And we not last of those glad harts that
To shew our Soveraigne our unspotted love.
The first a Maior's name worthely did grace',
Marrying that title and pretorian place;
Was of our freedome, purchasing thereby
That primate honor to our Livery.
Native our love as needfull is our trade,
By which no Kingdome ever was decaide;
To bring sleight gauds and womanish devices,
Of little use and of excessive prices.
Good home-made things with trifles to suppresse,
To feede luxurious riot and excesse;
Sound bullion is our subiect, whose sure rate,
Seal'd by his selfe-worth; such the Goldsmith's state,
Which Peace and happie Government doth nourish,
And with a Kingdome doth both fade and florish.
Nature's perfection, that great wonder gold,
Of which the first note of our name we hold;
Phœbus, the God that triply doth applie,
To Medicen, Musicke, and sweet Poesie;
To us his hie divinitie imparts,
As he is knowne and glorified in Arts:
For that invention studie doth befit,
That is the crowne and puritie of wit;
What doth belong, and 's proper to the Muse,
We of all other mysteries doe vse,
Moulds and insculpturs framing by the head,
Formes and proportions strangely varied,
The lumpe as likes the workman best to frame,
To wedge, to ingot, or what other name,
That by the sight and knowledge of our trade,
Into rich plate, and utensils is made,
Within thy land, for ornament doth stay.
Angels have wings, and fleeting still away,
And by eschanging virtuously doth flie
That cankerd, base, and idle usurie:
For when the banck once subtillie is plac'd,
Th' exacted use comes hourely in so fast,
That whil'st the lender on the borrower praies,
Good and industrious facultie decaies.
Foule Avarice, that triple dog of Hell,
That when Jove's sonne emperiously did quell,
And from his hand recevi'd that fatall wound,
His poisoned foame he driv'l'd on the ground;
From which they say, as in the Earth's despite,
Did spring that black and poysoned Aconite:
For they by fire that mettals use to trie,
And finde wise Nature's secresies thereby,
When they prepare industriously to shed
Silver, dispos'd adulteratly with lead,
Prove this base coarser from the other fine,
Being so cleere and aptly femenine,
Steales from her purenes in his boysterous fixure,
By the corruption of his earthly mixure
Which if gold helping her infeebled might,
As a kind brother in his sister's right,
By him her spirit is perfect and compacted,
Which that grosse body enviously detracted.
Conscience, like gold, which Hell cannot intice,
Nor winne from weake man by his avarice:
Which, if infus'd, such vertue doth impart,
As doth conforme and rectifie the heart.
For, as the Indians by experience know,
That like a tree it in the ground doth grow,
And as it still approcheth to the day,
His curled branches bravely doth display.
Then in the bulke and body of the mine,
More neat, contracted, rarified, and fine:
So truth from darknes spreading doth appeare,
And shewes itselfe more luculent and cleere.
Dunstan our patron, that religious man 1,
(That great and famous Metropolitan,
That in his time ascended by degrees,
To Worster, London, Canturburie's Sees;
That was in ancient Glastenbury bred,
Four Saxon's raignes that living flourished,
Whose deeds the world unto this time containeth,
And sainted in our kalenders remaineth,)
Gave, what not time our brotherhood denies,
Ancient endowments, and immunities:
And for our station and our generall heape,
Resides in Lombard or in goodly Cheape.
We have an adage, which though very old,
'Tis not the worse that it hath oft been told;
(Though the despising ancient things and holie,
Too much betraies our ignorance and follie :)
That England yeelds to goodly London this,
That she her chiefe and Soveraine Citie is;
London will graunt her goodly Cheape the
To be her first and absolutest place:
Dare I proclaime then with a constant hand,
Cheape is the Starre and Jewell of thy land.
The trophie that we reare unto thy praise,
This gold-drop'd laurell, this life-giving bayes.
Νο
power lends immortalitie to men,
Like the hie spirit of an industrious pen,
Which stems Time's tumults with a full-spread saile,
When proud-reard piles and monuments doe faile;
And in their cinders when great Courts doe lie,
That shall confront and iustle with the skie:
Live ever mightie, happely, and long,
Living admir'd, and dead be highly sung.
Extract from the Records of the City of London:
"6 March 1603. The Court of Aldermen ordered the Chamberlain to cause three cuppes of golde', with cases for them of crymson velvett, to be presently bought and provyded, to be given and presented by Mr. Recorder, in the name of this Cittie; th' one to the Kinge's most excellent Majestie, the other to the Queene's Highnes, and the thirde to the Prince of Wales, at their Royall passages through this Citty."
'The expence of the cups and cases was £.416. 10s. 5d.
DECLARING IN BRIEFE THE ARIVAL OF OUR
SOVERAIGNE LEIDGE LORD KING JAMES INTO ENGLAND,
HIS CORONATION AT WESTMINSTER.
Together with his late Royal Progresse from the TowRE of LONDON through the Cittie to his Highnes' Mannor of WHITEhall,
Shewing also the varieties and rarities of al the sundry Trophies or Pageants, erected aswel by the worthy Cittizens of the Honorable Cittie of LONDON; as also by certaine of other Nations, namely, ITALIANS, DUTCH, and FRENCH. With a Rehearsall of the KING and QUEENE's late comming to the EXCHANGE in LONDON.
At London: Printed by R. B. 1604. (Black Letter.)
A Dedicatorie Poem to the Triumphs of our most dreade and
Soveraigne Lorde King JAMES.
Honour attend thy gratious Maiestie,
Blisse be her partner in thy Soveraigntie.
Though dayes are yet young, olde joyes wil hasten on,
When fearefull times are dateles, deade, and gone.
Thy governing hand, that never yet knew other
Than a Ruler's equall suck from thy fair Mother;
Whose carefull thoughtes, in thee by God's commaunde,
Hast from thy childe-hoode held a happie hande.
By which fayre hand, God's grace hath let thee hither,
To plant thy peace, plenty, and grace, together;
So as our Tryumphs glorious be in showe,
So, Tryumph-like, Joy may with Quiet goe.
A copy of this very rare Tract, in the Library of Mr. Garrick, is in the volume noticed in p. 176;
which was sold for eighteen guineas.
The poore Subjects' Prayer for the long perservation of the sacred persons of the King, Queene, Prince, and the rest of their most Royall issue and posteritie:
Royall King JAMES,
Honour of names,
Englande's blysse
Wee happie in this,
Pray wee ever
Life fail thee never :
But flourish and be
As the bay-tree;
Evermore greene,
Fresh alwaies seene.
Virtue attend thee,
Till death ende thee:
Wee thus intreat God's powrefull Will,
To guide, keep, blesse, and guarde thee still:
That under God, Heaven's King, and thee,
Our safe abidings still may bee.
From harmefull tongues,
That wish thee wrongs:
From traytours' hate
That stirre debate;
From witching evils,
The guifts of devils;
From Hell and sinne
That some live in;
From poyson'd hearts
That ever thwarts;
And from all those
That are thy foes,
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