The poems of George Daniel ... From the original mss. in the British Museum: Hitherto unprinted. Edited, with introduction, notes, and illustrations, portrait, &c. By the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart: In four volumes |
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 | Chap. xxxi. The poems of George Daniel |  |
XXXI. Chap. xxxi.
Insatiate Avarice makes thy bodie faint,
Disturbs thy Mind, ev'n to the greatest want
Of humane being, Sleep; his dreams are broke
With soudain ffears, like to Distemper'd folke.
The Rich Man's Industrie is to get more,
And sees his labours prosper in his store;
The poor Man labours too, but to Subsist,
And when he leaves, his state is not encreast.
Disturbs thy Mind, ev'n to the greatest want
Of humane being, Sleep; his dreams are broke
With soudain ffears, like to Distemper'd folke.
The Rich Man's Industrie is to get more,
And sees his labours prosper in his store;
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And when he leaves, his state is not encreast.
He is not Iust who doth his Gold admire,
And he who seekes to sate his owne desire
In transitorie Ends, and doth attend
Corrupted dross, shall, as he seeketh, find.
And he who seekes to sate his owne desire
In transitorie Ends, and doth attend
Corrupted dross, shall, as he seeketh, find.
Many have fallen to Death in Avarice,
Tane by the Shine of Gold, with ravish't Eyes:
It is a block, Mortalls may fall before it,
Fall to the Death; & ever ffooles adore it.
Tane by the Shine of Gold, with ravish't Eyes:
It is a block, Mortalls may fall before it,
Fall to the Death; & ever ffooles adore it.
Blesséd is he whose wealth is not his Sin,
Whose Actions blameless are, who ha's not bin
Slavéd by lucre, nor affiéd his Rest
In Gold, or any thing which he Possest.
Whose Actions blameless are, who ha's not bin
Slavéd by lucre, nor affiéd his Rest
In Gold, or any thing which he Possest.
Who, who is he? wee will empaile his Browes
With Chaplets, & his Name shall be to vs
A Memorie for ever; he hath beene
A Glorie, more then Time hath ever seene;
Who has beene tryed, who has the exact scale
Of Iustice provéd, and he noe way faile!
But he a patterne, who has curb'd his will
When he had power; who good, might have been ill!
He shall be fixt in an inheritance,
And have the gen'rall vote of Excellence.
With Chaplets, & his Name shall be to vs
A Memorie for ever; he hath beene
A Glorie, more then Time hath ever seene;
Who has beene tryed, who has the exact scale
Of Iustice provéd, and he noe way faile!
But he a patterne, who has curb'd his will
When he had power; who good, might have been ill!
He shall be fixt in an inheritance,
And have the gen'rall vote of Excellence.
Art thou a gvest at the luxurious board
Of some quaint Epicure? with Dainties stor'd.
Breath not vpon it with the least delight,
Nor Say, fix here, Voluptuous Appetite!
Know then a naughty Eye can nothing be
Worse, it shall weep what ever thing it see;
Let not thy rambling Eye direct thy hand
To take the Dish, if it at distance stand;
Thinke he observes it by thee, he, the next,
On thy right hand, as all the rest are fixt;
Eate Soberly, & moderate thy Sence,
To civill breeding; make it noe pretence,
Another's gluttonie, to thy Excesse;
Nor let thy hand 'fore others, rudely presse.
Of some quaint Epicure? with Dainties stor'd.
Breath not vpon it with the least delight,
Nor Say, fix here, Voluptuous Appetite!
Know then a naughty Eye can nothing be
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Let not thy rambling Eye direct thy hand
To take the Dish, if it at distance stand;
Thinke he observes it by thee, he, the next,
On thy right hand, as all the rest are fixt;
Eate Soberly, & moderate thy Sence,
To civill breeding; make it noe pretence,
Another's gluttonie, to thy Excesse;
Nor let thy hand 'fore others, rudely presse.
How little! ah, how little, might suffice,
(And to more Sanitie) the Sober wise!
Noe noisome fumes, the fruites of Surfetting,
Shall rise t' offend thy Sence, nor paine shall wring
His Gutts or Stomach; he shall find his sleep
Blesst, in the Rule his temperance did keep;
He rises, when the shades of night are gon,
And finds himselfe in disposition;
But to the Glutton, Sleeps are never long,
His Stomach rageth, & his Gutts are wrong.
(And to more Sanitie) the Sober wise!
Noe noisome fumes, the fruites of Surfetting,
Shall rise t' offend thy Sence, nor paine shall wring
His Gutts or Stomach; he shall find his sleep
Blesst, in the Rule his temperance did keep;
He rises, when the shades of night are gon,
And finds himselfe in disposition;
But to the Glutton, Sleeps are never long,
His Stomach rageth, & his Gutts are wrong.
If th' art compell'd to Eate, & Eate beyond
Sobrietie, rise, vomit, if thou find
Thy selfe or'e-charg'd, then find a place to Sleep;
This, from diseases, shall thy Bodie keep.
Sobrietie, rise, vomit, if thou find
Thy selfe or'e-charg'd, then find a place to Sleep;
This, from diseases, shall thy Bodie keep.
My Son, doe not reiect what I shall now
Speake, & one day thou shalt my councells know,
Of profitable vse; let thy workes bee
Done with a Quicknes, to keep Sanitie.
The hospitable Man shall have a praise
From everie Tongue, to bless him in his Daies;
Not soe the Niggard, he shall have his Name
Curséd, & to the world survive with Shame.
Strive not in Wine for worthles victorye,
For many soe have fal'n to Miserye;
The forge doth prove the temper of the Steele,
Soe Wine to Excess, his secrets doth reveale.
Speake, & one day thou shalt my councells know,
Of profitable vse; let thy workes bee
Done with a Quicknes, to keep Sanitie.
The hospitable Man shall have a praise
From everie Tongue, to bless him in his Daies;
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Curséd, & to the world survive with Shame.
Strive not in Wine for worthles victorye,
For many soe have fal'n to Miserye;
The forge doth prove the temper of the Steele,
Soe Wine to Excess, his secrets doth reveale.
Wine taken Soberly doth adde to health;
And as from first ordain'd, (not for the filth
Of luxurie) exempts the hart from care,
Brings an alacritie of Soule, a rare
And purgéd ffancie; doth inspire a strong
And active Genius, gives the falt'ring Tongue
A Cleare Expression, & doth breath a flame
To inrich Stupiditie, & create a Name.
And as from first ordain'd, (not for the filth
Of luxurie) exempts the hart from care,
Brings an alacritie of Soule, a rare
And purgéd ffancie; doth inspire a strong
And active Genius, gives the falt'ring Tongue
A Cleare Expression, & doth breath a flame
To inrich Stupiditie, & create a Name.
But to Excess, what horrid Crimes attend!
Loud Execrations, Quarrells, & doth lend
Sometimes, an vncouth valour; wch may bring
A late repentance, in the suffering.
Loud Execrations, Quarrells, & doth lend
Sometimes, an vncouth valour; wch may bring
A late repentance, in the suffering.
Differ not with thy freind, hott in his Wine,
Neither deride his Mirth; if he encline
To follie, blame him not, nor Itterate
Harsh language to encrease & stirre debate.
Neither deride his Mirth; if he encline
To follie, blame him not, nor Itterate
Harsh language to encrease & stirre debate.
| Chap. xxxi. The poems of George Daniel | |