FROM noise of scare-fires rest ye free,
From murders Benedicitie ;
From all mischances that may fright
Your pleasing slumbers in the night;
Mercie secure ye all, and keep
The goblin from ye, while ye sleep.
Past one aclock, and almost two,
My masters all," Good day to you."
Of all our parts, the eyes expresse
The sweetest kind of bashfulnesse.
TO THE MOST ACCOMPLISHT GENTLEMAN,
MASTER EDWARD NORGATE,
CLARK OF THE SIGNET TO HIS MAJESTY.
FOR one so rarely tun'd to fit all parts ;
For one to whom espous'd are all the arts;
Long have I sought for; but co'd never see
Them all concenter'd in one man, but thee.
Thus thou that man art, whom the Fates conspir'd
To make but one, and that's thy selfe, admir'd.
UPON PRUDENCE BALDWIN, HER SICKNESSE.
PRUE, my dearest maid, is sick,
Almost to be lunatick :
Esculapius! come and bring
Means for her recovering;
And a gallant cock shall be
Offer'd up by her to thee.
TO APOLLO. A SHORT HYMNE.
PHŒBUS, when that I a verse,
Or some numbers more rehearse;
Tune my words, that they may fall
Each way smoothly musicall;
For which favour, there shall be
Swans devoted unto thee.
A HYMNE TO BACCHUS.
BACCHUS, let me drink no more,
Wild are seas that want a shore ;
When our drinking has no stint,
There is no one pleasure in't.
I have drank up for to please
Thee, that great cup, Hercules.
Urge no more; and there shall be
Daffadills g'en up to thee.
BUNGIE do's fast; looks pale; puts sack-cloth on;
Not out of conscience, or religion;
Or that this yonker keeps so strict a Lent,
Fearing to break the King's commandement ;
But being poore, and knowing flesh is deare,
He keeps not one, but many Lents i̇' th' yeare.
HERE down my wearyed limbs Ile lay;
My pilgrims staffe, my weed of gray;
My palmers hat, my scallops shell;
My crosse, my cord, and all farewell.
For having now my journey done,
Just at the setting of the sun,
Here have I found a chamber fit,
God and good friends be thankt for it,
Where if I can a lodger be
A little while from tramplers free;
At my up-rising next, I shall,
If not requite, yet thank ye all.
Meane while, the Holy-rood hence fright
The fouler fiend and evill spright,
From scaring you or yours this night.
Good things, that come of course, far lesse doe please Then those which come by sweet contingences.
BRIBES AND GIFTS GET ALL.
DEAD falls the cause, if once the hand be mute;
But let that speak, the client gets the suit.
IF well thou hast begun, goe on fore-right ;
It is the end that crownes us, not the fight.
UPON A CHILD THAT DYED.
HERE she lies, a pretty bud,
Lately made of flesh and blood;
Who, as soone fell fast asleep,
As her little eyes did peep.
Give her strewings, but not stir
The earth, that lightly covers her.
SNEAPE has a face so brittle, that it breaks
Forth into blushes whensoere he speaks.
CONTENT, NOT CATES.
'Tis not the food, but the content
That makes the table's merriment.
Where trouble serves the board, we eate
The platters there as soone as meat.
A little pipkin with a bit..
Of mutton, or of veale in it,
Set on my table, trouble-free,
More then a feast contenteth me.
THE ENTERTAINMENT; OR, PORCH-VERSE, AT THE MARRIAGE OF MR. HEN. NORTHLY,
AND THE MOST WITTY MRS. LETTICE YARD.
WELCOME! but yet no entrance, till we blesse
and both for white successe.
Profane no porch, young man and maid, for fear
Ye wrong the threshold-god that keeps peace here:
Please him, and then all good-luck will betide
You, the brisk bridegroome, you, the dainty bride.
Do all things sweetly, and in comely wise,
Put on your garlands first, then sacrifice;
That done, when both of you have seemly fed,
We'll call on night to bring ye both to bed;
Where being laid, all faire signes looking on,
Fish-like, encrease then to a million;
And millions of spring-times may ye have,
Which spent, one death bring to ye both one grave.
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