Read Ebook: The Complete Poems of Sir John Davies. Volume 2 of 2. by Davies John Sir Grosart Alexander Balloch Editor

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Ebook has 343 lines and 54455 words, and 7 pages

IN DACUM. 45.

Dacus with some good colour and pretence, Tearmes his love's beauty "silent eloquence:" For she doth lay more colour on her face Than ever Tully us'd his speech to grace.

IN MARCUM. 46.

Why dost thou, Marcus, in thy misery, Raile and blaspheame, and call the heauens unkind? The heauens doe owe no kindnesse unto thee, Thou hast the heauens so little in thy minde; For in thy life thou neuer usest prayer But at primero, to encounter faire.

MEDITATIONS OF A GULL. 47.

AD MUSAM. 48.

Peace, idle Muse, haue done! for it is time, Since lousie Ponticus enuies my fame, And sweares the better sort are much to blame To make me so well knowne for my ill rime: Yet Bankes his horse, is better knowne then he. So are the Cammels and the westerne hogge, And so is Lepidus his printed Dog: Why doth not Ponticus their fames enuie? Besides, this Muse of mine, and the blacke feather Grew both together fresh in estimation: And both growne stale, were cast away together: What fame is this that scarce lasts out a fashion? Onely this last in credit doth remaine, That from henceforth, each bastard cast-forth rime, Which doth but savour of a libell vaine, Shall call me father, and be thought my crime; So dull, and with so little sence endu'd, Is my grose-headed Judge, the multitude.

lost it. Now for myself: some fooles may judge That at the name of Lepidus I grudge: No sure; so far I think it from disgrace, I wisht it cleare to me and to my race. Lepus, or Lepos, I in both haue part; That in my name I beare, this in mine heart. But Momus, I perswade myself that no man Will deigne thee such a name, English or Roman. Ile wage a but of Sack, the best in Bristo, Who cals me Lepid, I will call him Tristo."

I tooke the wall, one thrust me rudely by, And tould me the King's way did open lye. I thankt him y^ he did me so much grace, to take the worse, leave me the better place; For if by th' owners wee esteeme of things, the wall's the subjects, but the way's the King's.

Westminster is a mill that grinds all causes, but grinde his cause for mee there, he y^ list: For by demures and errours, stayes and clauses, the tole is oft made greater then the grist.

He that doth aske St. James they say, shall speed: O y^ Kinge James would answere to my need.

NOTE.

TO HIS GOOD FREINDE S^ ANTH. COOKE.

Here my Camelion Muse her selfe doth chaunge to diuers shapes of gross absurdities, and like an Antick mocks w^ fashion straunge the fond admirers of lewde gulleries. Your iudgement sees w^ pitty, and w^ scorne The bastard Sonnetts of these Rymers bace, W^ in this whiskinge age are daily borne To their own shames, and Poetrie's disgrace. Yet some praise those and some perhappes will praise euen these of myne: and therefore thes I send to you that pass in Courte yo^ glorious dayes; Y^ if some rich rash gull these Rimes commend Thus you may sett this formall witt to schoole, Vse yo^ owne grace, and begg him for a foole.

J. D.

M^ Dauyes.

Minor Poems.

Long haue I liu'd in Court, yet learn'd not all this while, To sel poore sutors, smoke: nor where I hate, to smile: Superiors to adore, Inferiors to despise, To flye from such as fall, to follow such as rise; To cloake a poore desire vnder a rich array, Not to aspire by vice, though twere the quicker way.

My calling is Diuine, and I from God am sent, I will no chop-Church be, nor pay my patron rent, Nor yeeld to sacriledge; but like the kind true mother, Rather will loose all the child, then part it with another; Much wealth, I will not seeke, nor worldly masters serue, So to grow rich and fat, while my poore flock doth sterue.

The Law my calling is, my robe, my tongue, my pen, Wealth and opinion gaine, and make me Iudge of men. The knowne dishonest cause, I neuer did defend, Nor spun out sutes in length, but wisht and sought an end: Nor counsell did bewray, nor of both parties take, Nor euer tooke I fee for which I neuer spake.

I study to vphold the slippery state of man, Who dies, when we haue done the best and all we can. From practise and from bookes, I draw my learn?d skill, Not from the knowne receipt of 'Pothecaries bill. The earth my faults doth hide, the world my cures doth see, What youth, and time effects, is oft ascribde to me.

My trade doth euery thing to euery land supply, Discouer unknowne coasts, strange Countries to ally; I neuer did forestall, I neuer did ingrosse, No custome did withdraw, though I return'd with losse. I thriue by faire exchange, by selling and by buying, And not by Jewish vse, reprisall, fraud, or lying.

Though strange outldish spirits praise towns, and country scorn, The country is my home, I dwel where I was born: There profit and command with pleasure I pertake, Yet do not Haukes and dogs, my sole companions make. I rule, but not oppresse, end quarrels, not maintaine; See towns, but dwel not there, t'abridge my charg or train.

How many things as yet are deere alike to me, The field, the horse, the dog, loue, armes or liberty. I haue no wife as yet, whom I may call mine owne, I haue no children yet, that by my name are knowne. Yet if I married were, I would not wish to thriue, If that I could not tame the veriest shrew aliue.

I only am the man, among all married men, That do not wish the Priest, to be unlinckt agen. And thogh my shoo did wring, I wold not make my mone, Nor think my neighbors chance, more happy then mine own, Yet court I not my wife, but yeeld obseruance due, Being neither fond nor crosse, nor iealous, nor vntrue.

The first of all our Sex came from the side of man, I thither am return'd, from whence our Sex began; I doe not visite oft, nor many, when I doe, I tell my mind to few, and that in counsell too: I seeme not sick in health, nor sullen but in sorrow, I care for somewhat else of, then what to weare to morrow.

I marriage would forsweare, but that I heare men tell, That she that dies a maid, must leade an Ape in Hell; Therefore if fortune come, I will not mock and play, Nor driue the bargaine on, till it be driuen away. Tithes and lands I like, yet rather fancy can, A man that wanteth gold, then gold that wants a man.

See then, the shrine and tapers burning bright, Come, friend, and let vs first ourselues advance, We know our place, and if we haue our right, To all the parish we must leade the dance.

But soft, what means this bold presumptuous maid, To goe before, without respect of vs? Your forwardnesse must now be staide: Where learnd you to neglect your betters thus?

Besides, on all true virgins, at their birth. Nature hath set a crowne of excellence, That all the wiues and widdowes of the earth, Should giue them place, and doe them reuerence?

But Wife and Widdow, if your wits can make, Your state and persons of more worth then mine, Aduantage to this place I will not take; I will both place and priuilege resigne.

Yet if I would be lou'd, lou'd would I be, Like her whose vertue in the bay is seene: Loue to wife fades with satietie, Where loue neuer enioyed is euer greene.

Hence is it that the virgine neuer loues, Because her like she finds not anywhere; For likenesse euermore affection moues, Therefore the maide hath neither loue nor peere.

Or to the Iewell which this vertue had, That men were mad till they might it obtaine, But when they had it, they were twise as mad, Till they were dipossest of it againe.

The perfectest of all created things, The purest gold, that suffers no allay; The sweetest flower that on th' earths bosome springs, The pearle vnbord, whose price no price can pay:

Of loue and fortune both, the Mistresse borne, The soueraigne spirit that will be thrall to none; The spotlesse garment that was neuer worne, The Princely Eagle that still flyes alone.

She sees the world, yet her cleere thought doth take No such deepe print as to be chang'd thereby; As when we see the burning fire doth make, No such impression as doth burne the eye.

Fortune that it might be seene, That she did serue a royall Queene, A franke and royall hand did beare, And cast her fauors euery where. Some toyes fell to my share, which makes me now to sing, There is no fishing to the Sea, nor seruice to the King.

And the Song ended, he vttred this short Speech:

Fortune must now no more in triumph ride, The wheeles are yours that did her Chariot guide.

You thriue, or would, or may, your Lots a Purse Fill it with gold, and you are nere the worse.

Want you a Maske? heere Fortune gives you one, Yet nature giues the Rose and Lilly none.

Blinde Fortune doth not see how faire you be, But giues a glasse that you your selfe may see.

Whether you seeme to weepe, or weepe indeed, This Hand-kerchiefe will stand you well in steed.

Fortune doth send you, hap it well or ill, This plaine gold Ring, to wed you to your will.

Fortune these Gloues to you in challenge sends, For that you loue not fooles that are her friends.

You are in euery point a louer true, And therefore Fortune giues the points to you.

Giue her the Lace that loues to be straight lac'd, So Fortunes little gift is aptly plac'd.

Fortune doth giue this paire of Kniues to you, To cut the thred of loue, if 't be not true.

These Tables may containe your thoughts in part, But write not all, that's written in your heart.

Though you haue Fortunes Garters, you must be More staid and constant in your steps then she.

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