[Tobacco.][260]

Homer of Moly and Nepenthe singes: Moly, the gods most soveraigne hearbe divine. Nepenth Hellen's drink, which gladnes brings,-- Hart's greife repells, and doth y^{e} witts refine. But this our age another world hath found, From whence an hearbe of heavenly power is brought: Moly is not soe soveraigne for a wound Nor hath Nepenth[e] so great wonders wrought. It is tobacco: whose sweete subtile fume The hellish torment of y^{e} teeth doth ease, By drawing downe and drieing up y^{e} rume The mother and the nurse of each disease.

ELEGIES OF LOUE.

Like as the diuers-fretchled Butter-flye, When Winter's frost is fallne upon his winge, Hath onely left life's possibility, and lies halfe dead untill the cherefull Spring:

But then the Sunne from his all-quickning eye, Darts forth a sparkle of the liuinge fire: Which with kinde heate, doth warme the frozen flye and with newe spirit his little breast inspire:

Then doth hee lightly rise and spread his winges, And with the beames that gaue him life doth playe: Tasts euery flower that on th' earthe's bosoome springs, and is in busye motion all the day:

Soe my gaye Muse, which did my heart possesse, And in my youthful fantasie doth raigne: Which cleard my forehead with her cheerefullnes and gaue a liuely warmth unto my brayne: With sadder studye, and with graue conceite Which late my Immagination entertaynd: Beganne to shrinke, and loose her actiue heate, and dead as in a læthargy remaynd.

Long in that senseles sleepe congeald shee laye, Untill euen now another heauenly eye, And cleare as that which doth begett the daye, and of a like reviuinge simpathy:

Did cast into my eyes a subtile beame, Which peirieinge deepe, into my fancy went, And did awake my muse out of her dreame, and unto her new life and vertue lent:

Soe that shee now begins to raise her eyes Which yett are dazled with her beautye's raye; And to record her wonted melodyes, Although at first shee bee not full so gaye.