Let beauty (joyn'd with modesty) appeare
Loves object in her face; and chastity

In her faire eyes, brighter than chrystall cleare,
Wherein life moves, affections led thereby.

In her hands charity, and at the right
The holy angels let protecting be:

And at the left Gods mercies shining bright,
Distributing to each necessity.

Let th' earth his riches yeeld to her, and more
The heavens their influence, and by the same
Unto the blind their sight let her restore;
Strengthning the weak, and raising up the lame.
Under her feet the devill and darknesse set,
Let pride fast bound in chaines behind her lye,
Base self-love, not appeare in place, and let
Foule-lust, and envy from her presence flie.
And on her brest, in golden letters write---
Heavens best belov'd, earths chiefest delight.

Hee that (in's choice) would meet with such a wife,
Must vow virginity, and single life.

ON SIR THOMAS OVERBURY AND HIS

A

WIFE.

LL right, all wrong befals me through a wife,
A bad one gave me death, a good one life.

E

H

AN ELEGY UPON THE DEATH OF SIR

THOMAS OVERBURY, KNIGHT.

Poysoned in the Tower.

ADST thou like other sirs and knights of worth,

Sickned and dide, bin stretcht-out, and laid-forth,

After thy farewell sermon, taken earth,

And left no deed to praise thee, but thy birth,
Then Overbury, by a passe of theirs,

Thou might'st have tyded hence in two houres teares,

Then had we worne the sprigs of memory

No longer than thy friends did rosemary;

Or than the doale was eating for thy sake,

And thou hadst sunke in thine owne wine and cake: But since it was so ordered and thought fit

By some who knew thy truth, and fear'd thy wit, Thou shouldst be poison'd; death hath done thee grace, Ranckt thee above the region of thy place,

For none heares poyson nam'd, but makes reply What prince was that? what states-man so did die ? In this thou hast out-dyde an elegy,

Which were too narrow for posterity,

And thy strong poyson which did seeme to kill,
Working afresh in some historians quill,

Shall now preserve thee longer ere thou rot,

Than could a poem mixt with antidot;

Nor need'st thou trust a herauld with thy name,

That art the voyce of justice and of fame;

Whilst sinne (detesting her owne conscience) strives the use and interest of lives.

Το

pay
Enough of ryme, and might it please the law,
Enough of bloud; for naming lives I saw,
He that writes more of thee, must write of more,
Which I affect not, but referre men ore

To Tyburne, by whose art they may define
What life of man is worth in valewing thine.

TH

ON SIR THOMAS OVERBURY.

HOUGH dumb, deaf, dead, I cry, I heare, I kill:
Thus growne a politician 'gainst my will.

J. M.

FINIS.

"

THE METHOD.

First, of Mariage, and the effect thereof; Children. Then of his contrary, Lust; then for his choyce, first, his opinion negatively, what should not be: the First, causes in it, that is, neither Beauty, Birth, nor Portion. Then affirmative, what should be, of which kind there are foure, Goodnesse, Knowledge, Discretion, and as a second thing, Beauty. The first only is absolutely good : the other being built upon the first, doe likewise become 80. Then the application of that woman by love to himselfe, which makes her a Wife. And lastly, the only condition of a Wife, Fitnesse.

A WIFE.

PACH woman is a briefe of womankind, And doth in little even as much containe, As, in one day and night, all life we finde, Of either, more, is but the same againe : God fram'd her so, that to her husband she, As Eve, should all the world of woman be.

So fram'd he both, that neither power he gave
Use of themselves, but by exchange to make:
Whence in their face, the faire no pleasure have,
But by reflex of what thence other take.

Our lips in their owne kisse no pleasure finde :
Toward their proper face, our eies are blinde.