virgins, you'll but keep
A fast, while jets and marbles weep,
And praying, strew some roses on her,
You'll do my niece abundant honour.
765. FELICITY KNOWS NO FENCE.
Of both our fortunes good and bad we find
Prosperity more searching of the mind:
Felicity flies o'er the wall and fence,
While misery keeps in with patience.
Prosperity more searching of the mind:
Felicity flies o'er the wall and fence,
While misery keeps in with patience.
766. DEATH ENDS ALL WOE.
Time is the bound of things; where'er we go
Fate gives a meeting, Death's the end of woe.
Fate gives a meeting, Death's the end of woe.
767. A CONJURATION TO ELECTRA.
By those soft tods of wool
With which the air is full;
By all those tinctures there,
That paint the hemisphere;
By dews and drizzling rain
That swell the golden grain;
By all those sweets that be
I' th' flowery nunnery;
By silent nights, and the
Three forms of Hecate;
By all aspects that bless
The sober sorceress,
While juice she strains, and pith
To make her philters with;
By time that hastens on
Things to perfection;
And by yourself, the best
Conjurement of the rest:
O my Electra! be
In love with none, but me.
With which the air is full;
By all those tinctures there,
That paint the hemisphere;
By dews and drizzling rain
That swell the golden grain;
By all those sweets that be
I' th' flowery nunnery;
By silent nights, and the
Three forms of Hecate;
By all aspects that bless
The sober sorceress,
While juice she strains, and pith
To make her philters with;
By time that hastens on
Things to perfection;
And by yourself, the best
Conjurement of the rest:
O my Electra! be
In love with none, but me.
Tods of wool, literally, tod of wool=twenty-eight pounds, here used of
the fleecy clouds.
Tinctures, colours.
Three forms of Hecate, the Diva triformis of Hor. Od. iii. 22. Luna
in heaven, Diana on earth, Persephone in the world below.
Aspects, i.e., of the planets.
768. COURAGE COOLED.
I cannot love as I have lov'd before;
For I'm grown old and, with mine age, grown poor.
Love must be fed by wealth: this blood of mine
Must needs wax cold, if wanting bread and wine.
For I'm grown old and, with mine age, grown poor.
Love must be fed by wealth: this blood of mine
Must needs wax cold, if wanting bread and wine.
769. THE SPELL.
Holy water come and bring;
Cast in salt, for seasoning:
Set the brush for sprinkling:
Sacred spittle bring ye hither;
Meal and it now mix together,
And a little oil to either.
Give the tapers here their light,
Ring the saints'-bell, to affright
Far from hence the evil sprite.
Cast in salt, for seasoning:
Set the brush for sprinkling:
Sacred spittle bring ye hither;
Meal and it now mix together,
And a little oil to either.
Give the tapers here their light,
Ring the saints'-bell, to affright
Far from hence the evil sprite.
770. HIS WISH TO PRIVACY.
Give me a cell
To dwell,
Where no foot hath
A path:
There will I spend
And end
My wearied years
In tears.
To dwell,
Where no foot hath
A path:
There will I spend
And end
My wearied years
In tears.
771. A GOOD HUSBAND.
A Master of a house, as I have read,
Must be the first man up, and last in bed.
With the sun rising he must walk his grounds;
See this, view that, and all the other bounds:
Shut every gate; mend every hedge that's torn,
Either with old, or plant therein new thorn;
Tread o'er his glebe, but with such care, that where
He sets his foot, he leaves rich compost there.
Must be the first man up, and last in bed.
With the sun rising he must walk his grounds;
See this, view that, and all the other bounds:
Shut every gate; mend every hedge that's torn,
Either with old, or plant therein new thorn;
Tread o'er his glebe, but with such care, that where
He sets his foot, he leaves rich compost there.
772. A HYMN TO BACCHUS.
I sing thy praise, Iacchus,
Who with thy thyrse dost thwack us:
And yet thou so dost back us
With boldness, that we fear
No Brutus ent'ring here,
Nor Cato the severe.
What though the lictors threat us,
We know they dare not beat us,
So long as thou dost heat us.
When we thy orgies sing,
Each cobbler is a king,
Nor dreads he any thing:
And though he do not rave,
Yet he'll the courage have
To call my Lord Mayor knave;
Besides, too, in a brave,
Although he has no riches,
But walks with dangling breeches
And skirts that want their stitches,
And shows his naked flitches,
Yet he'll be thought or seen
So good as George-a-Green;
And calls his blouze, his queen;
And speaks in language keen.
O Bacchus! let us be
From cares and troubles free;
And thou shalt hear how we
Will chant new hymns to thee.
Who with thy thyrse dost thwack us:
And yet thou so dost back us
With boldness, that we fear
No Brutus ent'ring here,
Nor Cato the severe.
What though the lictors threat us,
We know they dare not beat us,
So long as thou dost heat us.
When we thy orgies sing,
Each cobbler is a king,
Nor dreads he any thing:
And though he do not rave,
Yet he'll the courage have
To call my Lord Mayor knave;
Besides, too, in a brave,
Although he has no riches,
But walks with dangling breeches
And skirts that want their stitches,
And shows his naked flitches,
Yet he'll be thought or seen
So good as George-a-Green;
And calls his blouze, his queen;
And speaks in language keen.
O Bacchus! let us be
From cares and troubles free;
And thou shalt hear how we
Will chant new hymns to thee.
Orgies, hymns to Bacchus.
Brave, boast.
George-a-Green, the legendary pinner of Wakefield, renowned for the
use of the quarterstaff.
Blouze, a fat wench.
773. UPON PUSS AND HER 'PRENTICE. EPIG.
Puss and her 'prentice both at drawgloves play;
That done, they kiss, and so draw out the day:
At night they draw to supper; then well fed,
They draw their clothes off both, so draw to bed.
That done, they kiss, and so draw out the day:
At night they draw to supper; then well fed,
They draw their clothes off both, so draw to bed.
Drawgloves, the game of talking on the fingers.
774. BLAME THE REWARD OF PRINCES.
Among disasters that dissension brings,
This not the least is, which belongs to kings:
If wars go well, each for a part lays claim;
If ill, then kings, not soldiers, bear the blame.
This not the least is, which belongs to kings:
If wars go well, each for a part lays claim;
If ill, then kings, not soldiers, bear the blame.
775. CLEMENCY IN KINGS.
Kings must not only cherish up the good,
But must be niggards of the meanest blood.
But must be niggards of the meanest blood.
776. ANGER.
Wrongs, if neglected, vanish in short time,
But heard with anger, we confess the crime.
But heard with anger, we confess the crime.
777. A PSALM OR HYMN TO THE GRACES.
Glory be to the Graces!
That do in public places
Drive thence whate'er encumbers
The list'ning to my numbers.
That do in public places
Drive thence whate'er encumbers
The list'ning to my numbers.
Honour be to the Graces!
Who do with sweet embraces,
Show they are well contented
With what I have invented.
Who do with sweet embraces,
Show they are well contented
With what I have invented.
Worship be to the Graces!
Who do from sour faces,
And lungs that would infect me,
For evermore protect me.
Who do from sour faces,
And lungs that would infect me,
For evermore protect me.
778. A HYMN TO THE MUSES.
Honour to you who sit
Near to the well of wit,
And drink your fill of it.
Near to the well of wit,
And drink your fill of it.
Glory and worship be
To you, sweet maids, thrice three,
Who still inspire me,
To you, sweet maids, thrice three,
Who still inspire me,
And teach me how to sing
Unto the lyric string
My measures ravishing.
Unto the lyric string
My measures ravishing.
Then while I sing your praise,
My priesthood crown with bays
Green, to the end of days.
My priesthood crown with bays
Green, to the end of days.
779. UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES.
Whenas in silks my Julia goes,
Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows
The liquefaction of her clothes.
Then, then, methinks, how sweetly flows
The liquefaction of her clothes.
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see
That brave vibration each way free;
O how that glittering taketh me!
That brave vibration each way free;
O how that glittering taketh me!
780. MODERATION.
In things a moderation keep:
Kings ought to shear, not skin their sheep.
Kings ought to shear, not skin their sheep.
781. TO ANTHEA.
Let's call for Hymen, if agreed thou art;
Delays in love but crucify the heart.
Love's thorny tapers yet neglected lie:
Speak thou the word, they'll kindle by-and-bye.
The nimble hours woo us on to wed,
And Genius waits to have us both to bed.
Behold, for us the naked Graces stay
With maunds of roses for to strew the way:
Besides, the most religious prophet stands
Ready to join, as well our hearts as hands.
Juno yet smiles; but if she chance to chide,
Ill luck 'twill bode to th' bridegroom and the bride.
Tell me, Anthea, dost thou fondly dread
The loss of that we call a maidenhead?
Come, I'll instruct thee. Know, the vestal fire
Is not by marriage quench'd, but flames the higher.
Delays in love but crucify the heart.
Love's thorny tapers yet neglected lie:
Speak thou the word, they'll kindle by-and-bye.
The nimble hours woo us on to wed,
And Genius waits to have us both to bed.
Behold, for us the naked Graces stay
With maunds of roses for to strew the way:
Besides, the most religious prophet stands
Ready to join, as well our hearts as hands.
Juno yet smiles; but if she chance to chide,
Ill luck 'twill bode to th' bridegroom and the bride.
Tell me, Anthea, dost thou fondly dread
The loss of that we call a maidenhead?
Come, I'll instruct thee. Know, the vestal fire
Is not by marriage quench'd, but flames the higher.
Maunds, baskets.
Fondly, foolishly.
782. UPON PREW, HIS MAID.
In this little urn is laid
Prudence Baldwin, once my maid:
From whose happy spark here let
Spring the purple violet.
Prudence Baldwin, once my maid:
From whose happy spark here let
Spring the purple violet.
783. THE INVITATION.
To sup with thee thou did'st me home invite;
And mad'st a promise that mine appetite
Should meet and tire on such lautitious meat,
The like not Heliogabalus did eat:
And richer wine would'st give to me, thy guest,
Than Roman Sylla pour'd out at his feast.
I came, 'tis true, and looked for fowl of price,
The bastard phœnix, bird of paradise,
And for no less than aromatic wine
Of maiden's-blush, commix'd with jessamine.
Clean was the hearth, the mantel larded jet;
Which wanting Lar, and smoke, hung weeping wet;
At last, i' th' noon of winter, did appear
A ragg'd-soust-neat's-foot with sick vinegar:
And in a burnished flagonet stood by,
Beer small as comfort, dead as charity.
At which amaz'd, and pondering on the food,
How cold it was, and how it chill'd my blood;
I curs'd the master, and I damn'd the souce,
And swore I'd got the ague of the house.
Well, when to eat thou dost me next desire,
I'll bring a fever, since thou keep'st no fire.
And mad'st a promise that mine appetite
Should meet and tire on such lautitious meat,
The like not Heliogabalus did eat:
And richer wine would'st give to me, thy guest,
Than Roman Sylla pour'd out at his feast.
I came, 'tis true, and looked for fowl of price,
The bastard phœnix, bird of paradise,
And for no less than aromatic wine
Of maiden's-blush, commix'd with jessamine.
Clean was the hearth, the mantel larded jet;
Which wanting Lar, and smoke, hung weeping wet;
At last, i' th' noon of winter, did appear
A ragg'd-soust-neat's-foot with sick vinegar:
And in a burnished flagonet stood by,
Beer small as comfort, dead as charity.
At which amaz'd, and pondering on the food,
How cold it was, and how it chill'd my blood;
I curs'd the master, and I damn'd the souce,
And swore I'd got the ague of the house.
Well, when to eat thou dost me next desire,
I'll bring a fever, since thou keep'st no fire.
Tire, feed on.
Lautitious, sumptuous.
Maiden's-blush, the pink-rose.
Larded jet, i.e., blacked.
Soust, pickled.
784. CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS.
Come, bring with a noise,
My merry, merry boys,
The Christmas log to the firing;
While my good dame, she
Bids ye all be free,
And drink to your hearts' desiring.
My merry, merry boys,
The Christmas log to the firing;
While my good dame, she
Bids ye all be free,
And drink to your hearts' desiring.
With the last year's brand
Light the new block, and
For good success in his spending
On your psaltries play,
That sweet luck may
Come while the log is a-teending.
Light the new block, and
For good success in his spending
On your psaltries play,
That sweet luck may
Come while the log is a-teending.
Drink now the strong beer,
Cut the white loaf here;
The while the meat is a-shredding
For the rare mince-pie,
And the plums stand by
To fill the paste that's a-kneading.
Cut the white loaf here;
The while the meat is a-shredding
For the rare mince-pie,
And the plums stand by
To fill the paste that's a-kneading.
Psaltries, a kind of guitar.
Teending, kindling.
785. CHRISTMAS-EVE, ANOTHER CEREMONY.
Come guard this night the Christmas-pie,
That the thief, though ne'er so sly,
With his flesh-hooks, don't come nigh
To catch it
From him, who all alone sits there,
Having his eyes still in his ear,
And a deal of nightly fear,
To watch it.
That the thief, though ne'er so sly,
With his flesh-hooks, don't come nigh
To catch it
From him, who all alone sits there,
Having his eyes still in his ear,
And a deal of nightly fear,
To watch it.
786. ANOTHER TO THE MAIDS.
Wash your hands, or else the fire
Will not teend to your desire;
Unwash'd hands, ye maidens, know,
Dead the fire, though ye blow.
Will not teend to your desire;
Unwash'd hands, ye maidens, know,
Dead the fire, though ye blow.
Teend, kindle.
787. ANOTHER.
Wassail the trees, that they may bear
You many a plum and many a pear:
For more or less fruits they will bring,
As you do give them wassailing.
You many a plum and many a pear:
For more or less fruits they will bring,
As you do give them wassailing.
788. POWER AND PEACE.
'Tis never, or but seldom known,
Power and peace to keep one throne.
Power and peace to keep one throne.
789. TO HIS DEAR VALENTINE, MISTRESS
MARGARET FALCONBRIDGE.
Now is your turn, my dearest, to be set
A gem in this eternal coronet:
'Twas rich before, but since your name is down
It sparkles now like Ariadne's crown.
Blaze by this sphere for ever: or this do,
Let me and it shine evermore by you.
A gem in this eternal coronet:
'Twas rich before, but since your name is down
It sparkles now like Ariadne's crown.
Blaze by this sphere for ever: or this do,
Let me and it shine evermore by you.