Couentry, that do'st adorne
The Countrey wherein I was borne,
Yet therein lyes not thy prayse
Why I should crowne thy Tow'rs with Bayes:
_Couentry finely 'Tis not thy Wall, me to thee weds
walled._ Thy Ports, nor thy proud Pyrameds,
_The Shoulder-bone Nor thy Trophies of the Bore,
of a hare of But that Shee which I adore,
mighty bignesse._ Which scarce Goodnesse selfe can payre,
First their breathing blest thy Ayre; 10
IDEA, in which Name I hide
Her, in my heart Deifi'd,
For what good, Man's mind can see,
Onely her IDEAS be;
She, in whom the Vertues came
In Womans shape, and tooke her Name,
She so farre past Imitation,
As but Nature our Creation
Could not alter, she had aymed,
More then Woman to haue framed: 20
She, whose truely written Story,
To thy poore Name shall adde more glory,
Then if it should haue beene thy Chance,
T' haue bred our Kings that Conquer'd _France_.
Had She beene borne the former Age,
_Two famous That house had beene a Pilgrimage,
Pilgrimages, the And reputed more Diuine,
one in_ Norfolk, Then _Walsingham_ or BECKETS Shrine.
_the other in_ That Princesse, to whom thou do'st owe
Kent. Thy Freedome, whose Cleere blushing snow, 30
Godiua, _Duke_ The enuious Sunne saw, when as she
Leofricks _wife, Naked rode to make Thee free,
who obtained the Was but her Type, as to foretell,
Freedome of the Thou should'st bring forth one, should excell
city, of her Her Bounty, by whom thou should'st haue
husband, by riding More Honour, then she Freedome gaue;
thorow it naked._ And that great Queene, which but of late
_Queene_ Rul'd this Land in Peace and State,
Elizabeth. Had not beene, but Heauen had sworne,
A Maide should raigne, when she was borne. 40
_A noted Streete Of thy Streets, which thou hold'st best,
in_ Couentry. And most frequent of the rest,
Happy _Mich-Parke_ eu'ry yeere,
_His Mistresse On the fourth of _August_ there,
birth-day._ Let thy Maides from FLORA'S bowers,
With their Choyce and daintiest flowers
Decke Thee vp, and from their store,
With braue Garlands crowne that dore.
The old Man passing by that way,
To his Sonne in time shall say, 50
There was that Lady borne, which long
To after-Ages shall be sung;
Who vnawares being passed by,
Back to that House shall cast his Eye,
Speaking my Verses as he goes,
And with a Sigh shut eu'ry Close.
Deare Citie, trauelling by thee,
When thy rising Spyres I see,
Destined her place of Birth;
Yet me thinkes the very Earth 60
Hallowed is, so farre as I
Can thee possibly descry:
Then thou dwelling in this place,
Hearing some rude Hinde disgrace
Thy Citie with some scuruy thing,
Which some Iester forth did bring,
Speake these Lines where thou do'st come,
And strike the Slaue for euer dumbe.
TO THE CAMBRO-BRITANS and their Harpe, his Ballad of
AGINCOVRT
Faire stood the Wind for _France_,
When we our Sayles aduance,
Nor now to proue our chance,
Longer will tarry;
But putting to the Mayne,
At _Kaux_, the Mouth of _Sene_,
With all his Martiall Trayne,
Landed King HARRY.
And taking many a Fort,
Furnish'd in Warlike sort, 10
Marcheth tow'rds _Agincourt_,
In happy howre;
Skirmishing day by day,
With those that stop'd his way,
Where the _French_ Gen'rall lay,
With all his Power.
Which in his Hight of Pride,
King HENRY to deride,
His Ransome to prouide
To the King sending. 20
Which he neglects the while,
As from a Nation vile,
Yet with an angry smile,
Their fall portending.
And turning to his Men,
Quoth our braue HENRY then,
Though they to one be ten,
Be not amazed.
Yet haue we well begunne,
Battels so brauely wonne, 30
Haue euer to the Sonne,
By Fame beene raysed.
And, for my Selfe (quoth he),
This my full rest shall be,
_England_ ne'r mourne for Me,
Nor more esteeme me.
Victor I will remaine,
Or on this Earth lie slaine,
Neuer shall Shee sustaine,
Losse to redeeme me. 40
_Poiters_ and _Cressy_ tell,
When most their Pride did swell,
Vnder our Swords they fell,
No lesse our skill is,
Than when our Grandsire Great,
Clayming the Regall Seate,
By many a Warlike feate,
Lop'd the _French_ Lillies.
The Duke of _Yorke_ so dread,
The eager Vaward led; 50
With the maine, HENRY sped,
Among'st his Hench-men.
EXCESTER had the Rere,
A Brauer man not there,
O Lord, how hot they were,
On the false _French-men_!
They now to fight are gone,
Armour on Armour shone,
Drumme now to Drumme did grone,
To heare, was wonder; 60
That with the Cryes they make,
The very Earth did shake,
Trumpet to Trumpet spake,
Thunder to Thunder.
Well it thine Age became,
O Noble ERPINGHAM,
Which didst the Signall ayme,
To our hid Forces;
When from a Medow by,
Like a Storme suddenly, 70
The _English_ Archery
Stuck the _French_ Horses,
With _Spanish_ Ewgh so strong,
Arrowes a Cloth-yard long,
That like to Serpents stung,
Piercing the Weather;
None from his fellow starts,
But playing Manly parts,
And like true _English_ hearts,
Stuck close together. 80
When downe their Bowes they threw,
And forth their Bilbowes drew,
And on the French they flew,
Not one was tardie;
Armes were from shoulders sent,
Scalpes to the Teeth were rent,
Downe the _French_ Pesants went,
Our Men were hardie.
This while our Noble King,
His broad Sword brandishing, 90
Downe the _French_ Hoast did ding,
As to o'r-whelme it;
And many a deepe Wound lent,
His Armes with Bloud besprent,
And many a cruell Dent
Bruised his Helmet.
GLOSTER, that Duke so good,
Next of the Royall Blood,
For famous _England_ stood,
With his braue Brother; 100
CLARENCE, in Steele so bright,
Though but a Maiden Knight,
Yet in that furious Fight,
Scarce such another,
WARWICK in Bloud did wade,
OXFORD the Foe inuade,
And cruell slaughter made,
Still as they ran vp;
SVFFOLKE his Axe did ply,
BEAVMONT and WILLOVGHBY 110
Bare them right doughtily,
FERRERS and FANHOPE.
Vpon Saint CRISPIN'S day
Fought was this Noble Fray,
Which Fame did not delay,
To _England_ to carry;
O, when shall _English_ Men
With such Acts fill a Pen,
Or _England_ breed againe,
Such a King HARRY? 120
[from the Edition of 1606]
_Ode 4_
_To my worthy frend, Master John Sauage of the Inner Temple_
Vppon this sinfull earth
If man can happy be,
And higher then his birth,
(Frend) take him thus from me.
Whome promise not deceiues
That he the breach should rue,
Nor constant reason leaues
Opinion to pursue.
To rayse his mean estate
That sooths no wanton's sinne, 10
Doth that preferment hate
That virtue doth not winne.
Nor brauery doth admire,
Nor doth more loue professe
To that he doth desire,
Then that he doth possesse.
Loose humor nor to please,
That neither spares nor spends,
But by discretion weyes
What is to needfull ends. 20
To him deseruing not
Not yeelding, nor doth hould
What is not his, doing what
He ought not what he could.
Whome the base tyrants will
Soe much could neuer awe
As him for good or ill
From honesty to drawe.
Whose constancy doth rise
'Boue vndeserued spight 30
Whose valewr's to despise
That most doth him delight.
That earely leaue doth take
Of th' world though to his payne
For virtues onely sake
And not till need constrayne.
Noe man can be so free
Though in imperiall seate
Nor Eminent as he
That deemeth nothing greate. 40
_Ode 8_
Singe wee the Rose
Then which no flower there growes
Is sweeter:
And aptly her compare
With what in that is rare
A parallel none meeter.
Or made poses,
Of this that incloses
Suche blisses,
That naturally flusheth 10
As she blusheth
When she is robd of kisses.
Or if strew'd
When with the morning dew'd
Or stilling,
Or howe to sense expos'd
All which in her inclos'd,
Ech place with sweetnes filling.
That most renown'd
By Nature richly crownd 20
With yellow,
Of that delitious layre
And as pure, her hayre
Vnto the same the fellowe,
Fearing of harme
Nature that flower doth arme
From danger,
The touch giues her offence
But with reuerence
Vnto her selfe a stranger. 30
That redde, or white,
Or mixt, the sence delyte
Behoulding,
In her complexion
All which perfection
Such harmony infouldinge.
That deuyded
Ere it was descided
Which most pure,
Began the greeuous war 40
Of _York_ and _Lancaster_,
That did many yeeres indure.
Conflicts as greate
As were in all that heate
I sustaine:
By her, as many harts
As men on either parts
That with her eies hath slaine.
The Primrose flower
The first of _Flora's_ bower 50
Is placed,
Soo is shee first as best
Though excellent the rest,
All gracing, by none graced.