TO ELECTRA.

'Tis ev'ning, my sweet,
And dark; let us meet;

Long time w'ave here been a toying;
And never, as yet,

That season co'd get, Wherein t'ave had an enjoying.

For pitty or shame,

Then let not Love's flame Be ever and ever a spending; Since now to the port

The path is but short,

And yet our way has no ending.

Time flyes away fast,

Our houres doe waste; The while we never remember,

How soone our life here,

Growes old with the yeere, That dyes with the next December.

DISCORD NOT DISADVANTAGEOUS.

FORTUNE no higher project can devise, Then to sow discord 'mongst the enemies.

ILL GOVERNMENT.

PREPOSTEROUS is that government, and rude, When kings obey the wilder multitude.

TO MARYGOLDS.

GIVE way, and be ye ravisht by the sun,
And hang the head when as the act is done;
Spread as he spreads; wax lesse as he do's wane ;
And as he shuts, close up to maids again.

TO DIANEME.

GIVE me one kisse,

And no more :

If so be this

Makes you poore;

To enrich you,

Ile restore

For that one, two

Thousand score.

TO JULIA, THE FLAMINICA DIALIS ;

OR, QUEEN-PRIEST.

THOU know'st, my Julia, that it is thy turne
This morning's incense to prepare and burne;

The chaplet and 1inarculum here be,

With the white vestures all attending thee.

This day the Queen-Priest thou art made, t'appease
Love for our very many trespasses.

One chiefe transgression is, among the rest,
Because with flowers her temple was not drest;
The next, because her altars did not shine
With daily fyers; the last, neglect of wine,
For which, her wrath is gone forth to consume
Us all, unlesse preserv'd by thy perfume.
Take then thy censer; put in fire, and thus,
O pious Priestesse! make a peace for us.
For our neglect, love did our death decree,
That we escape: Redemption comes by thee.

ANACREONTIKE.

BORN I was to be old,

And for to die here;
After that, in the mould
Long for to lye here.
But before that day comes,

Still I be bousing;

For I know in the tombs

There's no carousing.

1 A twig of a pomgranat, which the Queen-priest used to

weare on her head at sacrificing.

MEAT WITHOUT MIRTH.

EATEN I have; and though I had good cheere,
I did not sup, because no friends were there.
Where mirth and friends are absent when we dine
Or sup, there wants the incense and the wine.

LARGE BOUNDS DOE BUT BURY US.

ALL things o'r-rul'd are here by chance;
The greatest man's inheritance,
Where ere the luckie lot doth fall,
Serves but for place of buriall.

UPON URSLEY.

URSLEY, she thinks those velvet patches grace
The candid temples of her comely face;
But he will say, whoe'r those circlets seeth,
They be but signs of Ursley's hollow teeth.

AN ODE TO SIR CLIPSEBIE CREW.

HERE we securely live, and eate
The creame of meat;

And keep eternal fires,

By which we sit, and doe divine,

As wine

And rage inspires.

If full, we charme; then call upon

Anacreon

To grace the frantick thyrse: And having drunk, we raise a shout

Throughout,

To praise his verse.

Then cause we Horace to be read,

Which sung or seyd,

A goblet, to the brim,

Of lyrick wine, both swell'd and crown'd,

A round

We quaffe to him.

Thus, thus we live, and spend the houres, In wine and flowers;

And make the frolick yeere,

The month, the week, the instant day

To stay

The longer here.

Come then, brave Knight, and see the cell

Take horse, and come; or be so kind
To send your mind,