Selected quad for the lemma: england_n
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ID |
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Author |
Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) |
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A01776
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Poëms, by Henry Glapthorn
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Glapthorne, Henry.
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1639
(1639)
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STC 11911; ESTC S103221
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24,348
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72
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instructions of my Muse I know dear friend you 'r so maturely wise You can see vice though cloth'd in the disguise Of vertue and 't is needlesse then to preach Doctrine to you who abler are to teach Than be instructed but my Pen does move Only by true directions of my love From which if you receive the least offence I must appeale to th' Court of Innocence From your harsh Censure since what I have said Was not to chide you Friend but to perswade VErtues reward is Honour and though you Wear no more Titles than descend as due From your brave Ancestors yet to your Blood 'T is an addition Sir to be thought good You whose demeanor bears that equall port You 've won the love not envie of the Court That can observe the forme and Laws of State Gaining mens emulation not their hate That with a noble temper can decide The diffrence 'twixt formalitie and pride That your indifferent actions are as far From b'ing too common as too singular So that with glorious freedome you direct Your Will to what it ought most to affect You in whose Nature as two Suns arise The Attributes of Bountefull and Wise. You that are Valiant as Fames eldest Child Honour yet teach even Valour to be mild You that in brief with certain judgment can Be perfect Courtier yet be perfect Man 'T is no Poetick flattry that does raise My eager Muse up to this height of Praise Big with an holy and Prophetick rage In Fames great Book I in an ample Page Wil fix the Annals of your Worth which shall When other Names are held Apocryphall In that eternall Volume be annext A faire Appendix to that glorious Text. But now Great Sir 't is time that I excuse The too audacious errours of my Muse And by my humble wishes strive to win A full remission for its daring sin May you enjoy what ever Strength and Health Can yeeld of pleasure or unbounded Wealth Can without riot purchase may you bee As free from others envie as y' are free From its desert and may you which long since You had grow great i' th' favour of your Prince May not mischance invade your souls blest peace But may it even as it consumes increase And when decrepid age shall slowly creep Over your Youth and to eternall Sleep Confine your eye-lids may you then expire Blest as a Martyr that does Court the Fire Poets are Prophets Sir and things indeed Happen when they but wish they may succeed Vpon the right Honourable RICHARD Earle of Portland late Lord High Treasurer of ENGLAND ELEGIE HOw dul's my Faith 't would pusle my belief That there could be room left on earth for grief Did not the Worlds great Genius seem to powre Its very eyes out in a plenteous showre As if it meant its moysture should create Another Deluge spight of pow'rfull Fate The Stars are mournfull grown and do conspire With unaccustom'd tears to quench their fire The Sun himselfe looks heavie and puts on In spight of Light a sad privation breath Since Noble PORTLAND's fall whose glorious Was too too precious to bee stolne by Death Grim Tyrant hold thy hand if thou ' lt imploy Thy unresisted Shafts let them destroy Only those petty subjects whom their Fate Never produc'd for Pillars of the State The Kingdome well may spare them and their losse Would rather be a blessing than a crosse There 's multitudes that only seek to bee The ends not raisers of their Familie To whom thy Darts their Patrimony spent Would be most welcome Cures of discontent Ambitious Furie 'T is thy only aime To vanquish those same true born sons of Fame That rise by noble merit such was hee To whom my Muse does pay this Elegie He who though plac'd in Honors highest seat Striv'd rather to be counted Good than Great Into whose Essence all conceiv'd that State Did its own soule even transubstantiate Such were his Counsels so supremely wise They alwaies conquerd where they did advise His Judgement too so strong and so mature What ere it promis'd seem'd to be secure Yet 't was with such a moderation mixt That as on Law so 't was on Conscience fixt All 's actions were so even they nere did force The great mans Envie nor the poor mans Curse Such was his Life so temperate and just It nere knew Malice nor commerc'd with Lust. What suddain trance surrounds me what extreme Passion confines my senses to a Dreame I feele a lazie humour slowly creep Over my Fancie charming it to sleep Or rather that entranc'd it might supply Great PORTLAND's Herse with a fit Elegie Now a Poetick furie brings mee on To mount to Fames eternall Mansion Where upon Marble Seats I did behold Those glorious Worthies so renound of old For prudent Counsels who were held the health The very life and soule o' th' Common-wealth There the mellifluous Cicero did shine Bright with the spoiles of vanquish'd Cataline And as his Motto ore his Throne there hung Arms yeeld to Arts let Swords give place to th' Tongue There Roman Fabius sate who wrought the fall By his delays of Punick Hanuibal 'Mongst other forraigne Statesmen there appears Those of our Nation who for many years Did in ambiguous Fortunes frown and smile Uphold the Fate and Glory of this Isle There that great Marshall Pembroke did sustaine The reeling Pillars of third Henries Raigne And of this our English heaven advance Himselfe the Atlas gainst invading France After a numerous Companie in his Pall And other holy Robes Fame did install Illustrious Morton that compos'd the Jarre Betwixt the House of York and Lancaster There Sackvile Cecill Egerton were plac'd On whom as I stood gazing Fame in hast Approaching did command them to prepare For PORTLAND's welcome to that Theater Of ever-living Honour and to mee Goe sing quoth shee this Worthies Elegie Straight as the Muses Priest I did obey And gan to touch my Instrument when they Leaving their Thrones with an unanimous voice Welcom'd the Sage Lord and did give him choice Which Seat he would accept but modest hee Repaid their Courtesie with Courtesie Till Fame her selfe installd him and did give His merit this Inscription which shall live As his great Name unraz'd Here PORTLAND lies That was as truely Iust as hee was Wise Cautious yet full of Councell Mild yet free From seeking idle Popularitie To Goodmen gentle to the Bad severe Lov'd Vertue for its selfe and not for Feare This Fame inscrib'd and this shall deck his Herse While there is Time or memorie of Verse On Sir Robert Ayton late Secretarie to her Majestie ELEGIE TEares are all Great mens Obsequies when they Break from the glorious prison of their Clay A thousand fluent eyes their losses mourns As if they meant to drowne them in their Urnes If then this sorrow customarie bee How many eyes should bee wept out for thee Admired Ayton every mournfull breath Lamenting thine should sigh it self to death