Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life Being several Feigned Stories, Comical, Tragical, Tragi-comical, Poetical, Romancical, Philosophical, Historical, and Moral: Some in Verse, some in Prose; some Mixt, and some by Dialogues. Written by the Thrice Noble, Illustrious, and most Excellent Princess, The Duchess of Newcastle [i.e. Margaret Cavendish]. The Second Edition |
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 | Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life |  |
An ancient Cross liv'd in our Father's time,
With as much Fame as did the Worthies nine:
No harm it did, or injury to none,
But dwelt in peace, and quietly alone:
On Times or Government did not complain,
But stood Stone-still, not stirr'd in no King's Reign.
Both Winter's Snow, and Summer's scorching Sun,
It did endure, and Urin'd was upon.
Yet peaceful Nature, nor yet humble Mind,
Shall not avoid rude Ignorance that's blind:
That superstitiously beats down all things
Which smell but of Antiquity, or springs
From Noble Deeds; nor love, nor take delight
In Laws or Justice, hating Truth and Right:
But Innovations love, for that seems fine;
And what is new, adore they as Divine:
That makes them so neglect the Gods above,
For Time doth waste both their respect and love.
And so this Cross, poor Cross, all in a rage
They pull'd down quite, the fault was only Age.
Had it been gilded gloriously and brave,
They Vanity for an excuse might have:
But it was poor, its Mortar all off worn,
Which Time had eaten, as when Dogs have torn
The Flesh from Bones of Hares, or harmless Sheep;
Or like to Skeletons, that Scholars keep.
If they had pious been, it might have stood,
To mollifie the Minds of Men to good.
But they were wicked, hating every thing
That by example might to goodness bring.
Then down they pull'd it, leaving not one stone
Upon another, for it to be known
To after-ages; for the Ground lies bare,
And none can know that once the Cross stood there.
With as much Fame as did the Worthies nine:
No harm it did, or injury to none,
But dwelt in peace, and quietly alone:
On Times or Government did not complain,
But stood Stone-still, not stirr'd in no King's Reign.
Both Winter's Snow, and Summer's scorching Sun,
It did endure, and Urin'd was upon.
Yet peaceful Nature, nor yet humble Mind,
Shall not avoid rude Ignorance that's blind:
That superstitiously beats down all things
Which smell but of Antiquity, or springs
From Noble Deeds; nor love, nor take delight
In Laws or Justice, hating Truth and Right:
But Innovations love, for that seems fine;
And what is new, adore they as Divine:
That makes them so neglect the Gods above,
For Time doth waste both their respect and love.
And so this Cross, poor Cross, all in a rage
They pull'd down quite, the fault was only Age.
Had it been gilded gloriously and brave,
They Vanity for an excuse might have:
But it was poor, its Mortar all off worn,
Which Time had eaten, as when Dogs have torn
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Or like to Skeletons, that Scholars keep.
If they had pious been, it might have stood,
To mollifie the Minds of Men to good.
But they were wicked, hating every thing
That by example might to goodness bring.
Then down they pull'd it, leaving not one stone
Upon another, for it to be known
To after-ages; for the Ground lies bare,
And none can know that once the Cross stood there.
| Natures Picture Drawn by Fancies Pencil To the Life | |