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 Henry Jarmin.
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 | The works of Sr William Davenant |  |
To Henry Jarmin.
How wicked am I now? no Man can grow
More wicked, till he swares I am not so:
Since VVealth, which doth authorise men to err,
Since Hope, (that is the lawfull'st Flatterer)
VVere never mine one hour; yet am I loth
To have less pride, then men possess'd of both:
Fuller of glory, than old Victors be,
That thank themselves, not Heav'n for Victorie:
Prouder than Kings first Mistresses, who think
Their Eies, gazing on Stars, would make Stars winke,
That hope, they rule not not by Imperial place,
But by some beautious Charter in the Face.
Yet this my pride and glory, I think lost
Unless declar'd, and heightned with a boast,
Am I not bravely wicked then! and still
Shall worse appear, in Nature as in will
VVhen with my Malice (the grave VVit of Sin)
T' excuse my self, I draw the whole VVorld in;
Prove all in pride, in trival glory share;
Though not so harmeless in't, as Poets are.
More wicked, till he swares I am not so:
Since VVealth, which doth authorise men to err,
Since Hope, (that is the lawfull'st Flatterer)
VVere never mine one hour; yet am I loth
To have less pride, then men possess'd of both:
Fuller of glory, than old Victors be,
That thank themselves, not Heav'n for Victorie:
Prouder than Kings first Mistresses, who think
Their Eies, gazing on Stars, would make Stars winke,
That hope, they rule not not by Imperial place,
But by some beautious Charter in the Face.
Yet this my pride and glory, I think lost
Unless declar'd, and heightned with a boast,
Am I not bravely wicked then! and still
Shall worse appear, in Nature as in will
VVhen with my Malice (the grave VVit of Sin)
T' excuse my self, I draw the whole VVorld in;
Prove all in pride, in trival glory share;
Though not so harmeless in't, as Poets are.
VVhen Battails joyne alas! what is't doth move
('Gainst all Celestial harmony of Love)
The Gallant VVarriour to assault this Foe?
VVhose Vices, and whose Face, he ne're did know:
VVhy would he kill? or why, for Princes fight?
They quarrel more for glory, than for right:
The pride then he defends, he'ld punish too,
As if more Just in him, than in the Foe.
('Gainst all Celestial harmony of Love)
The Gallant VVarriour to assault this Foe?
VVhose Vices, and whose Face, he ne're did know:
VVhy would he kill? or why, for Princes fight?
They quarrel more for glory, than for right:
The pride then he defends, he'ld punish too,
As if more Just in him, than in the Foe.
Th' Ambitious States-man not himself admires
For what he hath, but what his pride desires;
Doth inwardly confess, he covets sway,
Because he is too haughty to obay:
VVho yeild to him, do not their reason please,
But hope, their patience may procure them ease,
How proudly glorious doth he then appear,
VVhom ev'n the Proud, envy, the humble, fear.
For what he hath, but what his pride desires;
Doth inwardly confess, he covets sway,
Because he is too haughty to obay:
VVho yeild to him, do not their reason please,
But hope, their patience may procure them ease,
How proudly glorious doth he then appear,
VVhom ev'n the Proud, envy, the humble, fear.
252
The Studious (that in Books so long have sought)
VVhat our wise Fathers did, or what they thought)
Admit not reason to be natural,
But forc'd, harsh, and uneasie unto all:
VVell may be it so, when from our Soul's Eyes,
VVith dark Schoole-Clouds, they keep it in disguise:
They seem to know, what they are loth t'impart;
Reason (our Nature once) is now their Art:
They by Sophistick, useless-science, trie
T'ingage us still, to their false industry;
T'unite that knot, which they themselves have ty'd,
And had been loose to all, but for their pride;
Their pride; who rule as chief on earth, because
They only can expound, their own hard laws,
VVhat our wise Fathers did, or what they thought)
Admit not reason to be natural,
But forc'd, harsh, and uneasie unto all:
VVell may be it so, when from our Soul's Eyes,
VVith dark Schoole-Clouds, they keep it in disguise:
They seem to know, what they are loth t'impart;
Reason (our Nature once) is now their Art:
They by Sophistick, useless-science, trie
T'ingage us still, to their false industry;
T'unite that knot, which they themselves have ty'd,
And had been loose to all, but for their pride;
Their pride; who rule as chief on earth, because
They only can expound, their own hard laws,
Since thus, all that direct what others do,
Are proud; why should not Poets be so too?
Although not good, tis prosperous at least
To imitate the greatest, not the best,
Know then I must be proud! but when I tell
The cause that makes my nourish'd glory swell,
I shall like (lucky Pensils) have the fate
T' exceed the Patterns which I imitate,
This not implies, to be more proud than they,
But bravely to be proud, a better way:
And thus (Arigo) I may safely climbe,
Rays'd with the boast, not loaden with the crime:
Those with their glorious vices taken be,
But I (most right'ously) am proud of thee.
Are proud; why should not Poets be so too?
Although not good, tis prosperous at least
To imitate the greatest, not the best,
Know then I must be proud! but when I tell
The cause that makes my nourish'd glory swell,
I shall like (lucky Pensils) have the fate
T' exceed the Patterns which I imitate,
This not implies, to be more proud than they,
But bravely to be proud, a better way:
And thus (Arigo) I may safely climbe,
Rays'd with the boast, not loaden with the crime:
Those with their glorious vices taken be,
But I (most right'ously) am proud of thee.
| The works of Sr William Davenant | |