To Mrs. E. B. upon a fudden Surprisal,
PELLES, prince of Painters, did
All others in that art exceed :
But you surpass him, for he took
Some pains and time to draw a look, You, in a tricé and moment's space,
Have pourtray'd in my heart your face,
Poems by J. Howell.
1664. Lond. Ed.
NOT ftayed ftate, but feeble stay,
Not coftly robes, but bare array;
Not paffed welth, but present want.
Not heped store, but fclender fkant,
Not plenties purse, but poore eftate,
Not happy hap, but froward fate;
Not with at wil, but want of joy,
Not harts good helth, but harts annoy :
Not freedomes ufe, but prifoners thrall,
Not coftly feate, but lowest fall:
Not weale I meane, but wretched wo,
Doth truely try, the freend from foe:
And nowght but frowarde Fortune proves,
Who fauning faines, or fimply loves.
Paradife of Daynty Devife.
Fol. 1, 3. figned M. Yloop.
AN APOSTROPHE TO CHARITY.
WHERE is this love become in later age?
Alas! 'tis gone in endleffe pilgrimage
From hence, and never to returne, I doubt,
Till revolution wheele thofe times about;
Chill brefts have starv'd her here, and the is driven
Away; and with Aftræa fled to Heaven.
Poore Charity, that naked Babe, is gone,
Her honey's spent, and all her store is done;
Her wingleffe bees can finde out ne're a bloome,
And crooked Até doth ufurpe her roome;
Nepenthe's dry, and Love can get no drinke,
And curs'd Ardenne flowes above the brinke.
A Feaft for Wormes. Med. 5.
1650. Lond. by F. Quarles,
Chastity, the flower of the foule,
How is thy perfect fairneffe turn'd to foule!
How are thy bloffomes blasted all to duft,
By fudden lightning of untamed luft!
How hast thou thus defil'd thy iv'ry feet!
Thy fweetneffe that was once, how far from sweet!
Where are thy maiden smiles, thy blushing cheek?
Thy lamb-like countenance, so faire, so meeke?
Where is that spotleffe Flower that while-ere
Within thy lily-bofome thou didst weare?
Has wanton Cupid fnatcht it, hath his dart
Sent courtly tokens to thy fimple heart?
Where dost thou bide? the Country halfe disclaimes, thee,
The City wonders when a body names thee:
Or have the rurall woods ingroft thee there,
And thus forestall'd our empty markets here?
Sure thou art not, or kept where no man showes thee
Or chang'd fo much, fcarce man or woman knowes thee.
Hift. of Queen Efter,
by F. Quarles.
To his Sonne VINCENT CORBET.
HAT I fhall leave thee
But all shall say I wish thee well:
I wish thee (Vin) before all wealth,
Both bodily and ghoftly health;
Nor too much wealth, nor wit come to thee,
So much of either may undoe thee.
I wish thee learning, not for fhow,
Enough for to instruct, and know;
Not fuch as gentlemen require
To prate at table, or at fire.
I wish thee all thy mother's graces,
Thy father's fortunes, and his places.
I wish thee friends, and one at Court
Not to build on but support;
To keepe thee, not in doing many
Oppreffions, but from suffering any.
I wish thee peace in all thy wayes,
Nor lazy nor contentious dayes;
And when thy foule and body part,
As innocent as now thou art.
Certain Elegant Poems, Written by Dr. Corbet, &c. Lond. 1647.
MY once dear Love, haplefs that I no more
Muft call thee so; the rich affections store
That fed our hopes, lies now exhaust and spent,
Like fummes of treasure unto bankrupts lent.
We that did nothing study but the way
To love each other, with which thoughts the day
Rofe with delight to us, and with them fet,
Muft learn the hateful art how to forget.
We that did nothing with that Heav'n could give
Beyond ourselves, nor did defire to live
Beyond that wifh, all these now cancell muft
As if not writ in faith, but words and duft.
Yet witness those cleer vowes which Lovers make,
Witness the chaft defires that never brake
Into unruly hearts; witness that brest
Which in thy bosom anchor'd his whole reft,
'Tis no default in us, I dare acquite
Thy maiden faith, thy purpose fair and white
As thy pure felf, crofs Planets did envie
Us to each other, and Heaven did untie
Fafter then vowes could binde. O that the Starres
When Lovers meet, should stand oppos'd in warres!
Since then some higher Destinies command,
Let us not ftrive nor labour to withstand
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