Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO HIS LATE MAJESTY, CONCERNING..TRUE FORM OF ENGLISH POETRY, by JOHN BEAUMONT



Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Rhyming Dictionary Search
TO HIS LATE MAJESTY, CONCERNING..TRUE FORM OF ENGLISH POETRY, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Great king, the soveraigne ruler of this land
Last Line: And be their wonder, as we were their scorne.
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets


Great King, the Sov'raigne Ruler of this Land,
By whose grave care, our hopes securely stand:
Since you descending from that spaciouos reach,
Vouchsafe to be our Master, and to teach
Your English Poets to direct their lines,
To mixe their colours, and expresse their signes.
Forgive my boldnesse, that I here present
The life of Muses yeelding true content
In ponder'd numbers, which with ease I try'd,
When your judicious rules have been my guide.
In ev'ry Language now in Europe spoke
By Nations which the Roman Empire broke,
The relish of the Muse consists in rime,
One verse must meete another like a chime.
Our Saxon shortnesse hath peculiar grace
In choice of words, fit for the ending place,
Which leave impression in the mind as well
As closing sounds, of some delightfull bell:
These must not be with disproportion lame,
Nor should an Eccho still repeate the same.
In many changes these may be exprest:
But those that joyne most simply, run the best:
Their forme surpassing farre the fetter'd staves,
Vaine care, and needlesse repetition saves.
These outward ashes keepe those inward fires,
Whose heate the Greeke and Roman works inspires:
Pure phrase, fit Epithets, a sober care
Of Metaphors, descriptions cleare, yet rare,
Similitudes contracted smooth and round,
Not vext by learning, but with Nature crown'd:
Strong figures drawne from deepe inventions springs,
Consisting lesse in words, and more in things:
A language not affecting ancient times,
Nor Latine shreds, by which the Pedant climes:
A noble subject which the mind may lift
To easie use of that peculiar gift,
Which Poets in their raptures hold most deare,
When actions by the lively sound appeare.
Give me such helpes, I never will despaire,
But that our heads which sucke the freezing aire,
As well as hotter braines, may verse adorne,
And be their wonder, as we were their scorne.





Other Poems of Interest...



Home: PoetryExplorer.net