OF THE PRINCE'S IOURNEY.

Ta happy ship that carries from the land
Great Britaine's ioy, before she knowes her losse,
Is rul'd by him, who can the waues command.
No enuious stormes a quiet passage crosse :
See, how the water smiles, the wind breathes faire,
The clouds restraine their frownes, their sighes,
their teares,

As if the musicke of the whisp'ring ayre
Should tell the sea what precious weight it beares.
A thousand vowes and wishes driue the sayles
With gales of safety to the Neustrian shore.
The ocean, trusted with this pledge, bewailes
That it such wealth must to the earth restore:
Then France receining with a deare imbrace
This northerne starre, though clouded and disguis'd,
Beholds some hidden vertue in his face,
And knowes he is a jewell highly priz'd.

Yet there no pleasing sights can make him stay;
For, like a rider sliding to the maine,

He hastes to find the period of his way,

The plants, which, when he went, were growing
Retaine their former liu'ries to be seene, [greene,
When he reuiewes them: his expected cye
Preseru'd their beauty, ready oft to die.
What tongue, what hand, can to the life display
The glorious joy of this triumphant day?
When England, crown'd with many thousand fires,
Receiues the scope of all her best desires.
She at his sight, as with an earthquake swells,
And strikes the Heau'n with sound of trembling
bells.

The vocall goddesse, leauing desart woods, -
Slides downe the vales, and dancing on the floods,
Obserues our wordes, and with repeating noise
Contends to double our abundant ioyes.
The world's cleare eye is iealous of his name,
He sees this ile like one continuall flame,
And feares lest Earth a brighter starre should breed,
Which might vpon his meate, the vapours, feed.
We maruell not, that in his father's land
So many signes of loue and seruice stand:
Behold, how Spaine retaines in eu'ry place
Some bright reflection of his chearefull face!

And, drawne by loue, drawes all our hearts to Spaine. Madrid, where first his splendour he displayes,

OF THE

PRINCE'S DEPARTURE AND RETURNE.
Wazs Charles from vs withdrawes his glorious
The Sunne desires his absence to supply: [light,
And that we may nothing in darknesse lie,
He strives to free the north from dreadfull night.
Yet we to Phoebus scarce erect our sight,
But all our lookes, our thoughts, to Charles apply,
And in the best delights of life we die,
Till he returne, and make this climate bright.
Now he ascends, and giues Apollo leaue
To drine his horses to the lower part,

We by his presence like content receiue,
As when fresh spirits aide the fainting heart.
Rest here (great Charles) and shine to vs alone,
For other starres are common: Charles our owne.

OF THE

PRINCE'S MOST HAPPY RETURNE.
Ore Charles, whose horses neuer quencht their
In cooling waues of Neptune's watry seate: [heate
Who starry chariot, in the spangled night,
Was still the pleasing obiect of our sight:
This glory of the north hath lately runne
A course as round and certaine as the Sunne :
He to the south inclining balfe the yeere,
Now at our tropike will againe appeare.
He made his setting in the westerne streames,
Where weary Phoebus dips his fading beames:
But in this morning our erected eyes
Become so happy as to see him rise.
We shall not ever in the shadow stay,
His absence was to bring a longer day;
That having felt how darknesse can affright,
We may with more content embrace the light,
And call to mind, how eu'ry soule with paine
Sent forth her throwes to fetch him home againe:
For want of him we wither'd in the spring,
But his returne shall life in winter bring:
VOL VI

And driues away the clouds that dimm'd his rayes,
Her ioyes into a world of formes doth bring,
Yet none contents her, while that potent king,
Who rules so farre, till now could neuer find
His realmes and wealth too little for his mind.
No words of welcome can such planets greete,
Where in one house they by coniunction meete.
Their sacred concord runnes through many signes,
And to the zodiakes better portion shines:
But in the Virgin they are seene most farre,
And in the Lyon's heart the kingly starre.
When toward vs our prince his journey moues,
And feeles attraction of his seruants' loues,
When (hauing open brests of strangers knowne)
He hastes to gather tribute of his owne,
The joyfull neighbours all his passage fill
With noble trophees of his might and skill,
In conqu❜ring men's affections with his darts,
Which deepely fixt in many rauisht hearts,
Are like the starry chaines, whose blazes play
In knots of light along the milkey way.
He heares the newes of his approaching fleet,
And will his nauy see, his seruants greete;
Thence to the land returning in his barge,
The waues leape high, as proud of such a charge;
The night makes speed to see him, and preuents
The slothfull twilight, casting duskie tents
On roring streames, which might all men dismay,
But him, to whose cleare soule the night is day.
The pressing windes, with their officions strife,
Had caus'd a tumult dang'rous to his life.
But their Commander checks them, and restraines
Their hasty feruour in accustom'd chaines :
This perill (which with feare our words decline)
Was then permitted by the hand diuine,
That good euent might prooue his person deare
To Heau'n, and needfull to the people here.
When he resolues to crosse the watry maine,
See what a change his absence makes in Spaine!
The Earth turnes gray for griefe that she conceives.
Birds lose their tongues, and trees forsake their
leaues.

Now floods of teares expresse a sad farewell,
Ambitious sayles as with his greatnesse swell :
To him old Nereus on his dolphin rides,
Presenting bridles to direct the tides:

D

He calles his daughters from their secret caues,
(Their snowy necks are seene aboue the waues)
And saith to them: "Behold the onely sonne
Of that great lord, about whose kingdomes run
Our liquid currents, which are made his owne,
And with moyst bulwarks guard his sacred throne:
See how his lookes delight, his gestures moue
Admire and praise, yet flye from snares of loue:
Not Thetes, with her beauty and her dowre,
Can draw this Peleus to her watry bowre,
He lones a nymph of high and beau'nly race,
The eu'ning Sunne doth homage to her face.
Hesperian orchards yeeld her golden fruit,
He tooke this journey in that sweet pursuit."
When thus their father ends, the Nereids throw
Their garlands on this glorious prince, and strow
His way with songs, in which the hopes appeare
Of joyes too great for humane eares to heare.

VPON THE

ANNIUERSARY DAY OF THE PRINCE'S
RETURNE,

OCTOBER THE FIFTH.

We now admire their doctrine, who maintaine
The world's creation vnder Autumne's reigne,
When trees abound in fruit, grapes swell with iuice,
These meates are ready for the creatures' vse :
Old Time resolues to make a new suruay
Of yeeres and ages from this happy day,
Refusing those accounts which others bring,
He crownes October, as of moneths the king.
No more shall hoary Winter claime the place,
And draw cold proofes from lanus' double face;
Nor shall the Ram, when Spring the Earth adornes,
Vnlocke the gate of Heau'n with golden hornes:
Dry Summer shall not of the Dog-starre boast,
(Of angry constellations honour'd most).
From whose strong heate Egyptians still begun,
To marke the turning circle of the Sunne.
Vertumnus, who hath lordly power to change
The seasons, and can them in order range,
Will from this period fresh beginning take,
Yet not so much for his Pomonae's sake,
Who then is richly drest to please her spouse,
Aud with her orchard's treasure deckes her browes.
It is our Charles, whose euer loued name
Hath made this point of Heau'n increase in fame :

Whose long-thought absence was so much deplor'd,
In whom our hopes and all our fruits are stor❜d.
He now attaines the shore, (O blessed day !).
And true Achates waites along his way,
Our wise Anchises for his sonne prouides
This chosen seruant, as the best of guides.
A prince's glory cannot more depend
Vpon his crowne, than on a faithfull friend.

TO THE

MOST ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE CHARLES,

OF THE EXCELLENT VSE OF POEMS.

DIUINE example of obedient heires,
High in my hopes, and second in my prayers:
Troe image of your father to the life,
Whom Time desir'd, and Fates in iealous strife,

With chearefull voices taught their wheeles to
runne,

That such a father might haue such a sonne;
Since God exalts you on this earthly stage,
And giues you wisedome farre aboue your age,
To iudge of men, and of their actiue pow'rs:
Let me lay downe the fruits of priuate houres
Before your feet; you neuer will refuse
This gift, which beares the title of a Muse.

Among your serious thoughts, with noble care
You cherish poets, knowing that they are
The starres which light to famous actions giue,
By whom the mem'ries of good princes liue :
You are their prince in a peculiar kind,
Because your father hath their art refin'd.
And though these priests of greatnesse quiet sit
Amid'st the silent children of their wit,
Without accesse of sutours, or dispatch
Of high affaires, at which th' ambitious catch;
They are not idle, when their sight they rayse
Beyond the present time to future daies;
And braue examples sage instructions bring
In pleasing verses, which our sonnes may sing,
They oft erect their flight aboue the land,
When graue Vrania ioyning hand in hand
With soft Thalia, mix their diff'rent strings,
And by their musick make celestiall things;
More fit for humane eares, whose winding rounds
Are easly fill'd with well digested sounds.
Pale Enuy and dull Ignorance reproue

This exercise, as onely apt for loue,
Deuis'd t' allure the sense with curious art;
But not t'enrich the vnderstanding part.

So might they say, the Sunne was onely fram'd
To please the eye, and onely therefore nam'd
The eye of Heau'n, conceiuing not his wheele
Of liuely heate, which lower bodies feele.
Our Muses striue, that common-wealths may be
As well from barb'rous deedes as language free:
The seu'rall sounds in harmony combin'd
Knit chaines of vertue in the hearer's mind:
And that he still may haue his teacher by
With measur'd lines, we please his curious eye.
We hold those works of art or nature best,
Where order's steps most fully are exprest:
And therefore all those ciuill men that liue
By law and rule, will to our numbers giue
The name of good, in which perfection rests;
And feele their strokes with sympathyzing brests,
Not oratours so much with flowing words

Can sway the hearts of men, and whet their

swords

Or blunt them at their pleasure, as our straines,
(Whose larger spheare the orbe of prose containes?
Can men's affections lessen or increase,

And guide their passions, whisp'ring warre or peace.
Tyrtæus, by the vigour of his verse,
Made Sparta conquer, while his lines rcherse
Her former glory, almost then subdude
By stronger foes, and when the people rude
Contend among themselues with mutuall wrongs,
He tempers discord with his milder songs:
This poore lame poet hath an equall praise
With captaines and with states-men of his dayes =
The Muses claime possession in those men,
Who first aduentur'd with a nimble pen
To paint their thoughts in new inuented signes,
And spoke of Nature's workes in numbred lines:
This happy art, compar'd with plainer wayes,
Was sooner borne, and not so soone-decayes:

layu'd with a flowry bridge of loue, on which the More dearely, than all other names within her

AT THE

END OF HIS MAIESTIE'S FIRST YEERE.

SONNET FIRST.

Your royall father lames, the good and great,
Proclaim'd in March, when first we felt the spring,
A world of blisse did to our iland bring:
And at his death he made his yeeres compleate,
Although three days he longer held his seate.
Then from that houre when he reioic'd to sing,
Great Britaine torne before, enioyes a king:
Who can the periods of the starres repeate?
The Sunne, wno in his annuall circle takes
A daye's full quadrant from th' ensuing yeere,
Repayes it in foure yeeres, and equall makes
The number of the dayes within his spheare:
Iames was our earthly Sunne, who, call'd to
Heau'n,

Leaues you his heire, to make all fractions eu'n.

SONNET SECOND.

ABOUT the time when dayes are longer made,
When nights are warmer, and the aire more cleare,
When verdant leaues and fragrant flowres appeare;
Whose beauty winter had constrained to fade,
About the time, when Gabriel's words perswade
The blessed Virgin to incline her eare,
And to conceyue that Sonne, whom she shall beare;
Whose death and rising driue away the shade;
About this time, so oft, so highly blest,
By precious gifts of nature and of grace,
First glorious Iames the English crowne possest:
Then gracious Charles succeeded in his place.

For him his subiects wish with hearty words,
Both what this world and what the next affords.

bine

We wish a sonne, whose smile,
Whose beauty, may proclaime him thine,
Who may be worthy of his father's stile,
May answere to our hopes, and strictly may com-
[land's line.
The happy height of Villiers' race with noble Rut-
Let both their heads be crown'd
With choysest flowers, which shall presage
That loue shall flourish, and delights abound,
Time, adde thou many dayes, nay, ages to their
[asswage.

age;

Yet neuer must thy freezing arme their holy fires
Now when they joyne their hands,
Behold, how faire that knot appeares !
may the firmenesse of these nuptiall bands
Resemble that bright line, the measure of the
[ioynes the hemispheres.
Which makes a league betweene the poles, and

yeeres,

OP HIS MAIESTIE'S VOW

FOR THE FELICITY OF MY LORD MAR-
QUESSE OF BUCKINGHAM.
SEE what a full and certaine blessing flowes
From him that, vnder God, the Earth commands:
For kings are types of God, and by their hands
A world of gifts and honours he bestowes.
The hopefull tree, thus blest, securely growes,
[crown'd,
Amidst the waters in a firtile ground;
And shall with leaues, and flowres, and fruites, be
Abundant dew on it the planter throwes.
You are this plant, my lord, and must dispose
Your noble soule, those blossomes to receiue;
Which euer to the roote of vertue cleaue,
As our Apollo by his skill foreshowes:

Our Salomon, in wisedome and in peace,
Is now the prophet of your faire increase.

AN EPITHALAMIUM

TO MY LORD MARQUESSE OF BUCKINGHAM, AND TO
HIS FAIRE AND VERTUOUS LADY1.

SEVERE and serious Muse,

Whose quill the name of loue declines,
Be not too nice, nor this deare worke refuse:

Here Venus stirs no flame, nor Cupid guides thy
lines,
[Lucina shines.
But modest Hymen shakes his torch, and chast
The bridegroome's starres arise,
Maydes, turne your sight, your faces hide :
Lest ye be shipwrack't in those sparkling eyes,
Fit to be seene by none, but by his louely bride:
If him Narcissus should behold, he would forget his
pride.

And thou, faire nymph, appeare
With blushes, like the purple morne;

If now thine eares will be content to heare
The title of a wife, we shortly will adorne

MY LORD OF BUCKINGHAM'S WELCOME
TO THE KING AT BURLEY.
SIR, you haue euer shin'd vpon me bright,
But now, you strike and dazle me with light:
You, England's radiant Sunne, vouchsafe to grace-
My house, a spheare too little and too base:
My Burley as a cabinet containes

The gemme of Europe, which from golden veines
Of glorious princes to this height is growne,
And ioynes their precious vertues all in one :
When I your praise would to the world professe;
My thoughts with zeale and earnest feruour presse
Which should be first, and their officious strife
Restraines my hand from painting you to life.
I write, and hauing written, I destroy,
Because my lines haue bounds, but not my ioy.

Thee with a joyfull mother's name, when some sweet A CONGRATULATION TO MY LORD MAR

child is borne.

QUESSE OF BUCKINGHAM,

AT THE BIRTH OF HIS DAUGHTER.

My lines describ'd your marriage as the spring.
Now, like the reapers, of your fruite I sing,

BEHOLD, the ensignes of a Christian knight,
MY LORD OF BUCKINGHAM'S ARMES:
Whose field is, like his minde, of siluer bright:
His bloudy crosse supports fiue golden shels,
A precious pearle in euery scallop dwels:
Fiue vertues grace the middle and the bounds,
Which take their light from Christ's victorious
wounds:

Vpon the top commanding Prudence shines,
Repressing Temp'rance to the foote declines
Braue Fortitude and Iustice are the hands,
And Charity as in the center stands;
Which binding all the ends with strong effect,
To euery vertue holds the same respect:
May he that beares this shield, at last obtaine
The azure circle of celestiall raigne ;
And hauing past the course of sliding houres,
Enioy a crowne of neuer-fading flow'rs!

MY LORD OF BUCKINGHAM'S SHIELD AT A TILTING,

HIS IMPRESSE BEING A BIRD OF PARADISE.

Aboue the cloudes, aspiring to the light:
SEE how this bird erects his constant flight
As in a quiet paradise he dwels

In that pure region, where no winde rebels:
And fearing not the thunder, hath attain'd
The palace, where the demigods remaind:
This bird belongs to you, thrice glorious king;
From you the beanties of his feathers spring:
No vaine ambition lifts him vp so high,
But, rais'd by force of your attractiue eye,
Not in his owne ascent, but in your sight.
He feedes vpon your beames, and takes delight,
Let them, whose motion to the Earth declines,
Describe your circle by their baser lines,