VERSA EST IN LUCTUM CYTHARA MEA. 10B. LOVE! I no orgies sing Whereby thy mercies to invoke: Nor from the East rich perfumes bring To cloude thy altars with the precious smoake. Nor while I did frequent Religious was the charme I used affection to intice: And thought none burnt more bright or warme, Yet chaste as winter was the sacrifice. But now I thee bequeath To the soft silken youths at court: To raise their mistresse' smile, or make her sport. They'le smooth thee into rime, Such as shall catch the wanton eare: To make thein a high sayle of honour beare. And may a powerfull smile Cherish their flatteries of wit! For I have seen the pine I have seene cædars fall, And in their roome a mushrome grow: I have seene comets, threatning all, Vanish themselves: I have scene princes so. Vaine triviall dust! weake man! Where is that vertue of thy breath, The glorious troubles of the court. For though And in the humble shade we gather ill For when, with losse of breath, we have orecome But you (my lord) prevented by foresight When thou thy selfe art cal'd t' account by Death? Weighs light, if ballanc'd with the feare or paine." When I consider thee The scorne of Time, and sport of Fate, How can I turne to jollitie My ill-strung harpe, and court the delicate? How can I but disdaine The emptie fallacies of mirth; And in my midnight thoughts retaine, How high so ere I spread, my root's in earth. Fond youth! too long I play'd The wanton with a false delight: Then since pride doth betray Affirme my scheme doth not presage I may enjoy a reverent length of age. But they are jugglers, and by slight Of faith delude: and in their schoole A mistery of each mistake, And teach strange words credulity to foole. For thou who first didst motion give, Whereby things live, And time hath being! to conceale And keepe in awe the curious search of zeale. Therefore, so I prepar'd still be, O'th' sudden on my spirits may Or weakened by a feeble age, decay. And so I in thy favour dye, No memorie For me a well-wrought tombe prepare, NON NOBIS DOMINE. DAVID. No marble statue, nor high How can the feeble workes of art That tide which did its banckes ore-flow, Ebbes like a theefe away. How wilt thou hate thy warres, when be, Perhapes thought worthier praise? BOLUM MIHI SUPEREST SEPULCHRUM. WELCOME, thou safe retreate! Where th' injured man may fortifie 'Gainst the invasions of the great: 108. Where the leane slave, who th' ore doth plye, Soft as his admirall may lye. Great statist! 'tis your doome, Though your designes swell high and wide, Nor shall your shade delight Will say, "The poet's wit here lyes." How reconcil'd to fate Will grow the aged villager, When he shall see your funerall state! The great decree of God Even I, while humble zeale And when I'me lost in death's cold night, ET FUGIT VELUT UMBRA. IOB. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THE LORD KINTyre, THAT shadow your faire body made Rais'd high on marble, our unthankfull heire Give an account, that ere they had a name. And though the superstition of those times, In their cœlestiall travaile, that bright coast [fright These are sad thoughts (my lord) and such as The easie soule made tender with delight, Who thinkes that he hath forfitted that houre Which addes not to his pleasure or his powre. But by the friendship which your lordship daignes Your servant, I have found your judgement raignes Above all passion in you: and that sence Could never yet demolish that strong fence Which vertue guards you with: by which you are Triumphant in the best, the inward warre. NOX NOCTI INDICAT SCIENTIAM. WHEN I Survay the bright Celestiall spheare: So rich with jewels hung, that night My soule her wings doth spread, The Almighty's mysteries to read So silent, but is eloquent No unregarded star Contracts its light Into so small a character, Remov'd far from our humane sight: But if we stedfast looke We shall discerne In it, as in some holy booke, DAVID. How man may heavenly knowledge learne, It tells the conqueror, That farre stretcht powre. That from the farthest North, Some nation may Yet undiscovered issue forth, Some nation yet shut in With hils of ice May be let out to scourge his sinne, And then they likewise shall For as your selves your empires fall, Thus those cœlestiall fires, Though seeming mute, The fallacie of our desires For they have watcht since first ET ALTA A LONGE COGNOSCIT. DAVID. To the cold humble hermitage Stain'd with some pagan fiction, keepes aloofe. Rich structures they must as their owners, dys: In th' injuries of an ill cover'd cell! 'Gainst whose too weake defence the haile, The angry winds, and frequent showres prevaile. Where the swift measures of the day Shall be distinguisht onely as I pray : And some starre's solitary light Be the sole taper to the tedious night. The neighboring fountaine (not accurst Like wine with madnesse) shall allay my thirst: And the wilde fruites of Nature give Dyet enough, to let me feele I live. You wantons! who impoverish scas, And th' ayre dispeople, your proud taste to please! Who varies still its tribute with the day. Since it obscure the spirit must, And bow the flesh to sleepe, disease or lust. DAVID. My soule! when thou and I How wilt thou then, that art Some strength: and flatter thy poore state, 'Cause 'tis the common fate? How will thy spirits pant And tremble when they feele the want When 'tis decreed, that thou must goe, Finde none, but what must kill ? And while my children's teares, My wive's vaine hopes, but certaine feares, And councells of divines advance Death in each dolefull circumstance: I shall even a sad mourner be For by examples I Must know that others' sorrowes dye Soone as our selves, and none survive To keepe our memories alive. Even our fals tombes, as loath to say We once had life, decay. Which your cœlestiall flight denyed: O you! whom your Creator's sight Sing forth the triumphs of his name, You 'bove the frailtie of your birth : And layes a siege so streight, Our mindes to thinke his praise, To speake him infinite, So farre above the search of sence? O you! who are immaculate His name may celebrate To his perpetuall light, That even with him you now shine one. To shorten the sad length of time: And a new sigh for every crime. Each small tempest shakes the proud; But let stormes speake nere so loud, DEUS DEUS MEUS. WHERE is that foole philosophie, DAVID. That bedlam reason, and that beast dull sence; Vnmov'd thou didst behold the pride To punish treason, rackes and death in hell. l'th' lower part whereof we wage such warres: By purer bodies tenanted, the starres. And though sixe dayes it thee did please But to teach man the quantities of time. So 'bove the reach of all dimension : Distinguish part of thy immensitie ? What an who dare call thee God! Who am not sure to farme this very houre? In my fraile glasse of life, doth not now fall? I but prepare for my owne funeral? Death doth with man no order keepe: It reckons not by the expence of yeares. But makes the queene and beggar weepe, Falls as he him pursues, who from him flyes, The states-man suddenly expires While he for others ruine doth prepare: And the gay lady while sh' admires Her pride, and curles in wanton nets her haire. 'Gainst the assault of th' universall doome: But who th' Almighty feare, deride Pale Death, and meet with triumph in the tombe |