Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO HIS MUCH HONOURED GODFATHER, MASTER A. B., by ABRAHAM COWLEY

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TO HIS MUCH HONOURED GODFATHER, MASTER A. B., by             Poet's Biography
First Line: I love (for that upon the wings of fame
Last Line: A name to me, and I made yours to live.
Subject(s): Godparents

I Love (for that upon the wings of Fame
Shall perhaps mocke Death or time's Darts) my Name.
I love it more because 'twas given by you;
I love it most because 'twas your name too.
For if I chance to slip, a conscious shame
Pluckes me, and bids me not defile your name.

I'm glad that Citie t' whom I ow'd before,
(But ah me! fate hath crost that willing score)
A Father, gave me a Godfather too,
And I'm more glad because it gave me you:
Whom I may rightly thinke, and terme to be
Of the whole Citie an Epitomie.

I thanke my carefull fate which found out one
(When Nature had not licenced my tongue
Farther then cryes) who should my office doe;
I thanke her more because she found out you.
In whose each looke I may a sentence see,
In whose each deed a teaching Homilie.

How shall I pay this debt to you? My Fate
Denyes me Indian Pearle or Persian Plate.
Which though it did not, to requite you thus,
Were to send Apples to Alcinous,
And sell the cunningst way; No, when I can
In every Leafe, in every Verse write Man;
When my Quill relisheth a Schoole no more,
When my pen-featherd Muse hath learnt to soare,
And gotten wings as well as feet; looke then
For equall thankes from my unwearied Pen:
Till future ages say; 'twas you did give
A name to me, and I made yours to live.

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