Petrarchs seven penitentiall psalms paraphrastically translated: With other Philosophicall Poems, and a Hymne to Christ vpon the Crosse. Written by George Chapman |
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Of Friendship.
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 | Petrarchs seven penitentiall psalms |  |
Of Friendship.
Now I am old, my old friends loues I wish,As I am good; & more old, grow more fresh.
Friends constant, not like lakes are standing euer,
But like sweete streames, euer the same, yet neuer
Still profiting themselues, and perfecting.
And as a riuer furthest from his spring,
Takes vertue of his course, and all the way
Greater and greater growes, till with the sea
He combats for his empire, and gets in,
Curling his billowes, till his stile he win:
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Increase of goodnesse; such men make thy friends.
Such nobler are, the poorer was their source;
And though wt crooks & turns, yet keep their course,
Though till their strength, they did some weaknesse show,
(All thankes to God yet) now it is not so.
Will is the garden first, then Knowledge plants;
Who knowes and wils well, neuer vertue wants:
Though oft he faile in good, he nought neglects;
The affect, not the effect, God respects.
But as the Academickes euer rate
A man for learning, with that estimate
They made of him, when in the schooles he liu'd;
And how so ere he scatter'd since, or thriu'd,
Still they esteeme him as they held him then:
So fares it with the doomes of vulgar men;
If once they knew a man defectiue, still
The staine stickes by him; better he his skill,
His life and parts, till quite refin'd from him
He was at first; good drownes, ill still doth swim:
Best men are long in making: he that soone
Sparkles and flourishes, as soone is gone.
A wretched thing it is, when nature giues
A man good gifts, that still the more he liues,
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(Much lesse esteem'd) is long before he can
The passage cleare, betwixt his soule and sense,
And of his body gaine such eminence,
That all his organs open are, and fit
To serue their Empresse. Th' other man of wit,
At first is seru'd with all those instruments:
Open they are, and full, and free euents
All he can thinke obtaines, and forth there flies
Flashes from him, thicke as the Meteord skies,
Like which he lookes, and vp drawes all mens eies,
Euen to amaze: yet like those Meteors,
(Onely in ayre imprest) away he soares,
His organs shut: and twixt his life and soule,
Sue a diuorce aliue. Such ne're enroule
In thy brasse booke of Friendship: such are made
To please light spirits, not to grow but fade.
Nor friends for old acquaintance chuse, but faith,
Discretion, good life, and contempt of death:
That foes wrongs beare with Christian patience,
Against which fighting, Reason hath no fence:
That lay their fingers on their lips the more,
The more their wrong'd simplicities deplore,
And stop their mouthes to euery enemies ill,
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And onely good men friends are: make no friend
Of fleshie-beast-men, friendship's of the mind.
| Petrarchs seven penitentiall psalms | |