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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 | The poems of George Daniel |  |
193
Some Poemes; Written vpon Severall occasions, By the Same Author.
195
To the Tombe of Thomas Earl of Strafford.
Reader, ere you pass this Herse,
Looke vpon our Shame. Our wonder,
Worthy all your Tears,
Lyes with liveing honours, vnder
This proud Marble; and my verse
But anticipat's the Thunder
Of a bolder Fame, which might
Have overcome a feeble Spright.
Looke vpon our Shame. Our wonder,
Worthy all your Tears,
Lyes with liveing honours, vnder
This proud Marble; and my verse
But anticipat's the Thunder
Of a bolder Fame, which might
Have overcome a feeble Spright.
This, This was Hee, who knew aright
To gvide the high Affaires of State;
Whose prudent Counsells were ye Light
Of Monarchy. Our Monarch's Fate
Was twist in his. Clear Pens might write
Wonders in Storie; but too Late:
Qvills are prevented; and the Sword
Writes Blood, for Inke; & wound, for word.
To gvide the high Affaires of State;
Whose prudent Counsells were ye Light
Of Monarchy. Our Monarch's Fate
Was twist in his. Clear Pens might write
Wonders in Storie; but too Late:
Qvills are prevented; and the Sword
Writes Blood, for Inke; & wound, for word.
Vnhappie Age, Vnhappie Ile;
Without a Genius, in his fall;
Whose Third made onlie both yours smile,
And was the liveing Fount of All:
If Genij be be? (as wee revile
Antiquity, if wee should call
It into Doubt) the greatest Flame
Expired in Him;—And to his Name
Without a Genius, in his fall;
196
And was the liveing Fount of All:
If Genij be be? (as wee revile
Antiquity, if wee should call
It into Doubt) the greatest Flame
Expired in Him;—And to his Name
Vnder Devotions, wee may pay
Our best Performances, and place
His, as the cheif State-Martir's Day,
Of all our Rubricke. Hee who was
The Arch-Collossus, (if I may
Soe call him) suffers in disgrace,
And falls to rubbish, by the rude
Rage of a barbarous Multitude.
Our best Performances, and place
His, as the cheif State-Martir's Day,
Of all our Rubricke. Hee who was
The Arch-Collossus, (if I may
Soe call him) suffers in disgrace,
And falls to rubbish, by the rude
Rage of a barbarous Multitude.
Let the Westerne Iland tell
To her Maister, if he did
More then Iust, or less then well.
Shee knew much; yet I dare bid
Her, (leaving Malice & that Hell,
Vulgar Clamour) boldly read
All his Storie, that She knew
And fright Envie from her heiw.
To her Maister, if he did
More then Iust, or less then well.
Shee knew much; yet I dare bid
Her, (leaving Malice & that Hell,
Vulgar Clamour) boldly read
All his Storie, that She knew
And fright Envie from her heiw.
Make her blush; or would you hear
It better? Aske the King awhile,
Who made the haughtie Scotts to feare?
Who Stood ye Spirit of his Ile?
Whisper Strafford in his Eare;
Vrge it boldly, and revile
The Nation; for in him they lost
All their honour, all their boast.
It better? Aske the King awhile,
Who made the haughtie Scotts to feare?
197
Whisper Strafford in his Eare;
Vrge it boldly, and revile
The Nation; for in him they lost
All their honour, all their boast.
Much could I more: enough to bring
An invndation of Tears.
Stay Readers, I am full; goe wring
Your hands vpon Another herse;
His noble Ashes need noe thing
But his owne blood; enough to peirce
The Clouds, drawne vp by Iustice Sun,
A Minant Exhalation.
An invndation of Tears.
Stay Readers, I am full; goe wring
Your hands vpon Another herse;
His noble Ashes need noe thing
But his owne blood; enough to peirce
The Clouds, drawne vp by Iustice Sun,
A Minant Exhalation.
And it will fall, vpon all those
Who lick'd it warme wth greedie gust;
Like Sulphur Shewers; their overthrowes
Shall be more terrible. How Iust
Is heaven at length! Strafford repose,
Happie in thy dire Fate; which must
Stand, to Ennoble all thy Storie;
Thy Nation's Greife; thy Nation's Glorie.
Who lick'd it warme wth greedie gust;
Like Sulphur Shewers; their overthrowes
Shall be more terrible. How Iust
Is heaven at length! Strafford repose,
Happie in thy dire Fate; which must
Stand, to Ennoble all thy Storie;
Thy Nation's Greife; thy Nation's Glorie.
198
An Elegie To the Memorie of the trulie Noble and my worthie Freind, Sr William Alforde Knt:
of Meaux in Holdernesse.
I am noe Common Mourner, neither Croud
To Funeralls, and vent my Tears abroad,
In Elegies; or put my Witt in Print:
A better Poet then a Penitent,
I have noe Ends in verse; but keep the path
Of plaine Simplicitie. It is noe Death
Of Great Ones gives my Numbers ever Life;
But I am iust to vertue, and would Strive
To honour worthines, in everie Line;
And make my Poesie in these Colours shine.
To Funeralls, and vent my Tears abroad,
In Elegies; or put my Witt in Print:
A better Poet then a Penitent,
I have noe Ends in verse; but keep the path
Of plaine Simplicitie. It is noe Death
Of Great Ones gives my Numbers ever Life;
But I am iust to vertue, and would Strive
To honour worthines, in everie Line;
And make my Poesie in these Colours shine.
Which to Adorne, and Crowne with better Fame,
I now am brought to Celebrate the Name
Of Alforde; whose iust Merits, were they writt
By a cleare Pen, might challenge right to Sitt
Enthroned in Honour's Theatre; to bring
His Praise in Catalogve, were but to Singe
A forcéd orgie; and would much impaire
The lustre due to his full Character.
I now am brought to Celebrate the Name
Of Alforde; whose iust Merits, were they writt
By a cleare Pen, might challenge right to Sitt
Enthroned in Honour's Theatre; to bring
199
A forcéd orgie; and would much impaire
The lustre due to his full Character.
Let Common Pens, who make a Trade of Rime,
Racke vertue in her Shapes, vnto the Chime
Of mercenarie Number; I am free,
And bring my Iudgment with my Elegie;
Which is at once, to pay the Debt I owe
His Memorie, and give the world to know
Some Light of his Deservings. Though it be
Knowne to the present Age, Posteritie
May want Him, and the Example; when, this weake
Tribute I pay his Memorie may Speake.
Racke vertue in her Shapes, vnto the Chime
Of mercenarie Number; I am free,
And bring my Iudgment with my Elegie;
Which is at once, to pay the Debt I owe
His Memorie, and give the world to know
Some Light of his Deservings. Though it be
Knowne to the present Age, Posteritie
May want Him, and the Example; when, this weake
Tribute I pay his Memorie may Speake.
Indeed he was, (I speake not in the Art
Of Passion, but with an open Heart;)
A man of a Cleare Soule; and full in all
The accomplishments of man, in generall.
A mind as large as Bountie, and a Brest
Where Loyaltye prevail'd with Interest;
For his owne Private, or his private freind,
Hee could not value to soe base an End.
Of Passion, but with an open Heart;)
A man of a Cleare Soule; and full in all
The accomplishments of man, in generall.
A mind as large as Bountie, and a Brest
Where Loyaltye prevail'd with Interest;
For his owne Private, or his private freind,
Hee could not value to soe base an End.
The rest, let Meux record, and Holdernes,
There pay in all its Tears, to his Decease;
Whilst wee interre him by his Ladie's Side;
So ioyned againe, whom Death did once devide;
And I, (their Poet) Celebrate their Fames
Glorious, to Time, and Equall in their Names.
There pay in all its Tears, to his Decease;
Whilst wee interre him by his Ladie's Side;
So ioyned againe, whom Death did once devide;
And I, (their Poet) Celebrate their Fames
Glorious, to Time, and Equall in their Names.
200
To honour the Memorie of Loyaltie & Courage eminentlie glorious in: Sir T: M
Tears are the orphans of Distresséd Care;
I will not blot his Mention with a Teare,
Whose name deserves a Trophie; though he fell
Vntimelie, to his freinds, he dyed soe well,
It were a Sin to Honour, to lament
Him in his Fate, his Life's best ornament.
I will not blot his Mention with a Teare,
Whose name deserves a Trophie; though he fell
Vntimelie, to his freinds, he dyed soe well,
It were a Sin to Honour, to lament
Him in his Fate, his Life's best ornament.
That Day, that Day of Blood, which Fame shall write
Red in her Annals, knowes how farre he might
Claime all I would ascribe.—He could not live
To better purpose, then his bodie give
A willing Sacrifize, vnto the Cause
Hee valued Dearer;—for he knew noe pause;
Noe Limitation, would his Zeale allow.
Hee valued Death but as he found it now,
Reward, vnto his Services.—
Red in her Annals, knowes how farre he might
Claime all I would ascribe.—He could not live
To better purpose, then his bodie give
A willing Sacrifize, vnto the Cause
Hee valued Dearer;—for he knew noe pause;
Noe Limitation, would his Zeale allow.
Hee valued Death but as he found it now,
Reward, vnto his Services.—
How many that sad Day can make a Storie
Of what they did? Romances of vaine Glorie;
But scarce a Tongve can tell of Him, whose Zeale
Transported Him beyond All they could tell.
Noe doubt Each did his part; but it can fall
A wrong to None, to write a Truth of All.
His liveing Name and Honours are compleat,
And fitt for Storie, in his glorious Fate.
Of what they did? Romances of vaine Glorie;
But scarce a Tongve can tell of Him, whose Zeale
Transported Him beyond All they could tell.
201
A wrong to None, to write a Truth of All.
His liveing Name and Honours are compleat,
And fitt for Storie, in his glorious Fate.
It might have bene a brave Ambition in
A Common Man—(but he could never Sin,
In Second Ends)—to run vpon the Edge
Of a considered Ruine; where the pledge
Was his owne Countrie, and the Glorie more
Then all his Actions could have bene before;
This might have moved another, but he weigh'd
His Loyaltie meer motive; nothing Swaied
By vulgar hopes of Fame, or the ostent
Which Some (perhaps) had framéd ere they went.
Hee, these Contemned; and all he had of Ayme,
Was but to right his Master; though his name
Had bene a Thing forgot. But Fate is Iust
And proper in Rewards;—soe vertue must
Triumph in her owne progress; and the Crowne
Of honour falls to her Each Action.
A Common Man—(but he could never Sin,
In Second Ends)—to run vpon the Edge
Of a considered Ruine; where the pledge
Was his owne Countrie, and the Glorie more
Then all his Actions could have bene before;
This might have moved another, but he weigh'd
His Loyaltie meer motive; nothing Swaied
By vulgar hopes of Fame, or the ostent
Which Some (perhaps) had framéd ere they went.
Hee, these Contemned; and all he had of Ayme,
Was but to right his Master; though his name
Had bene a Thing forgot. But Fate is Iust
And proper in Rewards;—soe vertue must
Triumph in her owne progress; and the Crowne
Of honour falls to her Each Action.
I will not mourne for him, nor bid at all
The dull Astonisht world one teare let fall;
I will not Sin soe much against my faith.
Where he is nigh a Martir in his Death,
It were vnmanlie to his Memorie
To bring such low and whineing Elegie.
Such for vncurrant Knights or new-coyn'd Squire
Might Suite; and straine the Poet to his hire;
But like himselfe, let vs attend his Herse,
With Masculine Expressions, in a Verse,
True to his Honour; wee a little proud
Soe to record Him; but I am not loud
Enough, to publish what the stronger Breath
Of Fame takes from Mee here; His Life, His Death.
The dull Astonisht world one teare let fall;
I will not Sin soe much against my faith.
Where he is nigh a Martir in his Death,
It were vnmanlie to his Memorie
To bring such low and whineing Elegie.
Such for vncurrant Knights or new-coyn'd Squire
Might Suite; and straine the Poet to his hire;
202
With Masculine Expressions, in a Verse,
True to his Honour; wee a little proud
Soe to record Him; but I am not loud
Enough, to publish what the stronger Breath
Of Fame takes from Mee here; His Life, His Death.
To the honour of Sr: M: L: Commrd: in Ch': at the Releife of P'.
Where Common Soules are startled, (and the LowChannels in Sordid Cowards dare not flow,
But everie Drop lyes throbbing at the heart,
And Strikes a Palsey thorough everie part)
There, the heroicke Spirrit, vntroubled, moves,
And Danger (as the worthiest obiect) loves.
Each Common Action has its Common Praise;
But onlie great Designes are fit to raise
Immortall Trophies to Adorne a Name,
And Crowne Desert, in the full breath of Fame.
Soe may this Action stand, where (not alone
Successe was doubted, in opinion,
203
A certaine Ruine; and (though instant need
Presse the designe) are cold, and cannot Spye
A seeming Face of Probabilitye,
In the Attempt. Here Magnanimitie
Lookes on the Act, in the Necessitie
Of a distresséd Freind; not led in Heat
Of Frenzye, nor inspired with the Feat
To other Ends then Noble. Some, surmize
Iudgment scarce warranted the Enterprize:
Oh, Pardon me; for men of Honour breath
A purer Ayre; and somewhat neare to faith,
Moves to their vndertakings; something hid
Lyes to encourage vertue.—What once bid
The mightie Cæsar, in all Exigents
Persist? What Reason had his Confidence?
Some great Instinct (which Cowards will not know)
Qvickens and gvideth Vertue. Hee dare doe
What the dull frighted Pilote dares not thinke:
Thou Carriest Cæsar! Cæsar cannot Sinke;
Be bold in Cæsar's Fortune; who Reserved
To better Fate, has bene till now preserved;
And if the gviding Influence here faile
Him to protect, it is enough, to fall
With Cæsar, in his Fate.—Each noble brest
Has this inhærent Fire. What Hee exprest
Vertue still pleads; and fortune oft Attends
A Resolution pitch't on noble Ends.
204
And Sacrifized to Ruine, in the Thought
Of Some (who were Freinds to the Enterprize,)
The Action prospers;—Boast not victories
Too Loud, vncertaine Fame! Truth only tell
The honour of the Action; which may well
Erect a Piramid.—But Blood & Slaughter scarce
Support ye Name of honour. Hee Appears
Lesse glorious in the Crimson of that Day,
(Where Hee, his Numbers treebled, beat away;
Where many Deaths of Enemies, and All
The Spoile of Armes, to Him (as victor) fall),
Then in the hearts of liveing Men. Soe farre
Humanitie enforces, beyond warre,
In the Sterne Rape of Power. Live, mightie Soule,
To perfect many Such, whilst I enroll
In a darke verse thy Fame; till (by thy Sword
The Age reduc'd) I may bequeath a word,
Fit to enforme Posteritie what Name
Wee owe our Peace to; when the better Flame
Of Poesie (now Shaded) may by thee
Again b' inspir'd to Truth and Libertie.
Till when, my Numbers doe noe further spread;
I will not Write what others may not Reade.
205
Vpon an excellent Treatise Written by T: B: D: M: called Religio Medici
I have not seen, (let me speake modestlie,)
A finer Peice of Ingenuitie,
Then in these Leaves laide out. When I survay
This Bodie, I am rapt, and loose my way
With wonder and Delight; soe caught, soe tyed
I have noe Power to Change, to looke aside.
For who can fixe vpon a vulgar Face
To such a beautie? whose abundant Grace
Strikes each Beholder. In such Similies
Wee humor Sence, and raise but Fantasies.
A finer Peice of Ingenuitie,
Then in these Leaves laide out. When I survay
This Bodie, I am rapt, and loose my way
With wonder and Delight; soe caught, soe tyed
I have noe Power to Change, to looke aside.
For who can fixe vpon a vulgar Face
To such a beautie? whose abundant Grace
Strikes each Beholder. In such Similies
Wee humor Sence, and raise but Fantasies.
I now decline 'em here, and would not fill
This Page with varnish of a trifling Qvill;
But give a cleare round Sence; for 'twer in Mee
An Error sure (almost Impietye)
To be reserved; and that I may not blanch
My owne Conceptions (though with Ignorance
Perhaps Enough) take it in Short: I find
The livelie Image of a free-borne mind
Speake, in a Stile soe Cleare, a Sence soe full,
I hardlie know an Equall; nothing Dull,
But with a Spirrit, the same still; though in All
I cannot ioyne; but to the rationall
Exception, as each Genius intends
A severall way, and vnto severall Ends;
Let me but varie, to my owne, as hee
To his owne Reason bends, (and certainlie
Hee limitts noe man) and I cannot fall
For Distances in Some, to leave in All
This Authour; whom I honour much, and prise
His generous Attempt; who would make wise
Deluded Men, and from Infirmitie,
Erect a Structure of Abilitie.
This Page with varnish of a trifling Qvill;
But give a cleare round Sence; for 'twer in Mee
An Error sure (almost Impietye)
To be reserved; and that I may not blanch
My owne Conceptions (though with Ignorance
Perhaps Enough) take it in Short: I find
The livelie Image of a free-borne mind
206
I hardlie know an Equall; nothing Dull,
But with a Spirrit, the same still; though in All
I cannot ioyne; but to the rationall
Exception, as each Genius intends
A severall way, and vnto severall Ends;
Let me but varie, to my owne, as hee
To his owne Reason bends, (and certainlie
Hee limitts noe man) and I cannot fall
For Distances in Some, to leave in All
This Authour; whom I honour much, and prise
His generous Attempt; who would make wise
Deluded Men, and from Infirmitie,
Erect a Structure of Abilitie.
Who sees his wants is wise; Hee more, who can
Supplye his owne, and bring a Stocke to man;
Man-generall; from whence in full repaires
A Strong-built Edifice, Each man appears.
Supplye his owne, and bring a Stocke to man;
Man-generall; from whence in full repaires
A Strong-built Edifice, Each man appears.
These are the Fruits of his industrious Pen;
T' vnvaile himselfe and informe other men;
Soe naturallie plaine, so simply cleare,
I know him by his Booke, as were Hee here;
For it must bee Himselfe; and 'tis Enough
Reading this Booke, the Man himselfe to know;
To which great Character, what Man dares thinke
(Fondlie Audacious) to adde with Inke?
Hee is above the vanitie of Praise;
And what wee adde, below him manie waies.
T' vnvaile himselfe and informe other men;
Soe naturallie plaine, so simply cleare,
I know him by his Booke, as were Hee here;
For it must bee Himselfe; and 'tis Enough
Reading this Booke, the Man himselfe to know;
To which great Character, what Man dares thinke
(Fondlie Audacious) to adde with Inke?
Hee is above the vanitie of Praise;
And what wee adde, below him manie waies.
207
I know he has a Mind soe free, soe full,
Hee onlie writes Himselfe, and would not pull
Any of Force to follow in the Tracke
Hee paceth out; nor keeps Hee any backe;
But Each may move within his proper Sphere,
And bee with Him as free as Hee is here
With all the World. Then with enlargéd Minds,
Receive a worthie Gvest; but my Sence binds
Onlie my Selfe; and I should preiudice
You, (Equall Readers); all Capacities
May (to their Strengths) Iudge others witt; and none
Is limited by my Opinion,
Or by the Square I move by: I am free
To Truth, to Honour, and to Industrie;
And what I raise, is not to bring my owne
Name, as a Second or Intruder, on
Fame's Theatre; and more securelie sitt
Vnder the Pent-house of another's witt.
Hee onlie writes Himselfe, and would not pull
Any of Force to follow in the Tracke
Hee paceth out; nor keeps Hee any backe;
But Each may move within his proper Sphere,
And bee with Him as free as Hee is here
With all the World. Then with enlargéd Minds,
Receive a worthie Gvest; but my Sence binds
Onlie my Selfe; and I should preiudice
You, (Equall Readers); all Capacities
May (to their Strengths) Iudge others witt; and none
Is limited by my Opinion,
Or by the Square I move by: I am free
To Truth, to Honour, and to Industrie;
And what I raise, is not to bring my owne
Name, as a Second or Intruder, on
Fame's Theatre; and more securelie sitt
Vnder the Pent-house of another's witt.
I have noe End, noe Ayme, beyond the free
Acknowledgment, how it hath taken Mee.
And all I thinke on, is but what to Say
To such a Freind as I can never pay.
It is beyond my Stocke, and all I can
Alledge Excuse, is, I'me but a poor Man.
Is is Enough, I know, for that hee'le spare me;
I have it vnder's Hand within to cleare me.
'Tis time I make an End; Each, as he list
Pursue his Thoughts, and wander, in the mist
Of his Affections; I am pleased to looke
At men, in the cleare Mirror of this Booke.
Acknowledgment, how it hath taken Mee.
And all I thinke on, is but what to Say
To such a Freind as I can never pay.
It is beyond my Stocke, and all I can
Alledge Excuse, is, I'me but a poor Man.
Is is Enough, I know, for that hee'le spare me;
I have it vnder's Hand within to cleare me.
'Tis time I make an End; Each, as he list
Pursue his Thoughts, and wander, in the mist
208
At men, in the cleare Mirror of this Booke.
Augusti 1o Die: 1646.
To my honored Cozen P: Cr: Esqr. an Affectionate Invitation
If Flesh and Blood, or Prudee's name could charme,
You might appear at Beswicke; but I'le arme
You with more preiudice then you suspect.
Our Feilds are barren; three daies, full erect,
(Pardon the word) in Expectation
T' have seene you here; the purest Distillation
Our villages are proud of, is broke through
The double Limbecke; and ther's none for you.
You might appear at Beswicke; but I'le arme
You with more preiudice then you suspect.
Our Feilds are barren; three daies, full erect,
(Pardon the word) in Expectation
T' have seene you here; the purest Distillation
Our villages are proud of, is broke through
The double Limbecke; and ther's none for you.
Tom, if you Laugh, Ime angrie; to appease
That Furie, let me meet you, where you please;
I hope our Lockinton may yet produce
Some thriftie Chimist's Store; something of Iuice
Which (though not Spirrit) may a Spirrit raise.
You know in diverse Men, how manie waies;
In mee, noe fire, can mount, beyond that Sphere
I place my best freinds in; and you are there:
That Furie, let me meet you, where you please;
I hope our Lockinton may yet produce
Some thriftie Chimist's Store; something of Iuice
Which (though not Spirrit) may a Spirrit raise.
You know in diverse Men, how manie waies;
In mee, noe fire, can mount, beyond that Sphere
I place my best freinds in; and you are there:
This hastilie, from Dear Cozen: G. D.
Februaij: 26: 1646.
209
To the Memorie of the Excellent Dramatique English Poets; Mr. Fra: Beaumont & Mr. Io: Fletcher;
Vpon the Impresssion of their Severall Comedies, Tragidies, &c:
I knew you not; therefore, what I may say
Is free from Passion; other People may
Distingvish in your workes; which vnto mee
Appears like Sizors of Impietie,
To part the Webbe, which you still kept intire
And loved it Soe. As in the Globe, noe higher
Nor lower, properlie is vnderstood;
Soe in your orbéd witt, I know noe Flood
To drowne the other's Earth; noe Element
But was soe pois'd, it made one Excellent
Equallie-moveing Sphere; others, who knew
Your severall parts, may give, as they thinke due;
For me, I am forbid. What you thought fitt
To ioyne (Your Selves?) I will not Sever itt.
Fletcher and Beaumount! Who shall ere devide
These noble Twinn's? Twins, by the Surer side;
Crossing the vulgar mouth, who gape and yawne;
Credit, or Kindred meerlye by the Spawne;
And can see nothing higher. Mother witt
Was still their Charter, and they claime by 't yet.
You, Sons of Phebus; (bright as his owne Light
Vnto our Ile, late wrapt vp in the Night
Of Ignorance, where witt might but appeare
Like owles, in Twilight) have redeem'd vs here;
And like those happie Fires (Auspicious still
To Navigators, ioyn'd, if Single, ill
And Fate-portending;) you revivéd have
Witt's Barke, long tost vpon a dangerous wave;
And Shine, to gvide and Comfort those who trye
That ocean, for some new Discoverie.
If there be any world beyond what you
Have given maps for; Straights which none yet knew,
Yet some shall vndertake; Your ioyné Flames
Direct 'em; who, to Celebrate your Names,
Shall Pillars raise, inscribéd, by what Light
They past the false Fires; & arrivéd right
In the safe Port, of ------. Thus to you
Future Endeavours must be ascribéd too.
Is free from Passion; other People may
Distingvish in your workes; which vnto mee
Appears like Sizors of Impietie,
To part the Webbe, which you still kept intire
And loved it Soe. As in the Globe, noe higher
Nor lower, properlie is vnderstood;
Soe in your orbéd witt, I know noe Flood
To drowne the other's Earth; noe Element
But was soe pois'd, it made one Excellent
Equallie-moveing Sphere; others, who knew
Your severall parts, may give, as they thinke due;
For me, I am forbid. What you thought fitt
To ioyne (Your Selves?) I will not Sever itt.
Fletcher and Beaumount! Who shall ere devide
These noble Twinn's? Twins, by the Surer side;
Crossing the vulgar mouth, who gape and yawne;
Credit, or Kindred meerlye by the Spawne;
210
Was still their Charter, and they claime by 't yet.
You, Sons of Phebus; (bright as his owne Light
Vnto our Ile, late wrapt vp in the Night
Of Ignorance, where witt might but appeare
Like owles, in Twilight) have redeem'd vs here;
And like those happie Fires (Auspicious still
To Navigators, ioyn'd, if Single, ill
And Fate-portending;) you revivéd have
Witt's Barke, long tost vpon a dangerous wave;
And Shine, to gvide and Comfort those who trye
That ocean, for some new Discoverie.
If there be any world beyond what you
Have given maps for; Straights which none yet knew,
Yet some shall vndertake; Your ioyné Flames
Direct 'em; who, to Celebrate your Names,
Shall Pillars raise, inscribéd, by what Light
They past the false Fires; & arrivéd right
In the safe Port, of ------. Thus to you
Future Endeavours must be ascribéd too.
Soe long as Socke or Buskin treads the Stage,
Beaumont and Fletcher shall enrich the Age;
Or Should the Malice of hot mouths proceed
To Silence Theaters; let even Witt bleed
To death in Catharrs, and the raging fire
Of Envie Swallow truth; when they expire.
Beaumont and Fletcher shall enrich the Age;
Or Should the Malice of hot mouths proceed
To Silence Theaters; let even Witt bleed
To death in Catharrs, and the raging fire
Of Envie Swallow truth; when they expire.
November 15, 1647. G. Daniel.
211
Sent to my dearest Brother Sexto Septembr, 1648: by Rt: Ta
Though I can nothing Say, that may accrue
To vindicate Discretion; take a new
Way betwixt vs, of intercourse: Oh God!
Why should I write in verse? Where I am proud
I write soe ever. 'Tis a Facultie
I doe not boast, but Love it Modestlie.
What, should I write? I will not speake of Feats,
High Stories, to out-rant our dull Gazetts.
Wee have noe Cause to boast; Enough, let me
Write to a Brother; if that Notion be
Not neare Enough, I would ye world might know
Vs, by what Hee merits, what I owe.
To vindicate Discretion; take a new
Way betwixt vs, of intercourse: Oh God!
Why should I write in verse? Where I am proud
I write soe ever. 'Tis a Facultie
I doe not boast, but Love it Modestlie.
What, should I write? I will not speake of Feats,
High Stories, to out-rant our dull Gazetts.
Wee have noe Cause to boast; Enough, let me
Write to a Brother; if that Notion be
Not neare Enough, I would ye world might know
Vs, by what Hee merits, what I owe.
I speake of Freindship then; your Freind (my dear
Nephew,) has honored Mee; Hee knowes how farre
I am from Sence now; but (to You, I speake
Had it not bene to him, I hardlie breake
My Reservation, though our Yorkeshire Ayre
Infects both Men, and Beast, Cheape in a Fayre,
Yet) let me Say, had not that freind (whom I
Prize, to your Character) soe handsomelye
Obliged me, for your Selfe and for my owne
Now late Acquaintance; I had hardlye gone
Out of my old dull Prose; I might have writt
Something of Sence; but I pretend to Witt;
Now fired (at lest) with Love, to see your freind,
And with a little wine; but let me End
Vnder this Caution; if this whole Amisse
Seeme foolish, to your Sober Eyes; 'tis His
Who now is (not Soe,
But) Dear Brother,
Nephew,) has honored Mee; Hee knowes how farre
I am from Sence now; but (to You, I speake
Had it not bene to him, I hardlie breake
My Reservation, though our Yorkeshire Ayre
Infects both Men, and Beast, Cheape in a Fayre,
Yet) let me Say, had not that freind (whom I
212
Obliged me, for your Selfe and for my owne
Now late Acquaintance; I had hardlye gone
Out of my old dull Prose; I might have writt
Something of Sence; but I pretend to Witt;
Now fired (at lest) with Love, to see your freind,
And with a little wine; but let me End
Vnder this Caution; if this whole Amisse
Seeme foolish, to your Sober Eyes; 'tis His
Who now is (not Soe,
But) Dear Brother,
Yours, entirelie Affectionate; G. Daniel.
213
An Ode Vpon the incomparable Liricke Poesie Written by Mr. George Herbert;
Entituled The Temple:
Lord! yet how dull am I!
When I would flye
Vp to the Region of thy Glories! where
Onlie true formes appeare;
My long-brail'd Pineons, (clumsye and vnapt)
I cannot Spread;
I am all dullnes; I was Shap't
Only to flutter in the lower Shrubbs
Of Earth-borne follies. Out, Alas!
When I would treade
A higher Step, ten thousand thousand Rubbs,
Prevent my Pace.
When I would flye
Vp to the Region of thy Glories! where
Onlie true formes appeare;
My long-brail'd Pineons, (clumsye and vnapt)
I cannot Spread;
I am all dullnes; I was Shap't
Only to flutter in the lower Shrubbs
Of Earth-borne follies. Out, Alas!
When I would treade
A higher Step, ten thousand thousand Rubbs,
Prevent my Pace.
This Glorious Larke, with humble Honour, I
Admire and 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 neare, (I will not Say, how nigh;)
In flight, as well as faith.
Let me asham'd, creepe backe into my Shell;
And humbly Listen to his Layes.
'Tis preiudice, what I intended Praise;
As where they fall so Lowe, all Words are Still.
Admire and praise;
But when I raise,
My Selfe, I fall asham'd, to see him flye.
214
First trod this path.
Hee followes neare, (I will not Say, how nigh;)
In flight, as well as faith.
Let me asham'd, creepe backe into my Shell;
And humbly Listen to his Layes.
'Tis preiudice, what I intended Praise;
As where they fall so Lowe, all Words are Still.
Our vntun'd Lirecks, onlie fitt
To Sing our Selfe-borne-Cares,
Dare not, of Him; or had wee Witt,
Where might wee find out Ears
Worthy his Character? If wee may bring
Our Accent to his Name!
This Stand, of Lirecks, Hee, the vtmost Fame
Has gain'd; and now they vaile, to heare Him Sing;
Bocace in voice, and Casimire in winge.
To Sing our Selfe-borne-Cares,
Dare not, of Him; or had wee Witt,
Where might wee find out Ears
Worthy his Character? If wee may bring
Our Accent to his Name!
This Stand, of Lirecks, Hee, the vtmost Fame
Has gain'd; and now they vaile, to heare Him Sing;
Bocace in voice, and Casimire in winge.
Decembr: 8t: 1.6.4.8: G. Daniel.
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