Withers Motto
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The source of this document is the Early English Books Online (EEBO-TCP) website. Those books were transcribed in a character for character manner and can be very cumbersome to read since there was no standard spelling during that time. Many spelling variations such as "unlesse", "vnlesse", and "vnles" regularly appear.
This project was conceived to clean up those books as much as possible and make them more accessible to the interested reader, leading to the creation of a massive list of variant spellings and their corrections. This was used to clean up the text, but is of course only as complete as the list itself. Because of the nature of the original transcription, some words have missing characters or places where the original language (e.g., Greek) was not transcribed. This effort does not change that. Be aware that the original transcription can also be faulty and in some cases entire sentences may be missing.
Although this is no substitute for a properly compared, proofed, and scholarly edition, I believe that the result is a document which is far more accessible, particularly for searching for terms using standard spelling. The document has been cleaned and presented in what I hope is a pleasing and useful format for the vast majority of Christian brothers and sisters who just want access to read these spiritually nourishing works.
However, a word of warning: The Puritans were a very diverse group of people and their age was characterized with godliness, but also much upheaval, disputation and strife. They disagreed on many doctrines and some of these works contain less orthodox or Scriptural views than others. The reader is strongly advised to read with discernment, particularly if it is unknown whether author is trustworthy.
This project took a huge amount of time and skill to bring to fruition. I would particularly like to thank David Jonescue for the initial list of Puritans he found on EEBO and the concept behind this project as well as the continuous, unceasing efforts toward seeing this complete. Without his labor, this would not be available. Alex Sarrouf was invaluable in providing the initial list of over 7,000 spelling variations he had identified and corrected, as well as continuing to review more than 16,000 additions to that list for any typos.
Logan West
(with David Jonescue and Alex Sarrouf)
www.puritansearch.org
WITHER'S MOTTO.
Nec habeo, nec Careo, nec Curo.
LONDON printed for John Marriott 1621
[illustration]
The Explanation of the Emblem.
This little
Emblem
here doth represent,
The blest condition, of a man Content.
The
Place
he lies on, is a mighty
Rock:
To show, that He Contemnes and makes a mock
Of
Force,
or
Vnderminers.
We express,
What others think him, by his
Nakednesse.
His
Mantle,
with
Hearts-ease
y wrought doth show,
What He, doth of his own well being, know.
The
Pillar,
on whose
Base,
his head doth rest;
Hath
Fortitude
and
Constancy
expressed.
The
Cornu-Copia
that so near him lies;
Declares, that He enough hath to suffice:
And that He can be pleasd, with what the Fields,
Or what the fruitful Tree, by Nature yealds.
That pleasant
Prospectiue,
in which you see,
Groues, Ryuers
•
ndes,
and
Palaces
there be;
Lies far below Him: and is that, in which,
The truest-happy
Man,
is seldom rich.
The words,
NEC HABEO
he doth there bestow;
And what he means, doth with his finger show.
Above him hover
Angels,
and his
Eye,
He fixing, on the glorious
Heavens
on high;
(From whence a
Ray
into his breast descends)
His other word
NEC CAREO,
thither sends:
To intimate, that He can nothing need,
Whom
Angels
guard, and
God
himself doth feed.
By force, or sly Temptations, to prevail
Both Temporal, and Ghostly
Foes
assail,
His naked person: but, without a wound,
Their
Darts
are broke; or, back on them rebound.
So, with
NEC CURO,
Those he entertains:
And to express, how highly He disdains,
The best Contents, the World afford him may;
A
Globe
Terrestriall, He doth spurn away.
To anybody.
T O recreate myself, after some more serious Studies, I took occasion to exercise my Invention in the illustration of my Motto; which being thus finished, my friends made me believe it was worth the preserving; and grew so importunat for Copies thereof, that I could not deny them. But doubting, lest by often transcribing, it might be much lamed through the Scribes insufficiency (as many things of this nature are) I thought fitting, rather to exemplyfie the same, by the Press, then by the Pen. And to that end, delivered it over to some Stationers, to have only so many Copies, as I intended to bestow.
Yet considering that other men (to whom I meant them not) might peradventure, come to the view of those Lines. I thought it not amiss, by way of Preuention, to remove such Cauills as may be made against me, by those unto whom I am unknown. Not, that I care to give every idle Reader, an account of my Intentions: But to show the Ingenuous, that the Carelesnes expressed in this Motto, proseeds from an vndistempered Care, to make all my Actions, (as near as I can) such, as may be decent, warrantable, and becoming an honest Man: And that those, who shall foolishly seek (from thence) to pick advantages against me: may know, I am too well advised to write anything, which they shall be justly able to interpret, either to my hindrance, or disparagement.
Let me want esteem among all good men, if I purposed (or have any secret desire in me) that any part of this, should be applied to any particular man; but so as everyone ought to apply things unto his own Conscience; and he that believes me not, I fear is guilty. My intent was, to draw the true Picture of mine own heart; that my friends, who knew me outwardly, might have some representation of my inside also. And that, if they liked the form of it, they might (wherein they were defective) fashion their own minds thereunto. But, my principal Intention, was by recording those thoughts to confirm mine own Resolution; and to prevent such alterations, as Time and infirmities, may work upon me. And if there be no more reason infer ed against me, to remove my opinion, then I am yet apprehensive of: I am confidently persuaded, that neither Fear, nor Force shall compel me, to deny anything which I have affirmed in this Poem. For, I had rather be degraded from the greatest Title of Honor that could be given me; then constrained to deny this Motto.
Proud Arrogance (I know) and enough too; will be laid to my charge. But those who both know me, and the necessity of this resolution, will excuse me of it. The rest (if they mis-censure me) are part of those things, I care not for.
The Language is but indifferent; for, I affected Matter more then Words. The Method is none at all: for, I was loath to make a business, of a recreation. And we know, he that rides abroad for his pleasure, is not tied so strictly to keep High-ways, as he that takes a Journey.
If the intermixing of sleight and weighty things together, be offensive to any. Let them understand, that if they well observe it, they shall find a seriousness, even in that which they imagine least momentary. And if they had as well observed the conditions of men, as I have done: they would perceive that the greatest number (like Children which are allured to School with points and Apples) must be drawn on with some frivolous expressions, or else will never listen to the grave precepts of Virtue; which, when they once hear, do many times beget a delight in them, before they be aware.
Many Dishes of meat which we affect not may be so Cookt, that we shall have a good appetit unto them: So, many men who take no pleasure to seek Virtue in grave Treatises of Morallitie, may (perhaps) finding her vnlookt for, masked under the habit of a light Poem, growenamord on her beauty.
The foolish Canterbury Tale in my scourge of Vanity, (which I am now almost ashamed to read over) even that, hath been by some praised for a witty passage: And I have heard diverse, seriously protest, that they have much more feelingly been informed, & moved to detest the Vanity of the humor there scoffed at, by that rude Tale, then they were by the most grave precepts of Philosophy. And that makes me oftentimes affect some things, in regard of their vsefulnesse: which being considered according to the Method of Art, and rules of Schollership, would seem ridiculous.
But I use more words for my Apology then needs: If this will not give you satisfaction, I am sorry I have said so much; and, if you know which way, satisfy yourselves. For, how I am resolved (if you think it worth the taking notise of) the book will tell you. Farewell.
GEO: WITHER.
WITHER'S Motto.
Nec habeo, nec Careo, nec Curo. Nor Have I, nor Want I, nor Care I.
HAh! will they storm? why let thē; who needs care?
Or who dares frown on what the
Muses
dare,
Who when they list, can for a tempest call,
Which thunder louder then their fury shall?
And if men causelessly their power contemn,
Will more then mortal vengeance fling on them?
With thine own trembling spirit, thou didst view
These free-borne lines; that doubtst what may ensue:
For if thou feltst the temper of my soul
And knewst my heart, thou wouldst not fear control.
Do not I know, my honest thoughts are clear
From any private spleen, or malice here?
Do not I know that none will frown at this,
But such as have apparent guiltiness;
Or such as must to shame and ruin run,
As some, once aiming at my fall have done?
And can I fear those Idle scar-crows then?
Those bugg-bear perils, those mere shades of men?
At whose displeasure they for terror sweat,
Whose heart upon the worlds vain love is set?
No; when this
Motto
first, I mine did make,
To me I took it, not for fashions sake:
But that it might express me as I am;
And keep me mindful to be still the same.
Which I resolve to be: For, could the eye
Of other men, within my breast espy
My Resolution, and the Cause thereof;
They durst not at this boldness make a skoffe.
Shall I be fearful of myself to speak;
For doubt some other may exceptions take?
If this Age hold; ere long we shall go near
Of every word of our, to stand in fear.
And (five to one) if any should confess
Those sins in public, which his soul oppress:
Some guilty fellow (moou'd thereat) would take it
Unto himself; and so, a Libell make it.
Nay; We shall hardly be allowd to pray
Against a crying-sin; lest great men may
Suspect, that by a figure we intend
To point out them: and how they do offend.
As I have hope to prosper; e're I will fall
To such a bondage, I will adventure all:
And make the whole world mad, to hear how I
Will fearless write and rail at Villany.
But oh! beware (gray-hayrd discretion says)
The Dog fights well that out of danger plays.
For now, these guilty Times so captious be
That such, as love in speaking to be free;
May for their freedom, to their cost be shent;
How harmless ere they be, in their intent:
And such as of their future peace have care,
Unto the
Times
a little servile are.
Pish; tell not me of
Times,
or danger thus:
To do a villainy is dangerous;
But in an honest action, my heart knows
No more of fears, then dead-men do of blows.
And to be slave to Times, is worse to me
Then to be that, which most men fear to be.
I tell thee
Critike;
whatsoever Thou,
Or any man, of me shall censure now:
They, who for ought here written do accuse,
Or with a mind malicious, tax my
Muse;
Shall nor by day awake, nor sleep by night,
With more contentment, in their glories height;
Then I will do, though they should lay me where
I must in darkness, bolts of Iron wear.
For, I am not so ignorant, but that
I partly know what things I may relate:
And what an honest man should still conceal,
I know as well, as what he may reveal.
If they be poor and base, that fear my strain:
These poor base fellows are afraid in vain.
I scorn to spurn a dog, or strike a fly,
Or with such Groomes to soil my Poesie.
If great they were, and fallen; let them know,
I do abhor to touch a wounded foe.
If on the top of honor, yet they be:
It is poor weak honor, if ought done by me
May blot, or shake the same: yea, whatsoever
Their Titles cost, or they would fain appear
•
,
They are ignoble, and beneath me far;
If with these measures they distempered are.
For, if they had true Greatness, they would know,
The spite of all the World, were far below
The seat of Noblest Honor; and that He,
In whom true worth, and real Virtues be,
So well is armed: as that he fears no wrong
From any Tyrants hand; or Villaines tongue.
Much less be startled at those
Numbers
would;
Where
Uertue's
praised and proud
Uice
contrould.
Is any man the worse if I express
My
Wants,
my
Riches,
or my
Carelesnesse?
Or can my honest thoughts, or my content,
Be turned to any man's disparagement,
If he be honest? Nay, those men will find,
A pleasure in this D
•
re of my Mind,
Who honor Virtue, and instead of blame,
Will (as they have done) love me for the same.
You are decein'd, if the
Bohemian
State
You think I touch; or the
Palatinate:
Or that this ought of
Eighty-eight
contains;
The
Powder-plot,
or anything of
Spain's:
That their
Ambassador
need question me,
Or bring me justly for it on my knee.
The state of those Occurrences I know
Too well; my Raptures that way to bestow.
Nor need you doubt, but any friend you have,
May play the fool, and if he list the knave,
For ought here written: For it is not such
As you suppose; nor what you fear so much.
If I had been disposed to Satyrize,
Would I have tamed my
Numbers
in this wise?
No: I have
Furies
that lie ty'de in chains.
Bold (English-mastiue-like) aduentrons Straines:
Who fearless dare on any
Monster
fly,
That wears a body of Mortality.
And I had let them loose, if I had list,
To play again the sharp-fangd
Satirist.
That therefore you no more mis-title
This,
I say, it is my
Motto;
and it is.
I will have it so: For, if it please not me;
It shall not be a
Satyr,
though it be.
What isit to you (or any man) if I,
This little
Poem
term as foolishly,
As some do their children? Is it not,
Mine own
Minerva,
of my brains begot?
For ought I know, I never did intrude,
To name your
Whelps;
and if you be so rude,
To meddle with my
Kitling
(though in sport)
'It is odds, but she'l go near to scratch you for it.
Play with your
Monkey
then, and let it lie:
Or (if you be not angry) take it pray,
And read it over.—
—So; the
Critick's
gone,
Who at these
Numbers
carpt; and We alone:
Proceede we to the matter.—
Nec Habeo, nec Careo, nec Curo.
SOme having seen, where I this
Motto
w
•
it
Beneath my Picture; asked, what meaned it.
And many in my absence, do assay,
What by these words, they best conjecture may:
Some have supposed, that it doth express,
An unadvised, desperate
Carelesnesse.
Some others do imagine, that I meant
In little, to set forth a great Content.
Some, on each member of the
Sentence
dwell:
And (first) will, what
I have not,
seem to tell:
What things
I want not,
they will next declare:
And then they guess, for what
I do not care.
But that they might not from my meaning err,
I will now become my own
Interpreter.
Some things
I have,
which here I will not show;
Some things
I want,
which you shall never know:
And sometime I (perchance) do
Carefull
grow;
But we, with that, will nothing have to do.
If good occasion be thereof to speak;
Another time, we may the pleasure take.
That, which to treat of, I now purpose (therefor,)
Is what I neither
have,
nor
want,
nor
care
for.
Nec Habeo.
ANd first; that no man else may censure me,
For Vaunting what belongeth not to me:
Hear what
I have not;
for, I will not deny
To make confession of my poverty.
I have not
of myself the pour, or grace,
To be, or not to be; one minute space.
I have not
strength another word to write;
Or tell you what I purpose to indite:
Or think out half a thought, before my death,
But by the leave of him that gave me breath.
I have no
native goodness in my soul;
But I was over all corrupt and foul:
And till another cleansed me,
I had naught
That was not stained within me: not a thought.
I have no
propper merit; neither will,
Or to resolve, or act but what is ill.
I have no
means of safety, or content,
In ought which mine own wisdom can invent.
Nor have I
reason to be desperate though:
Because for this a remedy I know.
I have no
portion in the world like this,
That I may breath that air, which common is:
Nor have I
seen within this spacious
Round;
What I have worth my
Joy
or
sorrow
found.
Except it hath for these that follow binn;
The Love of my
Redeemer,
and my sin.
I none
of those great Privileges
have,
Which make the
Minions
of the Time, so brave.
I have no
sumpteous Palaces, or Bowers
That ouertop my neighbors with their Towrs.
I have no
large Demeanes or Princely Rents,
Like those
Heroes;
nor their discontents.
I have no
glories from mine Auncesters;
For want of real worth to brag of theirs,
Nor have I
baseness in my pedigree;
For it is noble, though obscure it be.
I have no
gold those honors to obtain,
Which men might heretofore, by
Virtue
gain,
Nor have I
wit, if wealth were given me;
To think, bought
Place
or
Title,
honor'd me.
I
(yet)
have no
belief that they are wise,
Who for base ends, can basely temporise:
Or that it will at length be ill for me,
That I lived poor, to keep my Spirit free.
I have no
Causes in our Pleading
Courts.
Nor start I at our Chancery
Reports.
No fearful
Bill
hath yet affrighted me,
No
Motion, Order, Judgment,
or
Decree.
Nor have I
forced been to tedious Iourneys,
Betwixt my
Counselors
and my
Attorneys.
•
e no
need of those long-gowned warriors,
Who play at
Westminster,
vnarm'd at
Barriers:
Nor gamster for those
Common-pleas
am I,
Whose sport is marred, by the
Chancery.
I have no
iuggling hand, no double tongue;
Nor any mind to take, or do a wrong.
I have no
shifts or cunning fleights, on which
I feed myself, with hope of being rich.
Nor have I
one of these, to make me poor;
Hounds, Humors, running horses, Haukes or Whore,
I have no
pleasure in acquaintance, where
The Rules of State, and Ceremony, are
Observe'd so seriously; that I must dance,
And act over all the Complements of
France,
And
Spain,
and
Italy;
before I can
Be taken, for a well bred
Englishman:
And every time we meet, be forced agen,
To put in action that most idle Sceane.
Mong these, much precious time (unto my cost)
And much true-hearty meaning have I lost.
Which having found: I do resolve therefore,
To lose my Time, and Friendship, so no more.
I have no
Complements; but what may show,
That I do manners, and good breeding know.
For much I hate, the forced, Apish tricks,
Of those our home-disdaining Politicks:
Who to the Forraine guise are so affected,
That
English
Honesty is quite rejected:
And in the stead thereof; they fu
•
isht home,
With shadows of
Humanity
do come.
Oh! how judicious in their own esteem,
And how completely, Trauelled they seem;
If in the place of real kindnesses,
(Which Nature could, have taught them to express)
They can with gestures, looks, and
•
guage sweet,
Fawne like a Curtezan, on all they meet:
And vie, in humble and kind speeches; when,
They do most proudly, and most falsely mean.
On this: too many falsely set their face,
Of Courtship and of wisdom: but tis base.
For, servile (unto me) it doth appear,
When we descend, to sooth and flatter, where
We want affection: yea, I hate it more,
Then to be borne a slave; or to be poor.
I have no
pleasure, or delight in ought,
That by dissembling must to pass be brought.
If I dislike, I'ld sooner tell them so,
Then hide my face, beneath a friendly show.
For he, (who to be just, hath an intent,
Needs nor dissemble, nor a lie invent.
I rather wish to fail with honesty,
Then to p
•
euaile in ought by treachery.
And with this mind I will safer sleep, then all
Our
Machauillian
Pollititians shall.
I have no
Mind to fl
•
tter; though I might,
Be made some Lord's companion; or a Knight.
Not shall my Verse for me on begging go,
Though I might starve, unless it did do so.
I have no Muses
that will serve the turn,
At every Triumph; and rejoice or mourn,
Upon a minutes warning for their hire;
If with old
Sherry
they themselves inspire.
I am not of a temper, like to those,
That can provide an hours sad talk in
Prose,
For any Funeral; and then go Dine,
And choke my grief, with Sugar-plums and Wine.
I cannot at the
Claret
sic and laugh,
And then half tipsie, write an
Epitaph;
Or howl an
Epicoedium
for each Groome,
That is, by Fraud, or Nigardize, become
A wealthy Alderman: Nor, for each Gull,
That hath acquired the style of Worshipful.
I cannot for reward adorn the Hearse,
Of some old rotten
Miser,
with my Verse:
Nor like the
Poetasters
of the Time;
Go howl a doleful
Elegy
in Ryme,
For every Lord or Ladyship that dies:
And then perplex their Heirs, to Patronize
That muddy
Poesie.
Oh! how I scorn,
Those Raptures, which are free, and nobly borne,
Should Fidler-like, for entertainment scrape
At strangers windows: and go play the Ape,
In counterfeiting Passion, when there's none,
Or in good earnest, foolishly bem
•
ane
(In hope of cursed bounty) their just death;
Who, (living) merit not, a minutes breath
To keep their
Fame
alive, unless to blow,
Some Trumpet which their black disgrace may show.
I cannot (for my life) my
Pen
compel,
Upon the praise of any man to dwell:
Unless I know, (or think at least) his worth,
To be the same, which I have blazed forth.
Had I some honest Suite; the gain of which,
Would make me noble, eminent, and rich:
And that to compass it, no means there were
Unless I basely flattered some great Peer;
Would with that Suite, my ruin I might get:
If on those terms I would endeavor it.
I have not
been to their condition borne,
Who are inclined to respect, and scorn;
As men in their estates, do rise or fall:
Or rich, or poor, I
Uertue
love in all.
And where I find it not, I do despise
To fawn on them; how high so e're they rise,
For, where proud
Greatness
without worth I see:
Old
Mordecai
had not a stiffer knee.
I cannot give a
Plaudit
(I protest)
When as his Lordship thinks, he breaks aieast,
Vnles it move me; neither can I grin,
When he a causeless laughter doth begin.
I cannot swear him, truly honorable;
Because he once received me to his table;
And talkit as if the
Mases
glad might be,
That he vouchsased such a grace to me.
His slender worth, I could not blaze on so,
By strange
Hyporboles,
as some would do.
Or wonder at it, as if none had been
His equal, since King
William
first came in.
Nor can I think true
Virtue
ever cared
To give or take, (for praise) what I have heard.
For if we peyze them well; what goodly grace,
Have outward Beauties, Riches, Titles, Place,
Or such; that we, the owners should commend,
When no true virtues, do on these attend?
If beautiful he be, what honor's that?
As fair as he is many a Beggers brar.
If we, his noble Titles would extol;
Those Titles. he may have and be a fool.
If Seats of Justice he hath climb'd (we say)
So Tyrants, and corrupt oppressors may.
If for a large estate his praise we tell:
A thousand Villanies, may be praised as well.
If he, his Princes good esteem be in;
Why, so hath many a bloody Traitor been.
And if in these things he alone excel,
Let those that list, upon his praises dwell.
Some other worth I find, e're I have sense
Of any praise-deserving excellence.
I have no
friends, that once affected were,
But to my heart, they sit this day as near,
As when I most endeared them (though they seem,
To fall from my opinion or esteem:)
For precious Time, in idle would be spent;
If I with All, should always complement.
And till, my love I may to purpose show;
I care not where'they think I love or no.
For sure I am, if any find me changed;
Their greatness, nor their meanness me estrang'd.
I have not
prized men's loves, the less or more,
Because I saw them, either rich, or poor;
But as their love, and Virtues did appear,
I such esteemed them, whosoe're they were.
I have no
trust, or confidence in friends,
That seek to know me, merely for their ends,
Nor have I
ever said,
I loved
yet;
Where I expected more then
Love
for it,
And let me fail of that where most I loved,
If that with greater joy I be not moved
By twenty-fold, when I my kindness show,
Then when their favors they on me bestow.
I have not
that vile mind; nor shall my breast
For ever, with such baseness be possessed;
As in my anger (be it never so just)
To utter ought committed to my trust
In time of frien
•
ship: though constrained so,
That want of telling it, should me undo.
For, whosoe're hath trust repos'd in me;
Shall ever find me true, though false he be.
I have no
lo
•
o
Country, Prince
or Friend;
That can be more, or less, or have an end.
For whatsoever state they raised me to;
I would not love them; better then I do.
Nor can I hate them; though on me they should
Heape all the scorn, and injury they could.
I have no
do
•
ing humor, to affect
Where love I find rewarded with neglect.
I never was wit
•
melancholy fit
Oppressed in such stupid manner, yet,
A▪ that vngently to my friends I sp
•
ke;
O
•
heed to their contentment, did not take:
Nor have I felt my Anger so inflamed
But that with gentle speech it might be tamed.
I have no
private cause of discontent;
Nor grudge against the public government.
I have no
spite, or enu
•
e in my breast,
Nor doth another's peace disturb my rest.
I have not
(yet) that dunghill humor, which
Some Great-men have; who, so they may be rich,
Think all gain sweet, and naught ashamed are,
In vile, and rascal Suites to have a share.
For I their baseness scorn: and ever loath'd
By wronging others, to be fed or clothed,
Much more, to have my pride, or lust maintained,
With what, by foul oppression hath been gained.
I have not
been enamor'd on the
Fate
Of men, to great advancements fortunate.
I never yet a Fauorite did see
So happy, that I wished to be he:
Nor would I, whatsoever of me became;
Be any other man, but who I am.
For, though I am assured the destiny
Of millions tendeth to felicity:
Yet, those dear secret comforts, which I find,
Vnseene, within the closet of my mind:
Give more assurance of true happiness,
Then any outward glories can express.
And 'tis so hard, (what shows soe're there be)
The inward plight of other men to see:
That my estate, with none exchange I dare,
Although my Fortunes more despised were.
I have not
hitherto divulged ought,
Wherein my words dissented from my thought.
Nor would I fail; if I might able be,
To make my manners, and my words agree.
I have not
been ashamed to confess
My lowest Fortunes, or the kindnesses,
Of poorest men: Nor have I proud been made,
By any favor from a great Man, had
I have not
placit so much of my Content,
Upon the goods of
Fortune,
to lament
The loss of them; more then may seemly be,
To grieve for things, which are no part of me.
For, I have known the worst of being poor;
Yea lost, when I to lose have had no more,
And though, the Coward
World
more quakes for fear
Of Pouerty, then any plagues that are:
Yet, He that minds his End, observes his Ward,
The Means pursues, and keeps a heart prepared:
Da
•
es, Scorn and Pouerty as boldly meet;
As others gladly. Fame, and Riches greet.
For those, who on the stage of this proud World,
Into the paws of
Want
and
Scorn
are hurld:
Are in the
Master-prize,
that trieth men;
And
Virtue
fighteth her brau'st Combat, then,
I no
Antipathy (as yet)
have
had,
Twixt me, and any Creature, God hath made:
For if they do not scratch, nor bite, nor sting,
Snakes, Serpents, Todes, or Catts, or anything
I can endure to touch, or look upon:
(So cannot everyone whom I have known.)
I have no
Nation on the earth abhorred,
But with a
Jew,
or
Spaniard
can accord,
As well, as with my Brother; if I find
He bear a Virtuous, and Heroic mind.
Yet (I confess) of all men, I most hate
Such, as their manners do adulterate.
Those Lins
•
-woolsie people, who are neither
French, English, Scotsh,
nor
Dutch:
but altogether
Those, I affect not; rather wish I could,
That they were fish, or flesh, or hot, or cold:
But none among all them, worse brook I, then
Our mere Hispaniolized
English men.
And if we scape their Trecheries at home,
I will fear no mischies, where so'ere I come.
I have not
feared who my Religion knows:
Nor ever for preferment, made I shows
Of what I was not. For, although I may
Through want, be forced, to put on worse ar
•
y,
Upon my Body; I will ever find,
Means so maintain, a habit for my Mind,
Of Truth in grain: and wear it, in the sight
Of all the world: in all the worlds despite.
I, their presumption,
have not,
who dare blame,
A fault in others; and correct the same
With grievous punishments: yet guilty be,
Of those offenses in more high degree.
For, oh! how bold, and impudent a face,
(And what vnmoued hearts of Flint and Brasse)
Have those corrupted
Magistrates,
who dare,
Upon the seat of Judgment sit; and there
Without an inward horror preach abroad,
The guilt of Sin, and heavy wrath of God;
(Against offenders pleading at their
Barr)
Yet know, what plots, within their bosoms are?
Who; when (enthron'd for Justice) they behold,
A reverend
Magistrate,
both grave, and old;
And hear how sternly, he doth aggravate
Each little crime, offenders perpetrate:
How much the fact he seemeth to abhor;
How he, a just correction labors for;
How he admires, and wonders that among
A people, where the Faith hath florisht long
Such wickedness should reign which (he hath heard)
The Heathen to commit, have been affeard.
Who, that observes all this; would think that He
Did but an hour before, receive a fee,
Some Innocent (by law) to murder there?
Or else, from Children fatherless to tear
Their just Inheritance? and that when this
Were done (as if that naught had been amiss)
He could go sleep upon a deed so foul;
And neither think on man's, or God's control?
I have not
a stupidity so mad,
And this presumption, I would no man hadd.
I have no
question made, but some there are,
Who, when of this my
Motto
they shall hear;
Will have a better stomach, to pro
•
ure
That I may check, or punishment endure,
Then their own evil manners to amend:
For that's a work, they cannot yet intend.
And though, they many view (before their face)
Fal'ne, and each minute falling to disgrace;
(For less offenses far then they commit)
Without remorse, and penitence they sit.
As if that They, (and they all one) had binne,
Without the compass of reproof of sin.
I have no
great opinion of their wit,
Nor ever saw their actions prosper, yet,
Who wedded to their own devises be;
And will nor counsel hear, nor danger see,
That is foretold them by their truest friends:
But rather, list to them, who for their ends
Do sooth their fancies. And the best excuse;
That such men can, to hide their folly use;
(When all their idle projects come to naught)
Are these words of the fool.
I had not thought.
I have not
their delight, who pleasure take
At Natures imperfections scoffs to make.
Nor have I bitterness against that sin,
Which thorough weakness hath committed been.
(For I myself, am to offenses prone;
And every day commit I many a one)
But at their hateful crimes I only glance
That sin of pleasure, pride, and arrogance.
I have not
so much knowledge as to call
The
Arts
in question; neither wi
•
so small,
To wast my spirits, those things to attain;
Which all the world hath labor'd for in vain.
I have not
so much beauty, to attract
The eyes of Ladies: neither have I lackt
Of that proportion which doth well suffice
To make me gracious, in good people's eyes.
I have not
done, so many a holy deed;
As that of
JESUS CHRIST,
I have no need.
And my
good-works
I hope are not so few;
But that in me a living
Faith
they show.
I have not
found ability so much.
To carry Milstones; yea, and were it such,
I should not greatly vaunt it: for, in this,
A scuruie pack-horse far my better is.
I love his manly strength, that can resist
His own desi
•
es: force passage when he list
Through all his strong affections, and subdue,
The stout attempts of that rebellious cr
•
we.
This, were a brauer strength then
Sampson
got:
And this, I covet, but
I have
it not.
I have not
so much heedlesnes of things,
Which appertain unto the Courts of Kings;
But that from my low station, I can see
A Princes love may oft abused be.
For many men their Country injure dare
At home; where, all our eyes upon them are,
And (of the worlds Protector) I implore,
The trust abroad, be not abused more.
I have no
Brother, but of younger age,
Nor have I
Birth-right without heritage:
And with that land, let me inherit shame;
Unless I grieve when I possess the same.
The value of a penny
have I not,
That was by bribry, or extortion got.
I have no
Lands that from the Church were pild,
To bring (hereafter) ruin to my Child.
And hitherto, I think, I have been free
From Widdowes, or from Orphants cursing me.
The
Spleene,
the
Collicke,
or the
Lythargy,
Gouts, Palsies, Dropsies,
or a
Lunacy.
I
(by inheritance)
have none
of these:
Nor reigning sin; nor any foul disease.
I have no
debts, but such as (when I can)
I mean to pay; nor is there any man
(To whom I standingag'd by ought I borrow)
Shall loss sustain, though I should die to morro
•
And if they should (so much my friends they be)
Their greatest loss thele think the loss of me.
And well they know, I took not whatthey lent,
To wrong their loves, or to be idly spent.
Except the
Devil,
and that cursed brood,
Which have dependence on his Devil-hood,
I know
no
foes
I have;
for, if there be,
In none, more malice, then I find in me:
The earth, that man (at this time) doth not bear
Who would not, if some just occasions were;
(Even in his height of spleen) my life to save,
Aduenture with one foot, into his grave.
To make me careful; Children
I have none;
Nor have I,
any Wife to get them on;
Nor have I,
(yet to keep her) had I one;
Nor
can this spoil my Marriage being known.
Since I am sure, I was not borne for her,
That shall before my worth, her wealth prefer:
For, I do set my Virtues, at a rate,
As high as any prize their Riches at.
And if All count, the venture too much cost,
In keeping it myself there's nothing lost.
For, she I wed, shall some what think in me
More worthy Love, then great revenues be.
And if I find not one, of such a mind,
(As such indeed, are Jewels rare to find)
I will clasped in mine own embraces lie:
And never touch a woman till I die.
For, shall a Fellow, whom (the Usurer)
His father, by extortion did prefer
Unto an heritage in value clear,
Above four times a thousand pounds a year,
So worthily or so confident become?
(By means of that his goodly annual some,
Which may be lost tomorrow) as to dare
Attempt a
Nymph
of Honor for his pheare?
Shall he, that hath with those four thousand pounds
A gaming vain; a deep mouthed cry of Hounds,
Three cast of Hawkes, of Whores as many brace,
Six hunting Naggs, and five more for the race:
(Perhaps a numerous brood of fighting-Cocks)
Physicians, Barbers, Surgeons for the Pox;
And twenty other humors to maintain;
(Beside the yearly charges of his train)
With this revenue? Most of which, or all
To mortgage must be set? perhaps to sale
To pay his creditors, and yet all fail
To keep his crazy body from the Jail?
Shall this dull Fool, with his uncertain store
(And in all honesty and Virtues poor)
Hope for a
Mistress,
noble, rich, and fair?
And is it likely, that I can despair
To be as happy, if I seek it would?
Who such a matchless fortune have in hold;
That though the
World
my ruin plot and threat,
I can in spite of it be rich, and great?
A silly Girle, no sooner understands,
That she is left in Portion, or in Lands;
So large a fortune, that it doth excel
The greatest part, who near about her dwell:
But straight begins to rate, and prize her self
According to the value of her pelf.
And though to Gentry, nor good breeding born;
Can all, that have estates beneath her, scorn.
This wit a
Woman
hath: and shall not I,
Who know I have a
Wealth,
which none can buy
For all the world; expect a nobler phere
Then suits unto a hundred pounds a year?
Shall love of Truth, and Virtue make of me
A match no better worthy, then is He
Who knows not what they mean? and doth possess
In outward fortunes neither more nor less?
Have I oft heard so many fair ones plain
How fruitless Titles are? how poor and vain
They found rich greatness, where they did not find,
True Love, and the endowments of the mind?
Have fairest Ladies often sworn to me
That if they might, but only
Mistress
be
Of true affection; they would prize it more
Then all those glories, which the most adore:
Have I observed how hard it is to find
A constant heart? a just and honest mind?
How few good natures in the world there are,
How scanty true affection is? how rare?
And shall I pass as true a Heart away,
As hath conceived an honest thought today:
As if in value to no more it came,
Then would endear me to a vulgar Dame
On equal terms? or else undo me with
Some old rich Croan, that hath out-lived her teeth?
I will rather break it with proud scorn; that dead;
The worms may rifle for my
Mayden-head.
I have no
love to beauties, which are gone
Much like a Rose in June, as soon as blown.
Those painted
Cabinets
and naught within,
Have little power my respect to win.
Nor have I,
yet, that stupid love to pelf.
As for the hope thereof, to yoke myself
With any female; betwixt whom, and me,
There could not in the soul, a marriage be.
For whosoever join without that care;
Fools, and accursed in their matches are;
And so are you, that either hear or view
What I auerr; unless you think it true.
I have no
meaning, whensoere I wed,
That my companion, shall become my head.
Nor would I (if I meant to keep my right)
So much as say so, though that win her might.
Not though a Duchess: for, the means I will use
To keep my worth, though my reward I loose,
Yea, from a prison had she raised me,
Lord of her fortunes, and her Self to be:
I that respect, would still expect to have,
Which might become her Husband: not her slave.
And should I spouse a Beggar; I would show,
What love, and honor, to a wife were due.
I have not,
yet, of any skorned binn;
Who
•
e good opinion, I have sought to win.
Nor have I (when I mean to woe) a fear,
That any man, shall make me, willow wear.
I have not,
eyes so excellent, to see
Things (as some men can do) before they be.
Nor purblind sight; which crimes far off can mark
•
Yet seem, no faults, which are more near me, dark.
I have not
cares for every
•
ale that's told:
Nor memory, things friuelous to hold.
I have not
their credulity that dare,
Give credit unto all reports they hear.
Nor have I
subject to their dullness been,
Who can bele
•
ue no more then they have seen.
I have no
feeling of those wrongs that be
By base unworthy fellows, offered me:
For, my contentment; and my glory lies
Above the pitch, their spite, or malice flies.
I have not
need enough, as yet, to serve:
Nor impudence to crave, till I deserve.
I have no
hope, the worlds esteem to get:
Nor could a fool, or knave, e're brook me yet.
I have not
villainy enough, to prey
Upon the weak: or friendship to betray.
Nor have I
so much love to life, that I
Would seek to save it by dishonesty:
I have not
Cowardice enough to fear,
In honest actions; though my death be there:
Nor heart, to perpetrate a willful sin:
Though I with safety, large renown might win;
And for omitting it, were sure to die,
Ne'r to be thought on, but with infamy.
I have
not their base cruelty, who can
Insult, upon an over-grieved man:
Or tread on him, that at my feet doth bow.
For, I protest, no villainy I know
That could be done me; but if I perceived
(Or thought) the doer, without faigning grieu'd:
I truly could forgive him; as if he
Had never in a thought abused me.
And if my love to mercy, I bely
Let God deny me mercy when I die.
I have not
that unhappiness, to be
A Rich man's Son; For he had trained me,
In some vain path; and I had never sought,
That knowledge which my poverty hath taught.
I have no
inclination to respect
Each vulgar complement, nor neglect
An honest show of friendship: For, I swear,
I rather wish, that I deceived were;
Then of so base a disposition be,
As to distrust, till cause were given me.
I have no
Constitution, to accord
To ought dishonest, sooner for a Lord,
Then for his meanest Groome; and hopes there be
It never will be otherwise with me.
I have no
policies to make me seem
A man well worthy of the worlds esteem.
Nor have I
hope, I shall hereafter grow,
To anymore regard, for saying so;
I have no
doubt, though here a slighted thing;
But I am fauorite, to Heavens great King.
Nor have I fear but all thats good in me;
Shall in my Life, or Death, rewarded be.
But yet,
I have not
that attained, for which
Those who account this nothing, think me rich:
No
•
that, which they do reckon worth esteem;
To whom the riches of the min
•
e, do seem
A scornful poverty. But let that go,
Men cannot prize the Pearls they do not know.
Nor have I
power to teach them: for if I,
Should here consume my gift of Poesie▪
(And wholly wast my spirits, to express
What rich contents, a poor estate may bless)
It were impossible, to move the sense
Of those brave things, in their intelligence.
I have not
found, on what I may rely;
Unless it carry some Divinity
To make me confident: for, all the glory,
And all hopes fail; in things mere transitory.
What man is there among us, doth not know,
A thousand men, this night to bed will go,
Of many a hundred goodly things possessed;
That shall have naught tomorrow but a Chest,
And one poor Sheet to lie in? What I may,
Next morning have, I know not; But today,
A
Friend, Meat, Drink,
and fitting
Clothes
to wear;
Some
Books
and
Papers,
which my Jewels are;
A
Servant
and a
Horse:
all this I have,
And when I die, one promist me
〈◊〉
Grave.
A
Grave;
that quiet close
•
of Content:
And I have built myself a
Monument.
But (as I live) excepting only this;
(Which of my wealth the
Inventory,
is)
I have so little; I my oath might save:
If I should take it, that
I, nothing have.
Nec Careo.
ANd yet, what
Want I?
or who knoweth how,
I may be richer made then I am now?
Or what great
Peer,
or wealthy
Alderman,
Bequeath, his son, so great a Fortune can?
I nothing want
that needful is to have;
Sought I no more, then Nature bids me crave.
For; as we see, the smallest
〈◊〉
,
may
As full as greatest
Glasses
be; though they
Much l
•
sse contain: So, my small portion gives
Th
•
full content to me; in which he lives,
Who most possesseth: and with larger store,
I might fill others, but myself, no more.
I want not
Temperance to rest content
With what the providence of God, hath lent;
Nor want I
a sufficiency, to know;
Which way to use it, if he more bestow.
For, as when me, one horse would easier bear▪
To ride on two at once, it madness were:
And, as when one small Bowle might quench my thirst
To lift a Vessel, that my back might burst
Were wondrous
•
olly: So absurd a thing,
It were in me; should I neglect a Spring,
(Whose plenty may a Countries want supply)
To dwell by some small
Poole
that would be dry?
If therefore ought do happen in the way;
Which on a just occasion seek I may:
I want not
resolution, to make trial;
Nor want I
patience, if I have denial.
Men ask me what Preserment I have gained?
What riches, by my Studies are attained?
And those that fed, and fatned are with draff
For their destruction; please themselves to laugh
At my low Fate; As if I naught had got
(For my enriching) cause they saw it not.
Alas! that Mole-ey'd issue, cannot see,
What Patrimonies, are bestowed on me.
There is a brauer wealthinesse, then what;
They, (by abundance) have arrived at.
Had I their wealth I should not sleep the more
Securely for it; and, were I as poor
In outward fortunes, as men Shipwrackt are;
I should (of poverty) have no more fear,
Then if I had the Riches and the powers;
Of all the Eastern Kings, and Emperors.
For, Grass though trod into the earth may grow;
And highest Cedars, have an overthrow.
Yea. I have seen, as many beggar'd by
Their fathers wealth; and much prospe i y;
As have by want mis-done. And for each one,
Whom by his riches, I aduancit have known;
I three could reckon, who through being poor,
Have raisd their Fortunes, and their friends the more.
To what contents do men most wealthy mount,
Which I enjoy not; if their Cares we count:
My clothing keeps me full as warm as their,
My Meats unto my taste, as pleasing are.
I feed enough my hunger to suffice:
I sleep, till I myself, am pleasd to rise.
My Dreams as sweet, and full of quiet be:
My waking cares, as seldom trouble me.
I have as oftentimes, a Sunny day:
And sport, and laugh, and sing, as well as they.
I breath as wholesome, and as sweet an Air;
As loving as my
Mistress,
and as fair.
My body is as healthy; and I find,
As little cause of sickness, in my mind.
I am as wise, I think, as some of those;
And oft myself as foolishly dispose:
For, of the wisest, I am none (as yet)
And I have nigh, as little hair, as wit:
Of neither, have I ought to let to farm,
Nor
so much
want I,
as may keep me warm.
I find my Liver sound, my Ioynts well knit:
Youth,
and good
Diet,
are my Doctors yet.
Nor on
Potatoes,
or
Eringoes
feed I;
No Meats restorative, to raise me, need I:
N
•
r
Amber-greece,
with other things confected,
To take away the stink, of Lungs infected,
I neu'r in need of
Pothicary
stood.
Or any Surgeons hand to let me blood:
For since the Rod, my Tutor hurled by,
I have not meddled with
Phlebotomy.
As good as other men's, my senses be;
Each limb I have, as able is in me.
And whether I, as lovely be, or no:
It is ten to one, but some do think me so.
The wealthiest men, no benefits possess,
But I have such; or better, in their place.
As they my low condition, can contemn;
So, I know how to fling a scorn at them.
My Fame, is yet as fair, and flies as far,
As some men's, that with Titles laden are.
Yea, by myself much more I have attained,
Then many, have with help of others gained.
And my esteem, I will not change for their,
Whose For unes are ten thousand more a year.
Nor want I
so much grace, as to confess;
That God is Author of this happiness.
I want not
so much judgment, as to see
There must twixt men and men, a difference be,
And I, of those in place, account do make,
(Though they be wicked) for good orders sake.
But I could stoop to serve them at their feet,
Where old
Nobility,
and
Virtue
meet.
To find mine own defects,
I want not
sense:
Nor want I
will to grieve, for my offense.
To see my Friend misdoe,
I want not
eyes;
Nor Love, to cover his infirmities.
I want not
Spirit, if I once but know
The way be just, and noble that I go.
My mind's as great as theirs that greatest are;
Yet, I can make it fit the clothes I wear.
And whether I ascend, or lower fall:
I want not
hope, but I preserve it shall.
I want no
slanders; neither want I brain,
To scorn the Rascall humors, of the vain
And giddy multitude, And (trust me) they
So far unable are to talk away
My resolution; that no more it fears
The worst their ignorance, or malice dares:
Then doth the
Moon,
when dogs and birds of night,
Do barking stand, or whooting at her light.
And if this mischief, no way shun I could,
But that they praise me, or dispraise me would:
I rather wish, their tongues should blast my name;
Then be beholding to them for my fame.
I want nor
wit, nor honesty enough
To keep my hand, from such base Rascall stuff,
As if a
Libell:
For, although I shall
Sometime let fly, at
Vice
in general,
I spare particulars; No
•
shall a Knaue
In my
Lines
live, so much as shame to have.
But in his own corruption, die, and ro
•
t;
That all his memory may be forgot.
I want not
so much Knowledge, as to know,
True
Wisdom,
lies not in a glorious
〈◊〉
Of human Learning; or in being able
To
•
e Authority innumerable.
Nor in a new invention. But that man,
Who make good use of every creature can:
And from all things, that happen well, or ill,
Contentment draws; (and keeps a Conscience still,
To witness his endeavors to be good)
That man is wisest; though he understood
The language of no country but his own,
Nor ever had he use of Lette
•
s known.
To make fair shows, of
Honesty
and
Arts;
Of Knowledge
and
Religion,
are the parts
This Age doth strive to play: but few there are,
Who truly are the same they do appear.
And this is that, which daily makes us see
So many, whom we honest thought to be,
And Wise, and learned, (while some
Sceanes
do last)
Prove Fools, and Knaucs, before their
Act
be past.
I want not
sense, of those Men's miseries;
Who lul'd asleep in their prosperities
Must shortly fall; and with a heavy eye
Behold their pomp, and pleasures vanish by:
And how that
Mistress
they so doted on
(Their proud
Vain-glory)
will with scorn be gone.
I feel me thinks with what a drooping heart,
They, and their idle hopes, begin to part:
And with what mighty burth
•
ns of unrest
Their poor distemperd souls, will be oppressed.
How much they will repent I do foresee;
How much confused, and ashamed they'll be,
And as I praise their doom; eu'n so I pray,
Their shame, and sorrow, work their comfort may.
I want not
much experiment, to show
That all is good God pleaseth to bestow;
(What shape soever he doth mask it in)
For all my former cares, my joys have been:
And I have trust, that all my woes to come,
Will bring my Soul, eternal comforts home.
I do not find, within me, other fears;
Then what to men, of all degrres appears.
I have a conscience that is clean within;
For, (though I guilty am of many a sin)
A kind redeemer, I have found, and he
His Righteousness imputeth unto me.
The Greatest, have no Greatness, more then I,
In bearing out a Want, or Misery.
I can as well, to passion set a bound:
I brook as well the smarting of a wound.
Aswell endure I, to be hunger-bit;
Aswell can wrestle, with an ague-fit.
My eyes can wake as long as their I am sure;
And as much cold, or heat I can endure.
Yea, let my dearest friends excused be,
From heaping scorn, or injuries on me;
(Come all the world) and I my heart can make,
To brook as much, before it shrink, or break
As theirs, that do the noblest Titles were;
And slight as much their frown that mightest are.
For, if in me at any time appear,
A bashfulness (which some mistitle, fear)
It is in doubt, least I through folly may
Some things unfitting me; or do, or say:
But not that I am fearful to be shent;
For dread of Men, or fear of punishment.
And yet,
no
faults
I want; nor want
in me,
Affections which in other men there be.
Asmuch I hate an inciuility;
Asmuch am taken with a Courtesie;
Asmuch abhor I, brutish Vanities;
Asmuch allow I, Christian Liberties;
As soon an injury, I can perceive;
And with as free a heart, I can forgive.
My hand in Anger, I as well can stay;
And I dare strike as stout a man as they;
And when I know, that I amiss have done;
I am as much ashamed as any one.
If my afflictions, more then others be:
I have more comforts, to keep heart in me.
I have a
Faith
will carry me on high:
Until it lift me to
Eternity.
I have a
Hope,
that neither want, nor spite,
Nor grim Adversity, shall stop this flight:
But that undaunted, I my course shall hold,
Though twenty thousand Devils cross me should.
Yet (I confess) in this my Pilgrimage,
I like some Infant am, of tender age;
For, as the Child, who from his Father hath
Strai'd in some Groue, through many a crooked path:
Is sometime hopeful, that he finds the way;
And sometime doubtful, he runs more astray.
Sometime, with fair, and easy paths, doth meet;
Sometime with rougher tracts, that stay his feet.
Here runs, there goes, and you amazed stays:
Now cries, and straight for gets his care, and plays.
Then hearing where his loving Father calls.
Makes haste; but through a zeal il-guided, fall
•
;
Or runs some other way: Until that
He,
(Whos love is more, then his endeavors be)
To seek this
Wanderer
forth himself doth come,
And take him, in his arms, and bear him home.
So, in this Life, this Groue of ignorance;
As to my homeward, I myself advance;
Sometime aright, and sometime wrong I go;
Sometime, my pace is speedy, sometime slow;
Sometime I stagger, and sometime I fall:
Sometime I sing, sometime for help I call.
One while, my ways are pleasant unto me;
Another while, as full of Cares they be:
Now, I have Courage, and do nothing fear,
Anon, my Spirits half dejected are.
I doubt, and hope, and doubt, and hope again;
And many a change of Passions I sustain,
In this my Journey: So that now and then,
I lost may seem (perhaps) to other men.
Yea, to myself a while, when sins impure,
Do my
Redeemers
love, from me obscure.
But (whatsoever betide) I know full well,
My Father (who above the Clouds do dwell)
An eye upon his wandering Child doth cast:
And He, will fetch me, to my home at last.
For, of God's love, a Witness want not I;
And whom He loves, He loves eternally.
I have within my breast a little Heart,
Which seems to be composed, of a part,
Of all my Friends: For, (truly) whensoe're
They suffer anything, I feel it there.
And they no sooner a Complaint do make,
But presently, it falls to pant, and ache.
I have a Love, that is as strong as
Fate,
And such, as cannot be impaired by Hate.
And (whatsoever the success may prove)
I want not yet, the comforts of my Love.
These, are the
Jewels
that do make me rich;
These, while I do possess,
I want not
much;
And I so happy am, that still I bear,
These Riches with me: and so safe they are,
Th
•
t Pirates, Robbers, no device of man,
Or Tyrants pour, deprive me of them can.
And were I naked, forced to exile;
More Treasure, I should carry from this
I will;
Then should be sold; though for it I might gain,
The wealth of all
America
and
Spain.
For, this makes sweet my life; and when I die,
Will bring the sleep of Dea
•
h on quietly.
Yea, such as greatest pomp, in life time have;
Shall find no warmer lodging, in their Grave.
Besides;
I want not
many things they need,
Who Me in outward Fortunes do exceed.
I want no
Guard, or Coat of Musket proof;
My Innocence, is guardian strong enough.
I want no
Title; for, to be the Son,
Of the
Almighty;
is a glorious one:
I want no
Followers: for, through Faith I see
A troop of Angels, still attending me.
Through want of Friendship,
need I not
repine,
For God and Goodmen, are still friends of mine.
And when I journey to the
North,
the
East,
The pleasant
South,
or to the fertile
West;
I cannot want
for profferd Courtesies,
As far as our
Great-Britain's
Empire lies.
In every
Shire,
and Corner of the Land,
To welcome me, do Houses open stand,
Of best esteem: And Strangers to my face,
Have thought me worth the Feasting, & more grac
•
Then I will boast of: lest you may suspect,
That I those glories (which I scorn) affect.
Of my acquaintance were a thousand glad,
And sought it, though not wealth, nor Place I had,
For their advantage, And, if some more high,
(Who on the multitudes of friends rely)
Had but a Fortune equal unto me,
Their troupe of Followers would as slender be:
And those mong whom, they now esteem have woe
•
,
Would scarcely think them, worth the looking on.
I want no
Office; for (though none be void)
A Christian finds, he may be still employd.
I want no
Pleasures, for I pleasures make,
What ever God is pleasd, I undertake.
Companions
want I not,
For know, that I,
Am one, of that renowned
Society:
Which by the
Name
we carry, first was known,
At
Antioch,
so many years agone.
And greatest Kings, themselves have happy thought
Tho
•
•
o this noble
Order,
they were brought.
I want not
Arms, to sit me for the Field;
My
Prayers,
are my Sword; my
Faith,
my Shield:
By which, (how ere you prize them) I have got,
Vnwounded,
•
horow twenty thousand Shot.
And with these Arms, I Heaven think to skale,
Though Hell the Ditch were, & more high the Wall.
A thousand other Privileges more,
I do possess; in which the world is poor.
Yea, I so long could reckon, you would grant,
That though I nothing have;
I nothing want.
And did the
King,
but know how rich I were;
I durst to pawn my Fortunes, he would swear,
That were he not the
King;
I had been
He,
Whom he (of all men) would have wisht to be.
Nec Curo.
THen, to vouchsafe me yet more favor here;
He that supplies my
Want,
hath took my
Care.
And when to bar me ought, he sees it fit,
He doth infuse a Mind to sleight at it.
Why, if He all things needful doth bestow,
Should I for what I have not, careful grow?
Low place I keep; yet to a
Greatness
borne,
Which doth the Worlds affected Greatness scorn:
I do disdain her glories and contemn,
Those muddy spirits that delig
•
t in them.
I care
for
no
man's Countenance, or grace,
Unless he be as good, as great in place.
For no man's spite, or envy do
I care:
For none have spite at me, that honest are.
I care not
for that baser wealth in which
Vice may become, as well as Virtue rich.
I care not
for their friendship, who have spent,
Loves best expressions, in mere Complement:
Nor for those Fauors (though a Queens they were)
In which I thought another had a share.
I care not
for their Praise, who do not show,
That in their lives, which they in words allow.
A rush
I care not
who condemneth me;
That sees not what, my Souls intentions be.
I care not
though to all men known it were,
Both whom I love, or hate; For none I fear.
I care not
though some Cou
•
tiers still prefer,
The Parasite, and smooth-tongu'd Flatterer,
Before my bold truth speaking
Lines,
And here,
If these should anger them,
I do not care.
I care not
for that goodly
Precious Stone;
Which
Chymists
have so fondly dored on.
Nor would I give a rot
•
en Chip, that I
Were of the
Rosie-Cross,
Fraternity:
For, I the world too well have understood,
As to be galled with such a
Brother-hood.
I care
for no more knowledge, then to know:
What I to God, and to my Neighbor owe.
For outward Beauties
I do nothing care,
So I within, my fair to God appear:
No other liberty
I care
to win,
But to be wholly free-ed from my sin.
Nor
more Ability (whilst I have breath)
Then strength to bear my Crosses to my death.
Nor
can the Earth afford a happiness
That shall be greater then this
Carelesnesse.
For such a
Life
I soon should
Careles
grow,
In which I had not leisure more to know.
Nor care I, in a knowledge pains to take,
Which doth not those, who get it, wiser make:
Nor for that
Wisdom,
do I greatly
care;
Which would not make me somewhat honester.
Nor for that moral
Honesty,
that shall
Refuse to join Religion, therewithal.
Nor for that zealous seeming
Piety.
Which wanteth love and moral Honesty.
Nor for their
Loves,
whose base affections be,
More for their lust, then for ought good in me:
Nor, for ought
good
within me should I care,
But that, they sprincklings of God's goodness are.
For many Books
I care not;
and my store
Might now suffice me, though I had no more,
Then God's two
Testaments,
and therewithal
That mighty
Uolume,
which the
World
we call.
For, these well looked on, well in mind preseru'd;
The present Ages passages observed:
My private Actions, seriously oreview'd.
My thoughts recald, and what of them ensu'd:
Are Books, which better far, instruct me can,
Then all the other Paper-works of Man?
And some of These, I may be reading to,
Where e're I come, or whatsoever I do.
I care not
though a sight of Idle
Guls,
(With lavish tongues and ever-empty skulls)
Do let my better tempered Labors lie;
And since, I Termely make not
Pamphlets
fly,
Say I am Idle, and do nothing now.
As if that I were bound, to let Them know,
What I were doing; Or to cast away
My breath, and Studies, on such fools as They.
I much disdain it: For, these Blocks be Those,
That use to read my
Verse
like ragged
Prose;
And such as (so their Books be new), never care
Of what esteem, nor of what use they are.
I care not,
though a vain and spongy crew,
Of shallow
Critics,
in each
Tavern
spew
Their drunken censures on my Poesie,
Until among their Cupps, they sprawling lie.
These poor, betattered
Rimers
(now and then)
With
Wine
and
Impudence
inspired can
Some fustian language utter, which doth seem
(Among their base admirers) worth esteem.
But those base Iuie-Poets never knew,
Which way, a sprightly, honest Rapture flew:
Nor can they relish, any strain of wit,
But, what was in some drunken fury, writ.
Those needy
Poetasters;
to prefer
Their nasty stuff to some dull
Stationer;
With Impudence extol it: and will tell him,
The very Title of their book shall sell him,
As many thousands of them (wholly told)
As ever of my
Satyrs,
have been sold,
Yet, e're a tweluemoneth by the walls it lies,
Or to the Kitchen or the Pastry hies.
Sometime, that these men's Rymes may heeded be,
They give (forsooth) a secret Ierke at me.
But so obscurely, that no man may know,
Who there was meant, until they tell them so.
For fearing me, They dare not to be plain,
And yet my vengeance they suspect in vain.
For I can keep my way, and careless be,
Though twenty snarling
Curres
do bark at me.
And while my Fame, those fools do murmur at,
(And vex themselves) with laughing, I am fat.
I am not much inquisitive to know,
For what brave Action our last Fleet did go:
What men abroad perform, or what at home,
Who shall be
Emperor,
or
Pope
of
Rome;
What news from
France,
or
Spain,
or
Turkey
are;
Whether of Merchandize, of Peace or War;
Whether
Mogul,
the
Sophy Prester-John,
The Duke of
China
or the I will
Iaphan,
The mightier be: for, things impertinent
To my particular, or my Content
I little heed (though much thereof I know)
Nor care I whether it be true or no.
Not for because I careless am become,
Of the neglected State of Christendom.
But, cause (I am assured) what ever shall
Unto the
Church
or
Common-wealth
befall;
(Through
Satan's
spite, or human Trechery,
Or our relying on weak
Policy)
God's promise to his glory shall prevail:
Yea, when the fond attempts of men do fail,
And they lie smoking, in th
•
infernal Pit;
Then
Truth
and
Virtue,
shall in Glory sit.
Those, who in love to things that wicked are;
And those, who through Cowardize and fear,
Became the damned Instruments, whereby
To set up
Vice
and
falsehoods
Tyranny;
Even those shall perish by their own offense:
And they who loved
Truth
and
Innocence,
Out of oppression shall advance their head:
And on the ruin
•
s of those
Tyrants
tread.
Oh! let that
Truth
and
Innocence,
in me
For ever vndefil
•
d preserved be:
And let me live no more: if then
I care,
How many miseries I live to bear.
For, well I know, I should not weigh how great,
The perils are, that my destruction threat.
Nor chains, nor dungeons should my soul affright,
Nor grimmest Apparitions of the Night:
Though men from Hell could of the Devil borrow,
Those ugly prospects, to augment my sorrow.
But prove me guilty; and my Conscience than
Inflicts more smart, then bloody Tortures can.
And none (I think) of me could viler deem;
Then I myself, unto myself should seem.
If good, and honest my endeavors be,
What day they were begun never troubles me.
I care not
whether it be calm, or blow.
Or rain, or shine, or freeze, or hail or snow:
Nor whether it be
Antumne,
or the
Spring;
Or whether, first I hear the
•
uckow sing,
Or first the Nightingale:
nor do I care
Wh
•
there my dreams of
Flowers,
or
Weddings
are.
What B
•
ast doth cross me,
care I not
at all;
Nor
how the Goblet, or the Salt doth fall;
Nor
what aspect the
Planets
please to show;
Nor
how the Diall, or the Clock doth go.
I do not care
to be inquisitive,
How many weeks, or months, I have to live.
For, how isit like, that I should better grow,
When I my Time shall tweluemonth longer know;
If I dare act, a Villany and yet,
Know I may die, whilst I am doing it?
Let them, whose brains are sick of that disease;
Be sl
•
ues unto an
Ephem
•
rides.
Search
Constellations,
and themselves apply;
To find the
Fate
of their
Nativity.
I will seek within me; and if there I find,
Those
Stars,
that should give light unto my mind,
Rise fair and timely in me and affect,
Each other with a natural aspect.
If in conjunction, there perceive I may
True
Uertue
and
R
•
ligion
every day:
And walk according to that influence,
Which is derived unto me from thence:
I fear no Fortunes, whatsoever they be,
Nor care I,
what my
Stars
do threaten me▪
For He, who to that State can once attain,
Above the power of all the Stars doth reign.
And he that gains a knowledge wherewithal,
He is prepard for whatsoever may fall:
In my Conceit is far a happier man,
Then such, as but foretell mis-fortunes can.
I start not at a
Friers
prophecy,
Or those with which we
Merlin
do bely.
Nor am I frighted with the sad relation,
Of any near-approaching Alteration.
For things have ever changd, and ever shall,
Until there be a change run over All.
And he that bears an honest heart about him,
Needs never fear, what changes be without him.
The
Eastern
Kingdoms, had their times to flor
•
sh
The
Grecian
Empire rising, saw them perish;
That fell and then the
Roman
Pride began;
Now scourged by the race of
Ottoman.
And if the course of things around must run,
Till they have ending, where they first begun,
What isit to me? who peradventure must,
Ere that befall, lie moulther'd into dust.
What if
America's
large Tract of ground,
And all those Isles adjoining, lately found?
(Which we more truly may a
Desert
call,
Then any of the worlds more civil Pale.)
What then? if there the Wilderness do lie,
To which the
Woman,
and her
S
•
xe
must fly,
To scape the
Dragons
fury; and there bide,
Till
Europes
thankelesse
Nations
(full of pride,
And all abomination) scourged are,
With Barbarism as their neighbors were?
If thus God please to do; and make our sin
The cause of bringing o her
Peoples
in,
His
Church
to be (as once he pleased was,
The
Gentiles
calling should be brought to pass,
The better, by the
Jewish
unbelief,)
Why, should his pleasure be my care, or grief?
Oh! let his
Name
and
Church
more glorious grow;
Although my ruin help to make it so.
So I, my duty in my place have done,
I
care not
greatly, what succeed theron:
For sure I am, if I can pleased be,
With what God wills; all shall be well for me.
I hate,
to have a thought over▪ serious spent,
In things mere trivial, or indifferent.
When I am hungry, so I get a dish,
I
care not,
whether it be flesh or fish;
Or anything, so wholesome food it be:
Nor care
I, whether you do carue to me,
The head, the tail, the wing, the leg, or none;
For, all I like, and all can let alone.
I
care not,
at your Table where I sit;
Nor should I think I were disgrac
•
t in it,
(So much as you) if I should thence in skoffe,
To feed among your Groomes be turned off.
For I am sure that no affront can blot,
His Reputation, that deserves it not.
To be over curious, I do not profess;
Nor ever cared
I, for vncleanlinesse.
For I never loved that Philosophy,
Which taught men to be rude and slouenly.
I care not
what you wears, or You, or He,
Nor of what fashion my next clothes shall be,
Yet to be singular in Antique fashions,
I hold as vain, as Apish imitations,
Of each phantastique garb our Gallants wear:
For some, as fondly proud conceited are,
To know, that the beholder, taketh note,
How they still keep their Grandsires iusset Coat:
As is the proudest Lady, when that she
Hath all the fashions, that last extant be.
I care for no
more Credit, then will serve,
The honor of the
Virtuous
to preserve:
For, if the shows of honesty in me,
To others Virtues, would no blemish be;
(Nor make them deemed Hypocrites) if I
Should falsely be accused of Villany:
Sure, whether I were innocent, or no;
I should not think the World, worth telling so,
Because to most men, nothing bad doth seem,
Nor nothing virtuous; but as unto them,
Occasion makes it good, or ill appear.
Yea, foulest Crimes, while they vnpunisht are:
Or bring in profit, no disgrace are thought;
And truest Virtues, poor, are set at naught.
I care for no
more Pleasures then will make,
The Way which I intend to undertake,
So passable; that my unwieldy load
Of fraileti
•
s, incident to flesh and blood
Discourage not my willing soul from that,
Which she on good advice, hath aimed at.
I care for no
more Time then will amount,
To do my work, and make up my account.
I care for no
more Money, then will pay
The reckoning, and the charges of the day.
And if I need not now, I will not borrow,
For fear of wants, that I may have tomorrow.
What Kings, and States-men mean;
I do not care;
Nor will I judge, what their intentions are:
For private censures, help not any way,
But injure them in their proceedings may.
Yet, Princes (by experience) we have seen,
By those they love, have greatly wronged been.
Their too much trust, doth often danger breed.
And Serpents in their Royal bosoms feed.
For, all the favors, gifts and places, which
Should honor them; do but these men enrich.
With those, they further their own private ends:
Their faction strengthen, gratify their friends:
Gaine new Associates, daily to their parts,
And from their Sovereign, steal away the hearts,
Of such as are about them; For those be
Their Creatures; and but rarely, thanks hath He,
Because the Grants of
Pension,
and of
Place;
Are taken as Their favors, not
His
grace.
And (which is yet a greater wickedness)
When these the loyal Subjects do oppress,
And grind the faces of the poor, alive;
They'le do it, by the Kings Prerogatiue.
They make
Him
Patron of their Villany;
And when
He
thinks they serve him Faithfully,
Secure him in their Loves, and all things do,
According both to
Law
and Conscience to;
By Virtue of his
Name,
they perpetrate
A world of Mischiefes: They abuse the State;
His truer-hearted Servants, they displace;
Bring their debauched Followers into grace;
His Coffers rob; yea (worser far they use
Him)
The true affections of his people loose Him:
And make those hearts (which did in him belieeue,
All matchless Virtues) to suspect, and grieve.
Now, (by that Loyaltie I owe my Prince)
This of all Treason, is the Quintessence.
A Treason so abhorred, that to Me,
No Treachery could half so odious be.
Not though my death they plotted; for more dear,
My honor, and my Friends affections are
Then twenty Kingdoms, and ten thousand lives.
And, whosoever, Me of that deprives:
I find it would, a great deal harder be,
To move my heart to pardon; then if he
Conspired had, (when I least thought the same)
To root out my posterity and
Name.
Who next in
Court
shall fall,
I do not care:
For, my delights, in no man's ruins are.
Nor mean I, to depend on any, so,
That his disgrace shall be my overthrow.
I care
as little, who shall next arise;
For none of my Ambition that way lies.
Those rising
Stars,
would never deign to shine,
On any good endeavor, yet, of mine.
Nor can I think there shall hereafter be,
A man amongst them, that will favor Me.
For, I a
Scourge
do carry, which doth fear them,
And love too much
Plain-dealing,
to be near them.
If my experience teach me anything,
I care not
old
Antiquities
to bring;
But can as well believe it to be so,
As if twere writ, three thousand years ago.
And where I find good ground for my assent,
I will not be halter'd to a
President.
If men speak reason, tis all one to me,
Whether their
Tenent, Aristotle's
be;
Or some
Barbarian
•
,
who scarce heard of yet;
So much as with what
Names
the
Arts
we fit.
Or whether, for an
Author
you infer,
Some
Fool,
or some renowned
Philosopher.
In my
Religion,
I dare entertain,
No fancies hatched in mine own weak brain;
Nor private
Spirits:
But, am ruled by
The
Scriptures;
and that
Church
Authority,
Which with the ancient
Faith
doth best agree,
But new opinions will not down with me.
When I would learn, I never greatly care,
So
Truth
they teach me, who my teachers were.
In points of
Faith
I look not on the
Man;
Nor
Beza, Calvin.
neither
Luther
can
More things, without just proof persuade me to,
Then any honest Parish-Clarke can do.
The ancient
Fathers
(where consent I find)
Do make me, without doubting of their mind.
But, where in his opinion any
One
Of these great
Pillers,
I shall find alone,
(Except in questions which indifferent are,
And such as till his Time, vnmooued were)
I shun his Doctrine; For, this swayeth me,
No man alone in points of Faith can be.
Old
Ambrose, Augustine, Jerome, Chrysostom,
Or any
Father;
if his Reverence come,
To move my free assent to anything,
Which
Reason
warrants not (unless he bring,
The sacred word of God to give me for it)
I prize not this opinion; but abhor it.
Nay, I no faction gainst the
Truth
would follow,
Although Diuinest
Paul,
and Great
Apollo,
Did lead me; if that possible it were,
That they should have permitted been to err.
And whilst that I am in the right
How wise, or learned. Them, you think, that are not, I care not
I care not,
who did hear me, if I said,
That he who for a place of Justice paid
A golden Inn-come, was no honest Man,
Nor he that sold it: for I prove it can,
And will maintain it, that so long as Those,
And
Church-preferments,
we to sale expose;
Nor
Common-wealth,
nor
Church
shall ever be,
From hateful Brib'ry, or damned Schism, free,
I may be blam
•
d, perhaps, for speaking t
•
ing this;
But much I
care not:
for the
truth it is.
And were I certain, that to blaze the same,
Would set those things (that are amiss) in frame.
Shame be my end but I would undertake it,
Though I were sure to perish when I spake it.
I care not
for
Preferments
which are sold,
And bought (by men of common worth) for gold,
For, he is nobler who can those contemn.
Then most of such, as seek esteem in them.
I do not
for those airy Titles
care,
Which fools, and knaves, as well as I may wear.
Or that my
Name
(when e're it shall be writ)
Should be obscured with twenty after it.
For could I set my mind on vulgar
Fame,
I would not think it hard to make my
Name,
Mine own
Name,
purchase me as true renown,
As to be called, by some old ruined Town.
I love my
Country,
yet
I do not care,
In what Dominions my abidings are:
For, any Region on the Earth shall be,
(On good occasion) native Soil to me.
I care not
though there be a muddy crew,
Whose blockishness (because it never knew
The ground of this my
Carelesnesse)
will smile,
As if they thought I raued, all this while.
For, those the
Prouerb
saith,
That live in Hell
Can never conceive what 'tis in Heaven to dwell.
I care not
for those Places, whereunto
Bad men
do sooner climb then
Good men
do:
And from whose ever-gogling station, all
May at the pleasure of another, fall.
But oh! How careless every way am I,
Of their base minds, who living decently
Upon their own Demeanes; there feareles might
Enioy the day from morning until night,
In sweet contentments: rendering praise to
Him,
Who gave this blessings, and this rest to them;
That free from Cares and Enuies of the Court,
They honored in their Neighbors good report;
Might twenty pleasures, that Kings know not, try,
And keep a quiet
Conscience,
till they die?
Oh God! how mad are they, who thus may do;
Yet, that poor happiness to reach unto,
Which is but painted; will those Blessings shun,
And bribe and woo, and sweat to be undone?
How dull are they? Who, when they home may keep
And there, upon their own soft pillow sleep,
In dear security; would roame about,
Vncertaine hopes, or pleasures to find out?
Yea, strain themselves a slippery place to buy,
With hazarding their states to beggary?
With giving up, their Liberties, their Fame?
With their adventuring on perpetual shame:
With prostituting
Neeces, Daughters, Wives,
By putting into Ieopardy their lives?
By selling of their
Country,
and the sale
Of
Justice,
of
Religion,
Soul and All?
Still dreaming on Content; although they may
Behold, by new examples, every day
That those hopes fail; and fail them not alone,
In such vain things as they presumed on:
But bring them also (many-times) those cares,
Those sad distractions, those despairs, and fears▪
That all their glorious gilding, cannot hide
Those woeful ruins on their inner-side.
But, ten to one, at length they do depart,
With loss, with shame, and with a broken heart.
I care not
for this Humor, but I had,
Far rather lie in
Bedlem
chained and mad,
Then be, with these men's frantique mood possessed:
For there they do less harm, and have more rest.
I care not
when there comes a
Parliament:
For I am no proiector, who invent
New
Monopolies,
or such
Suites,
as Those,
Who, wickedly pretending goodly shows,
Abuses
to reform, engender more;
And far less tolerable, then before.
Abusing
Prince,
and
State,
and
Common-weal;
Their (just deserved) beggeries to heal:
Or, that their ill-got profit, may advance,
To some Great Place, their Pride, and Ignorance.
Nor by Extortion, nor through Bribery,
To any Seat of Justice, climb'd am I;
Nor live I so, as that I need
to care,
Though my proceedings, should be questioned there.
And some there be, would give their Coat away,
That they could this as confidently say.
I care
for no such thriving Pollicy,
As makes a fool, of Morrall Honesty.
For, such occasions happen now and than:
That He proves Wise, that proves an Honest man.
And howsoere our
Pr
•
iect-mongers
deem,
Of such men's Fortunes, and of them esteem;
(How big soe're they look; how brave soe're,
Among their base Admirers they appear:
Though never so trim, in others feathers dight;
Though clad with Title of a Lord, or Knight;
And by a hundred thousand croucht unto)
Those gaudv Vpstarts, no more prize, I do,
Then poorest
Kennell-rakers;
yea, they are
Things, which I count, so little worth my care;
That (as I love fair
Virtue)
I protest,
Among all honest men the beggerl'est,
And most betatter'd Pesant, in mine eye,
Is Nobler, and more full of Majesty;
Then all that brave bespangl'd Rabblement,
Composd of Pride, of Shifts, and Complement.
Let great and Courtly Pers'nages delight,
In some dull
Gest
•
r,
or a
Parasite;
Or in their dry
Buffoone,
that gracefully,
Can sing them baudy songs, and swear, and lie;
And let their
Mastership
(if so they please)
Still favor more, the slauerings of These,
Then my free
Numbers.
For, I care no more,
To be approved, or esteemed, for
A witty
Make-sport;
then an
Ape
to be.
And whosoever takes delight in me,
For any quality that doth affect
His
Senses
better, then his
Intellect;
I care not
for his love. My dog doth so;
He loves, as far as sensual love can go,
And if how well he loved me, I did weigh,
Deserues (perhaps) as much respect, as they.
I have a
Soul,
and must beloved be
For that which makes a lovely
Soul
in me;
Or else, their Loves, so little
care I
for,
That them, and their affections I abhor.
I care not,
though some Fellowes, whose desert
Might raise them, to the Pillory, or Cart,
The Stocks, the Branding-iron, or the Whip.
(With such like due Preferment) those do skip;
And by their black endeavors purchase can,
The Privileges of a Noble man.
And be as confident, in what they do:
As if by virtue they were raised thereto.
For, as true Virtue hath a confidence,
So, Vice, and Villaines have their impudence.
And manly Resolution, both are thought,
Till both are to an equal Trial brought;
But vicious Impudence, then proves a mock:
And Virtuous Constancy, endures the Shocke.
Though such unworthy
Groomes,
who toother day,
Were but their Masters
Panders
to puruey
The fuel of their Lust; and had no more,
But the Reuertion of their meat, their Whore,
And their old clothes to brag of. Though that these;
(The foes to Virtue, and the Times disease)
Have now, to cover over their knavery,
Got on the Robes, of Wealth, and Brauery;
And dare behave their Rogueships saucily,
In preseuce of our old Nobility:
As if they had been borne to act a part,
In the contempt of Honor, and Desert.
Though all this be; and though it often hath
Discourag'd many a one, in
Virtues
Path,
I am the same, and
Care not:
For, I know,
Those
Butter-flies,
have but a Time to show
Their painted wings; that when a storm is near,
Our habits, which for any weather are,
May show more glorious, whilst they shrinking lie,
In some old creuise, and there starve and die.
Those Dues, which unto
Virtue
do belong,
He that despiseth, offers
Virtue
wrong.
So, he that follows
Virtue
for rewards;
And more the Credit, then the Act regards;
(Or such esteem as others seek, doth miss)
Himself imagines worthier then He is.
If therefore, I can tread the way I ought,
I care not
how ignoble I be thought:
Nor for those Honors do I care a fly,
Which any man can give me, or deny:
For what I reckon worth aspiring to,
Is got and kept, whe
•
others will or no.
And all the world can never raise a man
To such brave heights, as his own Virtues can.
I care not
for that Gentry, which doth lie
In nothing but a Coat of Heraldry.
One Virtue more I rather wish I had,
Then all the Heralds to mine
Arms
could add:
Yea, I had rather, by my industry
I could acquire someone good quality,
Then through the
Families,
that noblest be
From fifty Kings to draw my Pedigree.
Of
Nations,
or of
Countries, I naught care,
To be Commander; my Ambitions are,
To have the Rule, and Soueraignty of things,
Which do command, great Emperors, and Kings.
Those strong, and mighty Passions, wherewithal
Great Monarchs have been foyld, & brought in th
•
all;
I hope to trample on. And whilst that they
Force but my body (if I disobey)
I rule that Spirit; which would they contstrain
Beyond my will; They should attempt in vain.
Yea, whilst they bounded within Limits here,
On some few Mortals, only domineer,
Those Titles, and that Crown, I do pursue,
Which shall the Devils to my pour subdue.
I care not
for that
Ualour,
which is got
By furious Choller, or the
Sherry-pot.
Nor (if my Cause be ill) to hear men say,
I fought it out, even when my bowels lay
Beneath my feet. A desperateness it is,
And there is nothing worthy praise in this;
For I have seen (and you may see it to)
That any Mastiue dog as much will do.
He valiant is, who knows the dis-esteem,
The vulgar have, or such as Cowards seem.
And yet dares seem one, rather then bestow
Against an honest cause, or word, or blow:
Though, else he feared no more, to fight, or die,
Then you to strike a dog, or kill a fly.
Yea, him I honor, who new wakt from sleeping,
Finds all his Spirits so their temper keeping;
As that he would not start, though by him there,
Grim Death, and Hell, and all the Devils were.
I care not
for a Coward, for to me,
No Beasts on Earth, more truly hateful be;
Since all the villainies that can be thought
Throughout the world, and altogether brought,
To make one Villaine; can make nothing more,
Then he that is a Coward, was before.
And he that is so, can be nothing less,
Then the perfection of all wickedness.
In him no manly Virtues dwelling are,
Nor any shows thereof, except for fear.
In no brave resolution is he strong,
Nor dares he bide in any goodness long.
For, if one threatening from his foe there come,
His vowed Resolution starts he from.
And cares not what destruction others have,
So he may gain but hope himself to save.
The man that hath a fearful heart, is sure
Of that disease that never finds a cure.
For take and arm him through in every place,
Build round about him twenty walls of Brasse.
Girt him with Trenches, whose deep bottoms lie
Thrice lower, then three times the
Alps
are hye.
Prouide (those Trenches, and those walls toward)
A Million of old Soldiers for his guard,
All honest men and sworn: His Feauer will
Break in (despite of all) and shake him still.
To scape this fear, his Guard he would betray,
Make cruelly his dearest friend away;
Act any base, or any wicked thing,
Be Traytour to his Country, or his King,
For-swear his God, and in some fright go nigh
To hang himself, to scape the fear to die.
And for these reasons,
I shall never care,
To reckon them for friends, that Cowards are.
I care not
for large Fortunes: For I find,
Great wants, best try the Greatness of the mind.
And though I must confess, such Times there be,
In which the common wish, hath place in me.
Yet, when I search my heart, and what content
My God vouchsafe me hath; I count my Rent
To be above, a thousand pound a year,
More then it can unto the World appear.
And with more wealth, I less content might find,
If I with riches, had some rich-man's mind.
A dainty Pallate would consume in cheer,
(More then I do) an hundred pounds a year,
And leave me worse sufficed then I am.
Had I an inclination, much to game;
A thousand Markes, would aunually away,
And yet I want my full content at Play.
If I in Hawkes or Doggs had much delight,
Twelue hundred Crowns it yearly waste me might;
And yet, not half that pleasure bring me to,
Which from one
Line
of This, receive I do.
If I to brave Apparel were inclind;
Five
Students
Pensions, I should ye
•
rely spend,
Yet not be pleased so well, with what I wear,
As now I am; Nor take so little Care
I much for Physic might be forced to give,
And yet a thousand fold, less healthy live.
To keep my Right, the Law my goods might wast,
And with vexation tire me out at last.
These, and (no doubt) with these full many a thing
To make me less Content, more wealth might bring,
Yet more employ me to; for few I see
Who owners of the greatest Fortunes be:
But they have still, as they more riches gain,
More State, more lusts, more troubles to maintain
With their Reuennues. That the whole account,
Of their great seeming Bliss, doth scarce amount
To half of my content. And can I less
Esteem this rare acquired Happiness,
Then I, a thousand pounds in Rent would prize?
Since with less trouble, it doth more suffice?
No; for as when the March is swift and long,
And men have foes to meet, both fierce and strong;
That Soldier in the Conflict best doth fare,
Who getteth Arms of proof, that lightest are:
So I, who with a little, do enjoy
As much my Pleasure and Content, as they.
Whom far more wealth and business doth molest;
Account my Fortune, and Estate the best.
God's favor in it, I extol the more:
And great possessions, much less
care I for.
I care not
so I still myself may be,
What others are, or who takes place of me.
I care not
for the times unjust neglect;
Nor fear their frowns, nor praise their vain respect.
For, to myself my worth doth never seem;
Or more, or less, for other men's esteem.
The
Turk,
the
Devil, Antichrist,
and all
The Rabble of that Body-mystical,
I care not
for; and I should sorry be,
If I should give them cause to care for me.
What Christians ought not to b
•
careful for▪
What the
Eternal Essence
doth abhor,
I hate as I am able; and for ought
Which God approves not, when I spend a thought.
I truly wish that from my eyes might rain,
A shower of Tears, to buy it back again.
I care not
for their Kin, who blush to see,
Those of their blood, who are in mean degree.
For, that bewrays unworthiness; and shows,
How they by Chance, and not by Virtue rose.
To say,
My Lord, my Cousen,
can to me
(In my opinion) no such honor be;
(If he from virtues precepts go astray)
As when
my honest Kinsman)
I can say.
And they are fools, who, when they raised are;
Faine their beginnings, nobler then they were.
Yea, they do rob themselves of truest Fame,
With some false honor to bely their Name.
For, such as to the highest Titles rise,
From poor beginnings, nobler then they were.
To honor and observe them (far) then all
That do succeed them, ever boast of, shall,
For, being nothing more then they were borne,
Men heed them not (unless they merit scorn)
For some unworthiness. And then, perchance,
As their forefathers meanness, did advance
His praise the higher; so their Greatness shall,
Make greater both their Infamy, and Fall.
It is men's glory therefore, not a blot,
When they the start, of all their Names have got;
And it was worthless Envy, first begun,
That false opinion, which so far hath run.
Which well they know, whose Virtues honor win,
And shame not to confess their poorest Kin.
For, whensoever they do look on those,
To God they praises give and thus suppose:
Loe; when the hand of heaven, advanced us,
Above our brethren, to be lifted thus;
He let them stay behind, for marks to show,
From whence we came, and whither we may go.
To have the mind of those,
I do not care,
Who both so shameless, and so foolish are,
That to acquire some poor esteem, where they
Were never heard of, until yesterday,
(And never shall perhaps, be thought on more)
Can Prodigally there, consume their store:
And stand upon their points of honor so,
As if their credit had an overthrow,
Without redemption: If in ought they miss,
Wherein th'accomplish
Gallant
punctual is.
Yet basely, every quality despise,
In which true Wisdom, and true honor lies.
If you, and one of those, should dine today,
Twere three to one, but he for all would pay:
If but your servant light him to the door,
He will reward him: If but he, and's whore,
Carocht a Furlong are; the Coachman may,
For sennight after, let his Horses play,
And yet, this fellow, whom abroad you shall
Perceiue so noble, and so liberal,
(To gain a days, perhaps, but one hours Fame)
Mong those that hardly, will inquire his name.
At home (where every good, and every ill,
Remains to honor, or to shame him still)
Neglects Humanity. Yea, where he lives,
And needs most love; all cause of hatred gives,
To pool, to rack, to ruin, and oppress,
The poor, the widow and the fatherless.
To shift, to lie, to cozen, and delay,
The Lab'rer and the Creditor of pay,
Are there his practices. And yet this Ass,
Would for a man of worth, and honor pass,
The Devil he shall as soon: and I will write,
The Story of his being Conuertite.
I care not
for the worlds vain blast of
Fame,
Nor do I greatly fear the Trump of shame:
For whatsoever good, or ill is done,
The rumor of it in a week is gone.
One thing put out another; and men sorrow,
To day, yerhaps, for what they joy tomorrow.
And it is likely, that ere night they may,
Condemne the man, they pleased yesterday?
Hand him next morning, and be sorry then,
Because he cannot be alive agen.
But, grant the fame of things had larger date:
Alas! what glory is it if men prate
In some three Parishes of that we do,
When three great Kingdoms are but Mole-hills to,
The earths Circumference? and scarce one man
Of twenty Millions, know our actions can?
Believe me, it is worth so little thought,
(If the offense to others were not ought)
What men's opinions, or their speeches be;
That were there not a better cause in me,
Which moou'd to
Virtue) I would never care,
Whether my actions good or evil were.
Though still vnheeded of the World, I spend
My Time and Studies, to the noblest end;
One hair,
I care not.
For, I find reward,
Beyond the Worlds requital, or regard.
And since all men, some things erroneous do,
And must in Justice, somewhat suffer to,
In part of my correction. This I take;
And that I fauourd am, account do make.
I care not,
though, there every hour, should be
Some outward discontent to busy me.
And, as I would not too much trial have;
So, too much carnal peace I do not crave.
The one, might give my Faith a dangerous blow;
The other would pervert my life, I know.
For, few love
Uertue
in adversity;
But fewer hold it in Prosperity.
Vain
Hopes
(when I had naught. but hopes alone)
Have made me err: Then whither had I gone,
(If I, the full possession had attained)
When, but mere Hopes, my heart to folly traind?
Smoth
Waies
would make me wantō: and my course
Must lie, where Labor, Industry, and Force,
Must work me Passage: or, I shall not keep
My Soul from dull Securities, dead-sleep:
But, outward discontentments make me fly
Far higher, then the worlds
Contents
do lie.
I neither
for their pomp, or glory
care;
Who by the love of vice advanced are.
Faire
Virtue
is the lovely Nimph I serve;
Her will I follow, her
Commands
observe;
Yea, though the purblindworld perceive not where,
The best of all her
Fauours
I do wear.
And, when great
Ui
•
es,
with fair baited hooks,
Large promises of favor tempting looks,
And twenty wiles, hath wooed me to betray,
That noble
Mistress;
I have turned away:
And flung defiance both at Them and Theirs,
Inspight of all their gaudy
Seruitors.
In which brave daring, I opposed have been
By mighty Tirants; and was plunged in
More wants, then thrice my fortunes would have
When our
Heroes
did, or fear, or scorn,
To lend me succor (yea, in that weak age, borne,
When I but newly entered on the Stage
Of this proud world) So that, unless the King
Had nobly pleasde, to hear the
Muses
sing,
My bold
Appologie;
Till now, might I
Have struggling been, beneath their Tyranny.
But all those threatening
Comets,
I have seen
Blaze, till their glories quite extinct have been.
And I, that crushed and lost was thought to be;
Live yet, to pity those, that spighted me;
Enioying Hopes which so well grounded are,
That, what may follow, I nor fear,
nor care.
Yet those I know there be, who do expect,
What length my Hopes shall have, and what effect.
With envious eyes awaiting every day,
When all my confidence shall slip away.
And make me glad, through those base paths to fly,
Which they have trod, to raise their Fortunes by.
They flout to hear, that I do Conscience make,
What Place I sue for, or what Course I take.
They laugh to see me spend my youthful time,
In serious
Studies;
and to teach my
Rime
The
Straines
of
Virtue;
whilst I might perchance,
By Lines of Ribaldry, myself advance
To place of favor. They make skoffes, to hear
The praise of Honesty; as if it were,
For'none but vulgar minds. And since they live
In brave prosperity, they do believe
It shall continue: and account of Me,
As one scarce worthy of their scorn to be.
All this is
Truth;
yea, trust me,
care I not;
Nor love I
Virtue,
ought the worse a jot.
For, I oft said, that I should live, to see
My
Way,
far safer then their Courses be,
And I have seen, nor one, nor two, nor ten,
But (in few years) great numbers of those men,
From goodly bravery, to rags decline,
And wait upon as poor a
Fate
as mine.
Yea those, whom but a day or two before,
Were (in their own vain hopes) a great deal more
Then any of our Auncient
Baronage:
(And such as many Wisemen of this age,
Have wisht to be the men) eu'n those, have I
Seene hurled down to shame, and beggary,
In one twelve hours: and grow so miserable,
That they became the scornful, hateful fablo
Of all the Kingdom. And there's none so base,
But thought himself, a man in better case.
This, makes me pleased with mine own estate,
And fearful to desire another's Fate.
This makes me
Carelesse
of the worlds proud scorn,
And of those glories, whereto such are borne.
And, if to have me, still kept mean and poor,
To God's great Glory, shall ought add the more:
Or if to have disgraces heaped on me;
(For others, in their way to Bliss) may be
Of more Advantage, then to see me thrive
In outward Fortunes, or more prized live:
I care not
though I never see that day,
Which with one pinns-worth more enrich me may.
Yea, by the eternal
Dietie
I vow;
Who knows I lie not, who doth hear me, now.
Whose dreadful Majesty is all I fear,
Of whose great
Spirit,
These the sparklings are,
And who will make me, such proud daring, rue;
If this my protestation be untrue.
So I may still retain that in Peace,
That love and taste, of the eternal Bliss;
Those matchless comforts, and those brave desires,
Those sweet Contentments, and immortal Fires,
Which at this instant do inflame my breast;
(And are to excellent to be expressed.)
I do not care
a Rush, though I were borne,
Unto the greatest Pouerty; and scorn:
That (since God first infusde it; with his breath)
Poor flesh and blood, did ever groan beneath.
Excepting only, such a load it were,
As no
Humanity
was made to bear.
Yea, let me keep these Thoughts; and let be hurld,
Upon my back, the spite of all the world,
Let me have neither drink, nor bread to eat,
Nor Clothes to wear, but those for which I sweat.
Let me become unto my foes a slave;
Or, causeless here the marks of justice, have;
For some great villainy, that I nere thought,
Let my best actions, be against me brought.
That small repute, and that poor little Fame,
Which have got; let men unto my shame
Hereafter turn. Let me become the fable,
A talk of fools Let me be miserable,
In all men's eyes, and yet let no man spare,
(Though that would make me happy) half a tear.
Nay (which is more unsufferable far,
Then all the miseries yet spoken are)
Let that dear
Friend,
whose love is more to me,
Then all those drops of Crymson liquor be,
That warm my heart (and for whose only good:
I could the brunt, of all this Care have stood)
Let him forsake me. Let that prized Friend,
Be cruel to; and when distrest, I send
To seek his Comfort, let him look on me,
With bitter scorn, and so hard-hearted be;
As that (although he know me innocent,
And how those miseries I underwent,
In love to him) He, yet deny me should,
One gentle look, though that suffice me could.
And (truly grieu'd, to make me) bring in place,
My well known Foe, to scorn me to my face.
Let this befall me; and with this, beside,
Let me, be for the faulty friend belide.
Let my Religion, and my honesty;
Be counted till my death Hypocrisy.
And, when I die, let till the general
Doome,
My
Name,
each hour into question come,
For
Sins
I never did. And if to this,
You ought can add, which yet more grievous is,
Let that befall me to; So that, in Me,
Those comforts may increase, that springing be,
To help me bear it. Let that Grace descend,
Of which I now, some portion apprehend:
And then, as I already (heretofore)
(Upon my
Makers
strength, relying) swore,
So, now I swear again; If ought it could,
God's glory further, that I suffer should:
Those Miseries recited:
I nor care,
How soon they ceazd me, nor how long they were:
For, He can make them Pleasures, and I know;
As long as he inflicts them, will do so.
Nor unto this Assurance am I come,
By any
Apothegmes,
gathered from
Our old, and much admired
Philosophers.
My Sayings are mine own, as well as theirs;
For, whatsoever account of them is made,
I have as good experience of them had:
Yea, when I die (though now they slighted be)
The
Times
to come, for Them, shall honor me,
And praise that
Mind
of mine, which now perchance,
Shall be reputed foolish Arrogance.
Oh! that my
Lines
were able to express,
The Cause, and Ground, of this my
Carelesnesse.
That I might show you, what brave things they be,
Which at this instant are a fire in me.
Fools may deride me, and suppose, that This
(No more) but some vain-glorious
Humour
is;
Or such like idle
Motion,
as may rise,
From furious, and distempered
Phantasies.
But, let their thoughts be free; I know the Flame
That is within me, and from whence it came;
Such things have filled me, that I feel my brain,
Wax giddy, those high Raptures to contain.
They raise my Spirits, which now whi
•
ling be,
As if they meant to take their leave of me.
And could these
Straines
of
Contemplation,
slay
To lift me higher still, but half a day:
By that Time, they would mount to such a height,
That all my
Cares
would have an end to Night.
But oh! I feel the fumes of flesh and blood,
To clog those Spirits in me, and like mudd,
They sink again. More dimly burn my fires;
To Her low pitch, my
Muse
again retires:
And as her Heavenly flames extinguishtbe,
The more I find my Cares to burden me.
Yet, I believe, I was enlightened so,
That never shall my Spirit stoop so low,
To let the servile thoughts, and dunghill cares,
Of common Minds, entrap me in their snares.
For, still I value not, those things of naught,
For which the greatest part, take greatest thought.
Much for the world
I care not;
and (confess)
Desire I do, my care for it, were less.
I do not care,
(for ought they me could harm)
If with more mischiefs, this last Age did swa
•
e;
Yea such poor
Joy
I have or
Care
to see
The best Contents these Times can promise Me:
And that small
fear
of any Plague at all,
(Or Miseries) which on this Age may fall.
That, but for Charity,
I did not care
If all those coming storms, which some do fear,
Were now descending down: For Hell can make,
No vpro
•
re, which my peaceful thoughts may shake.
I founded have my Hopes on him that hath
A shelter for me, in the day of w
•
ath.
And I have trust, I shall (without a maze,)
Look up, when all burns round me in a blaze.
And if to have these Thoughts, & this Mind known
Shall spread God's praise no further then mine own:
Or, if
This
shall no more instructiue be,
To others; th
•
it glory is to Me:
Here le
•
i
•
perish, and he
•
led by,
Into Obliuion everlastingly.
For, with this
Mind,
I can be pleased; (as much)
Though none but I myself did know it such.
And, he that hath contentment,
needs not care;
What other me
•
opinions of it, are.
I care not;
though for many griefs to come,
To live an hundred year
•
, it were my
Doome.
Nor care I
though I summoned be, away,
At
Nigh
•
to Morrow-m
•
ning,
or to
Day.
I care not
whether
This,
you read or no;
Nor whether you believe it, if you do.
I care no
•
whether any Man suppose
All
This
from Judgment, or from Rash
•
es flows.
Nor mean I, to take
Care
what any Man,
Will think thereof: Or Comment on it can.
I care not
who shall fondly censure it;
Because it was not with more
M
•
thod
writ:
Or fram d in imitation, of the
Straine.
In some deep
Grecian
or old
Roman
vain.
Yea, though that all men living should despise,
These Thoughts in Me, to heed, or Patronize:
I vow,
I care not▪
And I vow, no less,
I care not
who dislikes this
Carelesnesse.
My
Mind's
my Kingdom; and I will permit,
No other
•
Will,
to have the rule of it.
For, I am free; and no man's power (I know)
Did make me thus, nor shall vnmake me now.
But, through a Spirit none can quench in me:
This
Mind
I got, and this, my
Mind
shall be.
To Envy.
NOw look upon Me,
Envy,
if thou dare,
Dart all thy Malice, shoot me everywhere:
Try all the ways thou canst, to wake me feel,
The cruel sharpness of thy poys'ned steel.
For, I am
Envy-proof,
and scorn I do;
The worst, thy cancred spite, can urge thee to.
This Word,
I care not,
is so strong a
Charme,
That He, who speaks it truly, fears no harm,
Which thy accursed Rancor, harbor may;
Or, his peruersest Fortunes, on him lay.
Go, hateful
Fury; Hagge,
go, hide thou then,
Thy snakie head, in thy abhorred Deu.
And since thou canst not have thy will of Me:
There;
Damned Fiend,
thine own Tormentresse
•
e,
Thy forked stings, upon thy body turn;
With Hellish flames, thy scorched entrails burn;
From thy leave Carkasse, thy black sin
•
wes tear,
With thine own
Venome
burst, and perish there.
Nec Habeo, nec Careo, nec Curo.
A Postscript.
QVite through this
Island
hath my
Motto
rung,
And twenty days are past, since up I hung
My bold
Impreza:
which defiance throws,
At all the malice of fair
Virtues
foes.
The
Good
approve it; and so crown the Cause
Of this my Resolution, with applause:
That such as spite it, dare not to appear,
In opposition to the
Challenger.
Their
Malice
would enforce them; but, it lies
Oppressed yet, with fearful
Cowardize;
For, they so armed have found me, that they fear,
I may (in spite of all their
Envy)
bear
The Conquest from them: and upon the Face,
Of their be-spotted
Fame,
stick more disgrace.
This,
makes them
Storm
in private,
Slander, Rail,
Threat, Libell, Ryme, Detract;
and to prevail
Upon my
Patience,
try their utmost Art,
But, I still mind my
Motto's
latter-part,
And
Care not
for it: which more makes them cha
•
e;
And still the more they fret, the more I laugh.
But, now their
Enuies
have so well conspired,
That they have
〈◊〉
the
Proiect
they desired;
And took such course, that (if their word you take)
Shall move my
Choller,
and my
Patience
shake.
Forsooth, some
Rimers
they have her'd, to chew
Their
Rankor
into Balladry, and spew
Their black Despight, which to a drunken note,
They, in a hundred
Taverns,
have by roate
Already belcht unto that
Auditory,
Who are the fittest
Trumpets
of their Story.
When their
Inuentions
(by the pour Divine
Of much-inspiring
Sacke
and
Claret-wine)
Are ripened to the highest; then, they say
The
Stationer
expects it every day:
And that he may a saving bargain make,
(A forehand) doth his
Customers
bespeak.
But when these
Brain-worms
crawling forth you
(As pity twere, such wit should smotherd lie)
They will bewray the
Sires;
and makit appear, spy
That
Ignorance,
and
Envy
Parents were
To that despiteful Issue: So, that he
Who shall a Rush the less, esteem of
Me,
For ought there Writ: eu'n (He) is one of
Them,
Whose
Hate,
and whose
Affection
I contemn.
The
Instruments
they get to serve the turn,
Are those, that are unworthy of my Scorn:
And if contend, or answer them I should;
It more might wrong me, then their Riming could.
As therefore, when an armed Soldier feels
A testy
Curr,
in vain to gnaw his Heeles;
He minds not Him: but spends his blows upon
Those churlish Peasants, that did set him on.
So; I, that know these
Dogs
do but their kind;
Well, let them bark, & f
•
arle, & spend their wind,
Till they grow weary. But, let them sit strong.
That urge them to it; or I lay along
Their high
Top-gallant;
where each Groome shall see
How worthy Scorn, and infamy they be.
For, they who are their
Patrons
are such Foes,
As I may somewhat worthyly oppose:
And I will vnmaske them so, that you shall spy
In them,
Detractions
true
Anatomy.
Yea, whereas they have by their malice, thought
To have on me their spiteful pleasures wrought;
I will from their
Censures,
an occasion take
To show how other men a sport shall make
At all
Detractions;
So, those slaves undo,
Who that base practice are inclined unto.
Rail they that list: for, those men know not yet,
What mind I have; who think the man that writ
This
Motto,
can be ever brought to fear
Such poor fond things, as idle
Carpers
are;
Nay rather, from those Slanders they shall raise,
I will advantage gather for my praise:
While they that in my shame would take delight,
Shall gnaw their flesh through vengeance, & despite
To see how I, vnmou'd their envy mock,
And make of them this Ages laughing-stock.
For, lest to have prevailed they should seem;
And so grow wise men in their own esteem:
(Or, by their foolish brags, dishearten such,
Whose resolutions are not grown so much)
When I at leisure am; for Recreation,
•
e merry make myself, to their vexation;
Yet shall my Mirth from Malice be so free,
That though I bitter to the guilty be.
It shall appear that I in love do scourge them;
That of their foul Corruptions I may purge them.
And that it may be known how Virtue hath
A sting to punish, though not moou'd to wrath.
But go; and for the
Pamphlet
seek about,
For, yet ere night (tis thought) it will come out.
Yet, when you find it; Do not look for there
His wit alone, whose Name you see it bear:
(For though you nothing can collect from thence,
But foul-mouthd
Language, Rime
and
Impudence)
Yet there expect, (since tis the common cause
Of all
Crowe-Poets,
and
Poeticke-Daws,
Which I have touched) that all the
Brotherhood,
Will lend their wits to make the Quarrell good.
For, to that purpose they are all combind;
Yea, to their strong
Confed'racy
are ioynd,
That
Corporation,
by whose Patronage,
Such
Poetry
hath flourished in this Age:
And some beside, that dare not yet be known,
Have favor, to this goodly Proiect shown.
But, let them join their force; For I had rather
Ten Millions should themselves against Me gather
•
(And blot and practice for my overthrow)
Then be the
Conqueror
of one base Foe.
For, as mine enemies increasing be;
So, Resolution doth increase in me:
And if I must have foes, my
Fates
shall friend me;
If great and noble enemies they send me.
But, whether on mean Foes, or great I light,
My
Spirit
will be greater then their spite.
An Epigram, written by the Author on his own Picture; where this Motto was inscribed.
THus, others Loves, have set my shadow forth,
To fill a Roome, with
Names
of greater worth:
And
Me,
among the rest, they set to show.
Yet, what I am, I pray mistake not, though.
Imagine me, nor
Earl,
nor
Lord,
nor
Knight;
Nor any new advanced
Fauorite.
For, you would swear; if
This
well pictured me,
That such a One I never were like to be.
No child of purblind
Fortun's
was I borne;
For all that issue holdeth
Me
in scorn.
Yet,
He
that made
Me
hath assured
Me
to,
Fortune
can make no such; nor such undo.
And bids me, in no Fauours take delight;
But what I shall acquire, in
Her
despite.
Which
Mind,
in Raggs, I rather wish to bear,
Then rise through baseness, brauest Robes to wear
•
Part of my
Outside
hath the Picture shown;
Part of my
Inside,
by these
Lines
is known:
And tis no matter of a rush to me,
How
This,
or
That,
shall now esteemed be.
FINIS.