Classic and Contemporary Poetry
VIRGIDEMIAE: BOOK 2: SATIRE: 2, by JOSEPH HALL Poet's Biography First Line: To what ende did our lauish auncestours Last Line: Let swinish grill delight in dunghill clay. Subject(s): Muses; Nature; Pain; Suffering; Misery | ||||||||
To what ende did our lauish auncestours, Erect of olde these stately piles of ours? For thred-bare clerks, & for the ragged Muse Whom better fit some cotes of sad secluse? Blush niggard Age, and be asham'd to see, These monuments of wiser ancestrie. And ye faire heapes the Muses sacred shrines, (In spight of time and enuious repines) Stand still, and flourish till the worlds last day, Vpbrayding it with former loues decay. Here may ye Muses, our deare Soueraines, Scorne ech base Lordling euer you disdaines, And euery peasant churle, whose smoky roofe Denied harbour for your deare behoofe. Scorne ye the world before it do complaine, And scorne the world that scorneth you againe. And scorne contempt it selfe, that doth incite Each single-sold squire to set you at so light. What needs me care for any bookish skill, To blot white papers with my restlesse quill: Or poare on painted leaues: or beate my braine With far-fetcht thoughts: or to consume in vaine In later Euen, or mids of winter nights, Ill smelling oyles, or some still-watching lights. Let them that meane by bookish businesse To earne their bread: or hopen to professe Their hard got skill: let them alone for mee, Busie their braines with deeper bookerie. Great gaines shall bide you sure, when ye haue spent A thousand Lamps: & thousand Reames haue rent Of needlesse papers, and a thousand nights Haue burned out with costly candle lights. Ye palish ghosts of Athens; when at last, Your patrimonie spent in witlesse wast, Your friends all wearie, and your spirits spent, Ye may your fortunes seeke: and be forwent Of your kind cosins: and your churlish sires, Left there alone mids the fast-folding Briers. Haue not I lands of faire inheritance, Deriu'd by right of long continuance, To first-borne males, so list the law to grace, Natures first fruits in euiternall race? Let second brothers, and poore nestlings, Whom more iniurious Nature later brings Into the naked world: let them assaine To get hard peny-worths with bootlesse paine. Tush? what care I to be Arcesilas, Or some sowre Solon, whose deep-furrowed face And sullen head, and yellow-clouded sight, Still on the stedfast earth are musing pight. Muttring what censures their distracted minde, Of brain-sicke Paradoxes deeply hath definde: Of Parmenides, or of darke Heraclite, Whether all be one, or ought be infinite. Long would it be, ere thou had'st purchase bought Or wealthier wexen by such idle thought. Fond foole, six feete shall serue for all thy store: And he that cares for most, shall finde no more. We scorne that wealth should be the finall end, Whereto the heauenly Muse her course doth bend: And rather had be pale with learned cares, Then paunched with thy choyce of changed fares. Or doth thy glory stand in outward glee, A laue-ear'd Asse with gold may trapped bee: Or if in pleasure: liue we as we may: Let swinish Grill delight in dunghill clay. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PARTHENOPHIL AND PARTHENOPHE: MADRIGAL 14 by BARNABE BARNES SONNETS IN SHADOWS: 1 by ARLO BATES IN PRAISE OF PAIN by HEATHER MCHUGH THE SYMPATIZERS by JOSEPHINE MILES LEEK STREET by LAURE-ANNE BOSSELAAR AN EPIGRAM ON JOHN MARSTON by JOSEPH HALL ANTHEMES FOR THE CATHEDRAL OF EXCETER: 1 by JOSEPH HALL ANTHEMES FOR THE CATHEDRAL OF EXCETER: 2. ANTHEME FOR CHRISTMAS DAY by JOSEPH HALL |
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