The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed: And Those which he Design'd for the Press, Now Published out of the Authors Original Copies ... The Text Edited by A. R. Waller |
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 | The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley |  |
THE MOTTO.
Tentanda via est, &c.
What shall I do to be for ever known,
And make the Age to come my own?
I shall like Beasts or Common People dy,
Unless you write my Elegy;
Whilst others Great, by being Born are grown,
Their Mothers Labour, not their own.
In this Scale Gold, in th'other Fame does ly,
The weight of that, mounts this so high.
These men are Fortunes Jewels, moulded bright;
Brought forth with their own fire and light.
If I, her vulgar stone for either look;
Out of my self it must be strook.
Yet I must on; what sound is't strikes mine ear?
Sure I Fames Trumpet hear.
It sounds like the last Trumpet; for it can
Raise up the bur'ied Man.
Unpast Alpes stop me, but I'll cut through all,
And march, the Muses Hannibal.
Hence all the flattering vanities that lay
Nets of Roses in the way.
Hence the desire of Honors, or Estate;
And all, that is not above Fate.
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Which intercepts my coming praise.
Come my best Friends, my Books, and lead me on;
'Tis time that I were gon.
Welcome, great Stagirite, and teach me now
All I was born to know.
Thy Scholars vict'ries thou dost far out-do;
He conquer'd th' Earth, the whole World you.
Welcome learn'd Cicero, whose blest Tongue and Wit
Preserves Romes greatness yet.
Thou art the first of Ora'tors; only he
Who best can praise Thee, next must be.
Welcome the Mantu'an Swan, Virgil the Wise,
Whose verse walks highest, but not flies.
Who brought green Poesie to her perfect Age;
And made that Art which was a Rage.
Tell me, ye mighty Three, what shall I do
To be like one of you.
But you have climb'd the Mountains top, there sit
On the calm flour'ishing head of it,
And whilst with wearied steps we upward go,
See Us, and Clouds below.
| The Works of Mr Abraham Cowley | |