Classic Poem

M ARY , Countesse Dowager of Pembrooke; and, E LIZABETH , Lady Cary , (Wife of Sr. Henry Cary .) Glories of Women.

The Muses, sacrifice; I , consecrate;
  They, unto Heau'n; I, to you, heau'nly T HREE :
They, my poore Heart: I, my Loues rick Estate,
  together with my Rimes, that rarer be .

But what can be more rare than richest Loue,
  sith so rich Loue is, now, so rarely found?
Yes; measur'd-words, that, out of measure, moue
 the Soule to Heau'n, from Hel that's most profound!

A vexèd Soule for Follies, that betray
  the Soule to Death, some call the nether Hell;
Thence moue my Measures; and, doe make such way ,
  that they all Lets to giue way, doe compell .

These Rarities, which my poore Soule confines ,
  her treble -Zeale to you ( three Graces) brings
For Grace, as glorious as the Sunne that shines
 ( as bright, as chearefull) on inferiour Things.

Such Grace you haue, by Vertue, and by Fate,
  as makes you Three, the Glory of these Times;
The M VSES Darlings, and their Chaires of S TATE ;
 Shapers and Soules of all Soule-charming Rimes!

B EDFORD the beaming glory of thy H OVSE
  that makes iTheau'n on Earth; thy Worths are such
As all our Wits make most miraculous ,
  because thy W IT and W ORTH doe worke so much.

For , W IT and S PRIT , in Beauties Lieury ,
  doe still attend thine all-commanding E YES ;
And, in th' Achiuements of thine Ingenie,
  the glosse thereof, like Orr, on Sable lies .

The Wombe that bare thee, made thy noble Breast
  abound with Bountie, yer thou knew'st thy Fate;
Where furnisht was that Bountie with the best
  of Honors Humors, giuing Her the Mate.

For which, all Poets Plowes ( their Pennes ) doe plow
  the fertil st Grounds of A RT : and in the same .
Thy still-increasing Praises ( thicke ) doe sow ,
  to yeeld Æternitie thy Crop of Fame!

P EMBROKE , ( a Paragon of Princely P ARTS ,
  and, of that Part that most commends the Muse,
Great Mistresse of her Greatnesse and the A RTS .)
 Phœbus and Fate makes great, and glorious!

A Worke of Art and Grace ( from Head and Heart
  that makes a Worke of Wonder) thou hast done:
Where Art, seemes Nature; Nature, seemeth Art;
  and , Grace in both, makes all out-shine the Sunne.

So sweet a Descant on so sacred Ground
  no Time shall cease to sing to Heau'nly Lyres:
For, when the Spheares shall cease their gyring sound ,
  the Angels then, shall chaunt it in their Quires.

No Time can vaunt that ere it did produce
  from femine Perfections, so sweet Straines
As still shall serue for Men and Angels use;
  then both, past Time, shall sing thy Praise & Paines.

My Hand once sought that glorious W ORKE to grace ,
  and writ, in Gold, what thou, in Incke, hadst writ
But Gold and highest Art are both too base
  to Character the glory of thy Wit!

And didst thou thirst for Fame ( as all Men doe )
  thou would'st, by all meanes, let it come to light;
But though thou cloud it, as doth Enuy too ,
  yet through both Clouds it shines, it is so bright!

Where bright D ESERT fore-goes; a spurre is Praise
  to make it runne to all that glorifies:
Of such Desert, if ought eclipse the Rayes,
  it euer shames F AMES publicke Notaries.

C ARY ( of whom Minerua stands in feare ,
  lest she, from her, should get A RTS Regencie)
Of A RT so moues the great-all-mouing Spheare,
  that eu'ry Orbe of Science moues thereby .

Thou mak'st Melpomen proud, and my Heart great
  of such a Pupill, who, in Buskin fine ,
With Feete of State, dost make thy Muse to mete
  the Scenes of Syracuse and Palestine.

Art, Language; yea, abstruse and holy Tongues
  thy Wit and Grace acquir'd thy Fame to raise ,
And still to fill thine owne, and others Songs;
 thine, with thy Parts, and others, with thy praise.

Such neruy Limbes of Art, and Straines of Wit
 Times past ne'er knew the weaker Sexe to haue ,
And Times to come, will hardly credit it .
 if thus thou giue thy Workes both Birth and Graue.

Yee Hea'nly Trinary, that swayes the State
  of A RTS whole Monarchie, and Wits Empire,
Liue long your Likes ( unlike ) to animate
 ( for all Times light ) to blow at your Arts Fire.

For , Time now swels , ( as with some poysonous Weede )
  with Paper-Quelkchose, neuer smelt in Scholes;
So, made for Follies Excesse, for, they feede
  but fatten not; if fatten, tis but Fooles.

What strange Chimeraes Wit, ( nay Folly) frames
  in these much stranger Times, weake Wits I affright
Besides themselues I for , Wits Celestiall Flames,
  now spend much Oyle, yet lend but little Light!

And what they lend, is ( oft ) as false, as small;
  so ( to small purpose ) they great Paines doe take
But to be scorn'd, or curst, or loth'd of all
  that by their false light foulely doe mistake .

For, to giue Light that leads light Men awry .
  is Light that leades to Darknesse; then such Light
Were better out, than still be in the Eye
  of Men, that ( so ) doe, lightly, runne from R IGHT .

For, while such Light doth shine, the Multitude
 ( like Moates in Sunne) with their Confusion plaies ,
Not weighing, o'er their Heads, how Errors Cloud
 the while, doth threat, t o'er-whelme them many waies.

By pouring downe the Haile of hard Conceits
 ' gainst God and Goodnesse, that doe better both
Or else, by saddest Showres of darke Deceits,
  borne as the fickle Winde of Fancy blowth .

By Lightning; that doth still more hurt than good;
  while Errors Thunder-claps make sowre the sweet
( Yea, sweetest ) drinke of Nature ( our best Bloud)
  that doth with Melancholy-madnesse meet .

By all that may ( at least ) giue some offence
  to complete Vertue, Wisedome, Wit, and Art:
For , Ignorance, hath oft more Insolence,
  than puffing Knowledge to take Errors part .

Disease of Times, of Mindes, Men, Arts and Fame,
  vaine Selfe-conceit, how dost thou ply the Presse
Of People and the Printer, with thy shame,
  clad in the Coate of Fustian-foolishnesse?

For, all that but pretend I haue Art or Wit,
  so trouell with Conceit, amisse conceiu'd ,
That, till the Presse deliuer them of It,
  their Throwes are such as make them Wit bereau'd!

Yet, if the Issue of their crazèd Braines
  doe chance ( though monstrously ) to come to light ,
Lord I how they hugge it, like the Ape that straines
 her young so hard, in Iove, as kils it quite.

What Piles of Pamphlets, and more wordy Bookes
  now farse the World I wherein, if Wisdome looke ,
She shall see nothing worthy of her Lookes,
  unlesse the idle Likenesse of a Booke!

But W IT'S most wrong'd by priuiledge of Schoole:
  for , Learnings Drunkards now so ply the Pot
( Of Incke I meane ) Posteririe to foole ,
  as shames Wits Name although they touch him not .

Some that but looke into Diuinitie
  with their left Eye, with their left Hand do write
What they obserue, to wrong Posteritie,
  that by this Ignis fatuis roame by Night.

Some search the Corpes of all Philosophie,
  and eu'ry Nerue and Veyne so scrible on
That where it should be Truths Anatomie,
  they make it Errors rightest Scheleton.

Some others on some other Faculties
  still ( fondly ) labour, but to be in Print:
( O poore Ambition!) so, their Folly flies
  abroad the World like Slips, that shame their Mint.

But Poesic ( dismall Poesie) thou art
  most subject to this sou'raigne Sottishnesse;
So, there's good Cause thou shouldst be out of heart,
  sith all, almost, now put thee vnder Presse.

And Wit lies shrowded so in Paper-sheetes,
  bound Hand and Foote with Cords of Vanities:
That ( first ) with all Obscuritie it meetes ;
 so, tis impossible it ere should rise.

But you Three Graces, ( whom our Muse would grace .
  had she that glory, that our Philip had ,
That was the Beautie of Arts Soule and Face)
  you presse the Presse with little you haue made .

No, you well know the Presse so much is wrong'd ,
  by abiect Rimers that greaThearts doe scorne
To haue their Measures with such Nombers throng'd
  as are so basely got, conceiu'd, and borne.

And, did my Fortunes not expose me to
  contempt of Greatnesse, sith so meane I am ,
I should, with Greatnesse, greatly scorne it too ,
  sith Fame for Versing, now, is held but Shame.

But, in that Veyne lies not that Maladie;
  no , It is found, and holds Arts purest Bloud,
Which therein flowes to each Extremitie
  of Arts whole Body, for the publike-good.

Here hence it came, that diuine Oracles
 (Apollos Dialect, great God of Art)
Were still exprest in measur'd Sillables.
  sith squarest Thoughts most roundly they impart .

In which respect it's meet'st to make Records
  of memorable Accidents of Time:
Of Princes Liues, and Actions of great Lords:
  which Poets, first, did Chronicle in Rime .

Nay, they were first that Natures Workes obseru'd ,
  and Bookt it out for young Philosophers;
Yea, they were first, by whom, is still conseru'd
  the knowledge of Hean'ns motions, and the Starres.

Who sought to finde each Substance separate,
  and, in their curious Search found what they were ,
And, to the Life, did them delineate
  on Arts faire Front, that there, more faire, appeare!

Then , Poets were the first Philosophers;
  first State-obseruers, and Historians:
First Metaphisickes, and Astronomers,
  yea, first Great clarks, and Astrologlans.

And, therefore were they, in the Worlds first Age
  pow'rfull'st Perswaders, whose sweet Eloquence:
( That euer, staidly, ranne from holy Rage )
  was the first Rethoricke sprung from Saplence.

For, should we giue this Empresse buTher due,
 ( Empresse of speech that Monarchizeth Eares)
We must confesse she can all Soules subdue ,
  to Passions causing Toy, or forcing Teares.

It is a Speech of most Maiesticke state ,
  that makes Reas'ns Forces not to be with-stood
The Tethys, that doth still predominate
  th outragious Ocean of our boyling bloud!

For, it doth flow more fluent from the Tongue,
 and, in the flowing, carries all with it,
Which but attempts the Torrent to impugne
  and Rockes of Art remoues, to Seas of Wit!

Succinet it is, and easier to retaine
 ( which with our Wits and Wils doth best agree )
Than Prose, lesse subiect to iust Measures Raigne
  for , Prose from Measures Rule is ( loosely ) free .

And, for it's ofter vs'd, it cloyes the Eare;
  nor so compos'd of Measures Musicall
And not allow'd that Beautie Verse must beare ,
  nor yet the Cadence so Harmonicall .

It's not adornd with choise of such rich Words,
  which heau'nly Poesie gracefully doth beare;
Nor licens'd that fine phrase, Art Verse affords ,
  then to diuinest Spirits it should be deare ;

For, tis the Honie of all Rethoricks Flow'rs ,
  the Quintessence of Art, and Soule of Wit;
Right spirit of Words, true phrase of Heau'nly Pow'rs ,
  and, in a Word; for Heau'n , all-onely, fit .

But Time these Times, it seemes, in Malice chose ,
  to mischiefe Poets; for, it ne'er brought forth
To this wilde World ( mad-merry still in Prose)
  such worthy Poets, yet so little worth .

And, how should they be otherwise? for, they
  can twist no Lines, that hold eternall Rime,
On Rockes of Art; but much Time turnes away;
  so, get but Fame and Famine in that Time.

For , Time they spend in that which none regards ,
  but such as would, but can no Larges giue ;
While other Arts, more poore, get rich Rewards;
  so , Phœbus Sonnes, by Luster, onely, liue!

The Painter, that is Master of his Skill,
  and but with Earthly Coulors paints ( alone )
Meere Formes of Beasts, hath oft Reward at Will ,
  but , Poets Paintings, though diuine, haue none .

But Painters, sith to Poets they draw nye ,
 ( saue that they draw inne Gold ( unlike them ) still )
And, paint so liuely in dumbe Poesie,
  I wish their gaine as great as is their Skill.

For , Pictures speake, although they still be dumbe
 and what they cannot speake, they recompence
With Demonstration; so, can Soules o'er-come ,
  as soone by silence, as by Eloquence.

But Trades ( that doe but Case the Corps aright
  with our owne Cost, ( which oft they teith, at least ))
But aske and haue, when they that clothe the Sp'rit
  in Vertues Robes, are paid but with a least.

Which Iesters Memories I wish may be
 ' owng Trencher-Buffons, Fooles, and Naturals,
Preseru'd by Poets for Posteritie
  to weepe or laugh at, as the Humor fals .

For , Poets best preserue the fame or shame
  of good or bad: sith with their pow'rfull Penne,
They giue the Vertuous an immortall Name;
  but, make the vicious liue still loth'd of Men.

No earthly Matter ( howsoeuer wrought ,
  though it ( withall ) be rais'd aboue the Clouds)
Can Fame vphold, but it will fall to nought:
  for , Earth, in Time, her brauest Buildings shrouds .

Those Threatners of the Skye, proud Ilium,
 Byrza of Carthage, Towre of Babilon,
Where are they now, with all their state, become?
are they not all, to all Confusion gone?

Where's Neroes golden-palace, that drew drye
 ( had it beene liquid ) freest Founts of Gold?
Asinius Pollioes Court of Liberty,
 so rare for state, are now turn'd both to Molde.

Nay, that proud Pyramed is come to nought,
  that, pight neere Memphis seem'd to proppe the Skie,
Whereon, three-hundred-threescore-thousand wrought
 full twenty Yeeres, before it rought so hie!

Some Authors say, the Ground worke of the same
  tooke up an hundred Furlongs in the Round;
Which higher rose, aspiring, like a Flame,
  yet now of this no Sparke is to be found .

Much lesse doth any Author testifie
  what King ( of Fame desirous ) rais'd the same ;
A most iust plague to checke their vanitie,
  that so in Lime and Stone, entombe their Name.

What rests of Scaurus Amphitheater ,
  than which, I wot not whether all the Cost
Caligula and Nero did conferre
  on all their Buildings, most admir'd, were most!

The Scene whereof, three Stages did containe ,
  whereon three hundred Collumnes and threescore
Of rarest Marble ( deckt with many a Veyne
  of orient Coulors) held up eyther Floore.

Which Pillers, eight and thirty Foote in height ,
  were each but of one Piece, in each Degree;
Wherein an hundred thousand people might
  be plac'd, secure, the Spectacles to see .

And ( in the midst ) the Stage was all of Glasse,
  made thicke to beare the Actors waight thereon ;
Three Thousand Copper-statues all did grace ,
  besides some Gold, and some refulgent Stone!

And onely for a Month ( no longer then
  the Playes were playing ) was it to endure :
Yet, being but a Romane Cittizen
  that made it such his Fame still sutes his pow'r .

The rather sith he, to adorue the Muse,
  this Cost bestow'd; or else ( perhaps ) his Fame
Had beene, with Neroes, much, but monstrous;
  the Muse alone then, well renownes a Name.

Yet, now her Agents are to poore become
  in Minde and state, that, for an abiect Fee,
They'l honor ( to their shame) but HONORS skum ,
  yea, Deifie a Diu'll, if he be free .

But strang Necessitie constraines the same ,
 ( vs Israels Singer did the Shew-bread eate
By like constraint ) yet, they are Lords of FAME ,
 and, where they charge with it, there's no retreit.

For, though Time-present see it mis-bestow'd ,
  yet if Wits Engine it doe rarely raise ,
Of Times to come. It shall be so allow'd ,
  that both the prais'd and praiser, they will praise!

Yet, speake a Language few doe apprehend,
  so few affect it: for, wee nought affect ,
But what our Vnderstandings comprehend;
  no maruell then the most this Art neglect .

Nay, were't but so yet Poesie still should finde
  some grace with some, whom Art makes great, of vile
But now such thinke, it but distracts the Minde;
  for broken-Braines such great-Ones Poets stile .

Vnfit for serious use, unfit for all
  that tends to perfect Mans Felicitie ;
Light, idle, vaine, and what we worse may call ,
  yea, though it were the Skumme of Vanitie.

And would these Truths were all true Falacies,
 ( though Poets need to none of these incline
For, personall faults are not the Faculties,
  that is not onely faultlesse, but diuine.)

But tis too true in many that professe
  the Art; though Leaden Lumpes; for, none can swim
In Helicon without that Happinesse.
  which from his Mothers Wombe, he brought with him .

And, tis as true, if Grace and Gouernment,
  doe not containe the Minde, in Raptures high ,
But it, of Wit, may make so large extent,
  as it may cracke the strongest Ingenie.

So may it doe in other Mysteries,
 and that which we most praise, may most impeach:
Diuinitie it selfe may soon'st doe this,
  if Grace with hold not from too high a Reach .

Then, let this Arte ( which is the Angels speech )
 ( for, to the High st they speake in nought but Hymnes,
Which, in the Wombe, they doe true Poets teach )
  be freed from speech, that buTher glory dimmes .

Then let the ignorant-great highly-base
 reuile her ne'er so much, they but bewray
Their owne Defects thereby, and giue but grace
  to Folly, darkned with Arts glorious Raie.

But no great Spirit, ( whose temper is diuine ,
  and dwels in reall -G REATNES ) but adores
The Heau'nly M VSE , that in Arts Heau'n doth shine
 like Phœbus, lending Light to other Lores.

To you therefore ( that Arte predominate ,
  great in your Vertue, Skill, and Fortunes too )
My Muse held meet'st these Flights to consecrate ,
  sith you most grace the Muse in most you doe .

And as the Sunne doth glorifie each Thing
 ( howeuer base ) on which he deignes to smile
So, your cleare Eyes doe giue resplendishing
  to all their Obiects be they ne'er so vile
Then, looke on These and Me with such a Glance,
That both may shine through your bright Countenance.
The vnfained louer ,
honorer , and admirer
of your rare Perfections ,
Iohn Dauies of Hereford.