Poems With the Muses Looking-Glasse. Amyntas. Jealous Lovers. Arystippus. By Tho: Randolph ... The fourth Edition enlarged [by Thomas Randolph] |
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A gratulatory to Mr. Ben Johnson, for adopting him to be his sonne.
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A gratulatory to Mr. Ben Johnson, for adopting him to be his sonne.
I was not born to Helicon, nor darePresume to think my self a Muses heir.
I have no title to Parnassus hill.
Nor any Acre of it by the will
Of a dead Ancestour, nor could I be
Ought but a tenant unto Poetry.
But thy Adoption quits me of all feare,
And makes me challenge a childs portion there.
I am a kinne to Heroes being thine,
And part of my alliance is divine,
Orphæus, Musæus, Homer too, beside
Thy Brothers by the Roman Mothers side;
As Ovid, Virgil, and the Latine Lyre,
That is so like thee, Horace: the whole Quire
Of Poets are by thy Adoption, all
My Uncles: thou hast given me power to call
Phœbus himself my Grandsire; by this graunt
Each Sister of the nine is made my Aunt.
Go you that reckon from a large descent
Your lineall honours, and are well content
To glory in the age of your great name,
Though on a Heralds faith you build the same:
I do not envy you, nor think you blest
Though you may bear a Gorgon on your Crest
By direct line from Persons; I will boast
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I can or should be proud of; and I were
Unworthy his adoption, if that here
I should be dully modest, boast I must
Being son of his Adoption, not his lust.
And to say truth, that which is best in me
May call you Father, 'twas begot by thee.
Have I a spark of that cælestiall flame
Within me. I confesse I stole the same
Promotheus like from thee; and may I feed
His Vulture, when I dare deny the deed.
Many more Moons thau hast, that shine by night
All Bankrupts, wer't not for a borrow'd light;
Yet can forswear it, I the debt confesse,
And think my reputation ne're the lesse.
For Father let me be resolv'd by you;
It's a disparagement from rich Peru
To ravish gold; or theft, for wealthy Ore
To ransack Tagus, or Pactolus shore?
Or does he wrong Alcinous, that for want
Doth take from him a sprig or two, to plant
A lesser Orchard? sure it cannot be:
Nor is it theft to steale some flames from thee.
Graunt this, and I'le cry guilty, as I am,
And pay a filiall reverence to thy name.
For when my Muse upon obedient knees
Asks not her Fathers blessing, let her leese
The fame of this Adoption; 'tis a curse
I wish her 'cause I cannot think a worse.
And here, as Piety bids me, I intreat
Phœbus to lend thee some of his own heat,
To cure thy Palsie; else I will complain
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Make him the god of Physick, 'twere his praise
To make thee as immortall as thy Bayes;
As his own Daphne, 'twere a shame to see
The god not love his Priest, more then his Tree.
But if heaven take thee, envying us thy Lyre,
'Tis to pen Anthems for an Angels quire.
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