 | The second book of ayres, and dialogues |  |
To the much honoured Mr. HENRY LAWES, On his Excellent Compositions in Musick.
Nature
which is the vast Creation's Soule,
That steady curious Agent in the whole,
The Art of Heav'n, the Order of this Frame,
Is only Musick in another name:
And as some King conqu'ring what was his own,
Hath choice of severall Titles to his Crown;
So Harmony on this score now, That, then,
Yet still is all that takes and governs Men.
Beauty is but Composure; and we find
Content is but the Concord of the mind;
Friendship the Unison of well tun'd Hearts;
Honour's the Chorus of the noblest parts:
And all the World on which we can reflect,
Musick to the Ear, or to the Intellect.
That steady curious Agent in the whole,
The Art of Heav'n, the Order of this Frame,
Is only Musick in another name:
And as some King conqu'ring what was his own,
Hath choice of severall Titles to his Crown;
So Harmony on this score now, That, then,
Yet still is all that takes and governs Men.
Beauty is but Composure; and we find
Content is but the Concord of the mind;
Friendship the Unison of well tun'd Hearts;
Honour's the Chorus of the noblest parts:
And all the World on which we can reflect,
Musick to the Ear, or to the Intellect.
If then each Man a little World must be,
How many Worlds are coppy'd out in thee?
Who art so richly furnish'd, so compleat,
T'Epitomize all that is Good or Great;
Whose Starrs this brave advantage did impart,
Thy Nature's as Harmonious as thy Art:
Thou dost above the Poets Prayses live,
Who fetch from Thee th'Eternity they give;
And as true Reason triumph's over Sense,
Yet is subjected to Intelligence;
So Poets on the lower World look down,
But, Lavves on them, his height is all his own:
For (like Divinity it selfe) his Lyre
Reward's the Wit it did at first inspire:
And thus by double right Poets allow
Their and His Lawrells to adorn his brow.
How many Worlds are coppy'd out in thee?
Who art so richly furnish'd, so compleat,
T'Epitomize all that is Good or Great;
Whose Starrs this brave advantage did impart,
Thy Nature's as Harmonious as thy Art:
Thou dost above the Poets Prayses live,
Who fetch from Thee th'Eternity they give;
And as true Reason triumph's over Sense,
Yet is subjected to Intelligence;
So Poets on the lower World look down,
But, Lavves on them, his height is all his own:
For (like Divinity it selfe) his Lyre
Reward's the Wit it did at first inspire:
And thus by double right Poets allow
Their and His Lawrells to adorn his brow.
Live then (Great Soul of Nature) to asswage
The savage dulness of this sullen Age;
Charm us to sense; and though Experience fail,
And Reason too, thy Numbers may prevail.
Then (like those Ancients) strike, and so command
All Nature to obey thy generous hand:
None can resist, but such who needs will be
More stupid than a Fish, a Stone, a Tree:
Be it thy care our Age to new create,
What built a World, may sure repair a State.
The savage dulness of this sullen Age;
Charm us to sense; and though Experience fail,
And Reason too, thy Numbers may prevail.
Then (like those Ancients) strike, and so command
All Nature to obey thy generous hand:
None can resist, but such who needs will be
More stupid than a Fish, a Stone, a Tree:
Be it thy care our Age to new create,
What built a World, may sure repair a State.
Katharine Philips.
| The second book of ayres, and dialogues | |