HYMN IX.

TO FLORA.

E MPRESS of flow'rs, tell where away
L ies your sweet court this May,
In Greenwich garden alleys:
Since there the heav'nly pow'rs do play
A nd haunt no other valleys.

HYMN VI.

TO THE NIGHTINGALE. E v'ry night from ev'n to morn, Love's chorister amid the thorn Is now so sweet a singer, So sweet, as for her song I scorn A pollo's voice and finger. B at nightingale, sith you delight E ver to watch the starry night, Tell all the stars of Heaven, Hearen never had a star so bright, A s now to Earth is given. Royal Astrea makes our day Eternal with her beams, nor may Gross darkness overcome her; I now perceive why some do write, No country hath so short a night, As England hath in summer.

B eauty, Virtue, Majesty,
E loquent. Muses, three times three,
The new fresh Hours, and Graces,
Have pleasure in this place to be,
A bove all other places.
Roses and lilies did them draw,
E re they divine Astrea,saw,
G ay flow'rs they sought for pleasure :
I nstead of gath'ring crowns of Aow'rs,
Now gather they Astrea's dowers,
A nd bear to Hear'n that treasure.

HYMN VII.

TO THE ROSE.

Eye of the garden, queen of flow'rs
Love's cup wherein lie nectar's pow'rs,
I ngender'd first of nectar:
S weet nurse-child of the spring's young hours,
A nd beauty's fair character.
B less'd jewel that the Earth doth wear,
E'en when the brave young Sun draws near,
To her hot love pretending;
Himself likewise like form doth bear,
At rising and descending.
Rose of the queen of love belov'd;
England's great kings divinely mov'd,
Gave roses in their banner; .
It show'd that beauty's rose indeed,
Now in this age should them succeed,
A ad reign in more sweet manner.

HYMN X.

TO THE MONTH OF SEPTEMBER. E ach month hath praise in some degree ; L et May to others seem to be In sense the sweetest season ; September thou art best to me, And best doth please my reason. B ut neither for thy corn nor wine E xtol I those mild days of thine, Though corn and wine might praise thee, Heav'n gives thee bonour more divine, A nd higher fortunes raise thee. Renown'd art thou (sweet month) for this, E mong thy days her birth-day is, G race, Plenty, Peace, and Honour, In one fair hour with her were born, Now since they still her crown adora, A nd still attend upon her.

HYMN XI.

TO THE SUN. Eye of the world, fountain of light, L ife of day, and death of night, I humbly seek thy kindness : S weet, dazzle not my feeble sight, A nd strike me not with blindness. B ehold me mildly from that face, E'en where thou now dost run thy race, The sphere where now thou turnest; Having like Phaeton chang'd thy place, A nd yet hearts only burnest. R ed in her right cheek thou dost rise, E xalted after in her eyes, G reat glory there thou showest : In th’ other cheek when thou descendest, N ew redness unto it thou lendest, A nd so thy round thou goest.

HYMN XIV.

OF THE SUN-BEAMS OF HER MIND E XCEEDING glorious is this star, 'L et us behold her beams afar In a side line reflected; Sight bears them not, when near they are, A nd in right lines directed. Behold her, in her virtue's beams, Extending sun-like to all realms; The Sun none views too nearly : H er well of goodness in these streams, A ppears right well avd clearly. R adiant virtues, if your light E nfeeble the best judgment's sight, Great splendour above measure Is in the mind, from whence you flow : No wit may have access to know, A pd view so bright a treasure.

HYMN XII.

TO HER PICTURE. E XTREME was his andacity, Little his skill that finish'd thee; I am asham'd and sorry, So dull her counterfeit should be, A nd she so full of glory.

HYMN XV.

OP HER WIT. E ve of that mind most quick and clear, Like Heaven's eye which from his sphere I nto all things pryeth, S ees through all things ev'ry where, A nd all their natures trieth.

But here are colours red and white,
E ach line and each proportion right ;
These lines, this red and whiteness,
Have wanting yet a life and light,
A majesty, and brightness.
R ude counterfeit, I then did err,
E'en now when I would needs infer
Great boldness in thy maker :
I did mistake, he was not bold,
N or durst his eyes her eyes behold,
A nd this made him mistake her.

B right image of an angel's wit,
E xceeding sharp aud swift like it,
T hings instantly discerning:
Having a nature infinite,
A nd yet increas'd by learning.
Rebound upon thyself thy light,
E njoy thine own sweet precious sight
Give us but some reflection;
It is enough for us if we,
Now in her speech, now policy,
A dmire thine high perfection.

HYMN XVI.

OF HER WILL.

E ver well affeeted will,
Loving goodness, loathing ill,
I nestimable treasure !
Since such a power bath power to spill,
A nd save us at her pleasure.

HYMN XIII.

OP HER MIND. E ARTH, now adieu, my ravish'd thought. Lifted to Heav'o sets thee at naught; I nfinite is my longing, Secrets of angels to be taught, A nd things to Heav'n belonging. Brought down from Heav'n of angels kind, E v'n now I do admire her mind, This is my contemplation, Her clear sweet spirit which is refin'd, A bove human creation. Rich sun-beam of th' eternal light, E xcellent soul, how shall I write ; Good angels make ine able; I cannot see but by yoаr eye, N or, but by your tongue, signify A thing so admirable.

B e thou our law, sweet will, and say,
E v'n what thou wilt, we will obey
This law; if I could read it,
H erein would I spend night and day,
A nd study still to plead it.
Royal free-will, and only free,
Each other will is slave to thee;
G lad is each will to serve thee:
In thee such princely pow'rs is seen,
N o spirit but takes thee for her queen,
A nd thinks she must observe thee.

HYMN XVII.

OP HER MEMORY. EXCELLENT jewels would you see, Lovely ladies come with me, I will (for love I owe you) S how you as rich a treasury, A s east or west can show you. Behold, if you can judge of it, E r'n that great store-bouse of her wit, T hat beautiful large table, H er memory, wherein is writ A ll knowledge admirable. Read this fair book, and you shall learn E xquisite skill; if you discern, Gain Heav'n by this discerning; In such a memory divine, Nature did form the Muses nine, A nd Pallas, queen of learning.

HYMN XX.

OF THE PASSIONS OP HER HEART. E XAMINE not th' inscrutable heart, Light Muse of her, though she in part I mpart it to the subject; Search not, although from Heav'n thou art, A nd this an heav'nly object. B ut since she hath a heart, we know, E re some passions thence do flow, Though ever ruled with honour ; H er judgment reigns, they wait below, A nd fix their eyes upon her. Rectify'd so, they in their kind E ncrease each virtue of her mind, Govern'd with mild tranquillity ; In all the regions under Hear'n, No state doth bear itself so even, A nd with so sweet facility.

D

HYMN XVIII.

OF HER FANCY. E XQUISITE curiosity, Look on thyself with judging eye, I faught be faulty, leave it: So delicate a fantasy As this, will straight perceive it. Because her temper is so hne, Endow'd with harmonies divine; Therefore if discord strike it, H er trae proportions do repine, A nd sadly do mislike it.

HYMN XXI. OF THE INNUMERABLE VIRTUES OF HER XINA E RE thou proceed in these sweet pains Learn, Muse, how many drops it rains In cold and moist December; Sum up May flow'rs, and August's grains, A nd grapes of mild September. B ear the sea's sand in memory, Earth's grass, and the stars in the sky, The little moats which mounted, H ang iu the beams of Phoebus' eye, A nd never can be counted.

Right otherwise a pleasure sweet,
E'er she takes in actions meet,
G racing with smiles such meetness;
In her fair forehead beams appear,
No summer's day is half so clear,
A dorn’d with half that sweetness.

Recount these numbers numberless,
E re thou her virtue can express,
Great wits this count will cumber.
I nstruct thyself in numb'ring schools;
Now courtiers use to beg for fools,
All such as cannot number.

HYMN XXII.

OF HER WISDOM.

HYMN XIX.

OF THE ORGANS OF HER MIND. E Clips'o she is, and her bright rays Lie under veils, yet many ways I s her fair form revealed; She diversely herself conveys, A nd cannot be concealed. By instruments her pow'rs appear Exceedingly well tun'd and clear: T his lute is still in measure, Holds still in tune, e'en like a sphere, And yields the world sweet pleasure. Resolve me, Muse, how this thing is, E re a body like to this Gave Hear'n to earthly creature? I am but fond this doubt to make, No doubt the angels bodies take, A bove our common nature.

E AGLB-ey'd Wisdom, life's load-star,
Looking near on things afar;
I ove's best belov'd daughter,
S bows to her spirit all that are,
A s Jove himself hath taught her.
By this straight rule she rectifies
Each thought that in her heart doth rise:
This is her clear true mirror,
Her looking-glass, wherein she spies
A ll forms of truth and errour.,

Right princely virtue fit to reign,
E nthroniz'd in her spirit remain,
G uiding our fortunes ever;
If we this star once cease to see,
No doubt our state will shipwreck'd be,
A nd torn and sunk for ever..