To the richest TREASURY
That e'er fill'd ambitious eye;
To the fair bright MAGAZINE
Hath impoverish'd Love's queen;
To th' EXCHEQUER of all honour,
(All take pensions but from her)
To the TAPER of the thore
Which the God himself but bore;
To the SEA of chaste delight
Let me cast the DROP I write.
And as at LORETTO's shrine CESAR shovels in his mine,
Th' Empress spreads her carcanets,
The Lords submit their coronets;
Knights their chased arms hang by,
Maids diamond-ruby fancies tie;
Whilst from the PILGRIM she wears
One poor false pearl, but ten true tears:
So among the orient prize, (Saphyr-onyx eulogies)
Offer'd up unto your fame:
Take my GARNET-DOUBLET name,
And vouchsafe 'midst those rich joys
With devotion these TOYS.
Now y'have oblig'd the age, thy well-known worth
Is to our joy auspiciously brought forth.
Good-morrow to thy son, thy first-born flame,
Which as thou gav'st it birth, stamps it a name;
That fate, and a discerning age shall set
The chiefest jewel in her coronet.
Why then needs all this pains, those season'd pens, That standing lifeguard to a book, (kind friends) That with officious care thus guard thy gate,
As if thy child were illigitimate.
Forgive their freedom, since unto their praise
They write to give, not to dispute thy bays.
As when some glorious queen, whose pregnant womb
Brings forth a kingdom, with her first-born son;
Mark but the subjects' joyful hearts, and eyes,
Some offer gold, and others sacrifice;
This slays a lamb, that not so rich as he,
Brings but a dove, this but a bended knee;
And though their gifts be various, yet their sense Speaks only this one thought, long live the prince, So, my best brother, if unto your name
I offer up a thin blue burning flame;
Pardon my love, since none can make thee shine;
Unless they kindle first their torch at thine:
Then as inspir'd, they boldly write, nay that,
Which their amazed lights but twinkl'd at,
And their illustrate thoughts do voice this right,
Lucasta held their torch, thou gav'st it light.
En puer Idalius tremulis circumvolat alis,
Quem propè sidentem cartior uret amor.
Lampada sic videas circum volitare Pyraustan,
Cui centingenti est flamma futura rogus.
Ergo procul fugias, Lector, cui nulla placebunt
Carmina, ni fuerint turpia, spurca, nigra.
Sacrificus Romæ lustralem venditat undam:
Castior est illà Castalis unda mihi:
Limpida, et vingivs, nullâ putredine spissa,
Scilicet ex puro defluit illa Iugo.
Ex pura veniunt tam dîa poemata mente,
Cui scelus est Veneris, vel tetigisse fores.
THO. HAMERSLEY, Eques Avratus.
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