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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO SIR WILLIAM DAVENANT UPON .. FIRST TWO BOOKS OF GONDIBERT, by ABRAHAM COWLEY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: Methinks heroick poesie till now
Last Line: If thou canst plant but there with like success.
Subject(s): Davenant, Sir William (1606-1668)
First Line: Methinks heroick poesie till now
Last Line: If thou canst plant but there with like success.
Subject(s): Davenant, Sir William (1606-1668)
(FINISHED BEFORE HIS VOYAGE TO AMERICA)
MEthinks Heroick Poesie 'till now
Like some fantastick Fairy-land did show,
Gods, Devils, Nymphs, Witches, and Giants race,
And all but Man, in Man's chief work had place.
Thou like some worthy Knight, with sacred Arms
Dost drive the Monsters thence, and end the Charms.
Instead of those dost Men and Manners plant,
The things which that rich Soil did chiefly want.
Yet even thy Mortals do their Gods excell,
Taught by thy Muse to Fight and Love so well.
By fatal hands whilst present Empires fall,
Thine from the Grave past Monarchies recal.
So much more thanks from humane kind does merit
The Poet's Fury, then the Zelot's Spirit.
And from the Grave thou mak'st this Empire rise,
Not like some dreadful Ghost t' affright her Eyes,
But with more Luster and triumphant state,
Then when it crown'd at proud Verona sate.
So will our God rebuild man's perisht frame,
And raise him up much Better, yet the same.
So God-like Poets do past things reherse,
Not change, but Heighten Nature by their Verse.
With Shame, methinks, Great Italy must see
Her Conqu'rors raised to Life again by Thee.
Rais'd by such powerful Verse, that Ancient Rome
May blush no less to see her Wit orecome.
Some men their Fancies like their Faith derive,
And think all Ill but that which Rome does give.
The Marks of Old and Catholick would finde,
To the same Chair would Truth and Fiction binde.
Thou in those beaten pathes disdainst to tread,
And scorn'st to Live by robbing of the Dead.
Since Time does all things change, thou think'st not fit
This latter Age should see all New but Wit.
Thy Fancy like a Flame its way does make,
And leaves bright Tracks for following Pens to take.
Sure 'twas this noble boldness of the Muse
Did thy Desire to seek new Worlds infuse,
And ne're did Heaven so much a Voyage bless,
If thou canst Plant but there with like Success.
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