UPON JOLLIE'S WIFE.

FIRST, Jollie's wife is lame; then next, loose-hipt;
Squint-ey'd, hook-nos'd, and lastly, kidney-lipt.

TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS
GRAY HAIRES.

Am I despis'd, because you say,
And I dare sweare, that I am gray?
Know, lady, you have but your day:
And time will come when you shall weare
Such frost and snow upon your haire.
And when, though long, it comes to passe,
You question with your looking-glasse;

And in that sincere christall seek,
But find no rose-bud in your cheek,

Nor any bed to give the shew

Where such a rare carnation grew;

Ah! then too late, close in your chamber keeping,
It will be told

That you are old

By those true teares y'are weeping.

1

TO CEDARS.

IF mongst my many poems, I can see One onely worthy to be washt by thee, I live for ever; let the rest all lye In dennes of darkness, or condemn'd to die.

UPON CUPID.

LOVE like a gypsie lately came,
And did me much importune
To see my hand, that by the same
He might foretell my fortune.

He saw my palme; and then said he,
I tell thee, by this score here,
That thou within few months shalt be
The youthful Prince d'Amour here.

I smil'd, and bade him once more prove,
And by some crosse-line show it,
That I co'd ne'er be Prince of Love,

Though here the princely poet.

HOW PRIMROSES CAME GREEN.

VIRGINS, time-past, known were these,
Troubled with green-sicknesses:
Turned to flowers, stil the hieu,
Sickly girles, they beare of you.

TO JOS. LO. BISHOP OF EXETER.

WHOм sho'd I feare to write to, if I can
Stand before you, my learn'd Diocesan,
And never show blood-guiltinesse, or feare
To see my lines excathedrated here ?

Since none so good are, but you may condemne;
Or here so bad, but you may pardon them.
If then, my Lord, to sanctifie my muse

One onely poem out of all you'l chuse,
And mark it for a rapture nobly writ,-
'Tis good confirm'd, for you have bishop't it.

UPON A BLACK TWIST, ROUNDING THE ARME OF THE COUNTESSE OF CARLILE.

I SAW about her spotlesse wrist,
Of blackest silk a curious twist;
Which, circumvolving gently, there
Enthrall'd her arme as prisoner.

Dark was the jayle, but as if light
Had met t'engender with the night;
Or so as darknesse made a stay
To show at once both night and day.
I fancie more; but if there be
Such freedom in captivity,

I beg of Love that ever I

May in like chains of darknesse lie.

ON HIMSELFE.

I FEAR no earthly powers,

But care for crowns of flowers;
And love to have my beard

With wine and oile besmear'd.
This day Ile drowne all sorrow;
Who knowes to live to-morrow?

UPON PAGGET.

PAGGET, a school-boy, got a sword, and then
He vow'd destruction both to birch and men.
Who wo'd not think this yonker fierce to fight?
Yet comming home but somewhat late last night,
Untrusse, his Master bade him; and that word
Made him take up his shirt, lay down his sword.

A RING PRESENTED TO JULIA.

JULIA, I bring

To thee this ring,

Made for thy finger fit;
To shew by this,

That our love is,

Or sho'd be, like to it.

Close though it be,

The joynt is free:

So when love's yoke is on,

It must not gall,

Or fret at all

With hard oppression.

But it must play

Still either way;

And be, too, such a yoke,

As not too wide,

To over-slide,

Or be so strait to choak.

So we, who beare

This beame, must reare

Our selves to such a height,

As that the stay

Of either may

Create the burden light.