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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 Endimion Porter.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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To Endimion Porter.

I gave when last I was about to die;
The Poets of this Isle a Legacie;
Each so much wealth, as a long union brings
T' industrious States, or Victorie to Kings:
So much as hope's clos'd Eies, could wish to see,
Or tall Ambition reach; I gave them thee.
But as rich Men, who in their sickness mourne
That they must go, and never more returne,
To be glad Heirs unto themselves, to take
Again, what they unwillingly forsake;
As those bequeath, their treasure, when they dye,
Not out of love, but sad necessity;
So I (they thought) did cunningly resigne
Rather then give, what could no more be mine:
And they receiv'd thee not, from bounteous chance,
Or me, but as their own inheritance.
This, when I heard, I cancell'd my fond Will;
Tempted my faith to my Physitians skil;
To purchase health sung praises in his Ear
More than the living of the Dead would hear,
For though our gifts, buy care, nought justly payes
Physitians love, but faith, their art, but praise:
Which I observ'd; now walk, as I should see
A death of all things, save thy memory,
But if this yearly Vintage shall create
New wishes in my blood, to celebrate
Endimion thee thy Muse, and thy large heart,
Thy wisdom that hath taught the world an art
How (not enform'd by cunning) courtship may
Subdue the minde, and not the man betray,

218

If me (thy priest) our curled Youth assigne,
To wash our Fleet-street Altars with new Wine;
I will (since 'tis to thee a Sacrifice)
Take care, that plenty swell not into vice,
Lest by a fiery surfeit I be led;
Once more to grow devout in a strange bed,
Lest through kind weakness in decay of health,
Or vanity to shew my utmost wealth;
I should again bequeath thee when I die,
To haughty Poets as a Legacie.