English

Which way and whence the lightning flew,
Of how it burned bright and blue,
Design and figure by your lights;
Then forth, and show the several flights
Your birds have made, or what the wing
Or voice in augury doth bring;
Which hand the crow cried on, how high
The vulture or the erne did fly,
What wing the swan made, and the dove,
The stork, and which did get above;
Show all the birds of food or prey,
But pass by the unlucky jay,
The night-crow, swallow, or the kite:
Let those have neither right,
CHORUS

Though it may seem rude
For me to intrude,
With these my bears, by chance-a;
'Twere sport for a king,
If they could sing
As well as they can dance-a.

Then to put you out
Of fear or doubt,
We came from St Katherine-a;
These dancing three,
By the help of me,
Who am the post of the sign-a.

We sell good ware,
And we need not care
Though court and country knew it;
Our ale's of the best,
And each good guest
Prays for the soul that brew it.

For any ale-house,

Nor do you think that their legs is all
The commendation of my sons,
For at the Artillery Garden they shall
As well forsooth use their guns.

And march as fine as the muses nine,
Along the streets of London:
And in their brave tires, to give their false fires,
Especially Tom my son.

Now if the lanes and the alleys afford
Such an ac-ativity as this;
At Christmas next, if they keep their word,
Can the children of Cheapside miss?

Though put the case, when they come in place,

Hum drum, sauce for a cony;
No more of your martial music;
Even for the sake of the next new stake,
For there I do mean to use it.

And now to ye, who in place are to see,
With roll and farthingale hooped:
I pray you know, though he want his bow,
By the wings that this is Cupid.

He might go back, for to cry 'What you lack?'
But that were not so witty:
His cap and coat are enough to note,
That he is the Love of the city.

And he leads on, though he now be gone,
For that was only his rule:

Give end unto thy pastimes, Love,
Before thy labours prove:
A little rest between
Will make thy next shows better seen.
Now let them close their eyes, and see
If they can dream of thee,
Since morning hastes to come in view;
And all the morning dreams are true.
(from Love Restored)

Have men beheld the graces dance,
Or seen the upper orbs to move?
So did these turn, return, advance,
Drawn back by doubt, put on by love.
And now, like earth, themselves they fix,
Till greater powers vouchsafe to mix
Their motions with them. Do not fear,
You brighter planets of this sphere;
Not one male heart you see
But rather to his female eyes
Would die a destined sacrifice
Than live at home and free.
(from Love Restored)

This motion was of love begot
It was so airy, light and good,
His wings into their feet he shot,
Or else himself into their blood.
But ask not how. The end will prove
That love's in them, or they're in love.
(from Love Restored)

O how came Love, that is himself a fire,
To be so cold!
Yes, tyran' money quencheth all desire,
Or makes it old.
But here are beauties will revive
Love's youth and keep his heat alive:
As often as his torch here dies,
He needs but light it at fresh eyes.
Joy, joy the more; for in all courts
If Love be cold, so are his sports.
(from Love Restored)

CHORUS

Can nothing great, and at the height
Remaine so long? but it's owne weight
Will ruine it? Or, is't blinde Chance,
That still desires new States t'advance,
And quit the old? Else, why must Rome
Be by it selfe, now, overcome?
Hath shee not foes inow of those,
Whom shee hath made such, and enclose
Her round about? Or, are they none,
Except shee first become her owne?
O wretchednesse of greatest States,
To be obnoxious to these Fates:
That cannot keepe, what they doe gaine;

Ah! what unthinking, heedless things are men,
T' enact such laws as must themselves condemn?
In every human soul some vices spring
(For fair perfection is no mortal thing);
Whoe'er is with the fewest faults endu'd,
Is but the best of what cannot be good.
Then view me, friend, in an impartial light,
Survey the good and bad, the black and white;
And if you find me, Sir, upon the whole,
To be an honest and ingenuous soul,
By the same rule I'll measure you again,
And give you your allowance to a grain.