t closer, nigher yet;
Here is a double fire,
A dry one and a wet.
True lasting heavenly fuel
Puts out the vestal jewel,
When once we twining marry
Mad love with wild canary.

II.
Off with that crowned Venice,<69.1>
'Till all the house doth flame,
Wee'l quench it straight in Rhenish,
Or what we must not name.
Milk lightning still asswageth;
So when our fury rageth,
As th' only means to cross it,
Wee'l drown it in love's posset.

III.
Love never was well-willer
Unto my nag or mee,
Ne'r watter'd us ith' cellar,
But the cheap buttery.
At th' head of his own barrells,
Where broach'd are all his quarrels,
Should a true noble master
Still make his guest his taster.

IV.
See, all the world how't staggers,
More ugly drunk then we,
As if far gone in daggers
And blood it seem'd to be.
We drink our glass of roses,
Which nought but sweets discloses:
Then in our loyal chamber
Refresh us with love's amber.

V.
Now tell me, thou fair cripple,
That dumb canst scarcely see
Th' almightinesse of tipple,
And th' ods 'twixt thee and thee,
What of Elizium's missing,
Still drinking and still kissing;
Adoring plump October;
Lord! what is man, and<69.2> sober?

VI.
Now, is there such a trifle
As honour, the fools gyant,
What is there left to rifle,
When wine makes all parts plyant?
Let others glory follow,
In their false riches wallow,
And with their grief be merry:
Leave me but love and sherry.

<69.1> QU. a crowned goblet of Venice glass.

<69.2> i.e. if.

THE FALCON.

Fair Princesse of the spacious air,
That hast vouchsaf'd acquaintance here,
With us are quarter'd below stairs,
That can reach heav'n with nought but pray'rs;
Who, when our activ'st wings we try,
Advance a foot into the sky.

Bright heir t' th' bird imperial,
From whose avenging penons fall
Thunder and lightning twisted spun!
Brave cousin-german to the Sun!
That didst forsake thy throne and sphere,
To be an humble pris'ner here;
And for a pirch of her soft hand,
Resign the royal woods' command.

How often would'st thou shoot heav'ns ark,
Then mount thy self into a lark;
And after our short faint eyes call,
When now a fly, now nought at all!
Then stoop so swift unto our sence,
As thou wert sent intelligence!

Free beauteous slave, thy happy feet
In silver fetters vervails<70.1> meet,
And trample on that noble wris