Classic Poem

To the most truly noble knight, worthy of all praise, loue, and honor, Sr Iohn Harington, onely sonne to the noble Lord, the Lord Harington.

Should I depaint thee with those shades and lights
(For rightest coulors will but wrong the life)
That might but touch thy vertues' depths and heights:
Arte with her selfe would striue to bee at strife:
For should I touch thy minde (intangible,
Fraught with whateuer makes or good or great,
As learning, language, artes immensible,
Witt, courage, courtesie; and all compleat)
I should but straine my skill to do thee wrong
Sith Arte itselfe may faile to do thee right;
All thy perfections are so great, so stronge,
As are the paires that gane those parts such might
Thou blest wast in thy tutor too; (as was
The worlds first conqueror) for such was hee
As being dead, his woorth (that price did passe)
Still liues in mindes that highest valued bee.
Tovy, although the mother of vs all
Re-getts thee in her wombe; thou filst her so
With glory of thy vertues, that shee shall
Preserue thy name till she re-chaos'd go
To purging-flames; yet they (with voice diuine)
Shall thunder forth thy pupills fame, and thine.