CCCCXXVII.

TO HIS CLOSET GODS.

When I go hence, ye closet gods, I fear
Never again to have ingression here;
Where I have had, whatever things could be
Pleasant and precious to my muse and me.
Besides rare sweets, I had a book which none
Could read the intext but myself alone;
About the cover of this book there went
A curious comely clean compartlement;
And in the midst, to grace it more, was set
A blushing pretty peeping rubelet;

But now 'tis closed; and being shut and seal'd,
Be it, O be it never more reveal'd!

Keep here still, closet gods, 'fore whom I've set Oblations oft of sweetest marmelet.

CCCCXXVIII.

TO HIS FRIEND, ON THE UNTUNEABLE TIMES.

Play I could once; but, gentle friend, you see
My harp hung up here on the willow tree.
Sing I could once; and bravely, too, inspire,
With luscious numbers, my melodious lyre.
Draw, I could once, although not stocks or stones,
Amphion-like men made of flesh and bones.
Whether I would; but, ah! I know not how
I feel in this my transmutation now.

Grief, my dear friend, has first my harp unstrung,
Wither'd my hand, and palsy-struck my tongue.

CCCCXXIX.

HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR.

Only a little more

I have to write,

Then I'll give o'er,

And bid the world good-night

'Tis but a flying minute That I must stay,

Or linger in it,

And then I must away.

O Time, that cut'st down all! And scarce leav'st here Memorial

Of any men that were.

How many lie forgot

In vaults beneath; And piece-meal rot Without a fame in death?

Behold this living stone
I rear for me,

Ne'er to be thrown

'Down, envious Time, by thee.

Pillars let some set up,

If so they please,

Here is my hope,

And my Pyramid.

CCCCXXX.

SAFETY TO LOOK TO ONE'S SELF.

For my neighbour, I'll not know
Whether high he builds or no;
Only this I'll look upon,
Firm be my foundation.
Sound or unsound let it be,
'Tis the lot ordain'd for me.
He who to the ground does fall,
Has not whence to sink at all.

CCCCXXXI.

NO SHIPWRECK OF VIRTUE. TO A FRIEND.

Thou sail'st with others in this Argos here,
Nor wreck or bulging thou hast cause to fear;
But trust to this, my noble passenger,

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

And 'midst a thousand gulfs to be secure.

CCCCXXXII.

THE CURSE. A SONG.

Go, perjured man; and if thou e'er return
To see the small remainders in mine urn;
When thou shalt laugh at my religious dust,
And ask, where's now the colour, form, and trust
Of woman's beauty? and with hand more rude
Rifle the flowers which the virgins strew'd;
Know, I have pray'd to Fury, that some wind
May blow my ashes up, and strike thee blind.

CCXXX.

NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY.

No man such rare parts hath, that he can swim If favour or occasion help not him.

CCXXXI.

THE PRESENT TIME BEST PLEASETH.

Praise, they that will, times past; I joy to see Myself now live; this age best pleaseth me.

CCXXXII.

BAD WAGES FOR GOOD SERVICE.

In this misfortune kings do most excel,
To hear the worst from men when they do well.

CCXXXIII.

CHOOSE FOR THE BEST.

Give house-room to the best; 'tis never known, Virtue and pleasure both to dwell in one.

CCXXXIV.

BAD MAY BE BETTER.

Man may at first transgress, but next do well; Vice doth in some but lodge a while, not dwell.

CCXXXV.

RULES FOR OUR REACH.

Men must have bounds how far to walk; for we Are made far worse by lawless liberty.

CCXXXVI.

MORE MODEST, MORE MANLY.

'Tis still observ'd, those men most valiant are That are most modest ere they come to war.

P

CLXVII.

HIS LOSS.

All has been plundered from me but my wit;
Fortune herself can lay no claim to it.

CLXVIII.

UPON LOVE.

Love is a circle, and an endless sphere;
From good to good, revolving here and there.

CLXIX.

LENITY.

'Tis the chirurgeon's praise, and height of art,
Not to cut off but cure the vicious part.

CLXX.

GRIEF.

Consider sorrows, how they are aright;
Grief, if 't be great, 'tis short; if long, 'tis light.

CLXXI.

COUNSEL.

'Twas Cæsar's saying; kings no less conquerors are By their wise counsel, than they be by war.

CLXXII.

MOST WORDS, LESS WORKS.

In desp'rate cases, all, or most are known
Commanders; few for execution.

CLXXIII.

DRAW AND DRINK.

Milk still your fountains and your springs; for why? The more they're drawn, the less they will grow dry.