Miscellaneous works of George Wither

After a due preoccupation,
It offers to commemoration,
Particulars: Insists upon
A rarely memorable one.
Illustrating a matchles friend;
And, so, this Canto hath an end.

The foll'wing evening, after I had heard
That verifide, whereof I was afeard
The night before, I, then afresh inspir'd,
To give my Musings utterance, retir'd:
And, that no interruptions I might find,
Put all my own concernments, out of mind:
For, he, that honestly one work, would do,
Must not, the same time, be imploy'd on two.

But, on the paper, ere I fixt my pen,
Such things, as possibly by other men
Might be objected, question'd, or alleadg'd,
To hinder that, wherein I was ingag'd,
Rush'd in upon me; and, delaies, had wrought,
Had I not on a sudden kickt them out;
And given some of them, (ere they would go;)
A reasonable civell answer too.

Among the rest, One (who scarce went away
Well satisfide with ought that I could say)
Thus question'd me: Art thou become so vain,
To think, by charmes, and words to raise again
The dead to life; or, to preserve the Name
Of friends deceased, by surviving Fame,
Among this Generation, wherein none
Or few, regard what shall be said, or done,
To that effect? Canst thou have hope to bring
By poesie (which an unhallowed thing,
Is now accounted) any due respect
To him, whose memory thou dost affect?
Or, think that thou maist dignifie his Herse,
By such a despicable thing, as verse?
Canst thou hope this, when he that versifies,
Seems but a coyner, of facetious Lies?
When lovers of the muses, are so scanty,
That, there are hardly two, in five times twenty,
Who, if thy Poem serious be, will heed it;
Or, (if they will) that have the wit to read it,
More gracefully, then if an Asse should play
Upon a Harp, or to the Viol bray?
For, neither heeding accents, points, or time,
They, only make a clinking on the Rime.
More harshly grating on juditious ears,
Then scraping trenchers, which none gladly hears?
And, what, of all thy musings, have th'effects
Been hitherto, but troubles, and neglects?

This being urg'd, I, thereto made reply
Thus, in my self: Admit all this, quoth I:
Mo wiseman fears to do, what should be done
Through dread of that which may mis-fall thereon:
Nor, so much cares, what may thereof be thought,
As to be always doing, as he ought.
It is the Muses duty, to be there
Most active, where, most Difficulties are;
And, most couragiously, there to advance
Their Standards, where appears most Ignorance;
That to succeeding Ages they may leave
Those things, which present times, will not receive.
It is a portion, whereto they were born
To be exposed to contempt and scorn;
And, tis their honour, to have wisely dar'd
Just things, for which, the world gives no reward.

Though Poets are despis'd, and, will yet more
Contemned be, (and thrust behind the doore)
As Ignorance gets ground; and, as the Base
Shall rise, to sit in honourable place;
There was a time, when Princes did contend
In Poetry, and Poets to befriend;
And, when the one shall consecrate his Muse,
True Piety, and Virtue to infuse;
And, men in power, by Righteousness maintain
Their dignity, it shall be so again.

The Muses, in times past, so awfull were
That, they made Kings to fawn, and Tyrants fear.
The Vulgar, they made Hero's; Hero's GODS:
Drew Trees and Beasts, out of the salvage woods,
To follow them: That is, they drew together
Blockish and bruitish men (as rude as either
Wild Plants, or Beasts, and them allur'd unto
What reasonable creatures ought to do.
Their Charm threw down the vicious to that hell,
Where everlasting Infamy doth dwell.

Rais'd up the well deservers from the Grave,
The life of never dying fame to have,
Yea, by their charms they have expel'd the devill,
The furious, and the melancholy evill.

And, not alone in former Generations,
Among the learned, and most civill Nations,
Had Poesie esteem, and good effects,
In spight of envy, malice, and neglects.
But, also, here, and lately some have lived
Who, by their musings, honour have received.
And been enabled, by their inspirations,
To vindicate the Muses reputations.
Yea, (in his measure) ev'n the barbarous Bard,
Is of his, people, so belov'd, or fear'd;
That, whom so'ere he pleases (by his rimes)
He makes to be the minion of the times
Within his Orb: And, they among us here,
Who of this faculty the masters are
(As to the language) can th'affections raise,
And move the Readers passions various wayes,
By their composures; though they do abuse
His gift, who did that faculty infuse;
As I myself have done, till he that gave it,
Inform'd me better, to what end I have it.

Then, why, with confidency may not I,
Hope by the help of sacred poesie,
So to embalm my Friend, by that perfume
(Which fluently will by extraction come
From his own vertues) that, a sweet breath'd fame,
Disfused from the Orders of his Name,
May draw some after him? and make them grow
In love, with what doth from those Orders flow?
And, thereby wooe them to an imitation
Of him, and to a virtuous emulation?

If David, in an fun'rall song preserved,
The memory of that, which well deserved,

In wicked Saul his foe; why may not I
Seek to preserve a good mans memory?
Why may not I with warranty commend
The matchles love of my deceased Friend?
Why may not I, as fully as I can
Illustrate my beloved Jonathan?

If, also, they, whose poesie affords
Little save empty shews, and swelling words,
Forc'd Metaphors, and frothy strains of wit,
(Which on the fancy, ticklings do beget)
Perused are with some effect that's good,
And, are most pleasing, when least understood)
Why may not I, be read by two, or three,
With more advantage both to them, and me,
Then, by a thousand, that are pleas'd with chaff,
And, at my plain expressions jeer, and laugh.

Why may not I, who have advantages,
Of truth, and real merits (which helps, these
Impostures had not) trophies hope to Rear
That shall more lasting, and more fair appear
Then such as they build, who composures fain
Out of the durty notions of their brain,
Or, from the vapours, that strong drink infuses,
To dignifie the subject of their muses?
Why may not I, this faculty imploy,
To build up that, which others do destroy,
By their abusing it? and, hope thereby
So to repreeve it from that Obliquie,
Which now it suffers, that, the best of men,
May fall in love with poesie agen,
And, not (as now they do) avert their eyes,
As if asham'd of him that versifies?
For, this is part, whereto my Poems tend
Though, peradventure, I may miss my end.

Let it not therefore, seem a prophanation
Of Piety, unto this Generation,

That, I adventure to redeem from blame
The gift, by some employed to their shame;
Since, it was first confer'd on each receiver,
To raise up his own spirit, to the giver;
And, then, to rouse up other mens affections,
From carnal, popular, and vain dejections?
Or that, to take my Reader, by the ear,
I lay among my verses, here and there,
Some hooks, with reason baited, which, sometime,
Doth catch those who expected nought but rime.

Nor, let this, (though a long preoccupation)
Seem to be needless, or a vain digression;
For, though it nothing adds, to my intents,
The taking somewhat from them, it prevents;
Which being done, ile now proceed to that
Whereof, I purpose, further to relate.

The subject of my Musings, being large
Tis not within my graspings, to discharge
What's thereto due; nor can it be confin'd,
Within that compasse, which I have design'd,
To tell you therefore, fully, what he was,
Or, what he was not, would so far surpasse,
This limit, that I only must expresse
So much as may enable you to guesse
At what remains untold, (though it be more
Then here ensues, or hath been said before)
And that I may, his inside lay to view
Which I much better, then his outside knew.

He was a Man, indowed with no lesse
Of piety, then moral Righteousnes;
And in the practising of both, so harty
That, to the honest, and the godly party;
(As call'd some are) he brought a supplement,
Of reall worth, as well as Ornament;

And aim'd at that reward, for which he ran,
Not in the outward, but the inward-Man.

From youths extravagancies, which (as he
Hath oft confessed) he once thought to be
Th'accomplishments of Gentry, without which
They had in vain, been nobly born, or rich,
From these (ev'n when he most indanger'd seem'd)
He was by GODS especiall grace redeemd,
(And brought off, by his providentiall hand)
In seasonable time; even as a brand
Snatchd from the fire. For, those commodious places,
Prepared for the Muses, and the Graces,
To coinhabite in, for education,
Of youth in knowledge; and to keep this Nation
From Barbarisme; Places, were become
So fraught with Vices, and so perilsome,
To soul and body, that, he was almost
By ill examples, and lewd consorts, lost.
For which a threatning vengeance hangeth over
Those Seats, that will admit of no Remover
Of what is menaced, till their Foundation
Is rooted up, or saved by purgation.

With what prevarications, he, was there
Impoyson'd, and what principles they were
Whereby he was indangerd, he to us
Rendr'd as banefull, and ridiculous
As words could make them; that, it might advance
GOD'S grace vouchsafd, for his deliverance;
And make them useful, unto those who heard
What he was saved from, and what was fear'd.

He was among the first, whose knowing zeal,
Flamd out, to vindicate this common-weal
From thraldom and oppression; thereto moved
In conscience, and by principles approved.
Not stirred up, by factious discontent,
By rashness, want, or by malevolent

Affections, or Designs, though not without
Some counterpleas, in what he went about:
For, in immergencies, which do relate
To private conscience, and Affairs of State,
The wisest man, his resolution brings
To settlement, by various combatings.

With him, thus far'd it: Then he to withstand
The publick Fo, was honor'd with Command;
Wherein, he ventur'd not his life alone,
Without that profit, which by many a one
Was aim'd at, and enjoy'd) but lent, and gave,
And, wasted his Estate, to gard, and save
The Publique Interest, without a prayre
Exhibited, or temporall repair.

Unsought for, (as I verily beleeve)
He, afterward, the honor did receive
Of supream trust; and, without cause of blame,
According to his powre, discharg'd the same;
The speaking, of no needfull truth forbearing;
The powre, or presence, of no person fearing;
Swaid not by hatred, neither by affection,
To others; nor by that which had reflection
Upon himself: But, freely said his mind,
And conscience, as he did occasions find,
In whatsoever matter was debated;
Whether the thing propos'd, to GOD related,
Or Common-wealth: if they who present were,
(As I beleeve they did) the truth aver.

And, if it so did happen that, sometime
A tender pity, did prevail with him
To plead for mercy, on behalf of some
Made liable, by law unto the doom
Of mulct, or death; the same he never prest
Ought further, then the Publique Interest,
With safety might allow it: And altho,
He felt what other men are moov'd unto,

By naturall Affections, he did still
Conform his Judgment, and confine his will
To Justice: And, this, rather doth increase
His honour, then appear to make it less.

And, though the Author, of the History
Of Independents, hath injuriously
(Among his other Leazings) added him
Unto his lying Catalogue, of them
Who, to the damage of the common-weal,
By their Commands, Gifts, Offices, or spoil,
Inriched, and aloft advanced be.
From poore estates, and from a low degree;
On him, that sticks not, but, reflects disgrace
Apparently, upon that Liers face.

For, to all those, who knew him, tis well known,
That, with a large estate, by birth his own,
He was indow'd. His Mother, yet, in Kent,
Survives; a Lady, rarely eminent
For Charity, and for a open doore,
To such as are in misery, and poore.
And, as he no way needed to inlarge
His portion, or the Common-wealth to charge
By such supplies, as others have desired
(And often surreptitiously acquired)
So, he was all his life, so far from craving,
From wishing, from receiving, and from having
Gift, place, or office, whereby he might add
An augmentation, unto what he had,
That, many whom the Common miseries
Had begger'd, and whose publick services,
And wants he saw neglected, he reliev'd
Out of his own estate; and them repriev'd.
From ruining, when helper they had none:
Among which number, I my self, was one.

And, that, which in this kind he lent or gave
Was meant (as I beleeve) as well to save

The Nations honour, as to do a deed
Of simple Charity, in time of need:
For, he preferr'd, the Publick Faith before
His private Credit; and, did so abhor
Their Avarice, who by a mutual Giving,
Forgiving, and unseasonably relieving,
Obstructed those performances, whereby
Our deep Ingagements did neglected lye;
That, to prevent it, he thought fit to scatter
A portion of his bread upon the water
Lest after private miseries, things worse
Ensude; a nationall a public curse.

Then, those large Legacies, which he in death
To Charitable uses, did bequeath,
(Consider'd, with his frequent bounteous giving,
To such as were distrest whil'st he was living),
Do make it, without question evident
That he, both had enough, and such content
With what he had, that, he upon his score
Leaves nothing, that shall make his Children poor
As they will do, who gave and took the bread,
Wherewith the Fatherless should have been fed;
And, have, with what their Servants blood did buy,
Inlarg'd their Fields, and rais'd their houses high.

But, I to little purpose thus go on
To set my candle up before the Sun.
They who had eyes to see it did behold,
And knew as much before, as I have told.
They, who by wilfulnes, dark-sighted be
Set up what light we can, will never see.
Now, some of you, (it may be) will suppose
That my conjectures only, I disclose;
Or that a knowledge of such things I sain
Which to his private actings do pertain;
Or, take them up on Trust. If, so, they think,
So, let it be; I will not strive to sink

A milstone in a shallow dish of water;
Or seek to fill a viol, with such matter,
As it admits not. Things, which must be known
As well by others eyes, as by my own
To make them certain; Ile no further mention,
Without proof it seem a self invention
That, which hath passed 'twixt us two alone;
Those things, whereof my knowledg can by none
Be doubted of) to mind I will recall;
And, out of many, bring forth one for all;
One, that shall set forth his deserving more
Then all that I have mentioned before;
(At lest according to that excellence
Which suits a sensuall Intelligence)
And, when with that expression I have done,
Ile rather leave it to be thought upon,
Then imitated; till self-love begins
To loose that ground, which hitherto it wins.

He, that is really a faithfull friend,
Hath that, which doth within it comprehend
All morall vertues; yea, and therewith too
That charity, which from true Faith doth flow:
For, such a person cannot be alone
(In being so) a faithfull friend to ONE;
But also to all others yea, extends
His love to all GODS creatures, as his friends:
And, doubtles, far above all those, to him,
Who, for himself alone created them.

This vertue therefore, doth on men confer
The highest excellence they can have here;
And, this rare vertue, (whereof, I, the Sound
Had vainly heard before) in him, I found
And thereof, such experiment will give
That, you shall think of him, as I beleeve;
And that in charity, he did out go
Most men, who thereof, make the greatest show.

That, you may know him; whom I knew so well,
My means of knowing him, thus, first ile tell.
The late intestine Wars, which with a flood,
Of miseries, and with a sea of blood
Ore flow'd these Nations, like a raging torrent
(Which bears down all with an impetuous current),
Brake in, ev'n at first rising, where then lay
My chief Estate, and swept it all away;
That, little thereof, which elsewhere was left,
Was also, by th'Oppressors hand bereft,
Save only some small part of my Estate,
Consisting in rings, housholdstuff, and plate,
Which being portable, preserved were,
Or got together, by my future care.

That, which expos'd my portion to the raging,
Of my destroyers, was, a free ingaging
Against the common foe: And, they, with whom
I, for the Publique, did ingag'd become,
Gave me the Publique Faith, that what I lost
Should be repaired at the publique cost;
And, that my Children, should be look'd upon
With favour, and regard, when I was gone.

By these incouragements I did pursue
Their services, untill I neither knew
Which way my present wants, might have supply,
Or whereon, for the future to rely;
And then, perforce, tetreated for recruit,
To prosecute the Cause with fresh pursuit;
Whereof I got some few effects in show,
Which in the substance, prov'd not to be so.
But rather brought, much greater mischiefs on me,
Then all my open enemies had done me.

For, some who had but fainedly pretended,
To that, which I had seriously defended;
Perceiving, me, preparing to disclose
Their falshood, did become my open Foes;

And through their complices (who by the hand
Of Providence were weeded from the Land,
Soon after) they so wrought, that Innocence
And Faithfulness were judged an offence,
Maugre apparent proofs and demonstrations
Yet extant, by their own examinations:
So, I was finde, confinde, and on my head
That censure lay'd, which they had merited
With seven fold more; and for my service past
Into disgrace, was innocently cast,
With nothing for subsistence, but, that poore
House-furniture, which was within my doore.

To add more burthen to those heavy weights,
And drive me, thereby, into greater streights;
My Friends, and my Acquaintance, then began
To look upon me as a faulty man
Who had deceiv'd their hope: so that, if they
Who (though too few to help me) day by day
Were at my trial, had not seen and heard
Th'injustice done me, and the same declar'd;
I had, in likelihood, ere this day, ended
My life in want; disgrac'd, and unbefriended.

For, as my Friends fell off, my Foes fell on
With fresh pursute of what they had begun,
And had not GOD in an unlook'd for houre
Deprived them of their abused powre,
They had destroy'd me quite. But, I, at last
Escap'd; and they into the pit were cast.
Mean while, they insolently domineer'd,
Made songs and pamphlets on me; scoft and jeer'd,
And had so villifide my Reputation
To those who represented, then, this Nation,
That, of four thousand pounds (to which account
My due (prov'd fully) truly did amount)
I could not get one penny for relief
Of me, or mine, to mittigate our grief;

Though, I had forced words into their ears,
Which from by standers, oft, extracted tears;
And, to compassion, might that Judg have wan
Who neither feared GOD, nor car'd for man.

To add yet further, to my great afflictions,
GOD, with a sicknes, (spreading forth infections)
Visits my house, and drove all those from thence,
Who were some comfort in my indigence,
That, being shut up, and excluded from
All other helpers, I, to him might come.
My children were all sick of that disease;
Their single keeper, to her little ease,
Was their sad Mother, whilst (as sad as she)
I, sought, whereby they might supported be.
And we, who served were, a while before
With sixteen household servants, (sometimes more)
Had then, but one Boy (who, sick also lay)
And one poor woman, hired by the day.

To pay, and feed those, I my plate had sold:
My Wife, the Silver, and the lace of gold
Which lately trim'd her Garmnts, ript away;
To buy things needfull, for the present day:
Her Ornaments she chang'd for bread, to eat:
Then, sold the dishes, which did hold our meat:
And last of all, our highest valued things,
The pretious stones, the jewels, and the rings,
To us, from honorable Persons sent,
As tokens of respect (the same way went.
And what was left, ill spar'd though it could be)
To follow, for ought I then could see,
Only this hope remain'd, that GOD had sent
A sicknes, which by death, would wants prevent;
Or, give us by his own hand, some repair:
For, of his love, I, never shall despair,

In this good hope, the Worlds neglect I scorn'd,
And my petitions, into prayers turn'd,

Directed unto him; who only knew
My wants, and what was likely to ensue.
But, he likewise, to answer me delaid;
And for a while seem'd deaf to what I pray'd:
Yet knowing not, what els remain'd to do,
Or whether, or to whom, for help to go;
Nor caring (if GOD left me) for supplies
From other hands; I still renew'd my cries
To him alone, and suddenly was cheer'd
With somewhat, which to sence no where appear'd.

And, as a Lover, thinking (in a dream)
He hears his best Beloued calling him,
Starts up in hast, and runneth out to meet
The voice that cals him, ere he find his feet,
And goes he knows not whether: So, with me
It far'd, who (hoping not deceiv'd to be)
Walk'd forth to see, if providence divine,
Would bring to sight, or mind, some Friend of mine,
Or his, from whom, I might that ayd receive
Which to obtain from GOD, I did beleeve.

And, mark his goodnes, Oh! all you that read it!
So mark it, and with seriousnes so heed it
That, (if I should forget it) you may be
Remembrancers, hereafter unto me
As I have been to you, in former time,
Of what concerns this Nation, and this Clime,
In this distresse, he, meets me, of whom here
I am discoursing; And with pleasing chear
Salutes me thus: Amid thy troubles now
How is it with thee George? how farest thou?
I, answer'd, SIR, I live, though I am poore;
And, of my welfare, cannot say much more.
Take heart said he; These dayes will have an end,
And future times will better thee befriend.
I sought thee at thy house, not with intent
To trifle out an hour in complement

But, lovingly brought thither, by a fear
Lest more lay on thee, then thou well mighst bear.

For, thy Petitions I, have heard, and seen,
Of those transactions I have witnes been,
Whereby thou, wert oppressed; and wherein
Thy Country hath no lesse abused been.
I, also publickly have heard debated
Thy claims, and when they were allow'd, and stated;
Saw what was justly, or unjustly done;
And am assured GOD will look thereon
Yea, I have so well heeded what thou hast
Both lately and in former time exprest
For GOD, and also for thy Countries sake,
Whereof ensuing times will notice take
That, I, myself to be obliged, thought
To seek thy welfare; and from GOD have brought
This token of his love: thus having said,
Just twenty pounds into my hand he laid
Of currant gold; whereat (as one amaz'd)
On him with overflowing eyes I gaz'd;
Not able, for the present, to afford
The retribution of one thank full word.
For, out of me, my heart away was gone
To GOD, who made him do, what he had done.

But, after recollection, SIR, said I,
He that hath mov'd you, to this charity
Will doubtlesly with interest repay
What you have ministred to me this day;
For, GOD himself alone, and none but he
(Who knows in what distresses all men be)
Could, you, to me so timely have directed
Opprest with wants, and of all friends neglected:
Or, so inlarg'd your heart, to bring relief
Proportionable to my present grief.

And, therefore, now il'e tell you, in what state
You find me, that you may rejoyce thereat,
By making you assur'd, that you have wrought
A work, which in it self rewards hath brought
That will requite it fully, though I liv'd,
To let slip out of mind, what I receiv'd.
Then, told him all, that is before exprest,
And so much more as did infer the rest
That might have follow'd, if GOD had not sent
His charity, my ruine to prevent.

The same impression, which his Act had made
On me, my words on him, effected had;
And, I am confident, that, had I given
To him, the greatest gift, on this side Heav'n,
He had not gone away, with more content
Then, in his being made an instrument,
Of such a timely mercy; and, that he
So opportunely too, should meet with me.

Now judg, if this be true, which I protest
(Except the words, wherein it is exprest,
And, some few circumstances, to supply
The story, with a formal decency,)
Is real truth; and no poetick strain,
More adding, then the Essence did contain.
Judg now, what, I, could honestly have lesse
Hereof declar'd, then here I do expresse,
Consid'ring what he was to me, till then;
And, what I was to many other men.

For, at their dore, for whom I had of late,
My life adventur'd, lost my whole Estate;
(And those expos'd, who were more dear to me
Then life, and livelyhood, destroy'd to be)
Ev'n at their dore, I, perishing was left
Of credit, and Estate, at once bereft:
To let me thereby know, and knowing, heed,
That in the times of triall, and of need,

Tis none of those Acquaintance, or those Friends,
Which we our selves get, or whose love attends
On our Prosperities; nor that, which we
Think, obligations, upon them to be;
Nor, publick Faith, nor Vows, nor Protestations,
Either of Princes, Parliaments or Nations;
Nor that which is, nor that, which we suppose
A merit in Us, (or, for Virtue goes)
Which, for helps, are to be relide upon,
In great extremities; But, GOD, alone,
And, that, in our Desertions, he, can make
Not only, strangers, pity on us take;
But, also, from the malice of our Foes,
Raise us up help, salve mortall wounds, by blows;
Cure us by sickness; make us rich, by losses;
Give us true joy, in grief; Content, in Crosses;
A life, by dying; and the first beginning
Of justifying righteousness, by sinning:
Yea, by the hiding (for a time) his Face,
Assurances of everlasting grace:
And to confirm my oft experiment
Hereof; GOD, made this Friend an Instrument,
To give me, of that mercy, one pledg more,
Of which, he gave me many, heretofore.

And yet, this is not all; for, ere those weights
Which lay upon me; and the many streights,
Then pressing me, removed were and past,
(Which, some yeers, and some months to boot, did last)
In times of like need, he continued on
That work of mercy, thus by him began;
Till, in this manner, he upon his score,
Had set me, twenty hundred Crowns, and more,
Without desiring Band, or Bill, or Note,
To testifie the lending of one groat;
Or urging me, betwixt our selves, to say
I ow'd him ought, or that I would repay.

Thus much for this time: For, tis cold, and late;
And, that you may have time to ruminate
On what is said; ile now break off, and borrow
An hour or two, from my affairs to morrow,
So much, of what remaineth, to recite
As seemeth pertinent: And so, good night.

University of Virginia Library

CANTO the second.