Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO HIS DEAR FRIEND, THOMAS RILEY, by RANDOLPH THOMAS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO HIS DEAR FRIEND, THOMAS RILEY, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: I will not say I on our stage have seen
Last Line: I write this comedy, but 'twas made by thee.
Subject(s): Plays & Playwrights


I WILL not say I on our stage have seen
A second Roscius; that too poor had been.
But I have seen a Proteus, that can take
What shape he please, and in an instant make
Himself to anything: be that or this
By voluntary metamorphosis.
When thou dost act, men think it not a play,
But all they see is real. O, that day,
(When I had cause to blush that this poor thing
Did kiss a queen's hand, and salute a king)
How often had I lost thee! I could find
One of thy stature, but in every kind
Alter'd from him I knew; nay, I in thee
Could all professions and all passions see.
When thou art pleas'd to act an angry part,
Thou fright'st the audience; and, with nimble art
Turn'd lover, thou dost that so lively too,
Men think that Cupid taught thee how to woo.
To express thee all would ask a better pen;
Thou art, though little, the whole map of men.
In deeper knowledge and philosophy
Thou truly art what others seem to be,
Whose learning is all face; as 'twere thy fate
There not to act where most do personate.
All this in one so small! Nature made thee
To show her cunning in epitome;
While others, that seem giants in the arts
(Such as have stronger limbs, but weaker parts)
Are like a volume that contains less in't,
And yet looks big, 'cause 'tis a larger print.
I should myself have too ungrateful shown,
Sent I not thee my book: -- Take't, 'tis thine own:
For thus far my confession shall be free,
I write this comedy, but 'twas made by thee.





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