VIII. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.

Come let vs hartily reioyce and singeTo God our mightie Sauiour, and our Kinge;Present the prayse which doth to Him belonge,And show our gladnes in a cheerfull songe;For God our Lord, the greatest God is Hee,And Monarch of all gods that worshipt bee.The Earth's round globe, Hee holdeth in His hand:And th' highest mountaynes are at His command.The sea is His, Hee hath it made of old,And the dry land His blessed hands did mould:Come let vs worship then, and humble fallBefore our mightie God which made vs all.Hee is our Lord, and wee His people bee;Our shepheard, and His proper sheep are wee.This day yf you His holy voice will heare,Let not your hearts bee hardned as they were,When in the desert you His wrath did moue,And temptinge Him His mightie power did proue.Full forty yeeres this nation greeud mee so,Their erringe harts My wayes would neuer know;Therefore displeas'd by oath I did protestThey neuer should possesse my Land of rest.

PSALM C.

Bee ioyfull in the Lord, yee nations all,Cheer vp your harts in mirth, and songs withall;The Lord is God, not wee but Hee aloneHath made vs all, and feeds vs euery one.Then enter yee His gates and courts with prayse,And striue with hart and voice His name to raise.For why? the Lord is sweet, His mercy rare,His truth for euer constant shall endure.

PSALM CIII.

My soule with all thy powers thy Maker praise;Forget not all His benefits to thee,Who pardons all thy sinnes, and doth thee rayseWhen thou art fal'n through any infirmitie:Who doth thee saue from mischeifs that would kill thee,And crowneth thee with mercies euer more.And with the best of thinges doth feed and fill thee,And egle-like thy youth and strength restore.When men oppressèd doe to Him appeale,Hee righteth euery one against his foe;Hee vnto Moses did His lawes reueale,And vnto Jacob's eare His workes did show.Hee is more full of grace then wee of sinne;To anger slowe, compassionate and kind;Hee doth not euer chide, and never linne,[244]Nor keepes displeasure alwayes in His minde,Nor after our misdeedes doth Hee vs charge;Nor takes Hee of our faults a strict account,But as the space from earth to heauen is large,So farr His mercy doth our sinnes surmount.As east from west is distant farr away,Soe farr doth Hee from us our sinnes remoue:As fathers, kindnes to their sonnes bewray,Soe God to them that feare Him, showes His loue.For Hee that made vs and knowes all, doth knowThe matter whereof man was made of old;That wee were formèd heer on earth belowOf dust and clay, and of noe better mold.Man's age doth wither as the fadinge grasse;He flourisheth, but as yeflower in May,Which when the South-wind ouer it doth passeIs gone; and where it grew no man can say.But God's sweet kindnes[245]euer doth consist;His truth, from age to age, continew shall,To them that in His righteous lawes persist,And thinke vppon them to performe them all.Heauen is God's seat; there doth His glorie dwell,But ouer all, His empire doth extend;Praise Him yee angells which in strength excell,And His command doe euermore attend.Praise Him yee hosts of heauen which serue Him there,Whose seruice with His pleasure doth accord;And praise Him all His creatures euery where;And thou my soule for thy part, praise the Lord.

PSALM CL.

To Him with trumpets and with flutes,With cornets, clarions and with lutes;With harpes, with organs and with shawmes,With holy anthems and with psalmes;With voice of angells and of menSing! Aleluyia! Amen, Amen.

HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED.

Miscellaneous Poems.

OF FAITH THE FIRST THEOLOGICALL VERTUE.

Faith is a sunbeame of th' Æternall light,That in man's soule infusd by grace doth shine:Which giues her dazled eye soe cleare a sightAs evidently sees the truith divine;This beame that cleares our eyes, inflames our hearts,And Charitie's kind fire doth there begett:For sunlike, it both light and heate imparts:Faith is the light, and Charitie the heate:This light of faith the noblest wisdome is,For it the onley truith allowes and a'plyes:The virgin's lamp, that lights the soule to blisse;The Jacob's scales,[246]whereby shee clymes the skyes;The eye that sees, the hand that apprehends;The cause of causes, and the end of ends.

A SONGE OF CONTENTION

betweene Fowre Maids concerninge that which addeth most perfection to that sexe.

The first for Beauty.

Our fairest Garland, made of Beautye's flowers,Doth of it selfe supplyall other dowers:Women excell the perfects' men in this,And therefore herein theire perfection is:For beautye wee the glorious heauens admire;Faire feilds, faire howses, gold and pearle, desire.Beautye doth alwayes health and youth imployand doth delight the noblest sense, the eye.

The second for Witte.

Beautye delights the soule, but witte the Reason:Witte lasts an age, and beautye but a season:The sense is quickly cloyd with beautye's tast;When witt's delight still quicke and fresh doth last:Beautye, weake eyes with her illusion blindes,Witte conquers spirits and triumphs ouer minds:Deade things haue beautye, onely man hath witte,and man's perfection doth consist in it.

The third for Wealth.

Wealth is a power that passeth nature farre:Makes euery goose a swanne, and sparke a starre:Queene money, bringes and giues with royall handsFreinds, kindred, honour, husband, house and lands;Not a faire face, but fortune faire, I craue,Lett mee want witte soe I fooles' fortune haue.

The fourth for Vertue.

Yet those perfections most imperfect bee,If there bee wantinge vertuous modestye;Vertue's aspect would haue the sweetest graceIf wee could see as wee conceaue her face:Vertue guids witte, with well-affected will,Which if witte want, it proues a dangerous ill:Vertue gaines wealth with her good gouerment,If not, sh'is rich, because shee is content.[247]

A MAID'S HYMNE IN PRAISE OF VIRGINITY.

Sacred virginity, vnconquered Queene!Whose kingdome never hath invaded beene;Of whose sweete rosy crowne noe hand hath powerOnce but to touch, much lesse to plucke a flower:Gainst whome proud Love—which on the world doth raigne,—With armies of his passions fights in vaine;In whome gray Winter neuer doth appeare,To whome greene Springtide lasteth all the yeare.O fresh immortall baye, vntroubled well,Or violett, which vntoucht doest sweetest smell;Faire vine, which without prop[248]doest safely stand,Pure gold, new coynd, which neuer past a hand.O temperance, in the supreame degreeAnd hiyest pitch that vertue's winges can flee:O more then humane spirit, of Angells' kind:O white, unspotted garment of the mind,Which first cloathed man, before hee was forlorne;And wherein God Himselfe chose to bee borne.Within my soule, O heavenly vertue rest,Untill my soule with heaven it selfe bee blest.[249]

Sacred virginity, vnconquered Queene!Whose kingdome never hath invaded beene;Of whose sweete rosy crowne noe hand hath powerOnce but to touch, much lesse to plucke a flower:

Gainst whome proud Love—which on the world doth raigne,—With armies of his passions fights in vaine;In whome gray Winter neuer doth appeare,To whome greene Springtide lasteth all the yeare.

O fresh immortall baye, vntroubled well,Or violett, which vntoucht doest sweetest smell;Faire vine, which without prop[248]doest safely stand,Pure gold, new coynd, which neuer past a hand.

O temperance, in the supreame degreeAnd hiyest pitch that vertue's winges can flee:O more then humane spirit, of Angells' kind:O white, unspotted garment of the mind,

Which first cloathed man, before hee was forlorne;And wherein God Himselfe chose to bee borne.Within my soule, O heavenly vertue rest,Untill my soule with heaven it selfe bee blest.[249]

PART OF AN ELEGIE IN PRAISE OF MARRIAGE.

When the first man from Paradise was driven,Hee did from thence his onely comfort beare:Hee still enioyes his wife, which God had giuen,Though hee from other joyes deuorcèd were.This cordiall comfort of societye,This trueloue knott, that tyes the heart and will,When man was in th' extremest miseryeTo keepe his heart from breaking, existed still.[250]There is a tale then[251][when] the world beganne,Both sexes in one body did remaine:Till Joue, offended with that double man,Caused Vulcan to diuide him into twayne.In this diuision, hee the hart did seuer,But cunningly hee did indent the heart,That if they should be reunited euer,Each part might know which was the counterpart:Since when, all men and women thinke it longe,Each of them their other part haue mett:Sometimes the[y] meete yeright, sometimes yewrong,This discontent, and that doth ioy begett.It ioye begetts in there indented harts,When like indentures they[252]are matcht aright:Each part to other mutuall joy imparts,And thus the man which Vulcan did deuide,Is nowe againe by Hymen made entire,And all the ruine is ræedified;Two beeinge made one by their diuine desire.Sweete marriage is the honny neuer cloyinge;The tune, which being still plaid, doth euer please,The pleasure which is vertue's in inioyinge.It is the band of peace and yoake of ease,It is a yoake, but sweete [and] light it is;The fellowship doth take away the trouble,For euery griefe is made halfe lesse by this,And euery ioy is by reflection double.It is a band, but one of Love's sweete bands,Such as hee binds the world's great parts withall:Whose wonderous frame by there convention stands,But beinge disbanded would to ruine fall.[253]

When the first man from Paradise was driven,Hee did from thence his onely comfort beare:Hee still enioyes his wife, which God had giuen,Though hee from other joyes deuorcèd were.

This cordiall comfort of societye,This trueloue knott, that tyes the heart and will,When man was in th' extremest miseryeTo keepe his heart from breaking, existed still.[250]

There is a tale then[251][when] the world beganne,Both sexes in one body did remaine:Till Joue, offended with that double man,Caused Vulcan to diuide him into twayne.

In this diuision, hee the hart did seuer,But cunningly hee did indent the heart,That if they should be reunited euer,Each part might know which was the counterpart:

Since when, all men and women thinke it longe,Each of them their other part haue mett:Sometimes the[y] meete yeright, sometimes yewrong,This discontent, and that doth ioy begett.

It ioye begetts in there indented harts,When like indentures they[252]are matcht aright:Each part to other mutuall joy imparts,And thus the man which Vulcan did deuide,

Is nowe againe by Hymen made entire,And all the ruine is ræedified;Two beeinge made one by their diuine desire.Sweete marriage is the honny neuer cloyinge;

The tune, which being still plaid, doth euer please,The pleasure which is vertue's in inioyinge.It is the band of peace and yoake of ease,It is a yoake, but sweete [and] light it is;

The fellowship doth take away the trouble,For euery griefe is made halfe lesse by this,And euery ioy is by reflection double.It is a band, but one of Love's sweete bands,

Such as hee binds the world's great parts withall:Whose wonderous frame by there convention stands,But beinge disbanded would to ruine fall.[253]

[A FRAGMENT OF A LOVE ELEGIE.]

But those impressions by this forme are staynde,and blotted out as if they had not beene:And yet if nothing else in mynde I beare,makes me not lesse learn[è]d then before:For that in her as in a merrour cleare,I see and learne far better things and more.The students of the world and Natur's booke,Beauty and order in the world doe noate;She is my little world; on her I looke,and doe in her the same p'fections quoate:For in her eyes the beames of beauty shine,and in her sweete behaviour and her grace,Order apears, and comlines divine,Befitting every tyme and every place.

3.Vnto that sparkling wit, that spirit of fire,That pointed diomond looke, that ægle's eyeWhose lyghtning makes audacity retireand yet drawes on respectiue modesty,With wings of feare and loue, my spirit doth flyand doth therein a flame of fire resemble;Which, when it burnes most bright and mounts most high,then doth it waver most and most doth tremble.O that my thoughts were words, or could I speakeThe tongue of Angells, to expresse my mynde:For mortall speach is far too faint and weeketo utter passion of so high a kynde.You have a beauty of such life and lightAs it hath power all wandring eyes to stay:To move dombe tongues to speake, lame hands to write,Stayde thoughts to run, hard harts to melt a way:Yet painters' can of this draw every lineAnd every wittles person that hath eyes,Can se[e] and judg and sweare it is divine:For in these outwarde formes all fooles are wise.But that which my admireing spirit doth veiw,I[n] thought whereof it would for ever dwell,Eie never saw, the pensill never drew,Pen neuer coulde describe, tongue never tell:It is the invisible beauty of your mynde,Your cleare immagination, lively witt,So tund, so temp'rd, of such heavenly kind,As all mens spirits ar charmd and rapt with it.This life within begetts your lively looke,As fier doth make all metalls looke like fier;Or your quicke soule by choise this body tooke,As angells wthbright formes themselves attire.O that my brest might ope, and hart might cleaveThat so you might my silent wondring veiw:O that you might my soreing spirit p'ceive,How still with trembling wings it waites on you.Then should you se[e] of thoughts an endles chaine,Whose links are[254]vertues, and yor vertues bee;Then should you see how your faire forme doth raigneThrough all the regions of my fantesie.Then should you fynde that I was yours as muchAs ar your sharpe conceits borowd of none;Or as your native beautyes, that are suchAs all the world will sweare it is your owne.

4.As they that worke in mines, rich vaines beray,By some few garaines[255]of ore whereon the[y] hit:And as one letter found is oft a kayTo many lines that ar in cipher writt;So I by your few loveing lines descryOf your long hiden love the golden mine;And reade therein with a true lover's eyeOf the hart's volume, every secrett line.But what availes it now, alas to knowThat once a blessed man I might haue beene?Since I haue lett, by lookeing downe too lowMy highest fortunes sore away vnseene:And yett if I had raisd my humble eyesAs high as heauen I could not haue discer[n]dOf invisible thoughts which in your hart did rise,Unles of you I had my lesson learnd.But all was darke and folden vp to me;As soon might I my selfe, my selfe haue taughtTo read yeblacke records of destiny,As read the ridles of the silent thought:But whereto may I best resemble this?Your loue was like the springing of a tree:We cannot see the growing when it is,But that it hath sprunge up and growne, we see.Or it is like to wealth by fairyes brought,Which they bring still while they invisible goe;But all doth vanish and doth turne to nought,If once a man enricht, those fairyes know:But now your loue (say you) is dead and gone:But my strong faith shall giue it life againe.By strength of fancy miricles are done,And true beleefe doth seldom hope in vaine.Your Phœnix loue is vnto ashes turnd,But now the fier of my affection true,Which long within my hart hath kyndly burnd,Shall spreade such heate as it shall liue anew.Or if the fyer of your celestiall loue,Be mounted vp to heauen and cannot dye:Another slye Prometheus will I prove,and play the theife to steale it from the skye.When you vouchsaft to love vnworthy me,Your loue discended like a shower of raine;Which on the earth, euen senceles though she bee,when once it falls, returneth not againe.Then why should you withdraw the heauenly dewWhich fell sometymes on your despairing lover?Though then his earthly spirit full little knewHow good an Angel did about him houer.O you the glory of your sex and race!You that all tymes and places hapie make!You that in beeing vertuous vertue grace,and make men love it better for your sake:One sunbeame yet of favour cast on mee,Let one kinde thought in your cleare fancy rise:Loue but a thought, or if that may not beBe pleasd that I may love, it shall suffise.

TO THE Q:[UEENE.]

What Musicke shall we make to you?To whome the strings of all men's hartsMake musicke of ten thousand parts:In tune and measure true,With straines[256]and changes new.How shall wee fraime a harmonyWorthie your eares, whose princely[257]handsKeepe harmony in sundry lands:Whose people divers be,In station and degree?Heauen's tunes may onely please,and not such aires as theise.For you which downe from heauen are sentSuch peace vpon the earth to bring,Haue h[e]ard yequire of Angells sing:and all the sphæres consent,like a sweete instrument.How then should theise harsh tunes you[258]heareCreated of yetrubled ayer,breed but distast—when you repaire—to your celestiall eare?So that this center herefor you no musicke fynds,but harmony of mynds.

What Musicke shall we make to you?To whome the strings of all men's hartsMake musicke of ten thousand parts:In tune and measure true,With straines[256]and changes new.

How shall wee fraime a harmonyWorthie your eares, whose princely[257]handsKeepe harmony in sundry lands:Whose people divers be,In station and degree?Heauen's tunes may onely please,and not such aires as theise.

For you which downe from heauen are sentSuch peace vpon the earth to bring,Haue h[e]ard yequire of Angells sing:and all the sphæres consent,like a sweete instrument.

How then should theise harsh tunes you[258]heareCreated of yetrubled ayer,breed but distast—when you repaire—to your celestiall eare?So that this center herefor you no musicke fynds,but harmony of mynds.

[TO FAIRE LADYES.]

Ladyes of Founthill,[259]I am come to seekeMy hart amongst you, which I late did leese;but many harts may be perhaps alike:Therefore of mine, the proper markes, are theise.It is not hard, though true as steele it be,And like yediomond, cleare from any spot;Transmixt with many darts you shall it se[e],but all by vertue, not by Cupid, shot;It hath no wings, because it needeth none,Being now arived and settled where it would;Wingèd desires and hopes from it gon are,but it is full of joyes as it can hold.Faine would I find it where it doth remaine,but would not haue it though I might againe.

UPON A PAIRE OF GARTERS.

Go loveinge woode-bynde, clip with louely grace,those two sweet plants which beare yeflowers of loueGo silken vines, those tender elmes embrace,Which flourish still, although their roots doe moue.As soone as you possess your blessed places,You are advancèd and ennobled moreThen dyodemes, which were white silken lacesThat ancient kings about there forehead wore:Sweete bands, take heed lest you vnge[n]tly bynd,Or with your stricktnes make too deepe a print:Was neuer tree had such a tinder rynd,Although her inward hart be hard as flynt;And let your knots be fast, and loose at will,she must be free, though I stand bounden still.

[TO HIS LADY-LOVE.]

In this sweete booke, yetreasury of witt,All virtues, beautyes, passions, written be:And with such life they are sett forth in itas still methinkes ytwhich I read I see.But this booke's Mrs. is a liveing booke,Which hath indeed those vertues in her mynde,And in whose face though envey's selfe do looke,Even envye's eye shall all those beautyes fynd.Onely yepassions y are printed here,In her calme thoughts can no impression make:She will not love, nor hate, nor hope, nor feare,Though others seeke theise passions for her sake.So in yesonne, some say there is no heatethough his reflecting beames doe fire begett.

[TOBACCO.][260]

Homer[261]of Moly and Nepenthe singes:Moly, the gods most soveraigne hearbe divine.Nepenth Hellen's[262]drink, which gladnes brings,—Hart's greife repells, and doth yewitts refine.But this our age another world hath found,From whence an hearbe of heavenly power is brought:Moly is not soe soveraigne for a woundNor hath Nepenth[e] so great wonders wrought.It is tobacco: whose sweete subtile fumeThe hellish torment of yeteeth doth ease,By drawing downe and drieing up yerume[263]The mother and the nurse of each disease.[264]

ELEGIES OF LOUE.

Like as the diuers-fretchled[265]Butter-flye,When Winter's frost is fallne upon his winge,Hath onely left life's possibility,and lies halfe dead untill the cherefull Spring:But then the Sunne from his all-quickning eye,Darts forth a sparkle of the liuinge fire:Which[266]with kinde heate, doth warme the frozen flyeand with newe spirit his little breast inspire:Then doth hee lightly rise and spread his winges,And with the[267]beames that gaue him life doth playe:Tasts euery flower that on th' earthe's bosoome springs,and is in busye motion all the day:Soe my gaye Muse, which did my heart possesse,And in my youthful fantasie doth raigne:Which cleard my forehead with her cheerefullnesand gaue a liuely warmth unto my brayne:With sadder[268]studye, and with graue conceiteWhich late my Immagination entertaynd:Beganne to shrinke, and loose her actiue heate,and dead as in a læthargy remaynd.Long in that senseles sleepe congeald shee laye,Untill euen now another heauenly eye,And cleare as that which doth begett the daye,and of a like reviuinge simpathy:Did cast into my eyes a subtile beame,Which peirieinge[269]deepe, into my fancy went,And did awake my muse out of her dreame,and unto her new life and vertue lent:Soe that shee now begins to raise her eyesWhich yett are dazled with her beautye's raye;And to record her wonted melodyes,Although at first shee bee not full so gaye.

Like as the diuers-fretchled[265]Butter-flye,When Winter's frost is fallne upon his winge,Hath onely left life's possibility,and lies halfe dead untill the cherefull Spring:

But then the Sunne from his all-quickning eye,Darts forth a sparkle of the liuinge fire:Which[266]with kinde heate, doth warme the frozen flyeand with newe spirit his little breast inspire:

Then doth hee lightly rise and spread his winges,And with the[267]beames that gaue him life doth playe:Tasts euery flower that on th' earthe's bosoome springs,and is in busye motion all the day:

Soe my gaye Muse, which did my heart possesse,And in my youthful fantasie doth raigne:Which cleard my forehead with her cheerefullnesand gaue a liuely warmth unto my brayne:With sadder[268]studye, and with graue conceiteWhich late my Immagination entertaynd:Beganne to shrinke, and loose her actiue heate,and dead as in a læthargy remaynd.

Long in that senseles sleepe congeald shee laye,Untill euen now another heauenly eye,And cleare as that which doth begett the daye,and of a like reviuinge simpathy:

Did cast into my eyes a subtile beame,Which peirieinge[269]deepe, into my fancy went,And did awake my muse out of her dreame,and unto her new life and vertue lent:

Soe that shee now begins to raise her eyesWhich yett are dazled with her beautye's raye;And to record her wonted melodyes,Although at first shee bee not full so gaye.

THE KINGES WELCOME.[270]

O nowe or never gentle muse be gaye,And mount vp higher on thy paper winges,Then doth the larke when he salutes the daye,And to the morne a merrie welcome singes.Fly swifter then the egle sent by artFrom Noremberg, to the Almaine emperour:A hand lesse cuning, but as true a hartSends thee to a prince of greater worth and power.Rencounter him thowe shalt vpon the waye,like Phebus midst of all his golden trayne;And knowe him too thou shalt at first suruayeBy proper notes and by distinctions plaine.By his faire outward formes and princely port,by honours done to him with capp and knee;He is decyphred by the vulgar sorte,but truer caracters will rise to the[e].Thy sight had once an influence devine.which gave it power the soule of man to viewe;wipe and make cleane that dazeled eye of thine,and thowe shall see his reall markes and true.Looke ouer all that divers troope, and findewhoe hath his spirites most Jouiall and free,whose bodie is best tempred, and whose mindeIs ever best in tune, and that is hee.See who it is whose actions doe bewrayethat threefold power, which rarely mixt we see;A iudgment graue, and yet a fancie gaye,Joynd with a ritch remembrance, that is hee.Marke who it is, that hath all noble skill,which maye to publique good referrèd bee;the quickest witt, and best affected will,whence flowes a streame of vertues, that is heeIf any more then other clearely wiseor wisely iust or iustly valiant be;If any doe fainte pleasures more despise,or be more maister of himselfe, 'tis heeBut soft, thie Egletes eye will soone be dymIf thou this rising sunne directly viewe;looke syde waies on the beames that spread from him;faire peace, rich plentie, and religion trueBesides a guard of blessed angells houerabout his sacred person, day and night;and with invisible winges his head doe cover,that dangers dartes thereon may never lightWhen by these proper notes thowe shalt him ken,fly towardes him with winges of love and feare;like fire which most doth wane and tremble thenwhen it doth mount most high and burne most cleare.Yet on; for wingèd time with the[e] goes on,which like old Æ'son hath his youth renewd;his hower glase turnèd and his sickle gone,and all his graye and broken fethers mewd.On, for the braue yong sonn aboue his headComes Northward, that he may his glorie meete;whilest the fresh earth in all her pride doth spreadgreene veluit carpettes vnderneath his feete.On, for thee birds will help to fill thie songe,whereto all english harte stringes doe agree;And the Irish harpe stringes, that did iarre soe longto make the musicke full, nowe tunèd be.There is noe eye cast downe, there is noe voicethat to pronounce the harte assent, is dombe;the world of thinges doth everie where reioyce,in certaine hope of blessed times to comeThousandes while they possesse and fill the waiesdoth both desire, and hinder his repaire;they fill the emptie heaven with praier and praise,which he requites with demonstrations faire.Then what hast thowe to doe, and what remaines?praie as the people doth, and add but thisThis little wish; that whiles he lives and raignes,he maye be still the same, that nowe he is.John Dauis.

O nowe or never gentle muse be gaye,And mount vp higher on thy paper winges,Then doth the larke when he salutes the daye,And to the morne a merrie welcome singes.

Fly swifter then the egle sent by artFrom Noremberg, to the Almaine emperour:A hand lesse cuning, but as true a hartSends thee to a prince of greater worth and power.

Rencounter him thowe shalt vpon the waye,like Phebus midst of all his golden trayne;And knowe him too thou shalt at first suruayeBy proper notes and by distinctions plaine.

By his faire outward formes and princely port,by honours done to him with capp and knee;He is decyphred by the vulgar sorte,but truer caracters will rise to the[e].

Thy sight had once an influence devine.which gave it power the soule of man to viewe;wipe and make cleane that dazeled eye of thine,and thowe shall see his reall markes and true.

Looke ouer all that divers troope, and findewhoe hath his spirites most Jouiall and free,whose bodie is best tempred, and whose mindeIs ever best in tune, and that is hee.

See who it is whose actions doe bewrayethat threefold power, which rarely mixt we see;A iudgment graue, and yet a fancie gaye,Joynd with a ritch remembrance, that is hee.

Marke who it is, that hath all noble skill,which maye to publique good referrèd bee;the quickest witt, and best affected will,whence flowes a streame of vertues, that is hee

If any more then other clearely wiseor wisely iust or iustly valiant be;If any doe fainte pleasures more despise,or be more maister of himselfe, 'tis hee

But soft, thie Egletes eye will soone be dymIf thou this rising sunne directly viewe;looke syde waies on the beames that spread from him;faire peace, rich plentie, and religion true

Besides a guard of blessed angells houerabout his sacred person, day and night;and with invisible winges his head doe cover,that dangers dartes thereon may never light

When by these proper notes thowe shalt him ken,fly towardes him with winges of love and feare;like fire which most doth wane and tremble thenwhen it doth mount most high and burne most cleare.

Yet on; for wingèd time with the[e] goes on,which like old Æ'son hath his youth renewd;his hower glase turnèd and his sickle gone,and all his graye and broken fethers mewd.

On, for the braue yong sonn aboue his headComes Northward, that he may his glorie meete;whilest the fresh earth in all her pride doth spreadgreene veluit carpettes vnderneath his feete.

On, for thee birds will help to fill thie songe,whereto all english harte stringes doe agree;And the Irish harpe stringes, that did iarre soe longto make the musicke full, nowe tunèd be.

There is noe eye cast downe, there is noe voicethat to pronounce the harte assent, is dombe;the world of thinges doth everie where reioyce,in certaine hope of blessed times to come

Thousandes while they possesse and fill the waiesdoth both desire, and hinder his repaire;they fill the emptie heaven with praier and praise,which he requites with demonstrations faire.

Then what hast thowe to doe, and what remaines?praie as the people doth, and add but thisThis little wish; that whiles he lives and raignes,he maye be still the same, that nowe he is.

John Dauis.

TO THE KINGE

UPON HIS MA'TIES FIRST COMMING INTO ENGLAND.

O now or neuer, gentle Muse, be gaye:And mount up higher with thy paper winges,Than doth the larke when hee sallutes the daye,And to the morne a merry wellcome singes.Thou must goe meete King James, upon the wayAdvanceing Southward, with his golden trayne;And know him too thou maist at first survaye,by proper noates and by distinctions plaine.By his faire outward formes, and princely port,By honour done to him with cap and knee,Hee is distinguist to the vulgar sort:but truer characters will rise to thee.Thy sight had once an influence divine,Which gaue it power the Soule of man to vew:Wipe and make cleare that dazled eye of thine,and thou shall see his reall markes and true.Looke over all that divers troope, and findeWho hath his spirits most joviall and free;Whose body is best tempred, and whose mindis ever best in tune; and that is he.See who it is, whose actions doe bewrayeThat threefold power, which rarely mixt wee see;A judgment grave, and yett a fancy gayejoynd with a rich remembrance, That is hee.Marke who it is, that hath all noble skill,Which may to publicke good referrèd bee:The sharpest witte and best affected will,whence floes a streame of vertues, That is hee.If any more than other clearely wise,Or wisely just, or justly valiant bee;If any doe faint pleasure more dispiseor bee more maister of himselfe, its hee.But soft, thine eagle's eye will soone bee dim,If thou this risinge sonne directly vewe:Looke sidewayes on the beames that spread from him,[271]Faire peace, with Plenty, and Religion true.With that strong g'ard of Angells which doe houerAbout his sacred person, daye and night:And with invissible winges his head doe cover,that danger's darts thereon may neuer light.Now on, for wingèd Time with thee goes on,Which like old Æson hath his youth renewed,His hower glasse turnd, and his sickle gon,and all his graye and broken feathers mewd.On, for the brave young sonne above his headComes North ward, that hee may his glory meete;While the fresh Earth in all her pride doth spread,greene velvett carpetts underneath his feete.On, for the birdes will helpe to fill the songe,Whereto all English hartstringes will agree:An' th' Irish harpstringes that have jarrd soe longe,to make the Musicke full, now tunèd bee.There is noe eye cast downe, there is no voyceWhich to expresse the harts assent, is dumbe:The world of thinges doth every where rejoyceIn certaine hope of blessed times to come.While thousands doe posses and fill the wayes,The[y] both desire and hinder his repaire;They fill the emptie aire with prayer and praise,which hee requitts with demonstrations faire.

O now or neuer, gentle Muse, be gaye:And mount up higher with thy paper winges,Than doth the larke when hee sallutes the daye,And to the morne a merry wellcome singes.

Thou must goe meete King James, upon the wayAdvanceing Southward, with his golden trayne;And know him too thou maist at first survaye,by proper noates and by distinctions plaine.

By his faire outward formes, and princely port,By honour done to him with cap and knee,Hee is distinguist to the vulgar sort:but truer characters will rise to thee.

Thy sight had once an influence divine,Which gaue it power the Soule of man to vew:Wipe and make cleare that dazled eye of thine,and thou shall see his reall markes and true.

Looke over all that divers troope, and findeWho hath his spirits most joviall and free;Whose body is best tempred, and whose mindis ever best in tune; and that is he.

See who it is, whose actions doe bewrayeThat threefold power, which rarely mixt wee see;A judgment grave, and yett a fancy gayejoynd with a rich remembrance, That is hee.

Marke who it is, that hath all noble skill,Which may to publicke good referrèd bee:The sharpest witte and best affected will,whence floes a streame of vertues, That is hee.

If any more than other clearely wise,Or wisely just, or justly valiant bee;If any doe faint pleasure more dispiseor bee more maister of himselfe, its hee.

But soft, thine eagle's eye will soone bee dim,If thou this risinge sonne directly vewe:Looke sidewayes on the beames that spread from him,[271]Faire peace, with Plenty, and Religion true.

With that strong g'ard of Angells which doe houerAbout his sacred person, daye and night:And with invissible winges his head doe cover,that danger's darts thereon may neuer light.

Now on, for wingèd Time with thee goes on,Which like old Æson hath his youth renewed,His hower glasse turnd, and his sickle gon,and all his graye and broken feathers mewd.

On, for the brave young sonne above his headComes North ward, that hee may his glory meete;While the fresh Earth in all her pride doth spread,greene velvett carpetts underneath his feete.

On, for the birdes will helpe to fill the songe,Whereto all English hartstringes will agree:An' th' Irish harpstringes that have jarrd soe longe,to make the Musicke full, now tunèd bee.

There is noe eye cast downe, there is no voyceWhich to expresse the harts assent, is dumbe:The world of thinges doth every where rejoyceIn certaine hope of blessed times to come.

While thousands doe posses and fill the wayes,The[y] both desire and hinder his repaire;They fill the emptie aire with prayer and praise,which hee requitts with demonstrations faire.

TO THE QUEENE AT THE SAME TIME.

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