Selected quad for the lemma: truth_n
Text snippets containing the quad
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A03513
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Achilles shield Translated as the other seuen bookes of Homer, out of his eighteenth booke of Iliades. By George Chapman Gent.; Iliad. Book 18. English. Chapman. Selections
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Homer.; Chapman, George, 1559?-1634.
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1598
(1598)
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STC 13635; ESTC S106158
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13,144
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30
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The conflict ioynd betwixt them flew debate Disorderd Tumult and exitial Fate Here was one taken with wounds bleeding greene And here one pale and yeelding no wound seene Another slaine drawne by the strengthles heeles From the red slaughter of the ruthles steeles And he that slew him on his shoulders wearing His bloodieweedes as trophies of his daring Like men aliue they did conuerse in fight And tyrde on death with mutuall appetite He carude besides a soft and fruitfull field Brode and thrice new tild in that heauenly shield Where many plowmen turnd vp here and there The earth in furrowes and their soueraigne neere They striu'd to worke and euery furrow ended A bowle of sweetest wine hee still extended To him that first had done then turnde they hand Desirous to dispatch that peece of land Deep and new earde black grew the plow with mould Which lookt like blackish earth though forgd of gold And this he did with miracle adorne Then made he grow a field of high-sprung corne In which did reapers sharpned sickles plie Others their handfulles falne confusedly Laid on the ridge together others bound Their gatherd handfulles to sheaues hard and round Three binders were appointed for the place And at their heeles did children gleane apace Whole armefulles to the binders ministring Amongst all these all silent stood their king Vpon a balke his Scepter in his hand Glad at his heart to see his yeeldie land The herraldes then the haruest feast prepare Beneath an Oke far off and for their fare A mightie Oxe was slaine and women drest Store of white cakes and mixt the labourers feast In it besides a vine yee might behold Loded with grapes the leaues were all of gold The bunches blacke and thicke did through it growe And siluer props sustainde them from below About the vine an azure dike was wrought And about it a hedge of tinne he brought One path went through it through the which did passe The vintagers when ripe their vintage was The virgines then and youthes childishly wise For the sweet fruit did painted cuppes deuise And in a circle bore them dauncing round In midst whereof a boy did sweetly sound His siluer harpe and with a piercing voyce Sung a sweete song when each youth with his choice Triumphing ouer earth quicke daunces treades A heard of Oxen thrusting out their heades And bellowing from their stalles rushing to feed Neere a swift flood raging and crownd with reed In gold and tinne he carued next the vine Foure golden heardsemen following heard-dogsni Waiting on them in head of all the heard To my admired and soule-loued friend Mayster of all essentiall and true knowledge M. Harriots TO you whose depth of soule measures the height And all dimensions of all workes of weight Reason being ground structure and ornament To all inuentions graue and permanent And your cleare eyes the Spheres where Reason moues This Artizan this God of rationall loues Blind Homer in this shield and in the rest Of his seuen bookes which my hard hand hath drest In rough integuments I send for censure That my long time and labours deepe extensure Spent to conduct him to our enuious light In your allowance may receiue some right To their endeuours and take vertuous heart From your applause crownd with their owne desert Such crownes suffice the free and royall mind But these subiected hangbyes of our kind These children that will neuer stand alone But must be nourisht with corruption Which are our bodies that are traitors borne To their owne crownes their soules betraid to scorne To gaudie insolence and ignorance By their base fleshes frailties that must daunce Prophane attendance at their states and birth That are meere seruants to this seruile earth These must haue other crownes for meedes then merits Or sterue themselues and quench their fierie spirits Thus as the soule vpon the flesh depends Vertue must wait on wealth we must make friends Of the vnrighteous Mammon and our sleights Must beare the formes of fooles or Parasites Rich mine of knowledge ô that my strange muse Without this bodies nourishment could vse Her zealous faculties onely t'aspire Instructiue light from your whole Sphere of fire But woe is me what zeale or power soeuer My free soule hath my body will be neuer Able t'attend neuer shal I enioy Th'end of my happles birth neuer employ That smotherd feruour that in lothed embers Lyes swept from light and no cleare howre remembers O had your perfect eye Organs to pierce Into that Chaos whence this stiffled verse By violence breakes where Gloweworme like doth shine In nights of sorrow this hid soule of mine And how her genuine formes struggle for birth Vnder the clawes of this fowle Panther earth Then vnder all those formes you should discerne My loue to you in my desire to learne Skill and the loue of skill do euer kisse No band of loue so stronge as knowledge is Which who is he that may not learne of you Whom learning doth with his lights throne endow What learned fields pay not their flowers t'adorne Your odorous wreathe compact put on and worne By apt and Adamantine industrie Proposing still demonstrate veritie For your great obiect farre from plodding gaine Or thirst of glorie when absurd and vayne Most students in their whole instruction are But in traditions meere particular Leaning like rotten howses on out beames And with true light fade in themselues like dreames True learning hath a body absolute That in apparant sence it selfe can suite Not hid in ayrie termes as if it were Like spirits fantastike that put men in feare And are but bugs form'd in their fowle conceites Nor made forsale glas'd with sophistique sleights But wrought for all times proofe strong to bide prease And shiuer ignorants like Hercules On their owne dunghils but our formall Clearkes Blowne for profession spend their soules in sparkes Fram'de of dismembred parts that make most show And like to broken limmes of knowledge goe When thy true wisedome by thy learning wonne Shall honour learning while there shines a Sunne And thine owne name in merite farre aboue Their Timpanies of state that armes of loue Fortune or blood shall lift to dignitie Whome though you reuerence and your emperie Of spirit and soule be seruitude they thinke And but a beame of light broke through a chink To all their watrish splendor and much more To the great Sunne and all thinges they adore In staring ignorance yet your selfe shall shine Aboue all this in knowledge most diuine And all shall homage to your true-worth owe You comprehending all that all not you And when thy writings that now errors Night Chokes earth with mistes breake forth like easterne light Showing to euery comprehensiue eye High sectious brawles becalmde by vnitie Nature made all transparent and her hart Gripte in thy hand crushing digested Art In flames vnmeasurde measurde out of it On whose head for her crowne thy soule shall sitte Crownd with Heauens inward brightnes shewing cleare What true man is and how like gnats appeare O fortune-glossed Pompists and proud Misers That are of Arts such impudent despisers Then past anticipating doomes and skornes Which for selfe grace ech ignorant subornes Their glowing and amazed eyes shall see How short of thy soules strength my weake words be And that I do not like our Poets preferre For profit praise and keepe a squeaking stirre With cald on muses to vnchilde their braines Of winde and vapor lying still in paynes Of worthy issue but as one profest In nought but truthes deare loue the soules true rest Continue then your sweet iudiciall kindnesse To your true friend that though this lumpe of blindnes This skornefull this despisde inuerted world Whose head is furie-like with Adders curlde And all her bulke a poysoned Porcupine Her stings and quilles darting at worthes deuine Keepe vnder my estate with all contempt And make me liue euen from my selfe exempt Yet if you see some gleames of wrastling fire Breake from my spirits oppression shewing desire To become worthy to pertake your skill Since vertues first and chiefe steppe is to will Comfort me with it and proue you affect me Though all the rotten spawne of earth reiect me For though I now consume in poesie Yet Homer being my roote I can not die But lest to vse all Poesie in the sight Of graue philosophie shew braines too light To comprehend her depth of misterie I vow t'is onely strong necessitie Gouernes my paines herein which yet may vse A mans whole life without the least abuse And though to rime and giue a verse smooth feet Vttering to vulgar pallattes passions sweet Chaunce often in such weake capriccious spirits As in nought else haue tollerable merits Yet where high Poesies natiue habite shines From whose reflections flow eternall lines Philosophy retirde to darkest caues She can discouer and the proud worldes braues Answere in any thing but impudence With circle of her general excellence For ample instance Homer more then serueth And what his graue and learned Muse deserueth Since it is made a Courtly question now His competent and partles iudge be you If these vaine lines and his deserts arise To the high serches of your serious eyes As he is English and I could not chuse But to your Name this short inscription vse As well assurde you would approue my payne In my traduction and besides this vayne Excuse my thoughts as bent to others ames Might my will rule me and when any flames Of my prest soule break forth to their own show Thinke they must hold engrauen regard of you Of you in whom the worth of all the Graces Due to the mindes giftes might embrew the faces Of such as skorne them and with tiranous eye Contemne the sweat of vertuous industrie But as ill lines new fild with incke vndryed An empty Pen with their owne stuffe applied Can blot them out so shall their wealth-burst wombes Be made with emptie Penne their honours tombes FINIS