Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets With variety of other drolling Verses upon several Subjects. Composed by no body must know whom, and are to be had every body knows where, and for somebody knows what [by John Eliot] |
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To the Lord Chamberlain.
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 | Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets |  |
To the Lord Chamberlain.
My Lord, so subject to the worser fameAre ev'n the best that claim a Poets name,
(Especially poor they that serve the stage,
Though worthily, in this verse hating age.)
And that dread Curse so heavy yet doth lye
Which the wrong'd Fates, fall'n out wth Mercury
Pronounc'd for ever to attend upon
All such as only dream of Hellicon,
That durst I swear, cheated by self opinion,
I were Apollo's, or the Muses Minion,
Reason would yet assure me, 'tis decreed
Such as are Poets born, are born to need.
If the most worthy then, whose pay's but praise
Or a few sprigs, from the now withering Bayes,
Groan underneath their wants, what hope have I
(Scarce yet allow'd one of the Company)
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Ev'n want the ways, the bold, and thriving arts,
By which they grow remarkable, and are priz'd:
For sure I Could not live a thing despis'd
Durst I professe 'twere in my power to give
A Patron that should make him ever live;
Or tell great Lords that the main reason why
They hould a Poets praises flattery
Is their own guilt, that sence they left to do
Things worthy praise, ev'n praise is odious too.
Some few there are who by this boldness thrive
Which yet I dare not follow; others strive
In some high minded Ladies grace to stand,
Ever provided that her liberall hand
Pay for the virtues they bestow upon her,
And so long she's the miracle, and the honour
Of her whole sex, and has forsooth more worth
Then was in any Sparta ere brought forth:
But when the beautie fails a change is neer,
And she's not then, what once she did appear,
For the new giver, she dead, must inherit
What was by purchase got, and not by merit.
Let such write well that do this, and in grace,
I would not, for a pension or a place
Part so with mine own Candor, let me rather
Live poorly on those toyes I would not father,
Not known beyond a Player, or a man
That does pursue the Course that I have ran
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Or honest industry, Could I obtain
A noble favourer, I might write, and do
Like others of more name, and get one too,
Or else my Genius is false, I know
That Iohnson much of what he has does owe
To you, and to your Familie, and is never
Slow to professe that, nor had Fletcher ever
Such reputation, and Credit won
But by his honour'd Patron Huntington.
Inimitable Spencer ne'r had been
So famous for his matchless fairie Queene,
Had he not found a Sidny to preferr
His plain way in his shepherds Callender.
Nay Virgill's self, or Martial does lie,
Could hardly frame a poor Gnats elegie
Before Mecænas cherisht him, but then
He straight Conceiv'd Æneas, and the men
That found out Italy. theirs are presidents
I cite with reverence my low intents
Look not so high, yet some worke I might frame
That should nor wrong my duty, nor your name
Were but your Honour pleas'd to cast an eye
Of favour on my trod downe povertie.
How ever I Confess my self to be
Ever most bound to your blest Charitie
To others that feed on it, and will pay
My praiers with theirs, that as you doe, you may
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So Clear a life will find a worthier pen,
For me I rest assur'd besides the Glory
'Twood make a Poet but to write your story.
| Poems consisting of Epistles and Epigrams, Satyrs, Epitaphs and Elogies, Songs and Sonnets | |