Chapter M: Crashaw's Answer for Hope.58 (2)

To these, whom Death again did wed, 1
This grave's their second marriage-bed;
For though the hand of Fate could force
'Twixt sovl and body, a diuorce,
It could not sunder man and wife, 5
'Cause they both liued but one life.
Peace, good Reader, Doe not weep.
Peace, the louers are asleep.
They, sweet turtles, folded ly
In the last knott that Loue could ty. 10
And though they ly as they were dead,
Their pillow stone, their sheetes of lead;
(Pillow hard, and sheetes not warm)
Loue made the bed; they'l take no harm;
Let them sleep: let them sleep on, 15
Till this stormy night be gone,
And the aeternall morrow dawn;
Then the curtaines will be drawn
And they wake into a light,
Whose Day shall neuer sleepe in Night. 20

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

In the SANCROFT MS. the heading is 'Epitaphium Conjugum vna mortuor. et sepultor. R. CR.' It was reprinted in 1648 'Delights' (p. 26), where it is entitled as _supra_, and 1670 (p. 95). Our text is that of 1648, which yields the five lines (11-14), and which ELLIS in his 'Specimens' (iii. 208, 1845) introduced from a MS. copy, but as doubtful from not having appeared in any of the editions; a mistake on his part, as the lines appear in 1648 and 1652. His note is, nevertheless, 'The lines included in brackets are in _no printed edition_: they were found in a MS. copy, and are perhaps not Crashaw's.' As usual, TURNBULL overlooked them. I add a few slight various readings from 1646.

Line 2, 'the.'

" 5, 'sever.'

" 6, 'Because they both liv'd but one life.'

" 10, I accept 'that' in 1646 and SANCROFT MS. as it is
confirmed by HARLEIAN MS. 6917-18, as before.

Line 17, I adopt 'And' for 'Till' from 1648.

" 19, 'waken with that Light,' and so SANCROFT MS.:
1648 reads 'And they wake into that Light:' HARLEIAN MS. as
before, 'And they waken with.'

Line 20, 'sleep' for 'dy,' which I adopt as agreeing with the
'wake,' and as being confirmed by HARLEIAN MS. as before. G.

DEATH'S LECTVRE AND THE FVNERAL OF A YOVNG GENTLEMAN.[74]

Dear reliques of a dislodg'd sovl, whose lack 1
Makes many a mourning paper put on black!
O stay a while, ere thou draw in thy head
And wind thy self vp close in thy cold bed.
Stay but a little while, vntill I call 5
A summon's worthy of thy funerall.
Come then, Youth, Beavty, Blood! all ye soft powres,
Whose sylken flatteryes swell a few fond howres
Into a false aeternity. Come man;
Hyperbolized nothing! know thy span; 10
Take thine own measure here, down, down, and bow
Before thy self in thine idaea; thou
Huge emptynes! contract thy bulke; and shrinke
All thy wild circle to a point. O sink
Lower and lower yet; till thy leane size 15
Call Heaun to look on thee with narrow eyes.
Lesser and lesser yet; till thou begin
To show a face, fitt to confesse thy kin,
Thy neighbourhood to Nothing!
Proud lookes, and lofty eyliddes, here putt on 20
Your selues in your vnfaign'd reflexion;
Here, gallant ladyes! this vnpartiall glasse
(Through all your painting) showes you your true face.
These death-seal'd lippes are they dare giue the ly
To the lowd boasts of poor Mortality; 25
These curtain'd windows, this retired eye
Outstares the liddes of larg-look't Tyranny.
This posture is the braue one, this that lyes
Thus low, stands vp (me thinkes) thus and defies
The World. All-daring dust and ashes! only you 30
Of all interpreters read Nature true.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

These various readings are worthy of record:

Line 7 in our text (1652) is misprinted as two lines, the first ending
with 'blood,' a repeated blunder of the Paris printer. It reads also
'the' for 'ye' of 1646. I adopt the latter. I have also cancelled 'and'
before 'blood' as a misprint.

Line 8 in 1652 is misprinted 'svlken' for 'sylken.'

" 12, ib. 'thy self,' and so in 1648 and 1670: 'bulke' from
1646 is preferable, and so adopted.

Line 15, 1646 has 'small' for 'lean,' which is inferior.

" 16, our text (1652) misspells 'norrow.'

" 19, in 1646 the readings here are,

'Thy neighbourhood to nothing I here put on
Thy selfe in this unfeign'd reflection.'

1648 and our text as given. 'Nothing' is intended to rhyme with 'kin'
and 'begin,' and so to form a triplet.

Line 23, our text (1652), 1648 and 1670 read 'Though ye be painted:'
1646 reads 'Through all your painting,' which is much more powerful,
and therefore adopted by us. It reminds us (from line 22, 'gallant
ladyes') of Hamlet's apostrophe to the skull of poor Yorick.

Line 25, 1646 reads poorly,

'To the proud hopes of poor Mortality.'

" 26, in 1646 reads curiously, 'this selfe-prison'd eye.' G.

AN EPITAPH VPON DOCTOR BROOKE.[75]

A Brooke, whose streame so great, so good, 1
Was lov'd, was honour'd, as a flood:
Whose bankes the Muses dwelt upon,
More than their owne Helicon;
Here at length, hath gladly found 5
A quiet passage under ground;
Meane while his loved bankes, now dry
The Muses with their teares supply.

ON A FOULE MORNING, BEING THEN TO TAKE A JOURNEY.[76]

Where art thou Sol, while thus the blind-fold Day 1
Staggers out of the East, loses her way
Stumbling on Night? Rouze thee illustrious youth,
And let no dull mists choake thy Light's faire growth.
Point here thy beames: O glance on yonder flocks, 5
And make their fleeces golden as thy locks.
Vnfold thy faire front, and there shall appeare
Full glory, flaming in her owne free spheare.
Gladnesse shall cloath the Earth, we will instile
The face of things, an universall smile. 10
Say to the sullen Morne, thou com'st to court her;
And wilt command proud Zephirus to sport her
With wanton gales: his balmy breath shall licke
The tender drops which tremble on her cheeke;
Which rarified, and in a gentle raine 15
On those delicious bankes distill'd againe,
Shall rise in a sweet Harvest, which discloses
Two ever-blushing bed[s] of new-borne roses.
Hee'l fan her bright locks, teaching them to flow,
And friske in curl'd maeanders: hee will throw 20
A fragrant breath suckt from the spicy nest
O' th' pretious phoenix, warme upon her breast.
Hee with a dainty and soft hand will trim
And brush her azure mantle, which shall swim
In silken volumes; wheresoe're shee'l tread, 25
Bright clouds like golden fleeces shall be spread.
Rise then (faire blew-ey'd maid!) rise and discover
Thy silver brow, and meet thy golden lover.
See how hee runs, with what a hasty flight,
Into thy bosome, bath'd with liquid light. 30
Fly, fly prophane fogs, farre hence fly away,
Taint not the pure streames of the springing Day,
With your dull influence; it is for you
To sit and scoule upon Night's heavy brow,
Not on the fresh cheekes of the virgin Morne, 35
Where nought but smiles, and ruddy joyes are worne.
Fly then, and doe not thinke with her to stay;
Let it suffice, shee'l weare no maske to day.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

In the SANCROFT MS. this is headed 'An Invitation to faire weather. In itinere adurgeretur matutinum coelum tali carmine invitabatur serenitas. R. CR.' In line 12 the MS. reads 'smooth' for 'proud' (TURNBULL here, after 1670, as usual misreads 'demand' for 'command'): line 18 corrects the misreading of all the editions, which is 'To every blushing...:' line 23 reads 'soft and dainty:' line 36, 'is' for 'are:' other orthographic differences only.

The opening lines of this poem seem to be adapted from remembrance of the Friar's in _Romeo and Juliet_:

'The grey-eyed Morn smiles on the frowning Night
...
And flecked Darkness like a drunkard reels
From forth Day's path and Titan's burning wheels.' (ii. 3.)

Line 4, in HARLEIAN MS. 6917-18 reads, as I have adopted,
'thy' for 'the.'

Line 5, ib. 'on yond faire.'

" 7, ib. 'Unfold thy front and then....'

" 9, instile is = instill, used in Latinate sense of drop
into or upon: HARLEIAN MS., as before, is 'enstile.'

Line 14, HARLEIAN MS., as before, 'thy' for 'her.'

" 16, ib. 'these.'

" 17-18, ib.

... 'and disclose
... the new-born rose.'

See our Essay for critical remarks. G.

TO THE MORNING:

SATISFACTION FOR SLEEPE.[77]

What succour can I hope my Muse shall send 1
Whose drowsinesse hath wrong'd the Muses' friend?
What hope, Aurora, to propitiate thee,
Vnlesse the Muse sing my apologie?
O in that morning of my shame! when I 5
Lay folded up in Sleepe's captivity,
How at the sight did'st thou draw back thine eyes,
Into thy modest veyle? how didst thou rise
Twice dy'd in thine owne blushes! and did'st run
To draw the curtaines, and awake the sun! 10
Who, rowzing his illustrious tresses, came,
And seeing the loath'd object, hid for shame
His head in thy faire bosome, and still hides
Mee from his patronage; I pray, he chides:
And pointing to dull Morpheus, bids me take 15
My owne Apollo, try if I can make
His Lethe be my Helicon: and see
If Morpheus have a Muse to wait on mee.
Hence 'tis, my humble fancie finds no wings,
No nimble rapture starts to Heaven, and brings 20
Enthusiasticke flames, such as can give
Marrow to my plumpe genius, make it live
Drest in the glorious madnesse of a Muse,
Whose feet can walke the milky way, and chuse
Her starry throne; whose holy heats can warme 25
The grave, and hold up an exalted arme
To lift me from my lazy vrne, to climbe
Vpon the stooped shoulders of old Time,
And trace Eternity--But all is dead,
All these delicious hopes are buried 30
In the deepe wrinckles of his angry brow,
Where Mercy cannot find them: but O thou
Bright lady of the Morne! pitty doth lye
So warme in thy soft brest, it cannot dye.
Have mercy then, and when he next shall rise 35
O meet the angry God, invade his eyes,
And stroake his radiant cheekes; one timely kisse
Will kill his anger, and revive my blisse.
So to the treasure of thy pearly deaw,
Thrice will I pay three teares, to show how true 40
My griefe is; so my wakefull lay shall knocke
At th' orientall gates, and duly mocke
The early larkes' shrill orizons, to be
An anthem at the Daye's nativitie.
And the same rosie-finger'd hand of thine, 45
That shuts Night's dying eyes, shall open mine.
But thou, faint God of Sleepe, forget that I
Was ever known to be thy votary.
No more my pillow shall thine altar be,
Nor will I offer any more to thee 50
My selfe a melting sacrifice; I'me borne
Againe a fresh child of the buxome Morne,
Heire of the sun's first beames. Why threat'st thou so?
Why dost thou shake thy leaden scepter? goe,
Bestow thy poppy upon wakefull Woe, 55
Sicknesse, and Sorrow, whose pale lidds ne're know
Thy downie finger; dwell upon their eyes,
Shut in their teares: shut out their miseries.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

In 1646, line 1, for 'shall' reads 'will:' ib. in HARLEIAN MS. as before, 'my' for 'the Muse;' which I adopt here, but not in next line: line 9, ib. 'thy:' line 11, illustrious is = lustrous, radiant: HARLEIAN MS. as before, line 19, 'this my humble:' line 20, 1646 misprints 'raptures:' line 27, 1670 has 'and climb:' line 28, 1646 has 'stooped' for 'stooping' of 1648; infinitely superior, and therefore adopted: 1670 misprints 'stopped:' the SANCROFT MS. has 'stooping:' line 45, HARLEIAN MS. as before, 'thy altar.' Further: in the SANCROFT MS. this poem is headed 'Ad Auroram Somnolentiae expiatio. R. CR.,' and it supplies these various readings: line 1, 'will:' line 7, 'call back:' line 16, 'my' for 'mine;' line 20-21, 'winge' and 'bringe:' line 40, 'treasures:' other orthographic differences only. See Essay, as in last poem. G.

LOVE'S HOROSCOPE.[78]

Love, brave Vertue's younger brother, 1
Erst hath made my heart a mother;
Shee consults the conscious spheares
To calculate her young son's yeares.
Shee askes, if sad, or saving powers, 5
Gave omen to his infant howers;
Shee askes each starre that then stood by,
If poore Love shall live or dy.

Ah, my heart, is that the way?
Are these the beames that rule thy day? 10
Thou know'st a face in whose each looke,
Beauty layes ope Love's fortune-booke;
On whose faire revolutions wait
The obsequious motions of man's fate:
Ah, my heart, her eyes, and shee, 15
Have taught thee new astrologie.
How e're Love's native houres were set,
What ever starry synod met,
'Tis in the mercy of her eye,
If poore Love shall live or dye. 20

If those sharpe rayes putting on
Points of death, bid Love be gon:
(Though the Heavens in counsell sate
To crowne an uncontrouled fate,
Though their best aspects twin'd upon 25
The kindest constellation,
Cast amorous glances on his birth,
And whisper'd the confederate Earth
To pave his pathes with all the good,
That warmes the bed of youth and blood) 30
Love hath no plea against her eye:
Beauty frownes, and Love must dye.

But if her milder influence move,
And gild the hopes of humble Love:
(Though Heaven's inauspicious eye 35
Lay blacke on Love's nativitie;
Though every diamond in Love's crowne
Fixt his forehead to a frowne:)
Her eye, a strong appeale can giue,
Beauty smiles, and Love shall live. 40
O, if Love shall live, O, where
But in her eye, or in her eare,
In her brest, or in her breath,
Shall I hide poore Love from Death?
For in the life ought else can give, 45
Love shall dye, although he live.

Or, if Love shall dye, O, where
But in her eye, or in her eare,
In her breath, or in her breast,
Shall I build his funerall nest? 50
While Love shall thus entombed lye,
Love shall live, although he dye.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

In line 16 the heavens are the planets. To 'crown' his fate is to invest it with regal power, and so place it beyond control. It is doubtful whether 'uncontrouled' expresses that state or result of crowning, or whether the clause is hyperbolical, and means to put further beyond control an already uncontrolled fate. 'Twin'd' seems a strange word to use, but refers, I presume, to the apparently irregular and winding-like motions of the planets through the constellations until they result in the favourable aspects mentioned. According to astrology, the beneficence or maleficence of the planetary aspects varies with the nature of the constellation in which they occur. HENRY VAUGHAN, Silurist, uses 'wind' very much as CRASHAW uses 'twin'd:' see _s.v._ in our edition.

In line 14 we have accepted the reading 'man's' for 'Loves' from the SANCROFT MS.

A SONG:

OUT OF THE ITALIAN.[79]

To thy lover
Deere, discover
That sweet blush of thine that shameth
--When those roses
It discloses--
All the flowers that Nature nameth.

In free ayre,
Flow thy haire;
That no more Summer's best dresses,
Bee beholden
For their golden
Locks, to Phoebus' flaming tresses.

O deliver
Love his quiver;
From thy eyes he shoots his arrowes:
Where Apollo
Cannot follow:
Featherd with his mother's sparrowes.

O envy not
--That we dye not--
Those deere lips whose doore encloses
All the Graces
In their places,
Brother pearles, and sister roses.

From these treasures
Of ripe pleasures
One bright smile to cleere the weather.
Earth and Heaven
Thus made even,
Both will be good friends together.

The aire does wooe thee,
Winds cling to thee;
Might a word once fly from out thee,
Storme and thunder
Would sit under,
And keepe silence round about thee.

But if Nature's
Common creatures,
So deare glories dare not borrow:
Yet thy beauty
Owes a duty,
To my loving, lingring sorrow,

When to end mee
Death shall send mee
All his terrors to affright mee:
Thine eyes' Graces
Gild their faces,
And those terrors shall delight mee.

When my dying
Life is flying,
Those sweet aires that often slew mee
Shall revive mee,
Or reprive mee,
And to many deaths renew mee.

OUT OF THE ITALIAN.

Love now no fire hath left him, 1
We two betwixt us have divided it.
Your eyes the light hath reft him,
The heat commanding in my heart doth sit.[80]
O that poore Love be not for ever spoyled, 5
Let my heat to your light be reconciled.

So shall these flames, whose worth
Now all obscured lyes:
--Drest in those beames--start forth
And dance before your eyes. 10
Or else partake my flames
(I care not whither)
And so in mutuall names
Of Love, burne both together.

OUT OF THE ITALIAN.

Would any one the true cause find 1
How Love came nak't, a boy, and blind?
'Tis this: listning one day too long,
So th' Syrens in my mistris' song,
The extasie of a delight 5
So much o're-mastring all his might,
To that one sense, made all else thrall,
And so he lost his clothes, eyes, heart and all.

VPON THE FRONTISPEECE OF MR. ISAACKSON'S CHRONOLOGIE.[81]

Let hoary Time's vast bowels be the grave 1
To what his bowels' birth and being gave;
Let Nature die, (Phoenix-like) from death
Revived Nature takes a second breath;
If on Time's right hand, sit faire Historie, 5
If from the seed of emptie Ruine, she
Can raise so faire an harvest; let her be
Ne're so farre distant, yet Chronologie
(Sharp-sighted as the eagle's eye, that can
Out-stare the broad-beam'd daye's meridian) 10
Will have a perspicill to find her out,
And, through the night of error and dark doubt,
Discerne the dawne of Truth's eternall ray,
As when the rosie Morne budds into Day.
Now that Time's empire might be amply fill'd, 15
Babel's bold artists strive (below) to build
Ruine a temple; on whose fruitfull fall
History reares her pyramids, more tall
Than were th' Aegyptian (by the life these give,
Th' Egyptian pyramids themselves must live): 20
On these she lifts the world; and on their base
Showes the two termes, and limits of Time's race:
That, the creation is; the judgement, this;
That, the World's morning; this, her midnight is.

NOTE.

As explained in preceding Note, I add here the poem so long misassigned to CRASHAW.

ON THE FRONTISPIECE OF ISAACSON'S CHRONOLOGIE EXPLAINED.

BY DR. EDWARD RAINBOW, BISHOP OF CARLISLE.

If with distinctive eye, and mind, you looke 1
Vpon the Front, you see more than one Booke.
Creation is God's Booke, wherein He writ
Each creature, as a letter filling it.
History is Creation's Booke; which showes 5
To what effects the Series of it goes.
Chronologie's the Booke of Historie, and beares
The just account of Dayes, Moneths, and Yeares.
But Resurrection, in a later Presse,
And New Edition, is the summe of these. 10
The Language of these Bookes had all been one,
Had not th' aspiring Tower of Babylon
Confus'd the tongues, and in a distance hurl'd
As farre the speech, as men, o' th' new fill'd world.
Set then your eyes in method, and behold 15
Time's embleme, Saturne; who, when store of gold
Coyn'd the first age, devour'd that birth, he fear'd;
Till History, Time's eldest child appear'd;
And Phoenix-like, in spight of Saturne's rage,
Forc'd from her ashes, heyres in every age. 20
From th' Rising Sunne, obtaining by just suit,
A Spring's ingender, and an Autumne's fruit.
Who in those Volumes at her motion pend,
Vnto Creation's Alpha doth extend.
Againe ascend, and view Chronology, 25
By optick skill, pulling farre History
Neerer; whose Hand the piercing Eagle's eye
Strengthens, to bring remotest objects nigh.
Vnder whose feet, you see the Setting Sunne,
From the darke Gnomon, o're her volumes runne, 30
Drown'd in eternall night, never to rise,
Till Resurrection show it to the eyes
Of Earth-worne men; and her shrill trumpet's sound
Affright the Bones of mortals from the ground.
The Columnes both are crown'd with either Sphere, 35
To show Chronology and History beare,
No other Culmen than the double Art,
Astronomy, Geography, impart.

AN EPITAPH VPON MR. ASHTON,

A CONFORMABLE CITIZEN.[82]

The modest front of this small floore, 1
Beleeve me, Reader, can say more
Than many a braver marble can;
_Here lyes a truly honest man._
One whose conscience was a thing, 5
That troubled neither Church nor King.
One of those few that in this towne,
Honour all Preachers, heare their owne.
Sermons he heard, yet not so many
As left no time to practise any. 10
He heard them reverendly, and then
His practice preach'd them o're agen.
His Parlour-Sermons rather were
Those to the eye, then to the eare.
His prayers took their price and strength, 15
Not from the lowdnesse, nor the length.
He was a Protestant at home,
Not onely in despight of Rome.
He lov'd his Father; yet his zeale
Tore not off his Mother's veile. 20
To th' Church he did allow her dresse,
True Beauty, to true Holinesse.
Peace, which he lov'd in life, did lend
Her hand to bring him to his end.
When Age and Death call'd for the score, 25
No surfets were to reckon for.
Death tore not--therefore--but sans strife
Gently untwin'd his thread of life.
What remaines then, but that thou
Write these lines, Reader, in thy brow, 30
And by his faire example's light,
Burne in thy imitation bright.
So while these lines can but bequeath
A life perhaps unto his death;
His better Epitaph shall bee, 35
His life still kept alive in thee.

OUT OF CATULLUS.[83]

Come and let us live my deare, 1
Let us love and never feare,
What the sowrest fathers say:
Brightest Sol that dyes to day
Lives againe as blith to morrow; 5
But if we darke sons of sorrow
Set: O then how long a Night
Shuts the eyes of our short light!
Then let amorous kisses dwell
On our lips, begin and tell 10
A thousand, and a hundred score,
An hundred and a thousand more,
Till another thousand smother
That, and that wipe of[f] another.
Thus at last when we have numbred 15
Many a thousand, many a hundred,
Wee'l confound the reckoning quite,
And lose our selves in wild delight:
While our joyes so multiply,
As shall mocke the envious eye. 20

WISHES.

TO HIS (SUPPOSED) MISTRESSE.[84]

1. Who ere she be, 1
That not impossible she
That shall command my heart and me;
2. Where ere she lye,
Lock't up from mortall eye, 5
In shady leaves of Destiny;

3. Till that ripe birth
Of studied Fate stand forth,
And teach her faire steps tread our Earth;

4. Till that divine 10
Idaea, take a shrine
Of chrystall flesh, through which to shine;

5. Meet you her, my wishes,
Bespeake her to my blisses,
And be ye call'd, my absent kisses. 15

6. I wish her, beauty
That owes not all its duty
To gaudy tire or glistring shoo-ty.

7. Something more than
Taffata or tissew can, 20
Or rampant feather, or rich fan.

8. More than the spoyle
Of shop, or silkeworme's toyle,
Or a bought blush, or a set smile.

9. A face that's best 25
By its owne beauty drest,
And can alone commend the rest.

10. A face made up,
Out of no other shop
Than what Nature's white hand sets ope. 30

11. A cheeke where Youth,
And blood, with pen of Truth
Write, what their reader sweetly ru'th.

12. A cheeke where growes
More than a morning rose: 35
Which to no boxe his being owes.

13. Lipps, where all day
A lover's kisse may play,
Yet carry nothing thence away.

14. Lookes that oppresse 40
Their richest tires, but dresse
Themselves in simple nakednesse.

15. Eyes, that displace
The neighbour diamond, and out-face
That sunshine, by their own sweet grace. 45

16. Tresses, that weare
Iewells, but to declare
How much themselves more pretious are.

17. Whose native ray,
Can tame the wanton day 50
Of gems, that in their bright shades play.

18. Each ruby there,
Or pearle that dares appeare,
Be its own blush, be its own teare.

19. A well tam'd heart, 55
For whose more noble smart,
Love may be long chusing a dart.

20. Eyes, that bestow
Full quivers on Love's bow;
Yet pay lesse arrowes than they owe. 60

21. Smiles, that can warme
The blood, yet teach a charme,
That Chastity shall take no harme.

22. Blushes, that bin
The burnish of no sin, 65
Nor flames of ought too hot within.

23. Ioyes, that confesse,
Vertue their mistresse,
And have no other head to dresse.

24. Feares, fond, and flight, 70
As the coy bride's, when Night
First does the longing lover right.

25. Teares, quickly fled,
And vaine, as those are shed
For a dying maydenhead. 75

26. Dayes, that need borrow,
No part of their good morrow,
From a fore-spent night of sorrow.

27. Dayes, that in spight
Of darknesse, by the light 80
Of a cleere mind are day all night.

28. Nights, sweet as they,
Made short by lovers play,
Yet long by th' absence of the day.

29. Life, that dares send 85
A challenge to his end,
And when it comes say, Welcome friend!

30. Sydnaean showers
Of sweet discourse, whose powers
Can crown old Winter's head with flowers. 90

31. Soft silken hours;
Open sunnes; shady bowers;
'Bove all, nothing within that lowers.

32. What ere delight
Can make Daye's forehead bright, 95
Or give downe to the wings of Night.

33. In her whole frame,
Haue Nature all the name,
Art and ornament the shame.

34. Her flattery, 100
Picture and Poesy,
Her counsell her owne vertue be.

35. I wish her store
Of worth may leave her poore
Of wishes; and I wish----no more. 105

36. Now if Time knowes
That her, whose radiant browes
Weave them a garland of my vowes;

37. Her whose just bayes,
My future hopes can raise, 110
A trophie to her present praise.

38. Her that dares be,
What these lines wish to see:
I seeke no further: it is she.

39. 'Tis she, and here 115
Lo I uncloath and cleare,
My wishes cloudy character.

40. May she enjoy it,
Whose merit dare apply it,
But Modesty dares still deny it. 120

41. Such worth as this is
Shall fixe my flying wishes,
And determine them to kisses.

42. Let her full glory,
My fancyes, fly before ye, 125
Be ye my fictions; but her story.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

The HARLEIAN MS. 6917-18, as before, gives an admirable reading, corrective of all the editions in st. 3, line 3. Hitherto it has run, 'And teach her faire steps to our Earth:' the MS. as given by us 'tread' for 'to:' ib. st. 5, line 1, reads 'Meete her my wishes;' perhaps preferable: st. 6, I accept 'its' for 'his' from 1670 edition: st. 7, 'than'=then, and is spelled 'then' here and elsewhere in 1646 and 1670: st. 8, line 3, HARLEIAN MS. reads 'Or a bowe, blush, or a set smile;' inferior: st. 9, ib. reads 'commend' for 'command;' adopted: st. 11, ib. 'their' for 'the;' adopted: st. 14, ib. spells 'tyers,' and line 3 reads as we print for 'And cloath their simplest nakednesse,' which is clumsy and poor: st. 15: Here, as in the poem, 'On the bleeding wounds of our crucified Lord' (st. 6), where we read 'The thorns that Thy blest brows encloses,' and elsewhere, we have an example of the Elizabethan use of 'that' as a singular (referring to and thus made a collective plural) taken as the governing nominative to the verb. So in this poem of 'Wishes' we have 'Eyes that bestow,' 'Joys that confess,' 'Tresses that wear.' But it must be stated that the HARLEIAN MS., as before, reads not as in 1646 and 1648 'displaces,' 'out-faces' and 'graces,' but as printed by us on its authority; certainly the rhythm is improved thereby: st. 18, line 2, ib. 'dares' for 'dare;' adopted: st. 24, looking to 'tears quickly fled' of next stanza, I think 'flight' is correct, and not a misprint for 'slight.' Accordingly I have punctuated with a comma after fond, flight being = the shrinking-away of the bride, like the Horatian fair lady, a fugitive yet wishful of her lover's kiss: st. 31, HARLEIAN MS. as before, 'Open sunn:' st. 42, line 3, 'be you my fictions, she my story.' G.

TO THE QUEEN:

AN APOLOGIE FOR THE LENGTH OF THE FOLLOWING PANEGYRICK.[85]

When you are mistresse of the song, 1
Mighty queen, to thinke it long,
Were treason 'gainst that majesty
Your Vertue wears. Your modesty
Yet thinks it so. But ev'n that too 5
--Infinite, since part of you--
New matter for our Muse supplies,
And so allowes what it denies.
Say then dread queen, how may we doe
To mediate 'twixt your self and you? 10
That so our sweetly temper'd song
Nor be too sort, nor seeme to[o] long.
Needs must your noble prayses' strength
That made it long excuse the length.

TO THE QUEEN,

VPON HER NUMEROUS PROGENIE: A PANEGYRICK.[86]

Britain! the mighty Ocean's lovely bride! 1
Now stretch thy self, fair isle, and grow: spread wide
Thy bosome, and make roome. Thou art opprest
With thine own glories, and art strangely blest
Beyond thy self: for (lo!) the gods, the gods 5
Come fast upon thee; and those glorious ods
Swell thy full honours to a pitch so high
As sits above thy best capacitie.
Are they not ods? and glorious? that to thee
Those mighty genii throng, which well might be 10
Each one an Age's labour? that thy dayes
Are gilded with the union of those rayes
Whose each divided beam would be a sunne
To glad the sphere of any Nation?
Sure, if for these thou mean'st to find a seat, 15
Th' hast need, O Britain, to be truly Great.
And so thou art; their presence makes thee so:
They are thy greatnesse. Gods, where-e're they go,
Bring their Heav'n with them: their great footsteps place
An everlasting smile upon the face 20
Of the glad Earth they tread on: while with thee
Those beames that ampliate mortalitie,
And teach it to expatiate and swell
To majestie and fulnesse, deign to dwell,
Thou by thy self maist sit, (blest Isle) and see 25
How thy great mother Nature dotes on thee.
Thee therefore from the rest apart she hurl'd,
And seem'd to make an Isle, but made a World.

Time yet hath dropt few plumes since Hope turn'd Joy,
And took into his armes the princely boy, 30
Whose birth last blest the bed of his sweet mother,
And bad us first salute our prince, a brother.

_The Prince and Duke of York._

Bright Charles! thou sweet dawn of a glorious Day!
Centre of those thy grandsires (shall I say,
Henry and James? or, Mars and Phoebus rather? 35
If this were Wisdome's god, that War's stern father;
'Tis but the same is said: Henry and James
Are Mars and Phoebus under diverse names):
O thou full mixture of those mighty souls
Whose vast intelligences tun'd the poles 40
Of Peace and War; thou, for whose manly brow
Both lawrels twine into one wreath, and woo
To be thy garland: see (sweet prince), O see,
Thou, and the lovely hopes that smile in thee,
Art ta'n out and transcrib'd by thy great mother: 45
See, see thy reall shadow; see thy brother,
Thy little self in lesse: trace in these eyne
The beams that dance in those full stars of thine.
From the same snowy alabaster rock
Those hands and thine were hewn; those cherries mock 50
The corall of thy lips: thou wert of all
This well-wrought copie the fair principall.

_Lady Mary._

Iustly, great Nature, didst thou brag, and tell
How ev'n th' hadst drawn that faithfull parallel,
And matcht thy master-piece. O then go on, 55
Make such another sweet comparison.
Seest thou that Marie there? O teach her mother
To shew her to her self in such another.
Fellow this wonder too; nor let her shine
Alone; light such another star, and twine 60
Their rosie beams, that so the Morn for one
Venus, may have a constellation.

_Lady Elizabeth._

These words scarce waken'd Heaven, when--lo!--our vows
Sat crown'd upon the noble infant's brows.
Th' art pair'd, sweet princesse: in this well-writ book 65
Read o're thy self; peruse each line, each look.
And when th' hast summ'd up all those blooming blisses,
Close up the book, and clasp it with thy kisses.
So have I seen (to dresse their mistresse May)
Two silken sister-flowers consult, and lay 70
Their bashfull cheeks together: newly they
Peep't from their buds, show'd like the garden's eyes
Scarce wak't: like was the crimson of their joyes;
Like were the tears they wept, so like, that one
Seem'd but the other's kind reflexion. 75

_The new-borne Prince._

And now 'twere time to say, sweet queen, no more.
Fair source of princes, is thy pretious store
Not yet exhaust? O no! Heavens have no bound,
But in their infinite and endlesse round
Embrace themselves. Our measure is not their's; 80
Nor may the pov'rtie of man's narrow prayers
Span their immensitie. More princes come:
Rebellion, stand thou by; Mischief, make room:
War, blood, and death--names all averse from Ioy--
Heare this, we have another bright-ey'd boy: 85
That word's a warrant, by whose vertue I
Have full authority to bid you dy.
Dy, dy, foul misbegotten monsters! dy:
Make haste away, or e'r the World's bright eye
Blush to a cloud of bloud. O farre from men 90
Fly hence, and in your Hyperborean den
Hide you for evermore, and murmure there
Where none but Hell may heare, nor our soft aire
Shrink at the hatefull sound. Mean while we bear
High as the brow of Heaven, the noble noise 95
And name of these our just and righteous joyes,
Where Envie shall not reach them, nor those eares
Whose tune keeps time to ought below the spheres.
But thou, sweet supernumerary starre,
Shine forth; nor fear the threats of boyst'rous Warre. 100
The face of things has therefore frown'd a while
On purpose, that to thee and thy pure smile
The World might ow an universall calm;
While thou, fair halcyon, on a sea of balm
Shalt flote; where while thou layst thy lovely head, 105
The angry billows shall but make thy bed:
Storms, when they look on thee, shall straigt relent;
And tempests, when they tast thy breath, repent
To whispers, soft as thine own slumbers be,
Or souls of virgins which shall sigh for thee. 110
Shine then, sweet supernumerary starre,
Nor feare the boysterous names of bloud and warre:
Thy birth-day is their death's nativitie;
They've here no other businesse but to die.

_To the Queen._

But stay; what glimpse was that? why blusht the Day? 115
Why ran the started aire trembling away?
Who's this that comes circled in rayes that scorn
Acquaintance with the sun? what second morn
At midday opes a presence which Heaven's eye
Stands off and points at? Is't some deity 120
Stept from her throne of starres, deignes to be seen?
Is it some deity? or is't our queen?
'Tis she, 'tis she: her awfull beauties chase
The Day's abashed glories, and in face
Of noon wear their own sunshine. O thou bright 125
Mistresse of wonders! Cynthia's is the Night;
But thou at noon dost shine, and art all day
(Nor does thy sun deny't) our Cynthia.
Illustrious sweetnesse! in thy faithfull wombe,
That nest of heroes, all our hopes find room. 130
Thou art the mother-phenix, and thy brest
Chast as that virgin honour of the East,
But much more fruitfull is; nor does, as she,
Deny to mighty Love, a deitie.
Then let the Eastern world brag and be proud 135
Of one coy phenix, while we have a brood,
A brood of phenixes: while we have brother
And sister-phenixes, and still the mother.
And may we long! Long may'st thou live t'increase
The house and family of phenixes. 140
Nor may the life that gives their eye-lids light
E're prove the dismall morning of thy night:
Ne're may a birth of thine be bought so dear
To make his costly cradle of thy beer.
O may'st thou thus make all the year thine own, 145
And see such names of joy sit white upon
The brow of every month! and when th' hast done,
Mayst in a son of his find every son
Repeated, and that son still in another,
And so in each child, often prove a mother. 150
Long may'st thou, laden with such clusters, lean
Vpon thy royall elm (fair vine!) and when
The Heav'ns will stay no longer, may thy glory
And name dwell sweet in some eternall story!

Pardon (bright Excellence,) an untun'd string, 155
That in thy eares thus keeps a murmuring.
O speake a lowly Muse's pardon, speake
Her pardon, or her sentence; onely breake
Thy silence. Speake, and she shall take from thence
Numbers, and sweetnesse, and an influence 160
Confessing thee. Or (if too long I stay,)
O speake thou, and my pipe hath nought to say:
For see Apollo all this while stands mute,
Expecting by thy voice to tune his lute.

But gods are gracious; and their altars make 165
Pretious the offrings that their altars take.
Give then this rurall wreath fire from thine eyes,
This rurall wreath dares be thy sacrifice.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

This poem was originally entitled (as _supra_) 'Upon the Duke of York's Birth.' As new children were born additions were made to it and the title altered. Cf. the Latin poem in our vol. ii. _ad Reginam_.

The children celebrated were the following: Charles James, born May 13, 1628, died the same day; the Queen's first child: Charles II., born May 29, 1630: James, who is placed before his sister Mary, who was older than he; born Oct. 14, 1633; afterwards James II.: Princess Mary, born Nov. 4, 1631, afterwards mother of William III.: Princess Elizabeth, born Dec. 28, 1635; died of grief at her father's tragical end, Sept. 8, 1650; was buried in the church at Newport, Isle of Wight, where her remains were found in 1793. Vaughan the Silurist has a fine poem to her memory (our edition, vol. ii. pp. 115-17): Anne, born March 17, 1636-7; she died Dec. 8, 1640 (Crashaw from first to last keeps Death out of his poem): Henry, born July 8, 1640, afterwards Duke of Gloucester and Earl of Cambridge. Henrietta Anne, born June 16, 1644, is not named.

The title in 1646 is 'Vpon the Duke of Yorke his Birth: a Panegyricke;' and so in 1670, which throughout agrees with that very imperfect text, except in one deplorable blunder of its own left uncorrected by TURNBULL, as noted below. The heading in the SANCROFT MS. is 'A Panegyrick vpon the birth of the Duke of Yorke. R. CR.'

Line 7, in 1646 'glories' for 'honours.' In the SANCROFT MS. line 8
reads 'As sitts alone ....'

Line 15, ib. 'O' for 'Sure.'

" 16, ib. 'Th' art.'

" 29-32 restored from 1648. Not in SANCROFT MS.

" 33. These headings here and onward omitted hitherto.

" 34, in 1646 'great' for 'bright.'

" 43, our text (1648) misprints 'owne' for 'one' of Voces
Votivae.

Line 50, 1646 oddly misprints 'these Cherrimock.'

Line 52, 1646, 'art' for 'wert.'

" 54, ib. 'may'st' for 'did'st.'

" 55, ib. 'th' art' for 'th' hadst.'

" 64-70 restored from 1648. Not in SANCROFT MS.

" 74, 1646, 'pearls' for 'tears.' So the SANCROFT MS.

" 78-118, all these lines--most characteristic---restored
from 1648. TURNBULL overlooked them. Not in the SANCROFT MS.

Line 140, 1670 drops a line here, and thus confuses,

'A brood of phenixes, and still the mother:
And may we long: long may'st thou live t' encrease
The house,' &c.

PEREGRINE PHILLIPS in his selections from CRASHAW (1785), following the text of 1670, says in a foot-note, 'A line seems wanting, but is so in the original copy.' TURNBULL follows suit and says, 'Here a line seems deficient.' If either had consulted the 'original' editions, which both professed to know, it would have saved them from this and numerous kindred blunders.

line 145, 1646, 'light' for 'life.'

" 151, ib. 'that's.'

" 170, ib. 'their' for 'the offerings.'

In line 27 'Thee therefore &c.' is a thought not unfrequent with the
panegyrists of James. BEN JONSON makes use of it at least twice. In
the Masque of Blackness we have,

'With that great name Britannia, this blest isle
Hath won her ancient dignity and style;
A world divided from a world, and tried
The abstract of it, in his general pride.'

SHAKESPEARE used the same thought more nobly when he made it the theme of that glorious outburst of patriotism from the lips of the dying Gaunt. G.

VPON TWO GREENE APRICOCKES SENT TO COWLEY BY SIR CRASHAW.[87]

Take these, Time's tardy truants, sent by me 1
To be chastis'd (sweet friend) and chide by thee.
Pale sons of our Pomona! whose wan cheekes
Have spent the patience of expecting weekes,
Yet are scarce ripe enough at best to show 5
The redd, but of the blush to thee they ow.
By thy comparrison they shall put on
More Summer in their shame's reflection,
Than ere the fruitfull Phoebus' flaming kisses
Kindled on their cold lips. O had my wishes 10
And the deare merits of your Muse, their due,
The yeare had found some fruit early as you;
Ripe as those rich composures Time computes
Blossoms, but our blest tast confesses fruits.
How does thy April-Autumne mocke these cold 15
Progressions 'twixt whose termes poor Time grows old!
With thee alone he weares no beard, thy braine
Gives him the morning World's fresh gold againe.
'Twas only Paradice, 'tis onely thou,
Whose fruit and blossoms both blesse the same bough. 20
Proud in the patterne of thy pretious youth,
Nature (methinks) might easily mend her growth.
Could she in all her births but coppie thee,
Into the publick yeares proficiencie,
No fruit should have the face to smile on thee 25
(Young master of the World's maturitie)
But such whose sun-borne beauties what they borrow
Of beames to day, pay back again to morrow,
Nor need be double-gilt. How then must these
Poor fruites looke pale at thy Hesperides! 30
Faine would I chide their slownesse, but in their
Defects I draw mine own dull character.
Take them, and me in them acknowledging,
How much my Summer waites upon thy Spring.

ALEXIAS:

THE COMPLAINT OF THE FORSAKEN WIFE OF SAINTE ALEXIS.[88]

THE FIRST ELEGIE.

I late the Roman youth's loud prayse and pride, 1
Whom long none could obtain, though thousands try'd;
Lo, here am left (alas!) For my lost mate
T' embrace my teares, and kisse an vnkind fate.
Sure in my early woes starres were at strife, 5
And try'd to make a widow ere a wife.
Nor can I tell (and this new teares doth breed)
In what strange path, my lord's fair footsteppes bleed.
O knew I where he wander'd, I should see
Some solace in my sorrow's certainty: 10
I'd send my woes in words should weep for me,
(Who knowes how powerfull well-writt praires would be.)
Sending's too slow a word; myselfe would fly.
Who knowes my own heart's woes so well as I?
But how shall I steal hence? Alexis thou, 15
Ah thou thy self, alas! hast taught me how.
Loue too that leads the way would lend the wings
To bear me harmlesse through the hardest things.
And where Loue lends the wing, and leads the way,
What dangers can there be dare say me nay? 20
If I be shipwrack't, Loue shall teach to swimme:
If drown'd, sweet is the death indur'd for him:
The noted sea shall change his name with me,
I'mongst the blest starres, a new name shall be.
And sure where louers make their watry graues, 25
The weeping mariner will augment the waues.
For who so hard, but passing by that way
Will take acquaintance of my woes, and say
Here 'twas the Roman maid found a hard fate,
While through the World she sought her wandring mate 30
Here perish't she, poor heart; Heauns, be my vowes
As true to me, as she was to her spouse.
O liue, so rare a loue! liue! and in thee
The too frail life of femal constancy.
Farewell; and shine, fair soul, shine there aboue 35
Firm in thy crown, as here fast in thy loue.
There thy lost fugitiue th' hast found at last:
Be happy; and for euer hold him fast.

THE SECOND ELEGIE.

Though all the ioyes I had, fled hence with thee, 1
Vnkind! yet are my teares still true to me:
I'm wedded o're again since thou art gone;
Nor couldst thou, cruell, leaue me quite alone.
Alexis' widdow now is Sorrow's wife, 5
With him shall I weep out my weary life.
Wellcome, my sad-sweet mate! Now haue I gott
At last a constant Loue, that leaues me not:
Firm he, as thou art false; nor need my cryes
Thus vex the Earth and teare the beauteous skyes. 10
For him, alas! n'ere shall I need to be
Troublesom to the world thus as for thee:
For thee I talk to trees; with silent groues
Expostulate my woes and much-wrong'd loues;
Hills and relentlesse rockes, or if there be 15
Things that in hardnesse more allude to thee,
To these I talk in teares, and tell my pain,
And answer too for them in teares again.
How oft haue I wept out the weary sun!
My watry hour-glasse hath old Time's outrunne. 20
O I am learned grown: poor Loue and I
Haue study'd ouer all Astrology;
I'm perfect in Heaun's state; with euery starr
My skillfull greife is grown familiar.
Rise, fairest of those fires; what'ere thou be 25
Whose rosy beam shall point my sun to me.
Such as the sacred light that e'rst did bring
The Eastern princes to their infant King,
O rise, pure lamp! and lend thy golden ray
That weary Loue at last may find his way. 30

THE THIRD ELEGIE.

Rich, churlish Land! that hid'st so long in thee 1
My treasures; rich, alas! by robbing mee.
Needs must my miseryes owe that man a spite
Who e're he be was the first wandring knight.
O had he nere been at that cruell cost 5
Natvre's virginity had nere been lost;
Seas had not bin rebuk't by sawcy oares
But ly'n lockt vp safe in their sacred shores;
Men had not spurn'd at mountaines; nor made warrs
With rocks, nor bold hands struck the World's strong barres, 10
Nor lost in too larg bounds, our little Rome
Full sweetly with it selfe had dwell't at home.
My poor Alexis, then, in peacefull life
Had vnder some low roofe lou'd his plain wife;
But now, ah me! from where he has no foes 15
He flyes; and into willfull exile goes.
Cruell, return, O tell the reason why
Thy dearest parents have deseru'd to dy.
And I, what is my crime, I cannot tell,
Vnlesse it be a crime t' haue lou'd too well. 20
If heates of holyer loue and high desire,
Make bigge thy fair brest with immortall fire,
What needes my virgin lord fly thus from me,
Who only wish his virgin wife to be?
Witnesse, chast Heauns! no happyer vowes I know 25
Then to a virgin grave vntouch't to goe.
Loue's truest knott by Venus is not ty'd,
Nor doe embraces onely make a bride.
The queen of angels (and men chast as you)
Was maiden-wife and maiden-mother too. 30
Cecilia, glory of her name and blood,
With happy gain her maiden-vowes made good:
The lusty bridegroom made approach; young man
Take heed (said she) take heed, Valerian!
My bosome's guard, a spirit great and strong, 35
Stands arm'd, to sheild me from all wanton wrong;
My chastity is sacred; and my Sleep
Wakefull, her dear vowes vndefil'd to keep.
Pallas beares armes, forsooth; and should there be
No fortresse built for true Virginity? 40
No gaping Gorgon, this: none, like the rest
Of your learn'd lyes. Here you'll find no such iest.
I'm your's: O were my God, my Christ so too,
I'd know no name of Loue on Earth but you.
He yeilds, and straight baptis'd, obtains the grace 45
To gaze on the fair souldier's glorious face.
Both mixt at last their blood in one rich bed
Of rosy martyrdome, twice married.
O burn our Hymen bright in such high flame,
Thy torch, terrestriall Loue, haue here no name. 50
How sweet the mutuall yoke of man and wife,
When holy fires maintain Loue's heaunly life!
But I (so help me Heaun my hopes to see)
When thousands sought my loue, lou'd none but thee.
Still, as their vain teares my firm vowes did try, 55
Alexis, he alone is mine (said I).
Half true, alas! half false, proues that poor line,
Alexis is alone; but is not mine.

NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

The heading in 1648 omits 'Sainte.' These variations from 1648 are interesting:

1st Elegy: Line 9, 'would' for 'should.'

Line 17, our text (1652) drops 'way' inadvertently. TURNBULL tinkers
it by reading 'thee' for 'the,' instead of collating the texts.

Line 23, 'its' for 'his.'

" 25, 'when' for 'where.'

" 37, I have adopted 'th'' for 'thou' of our text (1652).
2d Elegy: Line 1, our text (1652) misspells 'fleed.'
Line 3, ib. misprints 'I' am.'

" 10, ib. drops 'beauteous' inadvertently. TURNBULL,
for a wonder, wakes up here to notice a deficient word; but
again, instead of collating his texts, inserts without authority
'lofty.' Had he turned to 1648 edition, he would have found
'beauteous.'

Line 20, I have adopted 'Time's' for 'Time.'

" 23, as in line 17 in 1st Elegy.

" 30, a reference to the 'Love will find out the way,'
in the old song 'Over the mountain.' 'Weary' is misprinted
'Wary' in 1670.

3d Elegy: Line 7, 'with' for 'by.'

Line 17, our text (1652) misprints 'Or' for 'O.'

" 20, I accept 't'' for 'to.'

" 29, 'The Blessed Virgin' for 'The queen of angels.'

" 41, 'facing' for 'gaping.'

" 43, as in line 17 in 1st Elegy.

" 50, 'hath' for 'haue.'

" 51, 'sweet's' for 'sweet.'

" 54, our text (1652) misprints 'thousand.' G.

Secular Poetry.

II.

AIRELLES.

NOTE.

See Note on page 184 for reference on the title here and elsewhere of 'Airelles.' G.

UPON THE KING'S CORONATION.[89]

Sound forth, coelestiall organs, let heauen's quire
Ravish the dancing orbes, make them mount higher
With nimble capers, & force Atlas tread
Vpon his tiptoes, e're his siluer head
Shall kisse his golden curthen. Thou glad Isle,
That swim'st as deepe in joy, as seas, now smile;
Lett not thy weighty glories, this full tide
Of blisse, debase thee; but with a just pride
Swell: swell to such an height, that thou maist vye
With heauen itselfe for stately majesty.
Doe not deceiue mee, eyes: doe I not see
In this blest earth heauen's bright epitome,
Circled with pure refined glory? heere
I view a rising sunne in this our sphere,
Whose blazing beames, maugre the blackest night,
And mists of greife, dare force a joyfull light.
The gold, in wch he flames, does well praesage
A precious season, & a golden age.
Doe I not see joy keepe his revels now,
And sitt triumphing in each cheerfull brow?
Vnmixt felicity with siluer wings
Broodeth this sacred place: hither Peace brings
The choicest of her oliue-crownes, & praies
To haue them guilded with his courteous raies.
Doe I not see a Cynthia, who may
Abash the purest beauties of the day?
To whom heauen's lampes often in silent night
Steale from their stations to repaire their light.
Doe I not see a constellation,
Each little beame of wch would make a sunne?
I meane those three great starres, who well may scorn
Acquaintance with the vsher of the morne.
To gaze vpon such starres each humble eye
Would be ambitious of astronomie
Who would not be a phoenix, & aspire
To sacrifice himselfe in such sweet fire?
Shine forth, ye flaming sparkes of Deity,
Yee perfect emblemes of divinity.
Fixt in your spheres of glory, shed from thence,
The treasures of our liues, your influence,
For if you sett, who may not justly feare,
The world will be one ocean, one great teare.

UPON THE KING'S CORONATION.