TIME was, and that was term'd the time of gold, When world and time were young, that now are
(When quiet Saturne sway'd the mace of lead,
And pride was yet unborne, and yet unbred.)
Time was, that while the autumne fall did last,
Our hungrie sires gap'd for the falling mast
of the Dodonian cakes.
Could no unhusked akorne leave the tree,
But there was challenge made whose it might be.
And if some nice and liquorous appetite
Desir'd more daintie dish of rare delite,
They scal'd the stored crab with clasped knee,
Till they had sated their delicious eye :
Or search'd the hopefull thicks of hedgy-rowes,
For brierie berries, or hawes, or sourer sloes:
Or when they meant to fare the fin'st of all,
They lick'd oake-leaves besprint with honey fall.
As for the thrise three-angled beech nut-shell,
Or chesnut's armed huske, and hid kernell,
No squire durst touch, the law would not afford,
Kept for the court, and for the king's owne board.
Their royall plate was clay, or wood, or stone,
The vulgar, save his hand, else he had none.
Their onely cellar was the neighbour brooke:
None did for better care, for better looke.
Was then no plaining of the brewer's scape,
Nor greedie vintner mixt the strained grape.
The king's pavilion was the grassy green,
Under safe shelter of the shadie treen.
Under each banke men layd their limbs along,
Not wishing anie ease, not fearing wrong:
Clad with their owne, as they were made of old,
Not fearing shame, not feeling anie cold.
But when by Ceres huswifrie and paine,
Men learn'd to burie the reviving graine,
And father Janus taught the new-found vine,
Rise on the elme, with many a friendly twine:
And base desire bade men to delven low,
For needlesse mettals, then 'gan mischief grow.
Then farewell fayrest age, the world's best dayes;
Thriving in ill as it in age decaies.
Then crept in pride, and peevish covetise,
And men grew greedie, discordous, and nice.
Now man, that erst haile-fellow was with beast,
Woxe on to weene himselfe a god at least.
No aerie fowl can take so high a flight,
Though she her daring wings in clouds have dight;
Nor fish can dive so deep in yielding sea,
Though Thetis selfe should sweare her safetie;
Nor fearful beast can dig his cave so lowe,
As could he further than Earth's center go;
As that the ayre, the earth, or ocean,
Should shield them from the gorge of greedie man.
Hath utmost Inde ought better than his owne ?
Then utmost Inde is neare, and rife to gone.
O Nature! was the world ordain'd for nought
But fill man's maw, and feede man's idle thought?
Thy grandsire's words savour'd of thriftie leekes,
Or manly garlic; but thy furnace reekes
Hot steams of wine; and can a-loofe descrie
The drunken draughts of sweete autumnitie.
They naked went; or clad in ruder hide,
Or home-spun russet, void of forraine pride:
But thou canst maske in garish gauderie,
To suite a foole's far-fetched liverie.
A French head joyn'd to necke Italian:
Thy thighs from Germanie, and brest from Spain:
An Englishman in none, a foole in all :
Many in one, and one in severall.
Then men were men; but now the greater part
Beasts are in life, and women are in heart.
Goode Saturne selfe, that homely emperour,
In proudest pompe, was not so clad of yore,
As is the under-groome of the ostlerie,
Husbanding it in work-day yeomanrie.
Lo! the long date of those expired dayes,
Which the inspired Merlin's word fore-sayes;
When dunghill peasants shall be dight as kings,
Then one confusion another brings :
Then farewell fairest age, the world's best dayes,
Thriving in ill, as it in age decayes.
GREAT Osmond knowes not how he shall be known
When once great Osmond shall be dead and gone.
Unlesse he reare up some rich monument,
Ten furlongs nearer to the firmament.
Some stately tombe he builds, Egyptian wise,
Rex regum written on the pyramis.
Whereas great Arthur lies in ruder oak,
That never felt none but the feller's stroke.
Small honour can be got with gaudie grave;
Nor it thy rotten name from death can save.
The fairer tombe, the fouler is thy name;
The greater pompe procuring greater shame.
Thy monument make thou thy living deeds;
No other tomb than that true virtue needs.
What! had he nought whereby he might be knowne
But costly pilements of some curious stone?
The matter Nature's, and the workman's frame;
His purse's cost: where then is Osmond's name?
Deserv'dst thou ill? well were thy name and thee,
Wert thou inditched in great secrecie;
Where, as no passenger might curse thy dust,
Nor dogs sepulchrall sate their gnawing lust.
Thine ill deserts cannot be grav'd with thee,
So long as on thy grave they ingraved be.
THE Courteous citizen bade me to his feast,
With hollow words, and overly request:
"Come, will ye dine with me this holyday?"
I yeelded, though he hop'd I would say nay :
For had I mayden'd it, as many use;
Loath for to grant, but loather to refuse.
"Alacke, sir, I were loath ;-another day,-
I should but trouble you ;-pardon me, if you may."
No pardon should I need; for, to depart
He gives me leave, and thanks too, in his heart.
Two words for monie, Darbishirian wise;
(That's one two manie) is a naughtie guise.
Who looks for double biddings to a feast,
May dine at home for an importune guest.
I went, then saw, and found the greate expense;
The fare and fashions of our citizens.
Oh, Cleopatrical! what wanteth there
For curious cost, and wond'rous choice of cheere?
Beefe, that erst Hercules held for finest fare;
Porke for the fat Boeotian, or the hare
For Martial; fish for the Venetian;
Goose-liver for the likorous Romane,
Th' Athenian's goate; quaile, Iolan's cheere;
The hen for Esculape, and the Parthian deere;
Grapes for Arcesilas, figs for Plato's mouth,
And chestnuts faire for Amarillis' tooth.
[fore? Hadst thou such cheere? wert thou ever there beNever. I thought so: nor come there no more. Come there no more; for so meant all that cost: Never hence take me for thy second host.
For whom he meanes to make an often guest, One dish shall serve; and welcome make the rest.
WERE yesterday Palemon's natals kept,
That so his threshold is all freshly steept
With new-shed blood? Could he not sacrifice
Some sorry morkin that unbidden dies;
Or meager heifer, or some rotten ewe;
But he must needs his posts with blood embrew,
And on his way-doore fixe the horned head,
With flowers and with ribbands garnished?
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