Ripe grapes depend on carelesse brambles' tops,
Hard oakes sweat hony, form'd in dewy drops.
Yet some few steps of former fraudes remaine,
Which men to trie, the sea with ships constraine,
With strengthning walles their cities to defend,
And on the ground long furrowes to extend,
A second Tiphys, and new Argo then,
Shall leade to braue exploits the best of men,
The warre of Troy that towne againe shall burne,
And great Achilles thither shall returne.
But when firme age a perfect man thee makes,
The willing sayler straight the seas forsakes,
The pine no more the vse of trade retaines,
Each countrie breeds all fruits, the earth disdaines
The harrowe's weight, and vines the sickle's strokes;
Strong ploughmen let their bulls go free from yokes,
Wooll feares not to dissemble colours strange,
But rammes their fleeces then in pastures change
To pleasing purple or to saffron die,

And lambes turne ruddy, as they feeding lie.
The Fates, whose wills in stedfast end agree,
Command their wheeles to run, such daies to see.
Attempt great honours, now the time attends,
Deare childe of gods, whose line from loue descends.
See how the world with weight declining lies;
The earth, the spacious seas, and arched skies:
Behold againe, how these their griefe asswage
With expectation of the future age:

O that my life and breath so long would last
To tell thy deeds! I should not be surpast
By Thracian Orpheus, nor if Linus sing,
Though they from Phoebus and the Muses spring:
Should Pan (Arcadia iudging) striue with me,
Pan by Arcadia's doome would conquer'd be.
Begin, thou little childe; by laughter owne
Thy mother, who ten months hath fully knowne
Of tedious houres: begin, thou little childe,
On whom as yet thy parents neuer smil'd,
The god with meate hath not thy hunger fed,
Nor goddesse laid thee in a little bed.

AN EPIGRAM CONCERNING MAN'S LIFE,

COMPOSED BY CRATES, OR POSIDIPPUS.

WHAT Course of life should wretched mortals take?
In courts, hard questions, large contention make,
Care dwels in houses, labour in the field,
Tumultuous seas affrighting dangers yeeld.
In forraine lands thou neuer canst be blest;
If rich, thou art in feare; if poore, distrest.
In wedlock, frequent discontentments swell:
Vnmarried persons, as in desarts dwell.

How many troubles are with children borne ?
Yet he that wants them, counts himselfe forlorne.
Young men are wanton, and of wisedome void :
Gray haires are cold, vnfit to be imploid.
Who would not one of these two offers choose:
Not to be borne, or breath with speede to loose?

THE ANSWER OF METRODORUS.

1x euery way of life, true pleasure flowes, Immortall fame, from publike action growes : Within the doores is found appeasing rest; In fields, the gifts of Nature are exprest. The sea brings gaine, the rich abroad prouide To blaze their names, the poore their wants to hide: All housholds best are govern'd by a wife; Mis cares are light, who leades a single life.

Sweet children are delights, which marriage blesse :
He that hath none, disturbs his thoughts the lesse
Strong youth can triumph in victorious deeds:
Old age the soule with pious motion feeds.
All states are good, and they are falsly led,
Who wish to be vnborne, or quickly dead.

THIS

HORAT. LIB. II. SAT. VI.

HIS was my wish: no ample space of ground,
T' include my garden with a mod'rate bound,
And neere my house a fountaine neuer dry,
A little wood, which might my wants supply:
The gods haue made me blest with larger store:
It is sufficient, I desire no more,

O sonne of Maia! but this grant alone,
That quiet vse may make these gifts mine owne
If I increase them by no lawlesse way,
Nor through my fault will cause them to decay;
If not to these fond hopes my thoughts decline,
O that this ioyning corner could be mine,
Which with disgrace deformes and maimes my field;
Or Fortune would a pot of siluer yeeld,
(As vnto him who, being hir'd to worke,
Discouer'd treasure, which in mold did lurke,
And bought the land, which he before had till'd,
Since friendly Hercules his bosome fill'd)
If I with thankfull minde these blessings take,
Let fat in all things, but my wit, be seene,
Disdaine not this petition which I make.
And be my safest guard as thou hast been.
When from the citty I my selfe remoue
Vp to the hills, as to a towre aboue,
I find no fitter labours, nor delights,
Than Satyres, which my lowly Muse indites:
No foule ambition can me there expose
To danger, nor the leaden wind that blowes
From southerne parts, nor Autumne's grieuous raine,
Whence bitter Libitina reapes her gaine.
O father of the morning's purple light!
Or if thou rather would'st be lanus' hight,
From whose diuine beginning mortalls draw
The paines of life, according to the law,
Which is appointed by the gods' decree,
Thou shalt the entrance of my verses be.
At Rome thou driu'st me, as a pledge to goe,
That none himselfe may more officious show.
Although the fury of the northerne blast
Shall sweepe the earth; or Winter's force hath cast
The snowy day into a narrow sphere,

I must proceede, and hauing spoken cleare
And cirtaine truth, must wrestle in the throng,
Where, by my haste, the slower suffer wrong,
And crie, "What ayles the mad man? whither

tend

His speedy steps?" while mine imperious friend
Intreates, and chafes, admitting no delay,
And I must beate all those that stop my way.
The glad remembrance of Mecenas lends
A sweete content: but when my journey beads
To blacke Esquiliæ, there a hundred tides
Of strangers' causes presse my head and sides.
"You must, before the second houre, appeare
In court to morrow, and for Roscius sweare.
The scribes desire you would to them repaire,
About a publike, great, and new affaire,
Procure such fauour from Mecænas' band,
As that his seale may on this paper stand."

The shepheard now his sickly flocke restores,
With shades, and riners, and the thickets finds
Of rough Siluanus, silent shores

Are free from playing winds.

To keepe the state in order is thy care,

Sollicitous for Rome, thou fear'st the warres,
Which barbrous easterne troopes prepare,
And Tenais vs'd to arres.

The wise Creator from our knowledge biles
The end of future times in darksome night;
Te thoughts of mortals he derides,

When them vaine toyes affright.

With mindfull temper present houres compose, The rest are like a rider, which, with ease, Song times within his channel! flowes

No forse can make that voide, which once is past, Those things are neuer alter'd, or vndone, Which from the instant rolling fast,

With flying moments run.

Proud Fortune, ioyfull sad affaires to find,
Insulting in her sport, deligh's to change
Vncertaine honours: quickly kinde,
And straight againe as strange.

I prayse her stay; but if she stirre her wings,
Her gifts I leane, and to my seke retire,
Wrapt in my vertue: honest things

In want no dowre require.

When Lybian stormes the mast in pieces shake, neuer God with pray'rs and vowes implore,

Lest precious wares addition 'make

To greedy Neptune's store.

Then I, contented with a little bote,

Am through Egean waues by winds conuay'd, Where Pollux makes me safely flote, And Castor's friendly aide.

HORAT. EPOD. II.

When Autumne from the ground his head vpreares,
With timely apples chain'd,

How glad is he to plucke ingrafted peares,
And grapes with purple staiu'd!
Thus he Priapus or Syluanus payes,

Who keeps his limits free,

His weary limbes in holding grasse he layes,
Or vuder some old tree.

Along the lofty bankes the waters slide,

The birds in woods lament,

The springs with trickling streames the ayre diuide,
Whence gentle sleepes are lent.

But when great loue, in winter's days, restores
Vnpleasing showres and snowes,

With many dogs he driues the angry bores
To shares which them oppose.

His slender nets, dispos'd on little stakes,
The greedy thrush preuent:

The fearefull hare and forraine crane he takes,
With this reward content.

Who will not in these ioyes forget the cares,
Which oft in loue we mecte?

But when a modest wife the trouble shares
Of house and children sweete,

(Like Sabines or the swift Apulians' wiues)
Whose cheekes the sun-beames harme,
When from old wood she sacred fire contriues,
Her weary mate to warme,

When she with hurdles her glad flockes confines,
And their full vdders dries,

And from sweet vessels drawes the yearely wines,
And meates vnbought supplies;

No Luerine oysters can my palate please,
Those fishes I neglect,

Which tempests thundring on the easterne seas
Into our waues direct.

No bird, from Afrike sent, my taste allowes,
Nor fowle which Asia breeds:

The oliue (gather'd from the fatty boughes)
With more delight me feeds.

Sowre herbs, which lone the meades, or mallow
To ease the body pain'd ;

[good

A lambe which sheds to Terminus her blood,

Or kid from wolues regain'd.

What joy is at these feasts, when well-fed flocks
Themsclues for home prepare?

Or when the weake necke of the weary oxe
Drawes back th' inuerted share?

When slaucs (the swarmes that wealthy houses
Neere smiling Lar sit downe,

[charge

This life when Alphius hath describ'd at large,
Inclining to the clowne,

He at the Ides calles all that money in,.
Which he hath let for gaine :

But when the next month shall his course begin,
He puts it out againe

PER. SAT. II.

MACRINUS, let this happy day be knowne
As white, and noted with a better stone,
Which to thine age doth sliding yeeres combine:
Before thy genius powre forth cups of wine;
Thy pray'rs expect no base and greedy end,
Which to the gods thou closely must commend:
Though most of those whom honours lift on bigh
In all their offrings silent incense frie,

All from the temple are not apt to take
Set lowly sounds, and open vowes to make.
The gifts of minde, fame, faith, he vtters cleare,
That strangers may farre off his wishes hcare:
But this be mumbles vnderneath his tongue :
"O that mine vnkle's death, expected long,
Would bring a fun'rall which no cost shall lacke!
O that a pot of siluer once would cracke
Reneath my harrow, by Alcides sent !

that I could the orphan's hopes preuent, To whom I am next here, and must succeed! Since swelling humours in his body breed, Which threaten oft the shortnesse of his life.) How blest is Nerius, thrice to change his wife!" Those are the holy pray'rs for which thy head When first the morning hath her mantle spred) is dipt so many times in Tiber's streames, Where running waters purge the nightly dreames. 1 thus demand in answer be not slow, It is not much that I desire to know:

Of love what think'st thou? if thy judgement can
Esterme him juster than a mortall inan?
Than Stains? doubt'st thou which of these is best,
To judge aright the fatherlesse opprest?
The speech with which thine impious wishes dare
Prophane Ione's eares, to Staius now declare:
"O loue! O good loue!" he will straight ex-
claime,

And shall not Ioue crie out on his owne name?
For parden canst thou hope, because the oke

soner by the sacred brimstone broke,

When thander teares the ayre, than thou and thine,
Because thou ly'st not, as a dismall signe
la woods, while entrailes, and Ergennae's art,
Bid all from thy sad carkase to depart,
Will therefore Ioue his foolish beard extend,
For thee to pull? What treasure canst thou spend
To make the ezres of gods by purchase thine?
Can lights and bowels bribe the pow'rs diuine?
Some grandame, or religious aunt, whose joy
Is from the cradle to take out the boy,
lo lustrall spittle her long finger dips,
And expiates his forehead and his lips.
Her cunning from bewitching eyes defends,
Then in her armes she dandles him, and sends
Her slender hope, which humble vowes propound
To Crassus' house, or to Licinius' ground.

Let kings and queenes wish him their sonne in law;
Let all the wenches him in pieces draw;
May en'ry stalke of grasse on which he goes,
Be soone transform'd into a fragrant rose.

No sich request to nurses I allow :

love, (though she pray in white) refuse her vow. Thu would'st firme sinewes haue, a body strong, Which may in age continue able long;

But thy grosse meates and ample dishes stay
The gods from granting this, and Ioue delay.
With hope to raise thy wealth, thou kill'st an oxe,
levoking Hermes: "Blesse my house and flockes."
How can it be (vaine foole!) when in the fires
The melted fat of many steeres expires?
Yet still thou think'st to ouercome at last,
While many offrings in the flame are cast:

Now shall my fields be large, my sheepe increase; Now will it come! now! now!" Nor wilt thou

cease,

Fitill deceiu'd, and in thy hopes deprest, Thon sigh'st to see the bottome of thy chest. When I to thee haue cups of siluer brought, Or gifts in solid golden metall wrought,

The left side of thy brest will dropping sweate,
And full of ioy thy trembling heart will beate.
Hence comes it, that with gold in triumph berue,
Thou do'st the faces of the gods adorne :
Among the brazen brethren they that send
Those dreames, where euill humours least extend,
The highest place in men's affections hold,
And for their care receiue a beard of gold:
The glorious name of gold hath put away
The vse of Saturne's brasse, and Numa's clay.
This glitt'ring pride to richer substance turnes
The Tuscan earthen pots and vestali vrnes.
O crooked soules, declining to the carch,
Whose empty thoughts forget their heau'nly birth:
What end, what profit, haue we, when we strive
Our manners to the temples to deriue?
Can we suppose, that to the gods we bring
Some pleasing good for this corrupted spring?
This flesh, which casia doth dissolue and spoyle,
And with that mixture taints the natiue oyle:
This boyles the fish with purple liquor full,
And staines the whitenesse of Calabrian wooll.
This from the shell scrapes out the pearle, and

straines

From raw rude earth the feruent metal's veines.
This sinnes, it sinnes, yet makes some vse of vice:
But tell me, ye great flamins, can the price
Raise gold to more account in holy things,
Than babies, which the maide to Venus brings?
Nay, rather let vs yeeld the gods such gifts,
As great Messallae's off-spring neuer lifts,
In costly chargers stretcht to ample space,
Because degen'rate from his noble race:

A soule, where iust and pious thoughts are chain'd;
A mind, whose secret corners are vnstain'd;
A brest, in which all gen'rous vertues lie,
And paint it with a neuer-fading die.
Thus to the temples let me come with zeale,
The gods will heare me, though I offer meale.

AVSON. IDYLL. XVI.

A MAN, both good and wise, whose perfect mind
Apollo cannot in a thousand find,
As his owne iudge, himselfe exactly knowes,
Secure what lords or vulgar brests suppose :
He, like the world, an equall roundnesse beares,
On his smooth sides no outward spot appeares :
He thinkes, how Cancer's starre increaseth light,
How Capricorne's cold tropicke lengthens night,
And by just scales will all his actions trie,
That nothing sinke too low, nor rise too high,
That corners may with euen parts incline,
And measures erre not with a faulty line,
That all within be solid, lest some blow
Should by the sound the empty vessell show.
Ere he to gentle sleepe his eyes will lay,
His thoughts reuolue the actions of the day,
"What houres from me with dull neglect hate

taste;

[warres,

He neuer fear'd the seas in trade, nor sound of Nor, in hoarse courts of law, hath felt litigious iarres ;

Vnskilfull in affaires, he knowes no city neare, So freely he enjoyes the sight of Heau'n more cleare; The yeeres by seu'rall corne, not consuls, he computes, [the fruits; He notes the Spring by flowres, and Autumne by One space put downe the Sunne, and brings againe the rayes.

Thus by a certaine orbe he measures out the dayes, Remembring some great oke from small beginning spred, [was bred. He sees the wood grow old, which with himselfe Verona, next of townes, as farre as India seemes, And for the ruddy sea, Benacus he esteemes: Yet still his armes are firme, his strength vntam'd and greene; [seene. The full third age hath him a lusty grandsire Let others trauaile farre, and hidden coasts display, [of way. This man bath more of life, and those haue more

VPON THE TWO GREAT FEASTS OF THE ANNUNCIATION AND RESURRECTION FALLING ON THE SAME DAY, MARCH 25, 1627. THRICE happy day, which sweetly do'st combine Two hemispheres in th' equinoctiall line: The one debasing God to earthly paine, The other raising man to endlesse raigne. Christ's humble steps declining to the wombe, Touch heau'nly scales erected on his tombe: We first with Gabriel must this Prince conuay Into his chamber on the marriage day, Then with the other angels, cloth'd in white, We will adore him in this conqu'ring night: The Sonne of God assuming humane breath, Becomes a subiect to his vassall Death, That graues and Hell laid open by his strife, May gine vs passage to a better life.

See for this worke how things are newly styl'd,
Man is declar'd, almighty! God, a child!
The Worde made flesh, is speechlesse, and the
Light

Begins from clouds, and sets in depth of night;
Behold the Sunne eclips'd for many yeeres,
And en'ry day more dusky robes he weares,
Till after totall darknesse shining faire,
No Moone shall barre his splendour from the aire.
Let faithfull soules this double feast attend
In two processions: let the first descend
The temple's staires, and with a downe-cast eye
Vpon the lowest pauement prostrate lie,
In creeping violets, white lillies shine
Their humble thoughts, and eu'ry pure designe;
The other troope shall climbe, with sacred heate,
The rich degrees of Salomon's bright seate,
In glowing roses feruent zeale they beare,
And in the azure flowre-de-lis appeare
Celestiall contemplations, which aspire
Aboue the skie, vp to th' immortal quire.

OF THE EPIPHANY.

FAIRE easterne starre, that art ordain'd to runne
Before the sages, to the rising Sunne,
Here cease thy course, and wonder that the cloud
Of this poore stable can thy Maker shroud:
Ye, heauenly bodies, glory to be bright,
And are esteem'd, as ye are rich in light:
But here on Earth is taught a diff'rent way,
Since vnder this low roofe the Highest lay;
lerusalem erects her stately towres,
Displayes her windowes, and adornes her bowres :
Yet there thou must not cast a trembling sparke.
Let Herod's palace still continue darke,
Each schoole and synagogue thy force repels,
There Pride, enthron'd in misty errours, dwels.
The temple, where the priests maintaine their
quire,

Shall taste no beame of thy celestiall fire.
While this weake cottage all thy splendour takes,
A joyfull gate of eu'ry chinke it makes.
Here shines no golden roofe, no ju'ry staire,
No king exalted in a stately chaire,
Girt with attendants, or by heralds styl'd,
But straw and hay inwrap a speechlesse child;
Yet Sabae's lords before this babe vnfold
Their treasures, off'ring incense, myrrh, and gold.
The cribbe becomes an altar; therefore dies
No oxe nor sheepe, for in their fodder lies
The Prince of Peace, who, thankfull for his bed,
Destroyes those rites, in which their blood was shed!
The quintessence of earth he takes and fees,
And precious gummes distill'd from weeping trees,
Rich metals, and sweet odours, now declare
The glorious blessings, which his lawes prepare
To cleare vs from the base and lothsome flood
Of sense, and make vs fit for angels' food,
Who lift to God for vs the holy smoke
Of feruent pray'rs, with which we him inuoke,
And trie our actions in that searching fire,
By which the seraphims our lips inspire:
No muddy drosse pure min'ralls shall infect,
We shall exhale our vapours vp direct:

No stormes shall crosse, nor glitt'ring lights deface Perpetuall sighes, which seeke a happy place,