University of Virginia Library

previous section The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley
next section

11. Of My self.

456

[This only grant me, that my means may lye]

9

This only grant me, that my means may lye
Too low for Envy, for Contempt too high.
Some Honor I would have
Not from great deeds, but good alone.
The unknown are better than ill known.
Rumour can ope' the Grave,
Acquaintance I would have, but when't depends
Not on the number, but the choice of Friends.M
457

10

Books should, not business entertain the Light,
And sleep, as undisturb'd as Death, the Night.
My House a Cottage, more
Then Palace, and should fitting be
For all my Use, no Luxury.
My Garden painted o're
With Natures hand, not Arts; and pleasures yeild,
Horace might envy in his Sabine field.

11

Thus would I double my Lifes fading space,
For he that runs it well, twice runs his race.
And in this true delight,
These unbought sports, this happy State,
I would not fear nor wish my fate,
But boldly say each night,
To morrow let my Sun his beams display,
Or in clouds hide them; I have liv'd to Day.
460

Martial. L. 10. Ep. 47.

Vitam quæ faciunt beatio[r]em, &c.
Since, dearest Friend, 'tis your desire to see
A true Receipt of Happiness from Me;
These are the chief Ingredients, if not all;
Take an Estate neither too great nor small,
Which Quantum Sufficit the Doctors call.
Let this Estate from Parents care descend;
The getting it too much of Life does spend.
Take such a Ground, whose gratitude may be
A fair Encouragement for Industry.
Let constant Fires the Winters fury tame;
And let thy Kitchens be a Vestal Flame.
Thee to the Town let never Suit at Law;
And rarely, very rarely Business draw.
Thy active Mind in equal Temper keep,
In undisturbed Peace, yet not in sleep.
Let Exercise a vigorous Health maintain,
Without which all the Composition's vain.
In the same weight Prudence and Innocence take,
And of each does the just mixture make.
But a few Friendships wear, and let them be
By Nature and by Fortune fit for thee.
In stead of Art and Luxury in food,
Let Mirth and Freedome make thy Table good.
If any cares into thy Day-time creep,
At night, without Wines Opium, let them sleep.
Let rest, which Nature does to Darkness wed,
And not Lust, recommend to thee thy Bed,
Be satisfi'd, and pleas'd with what thou art;
Act chearfully and well th' alotted part,
Enjoy the present Hour, be thankful for the Past,
And neither fear, nor wish th' approaches of the last.
461

Martial Book 10. Epigram 96.

Me who have liv'd so long among the great,
You wonder to hear talk of a Retreat:
And a retreat so distant, as may show
No thoughts of a return when once I go.
Give me a Country, how remote so e're,
Where happiness a mod'rate rate does bear,
Where poverty it self in plenty flowes,
And all the solid use of Riches knowes.
The ground about the house maintains it there,
The House maintains the ground about it here.
Here even Hunger's dear, and a full board,
Devours the vital substance of the Lord.
The Land it self does there the feast bestow,
The Land it self must here to Market go.
Three or four suits one Winter here does wast,
One suit does there three or four winters last.
Here every frugal Man must oft be cold,
And little Luke-warm-fires are to you sold.
There Fire's an Element as cheap and free,
Almost as any of the other Three.
Stay you then here, and live among the Great,
Attend their sports, and at their tables eat.
When all the bounties here of Men you score:
The Places bounty there, shall give me more.
462

To the Duke of Buckingham, upon his Marriage with the Lord Fairfax his Daughter.

1.

Beauty and strength together came,
Even from the Birth with Buckingham;
The little active Seeds which since are grown
So fair, so large and high,
With Life it self were in him sown;
Honour and wealth stood like the Midwifes by,
To take the Birth into their happy Hands,
And wrapt him warme in their rich swaddling Bands:
To the great Stock the thriving Infant soon
Made greater Acquisitions of his own;
With Beauty generous Goodness he Combin'd,
Courage to Strength, Judgment to Wit he joyn'd;
He pair'd, and match'd his Native Virtues right,
Both to improve their use, and their Delight.

2.

O blest Conjunction of the fairest Stars,
That Shine in Humane Natures Sphere!
But O! what envious Cloud your Influence bars,
Ill fortune, what dost thou do there?
Hadst thou the least of Modesty,
Thou'dst be asham'd that we should see
463

Thy deform'd Looks, and Dress, in such a Company:
Thou wert deceiv'd, rash Goddess, in thy hate,
If thou dist foolishly believe
That thou could'st him of ought deprive,
But, what men hold of thee, a great Estate.
And here indeed thou to the full did shew
All that thy Tyrant Deity could do,
His Virtues never did thy power obey,
In dissipating Storms, and routed Battles they
Did close and constant with their Captain stay;
They with him into Exile went,
And kept their Home in Banishment.
The Noble Youth was often forc'd to flee
From the insatiate Rage of thee,
Disguised, and Unknown;
In all His shap'es they always kept their own,
Nay, with the Foil of darkness, brighter shone,
And might Unwillingly have don,
But, that just Heaven thy wicked Will abhor'd,
What Virtues most detest, might have betrayd their Lord.

3.

Ah slothful Love, could'st thou with patience see
Fortune usurp that flowry Spring from thee;
And nip thy rosy Season with a Cold,
That comes too soon, when Life's short year grows old,
Love his gross Error saw at last,
And promis'd large amends for what was past,
He promis'd, and has don it, which is more
Than I, who knew him long, e'er knew him do before.
H' has done it Nobly, and we must confess
Could do no more, though h' ought to do no less.
What has he don? he has repair'd
The Ruines which a luckless War did make,
And added to it a Reward
Greater than Conquest for its share could take.
His whole Estate could not such gain produce,
Had it layd out a hundred years at use.
464

4.

Now blessings to thy Noble choice betide,
Happy, and Happy-making Bride.
Though thou art born of a Victorious Race,
And all their rougher Victorie dost grace
With gentle Triumphs of thy Face,
Permit us in this milder War to prize
No less thy yeilding Heart, than thy Victorious Eyes.
Nor doubt the honour of that field,
Where thou didst first overcome, e'er thou didst yield.
And tho' thy Father's Martial Name
Has fill'd the Trumpets and the Drums of Fame,
Thy Husband triumphs now no less than He,
And it may justly question'd be,
Which was the Happiest Conqueror of the Three.

5.

There is in Fate (which none but Poets see)
There is in Fate the noblest Poetry,
And she has shown, Great Duke, her utmost Art in Thee;
For after all the troubles of thy Scene,
Which so confus'd, and intricate have been,
She has ended with this Match thy Tragicomedy;
We all admire it, for the truth to tell,
Our Poet Fate ends not all Plays so well;
But this she as her Master-piece does boast,
And so indeed She may;
For in the middle Acts, and turnings of the Play,
Alas! we gave our Hero up for lost.
All men, I see, this with Applause receive,
And now let me have leave,
A Servant of the Person, and the Art,
To Speak this Prologue to the second part.
previous section The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley
next section