IDENTILIN$$ X008AF1 Mapletoft vol (MS additions to a 1633 ed.)\pp.[414-17]\JSC\mf\9-21-94\
008.AF1.0HE %X%1Elegie%2 13. pag: 149.
008.AF1.001 Not that in colour it was like thy hair,
008.AF1.002 Armelets of that thou mayest, still let me wear,
008.AF1.003 Nor that thy hand it oft embracd and kist,
008.AF1.004 For so it had that good which oft I mist.
008.AF1.005 Nor for that silly old morality,
008.AF1.006 That as these linkes were knit, our loves should be:
008.AF1.007 Mourn I, that I thy sevenfold chain have lost,
008.AF1.008 Nor for the lucks sake, but the bitter cost.
008.AF1.009 Oh shall twelve righteous Angels, which as yet
008.AF1.010 No leaven of viler soder did admit;
008.AF1.011 Nor yet by any way have straid or gone
008.AF1.012 From the first state of their creation,
008.AF1.013 Angels, which heaven commanded to provide
008.AF1.014 All things to me, and be my faithfull guide,
008.AF1.015 To gain new friends, t'appease old enemies,
008.AF1.016 To comfort my soul%Yd%Z when I lie or rise,
008.AF1.017 Shall these twelve innocents, by thy severe
008.AF1.018 Sentence (dread Iudge) my sins great burden bear?
008.AF1.019 Shall they be damnd, and in the furnace thrown,
008.AF1.020 And punisht for offences not their own?
008.AF1.021 They save not me, they doe not ease my pains,
008.AF1.022 When in that hell they're burnt & ty'd in chains.
008.AF1.023 Were they but Crowns of France, I cared not,
008.AF1.024 For, most of them, their natural Country rot
008.AF1.025 I think possesseth, they come here to us,
008.AF1.026 So pale, so lame, so lean, so ruinous, [p.(415)]
008.AF1.027 And howso'er French Kings most Christian be,
008.AF1.028 Their Crowns are circumcisd most Iewishly:
008.AF1.029 Or were they Spanish Stamps still travelling,
008.AF1.030 That are become as Catholique as their King,
008.AF1.031 Those unlickt bear whelps, unfild pistolets
008.AF1.032 That (more then Canon shot) availes or lets,
008.AF1.033 Which negligently left unrounded, look
008.AF1.034 Like many angled figures in the book
008.AF1.035 Of some dread Coniurer that would enforce
008.AF1.036 Nature, as these do Iustice from her course.
008.AF1.037 Which, as the soul quickens head, feet, and heart,
008.AF1.038 As streams like veins, run through th'earth's every part,
008.AF1.039 Visit all Countries, and have slily made
008.AF1.040 Gorgeous France; ruin'd, ragg'd, and decay'd.
008.AF1.041 Scotland, which knew no State, proud in one day,
008.AF1.042 And mangled seventeenheaded Belgia;
008.AF1.043 Or were it such Gold as that wherewithall
008.AF1.044 Almighty Chymiques from each Minerall
008.AF1.045 Having by subtle fire a soul out-pulld,
008.AF1.046 Are dirtily and desperately gulld:
008.AF1.047 I would not spit to quench the fire they're in,
008.AF1.048 For they are guilty of much hainous sin.
008.AF1.049 But shall my harmless angels perish? shall
008.AF1.050 I lose my guard, my ease, my food, my all?
008.AF1.051 Much hope which they should nourish will be dead.
008.AF1.052 Much of my able youth, and lusty head
008.AF1.053 Will vanish, if thou Love let them alone,
008.AF1.054 For thou wilt love me less when they are gone,
008.AF1.055 And be content that some loud squeaking cryer
008.AF1.056 Well pleas'd with one lean thred bare groat for hire, 
008.AF1.057 May like a Devil roar through every street,
008.AF1.058 And gall the finders conscience, if they meet.
008.AF1.059 Or let me creep to some dread Coniurer
008.AF1.060 That with Fantastique Scenes fills full much paper,
008.AF1.061 Which hath divided heaven in tenements, [p.(416)]
008.AF1.062 And with whores, theeves, and murderers stuft his rents
008.AF1.063 So full, that though he place them all in sin,
008.AF1.064 He leaves himself no room to enter in.
008.AF1.065 But if when all his art and time is spent,
008.AF1.066 He say 'twill ne'r be found, yet be content,
008.AF1.067 Receive from him the doom ungrudgingly,
008.AF1.068 Because he is the mouth of destiny.
008.AF1.069 Thou say'st (alas) the gold doth still remain,
008.AF1.070 Though it be chang'd, and put into a chain,
008.AF1.071 So in the first faln Angels, resteth still
008.AF1.072 Wisdome and knowledge, but 'tis turnd to ill:
008.AF1.073 As these should doe good works, and should provide
008.AF1.074 Necessities, but now must nurse thy pride,
008.AF1.075 And they are still bad Angels, mine are none,
008.AF1.076 For form give being, and their form is gone:
008.AF1.077 Pity these Angels yet, their dignities
008.AF1.078 Pass Virtues, Powers, and Principalities.
008.AF1.079 But thou art resolute, thy will be done,
008.AF1.080 Yet with such anguish, as her only Son
008.AF1.081 The Mother in the hungry grave doth lay,
008.AF1.082 Unto the fire these Martyrs I betray.
008.AF1.083 Good Soules (for You give life to every thing)
008.AF1.084 Good Angels (for good messages you bring)
008.AF1.085 Destin'd you might have been to such an one,
008.AF1.086 As would have lov'd and worshipd you alone,
008.AF1.087 One that would suffer hunger, nakedness,
008.AF1.088 Yea death, e're he would make your number less:
008.AF1.089 But I am guilty of your sad decay,
008.AF1.090 May Your few fellowes longer with me stay.
008.AF1.091 But oh thou wretched finder, whom I hate
008.AF1.092 So, that I almost pity thy estate,
008.AF1.093 Gold being th' heaviest metall amongst all,
008.AF1.094 May my most heaviest curse upon thee fall,
008.AF1.095 Here fetter'd, manacled, and hang'd in chains [p.(417)]
008.AF1.096 First mayest thou be, then chain'd to hellish pains,
008.AF1.097 Or be with forrain gold brib'd to betray
008.AF1.098 Thy Country, and fail both of it and pay:
008.AF1.099 May the next thing thou stoop'st to reach, contain
008.AF1.100 Poyson, whose nimble fume rot thy strong brain,
008.AF1.101 Or libels, or some interdicted thing,
008.AF1.102 Which negligently kept, thy ruine bring.
008.AF1.103 Lust-bred diseases rot thee, and dwell with thee
008.AF1.104 Itching desire, and no abilitie.
008.AF1.105 May all the evills that gold ever wrought,
008.AF1.106 All mischief that all devils ever thought,
008.AF1.107 Want after plenty, pour and gouty age,
008.AF1.108 The plague of travaillers, love and marriage
008.AF1.109 Afflict thee, and that thy lifes last moment
008.AF1.110 May thy swoln sins themselves to thee present.
008.AF1.111 But I forgive, repent thou honest man,
008.AF1.112 Gold is restorative, restore it then:
008.AF1.113 But if that from it thou beest loath to part,
008.AF1.114 Because 'tis cordial, would 'twere at thy heart.
008.AF1.0SSom            
008.AF1.0$$ %1Hand-copied from 1669[?-according to copyist's notes] into the 
back of a copy of 1633; no ind.; the d after soul in l.16 looks erased%2