The works of Sr William Davenant ... Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed, and Those which he design'd for the Press: Now published Out of the Authors Originall Copies |
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To Mr. Benlowes, on his Divine Poem. |
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 | The works of Sr William Davenant |  |
To Mr. Benlowes, on his Divine Poem.
'Till now I guess'd, but blindly to what height,
The Muses Eagles could maintain their flight!
Though Poets are like Eaglets, bred to soar,
Gazing through Stars at Heav'ns Misterious Pow'r;
Yet I observe they quickly stoop to ease
Their Wings, and Pearch on Palace-Pinacles:
From thence more usefully they Courts discern;
The Schools where Greatness does Disguises learn;
The Stages where she acts to vulgar sight,
Those parts which States-men as her Poets writ;
Where none but those wise Poets may survay,
The private practice of her publick Play;
Where Kings, Gods Counterfeits, reach but the skill,
In study'd Scenes to act the Godhead ill:
Where Cowards, smiling in their Closets, breed
Those Wars which make the vain and furious bleed:
Where Beauty playes not meerly Natures part,
But is, like Pow'r, a Creature form'd by Art;
And, as at first, Pow'r by consent was made,
And those who form'd it, did themselves invade:
So harmless Beauty (which has now far more
Injurious force then States or Monarchs Pow'r)
Was by consent of Courts allow'd Arts ayd;
By which themselves they to her sway betray'd.
Twas Art, not Nature, taught excessive Pow'r;
Which whom it lists does favor or devour:
'Twas Art taught Beauty the Imperial skill,
Of ruling, not by Justice, but by Will.
And as successive Kings scarce seem to reign,
While lazily they Empires weight sustain;
Thinking because their Pow'r they Native call,
Therefore our duty too is Natural;
And by presuming that we ought obey,
They loose the craft and exercise of sway;
So when at Court a Native Beauty reigns,
O're Love's wilde Subjects, and Arts help disdaines;
When her presumptious sloath finds not why Art
In Pow'rs grave Play does act the longest part;
When like proud Gentry, she does level all
Industrious Arts with Arts mechanical;
And vaunts of small inheritance no less,
Then new States boast of purchas'd Provinces;
VVhilst she does ev'ry other Homage scorn,
But that to which by Nature she was born:
Thus when so heedlesly she Lovers swayes,
As scarce she findes her Pow'r ere it decayes;
VVhich is her Beauty, and which unsupply'd,
By what wise Art would carefully provide,
Is but Love's Light'ning, and does hardly last,
Till we can say it was, e're it be past;
Soon then, when Beautie's gone, she turns her face;
Asham'd of that which was e're while her Grace;
So, when a Monarch's gone, the Chair of State,
Is backward turn'd where he in Glory fate.
The Muses Eagles could maintain their flight!
Though Poets are like Eaglets, bred to soar,
Gazing through Stars at Heav'ns Misterious Pow'r;
323
Their Wings, and Pearch on Palace-Pinacles:
From thence more usefully they Courts discern;
The Schools where Greatness does Disguises learn;
The Stages where she acts to vulgar sight,
Those parts which States-men as her Poets writ;
Where none but those wise Poets may survay,
The private practice of her publick Play;
Where Kings, Gods Counterfeits, reach but the skill,
In study'd Scenes to act the Godhead ill:
Where Cowards, smiling in their Closets, breed
Those Wars which make the vain and furious bleed:
Where Beauty playes not meerly Natures part,
But is, like Pow'r, a Creature form'd by Art;
And, as at first, Pow'r by consent was made,
And those who form'd it, did themselves invade:
So harmless Beauty (which has now far more
Injurious force then States or Monarchs Pow'r)
Was by consent of Courts allow'd Arts ayd;
By which themselves they to her sway betray'd.
Twas Art, not Nature, taught excessive Pow'r;
Which whom it lists does favor or devour:
'Twas Art taught Beauty the Imperial skill,
Of ruling, not by Justice, but by Will.
And as successive Kings scarce seem to reign,
While lazily they Empires weight sustain;
Thinking because their Pow'r they Native call,
Therefore our duty too is Natural;
And by presuming that we ought obey,
They loose the craft and exercise of sway;
So when at Court a Native Beauty reigns,
O're Love's wilde Subjects, and Arts help disdaines;
When her presumptious sloath finds not why Art
In Pow'rs grave Play does act the longest part;
When like proud Gentry, she does level all
Industrious Arts with Arts mechanical;
And vaunts of small inheritance no less,
Then new States boast of purchas'd Provinces;
VVhilst she does ev'ry other Homage scorn,
But that to which by Nature she was born:
Thus when so heedlesly she Lovers swayes,
As scarce she findes her Pow'r ere it decayes;
VVhich is her Beauty, and which unsupply'd,
By what wise Art would carefully provide,
Is but Love's Light'ning, and does hardly last,
Till we can say it was, e're it be past;
Soon then, when Beautie's gone, she turns her face;
Asham'd of that which was e're while her Grace;
So, when a Monarch's gone, the Chair of State,
Is backward turn'd where he in Glory fate.
The secret Arts of Love and Pow'r; how these
Rule Courts, and how those Courts rule Provinces;
Have bin the task of ev'ry Noble Muse;
VVhose Ayd of old, nor Pow'r nor Love did use,
Meerly to make their lucky Conquests known,
(Though to the Muse they owe their first renown;
For she taught Time to speak, and ev'n to Fame,
VVho gives the great their Names, she gave a Name)
But they by studying Numbers rather knew,
To make those happy whom they did subdue.
Rule Courts, and how those Courts rule Provinces;
Have bin the task of ev'ry Noble Muse;
VVhose Ayd of old, nor Pow'r nor Love did use,
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(Though to the Muse they owe their first renown;
For she taught Time to speak, and ev'n to Fame,
VVho gives the great their Names, she gave a Name)
But they by studying Numbers rather knew,
To make those happy whom they did subdue.
Here let me shift my Sayles and higher bear
My Course then that which Moral Poets steer!
For now (best Poet) I Divine would be;
And only can be so by studying Thee.
Those whom thy Flights do lead shall pass no more,
Through dark'ning Clouds, when they to Heav'n would soar;
Nor in Ascent fear such excess of Light,
As rather frustrates then maintaines the Sight;
For thou dost clear Heav'ns darken'd Mysteries,
And make the Lustre safe to weakest Eies.
Noiseless, as Planets move, thy numbers flow,
And soft as Lovers whispers when they woo!
Thy labour'd Thoughts with ease thou dost dispence,
Clothing in Mayden Dress a Manly sence.
And as in narrow Room Elixir lies;
So in a little thou dost much comprise.
Here fix thy Pillars! which as Marks shall be,
How far the Soul in Heaven's Discov'ry
Can possibly advance; yet whilst they are
Thy Trophies, they but warrant our Despair:
For Humane Excellence hath this ill Fate,
That where it Vertue most does elevate,
It bears the blot of being singular;
And Envy blasts that Fame, it cannot share:
Ev'n good Examples may so great be made,
As to discourage whom they should perswade.
My Course then that which Moral Poets steer!
For now (best Poet) I Divine would be;
And only can be so by studying Thee.
Those whom thy Flights do lead shall pass no more,
Through dark'ning Clouds, when they to Heav'n would soar;
Nor in Ascent fear such excess of Light,
As rather frustrates then maintaines the Sight;
For thou dost clear Heav'ns darken'd Mysteries,
And make the Lustre safe to weakest Eies.
Noiseless, as Planets move, thy numbers flow,
And soft as Lovers whispers when they woo!
Thy labour'd Thoughts with ease thou dost dispence,
Clothing in Mayden Dress a Manly sence.
And as in narrow Room Elixir lies;
So in a little thou dost much comprise.
Here fix thy Pillars! which as Marks shall be,
How far the Soul in Heaven's Discov'ry
Can possibly advance; yet whilst they are
Thy Trophies, they but warrant our Despair:
For Humane Excellence hath this ill Fate,
That where it Vertue most does elevate,
It bears the blot of being singular;
And Envy blasts that Fame, it cannot share:
Ev'n good Examples may so great be made,
As to discourage whom they should perswade.
| The works of Sr William Davenant | |