The First Week: The Third Day

THE ARGUMENT.

The Sea, and Earth: their various Equipage:
Seuer'd a-part: Bounds of the Oceansrage:
'Timbraceth Earth: it doth all Watersowe:
Why it is salt: How it doth Ebb, and Flowe:
Rare streams, and Fountains of strange operation:
Earth's firmnes, greatnes, goodnes: sharp taxation
Of Bribes, Ambition, Treason, Auarice.
Trees, Shrubs, & Plants: Mines, Metals, Gemms of price:
Right vse of Gold: the Load-stones rare effects:
The Countrey-life preferr'd in all respects.

MY sacred Muse, that lately soared high
Among the glist'ring Circles of the Sky
(Whose various dance, which the first Moover driues
Harmoniously, this Vniverse revives)
Commanding all the Windes and sulphry Storms,
The lightning Flashes, and the hideous Forms
Seen in the Aire; with language meetly brave
Whilom discourst vpon a Theam so grave.
But, This-Day, flagging lowely by the Ground,
She seems constrain'd to keep a lowely •ound;
Or, if somtimes, she somwhat raise her voice,
The sound is drown'd with the rough Oceans noise.
O King of grassie and of glassie Plains,
Whose powrfull breath (at thy drad will) constrains
The deep Foundations of the Hills to shake,
And Seas salt billows 'gainst Heav'ns vaults to rake:
Grant me, To-Day, with skilfull Instruments
To bound a right these two rich Elements:
In learned numbers teach me sing the natures
Of the firm-Earth, and of the floating Waters:
And with a flowring stile the Flowrs to limn
Whose Colours now shall paint the Fields so trim.

All those steep Mountains, whose high horned tops
The misty cloak of wandring Clouds enwraps,
Vnder First Waters their crump shoulders hid,
And all the Earth as a dull Pond abid,
Vntill th' All-Monarch's bountious Maiesty
(Willing t'enfeof man this worlds Empery)
Commaunded Neptune straight to Marshall forth
His Floods a-part; and to vnfold the Earth:
And, in his Waters, now contented rest,
Thaue all the World, for one whole day, possest.

As when the muffled Heav'ns have wept a main,
And foaming streams assembling on the Plain,
Turn'd Fields to Floods; soon as the showrs do cease,
With vnseen speed the Deluge doth decrease,
Sups vp it self, in hollow sponges sinks,
And's ample arms in straighter Chanell shrinks:
Even so the Sea, to 'tself it self he took,
Mount after Mount, Field after Field forsook;
And sodainly in smaller cask did tun
Her Waters, that from every side did run:
Whether th' imperfect Light did first exhale
Much of that primer Humour, where withall
God, on the Second-Day, might frame and found
The Crystall Sphears that he hath spred so round:
Whether th' Almighty did new place provide
To lodge the Waters: whether op'ning wide
Th' Earth's Hollow Pores, it pleas'd him to conueigh
Deep vnder ground som Arms of such a Sea:
Or whether, pressing waters gloomy Globe,
That cov'red all (as with a cloudy Robe)
He them impris'ned in those bounds of brass,
Which (to this day) the Ocean dares not pass
Without his licence. For, th' Eternall, knowing
The Seas commotive and inconstant flowing,
Thus curbed her; and, 'gainst her enuious rage,
For-ever fenç't ou• Flowry-mantled Stage:
So that we often see those rowling Hils,
With roaring noise threatning the neighbour Fields,
Through their owne spite to split vpon the shore,
Foaming for fury that they dare no more.

For, what could not. that great, high Admirall
Work in the Waues, sith at his Seruants call,
His dreadfull voice (to save his ancient Sheep)
Did cleave the bottom of th' Erythrean Deepe?
And toward the Crystall of his double source
Compelled Iordan to retreat his course?
Drown'd with a Deluge the rebellious World?
And from dry Rocks abundant Rivers purl'd?

Lo, thus the waighty Water did yer-while
With winding turns make all this world an Ile.
For, like as molten Lead being poured forth
Vpon a leuell plot of sand or earth,
In many fashions mazeth to and fro;
Runs heer direct, thear crookedly doth go,
Heer doth diuide it self, there meets again;
And the hot Riv'let of the liquid vain,
On the smooth table crawling like a worm,
Almost (in th' instant) euery form doth form:
God pour'd the Waters on the fruitfull Ground
In sundry figures; somin fashion round,
Some square, som crosse, som long, som lozenge-wise,
Som triangles, som large, som lesser size;
Amid the Floods (by this fair difference)
To giue the world more wealth and excellence.
Such is the German Sea, such Persian Sine,
Such th' Indian Gulf, and such th' Arabian Brine,
And such Our Sea: whose divers-brancht retortions,
Divide the World in three vnequall Portions.

And, though each of these Arms (how large soever)
To the great Ocean seems a little Riuer:
Each makes a hundred sundry Seas besides
(Not sundry in waters, but in Names and Tides)
To moisten kindely, by their secret Vains,
The thirsty thickness of the neighbour Plains:
To bulwark Nations, and to serue for fences
Against the inuasion of Ambitious Princes:
To bound large Kingdomes with eternall limits:
To further Traffick through all Earthly Climates:
T'abbridge long Iourneys; and with ayd of Winde
Within a month to visit eyther Inde.

But, th' Earth not only th' Oceans debter is
For these large Seas: But sh' owes him Tanāis,
Nile (Aegypts treasure) and his neighbour stream
That in the Desart (through his haste extream)
Loseth himself so oft; swift Euphrates;
And th' other proud Son of cold Niphates:
Fair spacious Ganges, and his famous brother,
That lends his name vnto their noble Mother:
Gold-sanded Tagus, Rhyne, Rhóne, Volga, Tiber,
Danubius, Albis, Pô, Sein, Arne, and Iber;
The Darian, Plate, and Amazónian River,
(Where SPAIN'S Gold-thirsty Locusts cool their liver):
Our siluer Medway, (which doth deep indent
The Flowrie Medowes of My natiue KENT;
Still sadly weeping (vnder Pensherst walls)
Th' Arcadian Cygnet's bleeding Funerals)
Our Thames and Tweed, our Severn, Trent, and Humber,
And many moe, too infinite to number.

Of him, she also holds her Silver Springs,
And all her hidden Crystall Riverlings:
And after (greatly) in two sorts repaies
Th' Humour she borrows by two sundry waies:
For, like as in a Limbeck, th' heat of Fire
Raiseth a Vapour, which still mounting higher
To the Still's top; when th' odoriferous sweat
Above that Miter can no further get,
It softly thickning, falleth drop by drop,
And Cleer as Chrystall, in the glass doth drop;
The purest humour in the Sea, the Sun
Exhales in th' Aire: which thear resolv'd, anon,
Returns to water; and descends again
By sundry waies vnto his Mother Main.

For, the dry Earth, having these waters (first)
Through the wide sive of her void entrails searst;
Giving more room, at length from Rockie Mountains:
She (night and day) pours forth a thousand Fountains:
These Fountains make fresh Brooks (with murmuring currents
These murmuring Brooks, the swift & violēt Torrents;
These violent Torrents, mighty Rivers; These,
These Riuers make the vast, deep, dreadfull Seas.

And all the highest Heav'n-approaching Rocks
Contribute hither with their snowie locks:
For, soon as Titan, having run his Ring,
To th' ycie climates bringeth back the Spring;
On their rough backs he melts the hoary heaps,
Their tops grow green; and down the water leaps
On every side, it foames, it roares, it rushes,
And through the steep and stony hilles it gushes,
Making a thousand Brooks; wherof, when one
Perceives his fellow striving to be gone;
Hasting his course, he him accompanies;
After, another and another hies,
All in one race; ioynt-losing all of them
Their Names and Waters in a greater stream:
And He that robs them, shortly doth deliver
Himself and his into a larger River:
And That, at length, how euer great and large
(Lord of the Plain) doth in som Gulf discharge
His parent-Tribute to Oceanus,
According to th' Eternall Rendez-vous.
Yet, notwithstanding, all these Streams that enter
In the Main Sea, do nought at all augment her:
For that, besides that all these Floods in one,
Matcht with great Neptune, seem as much as none;
The Sun (as yerst I said) and Windes withall,
Sweeping the sur-face of the Brinie-Ball,
Extract as much still of her humours thin,
As weeping Aire and welling Earth pours in.

But as the swelting heat, and shivering cold,
Gnashing and sweat, that th' Ague-sick do hold,
Come not at hazzard, but in time and order
Afflict the body with their fell disorder:
The Sea hath fits, alternate course she keepes,
From Deep to Shoar, and from the Shoar to Deeps.
Whether it were, that at the first, the Ocean
From Gods owne hand receiv'd this double Motion,
By means whereof, it never resteth stound,
But (as a turning Whirli-gig) goes round,
Whirls of it self, and good-while after takes
Strength of the strength which the first motion makes:
Whether the Sea, which we Atlantick call,
Be but a peece of the Grand Sea of all;
And that his Floods entring the ample Bed
Of the deep Main (with fury hurried
Against the Rocks) repulsed with disdain,
Be thence compelled to turn back again:
Or whether Cynthia, that with Change-full laws
Commands moist bodies, doth this motion cause:
As, on our Shoar, we see the Sea to rise
Soon as the Moon begins to mount our skies.
And when, through Heav'ns Vaultvailing toward Spayn,
The Moon descendeth, then it Ebbs again.
Again, so soon as her inconstant Crown
Begins to shine on th' other Horizon,
It Flowes again: and then again it falls
When she doth light th' other Meridionalls.

We see more-over, that th' Atlantik Seas
Doo Flowe far farther then the Genöese,
Or both the Bosphores; and that Lakes, which growe
Out of the Sea, do neither Ebb nor Flowe:
Because (they say) the siluer fronted Star,
That swells and shrinks the Seas (as pleaseth her)
Pours with less powr her plentious influence
Vpon these straight and narrow streamed Fennes,
And In-land Seas, which many a Mount immounds,
Then on an Ocean vast and void of bounds:
Euen as in Sommer, her great Brothers Ey,
When windes be silent, doth more easily dry
Wide spreading Plains, open and spacious Fields,
Then narrow Vales vaulted about with Hills.

If we perceive not in the Deep, so well
As by the shoar, when it doth shrink and swell;
Our sprightfull Pulse the tide doth well resemble,
Whose out-side seems more then the midst to tremble.

Nor is the glorious Prince of Stars less mighty
Then his pale Sister, on vast Amphitrité.
For Phoebus, boyling with his lightsom Heat
The Fish-full Waves of Neptunes Royall Seat,
And supping vp still (with his thirsty Rayes)
All the fresh humour in the floting Seas,
In Thetis large Cells leaveth nought behind,
Save liqvid Salt, and a thick bitter Brine.

But see (the while) see how the Sea (I pray)
Through thousand Seas hath caried me away,
In fear t' have drown'd my self and Readers so,
The Floods so made my words to over-flowe.
Therfore a-shoar; and on the tender Lee
Of Lakes, and Pools, Rivers, and Springs, let's see
The soverain vertues of their severall Waters,
Their strange effects, and admirable natures,
That with incredible rare force of theirs,
Confound our wits, ravish our eyes and ears.

Th' Hammon•an Fount, while Phoebus Torch is light,
Is cold as Ice; and (opposite) all night
(Though the cold Crescent shine thereon) is hot,
And boiles and bubbles like a seething Pot.

They say (forsooth) the Riuer Silarus,
And such another, call'd Eurimenus,
Conuert the boughs, the barke, the leaves, and all,
To very stone, that in their Waters fall.

O! should I blaunch the Iewes religious River,
Which every Saboth dries his Chanell over;
Keeping his Waues from working on that Day
Which God ordain'd a sacred Rest for ay?

If neer vnto the Eleusinian Spring,
Som sport-full Iig, som wanton Shepheard sing,
The Ravisht Fountain falls to daunce and bound,
Keeping true Cadence to his rustick sound.
Cerona, Xanth. and Cephisus, do make
The thirsty-Flocks that of their Waters take,
Blacke, red, and white. And neer the crimsin Deepe,
Th' Arabian Fountain maketh crimsin Sheep.

Solonian Fountain, and thou Andrian Spring,
Out of what Cellars do you daily bring
The Oyl and Wine that you abound-with, so?
O Earth! do these within thine entrails grow?
What? be there Vines and Orchards vnder ground?
Is Bacchus Trade and Pallas Art there found?

What should I, of th' Illyrian Fountain, tell?
What shall I say of the Dodónean Well?
Whereof, the first sets any cloathes on-fire;
Th' other doth quench (who but will this admire?)
A burning Torch; and when the same is quenched,
Lights it again, if it again be drenched.
Sure, in the Legend of absurdest Fables
I should enroule most of these admirables;
Save for the reverence of th' vnstayned credit
Of many a witnes where I yerst have read it:
And sauing that our gain-spurr'd Pilots finde,
In our dayes, Waters of more wondrous kinde.

Of all the Sources infinite to count,
Which to an ample Volume would amount,
Far hence on Forrain vnfrequented Coast,
I'le onely chuse som five or sixe at most,
Strange to report, perhaps beleev'd of few;
And yet no more incredible then true.

In th' Ile of Iron (one of those same seav'n
Whereto our Elders Happy name had giv'n)
The Savage people neuer drink the streams
Of Wells and Riuers (as in other Realms)
Their drink is in the Aire; their gushing spring
A weeping Tree out of it self doth wring:
A Tree, whose tender-bearded Root being spred
In dryest sand, his sweating Leaf doth shed
A most sweet liquor; and (like as the Vine
Vntimely cut, weeps (at her wound) her wine,
In pearled tears) incessantly distills
A Crystall stream, which all their Cisterns fills,
Through all the Iland: for all hither hy,
And all their vessels cannot draw it dry.

In frosty Island are two Fountains strange:
Th' one flowes with Wax: the other stream doth change
All into Iron; yet with scalding steam
In thousand bubbles belcheth vp her stream.

In golden Perû, necre Saint Helens Mount
A stream of Pitch comes from a springing Fount.

What more remains? That New-found World, besides,
Toward the West many a fair River guides;
Whose floating Waters (knowing th' vse aright
Of Work-fit Day, and Rest-ordained Night,
Better then men) run swiftly, all the Day;
But rest, all Night, and stir not any way.

Great Enginer, Almighty Architect,
I fear, of Enuy I should be suspect,
Enuy of thy Renown and and sacred glory,
If my ingratefull Rimes should blaunch the Story
Of Streams, distilling through the Sulphur-Mines,
Through Bitumen. Allom, and Nitre veins;
Which (perfect Leaches) with their vertaes cure
A thousand Greefs we mortals heere endure,
Old in th' April of our age therewith,
Whose rigour striues to ante-date our death.

Now, as my happy Gascony excells,
In Corne, Wine, Warriours, every Country els;
So doth she also in free Bathes abound;
Where strangers flock from every part around.
The barren womb, the Palsie-shaken wight,
Th' vlcerous, gowtie, deaf, and decrepit,
From East and West arriving, fetch from hence
Their ready help with small or no expence.
Witnes Ancossa, Caud'rets, Aiguescald,
Barege, Baigners; Baigners, the pride of all,
The pride, the praise, the onely Paradise
Of all those Mountains mounting to the skies,
Where yerst the Gaulian Hercules begot
(Wanton Alomena's Bastard, meane I not)
On faire Pirén• (as the fame doth go)
The famous Father of the Gascons; who
By noble deeds, do worthily averr
Their true descent from such an Ancester.
On th' one side, Hils hoar'd with eternal Snowes,
And craggy Rocks Baigneres do inclose.
The other side is sweetly compast-in
With fragrant skirts of an immortall Green,
Whose smiling beauties far excell, in all,
The famous praise of the Peneīan Vale:
There's not a House, but seemeth to be new;
Th' even-slated Roofs reflect with glistring blew:
To keep the Pavement ever cleane and sweet,
A Crystall River runs through every Street;
Whose Siluer stream, as cold as Ice, doth slide
But little off the Physick Waters side;
Yet keeps his nature, and disdaines, a iot
To intermix his cold with th' others hot.

But, all these Wonders that adorn my Verse,
Yet come not neer vnto the wondrous Lers:
If it be true, that the Stagyrian Sage
(With shame confus'd, and driv'n with desperate rage)
Because his Reason could not reach the knowing
Of Euripus his seav'n-fold Ebbing-flowing,
Leapt in the same, and there his life did end,
Compriz'd in that he could not comprehend.

What had he done, had he beheld the Fountain,
Which springs at Belstat neere the famous Mountain
Of Foix; whose Floods bathing Masérian Plains,
Furnish with wood the wealthy Tholousains?
As oftas Phoebus (in a compleat Race)
On both th' Horizons shews his radiant Face,
This wondrous Brook) for foure whole months) doth flowe,
Foure-times-six-times, and Ebbs as oft as lowe
For half an houre may dry-shod past that list:
The next half houre, may none his course resist.
Whose foaming stream striues proudly to compare
(Euen in the birth) with Fame-fullst Floods that are.
O! learned (Nature-taught) Arithmetician!
Clock-less, so iust to measure Time's partition.

And little LAMBS-BOVRN, though thou match not Lers,
Nor hadst the Honor of DU BARTAS Verse;
If mine haue any, Thou must needs partake,
Both for thine Owne, and for thine Owners sake;
Whose kinde Excesses Thee so neerely touch,
That Yeerely for them Thou doost weep so much,
All Summer-long (while all thy Sisters shrink.)
That of thy teares a million dayly drink;
Besides thy Waast, which then in haste dothrun
To wash the feet of CHAVCER's Donnington:
But (while the rest are full vnto the top)
All Winter-long, Thou never show'st a drop,
Nor send'st a dois of need-less Subsidie,
To Cramm the Kennet's Want-less Treasurie,
Before her Store be spent, & Springs be staid:
Then, then, alone Thou lendst a liberall Ayd;
Teaching Thy wealthy Neighbours (Mine, of late)
How, When, and Where to right-participate
Their streams of Comfort, to the poore that pine,
And not to greaz still the too-greazy Swine:
Neither, for fame, nor forme (when others doo)
To giue a Morsel, or a Mite or two;
But seuerally, and of a selfly motion,
When others miss, to giue the most devotion.

Most wisely did th' eternall All-Creator,
Dispose these Elements of Earth and Water:
For, sith th' one could not without drink subsist,
Nor, th' other without stay, bottom and list,
God intermixt them so, that th' Earth her brest
Op'ning to th' Ocean, th' Ocean winding prest
About the Earth, a-thwart, and vnder it,
For the Worlds Center, both together fit.
For, if their mixt Globe held not certainly
Iust the iust midst of the Worlds Axle-tree,
All Climats then should not be serv'd a-right
With equall Counter poiz of day and night:
The Horizons il-leuell'd circle wide,
Would sag too-much on th' one or th' other side:
Th' Antipodes, or we, at once should take
View of more Signes then half the Zodiack:
The Moon's Eclipses would not then be certain,
And setled Seasons would be then vncertain.

This also serueth for probation sound,
That th' Earths and Waters mingled Mass is Round,
Round as a Ball; seeing on euery side
The Day and Night successiuely to slide.
Yea, though Vespucio (famous Florentine)
Mark Pole, and Columb, braue Italian Trine,
Our (Spain's Dread) Drake, Candish, and Cumberland
Most valiant Earle, most worthy High Command,
And thousand gallant modern Typheis else,
Had neuer brought the North-Poles Parallels.
Vnder the South; and, sayling still about,
So many Nex-worlds vnder vs found out.
Nay, neuer could they th' Artik Pole haue lost,
Nor found th' Antartik; if in euery Coast
Seas liquid Glass round-bow'd not euery-where,
With sister Earth, to make a perfect Sphear.

But, perfect Artist, with what Arches strong,
Props, staies, and Pillars, hast thou stay'd so long
This hanging, thin, sad, slippery Water-Ball.
From falling out, and ouer-whelming all?
May it not be (good Lord) because the Water
To the Worlds Center tendeth still by nature;
And toward the bottom of this bottom bound,
Willing to fall, doth yet remain still round?
Or may't not be, because the surly Banks
Keep Waters captiue in their hollow flanks?
Or that our Seas be buttrest (as it were)
With thousand Rocks dispersed heere and there?
Or rather, Lord, is't not Thine onely Powr
That Bows it round about Earths branchy Bowr?

Doubt-less (great God) 'tis doubt-less thine owne hand
Whereon this Mansion of Mankinde doth stand.
For, thogh it hang in th' Aire, swim in the water,
Though every way it be a round Theater,
Though All turn round about it, though for ay
Itselfs Fundations with swist Motions play.
It rests vn-mooueable: that th' Holy Race
Of Adam there may finde fit dwelling place.

The Earth receiues man when he first is born,
Th' Earth nurses him; and when he is forlorn
Of th' other Elements, and Nature loaths-him,
Th' Earth in her bosom with kinde burial cloaths-him.
Oft hath the Aire with Tempests set-vpon-vs,
Oft hath the Water with her Floods vndon-vs,
Oft hath the Fire (th' vpper as well as ours)
With wofull flames consum'd our Towns and Towrs:
Onely the Earth, of all the Elements,
Vnto Mankinde is kinde without offence:
Onely the Earth did neuer iot displace
From the first seat assign'd it by thy grace.

Yet, true it is, (good Lord) that mov'd somtimes
With wicked Peoples execrablecrimes,
The wrathfull power of thy right hand doth make,
Not all the Earth, but part of it to quake,
With ayd of Windes: which (as imprisoned deep)
In her vast entrails, furious murmurs keep.
Fear chils our hearts (what hart can fear dissemble?)
When Steeples stagger, and huge Mountains tremble
With wind-less winde, and yawning Hell devours
Somtimes whole Cities with their shining Towrs.

Sith then, the Earth's, and Waters blended Ball
Is center, heart, and nauel of this All;
And sith (in reason) that which is included,
Must needs beless then that which doth include it;
'Tis question-less, the Orb of Earth and Water
Is the least Orb in all the All-Theater.

Let any iudge, whether this lower Ball
(Whose endless greatnes we admire so, all)
Seem not a point, compar'd with th' vpper Sphear
Whose turning turns the rest in their Career;
Sith the least Star that we perceiue to shine
Aboue, disperst in th' Arches crystalline
(If, at the least, Star-Clarkes be credit worth)
Is eighteen times bigger then all the Earth:
Whence, if we but substract what is possest
(From North to South, & from the East to West)
Vnder the Empire of the Ocean
Atlantike, Indian, and American;
And thousand huge Arms issuing out of these,
With infinites of other Lakes and Seas:
And also what the Two intemperate Zones
Doo make vnfit for habitations;
What will remaine? Ah! nothing (in respect):
Lo heer, O men! Lo wherefore you neglect
Heav'ns glorious Kingdom: Lo the largest scope
Glory can giue to your ambitious hope.

O Princes (subiects vnto pride and pleasure)
Who (to enlarge, but a hair's breadth, the measure
Of your Dominions) breaking Oaths of Peace,
Couer the Fields with bloudy Carcases:
O Magistrates, who (to content the Great)
Make sale of Iustice, on your sacred Seat;
And, broaking Laws for Bribes, profane your Place,
To leaue a Leek to your vnthankfull Race:
You strict Extorters, that the Poor oppress,
And wrong the Widdow and the Father-less,
To leaue your Off-spring rich (of others good)
In Houses built of Rapine and of Blood:
You City-Vipers, that (incestuous) ioyn
Vse vpon vse, begetting Coyn of Coyn:
You Marchant Mercers, and Monopolites,
Gain-greedy Chap-men, periur'd Hypocrites,
Dissembling Broakers, made of all deceipts,
Who falsifie your Measures and your Weights,
T' inrich your selues, and your vnthrifty Sons
To Gentillize with proud possessions:
You that for gain betray your gracious Prince,
Your natiue Country, or your deerest Friends:
You, that to get you but an inch of ground,
With cursed hands remoue your Neigbours bound
(The ancient bounds your Ancestors haue set)
What gain you all? alas! what do you get?
Yea, though a King by wile or war had won
All the round Earth to his subiection;
Lo heer the Guerdon of his glorious pains:
A needles point, a Mote, a Mite, he gains,
A Nit, a Nothing (did he All possess);
Or, if then nothing anything beless.

When God, whose words more in a moment can,
Then in an Age the proudest strength of Man,
Had seuered the Floods, leuell'd the Fields,
Embas't the Valleys, and embost the Hils;
Change, change (quoth he) O fair and firmest Globe,
Thy moutning weed, to a green gallant Robe;
Cheer thy sad brows, and stately garnish them,
With a rich, fragrant, flowry Diadem;
Lay forth thy locks, and paint thee (Lady-like)
With freshest colours on thy sallow cheek.
And let from hence-forth thy aboundant brests
Not only Nursethine own Wombs natiue guests,
But frankly furnish with fit nourishments
The future folk of th' other Elements;
That Aire, and Water, and the Angels Court,
May all seem iealous of thy praise and port.

No sooner spoken, but the lofty Pine
Distilling-pitch, the Larch yeeld-Turpentine,
Th' euer-green Box, and gummy Cedar sprout,
And th' Airy Mountaines mantle round about:
The Mast-full Oke, the vse-full Ash, the Holm,
Coat changing Cork, white Maple, shady Elm,
Through Hill and Plain ranged their plumed Ranks.
The winding Riuers bordered all their banks
With slice-Sea Alders, and green Osiars smal,
With trembling Poplars, and with Willows pase,
And many Trees beside, fit to be made
Fewell, or Timber, or to serue for Shade.

The dainty Apricock (of Plums the Prince)
The veluet Peach, gilt Orenge, downy Quince,
All-ready bear grav'n in their tender barks,
Gods powerfull prouidence in open marks.
The sent-sweet Apple, and a stringent Pear,
The Cherry, Filberd, Wal-nut, Meddeler,
The milky Fig, the Damson black and white,
The Date, and Olyue, ayding appetite,
Spread euery-where a most delightfull Spring,
And euery-where a very Eden bring.

Heer, the fine Pepper, as in clusters hung,
There Cinamon and other Spices sprung.
Heer, dangled Nutmegs, that for thrifty pains
Yearly repay the Bandans wondrous gains;
There growes (th' Hesperian Plant) the precious Reed
Whence Sugar sirrops in aboundance bleed;
There weeps the Balm, and famous Trees from whence
Th' Arabians fetch perfuming Frankincense.

There, th' amorous Uine coll's in a thousand sorts
(With winding arms) her Spouse that her supports:
The Vine, as far inferiour to the rest,
In beauty, as in bounty past the best:
Whose sacred liquor, temperately taen,
Reviues the spirits and purifies the brain,
Cheers the sad heart, increaseth kindly heat,
Purgeth gross blood, and doth the pure beget,
Strengthens the stomack, and the colour mends,
Sharpens the wit, and doth the bladder cleanse,
Opens obstructions, excrements expels,
And easeth vs of many Languors els.

And though through Sin (wherby from Heav'nly state
Our Parents barr'd vs) th' Earth degenerate
From her first beauty, bearing still vpon her
Eternall Scars of her fond Lords dishonour:
Though with the Worlds age, her weak age decay,
Though she becom less fruitfull every day
(Much like a Woman with oft teeming worn;
Who with the Babes of her owne body born,
Having almost stor'd a whole Town with people,
At length becomes barren, and faint, and feeble)
Yet doth she yeeld matter enough to sing
And praise the Maker of so rich a Thing.

Neuer mine eies in pleasant Spring behold
The azure Flax, the gilden Marigold,
The Violet's purple, the sweet Rose's stammell,
The Lillie's snowe, and Pansey's various ammell;
But that (in them) the Painter I admire,
Who in more Colours doth the Fields attire,
Then fresh Aurora's rosie cheeks display,
When in the East she Vshers a fair Day:
Or Iris Bowe, which bended in the Sky
Boades fruitfull deaws when as the Fields be dry.

Heer (deer S. BARTAS) giue thy Seruant leaue.
In thy rich Garland one rare Flowr to weaue,
Whose wondrons nature had more worthy been
Of thy diuine, immortalizing Pen:
But, from thy sight, when SEIN did swell with Bloud,
It sunk (perhaps) vnder the Crimsin Flood
(When Beldam, Medices, Valois, and Guise
Stain'd Hymens Roab with Heathen cruelties)
Because the Sun, to shun so vile a view,
His Chamber kept; and wept with Bartholmew.

For so, so soon as in the Western Seas.
Apollo sinks, in siluer Euphrates
The Lotos diues, deeper and deeper ay
Till mid-night: then, remounteth toward Day:
But not aboue the Water, till the Sun
Doo r•-ascend aboue the Horizon.
So euer-true to Titans radiant Flame,
That (Rise he, Fall he) it is Still the same.

A Real Emblem of her Royal Honour
That worthily did take that Word vpon-her;
Sacred ELIZA, that ensu'd no less
Th' etenall Sun of Peace and Righteousnes;
Whose liuely lamp (what euer did betide-her)
In either Fortune was her onely Guider.
For, in her Fathers and her Brothers Daies,
Fair rose this Rose with Truth's new-springing raies:
And when again the Gospels glorious Light
Set in her Sisters superstitious Night;
She sunk withall vnder afflictions streams
(As sinks my Lotos with Sols setting beams):
But, after Night, when Light again appear'd,
Ther-with, again her Royal Crown she rear'd;
And in an Ile amid the Ocean set
(Maugre the Deluge that Romes Dragon spet,
With spight full storms striuing to ouer-flowe her,
And Spain conspyring iointly t' ouer-throwe-her)
Her Maiden Flowr flourisht aboue the Water;
For, still Heav'ns Sun cherisht his louing Daughter:
Bel fior d'Honor, ch'in Mare'l Mondo ammira,
Al Sole sacro, ch'E• BEN T' ALZA E GIRA
(So, my deer Wiat, honouring Stil the same,
In-soul'd an Imprese with her Anagramm):
And last, for guerdon of her constant Loue,
Rapt her intirely, to himself aboue.

So set our Sun; and yet no Night ensu'd:
So happily the Heav'ns our Light renu'd:
For, in her stead, of the same Stock of Kings
Another Flowr (or rather Phoenix) springs;
Another like (or rather Still the same)
No lesse in Loue with that Supernall Flame.
So, to God's glory, and his Churches good,
Th' honour of England, and the Royall blood,
Long happy Monark may king IAMES persist;
And after him, His; Still the same in Christ.

God, not content t' haue giuen these Plants of ours
Precious Perfumes, Fruits, plenty, pleasant Flowrs,
Infused Physick in their leaues and Mores,
To cure our sicknes, and to salve our sores:
Else doubt-less (Death assaults so many waies)
Scarce could we liue a quarter of our Daies;
But like the Flax, which flowrs at once and falls,
One Feast would serue our Births and Burials:
Our Birth our Death, our Cradle (then) our Toomb,
Our tender Spring our Winter would becom.

Good Lord! how many gasping Soules haue scap't
By th' ayd of Hearbs, for whom the Graue hath gap't;
Who, euen about to touch the Stygian strand!
Haue yet beguil'd grim Pluto's greedy hand!
Beard-less Apollo's beardy Sonn did once
With iuice of Hearbs r•ioin the scattered bones
Of the chaste Prince, that in th' Athenian Court
Preferred Death before incestuous sport.
So did Medea, for her Iason's sake,
The frozen limbs of Aeson youthfull make.
O sacred Simples that our life sustain,
And when it flies vs, call it back again!
'Tis not alone your liquor, inly taen,
That oft defends vs from so many a baen:
But euen your sauour, yea, your neighbourhood,
For som Diseases is exceeding good;
Working so rare effects, that only such
As feel, or see them, can beleeueso much.

Blew Succorie, hangd on the naked neck,
Dispels the dimness that our sight doth check.
Swines-Bread, sovsed, doth not onely speed
A tardy Labour; but (without great heed)
If ouer it a Child-great Woman stride,
Instant abortion often doth betide.
The burning Sun, the banefull Aconite,
The poysonie Serpents that vnpeople quite
Cyrenian Desarts, neuer Danger them
That wear about them th' Artemisian Stem.
About an Infants neck hang Peoni•,
It cures Al•ydes cruell maladie.
If fuming boawls of Bacchus, in excess,
Trouble thy brains with storms of gyddiness,
Put but a garland of green Saffron on,
And that mad humour will be quickly gon.
Th' inchanting Charms of Syrens blandishments,
Contagious A're ingendring Pestilence,
Infect not those that in their mouthes haue taen
Angelica that happy counter-baen,
Sent down from Heav'n by some Celestiall scout,
As well the name and nature both avow't.
So Pimpernel, held in the Patients hand,
The bloody-Flix doth presently with-stand:
And ruddy Madder's root, long handeled,
Dies th' handlers vrine into perfect red.
O Wondrous Woad! which, touching but the skin,
Imparts his colour to the parts within.

Nor (powerfull Hearbs) do we alonely finde
Your vertues working in frail humane kinde;
But you can force the fiercest Animals,
The fellest Fiends, the firmest Mineralls,
Yea, fairest Planets (if Antiquitie
Have not bely'd the Haggs of Thessalie).
Onely the touch of Choak-Pard Aconite,
Bereaves the Scorpion both of sense and might:
As (opposite) Helleborus doth make
His vitall powers from deadly slumber wake.
With Betonie, fell Serpents round beset,
Lift vp their heads, and fall to hiss and spet,
With spightfull fury in their sparkling eyes,
Breaking all truce, with infinite defies:
Puft vp with rage, to't by the eares they goe,
Baen against baen, plague against plague they throwe,
Charging each other with so fierce a force
(For friends turn'd foes have lightly least remorse)
That wounded all (or rather all a wound)
With poysoned gore they cover all the ground;
And nought can stint their strange intestine strife,
But onely th' end of their detested life.
As Betonie breaks friendships ancient bands,
So Willo-wort makes wonted hate shake hands:
For, being fastned to proud Coursers collers,
That fight and fling, it will abate their cholers.
The Swine, that feed in Troughes of Tamarice,
Consume their spleen. The like effect ther is
In Finger-Fern: which, being given to Swine,
It makes their Milts to Melt away in fine,
With ragged tooth choosing the same so right
Of all their Tripes to serue it's appetite.
And Horse, that, feeding on the grassy Hills,
Tread vpon Moon-woort with their hollow heeles;
Though lately shod, at night goe bare-foot home,
Their Maister musing where their shooes become:
O Moon-wort! tell vs where thou hidst the Smith,
Hammer, and Pincers, thou vnshoo'st them with?
Alas! what Locke or Iron Engine is't
That can thy subtile secret strength resist,
Sith the best Farrier cannot set a shoo
So sure, but thou (so shortly) canst vndoo?
But I suppose not, that the earth doth yeeld
In Hill or Dale, in Forrest or in Field,
A rarer Plant then Candian Dittanie,
Which wounded Dear eating, immediatly
Not onely cures their wounds exceeding well,
But 'gainst the Shooter doth the shaft repell.

Moreover (Lord) is't not a Work of thine.
That every where, in every Turf we finde
Such multitude of other Plants to spring,
In form, effect, and colour differing?
And each of them in their due Seasons taen,
To one is Physick, to another baen:
Now gentle, sharp anon: now good, then ill:
What cureth now, the same anon doth kill.
Th' hearb S•gapen serues the slowe Asse for meat,
But kils the Ox if of the same he eat.
So branched Hemlock for the Stares is fit;
But, death to man, if he but taste of it.
And Oleander vnto beasts is poyson;
But, vnto man a speciall counter-poyson.
What ranker poyson? what more deadly baen
Then Aconite, can there be toucht or taen?
And yet his iuice best cures the burning bit
Of stinging Serpents, if apply'd to it.
O valiant Venome! O courageous Plant!
Disdainfull Poyson! noble combatant!
That scorneth aid, and loves alone to fight,
That none partake the glory of his might:
For, if he finde our bodies fore-possest
With other Poyson, then he lets vs rest,
And with his Rivall enters secret Duel,
One to one, strong to strong, cruel to cruel,
Still fighting fierce, and never over-giue
Till they both dying, give Man leave to live.

And to conclude, whether I walke the Fields,
Rush through the Woods, or clamber vp the Hills,
I finde God every-where; Thence all depend,
He giueth frankly what we thankly spend.
Heer for our food, Millions of flow'rie grains,
With long Mustachoes, waue vpon the Plains;
Heer thousand fleeces, fit for Princes Robes,
In Sérean Forrests hang in silken Globes:
Heer shrubs of Malta (for my meaner vse)
The fine white balls of Bombace do produce.
Heer th' azure-flowred Flax is finely spun
For finest Linnen, by the Belgian Nun:
Heer fatall Hemp, which Denmark doth afford,
Doth furnish vs with Canuass, and with Cord,
Cables and Sayles; that, Windes assisting either,
We may acquaint the East and West together,
And dry-foot daunce on Neptunes Watry Front,
And in aduenture lead whole Towns vpon't.
Heer of one grain of Maiz, a Reed doth spring,
That thrice a year, fiue hundred grains doth bring;
Which (after) th' Indians parch, and punn, and knead,
And thereof make them a most holesom bread.

Th' Almighty Voyce, which built this mighty Ball,
Still, still rebounds and ecchoes ouer all:
That, that alone, yeerly the World revives;
Through that alone, all springs, all lives, all thrives:
And that alone makes, that our mealy grain
Our skilfull Seed-man scatters not in vain;
But being covered by the tooth-full Harrow,
Or hid a while vnder the folded furrow,
Rots to revive; and, warmly-wet, puts-forth
His root beneath, his bud above the Earth;
Enriching shortly with his springing Crop,
The Ground with green, the Husband-man with hope:
The bud becoms a blade, the blade a reed,
The reed an ear, the ear another seed:
The seed, to shut the wastefull Sparrows out
(In Harvest) hath a stand of Pikes about,
And Chaffie Husks in hollow Cods inclose-it;
Least heat, wet, winde, should roste, or rot, or lose-it:
And, least the Straw should not sustein the ear,
With knotty ioints 'tis sheathed heer and there.

Pardon me (Reader) if thy ravisht Eyes
Have seen To-Day too great varieties
Of Trees, of Flowrs, of Fruites, of Hearbs, of Grains,
In these my Groves, Meads, Orchards, Gardens, Plains;
Sith th' Ile of Zebut's admirable Tree
Beareth a fruit (call'd Cocos commonly)
The which, alone, far richer Wonders yields
Then all our Groves, Meads, Orchards, Gardens, Fields.
What? wouldst thou drink? the wounded leaues drop wine.
Lackst thou fine linnen? dress the tender rine,
Dress it like Flax, spin it. and weave it wel,
It shall thy Cambrik and thy Lawn excel.
Longst thou for Butter? bite the poulpy part,
And never better came to any Mart.
Needest thou Oyl? then boult it to and fro,
And passing oyle it soon becommeth so.
Or Vineger, to whet thine appetite?
Then sun it wel, and it will sharply bite.
Or wantst thou Sugar? steep the same a stound,
And sweeter Sugar is not to be found.
'Tis what you will: or will be what you would:
Should Mydas touch't (I think) it would be Gold.
And God (I think) to crown our life with ioyes,
The Earth with plenty, and his Name with praise,
Had don enough; if he had made no more
But this one Plant, so full of wondrous store:
Save that, the World (where one thing breeds satiety)
Could not be fair, without so great variety.

But th' Earth not onely on her back doth bear
Abundant treasures glistering everywhere
(As glorious vnthrifts, crost with Parents Curse,
Wear golden Garments; but an empty Purse:
Or Venus Darlings, fair without; within
Full of Disease, full of Deceipt and Sinne:
Or stately Toombes, externly gilt and garnisht;
With dust and bones inwardly fill'd and furnisht)
But inwardly shee's no less fraught with riches,
Nay rather more (which more our soules bewitches).
Within the deep folds of her fruitfull lap,
So bound-less Mines of treasure doth she wrap,
That th' hungry hands of humane avarice
Cannot exhaust with labour or device.
For, they be more then ther be Starrs in Heav'n,
Or stormy billows in the Ocean driv'n,
Or ears of Corn in Autumn on the Fields,
Or Savage Beasts vpon a thousand Hills,
Or Fishes diving in the silver Floods,
Or scattred Leaves in Winter in the Woods.

Slat, Iet, and Marble shall escape my pen,
I over-pass the Salt-mount Oromene,
I blanch the Brine-Quar Hill in Aragon,
Whence (there) they pouder their provision.
I'le onely now emboss my Book with Brass,
Dye't with Vermilion, deck't with Coperass,
With Gold and Siluer, Lead and Mercury,
Tin, Iron, Orpine, Stibium, Lethargy:
And on my Gold-work I will onely place
The Crystall pure, which doth reflect each face;
The precious Ruby, of a Sanguin hew,
The Seal-fit Onyx, and the Saphire blew,
The Cassidonie, full of circles round,
The tender Topaz, and rich Diamond,
The various Opal, and green Emerald,
The Agate by a thousand titles call'd,
The skie-like Turquez, purple Amethists,
And fiery Carbuncle, which flames resists.

I knowe, to Man the Earth seems (altogether)
No more a Mother, but a Step-dame rather:
Because (alas) vnto our loss she bears
Blood-shedding Steel, and Gold the ground of cares:
As if these Mettals, and not Man's amiss,
Had made Sin mount vnto the height it is.
But, as the sweet bait of aboundant Riches,
Bodies and Soules of greedy men bewitches:
Gold gilds the Vertuous, and it lends them wings
To raise their thoughts vnto the rarest things.
The wise, not onely Iron well apply
For houshold turns, and Tools of Husbandry;
But to defend their Country (when it calls)
From forrain dangers, and intestine bralls:
But, with the same the wicked never mell,
But to do seruice to the Haggs of Hell;
To pick a Lock, to take his neighbours Purse,
To break a House, or to doo somthing worse;
To cut his Parents throat, to kill his Prince,
To spoyl his Country, murder Innocents.
Even so, profaning of a gift divine,
The Drunkard drowns his Reason in the Wine:
So sale-tongu'd Lawyers, wresting Eloquence,
Excuse rich wrong, and cast poor Innocence:
So Antichrists, their poyson to infuse,
Miss-cite the Scriptures, and Gods name abuse.
For, as a Cask, through want of vse grow'n fusty,
Makes with his stink the best Greek Malmsey musty:
So God's best gifts, vsurpt by wicked Ones,
To poyson turn through their contagious.

But, shall I baulk th' admired Adamant,
Whose dead-live power, my Reasons power doth dant.
Renowned Load-stone, which on Iron acts,
And by the touch the same aloof attracts;
Attracts it strangely with vnclapsing crooks,
With vnknow'n cords, with vnconceived hooks,
With vnseen hands, with vndiscerned arms,
With hidden Force, with sacred secret charms,
Wherewith hee wooes his Iron Misteriss,
And never leaves her till he get a kiss;
Nay, till he fold her in his faithfull bosom,
Never to part (except we, love-less, loose-em)
With so firm zeal and fast affection
The Stone doth love the Steel, the Steel the Stone.
And though somtime som Make bate com betwixt,
Still burns their first flame; 'tis so surely fixt:
And, while they cannot meet to break their mindes,
With mutuall skips they shew their loue by signes
(As bashfull Suters. seeing Strangers by,
Parley in silence with their hand or eye).
Who can conceiue, or censure in what sort
One Loadstone-touched Annlet doth transport
Another Iron-Ring, and that another,
Till foure or fiue hang dangling one in other?
Greatest Apollo might he be (me thinks)
Could tell the Reason of these hanging links:
Sith Reason-scanners haue resolved all,
That heavie things, hangd in the Aire, must fall.

I am not ignorant, that He, who seeks
In Romane Robes to sute the Sagest Greeks,
Whose iealous wife, weening to home-revoke-him
With a Love-potion, did with poyson choak-him;
Hath sought to showe, with arguing subtilty,
The secret cause of this rare Sympathy.
But say (Lucretius) what's the hidden cause
That toward the North-Star still the needle draw's,
Whose point is toucht with Load-stone? loose this knot,
And still-green Laurell shall be still thy Lot:
Yea, Thee more learned will I then confess,
Then Epicurus, or Empedocles.

W'are not to Ceres so much bound for Bread,
Neither to Bacchus, for his Clusters red,
As (Signor Flauio) to thy witty triall,
For first inuenting of the Sea-mans Diall
(Th'vse of the Needle, turning in the same)
Diuine deu••?e! O admirable Frame!
Whereby, through th' Ocean, in the darkest night,
Our hugest Caraques are conducted right:
Whereby w'are stor'd with Truch-man, Guide, and Lamp
To search all corners of the watery Camp:
Whereby a Ship, that stormy Heav'ns haue whurld
Neer in one Night into another World,
Knowes where she is; and in the Card descries
What degrees thence the Equinoctiall lies.
Cleer-sighted Spirits, that cheer with sweet aspect
My sober Rymes, though subiect to defect;
If in this Volume, as you ouer-read it
You meet som things seeming exceeding credit,
Because (perhaps) heer proued yet by no-man;
Their strange effects be not in knowledge common:
Think, yet, to som the Load-stone's vse is new;
And seems as strange, as we haue try'd it true:
Let therefore that which Iron draw's, draw such
To credit more then what they see or touch.

Nor is th' Earth onely worthy praise eternall,
For the rare riches on her back externall;
Or in her bosom: but her own selfs worth
Solicits me to sound her glory forth.
I call to witnes all those weak diseased,
Whose bodies oft haue by th' effects been eased
Of Lemnos seal'd earth, or Eretrian soil,
Or that of Chios, or of Melos Ile.

All-hail fair Earth, bearer of Towns and Towrs,
Of Men, Gold, Grain, Physik, and Fruits, and Flowrs,
Fair, firm, and fruitfull, various, patient, sweet,
Sumptuously cloathed in a Mantle meet
Of mingled-colour; lac't about with Floods,
And all imbrodered with fresh blooming buds,
With rarest Gemmes richly about embost,
Excelling cunning and exceeding cost.
All-hail great Heart, round Base, and stedfast Root,
Of All the World, the Worlds strong fixed foot,
Heav'ns chastest Spouse, supporter of this All,
This glorious Buildings goodly Pedestall.
All hail deer Mother, Sister, Hostess, Nurse,
Of the Worlds Soverain: of thy liberall purse,
W'are all maintained: match-less Emperess,
To doo thee seruice with all readiness,
The Sphears, before thee bear ten thousand Torches:
The Fire, to warm thee, foldes his heatfull arches
In purest flames aboue the floating Cloud:
Th' Aire, to refresh thee, willingly is bow'd
About the Waues, and well content to suffer
Milde Zephyrs blasts, and Boreas bellowing rougher:
Water, to quench thy thirst, about thy Mountains,
Wraps her moist arms, Seas, riuers, lakes and fountains.

O how I grieue, deer Earth, that (given to gays)
Most of best wits contemn thee now-a-days:
And noblest hearts proudly abandon quight
Study of Hearbs, and Country-lifes delight,
To brutest men, to men of no regard,
Whose wits are Lead, whose bodies Iron-hard.
Such were not yerst the reuerend Patriarks,
Whose prayse is penned by the sacred Clarks.
Noah the iust, meek Moses, Abraham
(Who Father of the Faithfull Race becam)
Were Shepheards all, or Husbandmen (at least)
And in the Fields passed their Dayes the best.
Such were not yerst Attalus, Philemetor,
Archelaus, Hiero, and many a Pretor;
Great Kings & Consuls, who haue oft, for blades
And glistering Scepters, handled hooks and spades.
Such were not yerst, Cincinnatus Fabricius,
Serranus, Curius, who vn-self-delicious,
With Crowned Coultars, with Imperiall hands,
With Ploughs triumphant plough'd the Roman lands.
Great Scipio, sated with fain'd curtsie-capping,
With Court-Eclipses, and the tedious gaping
Of golden beggers: and that Emperour,
Of Slave, turn'd King; of King, turnd Labourer;
In Country Granges did their age confine:
And ordered there, with as good Discipline,
The Fields of Corn, as Fields of Combat first;
And Ranks of Trees, as Ranks of Souldiers yerst.

O thrice, thrice happy He, who shunns the cares
Of City-troubles, and of State-affairs;
And, seruing Ceres, Tills with his own Teem
His own Free-land, left by his Friends to him.

Never pale Enuie's poysonie heads doo hiss
To gnaw his heart; nor Vultur Auarice:
His Field's bounds, bound his thoughts: he never supps,
For Nectar, poyson mixtin silver Cups;
Neither in golden Platters doth he lick
For sweet Ambrosia deadly Arsenick:
His hand's his boaul (better then Plate or Glass)
The siluer Brook his sweetest Hypocrasse:
Milk, Cheese, and Fruit (fruits of his own endeuour)
Drest without dressing, hath he ready ever.

False Counsailours (Concealers of the Law)
Turn-coat Attourneys, that with both hands draw;
Sly Peti-Foggers, Wranglers at the Bar,
Proud Purse-Leaches, Harpies of Westminster,
With fained chiding, and foul iarring noyse,
Break not his brain, nor interrupt his ioyes.
But cheerfull Birds, chirping him sweet Good-morrows,
With Natures Musick doo beguile his sorrows;
Teaching the fragrant Forrests, day by day,
The Diapason of their Heav'nly Lay.

His wandring Vessell, reeling to and fro,
On th' irefull Ocean (as the Windes doo blowe)
With sodain Tempest is not ouer-whurld,
To seek his sad death in another World:
But, leading all his life at home in Peace,
Alwaies in sight of his own smoak; no Seas,
No other Seas he knowes, nor other Torrent,
Then that which waters, with his siluer Corrent
His Natiue Medowes: and that very Earth
Shall giue him Buriall, which first gaue him Birth.

To summon timely sleep, he doth not need
Aethyop's cold Rush, nor drowsy Poppy-seed;
Nor keep in consort (as Mecaenas did)
Luxurious Villains (Viols I should haue sayd);
But on green Carpets thrumd with mossy Beuer,
Frendging the round skirts of his winding Riuer,
The streams milde murmur, as it gently gushes,
His healthy limbs in quiet slumber hushes.

Drum, Fife, and Trumpet, with their loud A-larms,
Make him not start out of his sleep, to Arms:
Nor deer respect of som great Generall,
Him from his bed vnto the block doth call.
The crested Cock sings Hunt is vp to him,
Limits his rest, and makes him stir betime,
To walk the Mountains, or the flowry Meads,
Impearld with tears, that sweet Aurora sheads.

Never gross Aire, poysond in stinking Streets,
To choak his spirit, his tender nostrill meets;
But th' open Sky, where at full breath he liues,
Still keeps him sound, and still new stomack giues:
And Death, drad Seriant of th' eternall Iudge,
Coms very late to his sole seated Lodge.

His wretched yeers in Princes Courts he spends not:
His thralled will on Great mens wils depends not:
He, changing Master, doth not change at once
His Faith; Religion, and his God renounce:
With mercenary lies hee doth not chaunt,
Praysing an Emmet for an Elephant:
Sardanapalus (drown'd in soft excess)
For a triumphant vertuous Hercules;
Thersites foul, for Venus louely Loue;
And every Changeling for a Turtle-Doue;
Nor lavishes in his lascivious layes,
On wanton Flora, chaste Alcestes prayse.
But all self-priuate, serving God, he writes
Fear-less, and sings but what his heart in dites.

No sallow Fear doth day or night afflict-him:
Vnto no fraud doth night or day addict-him;
Or if he muse on guile, 'tis but to get
Beast, Bird, or Fish, in toil, or snare, or net.

What though his Wardrobe be not stately stuft
With sumptuous silks (pinked, and powne't, and puft)
With gold-ground Velvets, and with siluer Tissue,
And all the glory of old Eues proud Issue?
What though his feeble Cofers be not cramd
With Misers Idols, golden Ingotsramd?
He is warm-wrapped in his own-growen Wooll;
Of vn-bought Wines his Cellar's everfull;
His Garner's stor'd with grain, his Ground with flocks,
His Barns with Fodder, with sweet streams his Rocks.

For, heer I sing the happy Rustiks weal,
Whose handsom house seems as a Common-weal:
And not the needy, hard rack-rented Hinde,
Or Copy-holder, whom hard Lords doo grinde;
The pined Fisher, or poor-Daiery-Renter
That liues of whay, for forfeiting Indenture;
Who scarce haue bread within their homely Cotes
(Except by fits) to feed their hungry throats.

Let me good Lord, among the Great vn-kend,
My rest of daies in the calm Countrey end.
Let me deserue of my deer AEGLE-Brood,
For Windsor-Forrest, walks in Almes-wood:
Bee Hadley Pond my Sea; Lambs-bourn my Thames;
Lambourn my London; Kennet's siluer streams,
My fruitfull Nile; my Singers and Musicians,
The pleasant Birds with warbling repetitions;
My company, pure thoughts, to work thy will;
My Court, a Cottage on a lowely Hill;
Where, without let, I may so sing thy Name,
That times to-com may wonder at the same.

Or, if the new North-star, my Souerain, IAMES
(The secret vertue of whose sacred beams
Attracts th' attentiue seruice of all such
Whose mindes did euer Vertue's Load-stone touch)
Shall euer daign t'inuite mine humble Fate
T'approoch the Presence of his Royall State:
Or, if my Duty, or the Grace of Nobles,
Shall driue or draw me neer their pleasing-Troubles;
Let not their Fauours make me drunk with folly:
In their Commands, still keep my Conscience holy:
Let me, true Honour, not the false delight;
And play the Preacher, not the Parasite.

So, Morn and Euening the Third Day conclude,
And God perceiv'd that All his Works were good.