William Davenant

“ Then reconcile the rich, for Gold-fring'd-gloves,
The poore, for God-sake, or for Sugar-loaves!
When I perceiv'd, that cares on wealth rely;
That I was destin'd for authoritie,
And early Gowts; my Soule in a strange fright
From this rich Isle began her hasty flight;
And to my halfe dead Body did returne,
Which new inspir'd, rose cheerefull as the Morne.
Heroique Prince, may still thy acts, and name,
Become the wonder and discourse of Fame ”

“ From humane sight; from knowledge he was borne;
Unlesse Succession finde him in our scorne.
Remembrance, never to Repentance showes,
The wealth wee gaine, but what wee feare to lose;
Thou art my wealth ”

“ Which the Sunne saw, or Elements sustain'd;
He not beleev'd, a race from him might come
So num'rous, that to make new off-spring roome,
Is now the best excuse of Nature, why
Men long in growth, so easily must die. ”

“ Which with such cheerefull hearts, all did obey,
As if no Law, were juster than thy word;
Thy Scepter still were safe, without a Sword.
And here Chronologers pronounce thy stile;
The first true Monarch of the Golden Isle:
An Isle, so seated for predominance,
Where Navall strength, its power can so advance,
That it may tribute take, of what the East
Shall ever send in traffique to the West. ”

“ With timely gifts, not Speeches finely pend;
So make the Northerne Victors Fame
No more our envy, nor our shame;
Let this yeare bring
To Charles our King:
To Charles; who is th'example, and the law,
By whom the good are taught, not kept in awe. ”

“ Whose fame still growes, and yet is ever ripe;
Like fruits of Paradise, which nought could blast
But ignorance; for a desire to taste,
And know, produc'd no curse; but neut'rall will,
When knowledge made indiff'rent, good, and ill.
So whilst our judgement keepes unmix'd, and pure,
Our Sidney's full-growne Fame will still endure:
Sidney, like whom these Champions strive to grace,
The silenc'd remnant of poore Orpheus race.
First those, whom mighty Numbers shall inspire ”

“ Ere Tides began to strive, or Winds were heard;
Kind, as the willing Saints, and calmer farre,
Than in their sleepes forgiven Hermits are:
You that are more, than our discreeter feare
Dares praise, with such dull Art, what make you here? ”

“ Have twenty Bills to keepe him off till day:
Sleepe, whom th'high tun'd Cloth-worker, Weaver tall,
Nor Cobler shrill, with Catches or his Aule,
Knowes to resist, seal'd up our lips, and sight;
Making us blind, and silent as the Night. ”

“ Like Ships neere Rocks, when stormes are growne so high,
They cannot warne each other with their cry:
Ev'n so, not hearing what would make them flye,
All stay'd, and sunke, for sad societie:
Their wounds are such, the Neighb'ring Rivers need
No Springs to make them flow, but what they bleed:
Where Fishes wonder at their red-dy'd flood,
And by long nourishment on humane blood,
May grow so neere a kin to men, that he
who feeds on them hereafter, needs must be
Esteem'd as true a Caniball, as those
Whose luscious diet is their conquer'd Foes. ”

“ But all are wisely jealous of increase:
For Eaters grow so fast, that wee must drive
Our friends away to keepe our selves alive:
And Warr would be lesse needfull, if to die,
Had bin as pleasant as to multiplie.
Forgive mee Prince, that this aspiring flame
(First kindled as a light, to shew thy fame)
Consumes so fast, and is mis-spent so long,
Ere my chiefe Vision is become my Song,
Thy selfe I saw, quite tir'd with victorie;
As weary growne to kill, as they to die:
Whilst some at last, thy mercy did enjoy
'Cause t'was lesse paines, to pardon than destroy ”

“ It is (Lord of my Muse and heart) since last
Thy sight inspir'd me, many ages past.
In darknesse thick as ill-met Clouds can make,
In sleeps wherein the last Trump scarce could wake
The guiltlesse dead, I lay; and hidden more
Than Truth, which testy Controverts explore.
More hid than paths of Snakes, to their deep beds,
Or walkes of Mountaine-Springs from their first Heads:
And when my long forgotten Eies, and Mind,
Awak'd; I thought to see the Sunne declin'd
Through age, to th' influence of a Starre, and Men
So small, that they might live in Wombes agen. ”

“ By somes o're hot, lascivious Noone-day-beame;
From whence, he cals himselfe, The wealth of sight,
The Morn's Executor, the Heire of Light:
And he, that thinks his rule extends so farre,
He hopes, the former Three his Vassailes are:
Compar'd to him, in Warre hee rates them lesse,
Than Corporals; than Constables in peace:
And hopes the mighty Presbiter stands bare
In rev'rence of his name, and will not dare
To weare (though sick) his purple Turband on
Within a hundred Leagues, of his bright Throne.
These Mortall Gods, for traffique still disperse
Their envy'd wealth, throughout the universe ”

“ March to the List; whilst eithers cheerefull looke
Fore-told glad hopes, of what they undertooke.
Their lookes; where forc'd-state-clouds, nere strive to lowre,
As if sweet feature, bus'nesse could makesowre:
Where solemne sadnesse of a new court face,
Nere meant to signifie their pow'r, or place.
You may esteeme them Lovers by their haire;
The colour warnes no Lady to despaire;
And Nature seem'd to prove their stature such,
As tooke not scantly from her, nor too much:
So tall, wee can't mis-name their stature length,
Nor think't lesse made for comlinesse, than strength. ”

“ His hands and leggs, were Finnes, his Horse, a Fish.
Dull as a thick-skull'd-Iustice, drunke with Sloth;
Or Alderman (farre gone in Capon Broth)
Wee all appear'd; no man gave breath to thought;
But like to silent Traytors in a Vault,
Digg'd on our way; or as wee Traytors were
T'our selves, and jealous of each others Eare:
And as i'th Worlds great Showre, some that did spie
(Hors'd on the Plaines) Rivers, and Seas draw nigh;
Spurr'd on apace; in feare all lost their time,
That could not reach a ground where they might climbe ”

“ To choose the strongest Sunne, and weakest Showre:
Such, as in Groves Cecilian Lovers eat,
To coole those wishes, that their Ladies heat.
But if the Gard'ner make (like Adam) all
Our human hopes, bold, and apocryphall ”

“ To purchase health, sung prayses in his Eare,
More than the Living of the Dead would heare.
For though our gifts, buy care, nought justly payes
Physitians love, but faith, their art, but prayse:
Which I observ'd ”