University of Virginia Library

Of Pouertie.

Now vnto thee that art contemn'd of all,
Derided, spurned, forced from the wall
Vnto the kennell, do I frame my speech,
That I thy selfe some patience might teach.
And moue withall such as doe heare thee cry,
“But stop their Eares, to some more charitie.
Take comfort then, for thou shalt see on earth,
Most of thy coate to be of greatest worth.
Though not in state, for who ere saw but merit,
Was rather borne to begge than to inherit;
Yet in the Gifts of Nature, we shall finde,
A ragged Coate oft haue a Royall minde.
For to descend to each distinct degree,
By due Experience we the same shall see.
If to Pernassus where the Muses are,
There shall we finde their Dyet very bare:
Their houses ruin'd, and their well springs dry,
Admir'd for nought so much as Pouertie.
Here shall we see poore Æschylus maintaine
His Nighterne studies with his Daily paine;
Pulling vp Buckets (but 'twas neuer knowne)
That filling others, he could fill his owne.
Here many more discerne we may of these,
As Lamachus, and poore Antisthenes;
Both which the sweetes of Poesie did sipp,
Yet were Rewarded with a staffe and scripp:
For I nere knew, nor (much I feare) shall know it,
Any die rich, that liu'd to die a Poet.
If to Profession of the Law we goe,
We find the best Practisioners proue so;
For such we count the best, as will not be
(For Conscience-sake) corrupted with a fee;
Whilest others of lesse Conscience farre, than wit,
Thinke him not wise, cannot dispence with it.
If to the Plow-man, who doth till the Land,
And gets himselfe a liuing by his hand:
Oft we shall finde for all his early care,
Continuall labour, and his slender fare;
His hopefull crop hath not his wisht successe,
Or something else mis-carries, more or lesse;
Which questionlesse, is to the Plowman sent,
To try him with, and make him patient.
Yea, we shall see that Fortune beares a hate,
In euery order, ranke, degree, and state:
To men of most demerit: th'cause may be,
Fortune is blind and cannot merit see:
Or for because her selfe is ignorant,
Shee giues the wittall, lets the wittie want,
Desiring onely such men to aduance,
As honour her and fauour ignorance.
And sure me thinkes, an instance may be giuen,
Euen in these sacred Ministers of Heauen;
Such I doe meane who honour much the Lord
In Reuerent dispensing of his Word,
Breaking the Bread of life with due respect,
Yet are Rewarded with a meere Neglect:
Reaping for their deserts no other Grace,
Then some poore stipend, or a Curates place.
This is their hyre, while others lesse deseruing
In Conuersation, Graue respect and learning
Eate of the fat, Non-residence must serue,
Feeding themselues, while their poore flockes doe sterue:
Such were those Abby-lubbers who could sleepe,
And fleece their flocks, but seldome feed their sheep.
These like to Drones (for so they seeme to me)
Liue on the Labours of th'Industrious Bee:
For while the Bee (to make her honey-combe)
Romes here and there: these dronelike stay at home,
And eate the fruit (so be these Lubbars fed)
For which the Bee so truely laboured.
Call vp thy spirits then, who ere thou be
That are distrest by meanes of Pouertie.
For this thou see'st descendeth in a Bloud,
And claymes possession onely of the Good.
It's not our Vertues, nor the worth of men
how rare so euer, can exempt vs then
From this Affliction, but it's in our will
(Dispos'd by God) to take it well or ill.
For he that takes it as from Heauen sent,
For's better Triall and Experiment,
“Makes a right vse of what he doth sustaine,
“And for his want, shall haue a treble gaine.
Some we haue read of Rich, and others poore,
Yet being dead, we finde of them no more
Then that they were, and being now both gone,
Twixt rich and poore the difference is none.
And therefore was it shaddow'd well at these,
By that same Cynick-doggd Diogenes,
Who on a time to make a speciall vse
Of humane state went to a Charnell house,
Where store of skulls, and bones he gathered,
Of Princes, Peeres, and Beggars that were dead.
Which being done, he lay'd them in the way
Where Alexander was to passe that day;
Who in Victorious manner passing by,
Askt him the reason, why those Bones did lye
In such a frequent place? Quoth he, I know
Here be the Bones of Swaynes and Princes too,
And I haue sought (but all I did is vaine)
To know which is the Princes from the Swayne.
It's true indeed that Vertue onely giues
Life to our Name, by which it onely liues:
For outward States how glorious so ere,
Make vs but honour'd onely while we'r here,
For when the hour-glasse of our life is runne,
That admiration which we had is done,
And all that pompe and beautie of our day
By Syth of Fate is taken cleane away.
We read of in the Stories of fore tyme,
How that Redowbted Sultane Saladine,
After exployts and sundry Victories,
With which he had enlarg'd his Seignories;
Brauely atchieu'd he fell extreamly sicke,
And feeling now the sting of death to pricke,
He call'd his Chieftaine to him, who at hand,
Drew neere and askt him what was his command.
To thee (quoth Saladine) as Generall
Of my Victorious Armie doe I call,
For thou hast seene me with my Persian darts
To force a terror in the Easterne parts.
Yea well thou know'st I neuer lost the day
But still departed Conquerour away:
Yet now behold how I am captiue led,
And in my Conquests now am conquered;
For I am forc't by Deaths assault to yeeld,
And Coward-like to leaue thee in the feeld.
Hie to Damascus, where in th'open streete,
In stead of Ensignes reare this winding sheete;
And say, Behold great Saladine's bereft
Of all he had, nought but this sheete is left.
Euen he whose Temples, wreaths of Fame adornes,
Pray'd to by Kings, becomes a prey to Wormes.
Is this the end of Great ones? 'Las what then
Is th'difference twixt them and meaner men?
Little or none, to say I may be bold,
Since both had their Creation of one mould,
Both haue one forme, one feature, yet we see
In Formes alike, what different honours bee.
So as we cannot well resemble it
To any one similitude more fit
Then to some faire Brick-building, where we know
Some Brickes are plac't aboue, and some below:
These on the Spires and Turrets, whose high seate
Implie those men we spake of, that are Great.
These on the Eues, or neere the Pent-house plac't,
Shaddow those Men which liue by Time disgras't.
Yet when this Building shall be pulled downe,
And her aspiring Turrets overthrowne;
Gazing vpon those Ruines with our eye,
We cannot iudge which Brickes were low, which hie:
Yea those same Brickes perchance at next remoue,
Which were below, shall then be plac't aboue.
Others there be, these diffrent states expresse,
By a Resemblance to a Game at Chesse;
Where some are Kings, some made to guard on thē.
Some Peeres and Bishops, others meaner men;
Yet shall you hardly know them which is whether,
When they are put vp in a Bagge together.
Some haue compar'd these states vnto a Stage,
Where each haue roabes that fit their personage:
Some Princely Monarcks, others Vassayles be,
The Meane-men slau'd to Great-mens libertie.
Yet is their play no sooner end'd and done,
But they'r vnstript of th'Garments they put on.
And being disrob'd, they are no Princes more,
But those same persons which they were before.
Though some I know, that will not with their will
Put off their Suites, but loue to weare them still;
That they (belike) of people might be knowne,
Or rather this, cause they haue pawnd their owne:
“But there's no hope of such in any age,
Who make their stew their Tyre-house, streete their stage.
But heare me (starueling) now to thee I come,
That begg'st all day, yet hardly gets a crum,
How ere thou seeme afflicted and forlorne,
“Thou liu'st not halfe so poore, as thou was borne,
Now thou hast rags, tho meane God-wot they be,
But at thy Birth th'hadst nought to couer thee:
Then, if thou hadst want succour and reliefe,
Thou had no tongue to manifest thy griefe,
But now thou hast a tongue, and tho none heare thee
“Yet there is one aboue that will be neare thee:
And can auenge thee, for it's he that heares
Thy ruthfull cryes, and bottles vp thy teares.
Besides I see th'Aduantage thou may haue
Ore Richer men, in going to thy Graue:
For well I know, when they approach their end,
They must take leaue of kinsman and of friend;
Which puling come with finger in the eye,
And makes them farre vnwillinger to die.
Whiles thou in Death feeles soueraigne remedie
To all thy Griefes, and through thy Pouertie,
Importunes Death when shee doth seeme to stay,
And comming meetes him, better halfe the way:
For now at last thou thinks the Time is come
Wherein thou may'st be equall vnto some
That here dispis'd thee; and indeed thou may
“For thou hast lesse to answer for, than they.
Be this thy Recluse then, and here repose
Thy selfe a while to descant of thy woes,
And tell me when th'haste read this Poæme ore,
If thou finde not more solace then before.