Wittes Pilgrimage (by Poeticall Essaies): Through a VVorld of amorous Sonnets, Soule-passions, and other Passages, Diuine, Philosophicall, Morall, Poeticall, and Politicall. By Iohn Davies |
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Of my selfe.
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Of my selfe.
VVhat meane I miscreant my Braines to beateTo forge these Fancies light as Leuity,
To set the World on fire which amorous heate,
That now lies drowned in such vanity?
I know I should not do it, and I know
This knowledge much exaggerates my blame:
Why do I then my science herein show,
Where greatest skill doth merit greater shame?
And who doth loue this vaine of fancy vaine
But vainest men? then, ô how vaine am I
That thus the powers of my wit doe strayne,
To please vaine Skums with skumme of vanity?
Here VVit it self (though wit it selfe I had)
Wants skill to coyne excuse the faults so fowle:
Then, Reason run right, whether dost thou gad?
VVilt thou misleade the blind, thy Queen, my Soule?
To please base Earth, wilt thou the Heauens displease,
That knowest so well the Earth yeeldes nought but dust?
Seekst thou for fame with my whole mannes disease,
That worst all fame, but vertues is vniust?
Or yet (by Faith instructed) knowst thou not
(For, Faith, in Truth, knows more thē thou canst know)
That names of famous men away shall rot,
If from such gracelesse Grounds theyr fames do growe?
Art thou my guide, and yet dost me direct
To labyrinthes of loue, where we are lost?
Dost thou (most wise) cause this most fond effect?
Or' crossest me, sith thee I oft haue crost?
Ah Reason wilt thou now to Passion turne,
That wast the Prince predominating it?
Shal thy Slaue (fraile Affection) thee oreturne?
And, mad to make me, wilt thou straine thy wit?
VVilt thou instruct mee so to please the sence
That none but sensuall men shall like my Lines?
And misinforme the best Intelligence,
That paies beliefe to thee, and thine assignes?
Ponder thy power which is as good, as strong:
Be thou thy selfe, though thou art wrongd by Fools,
And right that wrong with Iustice, not with wrong
I see thou hearst me, for thou teachest me,
To teach thee what we both should learne and doe:
Thou prompst me now, wherein I erd through thee;
And bidst me those light Lines againe vndoe;
And tye them to the lasting Lord of loue,
VVith such a knot as nere shall be vndone:
Those Lynes will draw, and hold, and stay, and mooue.
Sith they are by the hand of Vertue spunne.
Then Reason I acquite thee from disgrace,
Sith thus thou promptst me what I ought to write:
Lett Tyrant shame with bloud stil fil my face.
For so abusing thy right ruling might.
My frinds (though fraile as I am) pres me stil
To presse these lines (more fraile) to publike view:
If I should saie it is againste my will
I shoulde speake truly, and yet most vntrue:
For my wills fixt my fast friends stil to please:
But yet still wauers thus, to publish these,
Yet sith, in wauering wise, thus fixt, it stands
Fames wind, Wits weather-cocke, my will, commands.
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