i

Worcester Coll Ms 6.13.

Also known as the Clarke Ms

Transcribed February 2015.

This transcript of Philips’ work may be freely used by scholars and students interested in her

poetry and life. Help me to provide as clean a copy for readers as I can by forwarding errors in

transcription to me at ptrolander@berry.edu.

Please cite as: Philips, Katherine. “Title of Poem.” Title of Ms. Date of Ms. Name of Library or

Owner, city. Transcribed by Paul Trolander. Katherinephilips.org. Inclusive pages. Date of

access. Web.

Katherine Fowler Philips (1632-1664) was born and educated in London. At the age of

sixteen, she married James Philips, whose family had prominent gentry connections throughout

Pembrokeshire and Cardiganshire. James' positions in Cromwell's government often brought

Katherine back to London where she and her friends socialized at the home and salon of Henry

Lawes (former court musician and band leader). Her songs were performed at Lawes' concerts

and found their way into editions of his songbooks printed in the 1650s. This inner circle of

friends and family served as both the inspiration and audience for her early friendship

poetry. When Charles II returned to England in 1661, James lost his government positions and

was exiled to his family seat in Cardigan. During this time, Katherine appears to have worked

her royalist connections to cultivate a strong friendship with courtier Sir Charles Cotterell. With

his help, Katherine's verse became popular at White Hall, providing a spring board to a career as

a print poet and translator. With the material aid of Charles Boyle, Earl of Orrery, and other Irish

courtiers, Katherine staged and printed her translation of Corneille's rhyming tragedy Pompey in

Dublin and in London. After this success, Sir Charles Cotterell and Lady Mary Aubrey Montagu

worked hard to find James a position in Charles II's government, so that Katherine could return

to London to further her writing career. Katherine Philips, on the verge of great success, died in

London of smallpox while at work on her translation of Corneille's Horace.

Editor Bio: Paul Trolander, scholar of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century English literary

culture, specializes in the history of criticism and small group interactions among literary

networks. His monograph Literary Sociability in Early Modern England, the Epistolary Record,

1620-1720, examines early modern literary sociability from the perspective of letter exchange.

Sociable Criticism in England, 1625 to 1725 (Delaware, 2007), written with co-author Prof.

Zeynep Tenger, explores how cultural modes of sociability impacted genres of print criticism in

the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. He is a professor in the English Department at

Berry College.

https://berry.academia.edu/PaulTrolander

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Adam Matthews description:

Worcester Coll Ms 6.13 Clarke Ms 73 poems

Folio, 281pp (plus blanks), written c1662. A verse miscellany commencing with Abraham

Cowley's commendatory poem on Orinda and largely featuring the poems of Katherine Philips.

There are some later additions from the late 17th and 18th centuries including those of George

Clarke (1661-1736), once owner of this volume (and son of Sir William Clarke (1623?-1736),

Secretary of War to the Commonwealth and Charles II.) Contains 73 poems by Orinda.

Beal CELM description:

http://www.celm-ms.org.uk/repositories/worcester-college-oxford.html

Conventions: Titles are those given in the text transcribed. Poems are numbered first by their

order of placement in Patrick Thomas’s Volume I: The Poems vol. 1 of The Collected Poems of

Katherine Philips, The Matchless Orinda. Stump Cross, Essex: Stump Cross Press, 1990. The

second number in parentheses represents the order of the poems in the text transcribed.

Pagination has been added at the bottom of the page. However, the page breaks reflect those

from the text transcribed.

1

74 (1) Happines Nature Courts happynes, although it be unknowne as ye Athenian Deity It dwels not in mans sence, but he supplies That want by growing fond of it's disguise The false appearances of Joy deceive And seeking her unto her like we cleave For sinning man hath scarce sence left to know Whither the planke he grasps will hold or noe While all ye busines of ye world is this To seeke that good wch by mistake they misse And all ye severall passions Men expresse Are but for pleasure in a different dresse They hope for happines in being greate Or Rich, or loved, then hug their owne conceite; And those wch promise what they never had Ith’middist of Laughter, leave ye spirit sad But ye good man can find this treasure out For wch in vaine others doe dig, & doubt And hath such secret full content within Though all abroad be stormes, yet he can sing tis peace is made, all’s quiet in that place Where nature’s cur'd & exercised by grace His inward calme prevents his Enemies For he canne neither Envy nor despise But in ye Beauty of his orderd mind Doth still a new, rich satisfaccon find Innocent Epicure, whose single breast Can furnish him wth a continuall feast A prince at home, & Scepters can refuse valuing only what he canot loose He studdies to doe good (a man may be Harmelesse for want of Opportunity) But Hee’s industrious kindnes to dispence And therein only covets Eminence Others doe court applause & fame, but he Thinkes all yt giddy noise but vanity. He takes no paines to be observed or seene While all his Acts are Ecchoed from within He still himselfe when company are gone Too well employed ever to be alone For studying god in all his Volumes he Begins ye busines of Eternity And unconcerned wthout retaines a power To sucke like bees a sweete from every flower

2

And as the Manna of ye Israelites Had severall tasts to please all appetites So his contentmt is that Catholicke food That makes all states seeme fit, as well as good. He dares not wish, nor his owne fate propound But (if god sends) reades love in Every wound And would not loose for all ye joyes of Sence The glorious pleasures of Obedience. His better part canne neither change nor loose And all Gods will can doe can beare, & choose. 75 (2) Death

1 How weake a starre doth Rule mankind

wch owes its Ruine to ye same Causes, wch nature had designed

To cherish & preserve ye frame. 2

As Com̅onwealths may be secure And no remote Invasion dread

Yet may a sadder fall endure From traytors in their bosome bred.

3 So while we feele no violence

And on our active health doe trust A secret hand doth snatch us hence

And tumbles us into ye Dust 4

Yet carelessly we runne our race As if we could death's sum̅ons wave

And thinke not on the narrow space Betweene a Table & a grave.

5 But since we cant Death repreive

our Soules & fame we ought to mind For they our Bodies will Survive

That goes beyond, this stayes behind 6

If I be sure my Soule is safe And yt my Accons will provide

My Tombe a nobler Epitaph Then yt I only lived & dyed

7 So that in various accidents

I conscience may & honour keepe I with that Ease & Innocence

shal dye as Infants goe to sleepe

3

72 (3) The World. Wee falsely thinke it due unto our freinds That we should greive for their too early ends He yt Surveyes ye world wth serious Eyes And strips her from her grosse & weake disguise shal find tis Injury to mourne their fate He only dies untimely who dyes late For if ’twere told to children in ye wombe To wt a stage of mischeives they must come Could they foresee wth how much toyle & sweate Men court that guilded nothing being greate What paines they take not to be what they seeme Rating their blisse by others false Esteeme And sacrificing their content to be guilty of grave & serious vanity How each condicon hath its proper thornes And wt one man admires another scornes How frequently their happines they misse And so farre from agreeing wt it is That ye same pson we canne hardly find who is an houre togeather in one mind Sure they would beg a period of their breath And wt we call their birth would count their death Mankind are mad: for none canne live alone Because yr joyes stand by Comparison. And yet they quarrell at Society And strive to kill they know not whom nor why We all live by mistake, delight in dreames Lost to our selves & dwelling in Extreames Rejecting wt we have though nere so good And prizing wt we never understood. Compared to our boystrous inconstancy Tempests are calme and discords Harmony Hence we reverse ye world and yet doe find The god yt made, canne hardly please our mind We live by chance and slip into Events Have all of Beasts except their Innocence The Soule wch no mans power canne reach, a thing That makes each woman man, each man a King Doth so much loose & from its height so fall That some contend to have no Soule at all Tis either not observed or at ye best by passion fought wth all by sin deprest Freedome of will gods Image is forgot And if we know it we improve it not our Thoughts thou nothing canne be more our owne are still unguided very seldome knowne Time 'scapes our hands as water in a Sive We come to dye ere we begin to Live

4

Truth ye most suitable and noble prize Foode of our spirits yet neglected lyes Errors & shadowes are our choise, and we Owe our Perdicon to our owne decree If we search truth we make it more obscure And when it shines we cant the Light endure For most men who plod on and eate and drinke Have nothing lesse their busines then to thinke. And those few that enquire; how small a share of Truth they find? how darke their notions are That serious Evenes that calmes the breast And in a Tempest canne bestow a Rest We either not attempt or else decline By every trifle snatched from our designe (others he must in his deceites involve who is not true unto his owne resolve) We governe not our selves but loose ye reines Courting our bondage to a thousand chaines And wth as many Slaveryes content As there are tyrants ready to torment We live upon a racke, extended still To one extreame or both, but alwayes ill, For since our fortune is not understood We suffer lesse from bad then from ye good The sting is better drest & longer lasts As surfeites are more dangerous than fasts And to compleate ye misery to us We see extreames are still contiguous And as we runne so fast from what we hate Like squibs on Ropes to know no midle state So (outward stormes strengthned by us) we find Our fortune as disordered as our mind But thats excused by this it doth its pte A treacherous world befits a treacherous heart, All ill’s our own; the outward stormes we loath Receive from us their birth, their sting, or both And yt our vanity be past a doubt T'is one new vanity to find it out Happy are they to whom God gives a grave And from themselves as from his wrath doth save Tis good not to be borne, but if we must The next good is soone to returne to dust When ye uncag'd soule fled to Eternity Shall rest, & live & sing & love & see. Here we but crawle & grabbe & play & cry Are first our owne then others Enemy But there shalbe defaced both staine & score For time & death & sin shalbe no more.

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73 (4) The Soule How vaine a thing is man whose noblest part That Soule wch through ye world doth come Traverses heaven, finds out ye depths of Art

yet is so ignorant at home. 2

In Every brooke our Mirrour we can find Reflecons of our face to be

But a true opticke to present our mind We hardly get & darkely see.

3 Yet in ye search after our selves we runne

Accons & causes we Survey And when ye weary chase is almost done

From our Quest we slipp away 4

Tis strange & sad that since we doe beleive we have a Soule must never dye

There are so few yt canne a Reason give How it obteynes yt life, or why

5 I wonder not to find those yt know most

Professe so much their ignorance Since in their owne Soules greatest wits are lost

And of themselves have scarce a glance 6

But some what sure doth here obscurely lye That above Drosse would faine advance

And Pants & Catches at Eternity As ’twere it's owne Inheritance.

7 A Soule selfe moved wch can dilate contract

Peirces & judges things unseene But this grosse heape of matter canot Act

Unles impulsed from within. 8

Distance & Quantity is to bodies due The state of Soules canot admit

And all ye contraries wch nature knew, Meete there nor hurt themselves, nor it

9 God never made body so bright & cleane

Wch good & Evill could discerne What these words honesty & honour meane

The Soule alone knowes how to learne. 10

And though ’tis true shee is imprisoned here Yet hath shee nocion of her owne

Which Sence doth only jog awake & cleare But canot at ye first make knowne.

6

11 The Soule her owne felicity hath layd

And independant on ye Sence Sees the weake terrors wch ye world invade

with pitty or wth negligence 12

So unconcerned shee lives so much above The Rubbish of her Clotty goale

That nothing doth her Energy improve So much as when those structures faile

13 Shees then a Substance Subtile strong & pure

So imateriall & refined As speakes her from ye bodies fate secure

As wholy of a different kind 14

Religion for reward in vaine would looke Virtue were doom'd to misery

All Accons were like bubbles in a brooke Were it not for Im̅ortallity

15 And as that Conquerour who Millions spent

Thought it to meane to give a mite So ye worlds Judge can never be content

To bestow lesse then infinite. 16

Treason agst eternall Maty must have eternall Justice too

And since unbounded love did satisfy He will unbounded Mercy show

17 It is our narrow Thoughts shortens these things

By their companion flesh enclin'd Wch feeling its owne weaknes gladly brings

The same opinion to ye mind. 18

We stifle our owne Sunne & live in shade But where its beames doe once appeare

They make that Person of himselfe afrayd And to his owne Acts most severe

19 For wayes to sin close, & our breasts disguise

From outward search we soone may find But who canne his owne Soule bribe or Surprize

Or sin wthout a sting behind 20

He that com̅ands himselfe is more a Prince Then he who nacons keepes in awe

And those who yield to what their Soules convince Shall never neede another Law.

7

65 (5) L’Accord du bien

1 Order by wch all things are made And this greate worlds foundacon laid Is nothing else but Harmony where different pts are brought to agree.

2 As Empires are still best maintained Those wayes wch first their greatnes gain'd So in this universall frame what made & keepes it is ye same

3 Thus all things unto peace doe tend Even discords have it for their end The cause why Elemts doe fight Is but their instinct to unite.

4 Musicke could never please ye sence But by united Exelence The sweetest note wch numbers know If strucke alone would tedious grow

5 Man, the whole world's Epitomy Is, by Creacon, Harmony ’Twas sin first quarrell'd in his breast Then made him angry wth the rest.

6 But goodnes keepes hat Unity And Loves its owne Society So well yt seldome it is knowne One soule worth to dwell alone

7 And hence it is we freindship call Not, by one virtue’s name but all Nor is it when bad things agree Though union but conspiracy

8 Nature & grace such Enemies That when one fell t'other did rise are now by mercy even set As Stars in constellacons mett.

9 If nature were it selfe a sinne Her author god had guilty bin But man by sin contracting staine Shall purged from yt be cleare againe

10 To prove that Natures Excelent Ev’n sin it selfe's an argumt Therefore we natures staine deplore Because it selfe was pure before.

8

11 And Grace destroyes not but refines Unvailes our Reason, yn it shines Restores what was deprest by sin The fainting beame of god wthin

12 The maine spring Judgmt rectified will all ye lesser mocons guide To spend our labour love & care Not as things seeme but as they are

13 Tis fancy lost, wit throwne away In trifles to employ yt ray Which then doth in full lustre shine When both ingenious & divine.

14 To eyes by humours vitiated All things seeme falsely colored So ’tis our prejudiciall thought That makes cleare objects seeme in fault

15 They scarce beleive united good By whom ’twas never understood They thinke one grace enough for one And tis because their selves have none

16 We hunt Extreames & run so fast we canne no steady Judgment cast He best surveyes the Circuit round who stands in the midle of ye ground

17 That happy meane would let us see Knowledge & meekenes may agree And find when each thing hath its name Passion & Zeale are not the same

18 Who studies God, doth upwards fly And heights still lessen to our Eye And he knowes god himselfe will see Vast cause for his humility

19 For by that search it will be knowne There’s nothing but our will our owne And who doth that stocke so employe But finds more cause for shame then joy

20 We know so little & so darke And so extinguish our owne sparke That he who farthest here can goe Knows nothing as he ought to know

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21 It will wth ye most learned suit More to enquire then to dispute But Vapours swell wthin a cloud And Ignorance ’tis makes us proud.

22 So whom their owne vaine heart belyes Like inflammacons quickly rise But that Soule wch is truly greate Is lowest in its owne conceit

23 Yet whilst we hug our owne mistake We censures but not Judgments make And thence it is we canot see Obedience stand wth liberty.

24 Providence still keepes even state But he can best com̅and his fate Whose art, by adding his owne voice makes his necessity his choise.

25 Rightly to rule one's selfe must be The hardest, largest Monarchy whose passions are his masters growne will be a captive in a throne.

26 He most ye inward freedome gaines Who just submissions entertaines For while in yt his reason swayes It is himselfe yt he obeys;

27 But only in Eternity We canne these beauteous unions see For Heaven it selfe & Glory is But one Harmonious constant blisse. 66 (6) Invitacon to ye Countrey. Be kind my deare Rosania though ’tis true Thy freindship will become thy penance too Though there be nothing canne reward ye paine Nothing to satisfy or Entertaine Though all be empty wilde & like to me Who make new troubles in my Company, yet is ye Accon more obliging-greate ’Tis hardship only makes desert compleate But yet to prove mixtures all things compound There may in this be some advantage found For a retiremt from ye noise of Townes, Is that for wch some kings have left their Crownes And Conquerours whose lawrell prest yr brow Have changed it for ye quiet mirtle bough

10

For titles honours & ye worlds addresse Are things too cheape to make up happiness The easy tribute of a giddy race And payde lesse to ye pson then the place So false reflected & so short content Is yt wch fortune & Opinion lent That who most tryed it have of fate complain'd with titles burthened & to gtnes chain'd For they alone enjoy'd what they possest who rellist most & understood it best And yet yt understanding made them know The empty swift dispatch of all below So that what most can outward things endeare Is the best meanes to make them disappeare And even yt Tyrant sence doth these destroy As more officious to our greife then joy Thus all ye glittering world is but a cheat obtruding on our sence things grosse for greate But he yt canne enquire & undisguise Will soone perceive ye thing yt hidden lyes And find no Joyes merit Esteeme but those Whose Scene lyes wholy at our owne dispose Man unconcerned wthout himselfe may be His owne both prospect & security Kings may be slaves by their owne passions hurled But who comands himselfe comands the world A Countrey life assists this Studdy best When no distraccons doe ye Soule arest There heaven & Earth lye open to our veiw There we search nature & its author too Possest wth freedome & a Reall state Looke downe on Vice & Vanity & fate. There (my Rosania) will we mingling soules Pitty the folly wch ye world controules And all those Grandeures wch ye most doe prize We either can enjoy or canne despise 67 (7) In memory of Mrs E H As some choise plant cherished by Sunne & aire And ready to requite ye Gardiners care Blossomes & flourishes, but then we find Is made ye Triumph of some ruder wind So thy untimely grave did both entombe Thy sweetnes now & wonders yet to come Hung full of hopes thou fels't a lovely prize Just as thou didst attract all hearts & eyes.

11

Thus we might apprehend for had thy yeares Beene lengthened to have payd those vast arreares The world expected, we should then conclude The age of Miracles had beene renew'd For thou already had wth ease found out what others study wth such paines & doubt That frame of Soule wch is content alone And needs no Entertainment but its owne Thy even mind wch made thee good & great Was to thee both a shelter & retreate On all the tumults wch the world doe fill Thou wert an unconcerned spectatour still And were thy duty punctually supplyed Indifferent to all ye world beside, Thou wert made up within resolv'd & fixt And coulds not wth a base allay be mixt Above ye world couldst equally despise Both its Temptacons & its Injuries Couldst sum̅e up all & find not worth desire Those glittering Trifles wch ye most admire But wth a nobler aime, & nobler borne Looked downe on greatnes wth contempt & scorne Thou hadst no Arts that others this might see Nor lovedst a trumpet to thy piety But silent & retired calme and serene Stolest to thy blessed haven hardly seene It were to describe thee then; but now Thy vast accession harder is to know How full of Light & satisfied thou art So early from this treachearous world to pte How pleas'd thou art refleccons now to make And findst thou didst not things below mistake In how abstracted a converse doest live how much thy Knowledge is intuitive How greate & bright a glory is enjoy'd with Angels, & in mysteries employed ’Tis sin then to lament thy fate but wee Should helpe thee to a new Eternity And by successive Imitacon strive Till time shall dye to keepe thee still alive And (by thy greate example furnished) be More apt to live then write thy Elegy

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11 (8) On ye 3d September 1651 As when ye glorious Magazine of Light Approaches to his Canopy of night He wth new splendor cloathes his dying Rayes And double-brightnes to his beames conveys As if to brave & checke his ending fate Puts on his highest Lookes in his lowest Estate. Drest in such terror as to make us all Be Anti-Persians & adore his fall Then quits ye world depriving it of day While every Herbe & Plant does droope away So when our gasping English Royalty Perceiv'd her period now was drawing nigh Shee sum̅ons her whole strenght to give one blow To raise her selfe or pull down others too. Big wth revenge & hope shee now spake more of Terror then in many Moneths before And musters her Attendants, Or to Save Her from, or waite upon her to ye grave Yet but enjoy'd ye miserable fate Of sitting Majesty to dye in State. Unhappy Kings! who canot keepe a throne Nor be so fortunate to fall alone Their weight sinks others; Pompey could not fly, But halfe ye world must beare him Company And captiv'd Sampson could not life conclude Unles attended wth a Multitude Who'de trust to greatnes now, whose food is aire whose ruine sudden & whose end despaire? Who would presume upon his glorious birth Or quarrell for a spacious share of Earth That sees such Diadems become thus cheape And Heroes tumble in ye com̅on heape Oh give me virtue then wch Sum̅es up all And firmely stands when crownes & scepters fall. 64 (9) A Freind. Love, Natures plott, this greate creation’s soule

The being & the Harmony of things Doth still preserve & propagate ye whole

From whence mans happynes & safety springs The Earlist, whitest, blessed’st times did draw

From her alone their Universall Law 2

Freindship is abstract of this noble flame Tis love refin'd & purg'd from all its drosse

The next to Angel's love if not ye same Stronger passion is though not so grosse It antedates a glad Eternity And is a heaven in Epitomy

13

3 Nobler then kindred or their Marriage band

because more free, wedlocke felicity It=selfe doth only by this Union stand

And turnes to freindship or to misery Force or designe matches to passe may bring But freindship doth from love & honour spring.

4 If Soules noe sexes have for men to exclude

Women from freindships vast capacity Is a designe injurious or rude

Only mainteyn'd by partiall Tyranny Love is allowed to us & Innocence And noblest freindships doe proceede fro thence

5 The chiefest thing in freinds is Simpathy There is a secret yt doth freindship guide Wch makes two soules before they know agree

who by a thousand mixtures are allyed And changed & lost so yt it is not knowne Within wch breast doth now reside their owne

6 Essentiall honour must be in a freind

Not such as every breath fans to & fro But borne wthin is it's owne Judge & end

And dares not sin though sure yt none should know Where freindship’s spoke honesty’s understood For none can be a freind yt is not good

7 Freindship doth carry more then com̅on trust

And treachery is here ye greatest sin Secrets deposed then none ever must

Presume to open but who put them in They yt in one chest lay up all their stocke Had neede be sure yt none can picke ye locke

8 A breast too open freindship does not love

For yt the others trust will not conceale Nor one too much reserv'd canne it approve

Its owne condicon this will not reveale We empty Passions for a double end To be refresh'd & guarded by a freind.

14

9 Wisdome & knowledge freindship does require

The first for Council this for Company And though not mainly yet we may desire

Both Complaisance & Ingenuity Though every thing may love yet ’tis a Rule He cant be a freind yt is a foole.

10 Discrection uses pts & best knowes how

And patience will all qualities com̅end That serves a neede best, but this will allow

The weaknesses & passions of a freind We are not yet come to ye Quire above Who canot pardon here, canne never love

11 Thicke waters shew no Images of things

Freinds are each others Mirrours & should be Clearer than Christall or ye mountaine springs

And free from cloudes designe or flattery, For Vulgar Soules no part of freindship share Poets and freinds are borne to what they are.

12 Freinds should observe & chide each others faults

To be severe then is most just & kind Nothing can ‘scape their search who know ye thought,

This they should give & take wth equall mind For freindship when this freedome is denyed Is like a painter when his hands are tyed

13 A freind should find out each necessity,

And yn unaskt reliev't at any rate It is not freindship but formallity

To be desired, for kindnes keepes no state. Off freinds he doth ye benefactour prove That gives his freind a meanes to Expresse his love.

14 Absence doth not from freindships rites excuse

They who preserve each others heart & fame Parting can ne’re divide; it may diffuse

As liquors wch asunder are ye same Though presence helpt them at ye first to greet Their Soules know now wthout those aids to meete

15 Constant & solid whom no stormes canne shake

Nor death unfix a Right freind ought to be And if condemned to survive doth make

No second choise but greife & memory But freindships best fate is, when it canne spend A life, a fortune, All to serve a freind.

15

70 (10) Submission Tis so, & humbly I my will resigne Nor dare dispute wth Providence divine. In vaine alas! we struggle wth our chaines But more entangled by ye fruitles paines For as in ye greate Creacon of this all Nothing by chance could in such order fall And what would single be deform'd confest growes beauteous in it's union wth the rest So Providence like wisdome we allow (So what created once does governe now) And ye same fate yt seemes to one, reverse Is necessary to ye universe. All these particular & various things Link'd to their causes by such secret springs Are held so fast & governed wth such art That nothing can out of its order start The worlds gods watch where nothing is so small But makes a part of what composes all Could ye least pin be lost or el'se displac'd The whole world would be disordered & defac'd It beates no pulse in vaine but keepes its time And undiscerned to its owne height does climbe Strung first & dayly wound up by his hand who can it's mocons guide or understand No secret cunning then nor Multitude Can providence divert, crosse or delude And her just full decrees are hidden things Wch harder are to find then births of springs Yet all in various consorts fitly sound And by their discords harmony compound Hence is that order, life & Energy Whereby formes are preserved though matter dye And shifting dresse keepe their owne living Seate So what kills this, does that thing propagate This made the auntient Sage in Rapture cry That sure ye world had full Eternity For though it selfe to time & fate submit Hee's above both who made & governes it And to each creature hath such porcon lent As love & wisdome sees convenient. For hee’s no Tyrant nor delights to greive The beings wch by him alone can Live. Hee’s most concerned & hath ye greatest share In man & therefore takes ye greatest care To make him happy who alone can be So by Submission & conformity For why should changes here below surprize

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When ye whole world it's resolucon tryes Where were our springs, our harvest pleasant use Unles Vicissitude did them produce? Nay what can be so wearisome a paine As when no alterations entertaine? To loose, to suffer, to be sicke, & dye Arrests us by the same necessity, Nor could they trouble us, but yt our mind Hath it's owne gloryes unto drosse confin'd. For outward things remove not from their place Till our soules runne to beg their meane embrace Then doating on ye choise make it our owne by placing trifles in ye opinions throne So when they are divorced by some new crosse our Soules seeme widdow'd by the fatall losse But could we keepe our Grandeur & our State Nothing below would seeme unfortunate. But grace & reason wch best succours bring would wth advantage manage every thing And by right Judgments would prevent our moane For loosing that wch ne'er was our owne For right opinions like a marble Grott In sum̅er cold & in the winter hott A Principle wch in each fortune lives Bestowing Catholique preservatives ’Tis this resolves there are no losses where Virtue and reason are continued there The meanest Soule might such a fortune share But no meane Soule could so that fortune beare Thus I compose my thoughts growne insolent As the Irish Harper doth his Instrument Which if once strucke doth murmur & complaine But ye next touch will silence all againe. 71 (11) 2. Corinth: 5: 19 God was in Christ reconciling the world to himselfe When God contracted to Humanity Could sigh & suffer could be sicke & dye When all the heape of Miracles combined To form ye greatest wch was save mankind Then God tooke stand in Cht studying a way How to repaire ye ruin'd worlds decay His Love, power, wisdome must some meanes procure His mercy to advance Justice secure.

17

And since man in such Misery was hurl'd It cost him more to save, then make ye world O! what a desperate loade of sins had we When God must plott for our felicity When god must beg us that he may forgive! And by himselfe before mankind could live! And what still are we, when our King in vaine Begs his lost Rebels to be freinds againe What flouds of love proceede from heavens smile At once to pardon & to reconcile! O! wretched men who dare your God confine Like those who separate what he does joyne Goe, stop ye Rivers wth an Infants hand Or count wth your Arithmeticke the Sand Forbid ye light! the fertile Earth persuade To shut her bosome from ye labourers spade And yield your God (if these canot be done) As Universall as the Sea or Sunne What god hath made, he therefore canot hate For it's one Act to love & to create And hee’s too perfect full of Matie To neede addicons from our Misery He hath a fathers not a Tyrants joy ’Tis equall power to Save as to destroy Did there ten thousand worlds to ruine fall One God would save, One Christ redeeme them all Be silenced then you narrow soules take heed Lest you restreyne the mercy you will neede But O! my soule from these be different Imitate thou a nobler President As God wth open armes the world does woo Learne thou like God to be enlarged too As he begs thy consent to pardon thee Learne to Submit unto thy Enemy As he stands ready thee to entertaine Be thou as forward to returne againe As he was crusified for & by thee Crusify thou what caus'd his Agony And like to him be mortified to him Dye to ye world as he dyed for it, then. 62 (12) To Mrs Wogan my honourd freind on the death of her husband. Dry up your teares ther's enough shed by you And we must pay our Share of Sorrowes too It is no private losse when such men fall The world's concerned & greife is Generall

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But though of our misfortune we complaine To him it is injurious & vaine For since we know his rich integrity His reall sweetnes & full Harmony. How free his heart & house were to his freinds Whom he obliged without designe or ends How Universall was his Curtesy How cleare a soule, how even & how High; How much he scorned disguise or meaner arts But wth a native honour conquered hearts We must conclude he was a Treasure lent, Soone weary of this sordid tenement. The age & world deserved him not, and he was kindly snatched from future misery We can scarce say hee's deade, but gone to rest And left a monument in every breast For you to greive then in this sad excesse Is not to speake your Love, but make it lesse A noble Soule no freindship will admit But what's eternall & divine as it; The Soule is hidd in flesh we know And all it's weakenes must undergoe, Till by degrees it does shine forth at length And gathers beauty purity & strength But never yet doth this imo̅rtall Ray Put on full splendour till it put of day So infant Love is in the worthiest breast By sence & passion fettered & opprest But by degrees it growes still more refined And scorning clogs only concerns the mind Now as the Soule you lov'd is here set free from its materiall grosse captivity Your love should follow him now he is gone And quitting passion put pfeccon on Such love as this will its owne good deny If it's deare object have feilicity; And since we can̅ot his greate losse repreive Lets not lose you in whom he still does live For while you are by greife secluded thus It doth appeare your funerall to us

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60 (13) La Grandeur d'esprit A chosen privacy a cheape content And all ye peace a freindship ever lent A Rocke wch civill nature made a seate A willow yt repels the mid day's heate The Beauteous quiet of a Sum̅er's day A brooke wch Sobb'd aloud & ranne away Envited my repose & then conspired To entertaine my fancy that retired As Lucians Ferryman aloft did view The angry world & then laught at it too So all its sullen follies seeme to me But as a too well acted Tragedy One dangerous ambition does befoole Another Envy to see that man rule One makes his love ye Parent of his rage for private freindship publiquely to engage And some for Conscience some for honour dye And some are meanly kill'd they know not why More different then men's faces are their ends Whom yet one Com̅on Ruine can make freinds Death, dust & Darknes they have only wonne And hastily to their periods run Death is a Leveller, beauty, & kings and Conquerours & all those glorious things are tumbled to their graves in one rude heape Like com̅on dust as com̅on & as cheape. At greater changes who would wonder then Since kingdomes have their fates as well as men They must fall sicke & dye, nothing can be in this world certaine, but Uncertainty Since power & greatnes are such slippery things Who'de pitty Cottages, or Envy Kings Now least of all when weary of deceite The world no longer flatters wth the greate Though such confusions here below we find As Providence were wanton wth mankind yet in this Chaos some things doe send forth Like Jewels in ye darke a native worth He that derives his high Nobility Not from ye mencon of a Pedigree Who thinkes it not his praise that others know His Ancestours were gallant long agoe Who scornes to boast the glories of his bloud And thinkes he can̅t be greate yt is not good who knowes the world & what we pleasure call yet canot sell one Conscience for them all

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who hates to hoard yt Gold wth an excuse for wch he can find out a nobler use Who darest not keepe yt life that he canne spend to serve his God his Countrey & his freind Falsehood & flattery doth so much hate he would not buy ten lives at such a rate who's soul then Dyamonds more rich & cleare Native & open as his face doth weare Who dares be good alone in such a time When virtue's like & punish'd as a crime who thinkes darke crooked plots, a meane defence And is both safe & wise in Innocence who dares both fight & dye, but dares not feare whose only doubt is if his cause be cleare whose courage & his Justice equall-worne Can dangers graple overcome & scorne; yet not insult upon a conquered foe But can forgive him & oblige him too whose freindship is congeniall wth his Soule, who where he gives a heart bestows it whole whose other tyes & titles here doe end or buried or compleated in the freind Who ne're resumes ye Soule he once did give while his freinds company & honour live And if his freinds content could cost the prize would count himselfe a happy sacrifice Whose happy dayes no Pride infects nor can. his other titles make him slight the man No darke ambitious thoughts doe cloud his brow Nor restles cares when to be greate or how who scornes to envy truth where e're it be But pitty is such a golden slavery; Wth no meane fawnings canne ye people court Nor wholy slight a popular report Whose house no Orphan groanes doe shake or blast Nor any arye of helpe to serve his tast Who from ye top of his prosperities can take a fall & yet wthout surprize Who wth ye same August & even state Can entertaine ye best & worst of fate whose sufferings sweete, if honour once adorne it And slights revenge not that he feares but scornes it whose happynes in every fortune lives For, that no fortune either takes or gives, who no unhansome wayes canne bribe his fate Nay outt of prison marches through ye Gate who loosing all his titles & his pelfe Nay, all ye world can never loose himselfe This pson shines indeed; and he yt canne Be virtuous is ye greate im̅ortall man.

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61 (14) A Country life How sacred & how innocent

A Countrey life appeares How free from tumult discontent

from flattery & feares That was ye first & happiest life

When man enjoyed himselfe Till pride exchanged peace for strife

And Happines for pelfe Twas here ye Poets were inspired

and sang their Misteries And while ye listning world admir'd

Mens minds did civilize. That golden age did entertaine

no passion but of love The thoughts of ruling or of gaine

Did ne're their fancies move. None then did Envy neighbours wealth

Nor plot to wrong his bed Happy in freindship & in health

On rootes not beasts they fed They knew no law nor Phisique then

Nature was all their wit And if there yet remaine to men

Content, sure this is it What blessing doth this world afford

to tempt or bribe desire Her Courtship is all fire & sword

who would not then retire Then welcome dearest Solitude

My greate felicity So some are pleas'd to call thee rude

Thou art not so, but we, Such as doe covet only rest

A Cottage will suffice It is not brave to be possest

Of earth but to despise Opinion is the rate of things

From hence our peace doth flow I have a better fate then Kings

Because I thinke it so When all ye stormy world doth roare

How unconcerned am I I canot feare to tumble lower

That never could be high Secure in these unenvyed walls

I thinke not on the state

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And pitty no mans case that fals from his ambition's height

Silence & Innocence are safe A heart yts nobly true

At all these little arts can laugh That doe ye world subdue

While others Revell it in State Here Ile contented sit

And thinke I have as good a fate As wealth & pompe admit

Let some in Courtships take delight And to th'Exchange resort

There revell out a winters night Not making love but sport

These never knew a noble flame Tis lust, scorne, or designe,

While Vanity playes all their Game Let peace, & Honour mine

When ye Inviting spring appeares To Hide Parke let ym goe

And hasting thence be full of feare To lose spring Garden shew

Let others (nobler) seeke to gaine In knowledge happy fate

And others busy them in vaine To study wayes of State

But I resolved from within confirmed from wthout

In privacy intend to spinne My future minutes out

I from this Hermitage ol mine I banish all wild toyes

And nothing that is not divine shall dare to tempt my joyes

There are below but two things good Freindship & Honesty

And only those I only would Aske for felicity

In this retired integrity free from both warre & noyse

I live not by necessity But wholy by my choise.

63 (15) In memory of the most justly honourd Mrs Owen of Orielton As when the Auntient world by reason lived The Asian Monarchs Deaths were never greived Their glorious lives made all their Subjects call Their Rites a triumph not a funerall So still ye good are princes & their fate Invites us not to weepe but imitate Nature intends a progresse & each stage

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whereby weake man creepes to succeeding age Ripenes him for that change to wch hee's made where the active Soule is in her Centre layd And since none stript of infancy complaine 'Cause 'tis both their necessity & gaine So age & Death by slow approaches come But by that just inevitable doome By wch the Soule her cloggy drosse once gone Puts on pfeccon, & resumes her owne Since then we mourn a happy Soul O! why Disturbe we her wth erring piety who is so ennamoured on ye beauteous ground when wth rich Autumnes livery hung round As to deny a sickle to his graine And not undresse ye teeming earth againe Fruits grow for use, mankind is borne to dye And both fates have ye same necessity Then greive no more sad relatives but learne Sigh not, but profit by your just concerne Reade over her lives volume wise & good Not because shee must be so but 'cause shee would To chosen virtue still a constant freind Shee saw the times wch changed but did not mend And as some are so civill to ye Sunne They'de fix his beames & make ye earth to runne So shee unmoved behelde ye angry fate wch tore a church & overthrew a state Still durst be good & owne that noble truth To crowne her age wch had adorn'd her youth Greate wthout pride a soule wch still could be Humble & high full of calme Majesty Shee kept true state wthin & could not buy her satisfaccon wth her Charity For fortune nor birth neer raised her mind wch stood Not on her being rich but doing good

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Obliged ye world, but yet would scorne to be Payed wth requitals thankes or vanity How oft did shee, what all ye wise adore Make ye poore happy wth her usefull store So generall was her bounty that shee gave Equallity to all before ye grave By severall meanes shee different psons tyed who by her goodnes only were allyed Her virtue was her temper not her fit Feared nothing but ye crimes wch some comit Scorned those darke arts wch passe for wisdome now Nor to a meane ignoble thing could bow And her vast prudence had no other end But to forgive a foe, endeare a freind To use but slight ye world & fixt above Shine downe in Beames of piety & love why should we then by poore just complaint Prove envious sinners 'cause shee's a saint. Close then ye Monumt & not A teare That may profane her ashes now appeare For her best obsequies are that we be Prudent & good noble & sweete, as shee. 57 (16) Freindship Let the Dull brutish world that know not love Continue Heretiques & disapprove That noble flame; But the refined know 'Tis all the Heaven we have here below Nature subsists by love, and they tye things to their causes but by Sympathy Love chaines ye different Elemts in one Greate Harmony, linked to ye heavenly throne And as on earth So ye blest Quire above Of Saints & Angels are maintain'd by love That is their busines & felicity And will be so to all Eternity That is ye Ocean, our affeccons here Are but streames borrowed from ye fountaine there And tis ye noblest Argumt to prove A beauteous mind, yt it knowes how to love. Those kind impressions wch fate can't controule Are heaven's mintage on a worthy Soule For love is all ye Arts Epitomy And is ye Sum̅e of all Divinity Hee's worse then beast that canot love & yet It is not bought by money, paines or witt

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For no chance nor designe can spirits move But ye Etenall destiny of Love For when two Soules are chang'd & mixed so It is what they, & none but they canne doe And this is freindship that abstracted flame wch groveling Mortals know not how to name All love is sacred & the Marriage tye Hath much of Honour, & Divinity. But lust, designe or some unworthy ends may mingle the, wch are despised by freinds; Passion hath violent extreames & thus All oppositions are contiguous So when ye end is served their love will 'bate If freindship make it not more fortunate, Freindship yt loves Elixar, yt pure fire wch burnes the clearer 'cause it burnes ye higher For Love like Earthy fires (wch will decay If ye materiall fuell be away) Is wth offensive smoake accompanied And by resistance only is supplyed But freindship like ye fiery Element With it's owne heate & Nourishment content (Where neither hurt nor Smoke, nor noise is made) scornes the assistance of a forreine ayd. Freindship (like Heraldry ) is hereby knowne Richest when plainest, bravest when alone Calme as a virgin & more Innocent Then sleeping Doves are & as much content As Saints in Visions; quiet as the night But cleare & open as the Sum̅er's light. United more then spirits faculties Higher in thoughts then are ye Eagles eyes Free as first Agents, are true freinds & kind As–But themselves I can no likeness find. 54 (17) To my dearest Antenor on his Parting Though it be just to greive when I must part with him that is the Guardian of my heart. yet by a happy change the losse of mine Is wth advantage payd in having thine; And I (by yt deare guest instructed) find Absence can doe no hurt to Soules combin'd And we were borne to love, brought to agree By the impressions of divine Decree So when united neerer we became It did not weaken but encrease, our flame Unlike to those who distant Joyes admire But slight ym when possest of their desire Each of our Soules did its temper fitt And in ye other's mould so fashioned it

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That now our rich nacons both are growne Like to our Interest & Persons we on And Soules whom such an Union fortifies Passion canne ne’re betray nor fate surprize Now as in watches, though we doe not know When ye hand moves, we find it still doth goe So I by secret Sympathy enclin'd Will absent meete & understand thy mind And thou at thy return shalt find thy heart Still safe wth all the love thou didst impart; For though that Treasure I have ne’re deserv'd It shall wth strong Religion be preserv'd And besides this thou shalt in me Survey Thy selfe reflected while thou art away For what some forward Arts doe undertake The Images of absent freinds to make And represent their Accons in a glasse Freindship it selfe canne only bring to passe That Magicke wch both fate & time beguiles And in a moment runs a thousand miles So in my breast thy picture drawn shalbe My guide, life, object, freind, & Destiny, And none shall know though they employ their witt Which is the Right Antenor, Thou or It. 55 (18) Engraved on Mr. John Colliers Tombestone at Bedington. Here what remaines of him does lye Who was ye world's Epitomy Religions darling, Merchant's glory Mens delight, & virtues Story Who though a Prisoner to the grave A glorious freedome once shall have

Till when, no monument is fitt But what's beyond our love or witt.

56 (19) On Litle Regina Collier on ye same Tombestone Virtues blossome, Beauties bud The Pride of all that's faire & good By deaths feirce hand was snatched hence In her state of Innocence Who by it this advantage gaines Her wages gott wthout her paines. 51 (20) In Memory of Mr Cartwright Stay Prince of Fancy, stay we are not fit To welcome or admire thy raptures yet Such horrid Ignorance benights the times That witt & honour are become our crimes

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But when those happy powers wch guard thy dust To us & to thy memory shalbe just, And by a flame from thy blest genius lent Rescue us from our dull Imprisonment. Unsequester our fancies, & create A worth that may upon thy glories wayte We then shall understand thee & descry The Splendour of restored Poetry Till when let no bold hand prophane thy Shrine ’Tis high witt = Treason to debase thy coyne. 52 (21) On Mr Francis Finch the Excelent Palæmon This is confest Presumption for had I All that rich stocke of Ingenuity Wch I could wish for this, yet it would be Palæmons blott, a pious injury. But as no Votarys are scorned when they The meanest Victim in Religion pay. Not that the power they worship needes a gunne But that they speake their thankes for all wth some, So though ye most contemptible of all That doe themselves Palæmons servants call I know that Zeale is more then Sacrifice For God did not ye widdowes mite despise And yt Palæmon hath Divinity And mercy is it's highest property He yt doth such transcendent merit owne Must have imperfect offerings or none Hee's one Rich Lustre wch doth rayes dispence As knowledge will when set in Innocence For learning did select his noblest breast Where in her native Majesty, to rest; Free from ye Tyranny & Pride of Schooles who hath confin'd her to Pedantique rules And that Gentiler Error wch doth take Offence at learning for her habits sake Palæmon hath redeem'd her who may be Esteem'd himselfe an University And yet so much a Gentleman that he Needes not (though he enjoyes) a Pedigree Sure he was built, & sent to let us know What man compleated can he both be, & doe, Freedome from vice, is in him nature's part without the helpe of discipline or Art Hee’s his owne happynes & his owne law Whereby he keepes passion & fate in aw Nor was this wrought in him by time & growth His genius had anticipated both Had all been like Palæmon, pride had ne’reTaught one man Tyranny & t’other feare Ambition had beene full as monstrous then As this ill world doth render worthy men

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Had men his spirit, they would soone forbeare Groveling for dirt, & quarrelling for ayre Were his harmonious Soule diffused in all We should beleive that man did never fall It is Palæmons Soul that hath engrost The Ingenious Candour that ye world hath lost whose owne mind seates him quiet, safe & high Above ye reach of time or destiny. Twas he yt rescued gasping freindship, when The Bell toll'd for her funerall wth men. ’Twas he that made freinds more then lovers burne, And then made love to sacred freindship turne! 'Twas he turn'd honour inward set her free From titles & from popularity Now fix't to virtue shee begs praise of none Is witness'd & rewarded both at home. And in his breast this honours so enshrined As the old law was in ye Arke confind To wch Posterity shall all consent And lesse dispute then Acts of Parliamt Hee’s our Originall by whom we see How much we faile & what we ought to be. But why doe I to Coppy him pretend? My Rhimes but libell whom they would come̅nd ’Tis true, but none canne reach what’s set so high And though I misse I have mostnoble company. For ye most happy language must confesse It doth obscure Palæmon, not expresse. 50 (22) L’Amitie To Mrs Mary Awbrey Soule of my Soule! my joy, my crowne, my freind A name wch all ye rest doth comprehend How happy are we now, whose soules are growne By an incomparable Mixture, one. whose well acquainted minds are now as neare As love or vowes or freindship can endeare I have no thought but what’s to thee reveal'd Nor thou desire that is from me concealed Thy heart lockes up my secrets richly set And my breast is thy private Cabinet. Thou shed'st no teare but what my moysture lent And if I sigh it is thy breath is spent United thus what horror can appeare Worthy our Sorrow, Anger, or our feare? Let ye Dull world alone to talke & fight And wth their vast Ambitions nature fright Let them despise so Innocent a flame While Envy, pride & faction play their game But we by love sublimed so high shall rise To Pitty Kings & conquerours despise Since we yt sacred union have engrost Wch they & all ye sullen world have lost.

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49 (23) To Mrs M: A: upon absence sSt by Mr Hen: Lawes. Tis now since I began to dye

Foure moneths & more yet gasping live Wrapped up in Sorrow doe I lye

Hoping yet doubting a Repreive Adam from Paradise expelled Just such a wretched being held.

2 Tis not thy love I feare to loose

That will in spight of absence hold But tis ye benefit & use

Is lost as in imprison'd gold Wch though ye sume be ne’re so greate Enriches nothing but conceite.

3 What angry Starre then governes me

That I must feele a double Smart? Prisoner to fate as well as thee

Kept from thy face link'd to thy heart Because my love all love excels Must my greifes have no Paralells.

4 Saplesse & dead as winter here

I now remaine & all I see Copies of my wild state appeare

But I am their Epitomy Love me no more for I am growne Too dead & dull for thee to owne. 53 (24) To Mrs M: A: at Parting I have examined & doe find

Of all yt favour me There’s none I greive to leave behind

But only, only thee To part wth thee I needes must dye Could parting separate thee & I. But neither chance nor Complemt

Did Element our love ’Twas sacred Simpathy was lent

us, from the Quire above That freindship fortune did create Wch feares a wound from time & fate Our chang'd & mingled Soules are growne

To such acquaintance now That if each would assume their owne

Alas; we know not how; We have each other so engrost That each is in the Union lost And thus we can no absence know

Nor shall we be confin'd Our active Soules will dayly goe

To learne each others mind Nay should we never meete to sence Our Soules would hold intelligence.

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Inspired wth a flame divine I scorne to court a stay

For from yt noble Soule of thine I canne ne’re be away

But I shall weepe when thou dost greive Nor can I dye while thou dost live. By my owne Temper I shall guesse

At thy felicity And only like thy happines

Because it pleases thee Our hearts at anytime will tell If thou or I be sicke or well. All honour sure I must pretend

All yt is good or greate Shee yt would be Rosania’s freind

Must be at least compleate If I have any Bravery Tis cause I am so much of thee Thy Leiger soule in me shall lye

And all thy thoughts reveale Then backe againe with mine shall fly

And thence to me shall steale. Thus still to one another tend Such is the sacred name of freind. Thus our Twin-Soules in one shall grow

And teach ye world new love. Redeeme the age & sex & show

A flame fate dares not move And courting death to be our freind Our lives togeather too shall end. A dew shall dwell upon our Tombe

Of such a Quality That fighting armies thither come

Shall reconciled be Wee’l aske no Epitaph, but say Orinda and Rosania. 34 (25) Rosania shaddowed whilest Mrs M. Awbrey. If any could my deare Rosania hate They only should her character relate Truth shines so bright there that an Enemy would be a better Oratour than I Love stifles language, & I must confesse I had said more if I had loved lesse.

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yet the most criticall who that face see will ne’re suspect a Partiallity Others by time & by degrees perswade But her first looke doth every heart invade Shee hath a face so Eminently bright would make a lover of an Anchorite A face where conquest mixt wth modesty Are both compleated in Divinity. not her least glance but sets them all t on fire And checks them if they should too much aspire Such is ye Magique of her lookes the same Beame doth both kindle & refine our flame If shee doth smile no painter e’re would take Another Rule when he would mercy make And to her splendour heaven hath allow'd That not a posture can her beauty cloud For if shee frowne, none but would fancy then Justice descended here to punish men Her com̅on lookes I know not how to call Any one grace, they are composed of all And if we mortals could ye Doctrine reach her eyes have languadge, & her lookes doe teach Such is her whole frame heaven doe's afford Her not to be desir'd but still ador'd But as in Palaces ye utmost worst Roomes, entertaine our wonder at ye first But once wthin ye presence chamber doore We doe despise what e’re we saw before So when you wth her mind acquaintance get You’le hardly thinke upon ye Cabinet Her Soule, that Ray shot from ye Diety doth still preserve it's native purity wch earth can neither threaten nor allure nor by false Joyes defile it, or obscure Such Innocence within her breast doth dwell Angels themselves doe only pararell And should her whole sex to dissemblling fall Here’s one Integrity redeemes them all Transparent cleare, & will no words admit And all comparisons but slubber it More gentle soft then is an evening showre And in yt sweetnes there is couch'd a power wch scorning Pride, doth thinke it very hard If modesty should neede so meane a guard Her honour is protected by her eyes As the old flaming sword kept Paradise Such constancy, such temper, truth & law, Guides all her accons, that the world may draw from her owne Soule ye noblest President of ye most safe, wise virtuous Government

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Shee Courts retiremt, is her selfe alone Above a Theatre, & beyond a throne. So rich a Soule none can say properly Shee hath, but is, each noble quality And as the Highest Element is cleare From all the tempests wch disturbe ye Aire So shee above the world & it's rude noyse within a storme, a quiet calme enjoyes. Shee scornes ye Sullen trifles of ye time But things transcendent doe her thoughts sublime. Unlike those Gallants wch take farre lesse care To have their Soules, then make their bodies faire who sicke wth too much leasure, time doe passe With these two books, Pride & a looking glasse Plot to surprize mens hearts their power to try And call yt love wch is meere vanity But shee although ye greatest Murtherer (for every glance com̅its a Massacre) yet glories not that Slaves her power confes But wishes that her Monarchy were lesse And if shee love, it is not throwne away As many doe only to spend ye day But hers is serious & enough alone To make all love become Religion yet to her freindship's shee so faithfull is That 'tis her only blott & prejudice. For Envyes selfe could never Errour see within that Soule ’bating her love to me Now as I must confesse the name of freind To her that all the world doth comprehend Is a most wild Ambition; so for me To draw her picture, is flat lunacy O! I must thinke ye rest; for who can write Or into words confine whats infinite. 37 (26) Rosannias Private Marriage It was a wise & kind designe of fate That none should this dayes glory celebrate For here in vaine to keepe a time wch is Above ye reach of all Solemnities The greatest Accons passe wthout a noise And Tumults but prophane Diviner joyes, Silence with things transcendent nearest suites For Greatest Emperours are served by mutes And as in auntient time the Deities To their owne Priest reveal'd no misteries Untill they were from all the world retired And in some cave made fit to be inspired.

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So when Rosania (who hath those out vyed And with more Justice might be Deifyed who if shee had their rights & altars we Should hardly thinke it were Idolatry) Had found a breast that did deserve to be Receptacle of her Divinity It was not fit the gazing world should know When shee conveighed her selfe to him or how; An Eagle safely may behold ye Sunne When weake eyes are with too much light undone Now as in Oracles were understood Not ye Preists only but the Com̅on good So her greate Soule would not imparted be But in designe of Generall charity Shee now is more diffusive then before And what men then admired they now adore For this Exchange makes her not power lesse But only fitter for ye worlds addresse May then that mind (wch if we will admit The Universe one Soule must sure be it) Informe this all (who till shee shin'd out, lay As drousy men doe in a cloudy day) And Honour Virtue reason so dispence That all may owe them to her influence And while this age is thus Employed may shee Scatter new blessings for Posterity I dare not any other wish prefrre For only her bestowing adds to her And to a Soule so in it selfe compleat As would be wrong'd by any Epithete whose Splendour fix'd unto her chosen speare And fill'd with love & satisfaccon there What can encrease the triumph but to see The world her Convert & her History 42 (27) To Rosannia now Mrs Mountague being with her 5 Sept 1652 As men yt are with visions grac'd Must have all other Thoughts displac'd And buy those short descents of light with losse of Sence or Spirits flight

2 So since thou wert my happines I could not hope the rate was lesse And thus the Vision wch I gaine Is short to enjoy & hard to attaine.

4 Yet there is Justice in ye fate For should we dwell in blest Estate our Joyes thereby would so Enflame We should forget from whence we came.

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3 Ah! then what a trifle is all That thing wch here we pleasure call! Since what our very Soules hath cost Is hardly gott & quickely lost.

5 If this so sad a doome can quitt Me for ye follies I com̅itt. Let no Estrangemt on thy part Adde a new Ruine to my heart.

6 When on my selfe I doe reflect I can no smile from thee expect But if thy kindnes hath no plea, Some freedome Graunt for Charity

7 Else ye Just world must needes deny our freindship an Eternity This love will ne’re that title hold For Mine's too hot, & thine too cold.

8 Divided Rivers loose their Names And so our too unequall flame Parted will passion be in me And an indifference in thee

9 Thy absence I could easier find Provided thou wert well & kind Then such a presence as is this Made up of snatches of my blisse

10 So when ye earth long gaspes for raine If shee at last some few drops gaine Shee's more parched then at first That small recruit encreas'd the thirst 38 (28) Injuria Amicitæ. Lovely Apostate! what was my offence? Or am I punished for Obedience must thy strange Rigour find as strange a time? The Act & Season are an equall crime Of what thy most ingenious scornes could doe Must I be subject & Spectatour too? Or were the Sufferings & sins too few To be susteyn'd by me performed by you Unles (with Nero) your Uncurb'd desire Be to Survey the Rome you set on fire? While wounded for & by your power I At once your Martyr & your prospect dye.

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This is my Doome & such a ridling fate As all Impossibles doth complicate For Obligacon here is Injury Constancy Crime, Freindship a Heresey. And you appeare so much on Ruine bent Your owne destruccon gives you now content For our Twin-Spirits did so long agree You must undoe your selfe to ruine me. And, like some franticke goddes, you're inclin'd To raze the Temple where you were enshrined And (what’s the Miracle of Cruelty) Kill yt wch gave you Imortallity Whiles glorious freindship whence your Honour Springs Lyes gasping in ye Croud of Com̅on things And I’me so odious that for being kind Doubled & studied Murthers are design'd Thy Sins all Paradox; for shouldst thou be Thy selfe againe would be severe to me For thy repentance coming now so late would only change & not releive the fate So dangerous is the Consequence of Ill Thy least of crimes is to be cruell still For of thy Smiles I should yet more complaine If I should live to be betray'd againe Live then (faire Tyrant) in Security From both my Kindnes & revenge be free while I who to ye Swaines had sung your fame And taught each [unreadable] to repeate your name will now my private sorrow entertaine To Rockes & Rivers not to complaine And though before our Union cherished me Tis now my pleasure that We disagree For from my passion your last Rigours grew And you kill'd me, 'cause I worshipp'd you But my worst vowes shalbe your happines And not to be disturbed by my distresse And though it would my sacred flames pollute To make my heart a scorned Prostitute Yet I’le adore ye Authour of my death And kiss ye hand yt robs me of my breath 39 (29) To Regina Collier on her Cruelty to Philaster. Triumphant Queene of scorne, how ill doth sitt In all that sweetenes such injurious wit? Unjust & cruell what canne be your prize To make our heart a double sacrifice

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Where such ingenious Rigour you doe shew To break his heart you breake your Image too And by a Tyranny that’s strange & new You murther him because he worships you Noe pride canne raise you, or can make him start Since love & honour doe enrich his heart Be wise & good (least when fate will be just) Shee should o’rethrow those glories in ye dust, Rifle your beautyes, & you thus forlorne Make a cheape victim to anothers scorne And in those fetters wch you doe upbraide, your selfe a wretched captive may be made Redeeme ye poisoned age let it be seene Theres no such freedome as to serve a Queene But you (I see) are lately roundheade grown, And whom you vanquish you insult upon. 40 (30) To Philaster on his Melancholy for Regina. Give over now thy teares thou vaine And double murtherer For every minute of thy paine Wounds both thy selfe, & her Then leave this dulnes, for 'tis our beleife Thy Queene must cure, or not deserve thy greife. 41 (31) Philocleas parting Febr; 25 1650 Kinder then a condemned mans repreive was your deare Company that bad live, When by Rosania's silence, l had beene The wretchedst Martyr any age hath seene But as when Traytours faint upon ye Racke Tormentours strive to call their Spirits backe Yet not in kindnes to preserve their breath But to encrease ye Torments of their death. So was I rais'd to this glorious heigh't To make my fall ye more unfortunate But this I know none ever dyed before Upon a sadder or a nobler score. 35 (32) To ye Queene of Inconstancy Regina Collier in Antwerpe Unworthy since thou hast decreed Thy love & honour both should bleed My freindship could not choose to dye In better time or company

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2 What thou hast got by this Exchange Thou wilt perceive when ye Revenge Shall by those treacheryes be made For wch our faiths thou hast betrayd.

3 When thy Idolaters shalbe True to themselves & false to thee Thou’lt see yt in heart Merchandize value, not Number makes ye prize.

4 Live to that day; my Innocence Shalbe my freindships just defence For this is all ye world canne find while thou wert noble, I was kind.

5 The desperate Game that thou dost play At private Ruines cant stay The Horrid Treachery of that face Will sure undoe its native place.

6 Then let ye frenchmen never feare The Victory whilst thou art there For if sins will call Judgments downe Thou hast enough to stocke ye Towne. 33 (33) To Antenour on a paper of mine wch J: Jones threatens to publish to prejudice him. Must then my Crimes become thy scandall too? Why sure ye Devill hath not much to doe? The weaknes of ye other charge is cleare When such a trifle must bring up ye reare But this is mad designe; for who before Lost his repute upon anothers score? My love & life I must confesse are thine But not my Errors they are only mine And if my faults must be for thine allowed It will be hard to dissipate ye Cloud But Eve's Rebellion did not Adam blast Untill himselfe forbidden fruit did tast ’Tis possible this Magazine of Hell whose name would turne a virge into a spell whose mischeife is congeniall to his life may yet enjoy an honourable wife Nor let his Ill be reckoned as her blame Nor yet my follies blast Antenours name.

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But if those lines a punishment could call Lasting & greate as this Darke Lanthornes gall, Alone I'de court ye torments wth content To testify yt thou art innocent. So if my Inke through malice prov'd a steyne My bloud should justly wash it of againe But since that Mint of slander could invent To make so dull a Rime his Instrument Let verse revenge ye quarrell, but hee’s worse Then wishes, & below a Poets Curse And more then this wit knowes not how to give Let him be still himselfe, & let him live. 26 (34) To the truly noble Mrs Anne Owen on my first approaches. Madam As in a Triumph conquerours admit Their meanest captives to attend on it Who, though unworthy, have ye power confest, And Justifyed ye yeilding of the rest: So when ye busy world (in hope t’excuse Their owne Surprize) your Conquests doe prase, And find my name they will be apt to say your charmes were blinded or else throwne away There is no honour gott in gaining me Who am a prize not worth your Victory But this will cleare you that ’tis generall The worst applaud what is admired by all But I have plots in't. for ye way to be Secure of fame to all posterity Is to obteyne ye honour I pursue To tell ye world I was subdued by you And since in you all wonders com̅on are Your votaryes may in your virtues share While you by noble magique worth impart Shee yt can conquer, can reclaime a heart Of this Creacon I shall not despaire Since for your owne sake it concernes your care

For tis more honour that ye world should know You made a Noble Soul then found it so.

25 (35) To the Excelent Mrs Anne Owen upon her receiving the name of Lucasia & adoption into our Society 28 Decemb 1651 We are compleate & fate hath now No greater blessing to bestow Nay the dull world must now confesse We have all worth, all Happines Annalls of state are trifles to our fame Now ’tis made sacred by Lucasias name

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But as though through a burning glasse The Sunne more Vigorous doth passe It still wth generall freedome shines For yt contracts but not confines;

So though by this her beames are fixed here yet shee diffuses glories Everywhere

Her mind is so entirely bright The Splendour would but wound our sight And must to some disguise Submitt Or we could never worship it

And we by this Relacon are allowed Lustre enough to be Lucasia’s cloud.

Nacons will owne us now to be A temple of Divinity And Pilgrims shall ten ages hence Approach our Tombes wth Reverence

May then that time wch did such blisse convey Be kept by us ppetuall Holy day 32 (36) To the truly Competent Judge of Honour Lucasia upon a scandalous libell made by J Jones. Honour wch differs man from man, much more Then reason differed him from beasts before Suffers this Com̅on fate of all things good By the blind world to be misunderstood Twas as some Heathens did their Gods confine While in a bird or beast they made their Shrine Deposed their Deities to earth & then Offered them Rites, that were too low for men; So those who most to honour Sacrifice Prescribe to her a meane & weake disguise Imprison her to others false applause And from opinion doe receive their lawes While that inconstant Idoll they implore wch in one breath canne Murther & Adore. from hence it is that those who honour Court (And place her in a popular report) Doe prostitute themselves to Sordid fate And from their being oft degenerate And thus their tenents are as low & bad As if ’twere Honble to be Mad Or that their honour had concerned bin But to conceale not to forbeare a sin But honour is more greate & more Sublime Above the Battery of fate or time; We see in beauty certaine ayres are found wch not one grace canne make but all compound

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Honour to ye mind as Beauty to ye Sence Is the result of mixed Exelence As many Dyamonds togeather lye And dart one Lustre to amaze ye eye So honour is yt bright Ætheriall ray wch many Stares doe in one light display But as that Beauty were as truly Sweete were there noe tongue to praise no eye to see’t And ’tis ye Priviledge of a native Sparke To shed a constant splendour in ye darke So honour is it's owne Reward & End And satisfied wthin, canot descend To beg ye Suffrage of a Vulgar tongue Who by com̅ending virtue doth it wrong It is ye Charter of a Noble Accon That ye Performance gives it satisfaccon Other things are below it; from a clowne Would any Conquerour receive his crowne? 'Tis restles Cowardise to be a Drudge To an uncertaine & Unworthy Judge So ye Camelion who lives on ayre Is of all creatures most inclin'd to feare But Peaceable reflecco'ns on ye mind will in a silent shade contentment find Honour keepes Court at home & doth not feare To be condemned abroad, if quited there; While I have this retreate, ’tis not ye noise of Slander, though beleiv'd can wound my Joyes There is advantage in’t for gold uncoyned Had been unusefull, nor wth glory shined This stamp'd my Innocence in ye Oare As was as much but not so bright before Till an Alembique wakes, & outward drawes The strenght of sweetes lye sleeping in their cause So this gave me an opportunity To feede upon my owne Integrity And though their Judgmt I must still disclaime Who canne nor give nor take away a fame Yet I’le appeale unto ye knowing few Who dare be just & ripp his heart to you.

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36 (37) To My Excelent Lucasia on our freindship 17 July 1651 I did not live untill this time Crowned my felicity When I could say wthout a crime I am not thine but thee This carkase breath'd & walkt & slept So that ye world beleived There was a soule ye mocons kept But they were all deceived, For as a watch by art is wound To mocon such was mine But never had Orinda found A Soule, till shee found thine Wch now inspires, cures & supplyes And guides my darkened breast For thou art all yt I canne prize My joy, my life my Rest Nor bridegroomes, nor crown'd conquerours mirth To mine compar'd can be They have but peices of this Earth I’ve all ye world in thee. Then let our flame still light & shine (And no false feare controule) As Innocent as our designe Immortall as our Soule. 23 (38) To Mrs Mary Carne when Philaster Courted her Madam As some greate Conquerour who knowes no bounds But hunting honour in a thousand wounds Pursues his rage & thinkes that triumph cheape That’s but attended wth ye Com̅on heape Till his more happy fortune doth afford Some Royall Captive yt deserv'd his sword (And only now is of his lawrell proud Thinking his dangerous Valour well bestow'd) But then retreates & spending hate no more Thinkes mercy now what courage was before As Cowardise in fight so equally He doth abhorre a bloudy Victory So (Madam) though your beauty were allow'd To be severe unto ye yeilding croud That were subdued ere you an object knew Worthy your Conquest & your mercy too Yet now ’tis gained your Victorie's compleate Only your clemency should be as greate None will dispute the power of your Eyes That understand Philaster is their prize

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Hope not your glory can have new accesse For all your future tropheys will goe lesse But wth this Homage be you satsifyed From him yt conquers all ye world beside Nor let your Rigour now ye Triumph blott And lose ye honour wch your Beauty gott Be just & kind to your owne peace & fame In being so to him, for they’re ye same. And live & dye at once; if you would be Nobly transmitted to posterity Take heade least in thy Story they peruse A Murther wch no languadge canne excuse But wisely spare ye trouble of one frowne Give him his happynes & know yr owne. Thus shall you be as honour’s selfe esteemed Who have one sex obleiged, your owne redeemed; Thus the Religion due unto your Shrine Shalbe as Universall as divine; And that Devotion shall this blessing gaine Which law & Reason doe attempt in vaine

The world shall joyn mainteyning but one strife Who shall most thanke you for Philasters life

21 (39) To Mr Henry Vaughan Silurist on his Poems. Had I adored ye Multitude & thence Gott an antipathy to wit & sence, And hug'd that fate in hope ye world would grant ’Twas good affeccon to be ignorant, Yet ye least Ray of thy bright fancy seen I had converted or excuseles beene For each birth of thy Muse to after times Shall Expiate for all this Age’s crimes First shines thy Amoret twice crown'd by thee Once by thy love, next by thy Poetry Where thou the best of Unions dost dispence Truth cloth'd in witt & love in Innocence So yt the muddyest lovers may learne here No fountaines can be sweete that are not cleare Then Juvenall revived by thee declares How flat mans Joyes are, & how meane his cares And generally upbrayds ye world that they Should such a value for their ruine pay But when thy Sacred Muse diverts her Quill The Landskip to designe of Zion Hill As nothing lesse was worthy her or thee So we admire almost to Iodatry

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What Savadge breast would not be rap't to find Such Jewells in such Cabinets ensrined? Thou filled with joyes too greate to see or Count Descendest from thence like Moses from ye Mount And with a candid yet unquestion'd aw Restorist ye golden age, when verse was law; Instructing us, Thou so securest thy fame That nothing can disturbe it but my name Nay I have hopes that standing so neere thine ’Twill lose its drosse & by degrees refine. Live till ye disabused world consent All truthes of use or strength or Ornament Are wth such Harmony by thee display'd As the whole world was first by number made.

And from ye charm̅ing Rigour thy Muse brings Learne there’s no pleasure but in Serious things.

22 (40) A retired freindship to Ardelia.

1 Come (my Ardelia) to this Bowr

where kindly mingling soules a while Lets Innocently spend an houre

And at all serious follies smile. 2

Here is no quarrelling for Crownes Nor feare of changes in our fate

No trembling at ye Greate ones frownes Nor any Slavery of State

3 Here’s no disguise nor treachery

Nor any deepe conceal'd designe From bloud & plots this place is free

And calme as are those lookes of thine 4

Here let us sit & blesse our Starres who did such happy quiet give

As that removed from noise of wars In one anothers hearts we live

5 Why should we entertaine a feare

Love cares not how ye world is turn'd If crowds of dangers should appeare

Yet freindship can be unconcern'd 6

We weare abt us such a charme No Horrour can be our offence

For mischeives selfe can doe no harme To freindship or to Innocence

7 Lets mark how soone Apollooe’s beames

Comand ye flockes to quitt their meate And not entreate ye Neighbours streames

To quench their thirst but coole their heart

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8 In such a scorching age as this

who ever would not seeke a shade Deserve their happines to misse

As having their owne peace betrayed 9

But we (of one anothers mind assured) the boystrous world disdeyne,

with quiet Soules & unconfined Enjoy what Princes wish in vaine.

14 (41) To Sir Edwd Deering (ye noble Silvander) on his dreame & Navy personating Orinda's prefering Rosania before Solomons Trafique to Ophir. Thus am I happyer then is the King My Merchandize doe's no such danger bring The Fleete I trafique wth feares no such harmes Sailes in my signt & Anchors in my Armes Each new & unperceived grace Discovered in that mind or face Each Mocon Smile & looke from thee Brings Pearle & Ophir gold to me. Thus farre Sir Edward Deering Sir To be noble when ’twas voted downe To dare be good though a whole age should frowne, To live within & from that Even state See all ye under=world stoop to it's fate To give ye Law of honour & dispence All that is handsome greate & worthy thence Are things at once your practice & your end And wch I dare admire, but not Com̅end But since to Oblige ye world you so delight You must descend within our watch & sight (For So divinity must take disguise Least mortalls perish with ye bright Surprize) And thus your Muse wch can Enough reward All Accons, studyed to be brave & hard And honours gives, then Kings more pmanent Above ye reach of Acts of Parliamt May suffer an acknowledgment from me For having thence received Eternity My thoughts with such advantage you expresse I hardly know them in this charming dresse And had I more unkindnes from my freind Then my demerits ere could apprehend Were the greate courted, wth this gale of wind I might be sure a rich returne to find.

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So when ye Sheppherd on his Nimph complayned Apollo in his Shape his Mistres gained Shee might have Scorn'd ye Swaine & found excuse But could not his greate Oratour refuse. But for Rosania’s Interest I should feare ’Twere harder to obteyne your pardon here. But your first goodnes will I know allow That what was Beauty then, is mercy now Forgivenes is the Noblest charity And nothing canne worthy your favour be For you God=like are so much your owne fate That what you will accept you must create. 1 (42) Upon ye double Murther of K: Ch: ni answeare to a libellous Coppy of Rhimes made by Vavasor Powell. I thinke not on ye State nor am concerned Which way so ever ye greate Helme is turned, But as that Sonne whose father's danger nigh Did force his Native dumbnes & Untye. The fettred Organs, So here is a cause That will excuse ye breach of Natures lawes Silence were now a Sin, nay passion now Wise men themselves for merit would allow What noble eye could see ( & careles passe) The Dying lyon kickt by every Asse? Hath Charles so broke Gods lawes he must not have A quiet crowne nor yet a quiet grave? Tombes have beene Sanctuaryes Theives lye there Secure from all their Penalty & feare Greate Charles his double Misery was this Unfaithfull freinds Ignoble Enemies Had any Heathen beene this princes foe He would have wept to see him injured so His title was his crime, they'd reason good To quarrell at ye right they had wthstood He broke Gods lawes & therefore he must dye And what shall then become of thee & I? Slander must follow Treason: But yet stay Take not our Reason wth our king away Though you have seized upon all our defence yet doe not Sequester our Com̅on Sense But I admire not at this new Supply No bounds will hold those who at Scepters fly Christ will be King, but I nere understood His subjects built his Kingdome up wth bloud Except their owne, Or that he would dispence With his Com̅ands though for his owne defence.

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O! to what height of Horrour are they come Who Dare pull downe a crowne teare up a tombe. 13 (43) To the Right Honorable Alice Countesse of Carbury on her enriching Wales with her presence. Madam As when ye first day dawn'd man's greedy eye was apt to dwell on ye bright Prodigy, Till he might carelesse of his Organ grow And so his wonder prove his danger too. So when your Countrey (wch was doom'd to be Close mourner to its owne obscurity And in neglected Chaos so long lay) was rescued by your beames into a day Like men into a suddaine Lustre brought We justly feared to gaze more then we ought

2 From hence it is you lose most of your right Since none can pay’t nor durst do’t if they might Perfeccon’s misery tis that art & wit While they would honour doe but injure it. But as the Deity slights our expence And loves devocon more then Eloquence So ’tis our Confidence you are divine makes us at distance thus approach your shrine And thus secured, to you who neede no Art I that speake least my wit may speak my heart.

3 Then (much above our zealous injury) Receive this tribute of our Shades from me While your greate splendours like Eternall spring To these sad groves such a refreshment bring That ye despised Countrey may be growne And Justly too; the Envy of ye Towne. So that when all mankind at length have lost The virtuous Grandeur wch they once did boast

Of you like Pilgrims they may here obteyne Worth to recruit ye dying world againe.

24 (44) To Mr. John Birkenhead (the Noble Cratander) Upon a Composicon of his, wch he was not willing to owne publiquely. As when some injured Prince assumes disguise And strives to make his Carriage Sympathize Yet hath a greate becoming meine & aire wch speakes him Royall spight of all his care So th’Issues of thy Soule canne ne’re be hid And ye Sunnes force may be as soone forbid.

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As thine obscured; there is no shade so great Through wch it will not dart forth light & heate Thus we discover thy by thy owne day Against thy will snatching ye clowd away Now ye Peice shines and we will not say Parents can Soules as Tapers light convey. yet we must graunt thy Soule transmitted here In beames almost as lasting & as cleare And Thats our highest prayse for but thy mind Thy works could never a Resemblance find. That mind whose search canne nature’s secret hand At one greate stroke discover & com̅and wch peirces times & things before whose Eyes nor men nor Mocons dare put on disguise And were all Authours now as much forgot As prosperous ignorance her selfe Would plott Had we ye rich Supplys of thy owne breast The knowing world would never misse ye rest Men did, before from learning take their fame But learning’s selfe is honourd by thy name Thou studiest not beleife to introduce Of Novelties more fit for shew then Use But think'st it nobler Charity to uphold The credit & the Beauty of ye old And with one hand canst easily support Learning & Law a Temple & a Court And this Secures me for as we below Vallyes from Hills Howses from Churches know But to their sight who stand extreamely high Those formes will have one flatt Equallity. So from a lower Soule I might well feare A Criticke censure when Survey'd too neare But from Cratander (who above ye best lives in a Height wch Levels all ye rest) I may that Royalty of Soule Expect That can at once both pardon & neglect

Thus I approach & wanting witt & sence Let Trepidacon be my Reverence.

27 (45) Lucasia Not to oblige Lucasia by my voice To boast my fate or Justify my choise is this designed; But pitty doe's engage My Pen to rescue ye declining age For since tis growne in fashion to be bad And to be vaine or angry proud or mad (while in their vices only men agree) Is thought ye only Moderne Gallantry

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How would some brave example checke the crimes And both reproach & yet reforme the times Nor canne Moraility it selfe reclaime The Apostate world like my Lucasia’s name Lucasia whose rich Soule had it beene knowne In that time ye Auntients call'd ye golden one When Innocence & Greatnes were the same And men no Batles knew, But in a Game Choosing what Nature not what art prefers Poets were Judges, Kings Philosophers. Even then from her the wise would Copies draw And shee to th’infant world had given a Law That Soules were made of Number could not be An Observacon but a Prophesie It meant Lucasia whose harmonious state The Spheeres & Muses faintly Imitate But as then Musique is best understood When Every Chord’s examined; & found good So what in others Judgment is & will In her is ye same Even Reason still And as some colour various seemes but yet ’Tis but our difference in considering it So shee, now life & then doe's light dispence But is one shining Orbe of Excelence And that so peircing when shee Judgments takes Shee doth not search but Intuition makes And her discoveryes more easy are Then Cæsars conquest in his Pontique warre As bright & Vigorous, her beames are pure And in their owne rich Candour so secure That had shee liv'd where Legends were devised Rome had been Just & shee beene cannonized. Nay Innocence it selfe lesse cleare must be If Innocence be any thing but shee; For virtue’s so congeniall to her mind That liquid things or freinds are lesse combin'd So that in her that Sages wish had seene And virtues selfe had Personated beene Now as distilled Simples doe agree And in ye Alembique loose variety So virtue though in peices scattered ’twas Is by her mind made one Rich usefull Masse

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Nor doth discretion put Religion downe Nor hasty Zeale usurpe ye Judgment’s crowne Wisdome & freindship have one single throne And made another freindship of their owne, Each severall peice darts such feirce pleasing rayes Poetique lovers would but wrong in prayse All hath proporcon, all hath Comlines And her humility alone excesse Her modesty doth wrong a worth so greate Wch Calumny it selfe would nobler treate While true to freindships & to Natures trust To her owne merits only, shee’s unjust But as Divinity we best declare by sounds as broken as our Notions are; So to acknowledge such vast Cminence Imperfect wonder’s all our evidence No pen Lucasia’s glories can relate But they admire best who dare Imitate 17 (46) Freindship’s Mistery To my dearest Lucasia (set by Mr Henry Laws.) Come my Lucasia since we see That Miracles mens faiths doe move By wonder & by Prodigy To ye Dull angry world let’s prove There’s a Religion in our Love.

2 For though we were designed to'agree That fate no liberty destroyes But our Election is as free As angels who wth greedy choise Are yet determined to their Joyes.

3 Our hearts are doubled by the losse Here mixture is addicon growne We both diffuse & both engrosse And we whose minds are so much one Never, yet Ever, are alone.

4 We count our owne Captivity Then Thrones more greate Innocent ’Twere banishmt to be set free Since we weare fetters, whose Intent Not bondage is but Ornament.

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5 Divided Joyes are tedious found And greifes united easier grow We are our Selves but by rebound And all our titles suffred so Both Princes & both Subjects to

6 Our hearts are mutuall victims layd While they (such power in freindship lyes) Are Altars, Preists & offerings made And each heart wch thus kindly dies Growes deathles by the Sacrifice 18 (47) Content To my dearest Lucasia

Content ye false worlds best disguise The Search & faction of ye wise Is so abstruse & hid in night That like that airy Redcrosse=Knight

Who treacherous falsehood for cleare truth had got Men thinke they have it when they have it not.

2 For Courts content would gladly owne But shee ne're dwelt about a throne And to be flattered rich or greate Are things that doe mans sences cheate

But grave experience long since this did see Ambition & content could ne’re agree

3 Some vainer would content expect From what their bright outsides reflect But sure Content is more divine Then to be dig'd from Rocke or Mine

And they that know her beautyes will confesse Shee needes no lustre from a glittering dresse.

4 In mirth some place her, but shee scornes Th’assistance of such crackling thornes Nor owes herselfe to such thin sport That is so sharpe & yet so short

And painters tell us they the same stroakes place To make a laughing & a weeping face.

5 Others yre are that place content In liberty from Government But who his passions doe deprave Though free from shackles is a slave

Content & bondage differ only then When we are chained by vices, not by men.

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6 Some thinke ye Campe content does know And that shee sits o’ th’ Victors brow But in his Lawrell there is seene often a Cypresse bough betweene

Nor will content her selfe in yt place give Where Noise & tumult & destruccon live

7 But ye most discreete beleive The Schooles this Jewell doe receive And thus farre true without dispute Knowledge is still ye sweetest fruit

But while men seeke for truth they loose their peace And who heapes knowledge sorrow doth increase

8 But now some Sullen Hermite smiles And thinkes he all ye world beguiles And yt his cell & dish conteyne What all Mankind doth wish in vaine

But yet his pleasure’s followed wth a groane For man was never made to be alone

9 Content her selfe best comprehends betwixt two Soules & they two freinds whose either Joyes in both are fix'd And multiplyed by being mixed

Whose minds & Interests are the Same Their greifes imparted loose that Name

10 These farre removed from all bold noyse And what is worse all Hollow Joyes Who never had a meane designe whose flame is serious & divine

And Calme & even must contented be For they’ve both Union & Society

11 Then my Lucasia we have Whatever love canne give or crave with scorne or pitty can survey The trifles wch ye most betray

With Innocence & pfect freindship fired By virtue Joyned & by our choise retired

12 Whose Mirrors are ye christall Brookes Or else each others hearts & lookes Who canot wish for other things Then privacy & freindship brings,

Whose thoughts & persons chang'd & mixt are one Enjoy content, or else ye world hath none.

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19 (48) A Dialogue of Absence 'twixt Lucasia & Orinda set by Mr. H: Lawes. Luc: Say my Orinda why so sad? Orin: Absence from thee will teare my heart wch since with thine it Union had Each parting splits. (Luc:) And can we part? Orin: Our bodies must. (Luc:) but never we; our Soule's without ye helpe of sense By wayes more noble & more free Can meete & hold Intelligence Orin: And yet those Soules when first they mett Lookt out at windowes through ye eyes Luc: But soone did such acquaintance get Not fate nor time can them Surprize. Orin: Absence will rob us of that blisse To wch this freindships title brings Loves fruits & Joyes are made by this Useles as Crownes to Captive Kings Luc: Freindship’s a science & we know There Contemplacon’s most employed Orin: Religion’s so but practique too And both by niceties destroyed Luc: But who ne’re parts can never meete And So yt happines were lost Orin: Thus Paine & death are sadly sweete Since health & heaven such price must cost. Cho: {But we shall come where no rude hand shall sever {And there wee’le meete & pte no more for ever. 16 (49) A Sea Voyage from Tenby to Bristoll begun ye 5th of Sept 1652 sent from Bristoll to Lucasia 8th of Sept 1652 Hoyse up the Sayle cryed they who understand No word yt carries kindnes for ye land Such sons of Clamour, that I wonder not They love ye Sea whom sure some storme begot Had he who doubted Mocon these men seene Or heard their tongues they had convinced bin For had our barke moved halfe as fast as they We had not neede cast Anchor by ye way One of ye rest pretending to more wit Some small Italian spoke but Murthered it For I (thankes to Saburra’s letters knew How to distinguish ’twixt ye false & true.

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But to oppose them there as mad would be As contradicting a Presbytery. Let it be Spanish though (quoth I) e’en what you please For him yt spoke it might be bread & cheese So softly moves our Barke wch none controules As are ye meetings of agreeing Soules And ye Moone beames did on ye water play As if at Midnight ’twould create a day The Amourous wave that shar'd in such dispence Exprest at once delight & Reverence; Such Trepidacon we in Lovers spye Under th’oppression of a mistresse eye But then ye wind so high did rise & roare Some vow'd they'de never trust ye Traytour more Behold ye fate yt all our glories sweepe Writt in ye Dangerous wonders of ye deepe And yet behold man's easy folly more How soone we curse what er'st we did adore Sure he yt first himselfe did thus Convey Had some strong passion yt he would obey The Barke wrought hard, but found it was in vaine To make its pty good agst ye Maine Tost & retreated till at last we see Shee must be fast if ere shee would be free We gravely Anchour cast & patiently Lye prisoners to ye weathers cruelty We had nor wind nor tyde nor ought but greife Till a kind spring tide was our first releife Then we floate Merrily forgetting quite The sad confinemt of ye stormy night Ere we had lost those thoughts we runne aground And then how vaine to be secure we found Now they were all Surprized well if we must yet none shall say that dust is gone to dust But we are of now, & the civill Tyde assisted us ye Tempests to outride. But what most pleas'd my mind upon ye way was ye Ships posture wch in harbour lay Wch so close to a rockie grove were fixt that ye trees branches wth the tackling mixed One would have though it was as then it stood A growing Navy or a floating wood But I have done at last & doe confesse My voyage taught me so much tediousnes In short ye Heavens must needes propitious be Because Lucasia was concerned for me.

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20 (50) To my deare Sister Mrs C P on her Nuptiall. We will not like those men our offerings pay. Who Crowne ye cup, then thinke they crowne ye day We make no Garlands, nor an Altar build Wch helpe not Joy, but Ostentacon yeild Where mirth is Justly grounded These wild Toyes.

2 But these shalbe my greate Solemnities Orinda’s wishes for Cassandra’s blisse May her content be as unmixed & pure As my affecon & like yt endure And yt strong happines may shee still find Not owing to her fortune but her mind

3 May her content & beauty be ye same And may shee know no greife but in ye name May his & her pleasure & love be so Involved & growing that we may not know who most affeccon or most peace engross'd whose love is strongest or whose blisse is most

4 May nothing accidentall er'e appeare But what shall with new bonds their soules endeare And may they count ye houres as they doe passe By their owne Joyes & not by Sun or glasse While Every day like this may sacred prove To Freindship, gratitude & Love. 15 (51) To ye truly noble Mr Hen: Lawes Nature wch is ye vast creation’s Soule That steady curious agent in ye whole, The Art of Heaven, th'order of this frame, Is only Number in another name. For as some King conquering what was his owne Hath choise of several titles to his crowne So harmony on this Score now, that then yet still is all that takes & Governes men. Beauty is but Composure, & we find Content is but ye Accord of the Mind, Freindship ye Union of well-tun'd hearts Honours the Chorus of ye noblest parts And all ye world on wch we canne reflect Musique to th’eare or to the Intellect

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If then each man a litle world must be. How many worlds is copied out in thee. who art so richly form'd so compleate To Epitomize all that is good or greate whose Stars this brave advantage did impart Thy Nature’s as Harmonious as thy Art. Thou dost above the Poets praises live who fetch from thee th’Eternity they give And as true Reason triumphs over Sence yet is Subjected to Intelligence So Poets on ye lower world looke downe But Lawes on them his height was his owne For like Divinity it selfe, his Lyre rewards ye wit it did at first inspire And thus by double Right Poets allow His & their Lawrell should adorne his brow Live then greate Soule of Nature to asswage The savage dullnes of this Sullen age Charme us to sence & though experience faile And reason too thy numbers will prevaile Then (like those Antients) strike & so com̅and All Nature to obey thy generous hand None resist but such who needes will be More Stupid then a Stone a fish a tree Be it thy care our age to new Create what built a world may sure repaire a State. 12 (52) To ye Noble Palæmon on his incomparable discourse of freindship. We had beene still undone, wrapt in disguise Secure not happy, Cunning but not wise Warre had beene our designe, interest our trade We had not dwelt in safety but in shade Hadst thou not hung out light more welcome farre Then wandring Seamen thinke ye northerne Starre. To shew least we our happynes should misse ’Tis plac'd in freindship Mens (& Angels) blisse Freindship! wch had a scorne or maske beene made And still had beene derided or betray'd At wch ye Phisitian still had laugh'd The Souldier Storm'd & the Gallant scof't Or worne not as a passion but a plott At first pretended or at last forgott Hadst thou not beene our greate deliverer At first discovered, and then rescued her And raising what rude malice had flung downe Unvayled her face, and then restor'd her Crowne By so August an action to convince ’Tis greater to support then be a prince

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O! for a voice wch big as thunder were That all Mankind thy conquering truths might heare Sure the Litigious as amazed would stand As Fairy Knts touch't wth Cabina’s wand Drawne by thy softer & yet stronger charmes And what more honour canne on thee be hurl'd Then to protect a virtue Save a world? But while greate freindship thou hast copied out Thou’st drawne thy selfe so well yt we may doubt wch most appeares thy candour or thy art Or we owe more unto thy braine, or heart? But this we know without thy owne consent Thou’st rear'd thy selfe a glorious Monumt And yt so lasting yt all fate forbids And will out live Egiptian Pyramids Temples & Statues tyme will eate away And Tombes (like their Inhabitants) decay

But there Palæmon lives & so he must When Marbles crumble to forgotten dust.

28 (53) Wiston Vault And why this Vault? & Tombe? alike we must Put on distinction & put on Dust. Nor can ye statelyest fabricke helpe to save From ye Corruptions of a Com̅on grave Nor for ye Resurreccon more prepare Then if ye Dust were scattered into ayre What then? th’Ambitious Just say some yt we may thus perpetuate our Memory Ah false vaine taske of Art, ah poore weake man whose monument doe's more then's merit canne who by his freinds best care & love abused And in his very Epitaphs profesed. For they did not suspect his name would fall There would not neede an Epitaph at all But after death too I would be alive And shall if my Lucasia doe Survive I quitt this Pompe of death & am content Having her heart to be my monument. Though ne’re stone to me ’twill Stone for me prove By ye peculiar miracles of love.

There Ile Inscription have wch no Tombe gives Not here Orinda lies but here shee lives.

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29 (54) Freindship in Emblem or ye Seale to my dearest Lucasia. The Hearts thus intermixed speake A Love yt no bold shocke can breake For joyned & growing, both in one Neither can be disturb'd alone.

2 That meanes a mutuall Knowledge too For what is't either heart canne doe Wch by it's panting Centinell I does not to the other tell.

3 That freindship hearts so much refines It nothing but it selfe designes The hearts are free from lower Ends For each poynt to ye other tends

4 They flame ’tis true & severall wayes But still those flames do so much raise That While to either they incline They yet are Noble & divine.

5 From Smoke or hurt those flames are free From grosnes or mortallity. The hearts (like Moses bush presumed) warm'd & enlightened not consum'd

6 The Compasses that stand above Expresse this greate Imo̅rtall love For freinds like them can prove this true They are & yet they are not two.

7 And in their posture is exprest Freindship's Exalted Interest Each followes where ye other leanes And what each does ye other meanes

8 And as when one foot does stand fast And t’other circles seekes to cast The Steady pte does regulate And make ye wander as mocon streight

9 So freinds are only two in this T’reclaime each other when they misse For whose’re will grossely fall Can never be a freind at all

10 And as yt usefull Instrumt For even lines was ever meant

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So freindship from good Angells springs To teach ye world Heroique things.

11 As these are found out in designe To rule & measure every Line So freindship Governes Accons best Prescribing to all ye rest

12 And as in Nature nothing’s sett So just as lines & Numbers mett So compasses for these being made Doe freindships harmony perswade.

13 And like to them, so freinds may owne Extension, not Division. Their Points like Bodies separate But heade like Soules know no such fate

14 And as each part so well is knitt That their Embraces ever fitt So freinds are such by destiny And no third canne ye place supply.

15 There needes no motto to ye Seale But that we the Mine Reveale To the dull Eye it was thought fitt That freindship only should be writt.

16 But as there are degrees of blisse So there’s no freindship meant by this But such as will transmitt to fame Lucasia’s & Orinda’s name. 43 (55) To my Lucasia Let dull Philosophers enquire no more In nature’s wombe or causes strive to 'explore By what strange Harmony & course of things Each body to ye whole a tribute brings What secret Unions secret neighbourings make And of each other how they doe ptake These are but low Experiments; but he That Nature’s harmony entire would see Must search agreeing Soules; sit downe & view How sweete ye mixture is; how full, how true.

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By what soft touches spirits greet & kisse And in each other canne compleate their blisse A wonder so Sublime it will admitt No rude spectatour to contemplate it The Object will refine & he that canne Freindships revere, must be a noble man. How much above ye Com̅on rate of things must they then be from whom this Union springs But what’s all this to me? who live to be , Disprover of my owne Morality. And he yt knew my unimproved Soule Would say, I meant all freindship to controule But Bodies move in time, & so must minds And though th’Attempt no easy Progresse finds Yet quitt me not, least I should desperate grow And to such freindship add some patience now Oh! may good heaven but so much virtue lend To make me fitt to be Lucasia’s freind But I’le forsake my selfe & seeke a new Selfe in her breast thats farre more rich & true.

Thus ye poore Bee unmarked doth hum & fly And droan'd wth age would unregarded Dye Unlesse some curious Artist thither come Will blesse ye Insect wth an Amber Tombe Then Glorious in its funerall ye Bee Gets Eminence & gets Eternity.

59 (56) To my Lucasia in defence of declared freindship O my Lucasia let us speake our Love And thinke not that Impertinent canne be wch to us both does such assurance prove

And whence we find how justly we agree 2

Before we knew the treasures of our Love Our noble Aymes our Joyes did entertaine

And shall enjoyment nothing them improve 'Twere best for us then to begin againe.

3 Now we have gained we must not stop & sleepe

Out all ye rest of our misterious reigne It is as hard & glorious to Keepe

A Victory, as it was to obteyne. 4

Nay to what end did we once barter minds Only to know & neglect ye claime

Or like some wanton our pride pleasure finds To throw away th' thing at wch we aime.

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5 If this be all our freindship doe's designe

We covet not enjoyment then, but Power To our opinion we our blisse confine

And love to have but not to smell ye flower. 6

Ah! let misers bury thus their gold who (though they starve) no farthing will produce

But we loved to enjoy & to behold And Sure we canot spend our stocke by use.

7 Thinke not 'tis needles to repeate desires

The fervent Turtles alwayes Court & bill And yet their Spotles passion never fires

But does increase by repetition still. 8

Although we know we love, yet while our Soule Is thus imprison'd by ye flesh we weare

There's no way left that bondage to controule But to convey transaccons through ye eare.

9 Nay though we reade our passions in the eye

It will oblige & please to tell them too Such joyes as these by Mocon multiply

Were't but to find that our lookes told us true. 10

Beleive not then that being now secure Of eithers heart we have no more to doe

The Sphæres themselves by Mocon doe indure And they move on by Circulation too

11 And as a River when it once has payd

The tribute wch it to ye Ocean owes Stops not but turnes, & having curl'd & play'd

On its owne waves, the Shore it overflowes 12

So ye Soules mocon does not end in blisse But on her selfe shee scatters & dilates:

And on ye object doubles, till by this Shee finds new Joyes wch that reflux creates.

13 But then because it canot all conteine

It seekes a vent by telling ye glad newes First to ye heart wch did it's Joyes obteyne

Then to ye heart wch did those Joyes produce. 14

When my Soule then does such excursions make (Unlesse thy Soule delight to meete it too)

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What satisfaccon can it give or take Thou being absent at ye interview?

15 'Tis not distrust, for were that plea allow'd

Letters & Visits all would useles grow Loves whole Expression then would be it's cloud.

And it would be refined to nothing so. 16

If I distrust, tis my owne worth for thee 'Tis my owne fitness of a love like thine

And therefore still new Evidence would see T'assure my wonder that thou canst be mine.

17 But as ye morning Sunne to drooping flowers

As weary Traveller's a shade doe find. As to ye parched Violet Evening showers

Such is from thee to me a looke that's kind. 18

But when yt looke is dres't in words, tis like The mystique power of Musique's Union.

wch when ye finger doth one Violl strike The other's string heaves to Reflection.

19 Be kind to me, & just then to our love,

To wch we owe our free & deare converse And let not tract of time weare or remove

It from ye Priviledge of that Com̅erce. 20

Tyrants doe banish what they can't requite But let us never know such meane desires

But to be gratefull to yt love delight wch all our Joyes & noble thoughts inspires.

58 (57) The Enquiry If we no old Historians name

Authenticke will admitt And thinke all sayd ofreindships fame

But Poetry & witt. yet what rever'd by minds so pure Must be a bright Idea, sure.

2 But as our Immortallity

By inward sense we find Judging that if it could not bee

It would not be design'd

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So here how could such copies fall If there were no Originall.

3 But if truth be in Auntient song

Or Story, we beleive If the inspired & greater throng

Have scorned to deceive There have been hearts whose freindship gave Them thoughts at once both soft & grave

4 Among that consecrated few

Some more Seraphicke shade Lend me a favourable clew

Now mists my eyes invade Why having filled ye world wth fame Left you so litle of your flame.

5 Why is't so difficult to see

Two bodies & one mind! And why are those who else agree

So differently kind? Hath nature such fantastique Art That shee can vary every heart.

6 Why are ye bonds of freindship tyed

with so remisse a Knott That by the most it is defy'd

And by the most forgott? Why doe we step wth so light sense From freindship to Indifference?

7 If freindship Sympathy Impart

Why this ill Shuffled Game? That Heart can never meete with Heart?

Or flame encounter flame? what does this cruelty create? Is it the Intrigue of love or fate.

8 Had freindship ner'e been knowne to men

(The ghost at last confess'd) The world had then a stranger been

To all that heaven posses'd But could it all be here acquired Not Heaven it selfe would be desired.

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2 (58) On the Numerous Accesse of the English to waite upon the King in Flanders.

Hasten greate prince, unto thy Brittish Isles Or all thy Subjects will become exiles To thee they flocke, thy Presence is their home, As Pompeys residence made Affricke Rome They that asserted thy just cause goe hence To testify their Joy & reverence And these that did not, now by wonder taught Goe to confesse & expiate their fault So that if thou dost stay, thy Gasping land will it selfe empty on ye Belgicke sands. where ye affrighted Dutchman does professe He thinkes it an Invasion not addresse As we unmonarched were for want of thee So till thou comest, we shall unpeopled be. None but the close fanatique will remaine Who by our Loyalty his Ends will gaine And he th'exhausted land will quickly find As desolate a place as he design'd For England (though growne old wth woes) will see Her long denyed & Soveraigne Remedy. So when old Jacob could but credit give That his Prodigious Joseph still did live (Joseph that was preserved to restore Their lives that would have taken his before.) It is enough (sayd he) to Egypt I Will goe & see Him once before I dye. 6 (59) To ye Queenes mother Maty Jan: 1st. 1660/61. You Justly may forsake a land, wch you

Have found so guilty & so fatall too Fortune injurious to your Innocence

Shott all her arrowes here or hence ’Twas here bold Rebells once your life pursu'd

To whom ’twas Treason only to be rude. Till you were forc't by their unwearied spight

O Glorious Criminall to take your flight whence after you all yt was humane fled

For here, oh here, ye Royall Martyr bled Whose cause & heart must be divine & high

That having you could be content to dye Here they purloyned what we to you did owe

And payd you in Variety of woe yet all those billowes in your breast did meete

A heart so firme so Loyall & so sweete.

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That over them you greater conquest made Then your Imortall father ever had

For we may reade in Story of some few That fought like him, none yt endured like you.

Till Sorrow blushed to act what Traytours meant And Providence it Selfe did first repent

But as our Active So our passive Ill Hath made your share to be ye Sufferer’s still.

As from our mischeifes all your troubles grew Tis your sad right to suffer for them too

Else our Greate Charles had not bin hence so long nor ye Illustrious Gloucester dyed so yong

Nor had we lost a Princesse all confest To be ye greatest, wisest & ye best.

Who leaving colder parts, but lesse unkind (For it was here she set and there she shin'd)

Did to a most ungratefull Climate come To make a visit & to find a Tombe.

So that we should as much your smile despaire As of your stay in this Impurged ayre.

But that your mercy doth exceede our crimes As much as your Example former times

And will forgive our offerings though ye flame Does tremble still betwixt regret & shame

For we have (justly) suffered more then you By ye said guilt of all your sufferings too

As you the greate Idea have beene seene Of either fortune & in both a Queene.

Live still Triumphant by ye noblest warrs And Justify your reconciled stars

See your offendours for your Mercy bow And your tryed virtue All mankind allow

While you to such a Race have given birth As are contended for by Heaven & earth

3 (60) Arion to a Dolphin to his Maty in his Passadge into England. Whom does this Stately Navy bring O! ’tis greate Brittaines glorious King Convey him then you winds & Seas Swift as desire, & calme as Peace In your respect let him Survey What all his other Subjects pay

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And prophecy to them againe The splendid smoothnes of his Reigne Charles & his mighty hopes you beare A greater now then Cæsars here Whose veines a richer purple boast Then ever Heroe’s yet engrost Sprung from a father so August He triumphs in his very Dust. In him two Miracles we view His virtue & his safety too For when compelled by Traytours Crimes To breath & bow in Foreigne climes Expos'd to all ye rigid fate That doe's on withered greatnes wayte Had plots for life & Conscience layd By Foes pursued, by freinds betrayed Then Heaven his secret Potent freind Did him from drugs & stabs defend. And (what’s more yet) kept him upright mids't flattering hope & bloudy fright Cromwell his whole right never gain'd Defender of ye faith remained For wch his Predecessours fought And writt, but none so dearly bought Never was Prince so much beseiged At home provoked, abroad obliged Nor ever man resisted thus No, not Greate Athanasiues No helpe of freinds could, or foes spight To feirce Invasion him invite Revenge to him no pleasure is He spared their bloud who gaped for his: blushed any hands the English crowne Should fasten on him, but their owne As peace & freedome wth him went with him they came from punishment That he might his Dominions win He wth himselfe did first begin. And yt best Victory obteyned His Kingdome quickly he regained The Illustrious Sufferings of this Prince Did all reduce & all convince He only livd with such Suceesse That the whole world would fight wth lesse Assistant Kings could but subdue Those foes wch he can pardon too

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He thinkes no slaughter trophies good Nor Lawrells dipt in Subjects bloud. But wth a sweete resistles Art Disarmes the hand & wins the heart And like a God doth rescue those Who did themselves & him oppose Goe Wondrous prince adorne that throne Wch Birth & Merit make your owne And in your Mercy brighter Shine Then in ye glories of your Line Find love at home & abroade feare And Veneration Every where The United World will you allow Their Cheife, to whom the English bow; And Monarchs shall to yours resort As Sheba’s Queene to Juda’s Court Returning thence constreyned more To wonder, Envy, & adore, Discovered Rome, will hate your Crowne But shee shall tremble at your Frowne For England shall ruled & restored by you The Supplicant world protect, or else subdue 7 (61) The Princesse Royall her Returne into England. Welcome sure pledge of reconciled Powers If Kingdomes have good Angels you are ours For the Ill one's checkt by your bright Influence Could never strike till you were hurryed hence. But then as streames wthstood more rapid grow Warre & confusion soone did overflow Such & so many Sorrowes did Succeede As it would be a new one, now, to reade but whilest your lustre was to us denyed you scattered blessings every where beside Nature & fortune have so curious bin To give you worth & scene to show it in But we doe most admire that generous care Which did your glorious Brothers share So that he thought them in your presence, none. And yet your Sufferings did encrease his owne O wondrous Progeny O race divine Who owe more to your Accons then your line.

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Your lives Exalt your fathers deathlesse name The Blush of England & the boast of Fame. Pardon )Greate Madam) this unfit addresse Which doe's profane ye glory ’twould confesse Our crimes have banish'd us from you & we were more removed by them then by ye Sea. Nor is it knowne whither we Wrong you more When we rebell'd or now we do adore But what guilt found, Devotion canot misse And you who pardon'd that will pardon this Your blest returne tells us our Stormes are ceased Our faults forgiven & our Stars appeased Your Mercy wch no malice could destroy Shall first bestow & then Instruct our Joy

For bounteous heaven hath in your Highnes sent Our Greate Example Blisse & Ornament.

8 (62) On ye death of ye illustrious Duke of Gloucester. Greate Gloucesters deade! & yet in this we must confesse yt angry heaven is wise & just we have so long & yet so ill endured The woes wch our offences had procured That this new Shocke would all our strength destroy Had we not knowne an Intervall of Joy. And yet perhaps this Stroke had beene excus'd If we this Intervall had not abused But our Ingratitude & discontent Deserved to know our mercyes were but lent And those Complaints heaven in this rigid fate Does first chastise & then Legitimate. By this it our Divisions does reprove And makes joine in greife if not in love For (Glorious youth) all partyes doe agree As in admiring so lamenting thee The Soveraignes, Subjects, Foreigners delight Thou wert the Universall favorite Not Rome’s beloved & brave Marcellus fell So much a darling or a Miracle Built of ye richest bloud & finest Earth yet hadst a heart more noble then thy birth Wch by ye afflictive changes thou dost know Thou hadst but too much cause & time to show For when fate did thy glorious Infancy expose To ye most barbarous & stupid foes yet thou didst then so much expresse ye Prince As did even them amaze if not Convince Nay that loose Tyrant whom no bound confined. Whom neither Lawes nor oathes nor shame could bind.

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Although his Soule was then his looke more grim yet thy brave Innocence halfe softned him And he that worth wherein thy Soule was drest By his ill favoured Clemency confest Lessening the Ill wch he could not repent He called that Travaile wch was Banishment Escaped from him thy Tryals were encreased The scene was changed but not the danger ceased Though from rough Guardians to Seducers gone Those made thy Temper, These thy Judgment knowne Whilst thou the noblest Champion wert for truth whither we view thy Courage or thy youth If to foile Nature & Ambition claimes Greater reward then to encounter flames All that shall know thy Story must Allow A Martyrs Crowne prepared for thy brow But yet thou wert suspended from thy throne Till thy Greate Brother had regain'd his owne Who though ye bravest sufferer, yet even he Could not at once have miss'd his Crowne & thee But as Comi̅ssion'd Angels make no stay But having done their Errand goe their way So thy part done not thy restored State The future splendour wch did for thee wayte Nor that thy Prince & Country must mourne for Such a Support & such a Councelour Could longer keepe thee from that blisse whence thou Look’st downe wth pitty on Earths Monarchs now Where thy Capacious Soule may quench her Thirst And younger brothers may inherit first While on our King heaven does this care expresse To make his comforts safe he makes them lesse For ye Successefull Heathens use to say It is too much Greate Gods! send some Allay. 4 (63) On ye faire weather just at Coronation. So cleare a Season & so snatcht from Stormes Shewes Heaven delights to see what man performes Well knew ye Sunne if such a day were dimme It would have beene an injury to him For then a cloud had from his Eye conceal'd The Noblest sight yt ever he beheld, He therefore chec't the Invading raines we feared And in a bright Parenthesis appeared

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So that we knew not wch look'd most content The King, the People, or ye firmament. But the Solemnity once fully past And heaven & Earth each other to out doe Vyed both in Cannons & in fire workes too So Israell past through ye divided floud while in Obedient heapes the Ocean stood But the Same Sea, the Hebrewes once on Shore Return'd in Torrents where it was before. 9 (64) To her Royall Highnes, the Dutches of Yorke on her Com̅anding me to send her some things that I had written. To you whose dignity strikes us wth aw And whose farre greater Judgment gives us law your mind being more transcendent then your State (For while but knees to this Hearts bow to that) These humble papers never durst come neare Had not your powerfull word bid them appeare In wch such Majesty, such sweetenes dwells As in one Act obliges & compells None can dispute Com̅ands vouchafed by you what shall my feares then & confusions doe? They must resigne & by their just pretence Some value set on my obedience For in Religious duties 'tis confest The most implicite are accepted best If on that score your Highnes will excuse This blushing Tribute of an Artles Muse Shee may encouraged by your least regard Which first doth worth create & then reward At modest distance wth improved straines That mercy celebrate wch now shee gaines. But should you that Severer Justice use wch these too prompt approaches may produce As ye swift Doe wch hath escaped long Believes a vulgar shot would be a wrong, But wounded by a Prince fals wthout Shame And what in life shee looses gaines in Fame So if a Ray from you chance to be sent wch to consume & not to warme is maent The trembling Muse at least more nobly dyes And fall's by that a truer Sacrifice.

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10 (65) On ye death of ye Queene of Bohemia Allthough ye most doe wth officious heate Only adore ye living & ye greate yet this Queenes merits fame so farre hath spreade That shee rules still though dispossest & deade For loosing one, two other Crownes remain'd Over all hearts & her owne greifes shee reigned Two thrones so splendid as to none are lesse But to that third wch shee now doe's possesse Her heart & birth fortune so well did know That seeking her owne fame in such a foe Shee dressed the Spacious Theatre for ye fight And the admiring world called to ye sight An army then of mighty sorrowes brought Who all against this single virtue fought And Sometimes Stratagems & sometimes blowes To her Heroique Soule they did oppose. But at her feete their vaine attempts did fall And shee discoverd & subdued them all Till fortune weary of her malice grew Became her captive & her Trophy too And by too late a Tribute beg'd to have beene Admitted Subject to a brave a Queene But as some Hero who a field hath won Viewing the things he had so greatly done When by his spirits flight he finds that hee With his owne life must buy the Victory He makes the slaughter'd Heape next him lyes His funerall Pile & then in Triumph dyes So fell ye Royall dame wth conquering spent And left in every breast her Monument Wherein so high an Epitaph is writt As I must never dare to copy it. But that bright Angell wch did on her wayte In fifty yeares contention wth her fate And in that office did with wonder see How greate her troubles How much greater shee. How shee mainteyned her best Prerogative In keeping still the power to forgive How high shee did in her devoccons goe And how her condescention stooped as low With how much glory shee had ever beene A Daughter, Sister, mother, wife, & Queene Will sure employ some deathles Muse to tell our Children this Instructive Miracle. Who may her sad Illustrious life recite And after all her wrongs may doe her right

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5 (66) To the Queenes Majesty on her Arrivall At Portsmouth May 1662 Now that the Seas & winds so kind are growne In our advantage to resigne their owneNow you have quitted the Triumphant Fleete And suffrede English ground to kisse your feete Whilst your glad Subjects wth impatience throng To see a blessing they have beg'd so long Whilst Nature (who in Compliment to you Kept backe till now her wealth & beauty too) Hath to attend the Lustre your Eyes bring Sent forth her loved Embassadour the Spring Whilst in your praise fame’s Eccho doth conspire with the Soft touches of ye Sacred Lyre Let an obscurer Muse upon her knees Present you wth such offerings as these. And you as a Divinity adore That so your mercy may appeare ye more Who (though of those you should the best receive) Canne such imperfect ones as these forgive Hayle Royall beauty Virgin bright & Greate who doe our hopes Secure & Joyes Compleate We canot reckon what to you we owe Who makes him happy, who makes us be so. We did Enjoy but halfe our King before You us our Prince, & him his peace restore But heaven for us ye desperate debt hath payd Who such a Monarch hath your Trophy made A Prince whose virtue did alone Subdue Armies of men, & of offences too So good yt from him all our blessings flow yet is a greater then he can bestow So greate yt he dispences life & death And Europes fate depends upon his breath (For Fortune would her wrongs to him repaire By Courtships greater then his mischeifes were As lovers yt of Jealousy repent Grow troublesome in kind acknowledgment) who greater courage shew'd in wooing you Then other Princes in their battailes doe. Never was Spaine so generously defyed where they designed a Prey; he Courts a Bride Hence they may guesse what will his anger prove When he appear'd so brave in making Love And be more wise then to provoke his Armes who canne submitt to nothing but your charmes And till they give him leasure to Subdue His Enemies must owe their peace to you.

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Whilst he & you mixing Illustrious Rayes As much above our wishes as our praise Such Heroes shall produce as even they without Regret or Blushes shall obey. 30 (67) In memory of F P who dyed at Acton ye 24 May. 1660 at 12 & 1/2 of age If I could ever write a lasting Verse It should be layd deare heart upon thy Herse But Sorrow is no Muse & doth confesse That it least canne what it would most expresse yet that I may some bounds to greife allow Ile try if I canne weepe in numbers now

A Beauteous blossome, too untimely deade! Whither, ah! whither is thy sweetenes fled Where are the charmes yt alwayes doe arise from ye prevailing languadge of thy eyes! Where is thy modest aire & lovely meene! And all ye wonders that in these were seene? Alas in vaine! in vaine, On thee I rave There is no pitty in the Stupid grave But so the Bankrupt sitting on ye brim Oft those feirce billowes wch had ruined him Begs for his lost Estate & doth Compaine To the inexorable flouds in vaine. As well we may enquire when Roses dye To what Retirement doe their odours fly? Where doe their virtues & their blushes hast? When the short Triumph of their life is past Or called their perishing beauties backe wth teares As adde one Moment to thy finished yeares. No, no, tho’art gone & thy presaging mind So thriftily thy early houres design'd That hasty death was bafled in his pride Since nothing of thee but thy body dyed Thy Soule was up betimes, & so concerned To graspe all Excelence that could be learn'd That finding nothing fill her thirsting here To ye Spring heade shee went to quench it there And so prepared that being freed from sin Shee quickly might become a Cherubim Thou wert all Soule & through thy eyes it shined Ashamed, & angry, to be so confined.

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It longed to be uncag'd & thither flowne Where it might know, as clearly as twas knowne In these vast hopes we might thy change have found But yt Heaven blinds whom it decrees to wound. For Parts so soone at so Sublime a pitch A Judgment so mature, fancy so rich, Never appeares unto unthankfull men But as a Vision to be hid againe. So glorious Scenes in masques Spectatours view With ye short Pleasure of an houre or two But yt once past the Ornaments are gone The Lights extinguished & ye Curtaines drawne But all these gifts ne're the lesse noble part, Nor was thy heade so worthy as thy heart Where ye divine Impression shined so cleare as snatched thee hence, & yet indeared thee here. For what in thee did most com̅and our love Was both ye cause & signe of thy remove. Such fooles are we so fatally we choose That what we most would keepe we soonest loose The humble greatnes of thy pious thought Sweetnes unforc't & bashfulnes untaught The native candour of thy open breast And all the beames wherein thy worth was drest Thy witt so bright, So peircing, So im̅ense Adorned wth wise & lovely Innocence Might have foretold thou wer't not so compleate But that our Joy might be as short as greate 'Tis so, and all our cares & hopes of thee Fled like a Vanished dreame or withered tree So the poore Swaine beholds his ripened Corne By some Rough wind wthout a Sickle torne Never, ah, never let sad parents guesse At one Remove of future happines; But reckon children amongst those passing Joyes Which one houre gives them & the next destroyes Alas we were secure of our content But find too late that it was only lent To be a Mirror wherein we may see How fraile we are, how Spotles we should be

But if to thy blest Soule my greife appeares Forgive & pitty these injurious Teares Impute them to Affeccons sad excesse Which will not yield to natures tendernes.

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Since 'twas through dearest tyes, & hyest trust Continued from thy cradle to thy Dust And so rewarded & confirmed by thine That (woe is me) I thought thee too much mine. But Ile resigne & follow thee as fast As my unhappy minutes will make hast Till when the fresh remembrance of thee Shall be my Emblem of Mortallity. For such a loss as thine (bright Soule) is not Ever to be repaired or forgot. 31 (68) In memory of that excelent Person Mrs Mary Lloyd of Bodidrist in Denbyghshire who dyed ye 13th of November 1656 soone after shee came thither from Pembrookeshire. I canot hold, for though too write were rude

yet to be silent were Ingratitude And folly too: for if posterity

should never heare of such a one as thee And only know this Age’s brutish fame

They would thinke virtue nothing but a name And although farre abler Pens must her define

Yet her adoption hath engaged mine. And I must owne where merit shines so cleare

Tis hard to write, but harder to forbeare. Sprung from an auntient & an honoured Stemme

Who lent her Lustre, & shee payd it them Who still in greate & noble things appeared

Who both their Countrey loved & yet they feared, Matched to another good as greate as they

who did their Countrey both oblige & sway Behold herselfe who had without dispute

More then both families could contribute What Early Beauty greife & age had broke

Her lovely reliques & her offspring spoke Shee was by Nature, & her parents care

A woman long before most others are But yet that antedated Season shee

Improved to virtue not to liberty For shee was still in either State of life

Meeke as a Virgin, prudent as a wife.

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And shee well knew although so yong & faire Justly to mix obedience & care

Whilest to her children shee did still appeare So wisely kind, So tenderly Severe,

That they from her rule an example brought A Native honour wch he stamp't & taught

Nor can a single pen enough com̅end so kind a Sister & so deare a freind

A wisdome from above did her secure Wch though ’twas peaceable, was ever pure

And if well ordered Com̅onwealths must be Paternes for every private family

Her house ruled by her hand, & by her eye might be a paterne for a Monarchy

Her noble bounty was her prudent care Who handsome freedome gave, yet Regular.

Solomons wisest woman lesse could doe Shee built her house, but this preserved hers too

Shee was so pious that when shee did dye Shee scarce chang'd place I’me sure not company

Her Zeale was primitive & practique too Shee did beleive, & pray, & read, & doe.

So firme an equall Soule shee had engrost Just even to those that disobleiged her most

Shee lost all Sence of wrong, glad to beleive That it was in her power to forgive

Her Almes I may admire, but not relate But her owne workes shall praise her in ye gate

Her life was chequered with afflictive yeares And even her comforts seasoned in her teares

Scarce for a husbands losse her eyes were dryed And that losse by her children halfe Supplyed

When heaven was pleas'd not these deare props t'afford But tore most of, by sicknes, or a sword,

Shee who in them could still their father boast was a fresh widdow every son shee lost.

Litigious hands did her of right deprive That after all ’twas pennance to Survive

yet shee these greifes had nobly undergone Wch few support at all, but better; none

Such a Submissive greatnes who canne find A tender heart wth so resolv'd a mind

But shee though Sensible was still ye same Of a resigned Soule, untaunted fame.

Nor were her virtues coursly sett for shee Out did example in Civillity.

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To bestow blessings, to oblige, relieve, Was all for wch shee could endure to live

And had a Joy higher in doing good Then they to whom the benefit acrewed

Though none of honour had a quicker sence Never had woman more of Complacence

yet lost it not in empty formes but still Her nature noble was her Soule gentile

And as in youth shee did attract (for shee The Verdure had without ye Vanity)

So shee in age was milde & grave to all Was not Morose, but was Majesticall.

Thus from all other women shee had Skill To draw their good but nothing of their ill

And since shee knew the mad tumultuous world Saw Crownes reversed; Temples to ruine hurl'd

Shee in retirement chose to shine and burne As auntient Lamps in some Egiptian Urne

At last when spent with sicknes greife & age Her guardian Angell did her death presage

So that by strong impulse shee chearefully Dispenced blessings, & went home to dye

That so shee might when to that place removed Marry his ashes whom shee ever loved.

Shee dyed, gained a reward & payd a debt The Sunne himselfe did never brighter sett

Happy were they that knew her & her end More happy they yt did from her descend

A double blessing they may hope to have One shee conveyed to them, & one shee gave

All that are hers are therefore sure to be Blessed by Inheritance & Legacy

A Royall birth had lesse advantage bin ’Tis more to dye a Saint then live a Queene.

46 (69) Parting wth Lucasia 13, January 1658 A Song. Well, we will doe that rigid thing

Which makes spectatours thinke we part Though absence hath for none a sting

But those who keepe each others heart

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2 And when our Sence is dispossess'd

our labouring Soules will heave & pant And gasp for one anothers breast

Since their conveyances they want

3 Nay we have felt ye tedious Smart

Of absent freindship, & doe know That when we dye we can but part

And who knowes wt we shall doe now?

4 Yet since I must go wee’le submit

And soe our owne disposers be For while we nobly suffer it

We triumph o’re necessity.

5 By this we shalbe truly greate

If having other things o’recome To make our Victory compleate

We can be conquerours at home.

6 Nay then to meete we may conclude

And all obstruccons overthrow Since we our Passion have subdued

Wch is ye strongest thing I know. 47 (70) Against Pleasure set by Dr Coleman There’s no such thing as pleasure here

Tis all a perfect cheate Wch does but Shine & disappeare

Whose charme is all deceite The empty bribe of yielding Soules Which first betrays & then controules 2 ’Tis true it lookes at distance faire

But we doe if approach The fruit of Sodom will impaire

And perish at a touch In being then in fancy lesse

And we expect more then possesse

3 For by our pleasures we are cloyed

And so desire is done Or else like Rivers they make wide

The Channell where they runne And either way true blisse destroyes

Making us narrow as our Joyes.

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4 We covet pleasure easily

But it not so possesse For many things must make it be

But one may make it lesse Nay were our State as we could chuse it ’Twould be consumed by feare to loose it. 5 What art thou then, thou winged ayre

More swift then winged fame Whose next successour is despaire

And its attendant shame. Th’Experienced Prince then reason had Who sayes of pleasure it is mad. 48 (71) Out of Mr. More’s Cup: Conf Thrice happy he whose name is writt above

who doth good though gaining infamy Requited Evill turnes wth hearty love

And reckons not what befalls him outwardly Whose worth is in him selfe, & only blisse

In his pure Conscience wch doth nought amisse Who placeth pleasure in his purged Soule

And virtuous life his treasure doe's esteeme Who can his passions Master & controule

And yt true Lordly manlynes doth deeme Who from this world himselfe hath dearely quitt

Counts nought his owne but what lives in his spirit So when his spirit from this vaine world shall fleet

It beares all wth it whatsoe're was deare Unto it selfe passing easy fitt

As kindly, ripen'd corn comes out of ye eare and careless of what Idle men will say

He takes his owne & calmly goes away. Eternall Reason! glorious Majesty

Compared to whom what canne be sayd to be Whose Attributes are shee who art alone

Cause of all various things & yet but one Whose Essence can no more be search'd by man

Then heaven thy Throne be grasped wth a span Yet if this greate creation was designed

To severall ends fitted for every kind

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Sure man the worlds Epitomy must be Form'd to ye best that is to study thee

And as our dignity, ’tis duty too Wch is summed up in this to know & doe.

These comely Rowes of Creatures spell thy Name Whereby we grope to find from whence they came

By thy owne change of causes brought to thinke There must be one then find ye highest linke

Thus all created Excelence we see Is a faint darke resemblance of thee

Such shadowes are produc'd by ye Moone beames Of trees or houses in ye running streames

Yet by Impressions borne with us we find How good greate Just thou art, how unconfin'd

Here we are swallowed up & gladly dwell Safely adoring what we canot tell

All we know is thou art supreamly good And dost delight to be so understood

A spicy Mountaine on ye Universe On wch thy richest odours doe disperse

But as the Sea to fill a vessell heaves more gredily then any caske receives

Beseiging round to find some gappe in it Wch will a new infusion admit

So dost thou covet that thou mayest dispence Upon the Empty world thy Influence

Lov’st to disburse thy selfe in kindnes, Thus The King of Kings waites to be gracious

On this Account O God, enlarge my heart To entertaine what thou wouldst faine impart

Nor let this Soule by severall titles thine And most capacious formed, for thing's divine

(So nobly meant yt when it most doth misse Tis in mistaken pantings after blisse)

Degrade it Selfe in Sordid things delight Or by prophaner mixtures loose it's right

O! that wth fixt, unbroken thoughts it may Admire yt light wch doth obscure ye day

And since tis Angels worke it hath to doe May its composure be like angels too

When shall those clogs of Sence & fancy breake That I may heare ye God wthin me speake.

When with a silent & retired Art Shall I wth all this Empty Hurry pte?

To the still voice above my Soule advance My light & Joy plac'd in his Countenance

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By whose dispence my Soule to such frame brought May tame each treacherous, fix each scattered

thought With such distinctions all things here behold

And so to separate each drosse from gold That nothing my free Soule may Satisfy

But t'imitate, enjoy & study thee. 44 (72) On Controversies in Religion. Religion wch true Policy befreinds Designed by God to serve man's noblest ends Is by that old Deceivers subtile play Made ye chiefe pty in its owne decay And meets that Eagles destiny whose breast Felt the same shaft wch his owne feathers drest For that greate Enemy of Soules perceived The Notion of a Deity was weaved So closely in mans Soule, to ruine that He must at once ye world depopulate. But as those Tyrants who their wills persue If they expound old lawes neede make no new So he advantage takes of Natures light And raises that to a bare useles height Or while we seeke for truth, he in th'Quest Mixes a Passion or an Interest To make us loose it, that I know not how 'Tis not our Practise but our Quarrell now And as i’th’ moones Ecclipse some Pagans thought Their barbarous Clamours her deliverance wrought So we suppose that truth oppressed lyes And needes a rescue from our Enmities But ’tis injustice & the minds disease To thinke of gaining truth by loosing peace Knowledge & Love if true doe still Unite Gods love & knowledge are both infinite And though indeede truth doth delight to lye At some remotenes from a Com̅on eye Yet ’tis not in a thunder or a noyse But in soft whispers & ye stiller voice Why should we then Knowledge so rudely treate making our weapon what was meant our meate ’Tis Ignorance that makes us quarrel Soe The Soule that’s darke will be contracted too Chimaera's make a noyse swelling & vaine.

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And soone resolve to their owne Smoake againe. But a true light ye Spirit doth dilate And robs it of its proud & sullen State Makes love admired because ’tis understood And makes us wise because it makes us good ’Tis to a right prospect of things that we Ow our uprighnes & our Charity. For who resists a beame when shining bright Is not a sinner of a Com̅on height. That State is forfeiture & helpes are spent not more a Sin then 'tis a punishment The Soule that sees things in their native frame Without Opinions maske or Customes name Can'ot be clog'd to Sence or Count that high Wch hath its Estimacon from a Lye. (Meane Sordid things wch by mistake we prize And absent Covet but enjoyed despise.) But scorning these hath rob'd them of their art Either to Swell or to Subdue ye heart And learnt that Generous frame to be above The world in hopes; below it all in love Touch'd wth divine & Inward life doth run Not resting till it hath its centre won Moves steadily untill it safe doth lye I’th’ roote of all its Imo̅rtallity. And resting here hath yet activity To grow more like unto the Deity Good Universall, wise, & Just, as he (The same in kind though differing in Degree) Till at ye last ’tis swallowed up & growne With God & with ye whole Creacon one: It selfe so small a part in ye whole is lost And generalls have pticulars engrost That darke contracted Personality Like Mists before ye Sun will from it flie And then ye Soule one Shining Spheare at lenght Filled wth true love, wisdome & purged strength Beholds her highest good wth open face And like him, all ye world shee can embrace.

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45 (73) On ye Honble Lady E: C: Maddam I doe not write to you yt men may know How much I’me honourd yt I may doe so Nor hope (though I your rich Example give) To right with more Successe then I can live To cure ye age, nor thinke I can be Just Who only dare to write because I must I’me full of you & something must expresse To vent my wonder & your power confesse Let me then breath in verse, wch though undue The best would seeme so when it shadowes you Had I ne’re heard of your Illustrious name Nor knowne ye Scotch or English Honours fame yet if your glorious frame did but appeare I could have soone reade all your grandeur there I could have seene in each Majestique Ray What Greatnes Ancestours could e’re convey And in the Lustre of your Eyes alone How neare you were allyed unto a Throne wch yet doth lessen you who canot neede Those bright advantages wch you exceede For you are such That your descent from Kings Received more honour from you then it brings As much above their glories as our toyle A Court to you were but a hansome foile And if we name the Stocke on wch you grew ’Tis rather to doe right to it then you For those that would your greatest splendour see must reade your Soule more then your Pedigree For as ye Sacred Temple had without Beauty to feede those Eyes that gaz'd about And yet had riches State & wonder more For those yt stood within ye shining doore But in the holy place they admitted few Lustre, received & Inspiracon too So though your glories in your face be seene And so much bright instruccon in your miene You are not knowne but where you will impart The Treasures of your more Illustrious heart Religion all her oders sheds on you who by obeying vindicate her too

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For that Rich beame of Heaven was almost In nice disputes & false pretences lost So doubly injured shee could scarce subsist Betwixt ye Hypocrite & Casuist Till you by greate example did convince Us of her nature & her residence And chose to shew her face & ease her greife Lesse by your Argumts then by your life wch if it could be copied out would be A solid body of Divinity Your Principle & practise light would give what we should doe & what we should beleive For the Extensive knowledge you professe You doe acquire wth more ease then confesse And as by you knowledge has thus obteyned To be refined & then to be explayned So in returne shee usefull is to you In practise & in Contemplacon too For by ye Various Succours shee has lent You act wth Judgment & thinke wth content Yet those vast parts wch such a temper meete That you canne lay them at Religions feete Nor is it halfe so bold as it is true That Virtue is herselfe oblig'd to you For being drest by your seducing Charmes Shee conquers more then did ye Roman Armes We see in you how much that malice lyed That Stucke on goodnes any Sullen pride And that ye harshnes some professours weare Falls to their owne & not Religions share But your bright Sweetenes if it but appeare Reclaimes the bad & softens the Austere Men talked of honour too, but could not tell What was the secret of that Active Spell That beauteous Mantle they to diverse lent yet wondered what the mighty nothing mean't. Some did confine her to a worthy fame And some to Royall Parents gave her name You having clayme unto her either way By what a King could give a world could pay Have a more living honour in your breast Which Justifies, & yet obscures ye rest A Principle from fame & pompe untyed So truly High yt it despises pride. Buying good Accon's at ye dearest rate Lookes downe on Ill wth as much scorne as hate.

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Acts things so generous & bravely hard. And in obleiging finds so much reward. So selfe denying greate, so firmly just, Apt to conferre, strict to preserve a trust That all whose honour would be Justifyed Must by your Standard have it stampt & tryed But your Perfeccons heightons others crimes And you reproach while you informe ye times which sad advantage you will scarce beleive Or if you must, you doe conceale & greive. You scorne so poore a foyle as others Ill And are Protectour to th'unhappy still. yet are so tender when you see a spott You blush for those who for themselves could not You are so much above your sex that we Beleive your life your greatest Curtesy. For women boast you while you will live A Paterne & a Representative And future mothers who in childbed groane Shall wish for daughters knowing you are one The world hath Kings whose thrones are cemented Or by that bloud they boast or that they shed yet these greate Idols of ye stooping crew Have neither pleasure Sound, nor honour true They either fight or play, & power court in triviall anger or in civill sport You who a nobler Priviledge enjoy (For you can save whom they can but destroy) An Empire have where different mixtures kisse You are grave not sowre, & kind but not remisse Such sweetned Majesty, such humble State, Do Love & Reverence at once create Pardon (Deare madam) these untaught Essayes I can admire more fitly then I praise Things so Sublime are dimly understood And you were borne so greate, & are so good So much above the Honour of your Name And by neglect doe so secure your fame Whose Beauty’s such as captivates ye wise yet you only of all the world despise That have so vast a knowledge, so subdued Religion so adorned & so pursu'd A wit so strong that who would it define Will neede one ten times more acute then mine.

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yet ruled so, that it's vigour managed thus Becomes at once gracefull & generous Whose honour has so delicate a Sence Who alwayes pardon never give offence Who needing nothing yet to all are kind Who have so large a heart so rich a mind Whose freindship still is on th’oblidging side And yet so free from Tyranny & Pride Who doe's in love like Jonathan descend And Strip your selfe to cloath your happy freind Whose Kindnes & whose modesty is such To Expect so litle & deserve so much Who have such candid worth, such deare concerne Where we so much may love, & so much learne Whose very wonder though it fills & shines It never to an ill excesse declines. But all are found so sweetly opposite As are in Tytians peices, shade & light That he yt would your greate descripcon try Though he write well would be as lost as I Who of Injurious Zeale convicted stand To draw you with so bold & bad a hand

But that like other glories I presume You will Enlighten where you might consume.

Written upon this last Copy by Mr: J F: Madam ye praises of your friend shall live By you who merit more then you canne give While Women yt would write like men pursue What man shall overtake that write like you.