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Look in thy soul, and thou shalt beauties find,
Like those which drown'd Narcissus in the flood :

HYMN 11.
Honour and pleasure both are in thy mind,
And all that ia the world is counted good.

E TERNAL virgin, goddess true,
Think of her worth, and think that God did mean, L et me presume to sing to you)
This worthy mind should worthy things embrace:

I ove, e'en great Jove hath leisure
Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts unclean, Sometimes to hear the vulgar crew,

Nor her dishonour with thy passion base. A nd hears them oft with pleasure.
Kill not her quick’ning pow'r with surfeitings: B lessed Astrea, I in part
Mar not her sense with sensuality :

Enjoy the blessings you impart,
Cast not her wit on idle things :

The peace, the milk, and honey, Make not her free will slave to vanity.

Humanity, and civil art,

A richer dow'r than money. And wherr thou think'st of ber eternity,

Think not that death against her nature is ;. Right glad am I that now I live,
Think it a birth: and when thou go'st to die, E’en in these days whereto you give
Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to bliss. Great happiness and glory ;

If after you I should be born,
And if thou, like a child, didst fear before, N o doubt I should my birth-day scorn,

Being in the dark, where thou didst nothing see; A dmiring your sweet story.
Now I have brought thee torch-light, fear no more;
Now when thou dy'st, thou canst not hood-wink'd

And thou, my soul, which turn'st with curious eye,

To view the beams of thine 'own form divine,
Know, that thou canst know nothing perfectly, E ARTH now is green, and Heaven is blue,
While thou art clouded with this flesh of mine. Lively Spring which makes all new,

I olly Spring doth enter;
Take heed of over-weening, and compare Sweet young sun-beams do subdue

Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's train: A ngry, aged Winter.
Study the best and highest things that are,
But of thyself an humble thought retain. B lasts are mild, and seas are calm,

E very meadow flows with balm,
Cast down thyself, and only strive to raise The earth wears all her riches;

The glory of thy Maker's sacred name: H armonious birds sing such a psalm,
Use all thy pow'rs, that blessed pow'r to praise, As ear and heart bewitches.
Which gives thee pow'r to be, and use the same.

Reserve (sweet Spring) this nymph of ours,
Eternal garlands of thy flow'rs,
Green garlands never wasting;

In her shall last our state's fair spring,
HYMNS OF ASTREA, Now and for ever flourishing,

A s long as Heav'n is lasting.


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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.


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.



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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.



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.


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.


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.


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.



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.




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..

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