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On SHAKESPEAR. 1630.
HAT needs my Shakespear for his honor'd
Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid
Dear fon of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'ft thou such weak witness of thy name?
For whilft to th' shame of flow-endevoring art
On the University Carrier, who ficken'd in the time of his vacancy, being forbid to go to London, by reason of the plague.
ERE lies old Hobfon; Death hath broke his girt,
And here alas, hath laid him in the dirť, Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one, He's here stuck in a flough, and overthrown.
'Twas fuch a fhifter, that if truth were known, 5 Death was half glad when he had got him down ; For he had any time this ten years full,
Dodg'd with him, betwixt Cambridge and the Bull.
In the kind office of a chamberlin
Show'd him his room where he muft lodge that night, Pull'd off his boots, and took away the light:
If any ask for him, it fhall be faid,
Hobfon has fupt and's newly gone to bed.
Another on the fame.
ERE lieth one, who did most truly prove
That he could never die while he could move; So hung his destiny, never to rot
While he might ftill jogg on and keep his trot,
'Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime
Reft that gives all men life, gave him his death,
And too much breathing put him out of breath; Nor were it contradiction to affirm
Too long vacation haften'd on his term.
Merely to drive the time away he ficken'd,
Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase :
Only remains this fuperfcription.
ENCE loathed Melancholy,
Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, In Stygian cave forlorn
(unholy, 'Mongst horrid fhapes, and fhrieks, and fights Find out fome uncouth cell,
Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous And the night-raven fings;
There under ebon fhades, and low-brow'd rocks, As ragged as thy locks,
In dark Cimmerian defert ever dwell.
But come thou Goddess fair and free,
In Heav'n ycleap'd Euphrosyne,
And by men, heart-easing Mirth,
The frolic wind that breathes the spring,
And fresh-blown roses wash'd in dew,
B b 2
Hafte thee Nymph, and bring with thee
Jeft and youthful Jollity,
Quips and Cranks, and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
And love to live in dimple fleek;
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his fides.
On the light fantastic-toe.
And in thy right hand lead with thee,
To live with her and live with thee,
While the cock with lively din
Scatters the rear of darkness thin,