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Rochester Bridge;
A poem written in A. D. 1601
I
But Rochester shall eccho forth my praiseIf Rochester remaine not most ungratefull,
A sin in fashion for these humerous daies:
To whome wee owe, to them we are most hatefull:
O that it were in fashion; I am sure
Nine daies (like wonders) fashions but endure.
II
I must upraide her else, not praises giving,How first my favours patronag'd her pride:
But in too much remembrance of the living,
In darke oblivion dead mens praise wee hide.
A begger from the dunghill once extold,
Forgets himselfe, whom what he was of old.
III
When first her gravell-purified river,No Bridge upon her bore-lod'n bosome bore,
Some high renowne I strivéd for to give her,
And made a Bridge her swiftest currant o're.
Sir Robert Knowles was in the same an actor:
But Cobham was the chiefest benefactor.
IV
And Walter Merton, Mertons Colledge founder,(Why doth mischance neere charitie thus dwell,)
With lime and sand gainst tempest-beating bound her,
Who from her top by great misfortune fell,
Riding along the workemen for to see:
Fortune is alwaies vertues enemie.
V
Kinde Rochester it seemes hath yet respectedHis name should live in ages for to come,
In whose Memoriall lately is erected
An Epitaph upon a marble tombe:
But one good turne another still doth crave,
For this; they found a goblet in his grave.
VI
Warham, th'archbishop once of Canterbery,The Iron barres upon the Bridge bestow'd:
Warner the copings did reedifie,
And many since their liberall minds have show'd,
Whose deedes in life (if deedes can Heaven merit)
Made them in death all heavenly joyes inherit.
163
VII
Thus Medway by this faire stone Bridge adornéd,Made Thamesis enamor'd of her beauty:
All other rivers England had he scornéd,
Yeelding to her kinde love-deserving duty,
In smiles, embracements, gratious lookes and greetings,
In amorous kisses, murmures, night-set meetings.
VIII
But how he courted, how himselfe hee carri'd,And how the favour of this Nimph he wonne,
And with what pompe Thames was to Medway marri'd,
Sweete Spenser shewes (O griefe that Spenser's gone!)
With whose life Heaven a while enricht us more,
That by his death wee might be ever pore.
IX
Let marriners which shute his arches through,Describe aright his length, his bredth, his beautie;
Riding in's sight, they vaile their bonnet low,
And strike their top-saile in submissive dutie:
He'el not be brav'd; no vessell since the marriage,
Will he receive, but of a lowly carriage.
X
Some higher ship, whose sailes are swolne with pride,Whose bloudy flaggs like fierie streamers hing,
At Chattam lies, and from her hollow side,
With double charge sendes forth a culvering,
Which rends the shore, and makes the towne to shake,
The Bridge her breath, herselfe in snuffe doth take.
XI
The fierie smoake this Engine vomits out,To him transported by the aire and wind[es]
Hee straight receives, and prisons in throughout
His hollow vaults, his crevices and rindes,
So th'aire redoubling in his arches, slips
A mocking eccho to these prowder ships.
XII
This Bridge revives my dying memorie,Over the which I passe into the Towne,
To view the sacred Church of Trinitie
Built by Sir Robert Knowles: and (though unknowne)
That Chauntrey joyning to the same I founded,
Where Harmonie for ever should be sounded.
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