No More Learning

you, _1633:_ beames (by . . . you) _1633-69_]

[16 may, _Ed:_ may _1633-69_]

[22 you; _Ed:_ you, _1633-69_]

[24 amass'd, _1633_, _O'F:_ a masse _1635-69_, _N_, _TCD_]

[25-6 But you are gold, and Shee; . . . transubstantiates you;
_Ed:_ But you are gold, and Shee, . . . transubstantiates you,
_1633:_

but you are gold; and she,
Informed us, but transubstantiates you,

_1635-69_, _Chambers_ (_but no comma after_ and she _and colon
or full stop after_ you _1650-69_, _Chambers_)]

[33 see; _Ed:_ see, _1633-69_]

[37-9 (which being . . . are nam'd) _1635-69_]

[42 vaile] vale _1669_]

[43 ye _1633:_ you _1635-69_]

[47 doe so, _1635-69_, _O'F:_ doe _N_, _TCD:_ to you _1633_]

[48 due. ] due, _1633_]

[55 But _1633_, _N_, _O'F_, _TCD:_ And _1635-69_, _Chambers_]

[64 that] thar _1633_]

[66 or Speaker _1633:_ and Speaker _1635-69_]

[67 Notary,] notary, _1633_]




To M^r _T. W. _


All haile sweet Poët, more full of more strong fire,
Then hath or shall enkindle any spirit,
I lov'd what nature gave thee, but this merit
Of wit and Art I love not but admire;
Who have before or shall write after thee, 5
Their workes, though toughly laboured, will bee
Like infancie or age to mans firme stay,
Or earely and late twilights to mid-day.

Men say, and truly, that they better be
Which be envyed then pittied: therefore I, 10
Because I wish thee best, doe thee envie:
O wouldst thou, by like reason, pitty mee!
But care not for mee: I, that ever was
In Natures, and in Fortunes gifts, alas,
(Before thy grace got in the Muses Schoole 15
A monster and a begger,) am now a foole.

Oh how I grieve, that late borne modesty
Hath got such root in easie waxen hearts,
That men may not themselves, their owne good parts
Extoll, without suspect of surquedrie, 20
For, but thy selfe, no subject can be found
Worthy thy quill, nor any quill resound
Thy worth but thine: how good it were to see
A Poëm in thy praise, and writ by thee.

Now if this song be too'harsh for rime, yet, as 25
The Painters bad god made a good devill,
'Twill be good prose, although the verse be evill,
If thou forget the rime as thou dost passe.
Then write, that I may follow, and so bee
Thy debter, thy'eccho, thy foyle, thy zanee. 30
I shall be thought, if mine like thine I shape,
All the worlds Lyon, though I be thy Ape.


[To M^r T. W. : _P_, _S_, _W:_ To M. I. W. _1633-69_, _A18_,
_N_, _TCC_, _TCD:_ A Letter. To M^r T. W. _O'F:_ Ad amicum.
_S96:_ _no title_, _B_, _Cy_]

[1 more full] and full _1669_]

[2 any spirit, _1633_, _A18_, _Cy_, _N_, _P_, _TC_, _W:_ my
dull spirit, _1635-69_, _B_, _O'F_, _S_]

[3 this merit _1633_, _A18_, _Cy_, _N_, _P_, _S_, _TC_, _W:_
thy merit _1635-69_, _B_, _O'F_, _Chambers_]

[11 thee . . . thee] the . . . the _1669_]

[12 mee! _Ed:_ mee. _W:_ mee, _1633-69_]

[13 mee: _Ed:_ mee, _1633-69_

ever was] never was _B_, _P_, _S96_]

[14-16

In Natures, and in Fortunes gifts, alas,
(Before . . . and a begger,)

_Ed:_

In Natures, and in fortunes gifts, (alas,
Before thy grace got in the Muses Schoole)
A monster and a begger,

_1633_ (_some copies:_ _others read_ 15 Before by thy grace
_&c. _, _which is also the Grolier conjecture_), _A18_, _Cy_,
_N_, _P_, _S_, _TC_, _W_ (_but W and some of the other MSS.
have no brackets_):

In Natures, and in fortunes gifts, alas,
(But for thy grace got in the Muses Schoole)
A Monster and a beggar,

_1635-69_, _O'F_, _Chambers_

In fortunes, nor (or _S96_) in natures gifts alas,
But by thy grace, _&c. _

_B_, _S96_. _See note_]

[16 am now a foole. _Cy_, _O'F_, _P_, _S_, _S96_, _W:_ am a
foole. _1633-69_, _A18_, _B_, _N_, _TC_]

[23 worth _1669_, _B_, _Cy_, _O'F_, _P_, _S_, _S96_, _W:_ worke
_1633-54_, _A18_, _N_, _TC_]

[27 evill, _W:_ evill. _1633-69_, _Chambers_]

[28 passe. _W:_ passe, _1633-69_, _Chambers_]

[29 that I _1669_, _B_, _Cy_, _N_, _O'F_, _P_, _S_, _W:_ then
I _1633-54_, _A18_, _N_, _TC_]

[30 Thy debter, thy'eccho _1633-54:_ Thy eccho, thy debtor
_1669_

thy zanee. ] and thy Zanee. _A18_, _N_, _TC_]

[31 if . . . shape] _brackets_ _1635-69_]




To M _T. W. _


Hast thee harsh verse, as fast as thy lame measure
Will give thee leave, to him, my pain and pleasure.
I have given thee, and yet thou art too weake,
Feete, and a reasoning soule and tongue to speake.
Plead for me, and so by thine and my labour 5
I am thy Creator, thou my Saviour.
Tell him, all questions, which men have defended
Both of the place and paines of hell, are ended;
And 'tis decreed our hell is but privation
Of him, at least in this earths habitation: 10
And 'tis where I am, where in every street
Infections follow, overtake, and meete:
Live I or die, by you my love is sent,
And you'are my pawnes, or else my Testament.


[To M^r T. W. : _O'F_, _W:_ To M. T. W. _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_,
_TCC_, _TCD_]

[1 verse, _1669:_ verse _1633-54_]

[2 to him, my pain and pleasure. _W_, _and Chambers_ (_without
comma_): to him; My pain, and pleasure _1633-69:_ to him. My
pain and pleasure, _Grolier_]

[4 Feete, . . . soule _W:_ _no comma_ _1633:_ Feete . . . soule,
_1635-69_]

[5-6 _These lines only in W_]

[9 our] that _W_]

[14 And you'are _1633_, _A18_, _N_, _TC_, _W:_ You are
_1635-69_, _O'F_

pawnes] _om. with space_, _W_]




To M^r _T. W. _


Pregnant again with th'old twins Hope, and Feare,
Oft have I askt for thee, both how and where
Thou wert, and what my hopes of letters were;

As in our streets sly beggers narrowly
Watch motions of the givers hand and eye, 5
And evermore conceive some hope thereby.

And now thy Almes is given, thy letter'is read,
The body risen againe, the which was dead,
And thy poore starveling bountifully fed.

After this banquet my Soule doth say grace, 10
And praise thee for'it, and zealously imbrace
Thy love; though I thinke thy love in this case
To be as gluttons, which say 'midst their meat,
They love that best of which they most do eat.


[To M^r T. W. _O'F_, _W:_ To M. T. W. _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_,
_TCC_, _TCD_]

[5 Watch] Marke _W_

and eye, _A18_, _A23_, _N_, _O'F_, _TC_, _W:_ or eye,
_1633-69_]

[12 love; _Ed:_ love, _1633-69_]




To M^r _T. W. _


At once, from hence, my lines and I depart,
I to my soft still walks, they to my Heart;
I to the Nurse, they to the child of Art;

Yet as a firme house, though the Carpenter
Perish, doth stand: As an Embassadour 5
Lyes safe, how e'r his king be in danger:

So, though I languish, prest with Melancholy,
My verse, the strict Map of my misery,
Shall live to see that, for whose want I dye.

Therefore I envie them, and doe repent, 10
That from unhappy mee, things happy'are sent;
Yet as a Picture, or bare Sacrament,
Accept these lines, and if in them there be
Merit of love, bestow that love on mee.


[To M^r T. W. _W:_ An Old Letter. _D_, _H49:_ A Letter. _S96:_
Letter. _O'F:_ _no heading_, _and following the preceding
without any interval_, _1633_, _A18_, _N_, _TC:_ Incerto.
_1635-69_]

[5 As _W:_ as _1633-69_]

[7 Melancholy] Malancholy _1633_]

[14 of love,] of love _1633_]




To M^r _R. W. _


Zealously my Muse doth salute all thee,
Enquiring of that mistique trinitee
Whereof thou,'and all to whom heavens do infuse
Like fyer, are made; thy body, mind, and Muse.
Dost thou recover sicknes, or prevent? 5
Or is thy Mind travail'd with discontent?
Or art thou parted from the world and mee,
In a good skorn of the worlds vanitee?
Or is thy devout Muse retyr'd to sing
Vpon her tender Elegiaque string? 10
Our Minds part not, joyne then thy Muse with myne,
For myne is barren thus devorc'd from thyne.


[To M^r R. W. _A23_, _W:_ _first printed in Gosse's_ Life and
Letters of John Donne, _&c. _, 1899]

[1 thee,] thee _W_]




To M^r _R. W. _


Mvse not that by thy mind thy body is led:
For by thy mind, my mind's distempered.
So thy Care lives long, for I bearing part
It eates not only thyne, but my swolne hart.
And when it gives us intermission 5
We take new harts for it to feede upon.
But as a Lay Mans Genius doth controule
Body and mind; the Muse beeing the Soules Soule
Of Poets, that methinks should ease our anguish,
Although our bodyes wither and minds languish. 10
Wright then, that my griefes which thine got may bee
Cured by thy charming soveraigne melodee.


[M^r R. W. _A23_, _W:_ _printed here for the first time_]




To M^r _C. B. _


Thy friend, whom thy deserts to thee enchaine,
Urg'd by this unexcusable occasion,
Thee and the Saint of his affection
Leaving behinde, doth of both wants complaine;
And let the love I beare to both sustaine 5
No blott nor maime by this division,
Strong is this love which ties our hearts in one,
And strong that love pursu'd with amorous paine;
But though besides thy selfe I leave behind
Heavens liberall, and earths thrice-fairer Sunne, 10
Going to where sterne winter aye doth wonne,
Yet, loves hot fires, which martyr my sad minde,
Doe send forth scalding sighes, which have the Art
To melt all Ice, but that which walls her heart.


[To M^r C. B. : _A23_, _W:_ To M. C. B. _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_,
_O'F_, _TCC_, _TCD_]

[9 thy self] my self _1669_]

[10 liberall,] liberall _1633_

earths _1633_, _1669_, _A18_, _A23_, _N_, _O'F_, _TC_, _W:_
the _1635-54_, _Chambers_

thrice fairer _A23_, _W:_ thrice-faire _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_,
_TC_]

[11 sterne _1633_, _A18_, _A23_, _N_, _TC_, _W:_ sterv'd
_1633-69_, _O'F_]

[13 forth] out _A18_, _N_, _TC_]




To M^r _E. G. _


Even as lame things thirst their perfection, so
The slimy rimes bred in our vale below,
Bearing with them much of my love and hart,
Fly unto that Parnassus, where thou art.
There thou oreseest London: Here I have beene, 5
By staying in London, too much overseene.
Now pleasures dearth our City doth posses,
Our Theaters are fill'd with emptines;
As lancke and thin is every street and way
As a woman deliver'd yesterday. 10
Nothing whereat to laugh my spleen espyes
But bearbaitings or Law exercise.
Therefore I'le leave it, and in the Country strive
Pleasure, now fled from London, to retrive.
Do thou so too: and fill not like a Bee 15
Thy thighs with hony, but as plenteously
As Russian Marchants, thy selfes whole vessell load,
And then at Winter retaile it here abroad.
Blesse us with Suffolks sweets; and as it is
Thy garden, make thy hive and warehouse this. 20


[To M^r E. G. _W:_ _first printed in Gosse's_ Life and Letters
of John Donne, _&c. _ 1899]

[5-6 beene, . . . London,] _no commas_, _W_]

[6 staying] staing _W_]

[7 dearth] dirth _W_]

[7-8 posses, . . . emptines;] posses . . . emptines. _W_]




To M^r _R. W. _


If, as mine is, thy life a slumber be,
Seeme, when thou read'st these lines, to dreame of me,
Never did Morpheus nor his brother weare
Shapes soe like those Shapes, whom they would appeare,
As this my letter is like me, for it 5
Hath my name, words, hand, feet, heart, minde and wit;
It is my deed of gift of mee to thee,
It is my Will, my selfe the Legacie.
So thy retyrings I love, yea envie,
Bred in thee by a wise melancholy, 10
That I rejoyce, that unto where thou art,
Though I stay here, I can thus send my heart,
As kindly'as any enamored Patient
His Picture to his absent Love hath sent.

All newes I thinke sooner reach thee then mee; 15
Havens are Heavens, and Ships wing'd Angels be,
The which both Gospell, and sterne threatnings bring;
Guyanaes harvest is nip'd in the spring,
I feare; And with us (me thinkes) Fate deales so
As with the Jewes guide God did; he did show 20
Him the rich land, but bar'd his entry in:
Oh, slownes is our punishment and sinne.
Perchance, these Spanish businesse being done,
Which as the Earth betweene the Moone and Sun
Eclipse the light which Guyana would give, 25
Our discontinued hopes we shall retrive:
But if (as all th'All must) hopes smoake away,
Is not Almightie Vertue'an India?

If men be worlds, there is in every one
Some thing to answere in some proportion 30
All the worlds riches: And in good men, this,
Vertue, our formes forme and our soules soule, is.


[To M^r R. W. _A18_, _A23_, _N_, _O'F_, _TCC_, _TCD_, _W:_ To
M. R. W. _1633-69:_ _no breaks_, _W:__ two stanzas of fourteen
lines and a quatrain_, _1633:_ _twenty-eight lines continuous
and a quatrain_, _1633-69_]

[3 brother _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_, _O'F_, _TC:_ brethren _W_]

[6 hand,] hands _O'F_, _TC_]

[21 in: _1650-69_, _W:_ in, _1633-39_]

[22 Oh, _A23_, _N_, _O'F_, _TC:_ Ah, _W:_ Our _1633-69_

sinne. _W:_ sinne; _1633-69_]

[23 businesse _1633_, _A18_, _N_, _TC:_ busnesses _W:_
businesses _1635-69_

done] donne _W_]

[27 all th'All _W:_ All th'All _1633-69_]

[31 men, this, _Ed:_ men, this _1633-69_]

[32 soules soule, is. _Chambers:_ soules soule is. _1633-69_]




To M^r _R. W. _


Kindly I envy thy songs perfection
Built of all th'elements as our bodyes are:
That Litle of earth that is in it, is a faire
Delicious garden where all sweetes are sowne.
In it is cherishing fyer which dryes in mee 5
Griefe which did drowne me: and halfe quench'd by it
Are satirique fyres which urg'd me to have writt
In skorne of all: for now I admyre thee.
And as Ayre doth fullfill the hollownes
Of rotten walls; so it myne emptines, 10
Where tost and mov'd it did beget this sound
Which as a lame Eccho of thyne doth rebound.
Oh, I was dead; but since thy song new Life did give,
I recreated, even by thy creature, live.


[To M^r R. W. _W:_ _published here for the first time_]

[6 which] w^{ch} _W_, _and so always_]

[10 emptines,] emptines. _W_]

[13-14 Oh, . . . give, . . . recreated, . . . creature,] _no
commas_, _W_]




To M^r _S. B. _


O Thou which to search out the secret parts
Of the India, or rather Paradise
Of knowledge, hast with courage and advise
Lately launch'd into the vast Sea of Arts,
Disdaine not in thy constant travailing 5
To doe as other Voyagers, and make
Some turnes into lesse Creekes, and wisely take
Fresh water at the Heliconian spring;
I sing not, Siren like, to tempt; for I
Am harsh; nor as those Scismatiques with you, 10
Which draw all wits of good hope to their crew;
But seeing in you bright sparkes of Poetry,
I, though I brought no fuell, had desire
With these Articulate blasts to blow the fire.


[To M^r S. B. _O'F:_ To M. S. B. _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_, _TCC_,
_TCD_, _W_]

[10 harsh; _1650-69:_ harsh, _1633-39_]

[12 seeing] seing _1633:_ seene _TCD_, _W:_ seeme _TCC_]

[13 I, though] I thought _1650-54_

had] but _1650-54_]




To M^r _I. L. _


Of that short Roll of friends writ in my heart
Which with thy name begins, since their depart,
Whether in the English Provinces they be,
Or drinke of Po, Sequan, or Danubie,
There's none that sometimes greets us not, and yet 5
Your Trent is Lethe; that past, us you forget.
You doe not duties of Societies,
If from the'embrace of a lov'd wife you rise,
View your fat Beasts, stretch'd Barnes, and labour'd fields,
Eate, play, ryde, take all joyes which all day yeelds, 10
And then againe to your embracements goe:
Some houres on us your frends, and some bestow
Upon your Muse, else both wee shall repent,
I that my love, she that her guifts on you are spent.


[To M^r I. L. _W:_ To M. I. L. _1633-69:_ To M. I. L. _A18_,
_N_, _TCC_, _TCD:_ To M^r T. L.
_O'F_]

[5 sometimes] sometime _1635-39_, _Chambers_]

[6 Lethe; _W:_ Lethe', _1633-69_

forget. _1639-69_, _W:_ forget, _1633-35_]

[13 your] thy _W_]

[14 you] thee _W_

spent. ] spent _1633_]




To M^r _B. B. _


Is not thy sacred hunger of science
Yet satisfy'd? Is not thy braines rich hive
Fulfil'd with hony which thou dost derive
From the Arts spirits and their Quintessence?
Then weane thy selfe at last, and thee withdraw 5
From Cambridge thy old nurse, and, as the rest,
Here toughly chew, and sturdily digest
Th'immense vast volumes of our common law;
And begin soone, lest my griefe grieve thee too,
Which is, that that which I should have begun 10
In my youthes morning, now late must be done;
And I as Giddy Travellers must doe,
Which stray or sleepe all day, and having lost
Light and strength, darke and tir'd must then ride post.

If thou unto thy Muse be marryed, 15
Embrace her ever, ever multiply,
Be far from me that strange Adulterie
To tempt thee and procure her widowhed.
My Muse, (for I had one,) because I'am cold,
Divorc'd her selfe: the cause being in me, 20
That I can take no new in Bigamye,
Not my will only but power doth withhold.
Hence comes it, that these Rymes which never had
Mother, want matter, and they only have
A little forme, the which their Father gave; 25
They are prophane, imperfect, oh, too bad
To be counted Children of Poetry
Except confirm'd and Bishoped by thee.


[To M^r B. B. _O'F_, _W:_ To M. B. B. _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_,
_TCC_, _TCD_]

[12 I . . . Travellers _1650-69:_ I, . . . Travellers, _1633-39_]

[13 stray] stay _W:_ _compare_ Sat. III. 78]

[16 ever, ever multiply, _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_, _O'F_, _TC:_
still: encrease and multiply; _W_]

[18 widowhed. _W:_ widdowhood, _1633-39:_ widdowhood;
_1650-69_]

[19 Muse, _A18_, _N_, _O'F_, _TC_, _W:_ nurse, _1633-69_]

[20 selfe: _W:_ selfe, _1633-69_

in me, _1633-69:_ in me; _Grolier:_ in me. _Chambers_. _See
note_]




To M^r _I. L. _


Blest are your North parts, for all this long time
My Sun is with you, cold and darke'is our Clime:
Heavens Sun, which staid so long from us this yeare,
Staid in your North (I thinke) for she was there,
And hether by kinde nature drawne from thence, 5
Here rages, chafes, and threatens pestilence;
Yet I, as long as shee from hence doth staie,
Thinke this no South, no Sommer, nor no day.
With thee my kinde and unkinde heart is run,
There sacrifice it to that beauteous Sun: 10
And since thou art in Paradise and need'st crave
No joyes addition, helpe thy friend to save.
So may thy pastures with their flowery feasts,
As suddenly as Lard, fat thy leane beasts;
So may thy woods oft poll'd, yet ever weare 15
A greene, and when thee list, a golden haire;
So may all thy sheepe bring forth Twins; and so
In chace and race may thy horse all out goe;
So may thy love and courage ne'r be cold;
Thy Sonne ne'r Ward; Thy lov'd wife ne'r seem old;
But maist thou wish great things, and them attaine, 21
As thou telst her, and none but her, my paine.


[To M^r I. L. _Ed:_ To M. I. L. _A18_, _N_, _TCC_, _TCD_, _W:_
To M^r T. L. _O'F:_ To M. I. P. _1633-69_]

[6 rages, chafes, _Ed:_ rages chafes _1633-39:_ rages, chafes
_1650-69:_ rages, burnes, _W_]

[11-12 _these lines from W: they have not previously been
printed_]

[16 when thee list, _Ed:_ when thee list _1633_, _A18_, _N_,
_TC:_ (when she list) _1635-69_, _O'F:_ when thou wilt _W_]

[20 lov'd wife] fair wife _W_]

[22 her, . . . her, _Ed:_ her . . . her _1633:_ her, . . . her
_1635-69_]




To Sir _H. W. _ at his going Ambassador to _Venice_.


After those reverend papers, whose soule is
Our good and great Kings lov'd hand and fear'd name,
By which to you he derives much of his,
And (how he may) makes you almost the same,

A Taper of his Torch, a copie writ 5
From his Originall, and a faire beame
Of the same warme, and dazeling Sun, though it
Must in another Sphere his vertue streame:

After those learned papers which your hand
Hath stor'd with notes of use and pleasure too, 10
From which rich treasury you may command
Fit matter whether you will write or doe:

After those loving papers, where friends tend
With glad griefe, to your Sea-ward steps, farewel,
Which thicken on you now, as prayers ascend 15
To heaven in troupes at'a good mans passing bell:

Admit this honest paper, and allow
It such an audience as your selfe would aske;
What you must say at Venice this meanes now,
And hath for nature, what you have for taske: 20

To sweare much love, not to be chang'd before
Honour alone will to your fortune fit;
Nor shall I then honour your forture, more
Then I have done your honour wanting it.

But'tis an easier load (though both oppresse) 25
To want, then governe greatnesse, for wee are
In that, our owne and onely business,
In this, wee must for others vices care;

'Tis therefore well your spirits now are plac'd
In their last Furnace, in activity; 30
Which fits them (Schooles and Courts and Warres o'rpast)
To touch and test in any best degree.

For mee, (if there be such a thing as I)
Fortune (if there be such a thing as thee)
Spies that I beare so well her tyranny, 35
That she thinks nothing else so fit for mee;

But though she part us, to heare my oft prayers
For your increase, God is as neere mee here;
And to send you what I shall begge, his staires
In length and ease are alike every where. 40


[To Sir H. W. at his _&c. _ _1633-54:_ To Sir Henry Wotton, at
his _&c. _ _1669_, _A18_, _N_, _O'F_, _TCC_, _TCD:_ _printed in
Walton's_ Life of Sir Henry Wotton, 1670, _as a_ 'letter,
sent by him to Sir _Henry Wotton_, the morning before he left
_England_', _i. e. July 13 (O. S. ), 1604_]

[10 pleasure _1635-69_, _A18_, _N_, _O'F_, _TC_, _Walton:_
pleasures _1633_]

[13 where _1633_, _A18_, _N_, _TC:_ which _1635-69_, _O'F_,
_Walton_]

[16 in troupes] on troops _Walton_]

[19 must . . . meanes] would . . . sayes _Walton_]

[20 hath] has _Walton_

taske: _Ed:_ taske. _1633-69_]

[21 not] nor _Walton_]

[24 honour wanting it _1633:_ noble-wanting-wit. _1635-69_,
_O'F:_ honour-wanting-wit. _Walton:_ noble wanting it. _A18_,
_N_, _TCC_, _TCD_]

[31 Warres _Ed:_ warres _1633-69:_ tents _Burley MS. _]

[32 test] tast _1669 and Walton_]

[35 Spies] Finds _Walton_]




To M^rs _M. H. _


Mad paper stay, and grudge not here to burne
With all those sonnes whom my braine did create,
At lest lye hid with mee, till thou returne
To rags againe, which is thy native state.

What though thou have enough unworthinesse 5
To come unto great place as others doe,
That's much; emboldens, pulls, thrusts I confesse,
But'tis not all; Thou should'st be wicked too.

And, that thou canst not learne, or not of mee;
Yet thou wilt goe? Goe, since thou goest to her 10
Who lacks but faults to be a Prince, for shee,
Truth, whom they dare not pardon, dares preferre.

But when thou com'st to that perplexing eye
Which equally claimes _love_ and _reverence_,
Thou wilt not long dispute it, thou wilt die; 15
And, having little now, have then no sense.

Yet when her warme redeeming hand, which is
A miracle; and made such to worke more,
Doth touch thee (saples leafe) thou grow'st by this
Her creature; glorify'd more then before. 20

Then as a mother which delights to heare
Her early child mis-speake halfe uttered words,
Or, because majesty doth never feare
Ill or bold speech, she Audience affords.

And then, cold speechlesse wretch, thou diest againe, 25
And wisely; what discourse is left for thee?
For, speech of ill, and her, thou must abstaine,
And is there any good which is not shee?

Yet maist thou praise her servants, though not her,
And wit, and vertue,'and honour her attend, 30
And since they'are but her cloathes, thou shalt not erre,
If thou her shape and beauty'and grace commend.

Who knowes thy destiny? when thou hast done,
Perchance her Cabinet may harbour thee,
Whither all noble ambitious wits doe runne, 35
A nest almost as full of Good as shee.

When thou art there, if any, whom wee know,
Were sav'd before, and did that heaven partake,
When she revolves his papers, marke what show
Of favour, she alone, to them doth make. 40

Marke, if to get them, she o'r skip the rest,
Marke, if shee read them twice, or kisse the name;
Marke, if she doe the same that they protest,
Marke, if she marke whether her woman came.

Marke, if slight things be'objected, and o'r blowne, 45
Marke, if her oathes against him be not still
Reserv'd, and that shee grieves she's not her owne,
And chides the doctrine that denies Freewill.

I bid thee not doe this to be my spie;
Nor to make my selfe her familiar; 50
But so much I doe love her choyce, that I
Would faine love him that shall be lov'd of her.


[To M^rs M. H. _O'F:_ To M. M. H. _1633-69_, _A18_, _N_,
_TCC_, _TCD:_ _no title_, _A25_, _B_, _C_, _P:_ Elegie. _S96_]

[2 sonnes] Sunnes _B_, _S96_

my _1633:_ thy _1635-69:_ _Chambers attributes_ thy _to 1633_]

[3 returne] returne. _1633_]

[7 That's much; emboldens, _A18_, _N_, _TC:_ That's much,
emboldens, _1633-54:_ That's much emboldness, _1669:_ That's
much, it emboldens, _B_, _P_]

[8 all; Thou _A18_, _N_, _TC:_ all, thou _1633-69_]

[10 goe? Goe, _Ed:_ goe, Goe, _1633-69_]

[14 _reverence_, _Ed:_ _reverence_. _1633:_ _reverence:_
_1635-69_]

[22 mis-speake] mispeake _1633_]

[27 For, _1633:_ From _1635-69_, _and MSS_.

her, _Ed:_ her _1633-69_]

[31 erre, _1669:_ erre _1633-54_]

[40 she alone, _1633:_ she, alone, _1635-69_]

[41 get them, she o'r skip] get them, she do skip _A18_
(doth), _N_, _TC:_ get them, she skip oare _A25_, _C_, _O'F_
(skips): get to them, shee skipp _B_, _P_]

[44 whether _1633:_ whither _1635-69_]

[47 grieves _1633:_ grieve _1635-69_]




_To the Countesse of Bedford. _


Honour is so sublime perfection,
And so refinde; that when God was alone
And creaturelesse at first, himselfe had none;

But as of the elements, these which wee tread,
Produce all things with which wee'are joy'd or fed, 5
And, those are barren both above our head:

So from low persons doth all honour flow;
Kings, whom they would have honoured, to us show,
And but _direct_ our honour, not _bestow_.

For when from herbs the pure part must be wonne 10
From grosse, by Stilling, this is better done
By despis'd dung, then by the fire or Sunne.

Care not then, Madame,'how low your praysers lye;
In labourers balads oft more piety
God findes, then in _Te Deums_ melodie. 15

And, ordinance rais'd on Towers, so many mile
Send not their voice, nor last so long a while
As fires from th'earths low vaults in _Sicil_ Isle.

Should I say I liv'd darker then were true,
Your radiation can all clouds subdue; 20
But one,'tis best light to contemplate you.

You, for whose body God made better clay,
Or tooke Soules stuffe such as shall late decay,
Or such as needs small change at the last day.

This, as an Amber drop enwraps a Bee, 25
Covering discovers your quicke Soule; that we
May in your through-shine front your hearts thoughts see.

You teach (though wee learne not) a thing unknowne
To our late times, the use of specular stone,
Through which all things within without were shown. 30

Of such were Temples; so and of such you are;
_Beeing_ and _seeming_ is your equall care,
And _vertues_ whole _summe_ is but _know_ and _dare_.

But as our Soules of growth and Soules of sense
Have birthright of our reasons Soule, yet hence 35
They fly not from that, nor seeke presidence:

Natures first lesson, so, discretion,
Must not grudge zeale a place, nor yet keepe none,
Not banish it selfe, nor religion.

Discretion is a wisemans Soule, and so 40
Religion is a Christians, and you know
How these are one; her _yea_, is not her _no_.

Nor may we hope to sodder still and knit
These two, and dare to breake them; nor must wit
Be colleague to religion, but be it. 45

In those poor types of God (round circles) so
Religions tipes the peeclesse centers flow,
And are in all the lines which all wayes goe.

If either ever wrought in you alone
Or principally, then religion 50
Wrought your ends, and your wayes discretion.

Goe thither stil, goe the same way you went,
Who so would change, do covet or repent;
Neither can reach you, great and innocent.


[To the Countesse of Bedford. _1633-69_, _B_, _O'F_, _S96:_ To
the Countess of B. _N_, _TCD_]

[10 part] parts _N_, _O'F_, _TCD_]

[12 or Sunne. _1633_, _B_, _N_, _O'F_, _S96_, _TCD:_ or Sun:
_1669:_ of Sunne: _1635-54_, _Chambers_]

[13 praysers _N_, _O'F_, _TCD:_ prayers _S96:_ prayses
_1633-69_]

[16 Towers,] Towers _1633_]

[20-1 subdue; But one, _Ed:_ subdue; But One _Chambers:_
subdue, But one, _1633-69:_ subdue But one; _Grolier and
Grosart_. _See note_]

[26 Covering discovers] Coverings discover _1669_]

[27 your hearts thoughts _B_, _N_, _O'F_, _S96_, _TCD:_ our
hearts thoughts _1633-69_. _See note_]

[31 so and of such _N_, _TCD:_ so and such _1633-69_, _B_,
_O'F_, _S96_]

[33 is but to know and dare. _N_]

[36-7

They fly not from that, nor seeke presidence:
Natures first lesson, so, discretion, _&c. _

_1633-69_ (presidence. _1633_; precedence: _1669_)

They fly not from that, nor seek precedence,
Natures first lesson; so discretion _&c. _

_Chambers and Grolier_ (discretion, _Grolier_). _See note_]

[40-2] _These lines precede_ 34-9 _in_ _1635-69_, _B_, _N_,
_S96_, _TCD:_ _om. O'F_]

[42 one; _Ed:_ one, _1633-69_ _yea, . . . no_] _ital. Ed. _]

[48 all wayes _1719:_ alwayes _1633-69_]

[50-1

'twas Religion,
Yet you neglected not Discretion.

_S96_]

[53 do covet] doth covet _1669_, _O'F_, _S96_]




_To the Countesse of_ Bedford.

_Begun in France but never perfected. _


Though I be _dead_, and buried, yet I have
(Living in you,) Court enough in my grave,
As oft as there I thinke my selfe to bee,
So many resurrections waken mee.
That thankfullnesse your favours have begot 5
In mee, embalmes mee, that I doe not rot.
This season as 'tis Easter, as 'tis spring,
Must both to growth and to confession bring
My thoughts dispos'd unto your influence; so,
These verses bud, so these confessions grow. 10
First I confesse I have to others lent
Your flock, and over prodigally spent
Your treasure, for since I had never knowne
Vertue or beautie, but as they are growne
In you, I should not thinke or say they shine, 15
(So as I have) in any other Mine.
Next I confesse this my confession,
For, 'tis some fault thus much to touch upon
Your praise to you, where half rights seeme too much,
And make your minds sincere complexion blush. 20
Next I confesse my'impenitence, for I
Can scarce repent my first fault, since thereby
Remote low Spirits, which shall ne'r read you,
May in lesse lessons finde enough to doe,
By studying copies, not Originals, 25
_Desunt cætera. _


[To the Countesse _&c. _ _1633-69_ (_following in 1635-69_ That
unripe side _&c. _, _p. _ 417, _and_ If her disdaine _&c. _, _p. _
430), _O'F_]

[5 begot] forgot _1633 some copies_]

[6 embalmes mee, _Ed_: embalmes mee; _1633-69_

rot. _Ed_: rot; _1633-69_]

[9 influence; _Ed_: influence, _1633-69_]

[10 grow. _Ed_: grow; _1633-69_]

[14 or _1633-39_: and _1650-69_]

[16 Mine. _Ed:_ Mine; _1633-69_]

[18 upon _Ed:_ upon, _1633-69_]




_A Letter to the Lady_ Carey, _and M^rs_ Essex Riche, _From_ Amyens.


MADAME,

Here where by All All Saints invoked are,
'Twere too much schisme to be singular,
And 'gainst a practise generall to warre.

Yet turning to Saincts, should my'humility
To other Sainct then you directed bee, 5
That were to make my schisme, heresie.

Nor would I be a Convertite so cold,
As not to tell it; If this be too bold,
Pardons are in this market cheaply sold.

Where, because Faith is in too low degree, 10
I thought it some Apostleship in mee
To speake things which by faith alone I see.

That is, of you, who are a firmament
Of virtues, where no one is growne, or spent,
They'are your materials, not your ornament. 15

Others whom wee call vertuous, are not so
In their whole substance, but, their vertues grow
But in their humours, and at seasons show.

For when through tastlesse flat humilitie
In dow bak'd men some harmelessenes we see, 20
'Tis but his _flegme_ that's _Vertuous_, and not Hee:

Soe is the Blood sometimes; who ever ran
To danger unimportun'd, he was than
No better then a _sanguine_ Vertuous man.

So cloysterall men, who, in pretence of feare 25
All contributions to this life forbeare,
Have Vertue in _Melancholy_, and only there.

Spirituall _Cholerique_ Crytiques, which in all
Religions find faults, and forgive no fall,
Have, through this zeale, Vertue but in their Gall. 30

We'are thus but parcel guilt; to Gold we'are growne
When Vertue is our Soules complexion;
Who knowes his Vertues name or place, hath none.

Vertue'is but aguish, when 'tis severall,
By occasion wak'd, and circumstantiall. 35
True vertue is _Soule_, Alwaies in all deeds _All_.

This Vertue thinking to give dignitie
To your soule, found there no infirmitie,
For, your soule was as good Vertue, as shee;

Shee therefore wrought upon that part of you 40
Which is scarce lesse then soule, as she could do,
And so hath made your beauty, Vertue too.

Hence comes it, that your Beauty wounds not hearts,
As Others, with prophane and sensuall Darts,
But as an influence, vertuous thoughts imparts. 45

But if such friends by the honor of your sight
Grow capable of this so great a light,
As to partake your vertues, and their might,

What must I thinke that influence must doe,
Where it findes sympathie and matter too, 50
Vertue, and beauty of the same stuffe, as you?

Which is, your noble worthie sister, shee
Of whom, if what in this my Extasie
And revelation of you both I see,

I should write here, as in short Galleries 55
The Master at the end large glasses ties,
So to present the roome twice to our eyes,

So I should give this letter length, and say
That which I said of you; there is no way
From either, but by the other, not to stray. 60

May therefore this be enough to testifie
My true devotion, free from flattery;
He that beleeves himselfe, doth never lie.


[A Letter to _&c. _ _1633-69_, _D_, _H49_, _Lec:_ To the Lady
Carey and her Sister M^rs Essex Rich. From Amiens. _O'F:_
To the Lady Co: of C. _N_, _TCD:_ To the Ladie Carey. _or_ A
Letter to the Ladie Carey. _B_, _Cy_, _S96:_ _no title_, _P:_
To M^rs Essex Rich and her sister frô Amiens. _M_]

[13 who are] who is _1633_]

[19 humilitie _1633-54_, _B_, _Cy_, _D_, _H49_, _Lec_, _M_,
_N_, _O'F_, _P_, _S96_, _TCD:_ humidity _1669_, _Chambers_]

[26 contributions] contribution _B_, _D_, _N_, _TCD_]

[30 this zeale, _1635-69_, _B_, _Cy_, _D_, _H49_, _N_, _O'F_,
_P_, _S96_, _TCD:_ their zeale, _1633_, _Lec_]

[31 Gold] Golds _1633 some copies_]

[33 aguish,] anguish, _1650-54_]

[57 our eyes,] your eyes, _Cy_, _D_, _H49_, _Lec_, _P_]

[60 by the] to the _1669_

other, _1669:_ other _1633-54_]




_To the Countesse of Salisbury. _ August. 1614.


Faire, great, and good, since seeing you, wee see
What Heaven can doe, and what any Earth can be:
Since now your beauty shines, now when the Sunne
Growne stale, is to so low a value runne,
That his disshevel'd beames and scattered fires 5
Serve but for Ladies Periwigs and Tyres
In lovers Sonnets: you come to repaire
Gods booke of creatures, teaching what is faire.
Since now, when all is withered, shrunke, and dri'd,
All Vertues ebb'd out to a dead low tyde, 10
All the worlds frame being crumbled into sand,
Where every man thinks by himselfe to stand,
Integritie, friendship, and confidence,
(Ciments of greatnes) being vapor'd hence,
And narrow man being fill'd with little shares, 15
Court, Citie, Church, are all shops of small-wares,
All having blowne to sparkes their noble fire,
And drawne their sound gold-ingot into wyre;
All trying by a love of littlenesse
To make abridgments, and to draw to lesse, 20
Even that nothing, which at first we were;
Since in these times, your greatnesse doth appeare,
And that we learne by it, that man to get
Towards him that's infinite, must first be great.
Since in an age so ill, as none is fit 25
So much as to accuse, much lesse mend it,
(For who can judge, or witnesse of those times
Where all alike are guiltie of the crimes? )
Where he that would be good, is thought by all
A monster, or at best fantasticall; 30
Since now you durst be good, and that I doe
Discerne, by daring to contemplate you,
That there may be degrees of faire, great, good,
Through your light, largenesse, vertue understood:
If in this sacrifice of mine, be showne 35
Any small sparke of these, call it your owne.
And if things like these, have been said by mee
Of others; call not that Idolatrie.
For had God made man first, and man had seene
The third daies fruits, and flowers, and various greene, 40
He might have said the best that he could say
Of those faire creatures, which were made that day;
And when next day he had admir'd the birth
Of Sun, Moone, Stars, fairer then late-prais'd earth,
Hee might have said the best that he could say, 45
And not be chid for praising yesterday;
So though some things are not together true,
As, that another is worthiest, and, that you:
Yet, to say so, doth not condemne a man,
If when he spoke them, they were both true than. 50
How faire a proofe of this, in our soule growes?
Wee first have soules of growth, and sense, and those,
When our last soule, our soule immortall came,
Were swallowed into it, and have no name.
Nor doth he injure those soules, which doth cast 55
The power and praise of both them, on the last;
No more doe I wrong any; I adore
The same things now, which I ador'd before,
The subject chang'd, and measure; the same thing
In a low constable, and in the King 60
I reverence; His power to work on mee:
So did I humbly reverence each degree
Of faire, great, good; but more, now I am come
From having found their _walkes_, to find their _home_.
And as I owe my first soules thankes, that they 65
For my last soule did fit and mould my clay,
So am I debtor unto them, whose worth,
Enabled me to profit, and take forth
This new great lesson, thus to study you;
Which none, not reading others, first, could doe. 70
Nor lacke I light to read this booke, though I
In a darke Cave, yea in a Grave doe lie;
For as your fellow Angells, so you doe
Illustrate them who come to study you.
The first whom we in Histories doe finde 75
To have profest all Arts, was one borne blinde:
He lackt those eyes beasts have as well as wee,
Not those, by which Angels are seene and see;
So, though I'am borne without those eyes to live,
Which fortune, who hath none her selfe, doth give, 80
Which are, fit meanes to see bright courts and you,
Yet may I see you thus, as now I doe;
I shall by that, all goodnesse have discern'd,
And though I burne my librarie, be learn'd.


[To the Countesse _&c. _ _1633-69_, _D_, _H49_, _Lec:_ To
the Countess of Salisbury. _O'F:_ To the Countess of S. _N_,
_TCD_]

[2 and what _1633_, _1669_, _D_, _H49_, _Lec:_ what _1635-54_,
_N_, _O'F_, _TCD_]

[16 Court,] Courts, _1669_]

[17 noble fire,] nobler fire, _O'F_]

[24 him] him, _1633_

that's _1650-69:_ thats _1633-39_]

[29-30 _Chambers includes in parenthesis_]

[30 fantasticall; _Ed:_ fantasticall: _1633-69_]

[34 light, largenesse,] lights largeness, _1669_]

[38 Idolatrie. ] Adulterie: _N_, _TCD_]

[40 greene,] greene _1633_]

[42 day; _Ed:_ day: _1633-69_]

[46 yesterday; _Ed:_ yesterday: _1633-69_]

[54 name. _1633-39:_ name _1654-69_]

[57 any; I adore _1633_, _D_, _Lec_, _N_, _TCD:_ any, if I
adore _1635-69_, _O'F_ (if _being inserted_)]

[61 mee: _D_, _N_, _TCD:_ mee; _1633-69_]

[63 good; _Ed:_ good, _1633-69_]

[77-8 _om. _ _D_, _H49_, _Lec_]




_To the Lady Bedford. _


You that are she and you, that's double shee,
In her dead face, halfe of your selfe shall see;
Shee was the other part, for so they doe
Which build them friendships, become one of two;
So two, that but themselves no third can fit, 5
Which were to be so, when they were not yet;
Twinnes, though their birth _Cusco_, and _Musco_ take,
As divers starres one Constellation make;
Pair'd like two eyes, have equall motion, so
Both but one meanes to see, one way to goe. 10
Had you dy'd first, a carcasse shee had beene;
And wee your rich Tombe in her face had seene;
She like the Soule is gone, and you here stay,
Not a live friend; but th'other halfe of clay.