ERGASTUS.

He labours that we may

Not cast our pipes away;

That swords to plowsheares may be turn'd,
And neither folds, nor sheep-coats burn'd;
That no rude barbarous hands

May reap our well grown lands,
And that, sweet liberty being barr'd,
We not our selves become the heard;
Heaven bless him, and his books,
'Tis he must gild our hooks,
And for his charg's birth-sake, May
Shall be to me one holy day.

SYRINGUS.

Come, I'l along with thee, and joyn,
Some hasty gift to thine;

But we do pearls, and amber want,
And pretious stones are scant.
And how then shall we enter, where
Wealth ushers in the year?

ERGASTUS.

To him will orient show;

And the bee's bag as amber come
From the deep Ocean's womb;

And stones which murmuring waters chide,
Stopt by them as they glide,

If giv'n to him, will pretious grow;
Touch him, they must be so.

SYRINGUS.

I know a stream, that to the sight

Betraies smooth pebbles, black, and white; These I'l present, with which he may

Design each cross and happy day.

ERGASTUS.

None, none at all of blacker hue,
Only the white to him are due,

For Heaven, among the reverend store
Of learned men, loves no one more.

SYRINGUS.

Two days ago

My deep-fleec'd ewe, should have her lamb let

Which if't be so,

I mean to offer't to him dam and all;

And humbly say

I bring a gift as tender as the day.

ERGASTUS.

Name not a gift,

Who e'r bestows, he still returns him more; That's but our thrift

When he receives, he adds unto our store: Let's altars trim,

[fall,

Wishes are lambs, and kids, and flocks to him.

SYRINCUS.

Let's then the Sun arrest,
And so prolong our duties' feast,
Time will stay till he be blest.

ERGASTUS.

Wish thou to his charge, and then I'l wish t' himself, and both agen, Holy things to holy men.

SYRINGUS.

The unvext earth flowers to him bring, And make the year but one great spring;

Or if in furrows arm'd they spring, Death to themselves their weapons bring.

SYRINGUS.

May be more lawrels bring to us,
Than he that set the calender thus,
New deeds of glory will appear,
And make his deeds round as the year.

ERGASTUS.

And may his blessed guide out-live Years, and himself a new thread give; And so his days still fresh transmit, Doing as time, and conquering it.

SYRINGUS.

May vintage joys swell both their bowrs,

ERGASTUS.

And if they o'rflow, o'rflow on ours.

SYRINGUS.

O would that we, that we, such prophets were, As he that slew the lyon and the bear.

ERGASTUS.

Credit thy self, our wishes must prove true,
Far meaner shepheards have ben prophets too.
The most faithfull honourer of
your lordship's vertues,

A NEW-YEAR'S GIFT.

ALTHOUGH propriety be crost,

By those that cry't up most,

No vote hath yet pass'd to put down
The pious fires
Of good desires,

Our wishes are as yet our own.

Bless'd be the day then, 'tis new year's,
Nature's knows no such fears

As those which do our hearts divide,
In spight of force
Times keep their course,
The season's ruu not on their side.

I send my (Muse) to one that knows
What each relation ows,

One who keeps waking in his breast
No other sense
But conscience,

That only is his interest.

Though to be moderate, in this time,
Be thought almost a crime,

That vertue yet is his so much,
That they who make
All whom they take
Guilty, durst never call him such.

He wishes peace, that publike good,

Dry peace, not bought with bloud, Yet such as honour may maintain, And such the crown Would gladly own. Wish o'er that wish to him again.

W. C.

He wishes that this storm subside,

Hush'd by a turn of tide,

That one fix'd calm would smooth the main,
As winds relent
When furie's spent.

O wish that wish to him again.

The joys that solemn victories crown,
When we not slay our own,

Joys that deserve a generall song

When the day's gain'd

And no sword stain'd,

Press on and round him in a throng.

Thoughts rescue, and his danger kiss'd,
Being found as soon as miss'd,

Wish him not taken as before,

Hazard can ne'r

Make him more dear.

We must not fear so long once more.

Twist then in one most glorious wreath

All joys you can bequeath,

And see them on the kingdom thrown,
When there they dwell
He's pleas'd as well,

As if they sate on him alone.

Go, and return, and for his sake

Less noise and tumult make,

Than stars when they do run their rounds;

Though swords and spears

Late fill'd his eares,

He silence loves, or gentle sounds.

That you do make the church the main, no bye, And chiefly mean what others but apply..

Were every light thus regular as you,

And to it's destin'd motions true,

Did some not shine too short, but reach about,
And throw their wholsome lustre out,
What danger then or fear,
Would seize this sacred sphere?
Who would impute that thriving art
That turns a charge into a mart?

We would enjoy, like you, a state confess'd
Happy by all, still blessing, and still bless'd.
But whether false suspicion, or true crimes
Provoke the sowreness of the times;
Whether't be pride, or glory call'd pride, all
Expect at least some sudden fall;
And seeing as vices, so
Their cures may too far go,
And want of moderation be
Both in the ill, and remedy,

So that perhaps to bar th' abuse of wine,
Their zeal may lead them to cut up the vine.

Pray'rs are our arms; and the time affords
On a good day be said good words;
Could I shape things to votes, I'd wish a calm
Soveraign, and soft as flouds of balm;

MY LORD,

1640.

THOUGH the distemp'red many cry they see

The missall in our liturgie:

The almanack that is before it set
Goes true, and is not popish yet.
Whiles therefore none indites
This feast of Roman rites,
Whiles as yet New-year in red paint,
Is not cry'd out on for a saint;
Presents will be no offrings, and I may
Season my duty, safely with the day.

Now an impartiall court, deaf to pretence,
Sits like the kingdom's conscience,

While actions now are touch'd, and men are try'd,
Whether they can the day abide,

Though they should go about
To track offences out,

In deeds, in thought, without, within,
As casuists, when they search out sin;
When others shake, how safe do you appear,
And a just patriot know no private fear?

This you have gain'd from an unbiass'd breast,
Discharg'd of all self interest;

From square, and solid act ions without flaw,
That will in time themselves grow law,
Actions that shew you mean
Nought to the common scene,
That you'l ne'r lengther power by lust,
But shape and size it by your trust,

That more strength from laxations come.
But how can this appear

To humour the new year?

When proper wishes, fitly meant,

Should breath his good to whom they're sent. Y' have a large mind (my lord) and that assures, To wish the publike good, is to wish yours.

A NEW-YEAR'S-GIFT TO

BRIAN LORD BISHOP OF SARUM, UPON THE AUTHOR'S ENTRING INTO HOLY ORDERS, 1638.

Now that the village-reverence doth lye hid,
As Egypt's wisdom did,

In birds, and beasts, and that the tenant's soul,
Goes with his new-year's fowl:

So that the cock, and hen, speak more
Now than in fables heretofore;

And that the feather'd things,
Truly make love have wings;

Though we no flying present have to pay,

A quill yet snatch'd from thence may sign the day.

But being the canon bars me wit and wine,

Enjoyning the true vine,

Being the bayes must yeeld unto the cross,
And all be now one loss,

So that my raptures are to steal
And knit themselves in one pure zeal,

And that my each day's breath

Must be a dayly death;

Without all strain or fury, I must than
Tell you this new-year brings you a new man.

New, not as th' year, to run the same course o'r

Which it hath run before,

Lest in the man himself there be a round,

As in his humour's found,

And that return seem to make good
Circling of actions, as of bloud;
Motion as in a mill

Is busie standing still;

And by such wheeling we but thus prevaile,
To make the serpent swallow his own taile.

Nor new by solemnising looser toyes,

And erring with less noyse,

Taking the flag and trumpet from the sin,
So to offend within:

As some men silence loud perfumes,
And draw them into shorter rooms,
This will be understood

More wary, not more good.
Sins too may be severe, and so no doubt
The vice but only sowr'd, not rooted out.

But new, by th' using of each part aright,
Changing both step and sight,

That false direction come not from the eye,
Nor the foot tread awry,

That neither that the way aver,
Which doth tow'rd fame, or profit err,

Nor this tread that path, which
Is not the right, but rich;

That thus the foot being fixt, thus lead the eye,
I pitch my walk low, but my prospect high.

New too, to teach my opinions not t' submit
To favour, or to wit;

Nor yet to walk on edges, where they may
Run safe in broader way;

Nor to search out for new paths, where
Nor tracks nor footsteps doth appear,
Knowing that deeps are waies,
Where no impression staies,
Nor servile thus, nor curious, may I then
Approve my faith to Heaven, my life to men.

But I who thus present my self as new,

Am thus made new by you:

Had not your rayes dwelt on me, one long night
Had shut me up from sight;
Your beams exhale me from among
Things tumbling in the common throng,
Who thus with your fire burns
Now gives not, but returns;

To others then be this a day of thrift
They do receive, but you, sir, make the gift.