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Wittes Pilgrimage

(by Poeticall Essaies): Through a VVorld of amorous Sonnets, Soule-passions, and other Passages, Diuine, Philosophicall, Morall, Poeticall, and Politicall. By Iohn Davies
Davies, John (1565?-1618)
  
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To the Right noble, and Highly honored Lord Phillip Herbert, Earle of Mountgomery and Baron of Shurland. &c.
  
Againe, To the same truelie-noble Earle, and his most honorable other halfe Sir Iames Haies knight, &c.
  
The Booke to Grauitie.
  
The Author to his Muse.
  
Of my selfe.
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(102) Inuentions Life, Death, and Funerall.
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Other Sonnets vpon other Subiects.
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(I) The Trinity illustrated by a three-square perspectiue Glasse.
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In praise of Poesie.
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5. Sonnets in ppaise of Emincacy or a publike Life.
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An amorous Colloqui twixt Dorus, and Pamela.
  
The picture of Formosity.
  
In Loue is no Lothsomnes.
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Essaies vpon certaine Sentences.
  
Amans quid cupiat scit, quod sapiat non videt.
  
Be not ielous ouer the wife of thy bozome, neither teach hir by thy meanes an euill Lesson Ecclus. 9. 1.
  
Non est eiusdem & multa & opportuna dicere. Erasmus Chiliad:
  
Qualis vir talis oratio.
  
When the ritch man speakes, euery man holds his tongue and what he saith is praised vnto the Clouds, &c Ecclus. 13. 24.
  
Upon Apparitions in the Night.
  
Suum cuique pulchrum.
  
Stultus stulta loquitur.
  
Candidæ musarum ianuæ
  
Written to my deere Friend Maister Nicholas Deeble.
  
An Epitaph, or what you will, on the death of Maister Meece an harmelesse professed Foole who shall decease, when it shall please God, and him, made at his ernest request.
  
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Other Essayes vpon more serious and sacred Subiects.
  
Mortall Life compared to Post, and Pare.
  
My Corollarie.
  
Written to the Right Noble, and well-accomplished Ladie the Countesse Dowager of Pembroke.
  
Againe to Hir.
  
Written to the right Honorable, and most iuditious Lord William Earle of Pembrooke that now is.
  
Meete not an Harlot, least thou fall into hir Snares. Ecclus. 9. 3.
  
Gratious is the end that ends all our paines.
  
Quotidie est deterior posterior dies.
  
Enuy is blind and can do nothing but dispraise Vertue.
  
Vincit qui pætitur.
  
Againe.
  
In vindicando criminosa est celeritas.
  
Blessed is the Man that doth meditate honest things by Wisedome. Ecclus. 14. 21.
  
Sic transit gloria Mundi.
  
Respice finem.
  
A blind man cannot see the default of his Eyes.
  
There is no greater plague then Boldnesse and Powr, when they are accompanied with Ignorance.
  
In iudicando criminosa est celeritas.
  
Fortuna vitrea est, quæ cum splendet, frangitur. Publi.
  
A Dump vpon the death of the most noble Henrie late Earle of Pembrooke.
  
I said vnto Laughter, what art thou mad? And to Mirth what dost thou? Eccles. 2. 2.
  
Omnium rerum vicissitudo est. Terence.
  
Difficilia quæ pulchra.
  
I long for Life, vnlike to Death.
  
An Ode in commendation of Musick.
  
Nihil tam bene dictum, quod non fuit dictum prius.
  
Inough's as good as a feast.

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The Booke to Grauitie.

Thou that dost knitte the Brow to austere lookes,
At what but seemes; or else is lewde or light;
And lookst for wisedome oft in witlesse bookes,
(Sterne Grauity) auert from me thy sight.
I am the Issue of a labring braine,
Wherein all kind of Fancies, breeding bee:
Good, bad, indifferent, all, of either Straine
Some as vnfitte, as some are fitte for thee.
I probablie presume thou canst not loue,
Sith Saturne sits aboue faire Venus swaie
Then I am not for thee, for I do mooue
But in her Spheare that beares the world awaie.
Yet if (vnlike thy selfe) thou long'st to see
What, who, and whence I am, then smooth thy frōt
And looke on That which I haue good in mee
Aud for that good hold me in good account:
For, if (but like a flesh-flie) thou wilt light
On nought but Sores, and shun the soundest parts
Then nought sublunarie can thee delight:
For all haue faults though som haue perfect parts
I grant my Lines reache not to those Respectes
That touch Religion: State, or Policy.
I meddle not with Causes of Effects
Farre greater then Loues large capacity:
But in round rimes (with Reason Biac'd) I
Do runne those Points that ponit at loues delight:
And if some Rubbes do make me run awry
Yet may I, on this Ground well runne aright:
But, howsoere I runne, stoppe not my Race,
That tends but to the Mistris full of grace.
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