Classic Poem

L O here a Monument admir'd of all
That weigh the compass, weight , and height of it,
O'r topping Envie's clouds, and ever shall
Sith built by deepest: Art and highest Wit .
The B ASE that bears it, is the W ORD that stands
True G ROUND of highest glorie, truth, and grace ,
The B UILDING rear'd by two rare heads and hands
(Divinely holp) to glorifie that B ASR .
Here French and English , joyne in friendly fight
(On even Ground ) to prove their utmost power;
Who shew such equall Skill , and equall Might .
That hard it is to say who's conqueror.
But, English bound to foot it like the French
And offer nought, but what shall like her foe.
It is as glorious seld to take a Wrench
As being free, to give an overthrow.
If French to English were so strictly bound
It would but passing lamely strive with it;
And soon be fore't to lose both grace and ground .
Although they strave with equall Skill and Wit
Besides, all Prose is easier to translate
Then Verse : and easier low, then lofty Lines .
Then, these L INES , reaching to the top of S TATE
Are hard'st of all: yet none of all declines.
O faire Translation then, with smoothed face,
Goe forth to allure T ime's Turns , to turn Thee o'r;
So shall they in thy folds unfold thy grace ,
And grace thee with Fame's glory more and more
If Hee that churn'd the Cream of Poetry
To honied Butter , that the Muses feeds,
Divined truly, it should never die;
Then, what shall This , that far the same exceeds?
Hee labour'd Liues , w eh though thy doe endure
All turns of Time , yet was their stuf profane:
But these are drawn of S TUF more heav'nly pure
That most shall shine; when those are in the wane
Hee though his Braines (profanely) were divine
And glorious Monuments of art compos'd
Was yet exil'd for many a looser Line ,
That made them wantons, chastely else dispos'd:
But, thou ( clear B ARTAS , his dear S YLVESTER ,
Whose Lines do lead to V ERTUES only gaine,
And with sweet Poesies strew'st the way to her)
How should the World remunerate thy paine?
And, if from heart's aboundance tongues do speak ;
And what we most affect, wee most doe minde
It argues, thou this Argument didst seek;
Sith, in thy Soule before, thou didst it finde
So, B ARTAS was but Mid wife to thy Muse
With greater ease to utter her Conceits ,
For whose dear birth, thou didst all ease refuse,
World's weale, and (being a Merchant ) thy Receits
This pain so pleas'd thy labouring Thoughts , that thou
Forsook'st the Sea , and took'st thee to the Soile
Where (from thy royall Trade ) thou fell'st to plow
Art's furrows with thy Pen , that yeeld but toyl
This stole thee from thy selfe, thy selfe to finde
In sacred Raptures on the Muses ' Hill:
And, went'st out of thy Body with thy Minde .
More freely so, to use thy Wit and Will
And (O!) how haplesse had wee Britains been
(Sith here is stor'd such sweet Soule ravishments )
Hadst thou not made them to us clearly seen:
Who give thee for it praising Discontents ?
If so great Art and Grace , finde nought but fame
Of famous Men for grace; the Presse shall be
Prest but for Vice's Service (Source of shame ).
So Times to come, in Print our shame shall see
But O! be 't far from this so famous Isle
For Armes and Learning , either to neglect:
Sith it doth grace and glorie quite exile,
And is the cause of many a bad effect.
O terrene Gods, as yee to State aspire,
Lift Learning up with you; especially
If matcht with Wisedome , and divine desire:
So shall yee twice be like the D EITY
And, weigh what pow'r the Pens of such possesse
(Of such; for others will but gild your Crimes )
Their Pens eternise can your worthinesse:
And make yee glorious, past succeeding Times .
But you doe justly to neglect and scorn
The cursed crue, that doe the Muse abuse;
For, they your praises to dispraises turn;
As Vice, in praising V ERTUE 's grace, doth use
Their wine-driv'n brains, involv'd in follie's cloud,
Fly here, and there (and where not?) with a trice:
And, though both beggars base, yet passing proud:
Constant in nothing but inconstant Vice:
Making loose lines (forsooth) their Seala Caeli ,
A Taverne for a Temple to adore;
Their onely god, their guts, their beastly Belly,
To whom they offer all their slender Store.
The Lands of such, are odious like their Lives:
They (Pitch) pollute what ere they doe but touch;
Whose glory to the foulest shame arrives:
Then, well you fence your fame to keep off such.
But they whose lives and lauds, and lines are S OURCE
Of Moral vertue, running by each stone
(Men high, and hard, that let them in their Course)
To Seas of glory, like clear Helicon ;
O! these ye should support, and still receive
Into the Ocean of your bound lesse love:
For these (like truest Friends) will take, and give
No more but what true Vertue shall approve
If these should pine away through your neglect,
Your memories shall dye, or live with shame;
Sith such a Muse is the chiefe Architect ,
To reare, from Earth to Heav'n , a lasting N AME .
Achilles fame, with him, had been interr'd,
Had H OMER 's lines not ty'd it to the Stars
And, of Æneas wee had never heard,
Had Virgil's S TRAINS not been his Trumpelers .
One of the N INE had bin our Warwick's Guy ,
(The N INE , whose worth all Times so much commend;)
And so disrankt great B ULLEN 's G ODFERY
Had hee but had a T ASSO for his friend
L AURA had ne're so greenly growne above
Her Peers , as now she doth, to after times,
Had she not had a P ETRARCH to her Love;
Which made her mount, with N ECTAR dropping Rimes
No, no: ye cannot but out-live your Fame,
If ye uphold not F AME 's best Notaries:
If these ye scorne, your glory is but game;
For, when ye die, in game your glory dies
And, though blest P EACE hath turn'd our Spears to spades,
Let it not turn our pens to ploughs , or worse;
By Learning some should live as some by Trades
In blessed S TATES , that would incurre no curse.
Where Vertue is not rais'd, and Vice supprest
There all to Vice will run: and so to wrack:
For, there the worst shall Lord it ore the best;
And where that is, all goes to utter sack
Reward , and Punishment (like Armes of Steel)
Doe still uphold each K ING -upholding S TATE :
For, neither wants, but it begins to reel;
But, both imploy'd, stands sure in spight of Hate ,
Then may thy H OPES , wing'd by thy vertuous Muse,
Dear Sylvester , expect some cherishment,
In this blest State , that still those Armes will use,
To stay her Grace , and grace her Government
But, if thy paines acquire but pure renowne ,
Thou art Christs Image, crost for Glorious crown

Beneficium dando accipit, qui digno dedit

The unfained lover of thine Art, honesty, and vertue,
J OHN D AVIES of Hereford
Divined truly, it should never die;
Then, what shall This , that far the same exceeds?
Hee labour'd Liues , w eh though thy doe endure
Allturns of Time , yet was their stuf profane;
But these are drawn of S TUP more heav'nly pure
That most shall shine; when those are in the wane
Hee though his Braines (profanely) were divine
And glorious Mo tuments of art compos'd
Was yet exil'd for many a looser Line ,
That made them wantons, chastely else dispos'd:
But, thou ( clear B ARTAS , his dear S YLVESTER ,
Whose Lines do lead to V ERTUES only gaine,
And with sweet Poesies strew'st the way to her)
How should the World remunerate thy paine?
And, if from heart's aboundance tangues do speak ;
And what we most affect, woe burst dot minde
It argues, thou this Argument dist seek;
Sith, in thy Soule before, thou didst it finde
So, B ARTAS was but Mid wife to thy Muse
With greater ease to utter her Conceits ,
For whose dear birth, thou didst all ease refuse,
World's weale, and (being a Merchant ) thy Receits
This pain so pleas'd thy labouring Thoughts that thou
Forsook'st the Sea , arkl took'st thee to the Sofle
Where (from thy royall Trade ) thou fell'st to plow
Art's furrows with thy Pea , that yeeld but toyl
This stole thee from thy selfe, thy selfe to finde
In sacred Reptures on the Muses Hill;
And, went'st out of the Body with thy Minde
More freely so, to use thy Wit and Will
And (Ol) how haplesse had wee Britains been
(Sith here is stor'd such sweer Soule ravishments )
Hadst thou not made them to us clearly seen:
Who give thee for it praising Discontents ?
If so great Art and Grace , finde nought but fame
Of famous Men for grace; the Presse shall be
Prest but for Vice's Service (Source of shame ).
So Times to come, in Print our shame shall see
But O! be't far from this so famous Isle
For Armes and Learning , either to neglect:
Sith it doth grace and glorle quite exile,
And is the cause of many a bad effect.
O terrene Gods, as yee to State aspire,
Lift Learning up with you; especially
If matcht with Wisedome , and divine desire:
So shall yee twice be like the D ETTY
And, weigh what pow'r the Pens of such possesse
(Of such; for others will but gild your Crimes )
Their Pens eternise can your worthinesse:
And make yee glorious, past succeeding Times ,
But you doe justly to neglect and scorn
The cursed cure, that doe the Muse abuse;
For, they your praises to dispraises turn;
As Vice, in praising V ERTUE 's grace, doth use
Their wine-driv'n brainst, involv'd in follie's cloud,
Fly here, and there (and where not?) with a trice:
And, though both beggars base, yet passing proud:
Constant in nothing but inconstant Vice:
Making loose lines (forsooth) their Seala Caeli ,
A Taverne for a Temple to adore;
Their onely god, their guts, their beastly Belly,
To whom they offer all their slender Store.
The Lands of such, are odious like their Lives:
They (Pitch) pollute what ere they doe but touch;
Whose glory to the foulest shame arrives:
Then, well you fence your fame to keep off such.
But they whose lives and lauds, and lines are S OURCE
Of Moral vertue, running by each stone
(Men bigh, and hard, that let them in their Course)
To Seas of glory, like clear Helicon ;
O! these ye should support, and still receive
Into the Ocean of your bound lesse love:
For these (like truest Friends) will take, and give
No more but what true Vertue shall approve
If these should pine away through your neglect,
Your memories shall dye, or live with shame;
Sith such a Muse is the chiefe Architect ,
To reare, from Earth to Heav'n , a lasting N AME
Achilles fame, with him had been interr'd,
Had H OMER 's lines not ty'd it to the Stars
And, of Æneas wee had never heard,
Had Virgil's S TRAINS not been his Trumpelers .
One of the N INE had bin our Warwick's Guy ,
(The N INE , whose worth all Times so much commend;)
And so disrankt great B ULLEN 's G ODFERY
Had hee but had a T ASSO for his friend
L AURA had ne're so grealy growne above
Her Peers , as now she doth, to after times,
Had she not had a P ETRARCH to her love;
Which made her mount, with N ECIAR dropping Rimes
No, no: ye cannot but out-live your Fame,
If ye uphold not F AME 's best Notaries:
If these ye scorne, your glory is but game;
For, when ye die, in game your glory dies
And, though blest P EACE hath turn'd our Spears to spades,
Let it not turn out pens to ploughs , or worse;
By Learning some should live as some by Trades
In blessed S TATES , that would incurre no curse.
Where Vertue is not rais'd, and Vice supprest
There all to Vice will run: and so to wrack:
For, there the worst shall Lord it ore the best;
And where that is, all goes to utter sack
Reward , and Punishment (like Armes of Steel)
Doe still uphold each K ING -upholding S TATE :
For, neither wants, but it begins to reel;
But, both imploy'd stands sure in spight of Hale ,
Then may thy H OPES , wing'd by thy vertuous Muse,
Dear Slyvester , expect some cherishment,
In this blest State , that still those Armes will use,
To stay her Grace , and grace her Government
But, if thy paines acquire but pure renowne ,
Thou art Christs Image, crost for Glorious crown

Beneficium dando accipit, qui digno dedit

The unfained lover of thine Art, honesty, and vertue.