IN CASTARA,

ALL FORTUNES.

YE glorious wits, who finde than Parian stone,
A nobler quarry to build trophies on,

Purchast 'gainst conquer'd time, go court loud
He wins it, who but sings Castara's name. [fame:
Aspiring soules, who grow but in a spring,
Forc't by the warmth of some indulgent king;
Know if Castara smile, I dwell in it,
And vie for glory with the favourit.
Ye sonnes of avarice, who but to share
Vncertaine treasure with a certain care,
Tempt death in th' horrid ocean: I, when ere
I but approach her, find the Indies there.
Heaven brightest saint! kinde to my vowes made
Of all ambition courts, th' epitome.

VPON THOUGHT CASTABA MAY DYE.

[thee

If she should dye, "(as well suspect we may,
A body so compact should ne're decay)
Her brighter soule would in the Moon inspire
More chastity, in dimmer starres more fire.
You twins of Læda (as your parents are
In their wild lusts) may grow irregular
Now in your motion; for the marriner
Henceforth shall onely steere his course by her :
And when the zeale of after time shall spie
Her uncorrupt i' th' happy marble lie,
The roses in her cheekes unwithered,
'Twill turne to love, and dote upon the dead :
For he who did to her in life dispence

A Heaven, will banish all corruption thence.

TIME TO THE MOMENTS, ON SIGHT OF
CASTARA.

You younger children of your father stay,
Swift flying moments (which divide the day
And with your number measure out the yeare
In various seasons) stay and wonder here.
For since my cradle, I so bright a grace
Ne're saw, as you see in Castara's face;
Whom Nature to revenge some youthfull crime
Would never frame, till age had weakened Time.
Else spight of fate, in some faire forme of clay
My youth I'de' bodied, throwne my sythe away,
And broke my glasse. But since that cannot be,
I'le punish Nature for her injurie.

On nimble moments! in your journey flie,
Castara shall, like me, grow old, and die.

I must confesse (deare friend) my flame,
Whose boasts Castara so doth tame,
That not thy faith shall know her name.

'Twere prophanation of my zeale,
If but abroad one whisper steale;
They love betray who him reveale.

In a darke cave which never eye
Could by his subtlest ray descry,
It doth like a rich minerall lye.

Which if she with her flame refine,
I'de force it from that obscure mine,
And then it like pure gold should shine.

A DIALOGUE BETWEENE HOPE AND FEARE.

FEARE.

CHECKE thy forward thoughts, and know
Hymen only joynes their hands;
Who with even paces goe,
Shee in gold, he rich in lands.

HOPE.

But Castara's purer fire,

When it meetes a noble flame;
Shuns the smoke of such desire,
Ioynes with love, and burnes the same.

FEARE.

Yet obedience must prevaile; They, who o're her actions sway, Would have her in th' ocean saile, And contemne thy narrow sea.

HOPE.

Parents' lawes must beare no weight
When they happinesse prevent,
And our sea is not so streight,
But it roome hath for content.

FEARE.

Thousand hearts as victims stand,
At the altar of her eyes;
And will partiall she command,
Onely thine for sacrifice?

HOPE.

Thousand victims must returne; She the purest will designe: Choose Castara which shall burne, Choose the purest, that is mine.

TO A FRIEND INQUIRING HER NAME, WHOM HE

LOVED.

FOND Love himselfe hopes to disguise
From view, if he but covered lies,
I' th' veile of my transparent eyes.

Though in a smile himselfe he hide,
Or in a sigh, thou art so tride
In all his arts, hee'le be descride.

TO CUPID,

VPON A DIMPLE IN CASTARA'S CHEEKE

NIMBLE boy, in thy warme flight
What cold tyrant dimm'd thy sight?
Hadst thou eyes to see my faire,
Thou wouldst sigh thy self to ayre:
Fearing to create this one,
Nature had her selfe undone.

But, if you, when this you heare,
Fall downe murdered through your eare,
Begge of love that you may have
In her cheeke a dimpled grave.
Lilly, rose, and violet

Shall the perfum❜d hearse beset;
While a beauteous sheet of lawne
O're the wanton corps is drawne :
And all lovers use this breath;
"Here lies Cupid blest in death."

VPON

CVPID'S DEATH AND BURIAL IN
CASTARA'S CHEEKE.

CVPID'S dead. Who would not die,
To be interr'd so neere her eye?
Who would feare the sword, to have
Such an alabaster grave?

O're which two bright tapers burne,
To give light to the beauteous vrne.
At the first Castara smil'd,
Thinking Cupid her beguiled,
Onely counterfeiting death :
But when she perceived his breath
Quite expir'd: the mournefull girle,
To entombe the boy in pearle,
Wept so long; till pittious Iove
From the ashes of this Love,
Made ten thousand Cupids rise,
But confin'd them to her eyes:
Where they yet, to show they lacke
No due sorrow, still weare blacke.
But the blacks so glorious are
Which they mourne in, that the faire
Quires of starres, looke pale and fret,
Seeing themselves out shin'd by jet.

TO FAME.

FLY on thy swiftest wing, ambitious Fame,
And speake to the cold North Castara's name :
Which very breath will, like the East wind, bring,
The temp'rate warmth, and musicke of the spring.
Then, from the articke to th' antarticke pole,
Haste nimbly and inspire a gentler soule,
By naming her, i' th' torrid South; that he
May milde as Zephyrus' coole whispers be.
Nor let the West where Heaven already joynes
The vastest empire, and the wealthiest mines,
Nor th' East, in pleasures wanton, her condemne,
For not distributing her gifts on them.

For she with want would have her bounty meet,
Love's noble charity is so discreete.

CASTARA.

I saw love as lightning breake
From thy eyes, and was content
Oft to heare thy silence speake:
Silent love is eloquent :

So the sence of learning heares
The dumbe musicke of the spheares.

ARAPHILL.

Then there's mercy in your kinde,
Listning to an unfain'd love :
Or strives he to tame the wind,
Who would your compassion move?
No; y'are pittious as y're faire :
Heaven relents, o'ercome by prayer.

CASTARA.

But loose man too prodigall
Is in the expence of vowes;
And thinks to him kingdomes fall
When the heart of woman bowes;
Frailty to your armes may yeeld;
Who resists you wins the field.

ARAPHILL.

Triumph not to see me bleede,
Let the bore, chafed from his den,
On the wounds of mankinde feede;
Your softe sexe should pitty men :
Malice well may practise art,
Love hath a transparent heart.

CASTARA.

Yet is love all one deceit,

A warme frost, a frozen fire:
She within herself is great,
Who is slave to no desire;

Let youth act, and age advise,
And then Love may finde his eyes.

ARAPHILL.

Hymen's torch yeelds a dim light,
When ambition joynes our hands;
A proud day, but mournefull night,
She sustaines, who marries lands:

Wealth slaves man: but for their ore,
Th' Indians had beene free, though poore.

CASTARA.

And yet wealth the fuell is

Which maintaines the nuptiall fire;

And in honour there's a blisse,

Th' are immortall who aspire.

But truth sayes no joyes are sweete,
But where hearts united meete.

A DIALOGUE,

BETWEEN ARAPHILL AND CASTARA.

ARAPHILL.

Dost not thou Castara read

Am'rous volumes in my eyes?
Doth not every motion plead
What I'de shew, and yet disguise?
Sences act each other's part,
Eyes, as tongues, reveale the heart.

ARAPHILE.

Roses breath not such a sent,
To perfume the neighb'ring groves;
As when you affirm content,
In no spheare of glory moves:
Glory narrow soules combines :
Noble hearts Love onely joynes.

TO CASTARA,

INTENDING A JOURNEY INTO THE COUNTRY.

WHY haste you hence Castara? can the Earth,
A glorious mother, in her flow'ry birth,
Show lillies like thy brow? Can she disclose
In emulation of thy cheeke, a rose,

Sweete as thy blush; upon thy selfe then set
Iust value, and scorne it thy counterfet.

The spring's still with thee; but perhaps the field,
Not warm'd with thy approach, wants force to yeeld
Her tribute to the plough; O rather let
Th' ingratefull Earth for ever be in debt
To th' hope of sweating Industry, than we
Should starve with cold, who have no heat but thee,
Nor feare the publicke good; thy eyes can give
A life to all, who can deserve to live.

VPON A TREMBLING KISS AT DEPARTURE.

TH' Arabian wind, whose breathing gently blows
Purple to th' violet, blushes to the rose,
Did never yeeld an odour rich as this:
Why are you then so thrifty of a kisse,
Authoriz'd even by custome? Why doth feare
So tremble on your lip, my lip being neare?
Thinke you 1, parting with so sad a zeale,
Will act so blacke a mischiefe, as to steale
Thy roses thence? And they, by this device,
Transplanted, somewhere else force Paradice?
Or else you feare, lest you, should my heart skip
Vp to my mouth, t' incounter with your lip,

Might rob me of it; and be judg'd in this,
T' have Iudas like betraid me with a kisse.

And gathering up my ashes, weepe,
That in his teares he them may steepe:
And thus embalm'd, as reliques, keepe.

Thither let lovers pilgrims turne,
And the loose flames in which they burne,
Give up as offerings to my vrne.

That them the vertue of my shrine
By miracle so long refine;
Till they prove innocent as mine.

UPON CASTARA'S ABSENCE.
T'is madnesse to give physicke to the dead;
Then leave me friends: Yet haply you'd here read
A lecture; but I'le not dissected be,

T' instruct your art by my anatomie.
But still you trust your sense, sweare you descry
No difference in me. All's deceit o' th' eye,
Some spirit hath a body fram'd in th' ayre,
Like mine, which he doth to delude you weare :
Else Heaven by miracle makes me survive
My selfe, to keepe in me poore love alive.
But I am dead, yet let none question where
My best part rests, and with a sigh or teare,
Prophane the pompe, when they my corps interre,
My soule imparadis'd, for 'tis with her.

TO CASTARA,

COMPLAINING HER ABSENCE IN THE COUNTRY.

THE lesser people of the ayre conspire
To keepe thee from me. Philomel with higher
And sweeter notes, wooes thee to weepe her rape,
Which would appease the gods, and change her
shape.

The early larke, preferring 'fore soft rest
Obsequious duty, leaves his downy nest,
And doth to thee harmonious tribute pay;
Expecting from thy eyes the breake of day.
From which the owl is frighted, and doth rove
(As never having felt the warmth of love)
In uncouth vaults, and the chill shades of night,
Not biding the bright lustre of thy sight.

With him my fate agrees. Not viewing thee
I'me lost in mists: at best, but metcors see,

TO THAMES.

SWIFT in thy watry chariot, courteous Thames,
Hast by the happy errour of thy streames,
To kisse the banks of Marlow, which doth show
Faire Seymors3, and beyond that never flow.
Then summon all thy swans, that who did give
Musicke to death, may henceforth sing, and live,
She can life restore,
For my Castara.

Or quicken them who had no life before.
How should the poplar else the pine provoke,
The stately cedar challenge the rude oke
To dance at sight of her? They have no sense
From Nature given, but by her influence;

If Orpheus did those senslesse creatures move,
He was a prophet and fore sang my love.

3 By a subsequent poem, this appears to have been the house where Castara lived. 3 R3

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE

THE EARLE OF SHREWES.

My Muse, (great lord) when last you heard her sing,
Did to your vncles vrne her off'rings bring:
And if to fame I may give faith, your eares
Delighted in the musicke of her teares.
That was her debt to vertue. And when e're
She her bright head among the clouds shall reare,
And adde to th' wondring Heavens a new flame,
Shee'le celebrate the genius of your name.
Wilde with another race, inspir'd by love,
She charmes the myrtles of the Idalian grove.
And while she gives the Cyprian stormes a law,
Those wanton doves which Cythereia draw
Through th' am'rous ayre, admire what power doth
The ocean, and arrest them in their way.
She sings Castara then. O she more bright,
Than is the starry senate of the night;
Who in their motion did like straglers erre,
Cause they deriv'd no influence from her,
Who's constant as she's chaste. The Sunne hath
beene

[sway

Clad like a neighb'ring shepheard often seene
To hunt those dales, in hope than Daphne's, there
To see a brighter face. Th' astrologer [show
In th' interim dyed, whose proud art could not
Whence that ecclipse did on the sudden grow.
A wanton satyre eager in the chase
Of some faire nymph, beheld Castara's face,
And left his loose pursuite; who while he ey'd,
Vnchastely, such a beauty, glorified

With such a vertue, by Heaven's great commands,
Turn'd marble, and there yet a statue stands.
As poet thus But as a Christian now,
And by my zeale to you (my lord) I vow,
She doth a flame so pure and sacred move;
In me impiety 'twere not to love.

TO CVPID,

WISHING A SPEEDY PASSAGE TO CASTARA.

THANKES Cupid, but the coach of Venus moves
For me too slow, drawne but by lazie doves.
I, lest my journey a delay should finde,
Will leape into the chariot of the wind.
Swift as the flight of lightning through the ayre,
Hee'le hurry me till I approach the faire,
But unkinde Seymors. Thus he will proclaime,
What tribute winds owe to Castara's name.
Viewing this prodigie, astonisht they,
Who first accesse deny'd me, will obey,

With feare what love commands: yet censure me
As guilty of the blackest sorcery;

But after to my wishes milder prove,
When they know this the miracle of love.

TO CASTARA,

OF LOVE.

How fancie mockes me! By th' effect I prove,
'Twas am'rous folly, wings ascrib'd to Love,
And ore th' obedient elements command.
Hee's lame as he is blinde, for here I stand
Fixt as the Earth. Throw then this idoll downe
Yee lovers who first made it; which can frowne

Or smile but as you please. But I'me untame
In rage.
Castara call thou on his name,

And though hee'le not beare up my vowes to thee,
Hee'le triumph to bring downe my saint to me.

TO THE SPRING,

VPON THE UNCERTAINTY OF CASTARA'S ABODE. FAIRE mistresse of the Earth, with garlands crown'd Rise, by a lover's charme, from the partcht ground, And shew thy flowry wealth: that she, where ere Her starres shall guide her, meete thy beauties there.

Should she to the cold northerne climates goe,
force thy affrighted lillies there to grow,
Thy roses in those gelid fields t'appeare;
She absent, I have all their winter here.
Or if to th' torrid zone her way she bend,
Her the coole breathing of Favonious lend.
Thither command the birds to bring their quires;
That zone is temp'rate, I have all his fires.
Attend her, courteous Spring, though we should
Lose by it all the treasures of the yeere.
[here

TO REASON,

VPON CASTARA'S ABSENCE.

WITH your calme precepts goe, and lay a storme
In some brest flegmaticke which would conforme
Her life to your cold lawes: in vaine y' engage
Your selfe on me, I will obey my rage.
Shee's gone, and I am lost. Some unknowne grove
I'le finde, where by the miracle of Love
I'le turne t' a fountaine, and divide the yeere,
By numbring every moment with a teare.
Where if Castara (to avoyd the beames [streames,
O' th' neigh'bring Sun) shall wandring meet my
And tasting hope her thirst alaid shall be,
Shee'le feele a sudden flame, and burne like me:
And thus distracted cry; "Tell me thou cleere,
But treach'rous fount, what lover's coffin'd here?"

AN

ANSWERE TO CASTARA'S QUESTION.

Where

"TIS I, Castara, who when thou wert gone,
Did freeze into this melancholly stone,
To weepe the minutes of thy absence.
Can greefe have freer scope to mourne than here?
The larke here practiseth a sweeter straine,
Aurora's early blush to entertaine,

And having too deepe tasted of these streames,
He loves, and amorously courts her beames.
The courteous turtle with a wandring zeale,
Saw how to stone I did myselfe congeale, [move
And murm'ring askt, what power this change &
The language of my waters whispered, Love.

And thus transform'd I'le stand, till I shall we
That heart so ston'd and frozen, thaw'd in thee.

TO CASTARA,

VPON THE DISGUISING HIS AFFECTION.

PRONOUNCE me guilty of a blacker crime,
Then e're in the large volume writ by Time,
The sad historian reades, if not my art
Dissembles love, to veile an am'rous heart.
For when the zealous anger of my friend
Checkes my unusuall sadnesse : I pretend
To study vertue, which indeede I doe,
He must court vertue who aspires to you.
Or that some friend is dead, and then a teare,
A sigh, or groane steales from me: for I feare
Lest death with love hath strooke my heart, and all
These sorrowes usher but its funerall:
[be,
Which should revive, should there you a mourner
And force a nuptiall in an obsequie.

TO THE HONOURABLE

MY HONOURED KINSMAN MR. G. T. 4
THRICE hath the pale-fac'd empresse of the night,
Lent in her chaste increase her borrowed light,
To guide the vowing mariner: since mute
Talbot th'ast beene, too slothfull to salute
Thy exil'd servant. Labour not t' excuse
This dull neglect: love never wants a Muse.
When thunder summons from eternall sleepe

[deepe

Th' imprison'd ghosts, and spreads o' th' frighted
A veile of darknesse; penitent to be
I may forget, yet still remember thee,
Next to my faire, under whose eye-lids move,
In nimble measures beauty, wit, and love.
Nor think Castara (though the sex be fraile,
And ever like uncertaine vessels saile

On th' ocean of their passions; while each wind,
Triumphs to see their more uncertaine mind,)
Can be induc't to alter. Every starre

May in its motion grow irregular;
The Sunne forget to yeeld his welcome flame
To th' teeming Earth, yet she remaine the same.
And in my armes (if poets may divine)
I once that world of beauty shall intwine.
And on her lips print volumes of my love,
Without a froward checke, and sweetly move
I' th' labrinth of delight. If not, I'le draw
Her picture on my heart, and gently thaw
With warmth of zeale, untill I Heaven entreat,
To give true life to th' ayery counterfeit.

ECCHO TO NARCISSUS,

IN PRAISE OF CASTARA'S DISCreete love.

SCORN'D in thy watry vrne Narcissus lye,
Thou shalt not force more tribute from my eye
T' increase thy streames: or make me weepe a
showre,

To adde fresh beauty to thee, now a flowre.
But should relenting Heaven restore thee sence,
To see such wisedome temper innocence,
In faire Castara's loves; how shee discreet,
Makes causion with a noble freedome meete,
At the same moment; thou'ld'st confesse, fond boy,
Fooles onely thinke them vertuous, who are coy.
4 George Talbot.

And wonder not that I, who have no choyce Of speech, have, praysing her, so free a voyce: Heaven her severest sentence doth repeale, When to Castara I would speake my zeale.

TO CASTARA,

BEING DEBARR'D HER PRESENCE.

BANISHT from you, I charg'd the nimble winde,
My unseene messenger, to speake my minde,
In am'rous whispers to you. But my Muse,
Lest the unruly spirit should abuse

[eye

The trust repos'd in him, sayd it was due
To her alone, to sing my loves to you.
Heare her then speake. "Bright lady, from whose
Shot lightning to his heart, who joyes to dye
A martyr in your flames: O let your love
Be great and firme as his: Then nought shall move
Your settled faiths, that both may grow together:
Or if by Fate divided, both may wither.
Harke! 'twas a groane. Ah how sad absence rends
His troubled thoughts! See, he from Marlow sends
His eyes to Seymors. Then chides th' envious trees,
And unkinde distance. Yet his fancie sees
And courts your beauty, joyes as he had cleav'd
Close to you, and then weepes because deceiv'd.
Be constant as y'are faire. For I fore-see
A glorious triumph waits o' th' victorie
Your love will purchase, showing us to prize
A true content. There onely Love hath eyes."

TO SEYMORS,

THE HOUSE IN WHICH CASTARA LIVED.

BLEST temple, haile, where the chast altar stands,
Which Nature built, but the exacter hands
Of vertue polisht. Though sad Fate deny
My prophane feete accesse, my vowes shall flye.
May those musitians, which divide the ayre
With their harmonious breath, their flight prepare
For this glad place, and all their accents frame,
To teach the eccho my Castara's name.
The beautious troopes of Graces, led by Love
In chaste attempts, possesse the neighb'ring grove,
Where may the spring dwell still. May every tree
Turne to a laurell, and propheticke be,
Which shall in its first oracle divine,
That courteous Fate decrees Castara mine.

TO THE DEW,

IN HOPE to SEE CASTARA WALKING. BRIGHT dew, which dost the field adorne, As th' Earth, to welcome in the morne, Would hang a jewell on each corne :

Did not the pittious night, whose eares
Have oft beene conscious of my feares,
Distil you from her eyes as teares?

Or that Castara for your zeale,
When she her beauties shall reveale,
Might you to dyamonds congeale?