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, when my Comedy (call'd the Wits)
was presented at Black-Fryers.
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 | The works of Sr William Davenant |  |
To Endimion Porter, when my Comedy (call'd the Wits) was presented at Black-Fryers.
Hear, how for want of others grief, I mournMy sad decay, and weep, at mine own Urne!
The Hour's (that ne're want Wings, when they should fly
To hasten Death, or lead on Destinie,)
Have now fulfill'd the time, when I must come
Chain'd to the Muses Barre, to take my doom:
When ev'ry Term, some tim'rous Poet stands,
Condemn'd by whispers, e're repriev'd by hands.
I that am told conspiracies are laid,
To have my Muse, her Arts, and life betray'd,
Hope for no easie Judge; though thou wert there,
T'appease, and make their judgments less severe.
In this black day, like men from Thunders rage,
Or drowning showres, I hasten from the stage;
And with my self, some Spirit, had within
Those distant wandring Winds, that yet have bin
Unknown to th' Compass, or the Pilots skill;
Or some loose Plummit sunk so low, until
I touch where roots of Rocks deep bury'd be;
There mourn beneath the leafeless Coral Tree.
But I am grown too tame! what need I fear,
Whilst not to passion, but thy reason clear?
Should I perceive, thy knowledge were subdu'd,
T' unkind consent with the harsh Multitude,
Then I had cause to weep; and at thy Gate
(Deny'd to enter) stand disconsolate,
Amaz'd and lost to mine own Eyes; there I
(Scarce griev'd for by my self) would winke and die,
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To bury me, and give me funeral.
| The works of Sr William Davenant | |