Till at length he perching rest,
In the closet of their breast.
His weapon is a little bow,

Yet such a one as (Jove knows how)
Ne'er suffer'd yet his little arrow
Of heaven's high'st arches to fall narrow.
The gold that on his quiver smiles,
Deceives men's fears with flatt'ring wiles:
But oh! (too well my wounds can tell)
With bitter shafts 'tis sauced too well;
He is all cruel, cruel all;

His torch imperious, though but small,
Makes the sun (of flames the sire)
Worse then sun-burnt in his fire.
Wheresoe'er you chance to find him,
Seize him, bring him (but first bind him),
Pity not him, but fear thyself;

Though thou see the crafty elf
Tell down his silver drops unto thee,
They're counterfeit, and will undo thee;
With baited smiles if he display

His fawning cheeks, look not that way;
If he offer sugar'd kisses,

Start, and say, the serpent hisses;
Draw him, drag him, though he pray,
Woo, entreat, and crying say,

Prithee, sweet, now let me go,

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50

60

Here's my quiver, shafts and bow,
I'll give thee all, take all-take heed

70

Lest his kindness make thee bleed.

Whate'er it be Love offers, still presume

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

ON NANUS MOUNTED UPON AN ANT.

HIGH mounted on an ant, Nanus the tall
Was thrown, alas! and got a deadly fall:
Under th' unruly beast's proud feet he lies,
All torn; with much ado yet ere he dies,

He strains these words; Base Envy, do, laugh on,
Thus did I fall, and thus fell Phaethon.'

UPON VENUS PUTTING ON MARS HIS ARMS.

WHAT? Mars his sword? fair Cytherea say,
Why art thou arm'd so desp'rately to-day?
Mars thou hast beaten naked, and, oh then,
What need'st thou put on arms against poor men?

UPON THE SAME.

PALLAS saw Venus arm'd, and straight she cried, 'Come if thou dar'st, thus, thus let us be tried.'

6

Why, fool!' says Venus, thus provok'st thou me, That being nak'd, thou know'st could conquer thee?'

UPON BISHOP ANDREWS HIS PICTURE
BEFORE HIS SERMONS.

THIS rev'rend shadow cast that setting sun,
Whose glorious course through our horizon run,
Left the dim face of this dull hemisphere
All one great eye, all drown'd in one great tear;
Whose fair illustrious soul led his free thought
Through learning's universe, and (vainly) sought

Room for her spacious self, until at length
She found the way home with an holy strength,
Snatch'd herself hence to heaven; fill'd a bright place
'Mongst those immortal fires, and on the face

Of her great Maker fix'd her flaming eye,
There still to read true, pure divinity.

And now that grave aspect hath deign'd to shrink
Into this less appearance;
if you

think

"Tis but a dead face Art doth here bequeath,

Look on the following leaves, and see him breathe.

OUT OF MARTIAL.

FOUR teeth thou hadst that, rank'd in goodly state,
Kept thy mouth's gate.

The first blast of thy cough left two alone,

The second, none:

This last cough, Ælia, cough'd out all thy fear,
Th' hast left the third cough now no business here.

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3

4

5

6

In free air

Flow thy hair;

That no more summer's best dresses

Be beholden

For their golden

Locks to Phoebus' flaming tresses.

O deliver

Love his quiver,

From thy eyes he shoots his arrows,
Where Apollo

Cannot follow,

Feather'd with his mother's sparrows.

O envy not

(That we die not)

Those dear lips, whose door encloses

All the graces

In their places;

Brother pearls, and sister roses,

From these treasures

Of ripe pleasures

One bright smile to clear the weather.

Earth and heaven

Thus made even,

Both will be good friends together.

The air does woo thee,

Winds cling to thee;

Might a word once fly from out thee,

Storm and thunder

Would sit under,

And keep silence round about thee.

1 Love now no fire hath left him,

We two betwixt us have divided it:
Your eyes the light hath reft him;

The heat commanding in my heart doth sit.
Oh! that poor Love be not for ever spoil'd,
Let my heat to your light be reconciled.

2 So shall these flames, whose worth
Now all obscured lies,

(Dress'd in those beams) start forth And dance before your eyes.