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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Idyllia.
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 | The poems of George Daniel |  |
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Idyllia.
207
Idyllia: The Distemper.
A Poeme Revised, & enlarged By the Author.
Humanum curare genus quis terminis vnquam
Præscripsit? nullas recipit Prudentia metas.
Præscripsit? nullas recipit Prudentia metas.
The Illustration.
This Globe, (one equall Sphære at first) not pleas'dIn her well-giv'n forme, this Altar rais'd;
Where Ianus Power, the Tirrannous High-Preist
Once but a Man, now Monarchs o're the Rest;
And fellow-Creatures vassail'd, tumble downe
To Either Face or Hand, the Axe, or Crowne;
The Scepter, or the Fasces, where they Strike
(Heavy to Death) Officiate alike;
Humanity enforc'd; the Exalted Horne
Of Reason, led away by Rage, t'adorne
The Shambles, where in Hecatombs they lye
Victims vnto Impossibilitie.
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Brain-wheele, to torment Men; Distemper here
In Government, grinds Man, the Dust of Earth
To knead him o're againe; this later Birth
Enioyes that warmth of Libertie, his Life,
Wch had been sought, by Temples formative;
Nothing makes Man a Slave, but to impart
The Power to another's Hand, from his owne Heart;
Which Fortified, breakes ye strong-pleated Charms
Of What they meant, to Live in Softer Armes.
Idyll I.
Wee are but where wee were seaven yeares before;
On the same Ocean, & as farre from Shore;
The Impacificke Seas, of our owne feares
And Iealousies; noe Land in Ken appeares;
Wee rigg'd, with Iason, for the Golden Fleece
But brought destruction, Paris-like, from Greece,
The Painted Hellen; must a Troian Fate
Vpon the Troian Issue, ever wait?
Is this our boast, from Brute? was all the Blood
Borne to deplore Corne growes now where Troy stood?
Must new Troy, like the Phœnix too expire,
And be but Embers, of the fatall Fire?
What third Plantation, for the Dardan worme
To creepe into? oh madness, how enorme!
How beyond all Aspersion, which may flow,
From Phrygian Loines, are we involv'd in, now!
Whither yet tends our Voyage? we were led
Wth hopes of some-what, to Assay this Bed,
Of many mixéd waters; and the Two
Faire Sister-starres, sate over in our Prow;
By a Transefixion, the Dioscuri
Vnto State-fareing Men; these will they cry,
Direct our Passage, that we cannot faile;
Liberty, & Religion! a faire Gale
And all our Toyle shall have a Glorious meed;
Thus brought into the Gulph, not to be freed;
Environed, beyond a hope of Shore,
And our owne Idoll, must our selves devour.
On the same Ocean, & as farre from Shore;
The Impacificke Seas, of our owne feares
And Iealousies; noe Land in Ken appeares;
Wee rigg'd, with Iason, for the Golden Fleece
But brought destruction, Paris-like, from Greece,
The Painted Hellen; must a Troian Fate
Vpon the Troian Issue, ever wait?
Is this our boast, from Brute? was all the Blood
Borne to deplore Corne growes now where Troy stood?
Must new Troy, like the Phœnix too expire,
And be but Embers, of the fatall Fire?
What third Plantation, for the Dardan worme
To creepe into? oh madness, how enorme!
How beyond all Aspersion, which may flow,
From Phrygian Loines, are we involv'd in, now!
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Wth hopes of some-what, to Assay this Bed,
Of many mixéd waters; and the Two
Faire Sister-starres, sate over in our Prow;
By a Transefixion, the Dioscuri
Vnto State-fareing Men; these will they cry,
Direct our Passage, that we cannot faile;
Liberty, & Religion! a faire Gale
And all our Toyle shall have a Glorious meed;
Thus brought into the Gulph, not to be freed;
Environed, beyond a hope of Shore,
And our owne Idoll, must our selves devour.
This, the Great Orke! wch (if I might discend
In Serious Things, to Trifles) ide defend;
The fabled Monsters, wch Sr Bevis oft
Vanquisht in fight, & our St George has Cufft;
With Guy & Amadis, & all the Crue
Of Worthy Warriours met wth, now were true;
This I'le beleive, Such Monsters have beene ever,
But then the Knight;—oh let him now or never
Free the distresséd Damsell; See she Stands
Bound to the Rocke, wth Buttocks in her hands.
In Serious Things, to Trifles) ide defend;
The fabled Monsters, wch Sr Bevis oft
Vanquisht in fight, & our St George has Cufft;
With Guy & Amadis, & all the Crue
Of Worthy Warriours met wth, now were true;
This I'le beleive, Such Monsters have beene ever,
But then the Knight;—oh let him now or never
Free the distresséd Damsell; See she Stands
Bound to the Rocke, wth Buttocks in her hands.
Away! Squibbs of Scurrilitie; 'twas Shame
First taught vs cloths; we peccant, put a blame
To each Remote! Sons of the first offence;
'Twas given mee, is our Plea of Innocence;
Wee all were gvilty, & each to his Eies
Had rear'd an Image, for to Idollize:
And severally we ayméd the same Thing;
Liberty with, if not, without a King.
Something we did proiect, our selves to please
Wth thin Imaginations to our Ease;
This Small Tarantula, did fire the Blood
To severall Passions, as the Humor Stood;
And like Calabrian Swains, for remedie
Each dancéd to his Pipe, or Dance or Dye;
All present State is irksome; & wee frame
Felicity at distance, by some Name
Allicient to the Passion holds our Thought
Then present; as we are, or feare a Doubt.
First taught vs cloths; we peccant, put a blame
To each Remote! Sons of the first offence;
'Twas given mee, is our Plea of Innocence;
Wee all were gvilty, & each to his Eies
Had rear'd an Image, for to Idollize:
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Liberty with, if not, without a King.
Something we did proiect, our selves to please
Wth thin Imaginations to our Ease;
This Small Tarantula, did fire the Blood
To severall Passions, as the Humor Stood;
And like Calabrian Swains, for remedie
Each dancéd to his Pipe, or Dance or Dye;
All present State is irksome; & wee frame
Felicity at distance, by some Name
Allicient to the Passion holds our Thought
Then present; as we are, or feare a Doubt.
I doe not know; but though perhaps I have
To my owne Private, had reflects, as grave
On my Condition, as Another who
Puts on a Stricter Forme & Deeper Brow;
I never found, but the Attempt was vaine
And noe Man's Brest, yet ever lodg'd his Braine.
Wee Fancy at a distance, & contrive
Beatitude in future, but still live
Distracted to the End our Selves propose.
Thus to our selves, our selves still interpose;
Wee are our owne deceivers; or to Say
Punctually, each Man is a Remora
Clapt to the Vessell of his owne Affaire,
And his owne purposes hinders; might I dare
I would not free the ioynéd Polities
Of States, from the Subverting fantasies,
From the Imperiall Scepter, to the Crum's
Of Magistracie in Mechanicke Thumbs;
Vnder each forme wee bind or loose ye right
Not to its Iustice but our Appetite;
And our Corruptions, our deprav'd desire,
Makes one scale of the Ballance, ever higher;
Nothing is Right, but what our selves may please;
For Settled Bodies are not still at Ease.
The Gout or Dropsie, men; soe may a State,
Lethargicke be, or inarticulate;
For each Thing to the severall Fantasye
Is a Defect, or a Deformitie;
A Beautie, an Embellishment, or what
Our Interests, or Affections give it at.
To my owne Private, had reflects, as grave
On my Condition, as Another who
Puts on a Stricter Forme & Deeper Brow;
I never found, but the Attempt was vaine
And noe Man's Brest, yet ever lodg'd his Braine.
Wee Fancy at a distance, & contrive
Beatitude in future, but still live
Distracted to the End our Selves propose.
Thus to our selves, our selves still interpose;
Wee are our owne deceivers; or to Say
Punctually, each Man is a Remora
Clapt to the Vessell of his owne Affaire,
And his owne purposes hinders; might I dare
I would not free the ioynéd Polities
Of States, from the Subverting fantasies,
From the Imperiall Scepter, to the Crum's
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Vnder each forme wee bind or loose ye right
Not to its Iustice but our Appetite;
And our Corruptions, our deprav'd desire,
Makes one scale of the Ballance, ever higher;
Nothing is Right, but what our selves may please;
For Settled Bodies are not still at Ease.
The Gout or Dropsie, men; soe may a State,
Lethargicke be, or inarticulate;
For each Thing to the severall Fantasye
Is a Defect, or a Deformitie;
A Beautie, an Embellishment, or what
Our Interests, or Affections give it at.
Iupiter's Ears are rent wth croaking still;
The Frogs have noe King, but too good, or ill;
The Spaune of Earth, are Giants to this Day,
They will nor Gods, nor Power from Gods, obey;
The Mountaines of disorder'd Thoughts, they bring
All but one Pile; for Cōmonwealth, or King;
Though yet the stronger Boast of Libertie
To most men stands in a Cōmunitie.
The Frogs have noe King, but too good, or ill;
The Spaune of Earth, are Giants to this Day,
They will nor Gods, nor Power from Gods, obey;
The Mountaines of disorder'd Thoughts, they bring
All but one Pile; for Cōmonwealth, or King;
Though yet the stronger Boast of Libertie
To most men stands in a Cōmunitie.
And everie Tongve, can varnish ore that Face
Wch is but now, the Same, she ever was;
The Ladie of the Wood was never seene,
Another Eccho, or the Fayerie Queene;
To give the fruiture of each desire,
The Ignis fatuus, all danke Brains to fire.
Thus ignorant Spectators, when they See
Our Map-Groteskors, thinke they reall be;
Thus what the Wise Egiptians, did intend
By Misticke Hieroglificks, in the end
Became Idolatrie; Some Heads discover
Noe more in Things then the meer forms lay'd over;
These the Ryphæan Hills, where Griphons breed
And Ambigenerous Centaurs, first did rise:
Settled Opinions, from non-Entities.
Wch is but now, the Same, she ever was;
The Ladie of the Wood was never seene,
Another Eccho, or the Fayerie Queene;
To give the fruiture of each desire,
The Ignis fatuus, all danke Brains to fire.
Thus ignorant Spectators, when they See
Our Map-Groteskors, thinke they reall be;
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By Misticke Hieroglificks, in the end
Became Idolatrie; Some Heads discover
Noe more in Things then the meer forms lay'd over;
These the Ryphæan Hills, where Griphons breed
And Ambigenerous Centaurs, first did rise:
Settled Opinions, from non-Entities.
But ah! there is not such a Thing at all
To be expected, in the Generall
Societie of Men; to make it sure
Is from our selves; the inward mind Secure,
Affects not giddy noyse, nor fears the Sway
Of any Power, acting any way.
And this is Libertie; this we may find,
This we may keep; thus happie in our mind
All Government is easie; and may be
Made one, or Any, Equall Libertie.
To be expected, in the Generall
Societie of Men; to make it sure
Is from our selves; the inward mind Secure,
Affects not giddy noyse, nor fears the Sway
Of any Power, acting any way.
And this is Libertie; this we may find,
This we may keep; thus happie in our mind
All Government is easie; and may be
Made one, or Any, Equall Libertie.
Let those who seeke and cannot find her yet
Within their inward selves, ne're hope to get
Over the Hill; but with poore Sysiphus
Begin againe; or in the Euripus
Which their owne Curiosities first found
Satisfie for their Error, & be Drown'd.
Within their inward selves, ne're hope to get
Over the Hill; but with poore Sysiphus
Begin againe; or in the Euripus
Which their owne Curiosities first found
Satisfie for their Error, & be Drown'd.
For Publike busines: who cannot find
Liberty, vnder any Forme design'd;
But hopes, by change, that it may perfect grow.
Ah! may they,—as wee found it now;
Vnder another Name, a Power, Swell'd high,
Wth all the full Effects of Tyrrannye;
Their weake portending fears, did but Suggest;
Now Strongly manag'd, to Secure the Rest.
Liberty, vnder any Forme design'd;
But hopes, by change, that it may perfect grow.
Ah! may they,—as wee found it now;
Vnder another Name, a Power, Swell'd high,
Wth all the full Effects of Tyrrannye;
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Now Strongly manag'd, to Secure the Rest.
Thus farre our deep resentments, wee may tell;
'Twas ill atcheiv'd; if it Succeed, 'tis well.
'Twas ill atcheiv'd; if it Succeed, 'tis well.
Idyll 2.
But yt I know my heart, I could contemne
All Government, & Quarrell wth the Name,
Or wth as great an Ease assert the Hand
Of any wch wee see, or vnderstand.
Since Man has lost himselfe, it is but Iust
He suffer, to the Libertie he lost;
For once that word had weight, & whineing Man
Hangs to the Plumme; let fall, a Child againe;
Squints or'e his Shoulders & is either caught
Backe into Hell; or Stands a Heap of Salt;
Astonishment, or Fury, fills him vp
Beyond his Faith, or yet beyond his Hope.
All Government, & Quarrell wth the Name,
Or wth as great an Ease assert the Hand
Of any wch wee see, or vnderstand.
Since Man has lost himselfe, it is but Iust
He suffer, to the Libertie he lost;
For once that word had weight, & whineing Man
Hangs to the Plumme; let fall, a Child againe;
Squints or'e his Shoulders & is either caught
Backe into Hell; or Stands a Heap of Salt;
Astonishment, or Fury, fills him vp
Beyond his Faith, or yet beyond his Hope.
'Tis easie to speake hard; but where we groane
Vnder the Yoake, wee rather vse our owne;
Passions sitt heavy; Tirant greife, may lay
A Wast in Witt, and force it any way;
As tender Soules, tost in a flood of feares
When they want wordes express themselves in tears;
For Nature Charg'd, assayes the weakest part
And pressing Thoughts, tumble downe, hills of Art;
The Iutty of Discretion, & the wide
Meadow of Fancy, drownéd in the Tide;
Stand, neither Fence nor Beautie; one drown'd heape
And not an Arke! poore Man! how shall he Scape!
Vnder the Yoake, wee rather vse our owne;
Passions sitt heavy; Tirant greife, may lay
A Wast in Witt, and force it any way;
As tender Soules, tost in a flood of feares
When they want wordes express themselves in tears;
For Nature Charg'd, assayes the weakest part
And pressing Thoughts, tumble downe, hills of Art;
The Iutty of Discretion, & the wide
Meadow of Fancy, drownéd in the Tide;
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And not an Arke! poore Man! how shall he Scape!
Wee've wrapt our selfe yet warmer, & ye Corke
Boyes the lost Anchor; if it be our worke,
To Combat Seas, & Riot in the Deepe;
Strike a bold Arme, 'tis ours; methinks I sleepe
Now on a Dolphin's back; Ship-threat'ninge Shoales
Bind nearer Shore; the monstrous Whale (wch Roles
The Ocean, wth his Breath, & Yawnes the Brine
As its recesse) his wonted path declines.
What feare ye old Harpe Strikes! for 'tis not all
Fable you read; Pithægorus may Call
Wisedome, by many Names; & Somewhat nere
Divinitie, give to the Nations here;
Silence a happines here taught, as though
Words were soe much a Dagger; did I know
'T wiser were not to Speake then where to Speake
May ease the Pang, I'de hold; but these are weake
Dreames, in Beatitude, & Sickly Tasts
Of Somewhat, for a cure, wch over-hasts
The fainted Spirits, & a Caspian Trance
Whistles the Blood new measures to her Dance;
For Feavered Minds, who their owne Pallats dresse
Wth hopes & Feares, Shift Sides, & find noe Ease.
Let vs not dreame our Time; though Fame pursued
Make dangers Easie, cōmentaried Blood
Transforms the Sheet, & horrid Murder made;
Glory keepes Shop, and makes it a free Trade;
Empire, the Law of Armes; wee over-paint
Iustice, still sworded, but her Scales doth want.
Boyes the lost Anchor; if it be our worke,
To Combat Seas, & Riot in the Deepe;
Strike a bold Arme, 'tis ours; methinks I sleepe
Now on a Dolphin's back; Ship-threat'ninge Shoales
Bind nearer Shore; the monstrous Whale (wch Roles
The Ocean, wth his Breath, & Yawnes the Brine
As its recesse) his wonted path declines.
What feare ye old Harpe Strikes! for 'tis not all
Fable you read; Pithægorus may Call
Wisedome, by many Names; & Somewhat nere
Divinitie, give to the Nations here;
Silence a happines here taught, as though
Words were soe much a Dagger; did I know
'T wiser were not to Speake then where to Speake
May ease the Pang, I'de hold; but these are weake
Dreames, in Beatitude, & Sickly Tasts
Of Somewhat, for a cure, wch over-hasts
The fainted Spirits, & a Caspian Trance
Whistles the Blood new measures to her Dance;
For Feavered Minds, who their owne Pallats dresse
Wth hopes & Feares, Shift Sides, & find noe Ease.
Let vs not dreame our Time; though Fame pursued
Make dangers Easie, cōmentaried Blood
Transforms the Sheet, & horrid Murder made;
Glory keepes Shop, and makes it a free Trade;
215
Iustice, still sworded, but her Scales doth want.
'Tis a sad Truth, & though the story faile
Eaten by Time, & Cunninge to availe
The Pedigree of Power; Old Nimrod's Dust
(Too mighty for one Vrne) breakes ope the Chest
And rides vpon all windes; where every graine
Springs Tirant, & the world yet feeles his Raigne.
Such propagating Iellyes, nere distill
Without their Mandrakes; whose first hissings kill.
How much more fatall, more emproved Slime,
When Gallowes-Spawne, but only threatens him
Whose lucke, or Curiositie, dislodg'd
Him first; but these dire Basilisks keepe Edg'd
Vnto all Commers; & as Safe endure
Her Sight (wer all writ true) as breathing Power.
Eaten by Time, & Cunninge to availe
The Pedigree of Power; Old Nimrod's Dust
(Too mighty for one Vrne) breakes ope the Chest
And rides vpon all windes; where every graine
Springs Tirant, & the world yet feeles his Raigne.
Such propagating Iellyes, nere distill
Without their Mandrakes; whose first hissings kill.
How much more fatall, more emproved Slime,
When Gallowes-Spawne, but only threatens him
Whose lucke, or Curiositie, dislodg'd
Him first; but these dire Basilisks keepe Edg'd
Vnto all Commers; & as Safe endure
Her Sight (wer all writ true) as breathing Power.
When the Mad Youth of Macedon, (whose Pride
Scorn'd Phillip, Father, would be Deified;)
Had Swept the panting East, & horrid Crimes
Open'd his way to Conquest, in the Times;
Fatt Persia, t'his Voluptuous Appetite
Fell, like her boasted Bird, one Morsell Bitt;
Rage triumpht in his Will; & fury claw'd
His helpers; & the world, by one, was aw'd.
One, who abate his errors, and display
His faire Side from what flatterie can Say
Was Equall'd in his Hoast; the Drunken edge
Of Iealousie, strikes Vertue; Insolent Rage
Tramples downe Pietie; & though wee keepe
Reverence, to Faith, when wee see Cæsar weepe
O're Pompey's head; who smiles not to delude
Himselfe, in such a Pitty? who pursued
Ambition, through their Empire; German Wasts
Manur'd with Native Blood, & sped as fast
(Lavish in Murders) as their Rhine; wch gives
Noe pause, till the wide Ocean him receives.
Hee plow'd Iberian Sands; well-peopled Gaule,
Lay'd desart; proud in Blood; & wears butt All
The Tropheyes of his Arme, rude servitour
To Puttocks; layd the Earth, one Table o're
For empty Wolves; ye Slaughter-man of Fate;
And as he had not yet attained the height
Of Horror, in Distinction; Hee must act
His owne portentous Dreame; Rome though Sack't,
His Mother, soe polluted, was not All;
But he must make her Childless; & ye fall
Of her long-boasted Senate, paves the new
Name of his Glory; yet hee's Modest too,
And off'red Soveraigntie refuses, more
To Swell himselfe; Names vary, not the Power.
'Tis not the fatall Rex, doth only Sting;
A Commonwealth's a Tirant, as a King;
And gown'd Austerity, though it may weare
More Face, is but the Arme which threatens here.
Scorn'd Phillip, Father, would be Deified;)
Had Swept the panting East, & horrid Crimes
Open'd his way to Conquest, in the Times;
Fatt Persia, t'his Voluptuous Appetite
Fell, like her boasted Bird, one Morsell Bitt;
Rage triumpht in his Will; & fury claw'd
His helpers; & the world, by one, was aw'd.
One, who abate his errors, and display
His faire Side from what flatterie can Say
Was Equall'd in his Hoast; the Drunken edge
Of Iealousie, strikes Vertue; Insolent Rage
216
Reverence, to Faith, when wee see Cæsar weepe
O're Pompey's head; who smiles not to delude
Himselfe, in such a Pitty? who pursued
Ambition, through their Empire; German Wasts
Manur'd with Native Blood, & sped as fast
(Lavish in Murders) as their Rhine; wch gives
Noe pause, till the wide Ocean him receives.
Hee plow'd Iberian Sands; well-peopled Gaule,
Lay'd desart; proud in Blood; & wears butt All
The Tropheyes of his Arme, rude servitour
To Puttocks; layd the Earth, one Table o're
For empty Wolves; ye Slaughter-man of Fate;
And as he had not yet attained the height
Of Horror, in Distinction; Hee must act
His owne portentous Dreame; Rome though Sack't,
His Mother, soe polluted, was not All;
But he must make her Childless; & ye fall
Of her long-boasted Senate, paves the new
Name of his Glory; yet hee's Modest too,
And off'red Soveraigntie refuses, more
To Swell himselfe; Names vary, not the Power.
'Tis not the fatall Rex, doth only Sting;
A Commonwealth's a Tirant, as a King;
And gown'd Austerity, though it may weare
More Face, is but the Arme which threatens here.
How could I Pitty Rage; or foole my owne
Reason, to praise hands of Destruction;
I should lament his Name, who Tirant once
Over the World, lash't home, when threatned France
And Italy Subdued, Seal'd Empire, nigh
To Carthage; I could mourne that Prodigie
Whipt by the Surly Gowne; Emulous in
His Glory, feare his Power; for 'tis noe Sin
To thinke Men wicked; & the Itch of Rule
Prompts any meanes; noe Villanie soe foule
Soe neare to ruine, but they must attempt.
Poore Hanniball, is now in Banishment;
And seemes now old to beg a Life; whose hand
Repreiv'd the world; ev'n those who now Cōmand
The inexorable Roman, were but what
One Step had given; Handy-Capps in Fate;
He who (if Names be proper,) frighted once
The Civill World: worne out, by Puissance
Of Faction; to a Barbarous King doth flye;
And hoary, has but Power, alone to Dye.
Reason, to praise hands of Destruction;
I should lament his Name, who Tirant once
217
And Italy Subdued, Seal'd Empire, nigh
To Carthage; I could mourne that Prodigie
Whipt by the Surly Gowne; Emulous in
His Glory, feare his Power; for 'tis noe Sin
To thinke Men wicked; & the Itch of Rule
Prompts any meanes; noe Villanie soe foule
Soe neare to ruine, but they must attempt.
Poore Hanniball, is now in Banishment;
And seemes now old to beg a Life; whose hand
Repreiv'd the world; ev'n those who now Cōmand
The inexorable Roman, were but what
One Step had given; Handy-Capps in Fate;
He who (if Names be proper,) frighted once
The Civill World: worne out, by Puissance
Of Faction; to a Barbarous King doth flye;
And hoary, has but Power, alone to Dye.
Now let Agrippa laugh, whilst we survay
A nearer Draught; the Hecticke has ye Day
To cease in, but drinks Marrow; till the whole
Frame, fall a Ruine; let the Subiect ffoole
Who Squares by others Lines, or drawes a Scheme
To please himselfe, by Fancy, feares redeeme;
Let him conferre a forme; & Regulate
Distempers, incident to any State:
The harmeles Lumpe, of his Invention;
Yet licke it vp, to Life, Dominion.
It Spreads an Arméd Paw; & runs ye Ile
Bear in full Shape, to Ravin, wast, & Spoyle.
A nearer Draught; the Hecticke has ye Day
To cease in, but drinks Marrow; till the whole
Frame, fall a Ruine; let the Subiect ffoole
Who Squares by others Lines, or drawes a Scheme
To please himselfe, by Fancy, feares redeeme;
Let him conferre a forme; & Regulate
Distempers, incident to any State:
The harmeles Lumpe, of his Invention;
Yet licke it vp, to Life, Dominion.
218
Bear in full Shape, to Ravin, wast, & Spoyle.
Y'are yet as wide, of what we would propose
As had you Studied, Seaven yeare, the Prose,
Of the wild German Riddler; & wee wheele
Noe further with the Time, then to reveale
The folly of all Seekinges; Not the Name
Tickles mee yet; who cannot to ye frame
Allotted, Serve, is Rebell to the Vow
Made in offence; to be observéd too;
For 'twas the easy mulct, when Man had lost
Himselfe, & Scorn'd Creation; to be thrust
Servile to his owne Hand; & He who bore
The Image of his Maker, wth the Power,
Imediately consign'd, Ambitious
Of more, lost That; & delves the Infamous
Mine of his Follyes; that he might repent
His Error better, by the Punishment;
A Glasse of former Freedome; where the Eye
Yet Sees the Image; but Impossiblie
Attempted, Shunning the profane Embrace
Of Humane Armes; Slipps, Shaddow, in a Glasse.
As had you Studied, Seaven yeare, the Prose,
Of the wild German Riddler; & wee wheele
Noe further with the Time, then to reveale
The folly of all Seekinges; Not the Name
Tickles mee yet; who cannot to ye frame
Allotted, Serve, is Rebell to the Vow
Made in offence; to be observéd too;
For 'twas the easy mulct, when Man had lost
Himselfe, & Scorn'd Creation; to be thrust
Servile to his owne Hand; & He who bore
The Image of his Maker, wth the Power,
Imediately consign'd, Ambitious
Of more, lost That; & delves the Infamous
Mine of his Follyes; that he might repent
His Error better, by the Punishment;
A Glasse of former Freedome; where the Eye
Yet Sees the Image; but Impossiblie
Attempted, Shunning the profane Embrace
Of Humane Armes; Slipps, Shaddow, in a Glasse.
Idyll iii.
I envy noe Man; nor I scarce admire
Any Man's Fancy to my owne desire;
Wee looke at one Same thing; & the formes come
But only differ'd by the medium.
False Glasse of Ayre, or ye weake Opticke Scarce
Receives her Rayes, or can her Atomes peirce;
Purblind in Ethicks, as ye Running Hare,
Gloats either way; Fore-rights nor Hope nor Feare;
And Crownéd Ioy rackes Sence; while Reason (yet
Frustrate in Levies) Depos'd Prince doth Sitt
In a Cold Corner; ye Swolne Passions, now
(Growne-Courtiers late) contemne ye Loyall few.
Any Man's Fancy to my owne desire;
Wee looke at one Same thing; & the formes come
But only differ'd by the medium.
False Glasse of Ayre, or ye weake Opticke Scarce
219
Purblind in Ethicks, as ye Running Hare,
Gloats either way; Fore-rights nor Hope nor Feare;
And Crownéd Ioy rackes Sence; while Reason (yet
Frustrate in Levies) Depos'd Prince doth Sitt
In a Cold Corner; ye Swolne Passions, now
(Growne-Courtiers late) contemne ye Loyall few.
See Iustice, Pietie, & Prudence plac'd
Worthy a King, the Honour of one Breast;
Make Syracusa blush, to see a Prince
Above her Numbers, whose Experience
Might well praise little Things; & Tiptoe crye
The Lagi Stemme, in bright-Hair'd Ptolomy
A God-like linage Sūm'd; whose Mother Spred
A part of Heaven; Vowéd Tribute of her Head,
A Constellation Stands; let Truth assert
What flatterie may force; Power Malapert
Vnder the wing of Vertue, Vulture proves;
And hatch'd by Innocence, Blood seekes & Loves.
Worthy a King, the Honour of one Breast;
Make Syracusa blush, to see a Prince
Above her Numbers, whose Experience
Might well praise little Things; & Tiptoe crye
The Lagi Stemme, in bright-Hair'd Ptolomy
A God-like linage Sūm'd; whose Mother Spred
A part of Heaven; Vowéd Tribute of her Head,
A Constellation Stands; let Truth assert
What flatterie may force; Power Malapert
Vnder the wing of Vertue, Vulture proves;
And hatch'd by Innocence, Blood seekes & Loves.
Were Maiestie as Calme as we have knowne
It in one Starre, through the whole Horizon;
Vnstain'd as our Ideas; or the Hand
More Spotles, who late rul'd ye Land;
Who if a place be Lawfull to assigne
In heaven, for Soules departed, there doth raigne.
Yet Name of a Prince, & Shade of Royall Power,
Warmes Insolence in others; Names, noe more
Delude the World; Kings Suffer, when they give
Inhærent Light, long-fixt Prærogative,
To fill a glareing Office; or confer
It to the Civetts of an Officer,
Whose Tooth-picker, like ye officious Bird
Betrayes him Sleeping; & ye Ratt has Stirr'd
His bleeding Entrayles, Ere aware; Soe delves
Ichneumon Fraud, & Kings but Sell themselves.
It in one Starre, through the whole Horizon;
Vnstain'd as our Ideas; or the Hand
More Spotles, who late rul'd ye Land;
Who if a place be Lawfull to assigne
In heaven, for Soules departed, there doth raigne.
Yet Name of a Prince, & Shade of Royall Power,
Warmes Insolence in others; Names, noe more
Delude the World; Kings Suffer, when they give
Inhærent Light, long-fixt Prærogative,
220
It to the Civetts of an Officer,
Whose Tooth-picker, like ye officious Bird
Betrayes him Sleeping; & ye Ratt has Stirr'd
His bleeding Entrayles, Ere aware; Soe delves
Ichneumon Fraud, & Kings but Sell themselves.
I cannot weane my selfe soe perfectly
But with Affection I name Royaltie;
And whimper to the Teat, though Strong enough
To digest meat, less Savory & more Tough.
Have you not tooke mee tardy from my Theam?
Led out a Gazer to the falling Beame?
Strucke in a Village Fright, to see the Tayle
Of such a Comet; growne Star-gazers All;
Our ignorant Gvesses please the neighbourhood,
Fate, in a Comet, Seen & vnderstood.
Wee, who low-read in Mathematicks, beard
Planets & Meteors, equally enspir'd,
And know noe Region higher then the Moone;
Admit noe lower, but whip vp & downe
The grateing Orbes; all in a tracke, t'enflame
Their Naffes drye-worne & crack their stretchéd Teeme
The Aire dry Tinder to ye Sparkes, wch Stop;
In the right Box fir'd, wee light Candles vp.
But with Affection I name Royaltie;
And whimper to the Teat, though Strong enough
To digest meat, less Savory & more Tough.
Have you not tooke mee tardy from my Theam?
Led out a Gazer to the falling Beame?
Strucke in a Village Fright, to see the Tayle
Of such a Comet; growne Star-gazers All;
Our ignorant Gvesses please the neighbourhood,
Fate, in a Comet, Seen & vnderstood.
Wee, who low-read in Mathematicks, beard
Planets & Meteors, equally enspir'd,
And know noe Region higher then the Moone;
Admit noe lower, but whip vp & downe
The grateing Orbes; all in a tracke, t'enflame
Their Naffes drye-worne & crack their stretchéd Teeme
The Aire dry Tinder to ye Sparkes, wch Stop;
In the right Box fir'd, wee light Candles vp.
How Passions rise in Men! Everie Thing
Adds to the Circle, to make Dæmon Spring.
Had wee laid out a Systeme of ye Sphære
(And form'd iust Motions, by a Regular
Transition, to the Old, or new Designe
Tycho, or harder names to fill a Line;)
Y' had knitt a Brow, our Glasses could not peirce;
Now all looks faire; your Eyes (the vtmost Starres
Of our discoverie) bright Seen; portend
A gratefull Omen; Laughter, cannot Spend
A vaine Breath; Folly takes it, wth full Sayle,
And hardly Witt but Tackles to that Gale.
Adds to the Circle, to make Dæmon Spring.
Had wee laid out a Systeme of ye Sphære
(And form'd iust Motions, by a Regular
Transition, to the Old, or new Designe
221
Y' had knitt a Brow, our Glasses could not peirce;
Now all looks faire; your Eyes (the vtmost Starres
Of our discoverie) bright Seen; portend
A gratefull Omen; Laughter, cannot Spend
A vaine Breath; Folly takes it, wth full Sayle,
And hardly Witt but Tackles to that Gale.
Wee're tight & readie-rigg'd; one purchast Knott
Helps at a need, and we can draw it out;
The Advantage of our voyage; all the world
Trades, in this magicke; though the foole be hurl'd
Spleen-Shittle-Cocke; Witt to emprove the worke
Will often Spare a Feather to the Corke.
Helps at a need, and we can draw it out;
The Advantage of our voyage; all the world
Trades, in this magicke; though the foole be hurl'd
Spleen-Shittle-Cocke; Witt to emprove the worke
Will often Spare a Feather to the Corke.
This, though it fall in Trifles, is but what
Runs with full Streame, in the affaires of State;
Where Tyrranny enthron'd, laughs Murder out,
Makes Truth a Solæcisme; whirls a Doubt,
State-Tarriers; Provocations, to the Raw
Triall of Witts; Concealments good in Law.
Runs with full Streame, in the affaires of State;
Where Tyrranny enthron'd, laughs Murder out,
Makes Truth a Solæcisme; whirls a Doubt,
State-Tarriers; Provocations, to the Raw
Triall of Witts; Concealments good in Law.
The Imposture, boasts his head, whose velvet brow
Shunn'd weaker Twigs; antler'd & Palméd now,
By the Herd prick't on Cheife; combats at length
Huge Trees, to trye his horne; & sūm'd in full Strength
Proud in Prærogative, he goares them out
Stand in his way, now rageing at the Rutt.
Shunn'd weaker Twigs; antler'd & Palméd now,
By the Herd prick't on Cheife; combats at length
Huge Trees, to trye his horne; & sūm'd in full Strength
Proud in Prærogative, he goares them out
Stand in his way, now rageing at the Rutt.
The Lust of Tyrants (over-bauded still
By hooded Law) carnalls the world at Will.
Prostitute Men, are by Corruption led,
Sinners; & weepe away their Maidenhead;
Their Boast, their Glory, the īmaculate
Seale of their Reason, Green Wax of the State;
Th' Old Charter, lost, new Letters-pattents give
Vs Libertie to wander with a Breife;
Irresiant, now content; the Trade emproves,
And Sturdy Rogve, Setts vp; if Vertue loves
The Cell of Quiet, happie, may She Sitt;
The World is Busines; & wee Trafficke it;
To this dere Sphinx; wrackt Thebans all ye world
Are Prey by turnes; as had the Furies hurl'd
A brand of knotted Sulphur, to Surprise
Men Sleeping; Nero, laughs, when flames arife.
By hooded Law) carnalls the world at Will.
Prostitute Men, are by Corruption led,
Sinners; & weepe away their Maidenhead;
222
Seale of their Reason, Green Wax of the State;
Th' Old Charter, lost, new Letters-pattents give
Vs Libertie to wander with a Breife;
Irresiant, now content; the Trade emproves,
And Sturdy Rogve, Setts vp; if Vertue loves
The Cell of Quiet, happie, may She Sitt;
The World is Busines; & wee Trafficke it;
To this dere Sphinx; wrackt Thebans all ye world
Are Prey by turnes; as had the Furies hurl'd
A brand of knotted Sulphur, to Surprise
Men Sleeping; Nero, laughs, when flames arife.
But 'tis an easie Chord; ye Flax of Law
Makes a Soft Trāmell; let a higher Awe
Stifle affrighted Reason, & put on
Chains, lock't & Bolted, by Religion;
Let Numa's will, Stand next Divinitie;
And the dread Whisper, publish't, Sacred be;
Cannons inviolate: what creeping Power
Wants? The fine Artifice, to plaister o're
These Vlcers with a Balsamum, may bring
The Mouth clos'd vp! & walke a very King!
For vnto everie Power, the Attribute
Is proper, though perhaps the Name not Suite.
Legions of Men, whom Men had ner restrain'd
Are Cow'd, to obey the Dictates of a Hind:
Dumbe Innocent! the Forgeries of Power,
May levie, Lead, & Conquer; men noe more
(Chill'd with these fallacies) dispute the true
Right, of their Being; but the Dreames pursue
Made to amaze them; if some bolder wakes
The Mangie Scribe tells what ye Pigeon speakes.
Makes a Soft Trāmell; let a higher Awe
Stifle affrighted Reason, & put on
Chains, lock't & Bolted, by Religion;
Let Numa's will, Stand next Divinitie;
And the dread Whisper, publish't, Sacred be;
Cannons inviolate: what creeping Power
Wants? The fine Artifice, to plaister o're
These Vlcers with a Balsamum, may bring
The Mouth clos'd vp! & walke a very King!
For vnto everie Power, the Attribute
Is proper, though perhaps the Name not Suite.
Legions of Men, whom Men had ner restrain'd
Are Cow'd, to obey the Dictates of a Hind:
Dumbe Innocent! the Forgeries of Power,
May levie, Lead, & Conquer; men noe more
(Chill'd with these fallacies) dispute the true
223
Made to amaze them; if some bolder wakes
The Mangie Scribe tells what ye Pigeon speakes.
Let Mecha rant to all the vanities
Of long-lost Hāmon; Alexander, tryes
Vntrodden Sandes, to his Ambition;
And the God (still to freind) affirmes him One;
Now, what the Sultan Seekes, may nearer home
Be gott; when Camells Dedicated, come
Backe to fatt Pastures, freed from any Charge
Of future Burthen, happie Beasts, enlarge
Themselves, to Act our Follies, & at length
May to their Naturall vse, bestow their Strength:
Not the great Tyrant, (who like vermin may
Snap Man as Easily as you a Flea)
Dare touch this Pilgrim-Camell; as 't wer done
A Reverence to 't; but this maintains his owne;
For his loud Ancestor enacted all
Their Superstitions, in this wheele to fall;
And he but lives, a Prophet to ye Sway
Of Empire as he taught them to Obay.
Of long-lost Hāmon; Alexander, tryes
Vntrodden Sandes, to his Ambition;
And the God (still to freind) affirmes him One;
Now, what the Sultan Seekes, may nearer home
Be gott; when Camells Dedicated, come
Backe to fatt Pastures, freed from any Charge
Of future Burthen, happie Beasts, enlarge
Themselves, to Act our Follies, & at length
May to their Naturall vse, bestow their Strength:
Not the great Tyrant, (who like vermin may
Snap Man as Easily as you a Flea)
Dare touch this Pilgrim-Camell; as 't wer done
A Reverence to 't; but this maintains his owne;
For his loud Ancestor enacted all
Their Superstitions, in this wheele to fall;
And he but lives, a Prophet to ye Sway
Of Empire as he taught them to Obay.
Let Sainted Fooles & Madmen Cannoniz'd,
Advance the Rule; where Witt & Art despis'd
Vpbraid the Boast of old Civilitie:
Greece, more a fable then her Fables be;
And put the lye vpon our Admiration
That ever there was Glory, in that Nation;
Who rul'd the World, in Letters, & præscrib'd
Rome famous, & the Westerne Earth beside
Now Sitts, our Pitty; and weake Clearkes, may raise
Some doubts, what Socrates or Plato, was;
Bestride their Academie, and Despise
Laconia Valiant, or Olivia wise:
And take the Old Scandall, (now a Truth) to heart;
What will not lyinge Greece, written insert?
Convince the Stagyrite, in Puny Witt,
From th' Arrogant vncertainties he writt;
And his long-venerated Axioms, bind
Postill' t'Heredotus; that Truth shall find
A Narrow Roome to tread in, & the few
Vn-bearded Criticks, Cloth her out a new.
Advance the Rule; where Witt & Art despis'd
Vpbraid the Boast of old Civilitie:
Greece, more a fable then her Fables be;
And put the lye vpon our Admiration
That ever there was Glory, in that Nation;
Who rul'd the World, in Letters, & præscrib'd
Rome famous, & the Westerne Earth beside
224
Some doubts, what Socrates or Plato, was;
Bestride their Academie, and Despise
Laconia Valiant, or Olivia wise:
And take the Old Scandall, (now a Truth) to heart;
What will not lyinge Greece, written insert?
Convince the Stagyrite, in Puny Witt,
From th' Arrogant vncertainties he writt;
And his long-venerated Axioms, bind
Postill' t'Heredotus; that Truth shall find
A Narrow Roome to tread in, & the few
Vn-bearded Criticks, Cloth her out a new.
Soe Shrinks the world, though Men & Names yet keepe
The Ephori, broad-wakeing, in the Sleepe
Of Sparta, long-forgotten, & the Rest
Like drunken Helots, either Act the Iest,
Their Rigours Shall impose, or weare their Lives
Prest in the Yoke of their Prerogatives.
The Ephori, broad-wakeing, in the Sleepe
Of Sparta, long-forgotten, & the Rest
Like drunken Helots, either Act the Iest,
Their Rigours Shall impose, or weare their Lives
Prest in the Yoke of their Prerogatives.
The World's an Ant-hill, & the little Grubbs
Stocke themselves warme, till ye swoln Paddock rubbs
Them out of Freehold, to enthrone himselfe
Lord of their Lives, & Maister of their Wealth.
Stocke themselves warme, till ye swoln Paddock rubbs
Them out of Freehold, to enthrone himselfe
Lord of their Lives, & Maister of their Wealth.
Idyll 4.
Nor wonder, if the loud Prærogative
Scatter our Dust, & licke our Sweat, to Live
With the Same Innocence, as Fishes Mudde;
Land-Cormorants may Challeng them for food;
Who Grasse to Lions? or Slaine Bullocks fling's
To Camells? ye whole world, through severall Things
Eats her selfe vp; the Estrich, may digest
A Broken Rocke, & on a Plough-Share feast;
Some, Eate ye fruits & some the Iuyce of Earth
Whose quicke returnes, bring second Fodders forth;
Fatted, to feed themselves; Arabia, yeilds
Noe Wonder, in her Bird, (if true) wch builds
Her funerall Pile, her Cradle; the world, weake
Reveiues her Selfe, & what the Ancients Speake
From the first Symbole, Traditorie Truth
Is soe indeed; if we observe the Growth
And decay of Things, the world is All
One Phœnix; & makes new originall
From her owne Ashes; as she one Day must
Start from one flame, new & refinéd Dust,
She now, in parcells, Dictates to her Earth
The Transmigration of an entire Birth;
Therfore I must Correct my Selfe, to know
Man, but a Feather; if he fall, or grow,
'Tis but observéd, till another Coat
Gives a new wing; & weare the Eye-sore out;
'Tis but a mewing Time; what matter if
Cold Gorges crampe the feet? Our Eyeass Life
Complaines vnpittied; we're indeed soe Dull
In the Nest-Gutt, wee Crye fasting & full;
Though Tyrranny, (big-Swolne, in all formes,
Vulture or Moll) doe Swoop, or hunt out wormes.
Men borne for bondage; 'tis not in our Choice
How wee shall Bleed; if Blood be made ye Price;
And 'tis as easie Smart, to give that Breath
In Ayre, as Earth; resolv'd a certaine Death:
For Kings act open-fac'd, but what of late
Wee See pursued, vnder the Masque of State;
Where fatted fellow-creepers, Dig new Seams
And catch it, warme-lay'd, delvinge ye extreames
Of the darke Centre, wth an Eager Foot;
And wee are Strangled ere our Neighbours know 't.
This yet I'de rather Shun, might I but creepe
To breath in Royall Ayre, then Dye soe Deepe.
Scatter our Dust, & licke our Sweat, to Live
With the Same Innocence, as Fishes Mudde;
Land-Cormorants may Challeng them for food;
Who Grasse to Lions? or Slaine Bullocks fling's
225
Eats her selfe vp; the Estrich, may digest
A Broken Rocke, & on a Plough-Share feast;
Some, Eate ye fruits & some the Iuyce of Earth
Whose quicke returnes, bring second Fodders forth;
Fatted, to feed themselves; Arabia, yeilds
Noe Wonder, in her Bird, (if true) wch builds
Her funerall Pile, her Cradle; the world, weake
Reveiues her Selfe, & what the Ancients Speake
From the first Symbole, Traditorie Truth
Is soe indeed; if we observe the Growth
And decay of Things, the world is All
One Phœnix; & makes new originall
From her owne Ashes; as she one Day must
Start from one flame, new & refinéd Dust,
She now, in parcells, Dictates to her Earth
The Transmigration of an entire Birth;
Therfore I must Correct my Selfe, to know
Man, but a Feather; if he fall, or grow,
'Tis but observéd, till another Coat
Gives a new wing; & weare the Eye-sore out;
'Tis but a mewing Time; what matter if
Cold Gorges crampe the feet? Our Eyeass Life
Complaines vnpittied; we're indeed soe Dull
In the Nest-Gutt, wee Crye fasting & full;
Though Tyrranny, (big-Swolne, in all formes,
Vulture or Moll) doe Swoop, or hunt out wormes.
Men borne for bondage; 'tis not in our Choice
226
And 'tis as easie Smart, to give that Breath
In Ayre, as Earth; resolv'd a certaine Death:
For Kings act open-fac'd, but what of late
Wee See pursued, vnder the Masque of State;
Where fatted fellow-creepers, Dig new Seams
And catch it, warme-lay'd, delvinge ye extreames
Of the darke Centre, wth an Eager Foot;
And wee are Strangled ere our Neighbours know 't.
This yet I'de rather Shun, might I but creepe
To breath in Royall Ayre, then Dye soe Deepe.
But nothing bootes my fancy, when I Span
My Selfe to Iudgment, in the Circle Man:
(And over-toil'd Affections, wounded Send
To Reason, at his need, my nearest freind;)
I boldly looke on Either, and refuse
Neither, but comply to the Genius
Directs all forme; I can as well keep bare
To a Cotton-Bench, as to a Velvet-Chaire;
'Tis all one to my Ease, to all the Right
I claime in Man; to all the Benefitt
Of Fortune; (if my former Errors had
Not lodg'd mee (they malignant Say, I) Madd;
For Sideing is a madnes, where the Hand
Acts to a Somewhat, we but vnderstand
In the Relations,) if the Essence be
Resolvéd through, in the necessitie.
I know noe Argument in Reason Springs
T'oppose the forme, by Cōmonwealths, or Kings;
Nor is 't a Sickly bending in the Blood
But a firme Truth, to what I've vnderstood
From the whole question; wch ill-stated, Swaies
Vs to our owne Affections Severall waies;
But to the Eye of Reason, (if wee must
Live vnder Power) all Power is Equall Iust.
My Selfe to Iudgment, in the Circle Man:
(And over-toil'd Affections, wounded Send
To Reason, at his need, my nearest freind;)
I boldly looke on Either, and refuse
Neither, but comply to the Genius
Directs all forme; I can as well keep bare
To a Cotton-Bench, as to a Velvet-Chaire;
'Tis all one to my Ease, to all the Right
I claime in Man; to all the Benefitt
Of Fortune; (if my former Errors had
Not lodg'd mee (they malignant Say, I) Madd;
For Sideing is a madnes, where the Hand
Acts to a Somewhat, we but vnderstand
In the Relations,) if the Essence be
Resolvéd through, in the necessitie.
I know noe Argument in Reason Springs
T'oppose the forme, by Cōmonwealths, or Kings;
227
But a firme Truth, to what I've vnderstood
From the whole question; wch ill-stated, Swaies
Vs to our owne Affections Severall waies;
But to the Eye of Reason, (if wee must
Live vnder Power) all Power is Equall Iust.
Man is a kind of Sea-weed (if we may
Run to the Simile, the World, a Sea;)
Wee lye weake Spriggs, wch vpon water floate;
Osyers, in Ayre, but Corrall at the Root;
Empire low-firm'd, a Plant congeal'd, a Rocke
Torne vp, a Babble, or a whistle-Stalke;
The large Amphibion now resolv'd is hung;
To make proud females was our wonder long.
Run to the Simile, the World, a Sea;)
Wee lye weake Spriggs, wch vpon water floate;
Osyers, in Ayre, but Corrall at the Root;
Empire low-firm'd, a Plant congeal'd, a Rocke
Torne vp, a Babble, or a whistle-Stalke;
The large Amphibion now resolv'd is hung;
To make proud females was our wonder long.
Empire & State, the formes of Government,
The Originall of Power, & the Discent,
Are now but Easie Problemes; a Discourse
For vnconcernéd Woemen; or what's worse
Taught Children quarrell Crown's; & can declaime
Power, wth their Spoone-meat, vnder any Name;
Can tumble Iunius Brutus, & conferre
The Phillipicks, with all our moderne Stirre;
And can name Oligarchy, wth more Ease
Then a Loome-flitter, can Church Hierarchies;
Such Definitions wth their Milke; & prove
Authority, to what their Mothers Love;
And See the Reason, ere they well can prate;
Who Rules the House, to Them governs ye State.
The Originall of Power, & the Discent,
Are now but Easie Problemes; a Discourse
For vnconcernéd Woemen; or what's worse
Taught Children quarrell Crown's; & can declaime
Power, wth their Spoone-meat, vnder any Name;
Can tumble Iunius Brutus, & conferre
The Phillipicks, with all our moderne Stirre;
And can name Oligarchy, wth more Ease
Then a Loome-flitter, can Church Hierarchies;
Such Definitions wth their Milke; & prove
Authority, to what their Mothers Love;
And See the Reason, ere they well can prate;
Who Rules the House, to Them governs ye State.
228
For my owne part, I love a Woeman Witt
As a Tam'd Hare, that Strikes a Drūming fitt;
Or the cag'd Squirrell, wth a Iing of Bells;
Mechanicke Entertaine! & the face Sells
Sometimes at better Rate, where they can top
The Cōmers; wth the Tangle of the Shop;
But whither Toothéd, run I, in mistake?
May the Sex live long flatter'd, for his Sake;
Who put the Witt vpon 'em, for a Boast,
And got his End, Such Labour, never Lost.
Draw out ye Scheme; take ye Ascendent right,
Iupiter; Venus lost, vnto our Sight;
And then read on; wee've whirl'd the Pin of State
Fraile Axis; & See Power, not Constellate;
Cæsar, (noe starre within our Region knowne,
Trust in a knott, of Tullie's mourning Gowne)
Is but a Wild-fire, to wast Senate Raggs,
And silence Cato, whose too bitter braggs
Of Libertie, Chain'd others, in the Quest,
And lost his owne; by a new Power opprest.
As a Tam'd Hare, that Strikes a Drūming fitt;
Or the cag'd Squirrell, wth a Iing of Bells;
Mechanicke Entertaine! & the face Sells
Sometimes at better Rate, where they can top
The Cōmers; wth the Tangle of the Shop;
But whither Toothéd, run I, in mistake?
May the Sex live long flatter'd, for his Sake;
Who put the Witt vpon 'em, for a Boast,
And got his End, Such Labour, never Lost.
Draw out ye Scheme; take ye Ascendent right,
Iupiter; Venus lost, vnto our Sight;
And then read on; wee've whirl'd the Pin of State
Fraile Axis; & See Power, not Constellate;
Cæsar, (noe starre within our Region knowne,
Trust in a knott, of Tullie's mourning Gowne)
Is but a Wild-fire, to wast Senate Raggs,
And silence Cato, whose too bitter braggs
Of Libertie, Chain'd others, in the Quest,
And lost his owne; by a new Power opprest.
The Slumbers of our Age, (if we could tell
Them out, broad-wakeing), ancient Dreams reveale;
If Life be little more, 'tis fond expence
To hang vp State, fring'd with a Reverence
For better Curtains; & wrought Pillow's bring
Pownc'd Law, Stitched Cōmon-wealth, & purled King;
More trouble to our Rest, lye downe & Sleepe
The Folly out, wch others Laugh, or Weepe.
Them out, broad-wakeing), ancient Dreams reveale;
If Life be little more, 'tis fond expence
To hang vp State, fring'd with a Reverence
For better Curtains; & wrought Pillow's bring
Pownc'd Law, Stitched Cōmon-wealth, & purled King;
More trouble to our Rest, lye downe & Sleepe
The Folly out, wch others Laugh, or Weepe.
229
Idyll 5.
If yet an Easie and familiar Draught
Of things be plaine enough, to Speake our Thought,
Well may he fare, whose Candor will Admit,
Our meaning; though he see not, where wee hitt;
The happie Age, has teem'd, & brought a new
Race of Discerners; can be wise, as you;
Can Squeeze an Author, wth a Ioynt; & raise
In Sea's of Præiudice, Mountains of Praise,
By an Imposeing Faith; an Easie Smile
Argues the Ieast; the frowne a Deeper Stile;
And your Attention clawes the Humor, to
A Shrugge; then pause, & Descant as you goe.
Of things be plaine enough, to Speake our Thought,
Well may he fare, whose Candor will Admit,
Our meaning; though he see not, where wee hitt;
The happie Age, has teem'd, & brought a new
Race of Discerners; can be wise, as you;
Can Squeeze an Author, wth a Ioynt; & raise
In Sea's of Præiudice, Mountains of Praise,
By an Imposeing Faith; an Easie Smile
Argues the Ieast; the frowne a Deeper Stile;
And your Attention clawes the Humor, to
A Shrugge; then pause, & Descant as you goe.
Had wee not layd it right, from instances,
(And led them on by Things) wch they may Gvesse
Not easie to another; a fitt Straine
To venture on,) they'd Sent vs home againe.
(And led them on by Things) wch they may Gvesse
Not easie to another; a fitt Straine
To venture on,) they'd Sent vs home againe.
As I'me an honest man, I thought, I'de past
His censure, with Applause; & now, at last
(Sprung-gvilty) he considers, what wee meant
To vse him thus, & Spoyle his Complement;
He slips to his State-forme; & Calls his Eyes
To Councell, ere he Doome ours Levities;
Then with the promist White-Staffe of his Place
He threatens Poetry, like a Strange Face;
The Doore of his Discretion opens but
To very few; indeed Witt, Still Sitts out
Lac'd, his familiar freind; & perfumes, peirce
His Braines; caught more by ye Nose & Eyes, then Ears;
Yet, if a politicke Whisper, beat an Ayre
Vpon his Perucke, he Accosts you bare;
And gives a formall greeting's cautious Hum
To but Name Machiavel; only for Some
Slipt lines, troubles his Conscience; for the fine
Thing, he would be thought, noe ord'nary Devine;
He takes Du Plessis, as his Accidence;
And reads his meaning, though but Spell his French;
The Title, contra missam, hangs his meere
Mouth-Dagger; then I hope you need not feare
Him Orthodoxe, thus weapon'd; for his Sheild
He takes vp Hooker, which he cannot weild;
Rather then want a Target, Perkins Tents
Are Search't vp, for Left-handed Implements;
And fitt him right; or if he chance to feele
Himselfe at worse, with Gerson, he can wheele;
He whips Socinus, Atheist, in his Name
But Cōmends Chillingsworth, lest he Disclaime
Acquaintance, wth Some Persons; that ye word
And his Religion's pinn'd vpon My Lord;
He loves the fatt Presbitery, & Cites
Authenticke Prinne; vnto the Rabbi, writes
Propheticke Dreames; & measures not ye Church
Steeple, by Calvin's Nose, nor's Mouth ye Porch;
Yet not to Suffer in a Dangerous Time
Noe Name affrights him; hee'le as eas'ly clime
The Independent ladder, & at toppe
Grinns, an old Ape to every Eye lookes vp;
Chuses his Name, new-Syllabled to amaze
Some weaker Brother, tir'd in Steps of Grace;
He admires Goshen (better fed then taught)
He takes the Wildernes, with those who Sought
Farre Canaan, but Manna falls soe Scant,
Faces about; hee's now a Protestant,
But lest Religion too much wrong his breeding,
And Revealations take him from his reading;
He comes, the moderne entertains, by Roat;
Takes from Illustre Bassa, Don Quixot;
These passe him, wth the Ladies; where hee'le lard
It Better Langvages, anything that's hard;
He smacks at everie Science; & præscribes
Rules as he had Quarter'd 'em, into Tribes;
Only poore Poesie, affronts him; 'tis
Too Saucy; & the Worthy, to be Wise,
Neglect it; Solid Prose! his owne Discourse
(For he that meanes) Subdues a mind of force.
I'me soe content, & he; we're parted thus
Though hardly freinds; both pleas'd; this tyrānous
Insulter over Manners, would Surprise
Witt Tappast, a Live Quarrey; we're as wise
And Iealous as himselfe; for ere he trace
Vs lodg'd, we're vp, to lead him a new Chace.
His censure, with Applause; & now, at last
(Sprung-gvilty) he considers, what wee meant
To vse him thus, & Spoyle his Complement;
He slips to his State-forme; & Calls his Eyes
To Councell, ere he Doome ours Levities;
Then with the promist White-Staffe of his Place
He threatens Poetry, like a Strange Face;
The Doore of his Discretion opens but
To very few; indeed Witt, Still Sitts out
Lac'd, his familiar freind; & perfumes, peirce
His Braines; caught more by ye Nose & Eyes, then Ears;
230
Vpon his Perucke, he Accosts you bare;
And gives a formall greeting's cautious Hum
To but Name Machiavel; only for Some
Slipt lines, troubles his Conscience; for the fine
Thing, he would be thought, noe ord'nary Devine;
He takes Du Plessis, as his Accidence;
And reads his meaning, though but Spell his French;
The Title, contra missam, hangs his meere
Mouth-Dagger; then I hope you need not feare
Him Orthodoxe, thus weapon'd; for his Sheild
He takes vp Hooker, which he cannot weild;
Rather then want a Target, Perkins Tents
Are Search't vp, for Left-handed Implements;
And fitt him right; or if he chance to feele
Himselfe at worse, with Gerson, he can wheele;
He whips Socinus, Atheist, in his Name
But Cōmends Chillingsworth, lest he Disclaime
Acquaintance, wth Some Persons; that ye word
And his Religion's pinn'd vpon My Lord;
He loves the fatt Presbitery, & Cites
Authenticke Prinne; vnto the Rabbi, writes
Propheticke Dreames; & measures not ye Church
Steeple, by Calvin's Nose, nor's Mouth ye Porch;
Yet not to Suffer in a Dangerous Time
Noe Name affrights him; hee'le as eas'ly clime
The Independent ladder, & at toppe
Grinns, an old Ape to every Eye lookes vp;
Chuses his Name, new-Syllabled to amaze
231
He admires Goshen (better fed then taught)
He takes the Wildernes, with those who Sought
Farre Canaan, but Manna falls soe Scant,
Faces about; hee's now a Protestant,
But lest Religion too much wrong his breeding,
And Revealations take him from his reading;
He comes, the moderne entertains, by Roat;
Takes from Illustre Bassa, Don Quixot;
These passe him, wth the Ladies; where hee'le lard
It Better Langvages, anything that's hard;
He smacks at everie Science; & præscribes
Rules as he had Quarter'd 'em, into Tribes;
Only poore Poesie, affronts him; 'tis
Too Saucy; & the Worthy, to be Wise,
Neglect it; Solid Prose! his owne Discourse
(For he that meanes) Subdues a mind of force.
I'me soe content, & he; we're parted thus
Though hardly freinds; both pleas'd; this tyrānous
Insulter over Manners, would Surprise
Witt Tappast, a Live Quarrey; we're as wise
And Iealous as himselfe; for ere he trace
Vs lodg'd, we're vp, to lead him a new Chace.
Nor blame this Satire, if darke Sava creepe
Into the Danub, and his Colour keepe
Makeing one Current, through the middle Streame;
Allow this Earthy Wave, within the Name
Of our Designe, a quickspring broke of Late
Into the Channell; & runs on with State;
Into the Danub, and his Colour keepe
Makeing one Current, through the middle Streame;
Allow this Earthy Wave, within the Name
Of our Designe, a quickspring broke of Late
Into the Channell; & runs on with State;
232
Now gather in the Odds; Caligula
At Checkstones; & let Xerxes whip the Sea;
Hellespont trembles; as rough Adria, may
Combe her Hair smoother, on ye Wedding Day,
And Smile for Superstition; till the Last
Of Moonéd Gallyes, force her, from her Trust;
The Earth and Sea, are vassal'd; Dædalus
Yet impe out Power; (if 't wer not ominous!)
Stay thy mechanicke hand; patch't vp of late
She flyes; an Eagle flutter'd as a Batt;
The melting Ceruse, Shrinks; Stript Porcupine
May to an Vrchin, of his wants complaine;
Well-thatcht, gainst Winter's Stormes; poore Innocence
Lyes in a Hole, & tumbles Crabbs; yt Prince
Forrageth Snow, & with his Bloodie feet
Betrayes his Gvilt; ye hunters Chase him yet.
At Checkstones; & let Xerxes whip the Sea;
Hellespont trembles; as rough Adria, may
Combe her Hair smoother, on ye Wedding Day,
And Smile for Superstition; till the Last
Of Moonéd Gallyes, force her, from her Trust;
The Earth and Sea, are vassal'd; Dædalus
Yet impe out Power; (if 't wer not ominous!)
Stay thy mechanicke hand; patch't vp of late
She flyes; an Eagle flutter'd as a Batt;
The melting Ceruse, Shrinks; Stript Porcupine
May to an Vrchin, of his wants complaine;
Well-thatcht, gainst Winter's Stormes; poore Innocence
Lyes in a Hole, & tumbles Crabbs; yt Prince
Forrageth Snow, & with his Bloodie feet
Betrayes his Gvilt; ye hunters Chase him yet.
If now a Sober Madnes, may become
Witt; (for all Witt is Madnes vnto some)
Let's Sift the World; & bate yt Proverbe's force,
In Meale, not Mealy-mouth'd; but throw yt Course
Branne, with the Swill of Humors, a Mash made
For Sickly Tirants; when the Steddy head
Surveighs himselfe, Hee reasonably Contemn's
All Power, but hates it most in the extream's.
Nature workes nothing but by perfect Rules;
Wee make her Whirligig, & Sport for Fooles;
And Bladder out her Shell, wth the vaine Breath
Of notions, madly form'd; as wer't a faith—
Cognizance, in Blue-Coat-Philosophy
To prevent her Impossibilitie;
Lest the dire vacuum seize her, Every Mouth
Adds, to the Timpany; & the world Slow'th,
Readie to take the Fillup of a Hand
Must cure her Dropsie; make vs vnderstand
The Error, of our Cure, & draw vs in
To Science, by destruction; wee begin
(Sicke Sinners All) but truly then to Live
When we may live noe longer; I beleive
As God bequeath'd an order to the frame
Of his Creation, & to everie Name
Conferr'd an vse; Man, (ye ill Steward) rack't
The Farme; & double-rented we must tak't
At Second Hand; well if we can advance
With Sweat, rent, for our Inheritance.
Witt; (for all Witt is Madnes vnto some)
Let's Sift the World; & bate yt Proverbe's force,
In Meale, not Mealy-mouth'd; but throw yt Course
Branne, with the Swill of Humors, a Mash made
For Sickly Tirants; when the Steddy head
Surveighs himselfe, Hee reasonably Contemn's
All Power, but hates it most in the extream's.
Nature workes nothing but by perfect Rules;
Wee make her Whirligig, & Sport for Fooles;
And Bladder out her Shell, wth the vaine Breath
Of notions, madly form'd; as wer't a faith—
Cognizance, in Blue-Coat-Philosophy
233
Lest the dire vacuum seize her, Every Mouth
Adds, to the Timpany; & the world Slow'th,
Readie to take the Fillup of a Hand
Must cure her Dropsie; make vs vnderstand
The Error, of our Cure, & draw vs in
To Science, by destruction; wee begin
(Sicke Sinners All) but truly then to Live
When we may live noe longer; I beleive
As God bequeath'd an order to the frame
Of his Creation, & to everie Name
Conferr'd an vse; Man, (ye ill Steward) rack't
The Farme; & double-rented we must tak't
At Second Hand; well if we can advance
With Sweat, rent, for our Inheritance.
The Earth rūns in one Tenure, & we but
Prevent Repeals; Villainage is the Lott;
Tempted with Golden Pills, to tear his Gutts;
And Groanes, State Phisicke, in ye Part; nor Shutts
Nor opens, but knotts vp ye Illiacke Strings;
The Base, strikes flatt, ore the Shrunk Minikins;
How farre from ye first Harmony! a Power
(Impatient in the Tuneing) with a Sower
Rage, will admitt noe tryall, to the Worke
Of Symphony; but as ye thick-Scull'd Turke
(While wee Squeeze notes, & Scrue to reach concent)
It baffles vs, wth our owne Instrument;
Are we not soe well-payd, if when we shall
Trouble such Ears, vpon our owne it fall?
Prevent Repeals; Villainage is the Lott;
Tempted with Golden Pills, to tear his Gutts;
And Groanes, State Phisicke, in ye Part; nor Shutts
Nor opens, but knotts vp ye Illiacke Strings;
The Base, strikes flatt, ore the Shrunk Minikins;
How farre from ye first Harmony! a Power
(Impatient in the Tuneing) with a Sower
Rage, will admitt noe tryall, to the Worke
Of Symphony; but as ye thick-Scull'd Turke
(While wee Squeeze notes, & Scrue to reach concent)
It baffles vs, wth our owne Instrument;
Are we not soe well-payd, if when we shall
Trouble such Ears, vpon our owne it fall?
234
For my part (others may arrest ye Orbes
And fiddle Nature, to their owne fraile Chords
From Gāmut Earth, notes above Ela Ayre;
And Chant their Song, of Soveraigntie there)
I'me better pleas'd to run ye Medley out
Varietie, & gvess at what I thought,
Then thinke what others Gvess; Mankind to Mee
Is an Imposture All; & when I See
Taught Policy creep whineing to Advance
Inspir'd with England & sleep, Spaine or France,
Like Elephants instructed; I am Sicke
Of my expence ere he have Show'd the Tricke.
Hey! for ye King, Lye close, ye Cōmonwealth
Hee's ore your Shoulders ere you turne yor selfe;
Spin out ye Alphabet, & he will Stop
When ere you pause; & give a double Choppe
On the Mouth-fitting Vowel; with your Eye
Hee can bend Excellence, or Kneele Maiestie;
His temper'd Earth, whips (as you Agitate
The Ayre) to Either Magnes, This, or That;
Heare him againe, he hangs; as, if you will
You may thinke Mahomet soe pendent Still.
And fiddle Nature, to their owne fraile Chords
From Gāmut Earth, notes above Ela Ayre;
And Chant their Song, of Soveraigntie there)
I'me better pleas'd to run ye Medley out
Varietie, & gvess at what I thought,
Then thinke what others Gvess; Mankind to Mee
Is an Imposture All; & when I See
Taught Policy creep whineing to Advance
Inspir'd with England & sleep, Spaine or France,
Like Elephants instructed; I am Sicke
Of my expence ere he have Show'd the Tricke.
Hey! for ye King, Lye close, ye Cōmonwealth
Hee's ore your Shoulders ere you turne yor selfe;
Spin out ye Alphabet, & he will Stop
When ere you pause; & give a double Choppe
On the Mouth-fitting Vowel; with your Eye
Hee can bend Excellence, or Kneele Maiestie;
His temper'd Earth, whips (as you Agitate
The Ayre) to Either Magnes, This, or That;
Heare him againe, he hangs; as, if you will
You may thinke Mahomet soe pendent Still.
Well! 'tis an odde fine Cheat; & (wer't not made
From the first Misterie, a Cōmon Trade;)
It might become a Science; & perhaps
(Now Letters ruin'd) it may take the Lapse
At an Advantage; & sett vp free Schoole
To the next Age; who knowes? a Cōmenc't Foole
Is a Dull Afse; & cannot wring the Tith's
Out with his Pains, nor hardly wth his Wife's;
This shall not need; if Buffe & a Bold Face
Be not perswasive, more then Syrplesse was,
I have noe Skill, in Kersey-Hose; you thinke
I ramble; but I'me Chary of my Inke
And thriftily propose lanke Arguments
For you to ravell; Thrumbs of Discontents:
From the large Webbe of Care; if you be Wise
Trafficke in Small Things; nothing lost, t'advise
You to a thriveing Course; knitt vp the Shredds,
And Sell by Pennieworths, what bolder Heads
Rate at a Crowne; if yet their venture, brought
The returne promis't, 't had beene worth their thought
Th' Emprovement, of a Stocke, when Ends set vp
A Walking-Box, a well-clad Tissue-Shop;
But if the Glory of their Merchandize
Yet vnder Hatches, a Raw adventure Lyes;
And the rude wave of Chance, returne 'em in
Bankrupt at last; to the Old Trade agen;
May they gaine Credit, & assay once more
Th' America they long'd to touch before;
And bring that Bird of Paradice (the Light-
Hope of their voyage) Libertie, to Sight;
The Dead Name, & the Purple Feather, runs
Current exchange; to their Demand of Crowns.
From the first Misterie, a Cōmon Trade;)
It might become a Science; & perhaps
(Now Letters ruin'd) it may take the Lapse
At an Advantage; & sett vp free Schoole
To the next Age; who knowes? a Cōmenc't Foole
Is a Dull Afse; & cannot wring the Tith's
235
This shall not need; if Buffe & a Bold Face
Be not perswasive, more then Syrplesse was,
I have noe Skill, in Kersey-Hose; you thinke
I ramble; but I'me Chary of my Inke
And thriftily propose lanke Arguments
For you to ravell; Thrumbs of Discontents:
From the large Webbe of Care; if you be Wise
Trafficke in Small Things; nothing lost, t'advise
You to a thriveing Course; knitt vp the Shredds,
And Sell by Pennieworths, what bolder Heads
Rate at a Crowne; if yet their venture, brought
The returne promis't, 't had beene worth their thought
Th' Emprovement, of a Stocke, when Ends set vp
A Walking-Box, a well-clad Tissue-Shop;
But if the Glory of their Merchandize
Yet vnder Hatches, a Raw adventure Lyes;
And the rude wave of Chance, returne 'em in
Bankrupt at last; to the Old Trade agen;
May they gaine Credit, & assay once more
Th' America they long'd to touch before;
And bring that Bird of Paradice (the Light-
Hope of their voyage) Libertie, to Sight;
The Dead Name, & the Purple Feather, runs
Current exchange; to their Demand of Crowns.
'Tis Doubtfull where that locall Paradice
Was vpon Earth; & our Lost Liberties
Are lock't soe farre to Seeke, the fierie Sword
Must first fall to the Scabbard of his word
Who will vnsheathe it; ere we can expect
T'enioy this obiect of the Intellect.
When Red Earth, readmitted, Shall be led
Thorow the Garden, & noe Tree forbid;
The fruit of Error, lost or left behind
And the Sixth Dayes worke, vnto Sabbath ioyn'd.
Was vpon Earth; & our Lost Liberties
Are lock't soe farre to Seeke, the fierie Sword
Must first fall to the Scabbard of his word
236
T'enioy this obiect of the Intellect.
When Red Earth, readmitted, Shall be led
Thorow the Garden, & noe Tree forbid;
The fruit of Error, lost or left behind
And the Sixth Dayes worke, vnto Sabbath ioyn'd.
L' Envoy.
The near-tir'd Pilgrim (whose high Pietie
Wings Earth, Grand Chimist, in Divinitie;
Exalted Man! not when he from the Hill
May veiw faire Solima, but when his will
(The Mountaine of his Flesh) is trodden downe
And gives him Prospect, to Devotion,
The holy Citty of the East; soe gladds
Himselfe, & kneels; as wee, whose Passion wades
T'Attend his Vertue, through the barren Sands;
Proud Libanus (whose heavie Cædars, from
Collateral Lines have planted Christendome)
Now past with many feet; Our Iourney ends
At Salem, that hard Step; ye worst way Spends
With Resolution in our Toyle; but when
Wee tread the Easie Flatt, wee're lazy then.
Wings Earth, Grand Chimist, in Divinitie;
Exalted Man! not when he from the Hill
May veiw faire Solima, but when his will
(The Mountaine of his Flesh) is trodden downe
And gives him Prospect, to Devotion,
The holy Citty of the East; soe gladds
Himselfe, & kneels; as wee, whose Passion wades
T'Attend his Vertue, through the barren Sands;
Proud Libanus (whose heavie Cædars, from
Collateral Lines have planted Christendome)
Now past with many feet; Our Iourney ends
At Salem, that hard Step; ye worst way Spends
With Resolution in our Toyle; but when
Wee tread the Easie Flatt, wee're lazy then.
Now bath, in Lethe-Iordan; of a Power
'Bove other waters, made to cleanse this Sore;
Th' Old tumor'd Leprosie! the fatall Shirt!
Dire Nessus Blood! or Naaman's drye Dirt!
Forget the Sirian Streames; Lost Paradice;
Damascus, has no other waters of that Price;
Euphrates Sweet, nor Gidd Tigris laves
Th' Imagin'd garden with such wholesome Waves;
Their vertue long since lost; & ev'n in their Mudd
But Soap's our Gvilt, to seeke another Flood;
Tread deep; lay in thy Shoulders; doe not feare
These waters, more then Oyle enrich thy Haire.
Strike through ye Waves, & cleanséd, set thy foot
On further Side; thy Follyes, all forgot;
Enioy thy Seekings, in a Trance of Rest;
Death, Liberty, & all what Folly gvest,
Plausible, left behind; the world soe quitt
Envies thee nothing, & thou dread'st it.
'Bove other waters, made to cleanse this Sore;
Th' Old tumor'd Leprosie! the fatall Shirt!
Dire Nessus Blood! or Naaman's drye Dirt!
Forget the Sirian Streames; Lost Paradice;
Damascus, has no other waters of that Price;
Euphrates Sweet, nor Gidd Tigris laves
237
Their vertue long since lost; & ev'n in their Mudd
But Soap's our Gvilt, to seeke another Flood;
Tread deep; lay in thy Shoulders; doe not feare
These waters, more then Oyle enrich thy Haire.
Strike through ye Waves, & cleanséd, set thy foot
On further Side; thy Follyes, all forgot;
Enioy thy Seekings, in a Trance of Rest;
Death, Liberty, & all what Folly gvest,
Plausible, left behind; the world soe quitt
Envies thee nothing, & thou dread'st it.
Then be it as it may; where only Truth
Is Center'd, Peace, can be; & he pursu'th
The Meteor of his Braine, who doth Contend
Libertie, ere he have attain'd, the End.
Is Center'd, Peace, can be; & he pursu'th
The Meteor of his Braine, who doth Contend
Libertie, ere he have attain'd, the End.
The Designe.
The Curtaine open'd, gives our Hand(At Second Hand) thus to your Eye;
One Obiect in varietie,
One Sūm'd draught doth before you Stand:
Weigh the whole proiect first; & though you want
Iudgment, or Rule
Like Children, love the Rabble for the Paint,
And Speake at least your Selfe to be noe Foole;
Kings are the Subiect, you may slight
It meerlie, as a Tumor'd Rage
In Fancie; but the Critick Age,
Loves it with Deare Delight;
And Colours to the Life, our paines, in Black & white.
238
The Colouringe.
But have we yet noe other Thing?Is Inke, & Paper all our Shop?
Come! y'are a freind, Bright as your Hope,
Clad Royallie; behold a King!
My over hast, or some vnruly Hand
Has soyl'd the Grace
Of what I meant to make you vnderstand;
The Purple's Blue & Gold, but Ochar Lace;
Vertue in Princes (their best Clothes)
Vilely setts off, at vnder-rate;
A new-trim'd Medley, Motley State
(Yet fresh in Oyle & Oaths)
Worth the engagements here; marke how ye shadow show's.
The Shadow
Thus to your Eye; for your mistake,And Iudge it by halfe-light; 'tis here
Worthy your Pain's (vnles we erre)
And your Discretion; See! the Blacke
Steales through all mixture, to his opposite;
The Fountaine Shells
Of Art well-Temper'd, thus themselves vnite;
For 't wer a Gaudie Leape, & nothing Else
To lay a Blue, a Red, or Greene
Vpon a Ribband, or a Suit,
Or Daube, (as you have seene)
A Face; or as our Eyes were out,
Drop others in; & want, the life of Shadow to't.
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Proportion.
Yet a Remove; though May may boastTo all the yeare; & Nature gives
Faint Art, Full Coppie, from ye Lives
Of fflowers, provided at her Cost;
Yet our lov'd May (wch we would gladly Draw
Vnto his Name,
Vp to her Wealth; & teach her Roses grow
Knitt with bright Lillyes, to his Fate, & Fame,)
Is but the Glosse; Proportion
Is the best Fruit, which Art may carry:
View him by Lines; & when you h' done
Though some apparent Fretts may vary
The Pourtraiture; 't may stand for Charles as well as Harry.
The Landskip.
But heres the Peice, made vp to Sell;Our mercenarie Pencill, drew
It to the Age's Fancie New;
The Atlanticke Groves, where Shaddowes Dwell;
Fame, a peircht Phaisænt & the Quest of Kings,
Keepes her at Bay;
Vnkennell'd Fury (deep-mouth'd) rings
Liberty lodg'd; & Chas'd it quite away.
Call this the Wild of Fancy; See
The Throne is Seiz'd; Sedition treads
Downe Truth: & all the Loyall Heads
Were worth a Hand, in Charnells bee;
The Rest, are Spīninge hopes, each in his Chosen Tree.
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The Ceremonie.
Now lead the way; 'tis more then TimeNew obiects fill your wearied Eies;
Poore I (condemn'd to Sacrifice
My breath, in a meer vseless Rhime;
Vnto the honor of my Master who
Yet knows noe Rest)
In yond Darke Willow, hide my lab'ring Brow,
Till he by Conquest, may enlarge my Breast,
And to his trivmph, teach my verse
Accents ela-ted to the Sharpe
Clangor of Warre; My Solemne Harpe
Meanewhile I take; for Iealous Ears
Allow noe louder notes; still open to their Feares.
C'est assez.
Vpon the Reading: a Booke, called the Life of Periskirus.
These lines were writ by G: D: Esq.
Not Borne nor Bred to Studies soe Sublime,
Wee vent our traffique in regardless Rhyme;
But love, our verses, ('bove their merit) when
They worthily Celebrate, Worthy Men;
Big Glory, Speake it out; for Pride becomes
Iust Truth, an humble Off'ring, at such Tombes.
Wee vent our traffique in regardless Rhyme;
But love, our verses, ('bove their merit) when
They worthily Celebrate, Worthy Men;
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Iust Truth, an humble Off'ring, at such Tombes.
Drawne from a Noble Ancestry; Sustain'd
By vertue, Glorious; but these scarcely stand
Our owne to boast; Derivatively, Wee
Claime but from Cleare Names, of a Pedigree.
By vertue, Glorious; but these scarcely stand
Our owne to boast; Derivatively, Wee
Claime but from Cleare Names, of a Pedigree.
But had not Antique Rome, nor glorious fame
From Pisa, giv'n the great Fabrician Name;
Had there noe statues beene, wch later France
Can Witness; This, one single, might advance
Himselfe Illustrious; for All, Iust or Wise;
Learned, Religious, Good, were his Allyes.
Not to be Lord of Pieresk, nor the Chaire
At Aix, Ennoble him; nor Beaugensier;
His Titles, vpon firmer Basis went;
Vertue's Support, Learning's best Ornament;
The Soule of Science, Edge of Industry,
The Boast of Nature, in Humanitie.
From Pisa, giv'n the great Fabrician Name;
Had there noe statues beene, wch later France
Can Witness; This, one single, might advance
Himselfe Illustrious; for All, Iust or Wise;
Learned, Religious, Good, were his Allyes.
Not to be Lord of Pieresk, nor the Chaire
At Aix, Ennoble him; nor Beaugensier;
His Titles, vpon firmer Basis went;
Vertue's Support, Learning's best Ornament;
The Soule of Science, Edge of Industry,
The Boast of Nature, in Humanitie.
What wonders has he done? ye Copious East
Ransack'd, & ioyn'd to ye Redundant West;
(Confuteing Ignorance,) Heaven's Motion
In his owne Orbe; the East & West but One;
What Rarityes! what Cost! what paines! what Price!
Has he forborne! & from his owne Supplies;
Hee vnlock't the Vatican; & from himselfe
Could adde to the whole frame in Every Shelfe;
Medalls & Antique Charts, not vnderstood,
To him were plaine, from him approvéd good.
What his acquaintance was, wee should not boast;
The Learnéd world allowes them, Learnéd most;
Few Names of Many serves; Great Scaliger
And Grotious; with him who held the Chaire
Pontificate, at Rome; whose Name (how ere
The Rest Mis-suite) lives to his Character,
Vrbanus; Scarce a Name, in that high Court
But for some Learninge, owed Fabricius for 't.
Ransack'd, & ioyn'd to ye Redundant West;
(Confuteing Ignorance,) Heaven's Motion
In his owne Orbe; the East & West but One;
What Rarityes! what Cost! what paines! what Price!
Has he forborne! & from his owne Supplies;
Hee vnlock't the Vatican; & from himselfe
Could adde to the whole frame in Every Shelfe;
Medalls & Antique Charts, not vnderstood,
To him were plaine, from him approvéd good.
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The Learnéd world allowes them, Learnéd most;
Few Names of Many serves; Great Scaliger
And Grotious; with him who held the Chaire
Pontificate, at Rome; whose Name (how ere
The Rest Mis-suite) lives to his Character,
Vrbanus; Scarce a Name, in that high Court
But for some Learninge, owed Fabricius for 't.
I am not Eas'ly led; & I had slept
In Ignorance; had not Gassendus stept
To light this Torch, from whence each may take light
For his owne Sphere, to make the whole Orbe bright;
Some Glimmer, Some maintaine a radiant fire
'Tis fit what they may Praise, that I admire.
In Ignorance; had not Gassendus stept
To light this Torch, from whence each may take light
For his owne Sphere, to make the whole Orbe bright;
Some Glimmer, Some maintaine a radiant fire
'Tis fit what they may Praise, that I admire.
Vpon the Excellent Poems of Mr. George Herbert.
Lord! yet How dull am I?When I would flye;
Vp to the Region of thy Glories; where
Only true formes appeare;
My long-brail'd! Pineons, Clumsie, & vnapt
I cannot Spread;
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Only to flutter, in the lower Shrubs
Of Earth-borne follies; out alas!
When I would tread
A higher Step, ten thousand, thousand rubs
Prevent my Pace.
This happie Larke, wth humble Honour, I
Admire & Praise;
But when I raise
My Selfe, I fall asham'd, to see him flye.
The Royall Prophet, in his Extasie
First trod this Path;
Hee followes nere; I will not say how nigh,
In flight as well as faith;
Let mee asham'd, creepe back into my Shell,
And humbly listen to his Layes;
'Tis Preiudice, what I intended Praise;
As where they fall soe low, all words are still.
Our vntun'd Liricks, only fitt
To Sing our Selfe-borne Cares,
Dare not of him; or had wee witt;
Where might wee find out Eares
Worthy his Character, if wee may bring
Our Accent to his Name?
This Stand; of Liricks, Hee the vtmost fame
Has gain'd; & now they vaile to heare him Sing,
Horace in voice, & Cassimire in wing.
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An Occasionall reflection
Martij 26: 1653:
Brought to ye Barre; Condemnd; but yet my God
My gratious God,
Vnsaid vnsought to, by a blushles wretch
Hardned in Sinnings grants a glad repreive:
The next Assize I'me quitt; I freely live,
Alas too free; fresh Crimes; new fetters fetch,
And I am Gaol'd by Sin;
My God agen, agen
Enlargith me; his Clemencyes Surround
Mee all; his mercyes ev'n my hopes confound;
Not Seaven times freed; but I had pardon given
T'astonish faith, ev'n Seventy times yt Seaven;
Yet not enough, for yet I doe offend;
But ah his mercyes never end;
What shall I doe dread Lord; for thou hast done
To my vndoing more & more;
I dare not hope thy mercyes Still, for one
Soe often lost before
Sav'd by thy hand, wch alone Saves from death;
Dead wth ye Terror of relapsing crimes;
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Fayles to thy mercy vrg'd soe many Times;
Nor faith, nor hope: Dread Lord what shall I doe?
I'le call ye hills to hide
My Caitive face; for ah I dare not Show
It ever to be tryed
By Thee againe; thy flameing Iustice burnes
My bowells vp, & grates my bones;
My hart is horror, all my Spirritt mournes;
Death & destructions
Attend my Sleeping browes & waking Eyes;
Lost in ye grave of Sin for many dayes;
A Stinking carcasse buried; many wayes
And many times, thy mercyes Still Surprise
Me; & now dead, thy mercye, bidds me rise.
I run to meet thy Love; that I may move
Not all vnworthy, Strike me through wth Love;
That I may love ye Lover, and emprove
Lost faith & hope departed, in that Love;
For Love is all.
Finis.
| The poems of George Daniel | |