Force from the phoenix, then, no rarity Of sex, to rob the creature; but from man, The king of creatures, take his parity With angels, Muse, to speak these: nothing can Illustrate these, but they Who the whole act express; All else, we see beside, are shadows, and go less. It is their grace and favor that makes seen, Whom they have chose, And set the mark upon, To give a greater name and title to- their own! Weston, their treasure, as their treasurer, That mine of wisdom, and of counsels deep, Great, 'say-master of state, who cannot err, But doth his carat, and just standard keep, In all the proved assays, And legal ways Of trials, to work down. Men's loves unto the laws, and laws to love the crown. And this well moved the judgment of the king Could soon espy What kind of waking man He had so highly set; and in what barbican. Stand there; for when a noble nature's raised, It brings friends joy, foes grief, posterity fame; In him the times, no less than prince, are praised, And by his rise, in active men, his name Doth emulation stir; To the dull a spur It is; to the envious meant A mere upbraiding grief, and torturing punish ment. See! now the chapel opens, where the king And bishop stay to consummate the rites; The holy prelate prays, then takes the ring, Asks first, Who gives her?-I, Charlesthen he plights One in the other's hand, Whilst they both stand Hearing their charge, and then The solemn choir cries, Joy! and they return, Amen. O happy bands! and thou more happy place, Which time shall not, Or cankered jealousy, With all corroding arts, be able to untie! The chapel empties, and thou mayst be gone Now, sun, and post away the rest of day; These two, now Holy Church hath made them one, Do long to make themselves so another way: There is a feast behind, To them of kind, Which their glad parents taught One to the other, long ere these to light were brought. Haste, haste, officious sun, and send them night Some hours before it should, that these may know All that their fathers and their mothers might And keep their fames Alive, which else would die; For fame keeps virtue up, and it posterity. The ignoble never lived, they were awhile Their names are not recorded on the file Of life, that fall so; Christians know their birth Alone, and such a race We pray may grace, Your fruitful spreading vine, But dare not ask our wish in language fescennine. Yet, as we may, we will; - with chaste desires, You find no cold There; but, renewed, say, After the last child born, This is our wedding Till day. you behold a race to fill your hall, A Richard, and a Jerome, by their names Upon a Thomas, or a Francis call; A Kate, a Frank, to honor their grand-dames, And 'tween their grandsire's thighs, Like pretty spies, Peep forth a gem; to see How each one plays his part, of the large pedigree! 114 114 These anticipations, unhappily, were not destined to be realized. Charles, the only male issue of this marriage, a young nobleman of great promise, entered the service of the And never may there want one of the stem, By this sun's noonstead's made So great, his body now alone projects the shade. They both are slipped to bed; shut fast the door, He's master of the office; yet no more Will last till day; Night and the sheets will show The longing couple all that elder lovers know. THE HUMBLE PETITION OF POOR BEN, TO TH' BEST OF MONARCHS, MASTERS, MEN, KING CHARLES. Doth most humbly show it, To your majesty, your poet: That whereas your royal father, James the blessed, pleased the rather, Duke of York, and was killed in an engagement with the - B. |