Author: liza.blake

¹

A brain wherein no dullness doth appear,²
From gross opinions washed with reasons clear;³
A⁴ judgement hard and sound, grated therein;⁵
Quick wit squeezed into it, with⁶ fancies thin;
A bunch of scent⁷, sounds, colours, tied up fast             5
With threads of motion, and strong nerves to last.
In memory then stew them with long time,⁸
So take them up, and put in spirits of wine.⁹
Then pour it¹⁰ forth into a dish of touch;
The meat is good, although it is¹¹ not much.                   10

Life took some flour of white complexions made;¹
Churned nourishment as butter she did add,²
And knead³ it well; then on a board it placed,⁴
And rolled it oft, until a pie was raised.⁵
Then did she take some lips, like cherries⁶ red,                      5
And sloe-black eyes from a fair virgin’s head,
And strawberry teats from high banks of⁷ white breast,
And juice from raspis fingers ends did press.⁸
These she put in the pie, and did it⁹ bake
Within a heart, which she straight hot did make.                  10
Then drew it out with reason’s peel, and sends¹⁰
It up to Nature; she it much commends.¹¹

¹

Sweet marmalade of kisses newly² gathered;
Preserved children which were never³ fathered;
Sugar of beauty, which melts away⁴ soon;
Marchpane of youth, and childish macaroon;
Sugar-plum words, which fall sweet from⁵ the lips;            5
And wafer promises, which waste into⁶ chips;
Biscuits of love, which crumble⁷ all away;
Jelly of fear that quaking,⁸ quivering lay.
Then was a fresh green-sickness cheese brought in,⁹
And tempting fruit, like that which Eve made sin,¹⁰           10
With cream of honor, which was thick and good;¹¹
Firm nuts of sincere friendship¹² by it stood.
Grapes of delight, dull spirits to revive,
Whose juice, ’tis said, doth Nature keep alive.
All this dessert did Nature might’ly please:¹³                        15
She ate and drank, then went to rest in ease.¹⁴

Eternity, as usher, goes¹ before.
And Destiny, as porter, keeps the door
Of the great world, who lets Life out and in.
The Fates, her maids, this² thread of Life do spin.
Mutability orders with great³ care.                                         5
Motion, her footboy, runneth everywhere.
Time, as her page, doth carry up her train,
But in his service he doth little⁴ gain.
The Days are the surveyors, which do⁵ view
All Nature’s works, which⁶ are both old and new.               10
The Seasons four by turns their circuits⁷ take,
Like judges sit, and distributions⁸ make;
The Months, their⁹ pen-clerks, write down everything,
Make deeds of gifts, and bonds of all that spring.
Life’s office is to pay and give out all                                      15
To her receiver, Death, when he doth¹⁰ call.

The ground on which this house is built so strong¹
Is² honesty, that hates to do a wrong.
Foundations deep were laid, and very sure,
By love, which to all times will³ firm endure.
The walls, strong friendship; hearts for brick lay thick,        5
And constancy, as mortar, made them stick.
Freestones⁴ of obligations pillars raise,
To bear high-roofèd thanks, sealèd⁵ with praise.
Windows of knowledge let in light of truth;
Curtains of joy are⁶ drawn by pleasant youth.                         10
Chimneys with⁷ touchstone of affection made,
Wherein is beauty, as love’s fuel,⁸ laid.
The hearth is innocent marble⁹ white,
Whereon the fire of love burns clear and¹⁰ bright.
The doors are cares, misfortunes out to keep,¹¹                      15
Lest poverty that’s cold might thorough creep.¹²
Besides there,¹³ rooms of several passions stand,¹⁴
Some on the right, and some on th’other hand.¹⁵
This house’s outside’s¹⁶ tiled with noble deeds,
With¹⁷ high ambition covered, as¹⁸ with leads.                       20
Turrets of fame are built on every side,
And in this palace Nature takes great pride.
It is best furnished of all¹⁹ Nature’s courts,
For it is hung²⁰ with virtues of all sorts,
As²¹ moral virtues, and with those of art:                                 25
The last from acts, the first come²² from the heart.

¹

The head is like a barrel, which will break
If th’liquor be too strong; but if’t be² weak,
It³ will the riper grow by lying long,
For⁴ kept from vent, the spirits grow more strong.
So wit, which Nature tuns up in the brain,⁵                     5
Never leaves working, if it close remain.⁶
’Twill⁷ through discretion⁸ burst and run about,
Unless a pen and ink do tap it out.
But if the wit be small, then let it lie,
For⁹ broached too soon, the spirits quickly die.              10

¹

Malaga wits, when broached, which pens do² pierce,
If strong, run straight into heroic verse.
Sharp claret satyr,³ searching, runs⁴ about
The veins of vice, before it passes out,
And makes the blood of virtue fresh to spring                   5
In noble minds; fair truths complexions bring.
But all high fancy is in brandy wits;⁵
A fiery heat in understanding sits.

In Nature’s wardrobe there hangs up great store
Of several garments; some are rich, some poor.
Some, made on¹ beauty’s² stuff, with smiles are³ laced;
With lovely favor is the outside faced.
Some fresh and new by sicknesses are⁴ rent,                           5
Not taking any care them⁵ to prevent.
But physic and good diet had⁶ again
Sewed up the slits, that none did yet⁷ remain.
Some worn so bare with age, that none could see
What stuff’t⁸ had been, or what it yet might⁹ be.                    10
Others were so ill-shaped, their¹⁰ stuff so coarse,
That¹¹ none would wear unless it were by force.¹²
And several mantles Nature made were there,
To keep her creatures warm from the cold air.
As sables, martins,¹³ and the fox that’s black,¹⁴                       15
The powdered ermines, and the fierce wild cat.¹⁵
Most of her creatures she hath clad in fur,
Which need¹⁶ no fire, if they do¹⁷ but stir.
And some in wool she clads, as well as hair,
And some in scales; others do feathers wear.                           20
But man, his skin she made¹⁸ so smooth and fair,
It needs no feathers,¹⁹ scales, wool, nor hair.
The outside of all things Nature keeps here²⁰
For several creatures, which²¹ she makes to²² wear.
Death pulls them off, Life puts them on, but Nature²³            25
Takes care to fit each garment for each creature.²⁴
Nature hath but two sorts of stuffs²⁵ whereon²⁶
All garments are made that Life puts on.²⁷
But yet these of such several fashions are,²⁸
That seldom any two alike appear.                                             30
And²⁹ Nature several trimmings for them³⁰ makes,
And several colors for each trimming takes.

¹

Great Nature clothes the soul, which is but thin,²
With³ fleshly garments,⁴ which the Fates do spin.
And when these garments are grown old and bare,
With sickness torn, Death takes them off with care,
And folds⁵ them up in⁶ peace, and quiet rest,                       5
So⁷ lays them safe within an earthly chest.
Then scours them,⁸ and makes them sweet and clean,
Fit for the soul to wear those clothes again.

Grounds of great loss, with sorrows were deep plowed,¹
Wherein the fertile seed of care was sowed;²
Horses of hopes did draw the cart of pains,³
With expectations filled, to th’barn of brains;⁴
Cows of content did give⁵ the milk of ease;                              5
Curds pressed with love did make⁶ a friendship cheese;
Cream of delight was put in⁷ pleasure’s churn,
In a short time to butt’r of joy did turn;⁸
Sweet whey of tears from laughing eyes did flow:⁹
Thus all her housewif’ry did Nature show.¹⁰                           10
Eggs of revenge were laid by some design;
Chickens of mischief hatched by¹¹ words divine.
Life’s nourishment¹² the poultry fat doth cram,
And so she doth all creatures else, and man.¹³
And Nature makes the Fates¹⁴ to sit and spin,                         15
And Destiny lays out and brings flax in.
In this her housewif’ry doth Nature¹⁵ take
Such great delight,¹⁶ the cloth of life to make,
That¹⁷ every garment she herself cuts out,
Disposing¹⁸ to her creatures all about.                                      20
Where some wear them so long, till they be¹⁹ torn,
And some do cast them off before half worn.
Thus busy Nature²⁰ doth her self employ
On every creature small, until they²¹ die.
When any²² dies, that work is at an end;²³                               25
Then to a new she doth her study bend.²⁴