Bosworth-field With a Taste of the Variety of Other Poems, Left by Sir John Beaumont ... Set Forth by his Sonne, Sir Iohn Beaumont |
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Avson. Idyll. 16.
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Avson. Idyll. 16.
A Man, both good and wise, whose perfect mindApollo cannot in a thousand find,
As his owne Iudge, himselfe exactly knowes,
Secure what Lords or vulgar brests suppose:
He, like the World, an equall roundnesse beares;
On his smooth sides no outward spot appeares:
He thinkes, how Cancers starre increaseth light;
How Capricornes cold Tropicke lengthens night,
And by iust scales will all his actions trie,
That nothing sinke too low, nor rise too high,
That corners may with euen parts incline,
And measures erre not with a faulty line,
That all within be solid, lest some blow
Should by the sound the empty vessell show,
Ere he to gentle sleepe his eyes will lay,
His thoughts reuolue the actions of the day,
What houres from me with dull neglect haue runne,
What was in time, or out of season done?
Why hath this worke, adorning-beauty lackt,
Or reason wanted in another fact?
What things haue I forgotten, why design'd
To seeke those ends, which better were declin'd,
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Why was my broken soule possest with griefe?
In what haue my mistaking wishes err'd,
Why profit more, then honesty preferr'd?
Could my sharpe words another man incense,
Or were my bookes compos'd to breed offence?
How comes it, that corrupted nature drawes
My will from disciplines amending lawes?
Thus going slowly through his words and deeds,
He from one eu'ning to the next proceeds:
Peruerting crimes he checkes with angry frownes,
Straight leuell'd Vertues he rewards with Crownes.
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