ONCE POORE, STILL PENURIOUS.

GOES the world now, it will with thee goe hard; The fattest hogs we grease the more with lard. To him that has, there shall be added more ; Who is penurious, he shall still be poore.

SWEETNESSE IN SACRIFICE.

'Tis not greatness they require,
To be offer'd up by fire;
But 'tis sweetness that doth please
Those eternall essences.

STEAME IN SACRIFICE.

IF meat the Gods give, I the steame,
High towring, wil devote to them;
Whose easie natures like it well,
If we the roste have, they the smell.

UPON JULIA'S VOICE.

So smooth, so sweet, so silv'ry is thy voice,

As, could they hear, the damn'd would make no noise;

But listen to thee, walking in thy chamber,

Melting melodious words to lutes of amber.

AGAINE.

WHEN I thy singing next shall heare,
Ile wish I might turne all to eare,
To drink in notes and numbers, such
As blessed soules cann't heare too much :
Then melted down, there let me lye
Entranc'd, and lost confusedly;
And by thy musique strucken mute,
Die, and be turn'd into a lute.

ALL THINGS DECAY AND DIE.

ALL things decay with time: The forrest sees
The growth and down-fall of her aged trees;
That timber tall, which three-score lusters stood
The proud dictator of the state-like wood;
I meane the soveraigne of all plants, the oke
Droops, dies, and falls without the cleaver's stroke.

THE SUCCESSION OF THE FOURE SWEET MONTHS.

FIRST, April, she with mellow showers
Opens the way for early flowers;
Then after her comes smiling May,

In a more rich and sweet aray;

Next enters June, and brings us more

Jems then those two that went before ;
Then, lastly, July comes, and she

More wealth brings in than all those three.

NO SHIPWRACK OF VERTUE.

TO A FRIEND.

THOU sail'st with others in this Argus here, Nor wrack or bulging thou hast cause to feare; But trust to this, my noble passenger,

Who swims with Vertue, he shall still be sure, Ulysses-like, all tempests to endure,

And 'midst a thousand gulfs to be secure.

UPON HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, MISTRESSE ELIZAB

HERRICK.

FIRST, for effusions due unto the dead,

My solemne vowes have here accomplished; Next, how I love thee, that my griefe must tell, Wherein thou liv'st for ever. Deare, farewell!

OF LOVE. A SONET.

How love came in, I do not know,
Whether by th' eye, or eare, or no;
Or whether with the soule it came,
At first, infused with the same;
Whether in part 'tis here or there,
Or, like the soule, whole every where.
This troubles me; but I as well

As any other, this can tell;

That when from hence she does depart,

The out-let then is from the heart.

TO ANTHEA.

Ан my
Anthea! Must my heart still break?
Love makes me write what shame forbids to speak.
Give me a kisse, and to that kisse a score;
Then to that twenty, adde an hundred more:
A thousand to that hundred; so kisse on,

To make that thousand up a million.
Treble that million, and when that is done,
Let's kisse afresh, as when we first begun.

But yet, though love likes well such scenes as these,
There is an act that will more fully please;
Kissing and glancing, soothing, all make way
But to the acting of this private play;
Name it I would, but, being blushing red,
The rest I'le speak, when we meet both in bed.

THE ROCK OF RUBIES, AND THE QUARRIE OF

PEARLS.

SOME ask'd me where the Rubies grew,

And nothing I did say ;

But with my finger pointed to

The lips of Julia.

Some ask'd how Pearls did grow, and where ;

Then spoke I to my girle,

To part her lips, and shew me there

The quarelets of Pearl.

CONFORMITIE.

CONFORMITIE was ever knowne
A foe to dissolution;

Nor can we that a ruine call,

Whose crack gives crushing unto all.

TO THE KING, UPON HIS COMMING WITH HIS ARMY INTO THE WEST.

WELCOME, most welcome to our vowes and us,

Most great and universall Genius!

The drooping west, which hitherto has stood

As one, in long-lamented widowhood,
Looks like a bride now, or a bed of flowers,
Newly refresh't both by the sun and showers;
War, which before was horrid, now appears
Lovely in you, brave Prince of Cavaliers !
A deale of courage in each bosom springs
By your accesse, O you the best of Kings!
Ride on with all white omens, so that where
Your standard's up, we fix a conquest there.

UPON ROSES.

VNDER a lawne, then skyes more cleare,
Some ruffled Roses nestling were,
And snugging there, they seem'd to lye
As in a flowrie nunnery;

E