The Whole Works of William Browne of Tavistock ... Now first collected and edited, with a memoir of the poet, and notes, by W. Carew Hazlitt, of the Inner Temple |
 | 1, 2. |
|
| 1. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 2. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 3. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| 1. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
|
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. | IX. Miscellaneous Pieces. |
| X. |
 | The Whole Works of William Browne |  |
350
IX. Miscellaneous Pieces.
ON A DREAME.
Vaine dreames, forbeare, ye but deceiuers be;
For as, in flattering glasses, women see
More beauty then possesse, so I in you
Haue all I can desire, but no thing true.
Who would be rich, to be soe but an howre,
Eates a sweet fruite, to rellish more the soure;
If, but to lose againe, we things possesse,
Nere to be happy is a happines.
Men walking in the pitchye shades of night
Can keepe their certeyne way, but if a light
Oretake, & leaue them, they are blinded more,
And doubtfull goe, that went secure before:
For this (though hardly) I haue ofte forborne
To see her face faire as the rosye Morne;
Yet mine owne thoughts in night such Traytors be,
That they betray me to that miserie.
For as, in flattering glasses, women see
More beauty then possesse, so I in you
Haue all I can desire, but no thing true.
Who would be rich, to be soe but an howre,
Eates a sweet fruite, to rellish more the soure;
If, but to lose againe, we things possesse,
Nere to be happy is a happines.
Men walking in the pitchye shades of night
Can keepe their certeyne way, but if a light
Oretake, & leaue them, they are blinded more,
And doubtfull goe, that went secure before:
For this (though hardly) I haue ofte forborne
To see her face faire as the rosye Morne;
Yet mine owne thoughts in night such Traytors be,
That they betray me to that miserie.
Then thinke no more of her! as soon I may
Command the sun to robbe vs of a day;
Or with a sive repell a liquid streame,
As lose such thoughts or hinder but a Dreame.
Command the sun to robbe vs of a day;
Or with a sive repell a liquid streame,
As lose such thoughts or hinder but a Dreame.
The lightsome ayre as easye hinder can
A glasse to take the forme of any man
That stands before it, as or time or place
Can draw a vayle betweene me & her face;
Yet by such thoughts my Torments howrely strive;
For, as a prisoner by his prospective,
By them I am inform'd of what I want:
I envy none now but the ignorant.
He that nere saw of whom I dream'd last night,
Is one borne blynd, that knowes no want of light;
He that nere kist these lipps, yet saw her eyes,
Is Adam living still in Paradise.
But if he taste those sweets (as haples I)
He knowes his want & meets his miserie:
An Indian rude that neuer heard one sing
A heauenly sonnet to a siluer string,
Nor other sounds, but what confused heards
In pathles deserts make, or brooks, or Birds,
Should he heare Syms the sweet pandora touch
And loose his heareing, streight he would as much
Lament his knowledge, as doe I my chance,
And wish he still had liv'd in ignorance.
I am that Indian, and my soothing Dreames
In thirst haue brought me but to painted streames,
Which not allaye, but more increase desire.
A man, nere frozen with December's ire,
Hath from a heape of glowwormes as much ease,
As I can euer haue by such as these.
A glasse to take the forme of any man
351
Can draw a vayle betweene me & her face;
Yet by such thoughts my Torments howrely strive;
For, as a prisoner by his prospective,
By them I am inform'd of what I want:
I envy none now but the ignorant.
He that nere saw of whom I dream'd last night,
Is one borne blynd, that knowes no want of light;
He that nere kist these lipps, yet saw her eyes,
Is Adam living still in Paradise.
But if he taste those sweets (as haples I)
He knowes his want & meets his miserie:
An Indian rude that neuer heard one sing
A heauenly sonnet to a siluer string,
Nor other sounds, but what confused heards
In pathles deserts make, or brooks, or Birds,
Should he heare Syms the sweet pandora touch
And loose his heareing, streight he would as much
Lament his knowledge, as doe I my chance,
And wish he still had liv'd in ignorance.
I am that Indian, and my soothing Dreames
In thirst haue brought me but to painted streames,
Which not allaye, but more increase desire.
A man, nere frozen with December's ire,
Hath from a heape of glowwormes as much ease,
As I can euer haue by such as these.
O leave me then! & strongest Memorie,
Keepe still with those that promise breakers be:
Goe! bid the Debtor mind his payment day,
Or helpe the ignorant-deuout to saye
Prayers they vnderstand not. Leade the Blynde,
And bid ingratefull wretches call to minde
Their Benefactors. And if vertue be
(As still she is) trod downe with miserie,
Shew her the Rich that they may free her want,
And leaue to nurse the fawning sycophant:
Or if thou seest faire honor careles lye
Without a Tombe, for after memorye,
Dwell by the graue, & teach all those that passe
To imitate, by shewing who it was.
Keepe still with those that promise breakers be:
Goe! bid the Debtor mind his payment day,
Or helpe the ignorant-deuout to saye
Prayers they vnderstand not. Leade the Blynde,
And bid ingratefull wretches call to minde
Their Benefactors. And if vertue be
(As still she is) trod downe with miserie,
Shew her the Rich that they may free her want,
And leaue to nurse the fawning sycophant:
352
Without a Tombe, for after memorye,
Dwell by the graue, & teach all those that passe
To imitate, by shewing who it was.
This way, remembrance, thou mayest doe some good,
And haue due thankes; but he that vnderstood
What throes thou bringst on me, would say I misse
The sleepe of him that did the pale moone kisse,
And that it were a blessing throwne on mee,
Somtimes to haue the hated Lethargie.
And haue due thankes; but he that vnderstood
What throes thou bringst on me, would say I misse
The sleepe of him that did the pale moone kisse,
And that it were a blessing throwne on mee,
Somtimes to haue the hated Lethargie.
Then, darke forgetfulnes, that onely art
The friend of Lunatiques, seize on that part
Of Memorie which nightly shewes her me,
Or suffer still her wakeing Fantasie,
Euen at the instant that I dreame of her,
To dreame the like of me, that we may err
In pleasures endles Maze without offence;
And both connex, as soules in Innocence.
The friend of Lunatiques, seize on that part
Of Memorie which nightly shewes her me,
Or suffer still her wakeing Fantasie,
Euen at the instant that I dreame of her,
To dreame the like of me, that we may err
In pleasures endles Maze without offence;
And both connex, as soules in Innocence.
LIDFORD JOURNEY.
I ofte haue heard of Lidford Lawe,
How in the Morne they hang & drawe,
And sitt in iudgment after:
At first I wonderd at it much;
But now I find their reason such,
That it deserues no laughter.
How in the Morne they hang & drawe,
And sitt in iudgment after:
At first I wonderd at it much;
But now I find their reason such,
That it deserues no laughter.
They haue a Castle on a hill;
I tooke it for an old Windmill,
The Vanes blowne of by weather;
Then lye therein one night, 'tis guessd,
'Tis better to be stond and prest,
Or hang'd, now chuse you whether.
I tooke it for an old Windmill,
The Vanes blowne of by weather;
Then lye therein one night, 'tis guessd,
'Tis better to be stond and prest,
Or hang'd, now chuse you whether.
353
Ten men lesse room wthin this Caue,
Then fiue Mice in a Lanthorne haue,
The Keepers they are sly ones:
If any could deuise by Art,
To gett it vpp into a Cart,
Twere fitt to carry Lyons.
Then fiue Mice in a Lanthorne haue,
The Keepers they are sly ones:
If any could deuise by Art,
To gett it vpp into a Cart,
Twere fitt to carry Lyons.
When I beheld it, Lord! thought I,
What Justice & what Clemency
Hath Lidford, when I spy all!
They know none there gladly would stay,
But rather hang out of the way,
Then tarry for the tryall.
What Justice & what Clemency
Hath Lidford, when I spy all!
They know none there gladly would stay,
But rather hang out of the way,
Then tarry for the tryall.
The Prince a hundred pounds hath sent,
To mend the leades & planthings rent,
Within this liuinge Tombe:
Some forty fiue pounds more had paide
The debts of all that shalbe layde
There 'till the day of Dome.
To mend the leades & planthings rent,
Within this liuinge Tombe:
Some forty fiue pounds more had paide
The debts of all that shalbe layde
There 'till the day of Dome.
One lyes there for a seame of Malt,
Another for three pecks of Salt,
Two Suretyes for a Noble;
If this be true, or else false newes,
You may goe aske of Mr Crewes,
John Vaughan, or John Doble.
Another for three pecks of Salt,
Two Suretyes for a Noble;
If this be true, or else false newes,
You may goe aske of Mr Crewes,
John Vaughan, or John Doble.
Neere to the men that lye in lurch,
There is a Bridge, there is a Church,
Seuen Ashes, & an Oake;
Three houses standing, and ten downe;
They say the Parson hath a Gowne,
But I saw nere a Cloake.
There is a Bridge, there is a Church,
Seuen Ashes, & an Oake;
Three houses standing, and ten downe;
They say the Parson hath a Gowne,
But I saw nere a Cloake.
354
Whereby you may consider well,
That plaine Simplicity doth dwell
At Lidford without brauery;
For in that towne, both yong & graue
Do loue the Naked truth, and have
No Cloakes to hide theyr knauerye.
That plaine Simplicity doth dwell
At Lidford without brauery;
For in that towne, both yong & graue
Do loue the Naked truth, and have
No Cloakes to hide theyr knauerye.
The people all, within this clyme,
Are frozen yn all Winter time,
Be sure I doe not faine;
And when the Summer is begun,
They lye like silkewormes in ye Sun,
And come to lyfe againe.
Are frozen yn all Winter time,
Be sure I doe not faine;
And when the Summer is begun,
They lye like silkewormes in ye Sun,
And come to lyfe againe.
One told me in King Cæsars tyme,
The towne was built of Stone & Lyme,
But sure the walls were Claye:
For they are falne, for ought I see,
And since the howses were got free,
The Towne is Run away.
The towne was built of Stone & Lyme,
But sure the walls were Claye:
For they are falne, for ought I see,
And since the howses were got free,
The Towne is Run away.
O Cæsar, if thou there didst Raigne,
Whilst one house stands, come there againe;
Come quickly, while there is One:
If thou but stay a little fitt,
But fiue yeares more, they may cōmitt
The whole Towne into Prison.
Whilst one house stands, come there againe;
Come quickly, while there is One:
If thou but stay a little fitt,
But fiue yeares more, they may cōmitt
The whole Towne into Prison.
To see it thus, much grieued was I,
The prouerbe says, Sorrow is dry;
So was I at this matter:
When by great chance, I know not how,
There thither came a strange strayde Cow,
And we had Milke and Water.
The prouerbe says, Sorrow is dry;
So was I at this matter:
When by great chance, I know not how,
There thither came a strange strayde Cow,
And we had Milke and Water.
355
Sure I belieue it then did rayne
A Cow or two from Charles his Wayne,
For none aliue did see
Such kynde of Creatures there before,
Nor shall from hence for euermore,
Saue Pris'ners, Geese, and we.
A Cow or two from Charles his Wayne,
For none aliue did see
Such kynde of Creatures there before,
Nor shall from hence for euermore,
Saue Pris'ners, Geese, and we.
To Nyne good Stomacks (with our Whigg)
At last we got a Tything Pigg;
This Dyet was our bounds:
And that was iust as if 'twere knowne,
One pound of Butter had byn throwne
Amongst a pack of Hounds.
At last we got a Tything Pigg;
This Dyet was our bounds:
And that was iust as if 'twere knowne,
One pound of Butter had byn throwne
Amongst a pack of Hounds.
One Glasse of Drinke I gott by Chance,
'Twas Clarett when yt was in France;
But now from that nought wyder:
I thinke a man might make as good
With Green Crabs, boyled with Brasil Wood,
And halfe a pynte of Syder.
'Twas Clarett when yt was in France;
But now from that nought wyder:
I thinke a man might make as good
With Green Crabs, boyled with Brasil Wood,
And halfe a pynte of Syder.
I kist the Mayors hand of the Towne,
Who though he weare no scarlett Gowne
Honors the ROSE & THISTLE:
A peece of Corrall to the Mace,
Which there I Saw to serue the place,
Would make a good Childes Whistle.
Who though he weare no scarlett Gowne
Honors the ROSE & THISTLE:
A peece of Corrall to the Mace,
Which there I Saw to serue the place,
Would make a good Childes Whistle.
At sixe a Clock I came away,
And prayde for those that were to stay,
Within a place so Arrant:
Wild and ope to windes that rore,
By Gods Grace Ile come there no more,
Vnlesse by Some Tin Warrant.
And prayde for those that were to stay,
Within a place so Arrant:
Wild and ope to windes that rore,
By Gods Grace Ile come there no more,
Vnlesse by Some Tin Warrant.
W. B.
356
[RELIGIOUS VERSES.]
Behold, O God, IN RIvers of my tearesI come to the: bow downe thy blessed eares
To heare me wretch, and let thine eyes (wth sleepe
Did neuer close) behold a Sinner weepe:
Let not, O God, My God, my faults though Great
And numberlesse, betw Ween thy mercyes Seat
And my poore soule be tHrown! since we are taught
Thou, Lord, Remember'st thyne, IF Thou be Sought.
I coME not, Lord, witH any o Ther meritt
Then What I by my SAviour Christ inheritt:
Be thEN his woundS my balm; his sTRIpes my blisse;
My crowne his Thornes; my deaTh be loSt in his.
And thOU, my blesT Redeemer, SAviour, God,
Quitt my AcCOMpts, withHold the vengefull rod.
O beg for ME! my hOpes on Thee are sett;
And ChriSt forgiVe, aswell as pay tHe debt.
The liviNg fount, the liFe, the waYe, I know,
And but To thee, O whither Should I goe?
All oTher helps aRe vaine: grantE thine to mee,
For in tHy Crosse my Sauing heaLth must bee.
O hearKen then whAt I with Faith implore,
Least Sin & Death sincke me for Evermore.
Lastly, O God, my wayes direct And guide;
In Death defeNd me, that I neuer slyde;
And at the dooME Let Me be raisd O then,
To liuE with theE; sweet JesVS, say Amen.
| The Whole Works of William Browne | |