Classic and Contemporary Poetry
EPISTLE TO SIR THOMAS EGERTON, KNIGHT, LORD KEEPER OF THE GREAT SEAL, by SAMUEL DANIEL Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Well hath the powerful hand of majesty Last Line: Power may have knees, but justice hath our hearts. Subject(s): Egerton, Thomas. Baron Ellesmere; Upper Classes | ||||||||
Well hath the powerful hand of majesty, Thy worthiness, and England's hap beside Set thee in th' aidful'st room of dignity, As th' isthmus these two oceans to divide Of rigor and confused uncertainty, To keep out th' intercourse of wrong and pride, That they engulf not up unsuccored right By th' extreme current of licentious might; Now when we see the most combining band, The strongest fast'ning of society, Law, whereon all this frame of men doth stand, Remain concussed with uncertainty, And seem to foster rather than withstand Contention, and embrace obscurity Only t' afflict, and not to fashion us, Making her cure far worse than the disease; As if she had made covenant with wrong To part the prey made on our weaknesses, And suffered falsehood to be armed as strong Unto the combat as is righteousness, Or suited her as if she did belong Unto our passions, and did ev'n profess Contention as her only mystery, Which she restrains not, but doth multiply. Was she the same sh' is now in ages past? Or was she less when she was used less, And grows as malice grows, and so comes cast Just to the form of our unquietness? Or made more slow the more that strife runs fast, Staying t' undo us ere she will redress, That th' ill she checks seems suffered to be ill, When it yields greater gain than goodness will? Must there be still some discord mixed among The harmony of men, whose mood accords Best with contention, tuned t' a note of wrong, That when war fails, peace must make war with words, And be'armed unto destruction ev'n as strong As were in ages past our civil swords, Making as deep, although unbleeding wounds, That whenas fury fails, wisdom confounds -- If it be wisdom and not cunning, this Which so embroils the state of truth with brawls, And wraps it up in strange confusedness, As if it lived immured within the walls Of hideous terms framed out of barb'rousness And foreign customs, the memorials Of our subjection, and could never be Delivered but by wrangling subtlety. Whereas it dwells free in the open plain, Uncurious, gentle, easy of access, Certain unto itself, of equal vein, One face, one color, one assuredness. It's falsehood that is intricate and vain, And needs these labyrinths of subtleness; For where the cunning cov'rings most appear It argues still that all is not sincere. Which thy clear-eyed experience well descries, Great Keeper of the state of equity, Refuge of mercy, upon whom relies The succor of oppressed misery; Altar of safeguard, whereto' affliction flies From th' eager pursuit of severity; Haven of peace, that labor'st to withdraw Justice from out the tempests of the law, And set her in a calm and even way, Plain and directly leading to redress, Barring these counter-courses of delay, These wasting dilatory processes; Ranging into their right and proper ray Errors, demurs, essoins, and traverses, The heads of Hydra springing out of death, That gives this monster malice still new breath; That what was made for the utility And good of man might not be turned t' his hurt To make him worser by his remedy, And cast him down with what should him support; Nor that the state of law might lose thereby The due respect and rev'rence of her port, And seem a trap to catch our ignorance And to entangle our intemperance; Since her interpretations and our deeds Unto a like infinity arise, As being a science that by nature breeds Contention, strife, and ambiguities; For altercation controversy feeds, And in her agitation multiplies; The field of cavil, lying all like wide, Yields like advantage unto either side. Which made the grave Castilian king devise A prohibition that no advocate Should be conveyed to th' Indian colonies, Lest their new setting, shaken with debate, Might take but slender root, and so not rise To any perfect growth of firm estate, For having not this skill, how to contend, Th' unnourished strife would quickly make an end. So likewise did th' Hungarian, when he saw These great Italian Bartolists, who were Called in of purpose to explain the law, T' embroil it more, and make it much less clear, Caused them from out his kingdom to withdraw With this infestious skill some otherwhere; Whose learning rather let men farther out, And opened wider passages of doubt. Seeing ev'n injustice may be regular, And no proportion can there be betwixt Our actions which in endless motion are And th' ordinances which are always fixed, Ten thousand laws more cannot reach so far But malice goes beyond, or lives immixed So close with goodness as it ever will Corrupt, disguise, or counterfeit it still. And therefore did those glorious monarchs who Divide with God the style of majesty For being good, and had a care to do The world right and succor honesty, Ordain this sanctuary, whereunto Th' oppressed might fly, this seat of equity, Whereon thy virtues sit with fair renown, The greatest grace and glory of the Gown. Which equity, being the soul of law, The life of justice, and the spirit of right, Dwells not in written laws, or lives in awe Of books -- deaf powers that have nor ears nor sight -- But out of well-weighed circumstance doth draw The essence of a judgment requisite, And is that Lesbian square, that building fit, Plies to the work, not forc'th the work to it; Maintaining still an equal parallel Just with th' occasions of humanity, Making her judgments ever liable To the respect of peace and amity; When surly law, stern and unaffable, Cares only but itself to satisfy, And often innocency scarce defends, As that which on no circumstance depends. But equity, that bears an even rein Upon the present courses, holds in awe By giving hand a little, and doth gain By'a gentle relaxation of the law; And yet inviolable doth maintain The end whereto all constitutions draw, Which is the welfare of society, Consisting of an upright policy. Which first being by necessity composed, Is by necessity maintained in best estate; Where, whenas justice shall be ill-disposed, It sickens the whole body of the state; For if there be a passage once disclosed That wrong may enter at the selfsame gate Which serves for right, clad in a coat of law, What violent distempers may it draw? And therefore dost thou stand to keep the way, And stop the course that malice seeks to run, And by thy provident injunctions stay This never-ending altercation; Sending contention home, to th' end men may There make their peace whereas their strife begun, And free these pestered streets they vainly wear, Whom both the state and theirs do need elsewhere; Lest th' humor which doth thus predominate Convert unto itself all that it takes, And that the law grow larger than debate, And come t' exceed th' affairs it undertakes; As if the only science of the state, That took up all our wits for gain it makes, Not for the good that thereby may be wrought -- Which is not good if it be dearly bought. What shall we think, whenas ill causes shall Enrich men more, and shall be more desired Than good, as far more beneficial? Who then defends the good? Who will be hired To entertain a right whose gain is small, Unless the advocate that hath conspired To plead a wrong be likewise made to run His client's chance, and with him be undone? So did the wisest nations ever strive To bind the hands of justice up so hard, That lest she falling to prove lucrative, Might basely reach them out to take reward; Ordaining her provisions fit to live Out of the public, as a public guard That all preserves and all doth entertain; Whose end is only glory, and not gain. That ev'n the scepter which might all command, Seeing her so'unpartial, equal, regular, Was pleased to put itself into her hand, Whereby they both grew more admired far. And this is that great blessing of this land, That both the prince and people use one Bar -- The prince, whose cause, as not to be withstood, Is never bad but where himself is good. This is that balance which committed is To thy most even and religious hand, Great minister of justice, who by this Shalt have thy name still gracious in this land. This is that seal of power which doth impress Thy acts of right, which shall forever stand; This is that train of state that pompously Attends upon thy rev'rend dignity. All glory else besides ends with our breath, And men's respects scarce brings us to our grave, But this of doing good must outlive death, And have a right out of the right it gave. Though th' act but few, th' example profiteth Thousands, that shall thereby a blessing have. The world's respect grows not but on deserts; Power may have knees, but justice hath our hearts. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TWENTY BLOCKS by EGMONT HEGEL ARENS TO A DYING CLASS by ANGELO PHILIP BERTOCCI THE ENTRANCE INTO ROUEN OF CHARLES THE BOLD by PAUL FORT DAT'S RIGHT, AIN'T IT? by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN KING ON WATCHING MY STENOGRAPHER by CHRISTOPHER DARLINGTON MORLEY |
|