 | The Passionate Sparke of a Relenting Minde |  |
To the King his Maiestie.
1
Go thou proud Muse with thy ambitious flightLet Wisdome with her pleasing plumes adorn thee
If lofty thou should'st soare thy selfe from sight,
What need'st thou care, the worlds Enuy to scorn thee?
2
Let Heau'ns thy Song with Ecchoes still resound,A Royall Subiect doth thy wings vpholde,
And bids thee Mount aboue the valted Round,
Loue hath no scope, bee prodigall and bolde.
3
Go then my Muse His mightie Muse adorePull of the Veile that hid thy high desire
With consort sweet she shall thy song decore,
Her feathers faire giu's promise to aspire.
4
Then like the Larke ascen'd the Azure Ayre,With quiu'ring wings goe houer in the skye,
Out blast thy Notes, and send them here and there
Filling his eares with this melodious Crye.
5
O mightie King, Celestiall glory shineOuer thy Crowne and thy earth'ruling hand,
Let harts inspir'd thy happines deuine:
And let the world come stoupe at thy command.
6
Fame through this Globe most furious-like shall thūderFraught with thy praise on Vertues worth to flee
And choke the Earth with such admiring wonder
That potent Kings may come and honor thee.
7
Hartes shall Consume, of thy astonish'd foesTo see thy rare and high stupendious street
All pane at (whereon thou sacred goes)
With Crownes and Scepters thrown before thy feet.
8
Why hear'st thou not thy smiling Fortune call,And bids thee spurne that pleasure mak's thee stay?
Goe climbe her wheell, be not afraide to fall
Thy strength but thinks this world a sleuder pray.
9
Seeke first thy owne, what force can thee resist?A name with nought, makes all thy people rage
Like eager Haukes, reteinde vpon the fist,
Who cannot haue their hunger to asswage.
10
The Apple stayes the simple Childe to weepe,And doth appease his sobbing heart of harmes:
So flatt'ring songes lulles courage fast a sleepe,
And makes the Souldier throw away his Armes.
11
Now sits he wrapt vp in a warme furr'd gowne,Ouer the fire with firme-fixt-gazing eyes:
There battels braue Characters doth set downe,
Hee apprehends which thought deceiuing sees
12
An Armie there in bloudy rage forth goes,With furie for'st, swelde with reuenge and griefe:
And yonder flyes their faint and feeble foes,
Heere standes some troopes cut of without reliefe.
13
Some Martiall men bewitch't with beauty rare,Are intricate in Laborinthes of Loue:
And for'st to trie in fancies flatt'ring snare,
What sweet-mixt-sowre or pleasing paines can proue.
14
Then Nymph-like-she with strange intising lookeDoth so inchant the gallant minded men
The bayte still hides the poyson of the hooke
Till they be fast, and thus betray'd, what then?
15
Poore captiue slaues in bondage prostrate liesYeelding vnto her mercy-wanting-will
Shee in disdaine scornes all their carefull cries.
And Circes-like triumphes in learned skill.
16
With ambling trippes of beauties gorgeous graceAurora-like in firie colors clad
And with bright reflex of her fairest face
She tempting goes with brainsicke humors lad.
17
Fearing that if she should but looke belowThen Beames would from her burning eyes descend
On Iuory brest proud swelling hils of snow
Would melt, consume, and all their beauty spend.
18
And so she lets her curled lockes downe fallWhich do allure the gentle cooling winde
To come and play stil wrapping vp in thrall
Chaines of her haire, fonde louers hearts to binde.
19
Beautie in prime adorn'd doth feede the sightFrom Crimson lipps sweet Nectars gust forth flowes
Odor's perfumes the breath, not Natures right
White Iuorie hands a sacred touch bestowes.
20
And when those pearle of Orientall-rankesWith treasure rich of tempting sound deuides
From two bright daintie mouing-corall-bankes
In-circkled eares calme smothing speeches slides.
21
Ech sencelesse sence on doting pleasure fastDoth in a carelesse Register inroule.
Wishing that course of swift-wing'd Time to last
Which spots the spotlesse substance of the soule.
22
But oh beholde, Nature in morning weedeWepes to be wrong'd with supesttitious Art
For what can braines of rare inuention breede?
Or what's vnsought which pleasure may impart?
23
The sharpest wit whose quicke deceiuing stillMakes restlesse musing of their minde to try
Vaine trifling snares, mixtur'd with Magicks skill
So Art adds that which Nature doth deny.
24
And thus much more sweete Syrens songs she sounds,To charme, coniure and tempt his listning eare:
Oh, then the poore Captiued wretch abounds
In peruerse vowes and monstrous othes to sweare.
25
By furious force of Fancy more than madd,With fond desire in restlesse course hee hunts:
Blinde Loue can not discerne the good from badd,
When on the eye-plumde tayle of pride it mounts.
26
The curious minde makes choise of good or ill,Then scales the fort of his engine to clym
Aboue the top of Art-exceeding skill,
Perfect in that predominates in him.
27
Drunke with the wonders of a worthlesse worth,From prospect of a looking glasse he takes
Strange Apish trickes to set his folly forth,
Mockt with the gesture, that his shadow makes.
28
When foolish feates no waies will serue his turne,All hope is drownd in despaires groundlesse deepe:
In restlesse bed (hee martir'd man) must mourne,
Thoughts, sighes, and teares admitt no kind of sleep.
29
Thus layes the Conquest Conquerour of fieldeson his hurte harte he carries Cupids skarre.
The skiruie fainting Coward basely yieldes:
to idle Loue the enemie of warre.
30
Now Trumpets sounde, braue Martiall musick turnesTo fiddling noise, or ells some am'rous songe,
That glorious fame her winges of worth now burnes,
When golden youth in prime must suffer wronge.
31
Thus gallant sprights doe quintesence their wittes,Spending the rare inuention of their braines,
On idle toyes, at which high honor spittes,
Nor memoriz'd memorials remaines.
32
What Marble minde at this would not amaze,To see the ambusht robberies and spoyles,
O Royall Sir, with Conquering eyes now gaze,
Conquer this losse tha'ts lost in all thy soyles.
33
Goe, goe, and make the skiruie world to yielde (force)Which trembling stoopes, made feareful with thy
Outsprede an host vpon ech forreigne fielde:
And from selfe pleasure, doe they selfe diuorce.
34
(But stay my Muse recall this word of woe)Thy selfe shall with thy second selfe abide,
The glorious issue of thy loynes shall goe
His honor shall the proude earths honor hide.
35
It's he the florish of thy Princely prime,It's he that Kings are made for to adore
It's he bewayles the slow and tardy time,
It's he that weepes there is not worlds in store.
36
It's he that with a greater Courage com's,Than Godfrey did to sackt the Pagan Turke
With Trūpets sounds & with great noise of Drum's,
It's wondrous hee will set this world on wourke.
37
In his approch allegreat thy owne,With mightie Musicke of a Martiall mirth.
Beholde thou mak'st great Neptunes pride be showne,
Adorning him with such a gorgeous birth.
38
Let matchlesse marching-Castles with the winde,In Armies strong and stately troopes forth shine:
Now let them goe as harbingers to finde,
Ech vnknowne Coast and tell them all is thine.
39
Looke on that power that potent thou Commands,In learned Militarie Art, and how,
Thy eager-harted ventring Subiects stands
Wayting that Gallant warriours word. Goe tow,
40
Then doe not stay Victorious Troph's to raise,Let my Tryumphes through Sea and earth be spred,
When thou art dead high fame shall pen thy praise,
Of great renowne in volumes to be read.
41
Thou Eagle thou looke not on base fowles winges,Out-stretch thy owne and flye this world about.
Thou Lyon thou leaue beasts and hunt at Kinges,
From their vsurped dennes goe rouse them out.
42
Prowde Valor for the vangard shall make strife,And loftie sprights for Honor will aduance.
Let him be loath'd that loth's to loose his life,
Or in thy quarrell skornes to trye his chaunce.
43
He will be first who dying liu'd to see,This soyle thy right gouern'd with thy great grace:
And that blacke mist of vap'rous clowdes to flee
Which long obscur'd the splendors of thy face.
44
O, when he heard thy peoples ioy proclameThe righteous King in their exalting Cryes,
And when he heard them sound thy sacred Name,
He threw his hatte vp in the azure skies.
45
On the Tow'rs toppe incarcerat he stood,And said, O rare and sweete exchange in deede!
Thou fleetst on Neptunes dutie-paying flood,
Hatte, thou art lost, and I haue gainde a heade;
46
His Lady staide her sweete eyes siluer streames,The hart-burst sighes which ye deere dame did breath:
Thou with the radiāt brightnes of thy beames
Expeld her woes, and his vntimely death.
47
Pittie in thee doth Pitties selfe surpasse,With pittie heare thy peoples mourninge songes:
Looke in abuse, as in a looking glasse,
Appease this plague of their pestif'rous wronges
48
With treasure rich and rare adorning giftesOf Iustice ioynde with mercy both in one:
See how the worngde Complainer kneeling liftes,
His hands, his eyes, and sighes with martring mone.
49
He saies O Sir I would to God thou sawe,What numbers great, Damn'd Vsurie doth kill
The snakye Lawyer with vnlawfull lawe
He suckes the hartblood of his Clients still,
50
His hopelesse shiftes will promise very fayer,And take their soule, if that their soule were golde
He robbes them first, then drownes them in dispaire,
So poore mens right, is to the rich men solde.
51
To come to thee alas they'r chokte with feare,Some are put backe, when kneeling on their knees
Doe what they can before they get thy eare,
The bribrous Minion, needes will haue his fees.
52
He takes in hand ech sute both great or small,And sweares they'r sure yea to them surely lost.
For first he tryes the walue of them all,
And selles them quite to those that will giue most.
53
When dayes, weekes, moneths, and yeeres are spent (he telles)The Kinge will no waies graunt your sutes; farewell,
This whorles the poore man in a hundred helles
Both them and theirs to begge, to robbe, and steale.
[_]
The stanza numbers from the source document have been followed from stanza 53 to the end of the poem.
53
O Heau'ns what filthie Colors can I haue.To painte such vgly Monsters in their kinde:
They flatter most when they would most deceaue,
There hony tonges stinges with a Vip'rous minde.
54
It's this vile Caterpillers Mischeifes-Nurse,That fills thy Commons full of sad Complaintes,
Thou com'st to cure this strange consuming Curse,
At which I know thy ruthfull hart relents.
55
I care not for the falty-ons enuie,I know this Phisicke makes his soule to smart:
O that it could both make him Weepe and Crie.
Whil'st Conscience-worme eates vp his giltie hart.
56
Spare not Reuenge, God sends thee to redresse,Long-suffring-greife, and Rigor to remoue
Treade down their heads ye would the poore oppresse
So shalt thou win and keepe thy peoples loue.
57
Still may thy loue with their true loue be bought,Still may thy Crown bring Crownes vpon thy Crown
Still may thy worth with wond'rous worth be wrought
Stil may renowne inrich thy rich renowne.
58
Still maist thou reigne in happines and health.And still mayst thou in being euer bee:
Belieue me Sir my loue is all my wealth,
And all that wealth I sacrifice to thee.
So only Loue hath giuen my Muse this flight,
And makes her come salute thy sacred sight.
FINIS.
| The Passionate Sparke of a Relenting Minde | |