He calles his daughters from their secret caues,
(Their snowy necks are seene aboue the waues)
And saith to them: "Behold the onely sonne
Of that great lord, about whose kingdomes run
Our liquid currents, which are made his owne,
And with moyst bulwarks guard his sacred throne:
See how his lookes delight, his gestures moue
Admire and praise, yet flye from snares of loue:
Not Thetes, with her beauty and her dowre,
Can draw this Peleus to her watry bowre,
He loues a nymph of high and heau'nly race,
'The eu'ning Sunne doth homage to her face,
Hesperian orchards yeeld her golden fruit,
He tooke this iourney in that sweet pursuit."
When thus their father ends, the Nereids throw
Their garlands on this glorious prince, and strow
His way with songs, in which the hopes appeare
Of ioyes too great for humane cares to heare.
ANNIVERSARY DAY OF THE PRINCE'S
RETURNE,
WE now admire their doctrine, who maintaine
The world's creation vnder Autumne's reigne,
When trees abound in fruit, grapes swell with iuice,
These meates are ready for the creatures' vse :
Old Time resolues to make a new suruay
Of yceres and ages from this happy day,
Refusing those accounts which others bring,
He crownes October, as of monetbs the king.
No more shall hoary Winter claime the place,
And draw cold proofes from Janus' double face;
Nor shall the Ram, when Spring the Earth adornes,
Vnlocke the gate of Heau'n with golden hornes:
Dry Summer shall not of the Dog-starre boast,
(Of angry constellations honour'd most)
From whose strong heate Egyptians still begun,
To marke the turning circle of the Sunne.
Vertumnus, who hath lordly power to change
The seasons, and can them in order range,
Will from this period fresh beginning take,
Yet not so much for his Pomonae's sake,
Who then is richly drest to please her spouse,
And with her orchard's treasure deckes her browes.
It is our Charles, whose euer loued name
Hath made this point of Heau'n increase in fame :
Whose long-thought absence was so much deplor'd,
In whom our hopes and all our fruits are stor❜d.
He now attaines the shore, (O blessed day!)
And true Achates waites along his way,
Our wise Anchises for his sonne prouides
This chosen seruant, as the best of guides.
A prince's glory cannot more depend
Epon his crowne, than on a faithfull friend.
MOST ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE CHARLES,
OF THE EXCELLENT VSE OF POEMS.
DIVINE example of obedient heires,
High in my hopes, and second in my prayers:
True image of your father to the life,
Whom Time desir'd, and Fates in iealous strife,
With chearefull voices taught their wheeles to
That such a father might haue such a sonne;
Since God exalts you on this earthly stage,
And giues you wisedome farre aboue your age,
To indge of men, and of their actiue pow'rs:
Let me lay downe the fruits of priuate houres
Before your feet; you neuer will refuse
This gift, which beares the title of a Muse.
Among your serious thoughts, with noble care
You cherish poets, knowing that they are
The starres which light to famous actions giue,
By whom the mem'ries of good princes liue:
You are their prince in a peculiar kind,
Because your father hath their art refin'd.
And though these priests of greatnesse quiet sit
Amid'st the silent children of their wit,
Without accesse of sutours, or dispatch
Of bigh affaires, at which th' ambitious catch;
They are not idle, when their sight they rayse
Beyond the present time to future daies;
And braue examples sage instructions bring
In pleasing verses, which our sonnes may sing
They oft erect their flight aboue the land,
When graue Vrania joyning hand in hand
With soft Thalia, mix their diff'rent strings,
And by their musick make celestiall things;
More fit for humane eares, whose winding rounds
Are easly fill'd with well digested sounds.
Pale Enuy and dull Ignorance reproue
This exercise, as onely apt for loue,
Deuis'd t' allure the sense with curious art;
But not t' enrich the vnderstanding part.
So might they say, the Sunne was onely fram'd
To please the eye, and onely therefore nam'd
The eye of Heau'n, conceiuing not his wheele
Of liuely heate, which lower bodies feele.
Our Muses striue, that cominon-wealths may be
As well from barb'rous deedes as language free:
The seu'rall sounds in harmony combin'd
Knit chaines of vertue in the hearer's mind:
And that he still may haue his teacher by
With measur'd lines, we please his curious eye.
We hold those works of art or nature best,
Where order's steps most fully are exprest:
And therefore all those ciuill men that liue
By law and rule, will to our numbers giue
The name of good, in which perfection rests;
And feele their strokes with sympathyzing brests
Not oratours so much with flowing words
Cau sway the hearts of men, and whet their
swords
Or blunt them at their pleasure, as our straines,
(Whose larger spheare the orbe of prose containes
Can men's affections lessen or increase,
And guide their passions, whisp'ring warre or peace.
Tyrtæus, by the vigour of his verse,
Made Sparta conquer, while his lines reherse
Her former glory, almost then subdude
By stronger foes, and when the people rude
Contend among themselues with mutuall wrongs,
He tempers discord with his milder songs:
This poore lame poet hath an equall praise
With captaines and with states-men of his dayes:
The Muses claime possession in those men,
Who first aduentur'd with a nimble pen
To paint their thoughts in new inuented signes,
And spoke of Nature's workes in numbred lines:
This happy art, compar'd with plainer wayes,
Was sooner borne, and not so soone decayes:
She safer stands from time's deuouring wrong,
As better season'd to continue long;
But as the streames of time still forward flow,
So wits more idle and distrustfull grow :
They yeeld this fort, and cowardly pretend
Prose is a castle easier to defend :
Nor was this change effected in a day,
But with degrees, and by a stealing way:
They pull the Muses' feathers one by one,
And are not seene, till both the wings be gone.
If man, inioying such a precious mine,
Esteem'd his nature almost made diuine,
When he beheld th' expression of his thought,
To such a height, and godlike glory brought;
This change may well his fading ioy confound,
To see it naked, creeping on the ground:
Yet in the lands that honour'd learning's name,
Were alwayes some that kept the vestall flame
Of pow'rfull verse, on whose increase or end
The periods of the soul's chiefe raigne depend.
Now in this realme I see the golden age
Returne to vs, whose comming shall asswage
Distracting strife, and many hearts inspire,
To gather fewell for this sacred fire:
On which, if you, great prince, your eyes will cast,
And, like Fauonius, giue a gentle blast,
The liuely flame shall neuer yeeld to death,
But gaine immortall spirit by your breath.
TO THE PRINCE.
Ir eu'ry man a little world we name,
You are a world most like the greatest frame:
Your loue of learning spreads your glory farre,
Lifts you to Heau'n, and makes you there a starre.
In actiue sports, and formes of martiall deeds,
Like fire and ayre your nimble courage breeds
A rare amazement and a sweet delight
To Britaines, who behold so deare a sight:
Though higher orbes such glorious signes containe,
Doe not (braue prince), this lower globe disdaine.
In pure and fruitfull water we may see
Your minde from darknesse cleare, in bounty free:
And in the steddy resting of the ground,
Your noble firmenesse to your friend is found:
For you are still the same, and where you loue,
No absence can your constant mind remoue.
So goodnesse spreads it selfe with endlesse lines,
And so the light in distant places shines:
He that aduentures of your worth to sing.
Attempts in vaine to paint a boundlesse thing.
YPON THE HAPPY MARRIAGE OF OUR SOUERAIGNE
LORD, KING CHARLES, AND OUR GRACIOUS LADY,
QUEENE MARY.
THE ocean long contended (but in vaine)
To part our shore from France.
Let Neptune shake his mace, and swelling
waues aduance:
The former vnion now returnes againe,
This isle shall once more kisse the maine
Boyn'd with a flowry bridge of loue, on which the More dearely, than all other names within her
END OF HIS MAIESTIE'S FIRST YEERE.
YOUR royall father Iames, the good and great,
Proclaim'd in March, when first we felt the spring,
A world of blisse did to our iland bring:
And at his death he made his yeeres compleate,
Although three days he longer held his seate.
Then from that houre when he reioic'd to sing,
Great Britaine torne before, enioyes a king:
Who can the periods of the starres repeate?
The Sunne, wno in his annuall circle takes
A daye's full quadrant from th' ensuing yeere,
Repayes it in foure yeeres, and equall makes
The number of the dayes within his spheare:
Iames was our earthly Sunne, who, call'd to
Heau'n,
Leaues you his heire, to make all fractions eu'n.
We wish a sonne, hose smile,
Whose beauty, may proclaime him thine,
Who may be worthy of his father's stile,
May answere to our hopes, and strictly may corn-
[land's line.
The happy height of Villiers' race with noble Rut-
Let both their heads be crown'd
With choysest flowers, which shall presage
That loue shall flourish, and delights abound,
Time, adde thou many dayes, nay, ages to their
[asswage.
Yet nener must thy freezing arme their holy fires
Now when they ioyne their hands,
Behold, how faire that knot appeares!
O may the firmenesse of these nuptiall bands
Resemble that bright line, the measure of the
yeeres, [ioynes the hemispheres.
Which makes a league betweene the poles, and
FOR THE FÉLICITY OF MY LORD MAR-
QUESSE OF BUCKINGHAM.
ABOUT the time when dayes are longer made,
When nights are warmer, and the aire more cleare,SEE what a full and certaine blessing flowes
When verdant leaues and fragrant flowres appeare;
Whose beauty winter had constrained to fade.
About the time, when Gabriel's words perswade
The blessed Virgin to incline her eare,
And to conceyue that Sonne, whom she shall beare;
Whose death and rising driue away the shade.
About this time, so oft, so highly blest,
By precious gifts of nature and of grace,
First glorious lames the English crowne possest:
Then gracious Charles succeeded in his place.
For him his subiects wish with hearty words,
Both what this world and what the next affords.
From him that, vnder God, the Earth commands:
For kings are types of God, and by their hands
A world of gifts and honours he bestowes.
The hopefull tree, thus blest, securely growes,
Amidst the waters in a firtile ground; [crown'd,
And shall with leaues, and flowres, and fruites, be
Abundant dew on it the planter throwes.
You are this plant, my lord, and must disposé
Your noble soule, those blossomes to receiue;
Which eucr to the roote of vertue cleaue,
As our Apollo by his skill foreshowes:
Our Salomon, in wisedome and in peace,
Is now the prophet of your faire increase.
TO MY LORD MARQUESSE OF BUCKINGHAM, AND TO
HIS FAIRE AND VERTUOUS LADY',
SEVERE and serious Muse,
Whose quill the name of lone declines, Be not too nice, nor this deare worke refuse: Here Venus stirs no flame, nor Cupid guides thy lines, [Lucina shines. But modest Hymen shakes his torch, and chast The bridegroome's starres arise,
MY LORD OF BUCKINGHAM'S WELCOME
TO THE KING AT BURLEY.
SIR, you haue euer shin'd vpon me bright,
But now, you strike and dazle me with light:
You, England's radiant Sunne, vouchsafe to grace
My house, a sphcare too little and too base:
My Burley as a cabinet containes
The gemme of Europe, which from golden veines
Of glorious princes to this height is growne,
And joynes their precious vertues all in one:
When I your praise would to the world professe;
My thoughts with zeale and earnest feruour presse-
Which should be first, and their officious strife
Restraines my hand from painting you to life.
I write, and hauing written, I destroy,
Because my lines haue bounds, but not my ioy.
And shew the haruest of your constant loue,
In this sweete armefull, which your joy shall proue:
Her sex is signe of plenty, and fore-runnes
The pleasing hope of many noble sonnes :
Who farre abroad their branches shall extend,
And spread their race, till time receiue an end.
Be cuer blest, (faire childe) that hast begunne
So white a threed, by hands of angels spunne:
Thou art the first, and wilt the rest beguile;
For thou shalt rauish with a chearefull smile
Thy parents' hearts, not wonted to such blisse:
And steale the first fruites of a tender kisse.
TO MY LORD MARQUESS OF BUCKINGHAM.
Sta, you are truely great, and euery eye,
Not dinme with enuy, joyes to see you high:
But chiefely mine, which, buried in the night,
Are by your beames rais'd and restor'd to light.
You, onely you, haue pow'r to make me dwell
In sight of men, drawne from my silent cell:
Where oft in vaine my pen would haue exprest
Those precious gifts, in which your minde is blest.
But you as much too modest are to reade
Your prayse, as I too weake your fame to spreade.
All curious formes, all pictures, will disgrace
Your worth, which must be studied in your face,
The liuely table, where your vertue shines
More clearely, than in strong and waighty lines.
In-vaine I striue to write some noble thing,
To make you nobler for that prudent king,
Whose words so oft, you happy are to heare,
Hath made instruction needlesse to your eare:
Yet giue me leaue, in this my silent song,
To shew true greatnesse, while you passe along;
And if you were not humble, in each line
Might owne your selfe, and say,
"This grace
mine."
And must so farre dilate his noble minde,
Till it in Heau'n eternall honour finde.
The order of the blessed spirits there
Must be his rule, while he inhabits here:
He must conceiue that worldly glories are
Vaine shadowes, seas of sorrow, springs of care:
All things which vader Cynthia leade their life,
Are chain'd in darknessc, borne and nurst in strife:
None scapes the force of this destroying flood,
But he that cleaues to God, his constant good:
He is accurst that will delight to dwell
In this black prison, this seditious Hell:
When with lesse paine he may imbrace the light,
And on his high Creator fixe his sight,
Whose gracious presence giues him perfect rest,
And buildes a paradise within his brest:
Where trees of vertues to their height increase,
And beare the flowres of ioy, the fruites of peace.
No enuie, no reuenge, no rage, no pride,
No lust, nor rapine, should his courses guide:
Though all the world conspire to doe him grace,
Yet he is little, and extremely base,
If in his heart these vices take their seate;
(No pow'r can make the slaue of passions great.)
MY LORD OF BUCKINGHAM'S ARMES.
BEHOLD, the ensignes of a Christian knight,
Whose field is, like his minde, of siluer bright:
His bloudy crosse supports fiue golden shels,
A precious pearle in euery scallop dwels:
Fiue vertues grace the middle and the bounds,
Which take their light from Christ's victorious
wounds:
Vpon the top commanding Prudence shines,
Repressing Temp'rance to the foote declines;
Brane Fortitude and Iustice are the hands,
And Charity as in the center stands ;
Which binding all the ends with strong effect,
To euery vertue holds the sanie respect :
May he that beares this shield, at last obtaine
The azure circle of celestiall raigne ;
And hauing past the course of sliding houres,
Enjoy a crowne of neuer-fading flow'rs!
MY LORD OF BUCKINGHAM'S SHIELD AT A TILTING,
HIS IMPRESSE BEING A BIRD OF PARADISE.
SEE how this bird erects his constant flight
Aboue the cloudes, aspiring to the light:
As in a quiet paradise he dwels
In that pure region, where no winde rebels:
And fearing not the thunder, hath attain'd
The palace, where the demigods remaind:
This bird belongs to you, thrice glorious king;
From you the beauties of his feathers spring:
No vaine ambition lifts him vp so high,
But, rais'd by force of your attractiue eye,
He feedes vpon your beames, and takes delight,
Not in his owne ascent, but in your sight.
Let them, whose motion to the Earth declines,
Describe your circle by their baser lines,
First, we behold (and neede not to presage)
What pleasing comfort in this tender age
He giues his parents, sweetning eu'ry day
With deare contentments of his harmelesse play.
They in this glasse their seu'rall beauties place,
And owne themselues in his delightfull face.
But when this flowry bud shall first beginne
To spread his leaues, which were conceal'd within,
And casting off the dew of childish teares,
More glorious then the rose at noone appeares ;
His minde extends it selfe to larger bounds;
Instinct of gen'rous nature oft propounds
(Great duke) your actiue graces to his sight,
As objects full of wonder and delight:
These in his thoughts entire possession keep,
They stop his play, and interrupt his sleepe.
So doth a carefull painter fixe his eyes
Vpon the patterne, which before him lies,
And neuer from the boord his hand withdrawes,
Vntill the type he like th' exemplar cause.
To courtly dancing now he shall decline,
To manage horses, and in armes to shine.
Such ornaments of youth are but the seeds
Of noble vertues, and heroick deeds.
He will not rest in any outward part,
But striues t' expresse the riches of your heart
Within a litle modell, and to frame
True title to succession of your fame.
In riper yeeres he shall your wisedome learne,
And your vndaunted courage shall discerne,
And from your actions, from your words and lookes,
Shall gather rules, which others reade in bookes :
So in Achilles more those lessons wrought,
Which Peleus show'd, than those which Chiron
taught.
THE EARL OF COUENTRY'S' DEPARTURE
FROM VS TO THE ANGELS.
And call'd my Muse to trace thy dayes along;
SWEET babe, whose birth inspir'd me with a song,
Attending riper yeeres, with hope to finde
Such braue endeuours of thy noble minde,
As might deserue triumphant lines, and make
My fore-head bold a lawrell crowne to take:
How hast thou left vs, and this earthly stage,
(Not acting many months) in tender age?
Thou cam'st into this world a little spie,
Where all things that could please the eare and
Were set before thee, but thou found'st them toyes,
And flew'st with scornefull smiles t' eternall ioyes:
No visage of grim Death is sent t'affright
Thy spotlesse soule, nor darknesse blinds thy sight;
But lightsome angels, with their golden wings,
Ore-spread thy cradle, and each spirit brings
Some precious balme, for heau'nly physicke meet,
To make the separation soft and sweet.
The sparke infus'd by God departs away,
And bids the earthly weake companion stay
? See the preceding note. C,
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