The Works of Michael Drayton Edited by J. William Hebel |
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TO THIS POEM
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 | The Works of Michael Drayton |  |
355
TO THIS POEM
[Moses His Birth and Miracles].
See how ingrate forgetfulnesseCircles us round with dangers,
That all the Saints whom God doth highly blesse,
To us are strangers:
Now Heav'n into our soules inspires
No true cœlestiall motions:
Lusts ardent flame hath dimm'd the holy fires
Of our devotions.
While 'gainst blasphemers gen'rall spight
Our painefull Author striveth,
And happy spirits which live in heavenly light
On earth reviveth.
Thou Patriarke great, who with milde lookes
His lab'ring Muse beholdest:
Reach him those leaves where thou in sacred bookes
All truth unfoldest:
And guide (like Israel) Poets hands
From Aegypt, from vaine Stories,
Onely to sing of the faire promis'd lands,
And all their glories.
John Beaumont.
| The Works of Michael Drayton | |