UPON HIS MA'TIES FIRST COMMING INTO ENGLAND. O now or neuer, gentle Muse, be gaye: And mount up higher with thy paper winges, Than doth the larke when hee sallutes the daye, And to the morne a merry wellcome singes. Thou must goe meete King James, upon the way Advanceing Southward, with his golden trayne; And know him too thou maist at first survaye, by proper noates and by distinctions plaine. By his faire outward formes, and princely port, By honour done to him with cap and knee, Hee is distinguist to the vulgar sort: but truer characters will rise to thee. Thy sight had once an influence divine, Which gaue it power the Soule of man to vew: Wipe and make cleare that dazled eye of thine, and thou shall see his reall markes and true. Looke over all that divers troope, and finde Who hath his spirits most joviall and free; Whose body is best tempred, and whose mind is ever best in tune; and that is he. See who it is, whose actions doe bewraye That threefold power, which rarely mixt wee see; A judgment grave, and yett a fancy gaye joynd with a rich remembrance, That is hee. Marke who it is, that hath all noble skill, Which may to publicke good referrèd bee: The sharpest witte and best affected will, whence floes a streame of vertues, That is hee. If any more than other clearely wise, Or wisely just, or justly valiant bee; If any doe faint pleasure more dispise or bee more maister of himselfe, its hee. But soft, thine eagle's eye will soone bee dim, If thou this risinge sonne directly vewe: Looke sidewayes on the beames that spread from him,[271] Faire peace, with Plenty, and Religion true. With that strong g'ard of Angells which doe houer About his sacred person, daye and night: And with invissible winges his head doe cover, that danger's darts thereon may neuer light. Now on, for wingèd Time with thee goes on, Which like old Æson hath his youth renewed, His hower glasse turnd, and his sickle gon, and all his graye and broken feathers mewd. On, for the brave young sonne above his head Comes North ward, that hee may his glory meete; While the fresh Earth in all her pride doth spread, greene velvett carpetts underneath his feete. On, for the birdes will helpe to fill the songe, Whereto all English hartstringes will agree: An' th' Irish harpstringes that have jarrd soe longe, to make the Musicke full, now tunèd bee. There is noe eye cast downe, there is no voyce Which to expresse the harts assent, is dumbe: The world of thinges doth every where rejoyce In certaine hope of blessed times to come.