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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To honour the Memorie of Loyaltie &
Courage eminentlie glorious in: Sir T: M
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 | The poems of George Daniel |  |
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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.
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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;
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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 poems of George Daniel | |