Poems With the Muses Looking-Glasse. Amyntas. Jealous Lovers. Arystippus. By Tho: Randolph ... The fourth Edition enlarged [by Thomas Randolph] |
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Aulico-politico Academico.
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 | Poems |  |
Aulico-politico Academico.
A Character.
Thou Cozen to great Madams and allyed,To all the Beauties that are Ladified,
Thou Eagle of the Realm whose eyes can see,
Th'invisible plots of forraign policie,
Thou great and unknown Learning of the Nation
Made not by study, but by inspiration!
The Court, the State, the Schools together be
By th'ears, and fight, and scratch, and all for thee.
When I behold thee cringe in some faire Hall,
And scrape proportions Mathematicall,
Varying thy mouth as 'twere by Magick-spell
To circle, ovall, square, and triangle,
And take a Virgin by the Ivory hand
Minting words to her, none can understand
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So wellinchanted, none the sense can get,
Till they have conjur'd in lines strange and many,
To find what spirit it has, if it have any.
To see thy feet (though nature made them splay)
Screw in the toes to dance and force away
To some smooth measure, as might justly vaunt
Thou art turn'd Monsieur of an Elephant.
Thy mother sure going to see some sport,
Tilting, or Masque, conceav'd thee in the Court.
But when I view thee gravely nod, and spit
In a grave posture, shake the head, and fit
Plots to bring Spain to England, and confine
King Philips Indies unto Middletons Mine.
When I read o're thy Comments sagely writ
On the Currantoes, and with how much wit
Thy profound Aphorismes do expound to us
The Almanacks, and Gallobelgious;
When I conceive what news thou wilt bring o're
When thou return'st with thy Embassador,
VVhat flops the Switzers wears to hide his joynts,
How French, and how the Spanyard trusse their points,
How ropes of Onions at Saint Omers goe,
And whether Turks be Christians, yea or no.
Then I believe one in deep points so able,
VVas surely got under the Councell-table.
But when I heare thee of Celarent write
In Ferio, and Baralypton fight.
Methinks my then Prophetick soule durst tell
Thou must be born at Aristotles VVell.
But shall I tell thee friend how thy blest fate
By chance hath made thy name so fortunate
The State-man thinks thou hast too much oth' Court,
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Best for the State; as for the Ladies they
Pos'd with the Medley of the language, say
Th'art a meer Scholler, and the Scholler swears
Thou art of any tribe rather then then theirs.
One thinks thee this, one that, a third thinks either,
Thou thinkst thy self th'art all, and I think neither.
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