Ere he the earth, our common Mother saw; Now earlie greets black _Flores_ banefull Ile, (_Flores_, from whence afflictions selfe doth draw The true memorialls of a weeping stile;) And with _Caisters_ Querristers[1] which straw Descant, that might Death of his darts beguile, He tunes saluting notes, sweeter then long, All which are made his last liues funerall song. Skillesse in deaths great Parliament he cals His fellow mat's, and minions to his fame, Shewes them long lookt for land, and how it brauls, Repulsing backe the billowes as they came, Much he triumphes, and passed griefe for-stals With present ioy (sorrow lights pleasures flame:) And whilst his hopes of _Happy-Fortune_ sings, _Misfortune_ by, controls them with her wings. Desir'd reliefe, and euer welcome rest, The elements that forme the wearie man, Began to hold a counsaile in his brest, Painting his wants by sicknes pale and wan; With other griefes, that others force opprest, Aduising stay, (as what is but they can,) Whilst he that fate to come, and past, nere feard, Concludes to stay till strength decayd repaird. Then casts he Anchor hulling on the maine, And all his shyps poore Citizens recounts, And hundred iust were free from sicknes paine, Fourscore and ten death their redress accounts; So that of all both sicke and sound vnslaine, Vnto two hundred wanting ten amounts. A slender armie for so great a guide, But vertue is vnknowne till it be tride. Those whom their harts enabled to attempt, He puts a shoare to make supplie for neede; Those whom long sicknes taught of death contempt, He visits, and from _Ioues_ great Booke doth reede The balme which mortall poysen doth exempt; Those whom new breathing health like sucklings feed, Hie to the sands, and sporting on the same, Finde libertie, the liues best liuing flame. Looke how a troope of Winter-prisoned Dames, Pent in th' inclosure of the walled townes, Welcoms the Spring, Vsher to Somer flames, Making their Pastimes in the flowrie downes, Whose beauteous Arras[2] wrought in natures frames, Through eyes admire, the hart with wonder crownes, So the wood-walled citizens at sea, Welcome both Spring and Sommer in a day. The warring byllowes, seas artillerie, With long held siege, had bruz'd their beaten keele, Which to repaire the most, most busied be, Lab'ring to cure, what want in labours feele; All pleas'd with toyle, clothing extremitie In Hopes best robes, that hang on Fortunes wheele But men are men, in ignorance of Fate, To alter chaunce, exceedeth humaine state. For when the Sun, towred in heauens head, Downe from the siluer mountaine of the skye, Bent his bright Chariot on the glassie bed, Faire christall, guilded with his glorious eye, Fearing some usurpation in his stead, Or least his Loue should too-long daliance spy Tweene him and _Virgo_, whose attractiue face, Had newly made him leaue the _Lyons_ chase.