University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Seauen Satyres

Applyed to the weeke, including the worlds ridiculous follyes. True faelicity described in the Phoenix. Maulgre. Whereunto is annexed the wandring Satyre. By W. Rankins
  

collapse section 
  
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
SATYR. tertius. Contra Mercurialistam.
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


7

SATYR. tertius. Contra Mercurialistam.

Light footed Fauni for a while farewell,
Nimble companions in our Siluane court,
I go where subtiltie and craft do dwell,
Where wise supposed Orators resort,
Where wizards of sweete Art do make a sport.
Where golden Mydas holds it for his creede,
Apolloes Lute sounds worse than oaten reede.
Behold a Bruite that scarce can hold his pen,
Yet thinks he hath Caducius in his hand,
And that his stile will charme the wisest men,
His shipwrack senses will not driue to land,

8

His ballet-fraughted ship is in a sand:
And welladay will hardly serue the turne.
Since he is drownd, his Epitaph may burne.
Another Artelesse mome bewitcht with praise,
Thrusts forth a patched Pamphlet into print,
When fooles on it, as on a pide coat gaze,
His copper words come out of coxecombs mint:
Fluent from Arte, as water from a flint.
Foure bookes he makes foure elbowes to present,
By his induction is his bawble meant.
O wretched iudgers of pure golden Arte,
Why do you bribe your wits with leaden lines?
Vnlawfull censure takes a lawlesse part,
Whilst fondnes deeper wisedome vndermines:
By this meanes, learnings sacred skill declines.
And yee your selues allowing wrong for right,
Argue your power to be of lesser might.

9

These counterfaites are like an Ebon tree,
Whose body beareth neither leafe nor fruite,
Nor any sap but cole black wood to see,
What glory then to that can men impute?
Except all vertuous plants they will refute:
So are these stocks but images of wood,
And barr'd from Art to make their breeding good.
But vnto Hermes lawfull sonnes in wit,
That scorne the fellowship of seemers so,
I wish them that due honor shall befit,
That they like sweete Ambrosian trees may grow,
Where Science with her compeeres sits arow,
But for the race of dolts and all their traine,
I wish them that they haue, headhiding shame.