The Commonplace book of Matthew Day ca.1650 V.a.160 pages 2, 3, 4 and 5
Below is a semi-diplomatic transcription of an extract from The Commonplace book of Matthew Day ca.1650, V.a.160 pages 2, 3, 4 and 5
This was originally created as part of the Practical Paleography Series, sponsored by EMMO.
Vpon the comett.
5. A Starre of late was seene in Virgoe's trayne
which seem'd from North to South to post amayne:
If England be the North, and South be Spayne
Then Charles sitt fast and looke vnto thy waine.
A Melancholy meditation.
6 Welcome folded armes, and fixed eyes,
A sigh that peircing mortifies,
A looke that's fastned on the grownd,
A toung chaind up without a sound,
Fountaines heads, and pathlesse groues
Places which pale passion loues,
Moone-light: walkes, when all the fowles,
Are warmly hous'd, saue bats and Owles,
A midnight bell, a parting groane
These are the sounds wee feede vpon,
Then stretch the bones into a gloomy ally,
There's nothing daynty sweete but melancholly.
Shakespeare on the King.
7. Crownes, haue theyr compasse, length of dayes theyr date
Triumphs theyr tombe, felicity her fate,
Of naught but earth, can earth make us partaker
But knowledge makes a king most like his maker.
Vpon an occasion of seeing a fly in a Spiders web one
wrote these verses, his Mrs beeing by.
8. Sees't thou (my dearest Caelia) how that fly
Sueing for mercy in the web doth lye?
Then thus resolue, thus with your selfe consider
I am that fetter'd fly, you are the spider,
Your loue's the web, in which
fast since fast you haue me
O let it be your glory not to kill, but saue me.
9. In Rob Cecil:
Heere lyes little Crooke backe
whoe iustly was reckon'd
Richard the 3[r]d and Judas the Second,
In life they agreed
But in death they did alter
Great pity the pox preuented the halter
Vpon a hopefull young gentleman that dyed Iune the 14th.
10. He that's imprison'd in this graue soe soone
Began to liue the 14th day of Iune;
Though the grim sister with her fatall knife
Kill'd him, she could not take away his life;
For when sterne fate hath done what ere she can
She power hath to kill but half a man
When drowsy bodyes are possest with sleepes
The actiue minde her selfe still waking keepes
Soe when the carcasse buryed eyes in the earth,
Then long=liu'd fame begins her glorious birth;
And those that for theyr good deedes are commended
Begin to liue when theyr frayle life is ended
Of one that kill'd himselfe by stopping his breath
with a handkercheife.
11. He whose cold carcasse in this place you see
Ga'ue to his life a sad Catastrophe
For tirde with acting still the pooreman's parte
Resolu'd to hasten cruell death's slow dart,
He stopt his breath and with prodigious sinne
Thrust out his soule by keeping of it in
12. Good folks for loue or hire
Come and h'elp me to a crier,
For my poore hart is gone a stray
After 2 eyes that went this way:
If there be any man
In towne, or country can
Bring me my hart again
Ile pay him for his payne;
By these markes I will you shew
That I this heart doe ow
It is a wounded heart
And in it stickes a dart
Maymed in every part throughout it,
Fayth and truth writt round about it
Twas a tame hart and a deare
And neuer usd to roame
But hauing got this haunt I feare
Will never keepe at home
For loue's sake passing by the way
If by chaunce my hart you see,
Eyther impound it for a stray,
So send it home to me.
13. Freindes, soldiers, woemen in theyr prime
Are like to doggs in hawking time,
Occasion, warre, and beauty gone
Freindes, soldiers, woemen in theyr prime.
Are like to doggs in hawking time,
Occasion , warre, and beauty gone
Freindes, soldiers, woemen then are none
14. A true freind must like a priuy be
To ease his freind at his necessity
A true friend must like a chimny be
Hottest in winter of aduersity
To the king of sued.
15. Gustauus true Augustus for to be
Each Anagrammatist may plainly see;
And sued doth Deus backward truly spell
Soe doe thy name and actions suite aswell
daring untlesse champion daring to defie,
Romes boundlesse pride and Austria's Tiranny;
In thee be all those prophesies fulfill'd
Foretold of him to whome the beast should yeild;
God crowne thy prowesse with victorious dayes
Be thine the Conquest and be his the prayse
Vpon Dorothie Kind daughter to Dr Iohn King
buried in the chappell at Windsor.
16. Here lyes a modell of frayle man
A tender infant, but a span
In age or stature, heere she must
Lengthen out both bedded in dust
Nine months imprison'd in the wombe
Eight on earth's surface free, the Tombe
Must make compleate hire Diarie
Soe leaue her to aeternity.
Not farre from whome lyes Robert Huitt sonne to
Sir William Huitt vpon whome I finde these
17. Heere shrined are beneath this marble stone
The pretious reliques of that little one