When Life's sweet light first shone on beasts, and when From their hard mother Earth, sprang hardy men, 30 When beasts tooke up their lodging in the Wood, Starres in their higher chambers: never cou'd The tender growth of things endure the sence Of such a change, but that the Heav'ns indulgence Kindly supplyes sick Nature, and doth mold 35 A sweetly-temper'd meane, nor hot nor cold. WITH A PICTURE SENT TO A FRIEND.[63] I paint so ill, my peece had need to be 1 Painted againe by some good poesie. I write so ill, my slender line is scarce So much as th' picture of a well-lim'd verse: Yet may the love I send be true, though I 5 Send not true picture, nor true poesie. Both which away, I should not need to feare, My love, or feign'd or painted should appeare. IN PRAISE OF LESSIUS'S RULE OF HEALTH.[64] Goe now, with some dareing drugg, 1 Baite thy disease, and while they tugg, Thou, to maintaine their cruell strife Spend the deare treasure of thy life: Goe take physicke, doat upon 5 Some big-nam'd composition,-- The oraculous doctors' mistick bills, Certain hard words made into pills; And what at length shalt get by these? Onely a costlyer disease. 10 Goe poore man, thinke what shall bee Remedie 'gainst thy remedie. That which makes us have no need Of phisick, that's phisick indeed. Heark hither, Reader: would'st thou see 15 Nature her own physician be? Would'st see a man all his own wealth, His own musick, his own health? A man, whose sober soul can tell How to wear her garments well? 20 Her garments, that upon her sit, (As garments should do) close and fit? A well-clothed soul, that's not opprest Nor choked with what she should be drest? Whose soul's sheath'd in a crystall shrine, 25 Through which all her bright features shine? As when a piece of wanton lawn, A thin aërial vail is drawn, O're Beauty's face; seeming to hide, More sweetly shows the blushing bride: 30 A soul, whose intellectuall beams No mists do mask, no lazie steams? A happie soul, that all the way To Heav'n, hath a Summer's day? Would'st see a man whose well-warm'd bloud 35 Bathes him in a genuine floud? A man, whose tunèd humours be A set of rarest harmonie? Would'st see blithe looks, fresh cheeks beguile Age? Would'st see December smile? 40 Would'st see a nest of roses grow In a bed of reverend snow? Warm thoughts, free spirits, flattering Winter's self into a Spring? In summe, would'st see a man that can 45