The poems of George Daniel ... From the original mss. in the British Museum: Hitherto unprinted. Edited, with introduction, notes, and illustrations, portrait, &c. By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart: In four volumes |
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 | The poems of George Daniel |  |
44
Parted, per pale.
Whilest some Men Honours raise, from Dust and Sweat;And others labour to attaine the Seate
Of ffavour, with a Prince; and others strive
By groveling Industrie, but low to live;
I thanke my Equall Starrs, which soe dispose,
I'me neither Scorne nor Envie to my foes;
I am noe Extract of a Prince's blood;
Nor can I bring a line downe from the flood;
I can not reach from Brute, nor bring my name
Addition to the antique Brittish ffame;
The Norman Conquest pussles my dispute;
I dare not stand the tryall, in a suite;
Nor say, from such a Knight, or such a Lord,
I am deriv'd, and give a Herald's word.
I will not bring an Ancestor againe
ffrom such a Harrie, such an Edward's reigne;
Reputed then a Squire; nor buy a Roll
To boast my Predecessors by the Poll;
Or shew the severall Matches blazoned faire,
Baron, et ffemme, and tell you how they beare
Gules, or, vert, azure,—heathen words for Red,
Yellow, green, blue; how fairly am I sted
By fortune, that the Colours, which I claime
Hereditarie, to my house and Name,
Are but the Same, whereon, and with, I write,
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I neither boast, nor Skorne, a faire discent,
Noble, and Herald-vouchèd Ancient;
But I contemne the vanitie of these
As I doe Infamie; I would not please
Arrogance, in a Sillable; but stand
Ioyed, to behold the honor and the Land,
(Drawne from a noble Ancestrie) survive,
And by a worthy Nephew, kept alive.
I was not borne soe low; but would I bring
Wind, to swell out the Bladder whence I spring,
It would appeare as Eminent, as high,
As those, who boast a longer Pedigree;
And if not burst by malice of this Age,
May stand as long; but, why should I presage
A Ruine to my selfe? when those who now
Put vp of late, and beare a hopefull brow
May die forgotten; when those, yet to spring,
Are fall'n, and none to speake of such a thing.
When those, who glorye Heralds bookes, and all
The Sin they sprung from, shall to nothing fall,
I may survive; But what! is Poetrie
Come to be Larded, with ranke Heraldrie?
Soe some Cookes spoile good Meat; yet not amisse,
ffor divers Palats; some like that, some this:
And much good as they relish, may they finde,
A Phesant, bacon-farc'd, or pure, in kind.
| The poems of George Daniel | |