Goe cure your feavers: and you'le say The Dog-dayes scorch not all the yeare: In Copper Mines no longer stay, But travell to the West, and there The right ones see: And grant all gold's not Alchimie. What mad man 'cause the glow-wormes flame Is cold, sweares there's no warmth in fire? Cause some make forfeit of their name, And slave themselves to mans desire; Shall the sex free From guilt, damn'd to the bondage be? Nor grieve _Castara_, though 'twere fraile, Thy Vertue then would brighter shine, When thy example should prevaile, And every womans faith be thine. And were there none: 'Tis Majesty to rule alone. _To the Right Honourable and excellently learned_, WILLIAM _Earle of_ St. My Lord, The Laurell doth your reverend temples wreath As aptly now, as when your youth did breath Those tragicke raptures which your name shall save From the blacke edict of a tyrant grave. Nor shall your Day ere set, till the Sunne shall From the blind heavens like a cynder fall; And all the elements intend their strife, To ruine what they fram'd: Then your fames life, When desp'rate Time lies gasping, shall expire Attended by the world ith' generall fire. Fame lengthens thus her selfe. And I to tread Your steps to glory, search among the dead, Where Vertue lies obscur'd; that as I give Life to her tombe, I spight of time may live. Now I resolve in triumph of my verse, To bring great _Talbot_ from that forren hearse, Which yet doth to her fright his dust enclose: Then to sing _Herbert_ who so glorious rose, With the fourth _Edward_, that his faith doth shine Yet in the faith of noblest _Pembrookes_ line. Sometimes my swelling spirits I prepare To speake the mighty _Percy_, neerest heire, In merits as in blood, to CHARLES the great: Then _Darbies_ worth and greatnesse to repeat: Or _Morleyes_ honour, or _Mounteagles_ fame, Whose valour lies eterniz'd in his name. But while I thinke to sing those of my bloud, And my _Castara's_; Loves unruly flood Breakes in, and beares away what ever stands, Built by my busie fancy on the sands. _To_ CASTARA, _Upon an embrace_. 'Bout th' Husband Oke, the Vine Thus wreathes to kisse his leavy face: Their streames thus Rivers joyne, And lose themselves in the embrace. But Trees want sence when they infold, And Waters when they meet, are cold. Thus Turtles bill, and grone Their loves into each others eare: Two flames thus burne in one, When their curl'd heads to heaven they reare. But Birds want soule though not desire: And flames materiall soone expire.