Of his small hand? Yet not so small
As 'tis powerfull therewithall.

Though bare his skin, his mind he covers,
And like a saucy Bird he hovers

With wanton wing, now here, now there,
'Bout men and women, nor will spare
Till at length he perching rest,

In the closet of their brest.
His weapon is a little Bow,

Yet such a one as (Jove knows how)
Ne're suffred, yet his little Arrow,

Of Heavens high'st Archies to fall narrow.
The Gold that on his Quiver smiles,
Deceives mens feares with flattering wiles.
But ô (too well my wounds can tell)
With bitter shaft's 'tis sauc't too well.
He is all cruell, cruell all;

His Torch Imperious though but small
Makes the Sunne (of flames the fire)
Worse then Sun-burnt in his fire.
Wheresoe're you chance to find him.
Cea[z]e him, bring him, (but first bind him)
Pitty not him, but feare thy selfe

Though thou see the crafty Elfe,

Tell down his Silver-drops unto thee,

They'r counterfeit, and will undoe thee.

With baited smiles if he display

His fawning cheeks, looke not that way.
If he offer sugred kisses,

Start, and say, The Serpent hisses.
Draw him, drag him, though he pray
Wooe, intreat, and crying say

Prethee, sweet now let me go,

Here's my Quiver Shafts and Bow,

I'le give thee all, take all, take heed

Lest his kindnesse make thee bleed.

What e're it be Love offers, still presume

That though it shines, 'tis fire and will consume.

H

On Nanus mounted upon an Ant.

Igh mounted on an Ant Nanus the tall
Was thrown alas, and got a deadly fall.
Under th❜unruly Beasts proud feet he lies

All torne; with much adoe yet e're he dyes,
Hee straines these words; Base Envy, doe, laugh on.
Thus did I fall, and thus fell Phaethon.

Upon Venus putting on Mars his Armes.

W

Hat? Mars his sword? faire Cytherea say,
Why art thou arm'd so desperately to day?

Mars thou hast beaten naked, and ô then

What need'st thou put on arms against poore men?

Upon the same.

Allas saw Venus arm'd, and streight she cry'd,

Come if thou dar'st, thus, thus let us be try'd. Why foole! saies Venus, thus provok'st thou mee, That being nak't, thou know'st could conquer thee?

In Se[ren]issimæ Reginæ pa[rt]um hyemalem.

Erta, puer, (quis nunc flores non præbeat hortus?)
Texe mihi facili pollice serta, puer.

Quid tu nescio quos narras mihi, stulte, Decembres ?
Quid mihi cum nivibus? da mihi serta, puer.
Nix? & hyems? non est nostras quid tale per oras;
Non est vel si sit, non tamen esse potest.
Ver agitur: quæcunque trucem dat larva Decembrem,
Quid fera cung fremant frigora, ver agitur.
Nonne vides quali se palmite regia vitis

Prodit,& in sacris quæ sedet uva jugis?
Tam lætis quæ bruma solet ridere racemis?
Quas hyemis pingit purpura tanta genas?
O Maria! O divum soboles, genitrixque Deorum!
Siccine nostra tuus tempora ludus erunt?
Siccine tu cum vere tuo nihil horrida brumæ
Sydera, nil madidos sola morare notos?
Siccine sub mediâ poterunt tua surgere brumâ,
Atque suas solùm lilia nôsse nives?
Ergò vel invitis nivibus, frendentibus Austris,
Nostra novis poterunt regna tumere rosis?
O bona turbatrix anni, quæ limite noto
Tempora sub signis non sinis ire suis!
O pia prædatrix hyemis, quæ tristia mundi
Murmura tam dulci sub ditione tenes!
Perge precor nostris vim pulchram ferre Calendis:
Perge precor menses sic numerare tuos.
Perge intempestiva atg importuna videri;
Ing uteri titulos sic rape cuncta tui.
Sit nobis, sit sæpe hyemes sic cernere nostras
Exhæredatas floribus ire tuis.

Sæpe sit has vernas hyemes Maios Decembres,
Has per te roseas sæpe videre nives.
Altera gens varium per sydera computet annum,
Atg suos ducant per vaga signa dies.
Nos deceat nimiis tantum permittere nimbis?
Tempora tam tetricas ferre Britanna vices?
Quin nostrum tibi nos omnem donabimus annum:
In partus omnem expende, Maria, tuos.

Sit tuus ille uterus nostri bonus arbiter anni:
Tempus in titulos transeat omne tuos.
Nam quæ alia indueret tam dulcia nomina mensis?
Aut qua tam posset candidus ire togâ?
Hanc laurum Janus sibi vertice vellet utroģ,
Hanc sibi vel tota Chloride Maius emet.
Tota suam (vere expulso) respublica florum
Reginam cuperent te, sobolémve tuam.
O bona sors anni, cùm cuncti ex ordine menses
Hic mihi Carolides, hic Marianus erit!

Epitaphium in Dominum Herrisium.

ST

Iste te paulum (viator) ubi longum sisti Necesse erit, huc tempe properare te scias quocunque properas.

More pretium erit
Et Lacrime,

Si jacere hic scias

Gulielmum

Sub verna fronte senilis animus,

Sub morum [facilitate, [s]everitas virtutis;
Sub plurima indole, pauci anni;

Sub majore modestia, maxima indoles.

adeo se occuluerunt

ut vitam ejus

Pulchram dixeris & pudicam dissimulationem: Imo vero & morte,

Ecce enim in ipso funere

Dissimulari se passus est,

Sub tantillo marmore tantum hospitem,

Eo nimerum majore monumento

quo minore tumulo.

Eo ipso die occubuit quo Ecclesia

Anglica nec ad vesperas legit,

Raptus est ne militia mutaret Intellectum ejus ; Scilicet. Id. Octobris, Anno. Sal. 1631.