OF

ON NEW-YEAR'S DAY, 1640.

TO THE KING.

AWAKE (great sir) the Sun shines here, Gives all your subjects a new year,

Only we stay till you appear;

For thus by us your power is understood,

LOVING AND BELOVED. THERE never yet was honest man That ever drove the trade of love;

It is impossible, nor can

Integrity our ends promove:
For kings and lovers are alike in this,

Awake, awake!

And take

Such presents as poor men can make : They can add little unto bliss

Who cannot wish.

May no ill vapour cloud the sky,

Bold storms invade the sovereignty ;
But gales of joy, so fresh, so high,

That you may think Heav'n sent to try this year
What sail, or burthen, a king's mind could bear.

Awake, awake, &c.

May all the discords in your state (Like those in musick we create) Be govern'd at so wise a rate,

That what would of it self sound harsh, or fright, May be so temper'd that it may delight.

Awake, awake, &c.

What conquerors from battles find,
Or lovers when their doves are kind,

Take up henceforth our master's mind,

Make such strange rapes upon the place, 't may be No longer joy there, but an ecstasie.

Awake, awake, &c.

May every pleasure and delight That has or does your sense invite Double this year, save those o'th' night: For such a marriage-bed must know no more Than repetition of what was before.

Here we are lov'd, and there we love,
Good-nature now and passion strive
Which of the two should be above,
And laws unto the other give.

So we false fire with art sometimes discover,
And the true fire with the same art to cover.

What rack can fancy find so high?

Here we must court, and here ingage, Though in the other place we die.

Oh! 'tis torture all, and cozenage;
And which the harder is, I cannot tell,
To hide true love, or make false love look well.

Since it is thus, god of desire,
Give me my honesty again,
And take thy brands back, and thy fire;
I'm weary of the state I'm in :
Since (if the very best should now befall)
Love's triumph must be honour's funeral.

A SESSIONS OF THE POETS.

A SESSION was held the other day,
And Apollo himself was at it (they say:)
The laurel that had been so long reserv'd,
Was now to be given to him best deserv'd.

And

Therefore the wits of the town came thither,
'Twas strange to see how they flocked together.
Each strongly confident of his own way,
Thought to gain the laurel away that day:

Suckling next was call'd, but did not appear;
But straight one whisper'd Apollo i'th' ear,
That of all men living he cared not for't,
He loved not the Muses so well as his sport;
And prized black eyes, or a lucky hit
At bowls, above all the trophies of wit;
But Apollo was angry, and publickly said,
'Twere fit that a fine were set upon's head.

Wat Montague now stood forth to his tryal,
And did not so much as suspect a denial;
But witty Apollo asked him first of all,
If he understood his own Pastoral.
For if he could do it, 'twould plainly appear
He understood more than any man there,
And did merit the bayes above all the rest;
But the mounsienr was modest, and silence confest.
During these troubles in the court was hid
One that Apollo soon mist. little Cid:
And having spied him, call'd him out of the throng,
And advis'd him in his ear not to write so strong.
Murrey was summon'd; but 'twas urg'd that he
Was chief already of another company.
Hales, set by himself, most gravely did smile,
To see them about nothing keep such a coil :
Apollo had spied him; but, knowing his mind,
Past by, and call'd Faulkland, that sat just behind:

But

He was of late so gone with divinity,
That he had almost forgot his poetry;
Though, to say the truth, (and Apollo did know it)
He might have been both his priest and his poet.
At length, who but an alderman did appear,
At which Will Davenant began to swear;
But wiser Apollo bade him draw nigher,
And when he was mounted a little higher,
Openly declared, that the best sign

Of good store of wit's to have good store of coin:
And without a syllable more or less said,
He put the lawrel on the alderman's head.
At this all the wits were in such a maze,
That for a good while they did nothing but gaze
One upon another, not a man in the place
But had discontent writ in great in his face.
Only the small poets clear'd up again,
Out of hope, as 'twas thought, of borrowing:
But sure they were out, for he forfeits his crown
When he lends any poets about the town.

LOVE'S WORLD.

In each man's heart that doth begin
To love, there's ever fram'd within
A little world, for so I found
When first my passion reason drown'd.
Instead of Earth unto this frame,

I had a faith was still the same;
For to be right, it doth behove
It be as that, fist and not move.
Yet as the Earth may sometimes shake,
(For winds shut up will cause a quake)
So often, jealousie and fear, ·

Stoln into mine, cause tremblings there.

Earth,

But as my Sun inclined to me,

Or more or less were sure to be.

Sometimes it would be full, and then,
Oh! too, too soon, decrease again!
Eclips'd sometimes, that 'twould so fall,
There would appear no hope at all.
My thoughts, 'cause infinite they be,
Must be those many Stars we see;
Of which some wandred at their will,
But most on her were fixed still.

My burning flame and hot desire
Must be the element of fire,
Which hath as yet so secret been,
That it, as that, was never seen.
No kitchen fire, nor eating flame,
But innocent, hot but in name;

Stars.

Fixed Planets.

Element of fire.

The Sea's my mind, which calm would be,
Were it from winds (my passions) free;
But out, alas! no sea, I find,
Is troubled like a lover's mind.

Within it rocks and shallows be,
Despair, and fond credulity.

But in this world it were good reason
We did distinguish time and season;
Her presence then did make the day,
And night shall come when she's away.

Long absence in far distant place
Create: the Winter; and the space
She tarryed with me, well I might
Call it my Summer of delight.

Diversity of weather came

Air.

Sea.

Winter.

Summer.

From what she did, and thence had name;
Sometimes sh' would smile, that made it fair;
And when she laught, the Sun shin'd clear.

Sometimes sh' would frown, and sometimes weep,
So clouds and rain their turns do keep;
Sometimes again sh' would be all ice,
Extreamly cold, extreamly nice.

But soft, my Muse; the world is wide,
And all at once was not descry'd :
It may fall out some honest lover
The rest hereafter will discover.