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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Elegie,
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 | The works of Sr William Davenant |  |
Elegie,
On Francis Earle of Rutland.
Call not the Winds! nor bid the Rivers stay!
For though the sighs, the teares they could repay
Which injur'd Lovers, Mourners for the Dead,
Captives, and Saints; have breath'd away, and shed;
Yet we should want to make our sorrow fit
For such a cause, as now doth silence it.
Rutland! the noble, and the just! whose name
Already is, all History, all Fame!
Whom like brave Ancestors in Battaile lost,
We mention not in pitty, but in boast!
How didst thou smile, to see the solemne sport,
Which vexes busie greatness in the Court?
T'observe their Lawes of faction, place and Time,
Their precepts how, and where, and when to climbe?
Their rules, to know if the sage meaning lies,
In the deep Breast, i'th' shallow Brow, or Eyes?
Though Titles, and thy blood, made thee appeare,
(Oft 'gainst thy ease) where these state-Rabbins were,
Yet their Philosophy thou knew'st was fit,
For thee to pitty, more then study it.
Safely thou valu'dst Cunning, as 'thad been,
Wisdome, long since, distemper'd into Sin:
And knew'st, the actions of th'Ambitious are
But as the false Alarmes in running warre,
Like forlorne Scouts (that raise the coyle) they keep
Themselves awake, to hinder others sleep:
And all they gaine, by vex'd expence of breath.
Unquietness, and guilt; is at their death,
Wonder, and mighty noise; whilst things that be
Most deare and pretious to Mortalitie
(Time, and thy Self) impatient here of stay,
With a grave silence, seeme to steal away;
Depart from us unheard, and we still mourne
In vaine (though piously) for their returne.
Thy Bounties if I name; I'le not admit,
Kings when they love, or wooe, to equall it:
It shew'd like Natur's self, when she doth bring
All she can promise by an early Spring;
Or when she payes that promise where she best
Makes Summers for Mankind; in the rich East.
And, as the wise Sun, silently imployes
His lib'rall Beames, and ripens without Noise;
As precious Dewes, doe undiscover'd fall,
And growth insensibly doth steale on all;
So what he gave, conceal'd in private came,
(As in the dark) from one that had no name;
Like Fayries wealth, not given to restore,
Or if reveal'd, it visited no more.
For though the sighs, the teares they could repay
Which injur'd Lovers, Mourners for the Dead,
Captives, and Saints; have breath'd away, and shed;
Yet we should want to make our sorrow fit
For such a cause, as now doth silence it.
Rutland! the noble, and the just! whose name
Already is, all History, all Fame!
Whom like brave Ancestors in Battaile lost,
We mention not in pitty, but in boast!
How didst thou smile, to see the solemne sport,
Which vexes busie greatness in the Court?
T'observe their Lawes of faction, place and Time,
Their precepts how, and where, and when to climbe?
Their rules, to know if the sage meaning lies,
In the deep Breast, i'th' shallow Brow, or Eyes?
Though Titles, and thy blood, made thee appeare,
(Oft 'gainst thy ease) where these state-Rabbins were,
Yet their Philosophy thou knew'st was fit,
For thee to pitty, more then study it.
Safely thou valu'dst Cunning, as 'thad been,
Wisdome, long since, distemper'd into Sin:
And knew'st, the actions of th'Ambitious are
But as the false Alarmes in running warre,
243
Themselves awake, to hinder others sleep:
And all they gaine, by vex'd expence of breath.
Unquietness, and guilt; is at their death,
Wonder, and mighty noise; whilst things that be
Most deare and pretious to Mortalitie
(Time, and thy Self) impatient here of stay,
With a grave silence, seeme to steal away;
Depart from us unheard, and we still mourne
In vaine (though piously) for their returne.
Thy Bounties if I name; I'le not admit,
Kings when they love, or wooe, to equall it:
It shew'd like Natur's self, when she doth bring
All she can promise by an early Spring;
Or when she payes that promise where she best
Makes Summers for Mankind; in the rich East.
And, as the wise Sun, silently imployes
His lib'rall Beames, and ripens without Noise;
As precious Dewes, doe undiscover'd fall,
And growth insensibly doth steale on all;
So what he gave, conceal'd in private came,
(As in the dark) from one that had no name;
Like Fayries wealth, not given to restore,
Or if reveal'd, it visited no more.
If these live, and be read (as who shall dare
Suspect, Truth, and thy Fame, immortall are?)
What need thy noble Brother, or faire She,
That is thy self, in purest imagrie;
Whose breath, and Eyes, the Fun'rall-Spie, and flame
Continue still, of gentle Buckingham;
What need they send poore Pioners to grone,
In lower Quarries for Corinthian stone?
To dig in Parian Hills? since statues must,
And Monuments, turne like our selves to dust:
Verse, to all ages can our deeds declare,
Tombs, but a while shew where our Bodies are.
Suspect, Truth, and thy Fame, immortall are?)
What need thy noble Brother, or faire She,
That is thy self, in purest imagrie;
Whose breath, and Eyes, the Fun'rall-Spie, and flame
Continue still, of gentle Buckingham;
What need they send poore Pioners to grone,
In lower Quarries for Corinthian stone?
To dig in Parian Hills? since statues must,
And Monuments, turne like our selves to dust:
Verse, to all ages can our deeds declare,
Tombs, but a while shew where our Bodies are.
| The works of Sr William Davenant | |