Classic Poem

Perdam Sapientiam Sapientum.

To the Right Honorable the Lord Windsor .

My Lord,
 Forgive my envie to the World; while I
 Commend those sober thoughts perswade you fly
 The glorious troubles of the Court. For though
 The vale lyes open to each overflow,
 And in the humble shade we gather ill
 And aguish ayres: yet lightnings oftner kill
 Oth' naked heights of mountaines, whereon we
 May have more prospect, not securitie.
 For when with losse of breath, we have orecome
 Some steepe ascent of power, and forc'd a roome
 On the so envi'd hill; how doe our hearts
 Pant with the labour, and how many arts
 More subtle must we practise, to defend
 Our pride from sliding, then we did t'ascend?
 How doth successe delude the mysteries
 And all th' involv'd designements of the wise?
 How doth that Power, our Pollitickes call chance,
 Racke them till they confesse the ignorance
 Of humane wit? Which, when 'tis fortified
 So strong with reason that it doth deride
 All adverse force oth' sudden findes its head
 Intangled in a spiders slender thread.
 Cœlestiall Providence! How thou dost mocke
 The boast of earthly wisdome? On some rocke
 When man hath rais'd a structure, with such art,
 It doth disdaine to tremble at the dart
 Of thunder, or to shrinke oppos'd by all
 The angry winds, it of it selfe doth fall,
 Ev'n in a calme so gentle that no ayre
 Breaths loude enough to stirre a Virgins haire!
 But misery of judgement! Though past times
 Instruct us by th' ill fortune of their crimes,
 And shew us how we may secure our state
 From pittied ruine, by anothers fate;
 Yet we contemning all such sad advice,
 Pursue to build though on a precipice.
  But you (my Lord) prevented by foresight
 To engage your selfe to such an unsafe height,
 And in your selfe both great and rich enough
 Refused t' expose your vessell to the rough
 Vncertaine sea of businesse: whence even they
 Who make the best returne, are forc't to say;
 The wealth we by our worldly traffique gaine,
 Weighes light if ballanc'd with the feare or paine.

Perdam Sapientiam Sapientum.

To the Right Honorable the Lord Windsor .

My Lord,
 Forgive my envie to the World; while I
 Commend those sober thoughts perswade you fly
 The glorious troubles of the Court. For though
 The vale lyes open to each overflow,
 And in the humble shade we gather ill
 And aguish ayres: yet lightnings oftner kill
 Oth' naked heights of mountaines, whereon we
 May have more prospect, not securitie.
 For when with losse of breath, we have orecome
 Some steepe ascent of power, and forc'd a roome
 On the so envi'd hill; how doe our hearts
 Pant with the labour, and how many arts
 More subtle must we practise, to defend
 Our pride from sliding, then we did t'ascend?
 How doth successe delude the mysteries
 And all th' involv'd designements of the wise?
 How doth that Power, our Pollitickes call chance,
 Racke them till they confesse the ignorance
 Of humane wit? Which, when 'tis fortified
 So strong with reason that it doth deride
 All adverse force oth' sudden findes its head
 Intangled in a spiders slender thread.
 Cœlestiall Providence! How thou dost mocke
 The boast of earthly wisdome? On some rocke
 When man hath rais'd a structure, with such art,
 It doth disdaine to tremble at the dart
 Of thunder, or to shrinke oppos'd by all
 The angry winds, it of it selfe doth fall,
 Ev'n in a calme so gentle that no ayre
 Breaths loude enough to stirre a Virgins haire!
 But misery of judgement! Though past times
 Instruct us by th' ill fortune of their crimes,
 And shew us how we may secure our state
 From pittied ruine, by anothers fate;
 Yet we contemning all such sad advice,
 Pursue to build though on a precipice.
  But you (my Lord) prevented by foresight
 To engage your selfe to such an unsafe height,
 And in your selfe both great and rich enough
 Refused t' expose your vessell to the rough
 Vncertaine sea of businesse: whence even they
 Who make the best returne, are forc't to say;
 The wealth we by our worldly traffique gaine,
 Weighes light if ballanc'd with the feare or paine.