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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
Davies, John (1565?-1618)
  
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To the Right noble, and Highly honored Lord Phillip Herbert, Earle of Mountgomery and Baron of Shurland. &c.
  
Againe, To the same truelie-noble Earle, and his most honorable other halfe Sir Iames Haies knight, &c.
  
The Booke to Grauitie.
  
The Author to his Muse.
  
Of my selfe.
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(102) Inuentions Life, Death, and Funerall.
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Other Sonnets vpon other Subiects.
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(I) The Trinity illustrated by a three-square perspectiue Glasse.
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In praise of Poesie.
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5. Sonnets in ppaise of Emincacy or a publike Life.
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An amorous Colloqui twixt Dorus, and Pamela.
  
The picture of Formosity.
  
In Loue is no Lothsomnes.
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Essaies vpon certaine Sentences.
  
Amans quid cupiat scit, quod sapiat non videt.
  
Be not ielous ouer the wife of thy bozome, neither teach hir by thy meanes an euill Lesson Ecclus. 9. 1.
  
Non est eiusdem & multa & opportuna dicere. Erasmus Chiliad:
  
Qualis vir talis oratio.
  
When the ritch man speakes, euery man holds his tongue and what he saith is praised vnto the Clouds, &c Ecclus. 13. 24.
  
Upon Apparitions in the Night.
  
Suum cuique pulchrum.
  
Stultus stulta loquitur.
  
Candidæ musarum ianuæ
  
Written to my deere Friend Maister Nicholas Deeble.
  
An Epitaph, or what you will, on the death of Maister Meece an harmelesse professed Foole who shall decease, when it shall please God, and him, made at his ernest request.
  
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Other Essayes vpon more serious and sacred Subiects.
  
Mortall Life compared to Post, and Pare.
  
My Corollarie.
  
Written to the Right Noble, and well-accomplished Ladie the Countesse Dowager of Pembroke.
  
Againe to Hir.
  
Written to the right Honorable, and most iuditious Lord William Earle of Pembrooke that now is.
  
Meete not an Harlot, least thou fall into hir Snares. Ecclus. 9. 3.
  
Gratious is the end that ends all our paines.
  
Quotidie est deterior posterior dies.
  
Enuy is blind and can do nothing but dispraise Vertue.
  
Vincit qui pætitur.
  
Againe.
  
In vindicando criminosa est celeritas.
  
Blessed is the Man that doth meditate honest things by Wisedome. Ecclus. 14. 21.
  
Sic transit gloria Mundi.
  
Respice finem.
  
A blind man cannot see the default of his Eyes.
  
There is no greater plague then Boldnesse and Powr, when they are accompanied with Ignorance.
  
In iudicando criminosa est celeritas.
  
Fortuna vitrea est, quæ cum splendet, frangitur. Publi.
  
A Dump vpon the death of the most noble Henrie late Earle of Pembrooke.
  
I said vnto Laughter, what art thou mad? And to Mirth what dost thou? Eccles. 2. 2.
  
Omnium rerum vicissitudo est. Terence.
  
Difficilia quæ pulchra.
  
I long for Life, vnlike to Death.
  
An Ode in commendation of Musick.
  
Nihil tam bene dictum, quod non fuit dictum prius.
  
Inough's as good as a feast.

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Quotidie est deterior posterior dies.

How many piercing Pens haue launct the Vaines
Of this vaine World, to let her humors out?
How many Satyres beate their tried Braines
How, from this Ioynt sick Age to bite the Gowt?
And yet like those anoyd with that disease,
These Times haue rather rest then helpe thereby:
For they displease them that do them displease;
So rest renengd, but toild in malady.
And oft those Surgeans are as humorous
As are the Aches which they seek to heale;
Who hauing Teeth, as sharp as mumerous,
Through others, bite themselues, which seld they feele.
Because themselues are senselesse of their Ills
Which this obseruing World perceiuing well
Measures their Medicines by their wicked Wills
So loths their Corsiues, and themselues doth quell.
But he that looks with well-discerning Eyes
Into the worlds ineuitable woes
Shal see it sick of mortal maladies;
And wil (as from the plague] flie far from those.
I see them well (though wel I canot see
Sith I am Hood-winckt still with darke desires]
And I confesse the World's the worse for me
Though to the best my Spirit at worst aspires.
Faine would I leaue this fardle of my Flesh
In Fastings Charge; the lighter so to flye
From these still following plagues which are most fresh
When we are weariest of their company.

But, lo the World still rounds me in the eare
With Wind that sweetly in that Organ sounds,
Which me alures to loue mirth, ioye and Cheare:
So downe it beates my wil when it rebounds.
Thus the Worlds heauy and vnholy hand
My Sprit suppresseth that would faine aspire;
And with my Flesh, conspires it to withstand
With whom the Diuel ioynes in that desire.
Thus do I rest in that Church militant,
Which still with stands these three stil fighting Foes
Stil warring with them til that strength I want
To gard, with grace, their most vngratious Blowes.
Then through my weaknesse am I forcd to yeeld
VVho then, like Tyrants, triumph in my spoile
And wrack my Hopes best haruest in the Field
VVhich they haue got, so, feareful make my foile:
And thus twixt good, and euil, Sin, and grace,
I stil do, striuing, run a tedious Race!
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