Classic Poem

O you most hopefull Prince, not as you are,
But as you may be, doe I giue these lines :
That when your iudgement shall arriue so farre,
As t'ouer-looke th'intricate designes
Of vncontented man : you may beholde
With what encounters greatest fortunes close,
What dangers, what attempts, what manifolde
Incumbrances ambition vndergoes :
How hardly men digest felicitie ;
How to th'intemprate, to the prodigall,
To wantonnesse, and vnto luxurie,
Many things want, but to ambition all.
And you shall finde the greatest enemie
That man can haue, is his prosperitie.
Here shall you see how men disguise their ends,
And plant bad courses vnder pleasing shewes ;
How well presumptions broken wayes defends,
Which cleere-eyed Iudgement grauely doth disclose,
Here shall you see how th'easie multitude
Transported, take the partie of distresse ;
And onely out of passions doe conclude,
Not out of iudgement, of mens practises ;
How pow'rs are thought to wrong, that wrongs debar,
And Kings not held in danger, though they are.
These ancient representments of times past
Tell vs that men haue, doe, and alwayes runne
The selfe same line of action, and doe cast
Their course alike, and nothing can be done,
Whilst they, their ends, and nature are the same :
But will be wrought vpon the selfe same frame.
This benefit, most noble prince, doth yeeld
The sure records of Bookes, in which we finde
The tenure of our State, how it was held
By all our Ancestors, and in what kinde
We holde the same, and likewise how in the end
This fraile possession of felicitie,
Shall to our late posteritie descend
By the same Patent of like destinis.
In them we find that nothing can accrew
To man, and his condition that is new.
Which images here figured in this wise
I leaue vnto your more mature suruay,
Amongst the vowes that others sacrifice
Vnto the hope of you, that you one day
Will giue grace to this kinde of Harmonie
For know, great Prince, when you shall come to know
How that it is the fairest Ornament
Of worthy times, to haue those which may shew
The deedes of power, and liuely represent
The actions of a glorious Gouernement.
And is no lesser honor to a Crowne
T'haue Writers then haue Actors of renowne.
And though you haue a Swannet of your owne,
Within the bankes of Douen meditates
Sweet notes to you, and vnto your renowne
The glory of his Musicke dedicates,
And in a lofty tune is set to sound
The deepe reports of sullen Tragedies :
Yet may this last of me be likewise found
Amongst the vowes that others sacrifice
Vnto the hope of you, that you one day
May grace this now neglected Harmonie,
Which set vnto your glorious actions, may
Record the same to all posteritie.
Though I the remnant of another time
Am neuer like to see that happinesse,
Yet for the zeale that I haue borne to rime
And to the Muses, wish that good successe
To others trauell, that in better place,
And better comfort, they may be incheerd
Who shall deserue, and who shall haue the grace
To haue a Muse held worthy to be heard.
And know, sweet Prince, when you shall come to know,
That tis not in the pow'r of Kings to raise
A spirit for Verse that is not borne thereto,
Nor are they borne in euery Princes dayes :
For late Eliza's raigne gaue birth to more
Then all the Kings of England did before .
And it may be, the Genius of that time
Would leaue to her the glory in that kind,
And that the vtmost powers of English Rime
Should be within her peacefull raigne confin'd ;
For since that time our Songs could neuer thriue,
But laine as if forlorne ; though in the prime
Of this new raising season, we did striue
To bring the best we could vnto the time.
And I although among the latter traine,
And least of those that sung unto this land,
Haue borne my part, though in an humble straine,
And pleasd the gentler that did vnderstand :
And neuer had my harmelesse pen at all
Distain'd with any loose immodestie,
Nor euer noted to be toucht with gall,
To aggrauate the worst mans infamie.
But still haue done the fairest offices
To vertue and the time, yet naught preuailes,
And all our labours are without successe,
For either fauour or our vertue failes.
And therefore since I haue out-liu'd the date
Of former grace, acceptance and delight,
I would my lines late-borne beyond the fate
Of her spent line, had neuer come to light.
So had I not beene tax'd for wishing well,
Nor now mistaken by the censuring Stage,
Nor, in my fame and reputation fell,
Which I esteeme more then what all the age
Or th'earth can giue. But yeeres hath done this wrong,
To make me write too much, and liue too long.
And yet I grieue for that vnfinisht frame,
Which thou deare Muse didst vow to sacrifice,
Vnto the bed of Peace, and in the same
Designe our happinesse to memorize,
Must, as it is, remaine : though as it is,
It shall to after-times relate my zeale
To Kings, and vnto right, to quietnesse,
And to the vnion of the Common-weale.
But this may now seeme a superfluous vow,
We haue this peace ; and thou hast sung enow,
And more then will be heard, and then as good
As not to write, as not be vnderstood.