University of Virginia Library

TO MY BROTHER

I like not Friends in rithme: nor will allow
His over-skillfull faith, whose Braines o'reflow
With deepe invention, while the streame of Love
Ebbs into aire; whose loose affections move
In artificiall numbers from his Pen,
That writes of Men Lovers, not Loving Men.
Give mee an earnest Soule, a sincere Heart,
Can sympathise without the helpe of Art.
Let Nature have her right in those, who are
By nature knit: let no crosse-building marr
This goodly frame; that well-tun'd harmonie;
In which who live, know Heaven before they dye:
'T is Love's Astronomy; Then why doe I
Confine my Selfe to this Geometrie,
Such earthly measure, such grosse lines? & when
I write against Art, play the Artist then?
But friendly Brother know this difference
Of common Friendship, led by outward Sence
Is none of Ours: so, wee'll not make a War
In things, wch in themselves doe never jarre:
If Art serve Nature, Nature governe Art,
Then both to serve us may well beare a part.
They not being contrary subordinate
Are to our Wishes; & compose the State
Of sweetly-mixt desires, firm brotherhood,
Of vertue, strength, perfection, & all good.
Then give mee leave at length t' admire in You,
That which 'twixt Us maintaines so strict a Vow.
I am all Wonder. Could my Pen lim forth
Like to Apelles Pencill, thy rare worth,
Thy Forehead on some Frontispiece should stand
Bedeck'd with Lawrell; & by Fame's high hand

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Supported tell to future Times from mee
The Muses show'd their Prodigallitie,
And likewise Nature, when both did impart
Their Gifts, to make thee Nature join'd wth Art.