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If thou 'dst but use thy faith as thou didst then,
All men are worms, but this no man. In silk
TO FOOL, OR Knave.
Thy praise or dispraise is to me alike:
One doth not stroke me, nor the other strike.
ON LUCY, COUNTESS OF BEDford*.
I thought to form unto my zealous Muse,
To honour, serve, and love, as Poets use.
Of greatest blood, and yet more good than great;
I meant the day-star should not brighter rise,
Nor lend like influence from his lucent seat.
I meant she should be courteous, facile, sweet,
I purposed her that should, with even powers,
Of Destiny, and spin her own free hours.
1 Censure = criticise. 2 This this is. • Wife of Edward, third Earl of Bedford. and Daniel.
Compare Pope's 'Sporus.'
She was also sung by Donne
AN EPITAPH ON SALATHIEL PAVY, A CHILD OF
Weep with me, all you that read
And know, for whom a tear you shed
'Twas a child that so did thrive
In grace and feature,
As Heaven and Nature seemed to strive
Years he numbered scarce thirteen
Yet three filled zodiacs had he been
And did act, what now we moan,
Old men so duly,
As, sooth, the Parcæ thought him one,—
So, by error to his fate
They all consented;
But viewing him since, alas, too late
And have sought to give new birth
But being so much too good for earth,
EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH L. H.
Underneath this stone doth lie
These children (called in the next reign Children of Her Majesty's Revels) were trained up to act before the Queen. Salathiel had acted in two of Jonson's plays, in 1600, and in 1601, when he is supposed to have died.
If at all she had a fault,
Leave it buried in this vault.
Fitter, where it died to tell,
AN ODE TO HIMSELF.
Where dost thou careless lie
And this security,
It is the common moth
That eats on wits and arts, and [that]1 destroys them both.
Are all the Aonian springs
Dried up? lies Thespia waste? Doth Clarius' harp want strings, That not a nymph now sings;
Or droop they as disgraced,
To see their seats and bowers by chattering pies defaced?
If hence thy silence be,
As 'tis too just a cause, Let this thought quicken thee:
Minds that are great and free
Should not on fortune pause;
'Tis crown enough to virtue still, her own applause
What though the greedy fry
Be taken with false baits
Of worded balladry,
And think it poësy?
They die with their conceits,
And only piteous scorn upon their folly waits.
1. That' conj.
Then take in hand thy lyre;
To give the world again:
And, since our dainty age
Cannot endure reproof,
But sing high and aloof,
Safe from the wolf's black jaw, and the dull ass's hoof.
TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED MASTER WILLIAM
[Printed by Gifford in Underwoods, but really from the First Folio edition of Shakspeare, 1623.]
To draw no envy, Shakspeare, on thy name,
1 Prometheus son of Iapetus.
I therefore will begin: Soul of the age!
Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova2 dead,
To life again, to hear thy buskin tread,
And shake a stage; or when thy socks were on,
Of all that insolent Greece or haughty Rome
In allusion to W. Basse's elegy on Shakspeare, beginning
Renowned Spenser, lie a thought more nigh
To learned Chaucer; and rare Beaumont, lie
A little nearer Spenser, to make room
For Shakespear in your threefold, fourfold tomb.'