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 |
 | I. |
|
|
|
|
|
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| III, IV. |
|
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
|
|
|
|
|
Crastini Animarum.
|
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
 | The poems of George Daniel |  |
Crastini Animarum.
1650.
And had not the great cloud, wch blears the SightOf Iudgment firme to Truth, yet hung; we might
Have Sung it louder; wch would now but make
Noyse, in a mist, to aggravate mistake.
The Sun (whose heat gives Life & Light, makes bold
Earth, & from Earth, the Creatures manifold)
Is shrunke into the Socket; & we now
(Lost to his flame) can scarce hope when, or how
He from that Dismall Tropicke, shall repasse,
That we may live, in Light, as once it was;
Till when, our Numbers (destin'd to more)
Creeps to a corner, at a Candle-Hower;
And a few freinds, may rub (with patience)
Six Stanza's ore; to pay the vast Expence
Of Witt (forbidden Traffique) with a Smile;
As were that worth, our Braines, & Midnight Oyle;
Nay those Great Names we Sing, who doe not live
In fouler Sheets then other Poets give;
203
Bold Truth, is Treason; Loyalty quite Lame;
Let their Names live to better Dayes; & bring
A Quill as zealous, to assert the King;
But let not Hucksters, bring such Glory in.
His Father's fate has harden'd them in Sin;
Oh, 'tis too true! & though we cannot Spell
What Destiny has writ; yet I must tell
Aloud my fears; perhaps (too true) his Fate
From thence noe good; I tremble when I Say 't;
But that he may (by other means restor'd)
Adorne the Throne, I will not doubt; noe word
Is big enough, for Glory; verse (which Spanns
Nature's whole Sphere, & her proportions)
Perhaps is yet too Short; Some Actions teach
Fancy, a flight beyond her height & reach;
What Great Things Vertue may, Sworne to his fame
I need not give; but men shall Seeke my name
And Charg'd with many Laurels; what they Scarce
Admit in Chambers, shall fill Theaters;
And even these numbers, who to fame are lost,
Perhaps may merit, what some others boast.
The End.
1650.
| The poems of George Daniel | |