Sivut kuvina
PDF
ePub

i

he survived the last mentioned appointment a very short time, dying December 23, 1643, in the thirty-second year of his age, of a malignant fever, called the camp disease, which then prevailed at Oxford. He was honourably interred towards the upper end of the south isle of the cathedral of Christ-church.

Few men have ever been so praised and regretted by their contemporaries, who have left so little to perpetuate their fame. During his sickness, the king and queen, who were then at Oxford, made anxious inquiries about the progress of his disorder. His majesty wore black on the day of his funeral, and being asked the reason, answered that since the Muses had so much mourned for the loss of such a son, it bad been a shame that he should not appear in mourning for the loss of such a subject*. His poems and plays which were published in 1651, are preceded by fifty copies of verses by all the wits of the time, and all in a inost laboured style of panegyric. His other encomiasts inform us that his person was as handsome as his mind, and that he not only understood Greek and Latin, but French and Italian as perfectly as his mother tongue. Dr. Fell, bishop of Oxford, said of bim, “ Cartwright is the utmost man can come to," and Ben Jonson used to say, My son Cartwright writes all like a man."

Although it must be confessed that his works, particularly his dramas, afford little justification of this high character, his poems may perhaps deserve a place among those of his contemporaries. Many of them exhibit tenderness and harmony, a copious, but sometimes, fanciful imagery, and a familiar easy humour which, connected with his amiable disposition as a man, probably led to those encomiums which, witbout this consideration, we should find it difficult to allow. “That,” says Wood, “ which is most remarkable is, that these his high parts and abilities were accompanied with so much sweetness and candour, that they made him equally beloved and admired by all persons, especially those of the gown and court; who esteemed also his life a fair copy of practic piety, a rare example of heroic worth, and in whom arts, learning and language, made up the true complement of perfection.” The same biographer informe us that he wrote Poemata Græca & Latina.

* Oldya' MSS. notes on Langbaine. C.

POEMS

OF

WILLIAM CARTWRIGHT.

A PANEGYRICK TO THE MOST NOBLE

LUCY, COUNTESSE OP CARLISLE. MADAM, Since jewels by yourself are worn, Which can but darken what they should adorn; And that aspiring incense still presumes To cloud those Heavens towards which it fumes; Permit the injury of these rites, I pray, Whose darkness is increas'd by your full day ; A day would make you goddess, did you wear, As they of old, a quiver, or a spear: For you but want their trifes, and dissent Nothing in shape, but neerly ornament; Your limbs leave tracks of light, still as you go; Your gate's illumination, and for you Only to more a stip is to dispence Brightness, and torce, splendour, and infuence; Masses of ivory blushing here and there With purple shedding, if compared, were Blots only cast on blots, resembling you No more than Monograni's rich temples do, For being your organs would inform and be, Not instruments, but acts, in others, we What elsewhere is call'd beauty, in you hold, But so much lustre, cast into a mould: Such a serene, soft, rigorous, pleasing, fierce, Lovely, self-armid, naked, majestickness, Compos’d of friendly contraries, do young Poetique princes shape, when they do lung To strik ont heroes from a mortal wombe, And mint fair conquerors for the age to come. But beauty is not all that makes you so Ador'd, by those who either see or know; 'Tis your proportion'd soul, for who ere set A common useless weed io chrystall yet? Or who with pitch doth amber boxes fili? Balsom and odours there inhabite still.: As jewels then bave inward vertues, so Proportion’d to that outward light they show, That, by their lustre which appears, they bid Us turn our sense to that which does lye bid;

VOL VI.

So 'tis ia you :' for that light which we find
Streams in your eye, is knowledge in your mind;
That mixture of bright colours in your face,
Is equall temperance in another place;
That vigour of your limbs, appears within
True perfect valour, if we look but in;
And that proportion which doth each part fill,
Is but dispencing justice in your will.
Thus you redeem us from our errour, who
Thought it a ladie's fame, neither to know
Nor be her self known much; and would not grant
Them reputation, unless ignorant:
An Heroïna heretofore did pass
With the same faith as Centaures, and it was
A tenet, that as women only were
Nature's digressions, who did thence appear
At best but fair mistakes, if they did do
Heroic acts, th’ were faults of custome too:
But you who've gain'd the apex of your kind,
Shew that there are no sexes in the mind,
Being so candid, that we must confess
That goodness is your fashion, or your dress.
That you, more truly valorous, do support
Virtue by daring to be good at court;
Who, beyond all pretenders, are alone
So much a friend to't, that with it y’are one;
And when we men, the weaker vessels, do
Ofend, we think we did it against you.
And can the thought be less, when that we see
Grace powrs forth grace, good good, in one pure,

free,
And following stream, that we no more can tell
What 'tis you shew, than what true tinctures dwel
Upon the dove's bright neck, which are so one,
And divers, that we think them all, and done.
And this is your quick prudence, which conveys
One grace into another, that who saies,
You now are courteous, when you change the light,
Will say you're just, and think it a new sight;
And this is your peculiar art, we know
Others may do like actions, but not so :
The agents alter tbings, and what does come
Powerfull from these, flows weaker fa: from some.

LI

ON THE IMPERFECTION OF

Thus the Sun's light makes day, if it appear, May you live long the painters' fault and strife,
And casts true lustre round the hemisphere; Who, for their oft not drawing you to life,
When if projected from the Moon, that light Must, when their glass is alınost run out, long
Makes not a day, but only colours night;

To purchase absolution for the wrong ;
But you we may still full, still perfect call, But poets, who dare still as much, and take
As what's still great, is equall still in all.

An equal licence, the same errours make,
And from this largeness of your mind, you come I then put in with them, who as I do
To some just wonder, worship unto some,

Sue for release, so I may claime it too.
Whiles you appear a court, and are no less For since your worth and modesty is such,
'Than a whole presence, or throng'd glorious press: None will think this enough, but you too much.
No one can ere inistake you. 'Tis alone
Your lot, where e'r you come to be still known.
Your power's its own witness : you appeare,
By some new conquest, still that you are therca
But sure the shafts your verives shoot, are tipt
With consecrated gold, which too was dipt

CHRIST-CHURCH BUILDINGS.
In purer nectar, for where e'r they do
Print love, they print joy, and religion too:

Arise, thou sacred heap, and show a frame
Hence in your great codowments church and court Perfect at last, and glorious as thy name :
Find what t’ admire; all wishes thus resort Space, and torn majesty, as yet are all
To you as to their center, and are then

Thou hast : we view thy cradle, as thy fall.
Sent back, as centers send back lines agen.

Our dwelling lyes half desert; the whole space Nor can you say you learnt this hence, or thence, Unmeeted and unbounded, bears the face That this you gain'd by knowledge, this by sence; of the first age's fields, and we, as they All is your own, and native: for as pure

That stand on hills, have prospect every way: Fire lends it self to all, and will endure

Like Theseus' sonne, curst by mistake, the frame, Nothing from others; so what you impart

Scattred and torn, hath parts without a name, Comes not from others' principles, or art,

Which in a landskip some mischance, not meanl, But is ingepite all, and still your owne,

As dropping of the spunge, would represent; Your self sufficing to your self alone.

And (if no surcour come) the time's not far Thus your extraction is desert, to whoin

When 'twill be thought no college, but a quar. Vertue and life by the same gift did come. Send then Amphion to these Thebes, (O Fates!) Your cradle's thus a trophe, and with us

W' have here as many breaches, though not gates. 'Tis thought a praise confess'd to be born thus. When any stranger comes, 'tis shewn by us, And though your father's glorious name will be As once the face was of Antigonus, Full and majestiqne in great history,

With an half-visage onely: so that all For high designs; yet after times will boast We boast is but a kitchin, or an ball. You are his chiefest act, and fame him most. Men thence admire, but help not,'t hath the luck

Being then you're th’ elixar, whose least grain Of heathen places that were thunder-strook, Cast into any other, would maintain

To be ador'd, not toucht; tho' the mind and will All for true worth, and make the piece commence Be in the pale, the purse is payan still : Saint, nymph,or goddess, or what not, from thence; Alas! thare tow'rs that thunder do provoke, If when your valorous brother rules the maine, We ne'r bad height or glory for a stroke: And makes the fouds confess his powerfull raign, Time, and king Henry too, did spare us; we You should but take the aire by in your shell, Siood in those dayes both sythe and scepter-free; You would be thought sea-born, and we might well Our ruines then were licenc'd, and we were Conclude you such, but that your deitie

Pass'd by untouch'd, that hand was open here. Would have no winged issue to set bye.

Blesse we our throne then ! That which did avoid 0! had you of-spring to resemble you,

The fury of those tives, seems yet destroy'd : As you have verlues, then-But ob! I do

So this, breath'd on by po full influence, Complain of our misfortunes, not your own, Hath hung e'r since unminded in suspence, For are bless'd spirits, for less happy known, As doubtfull whether 't should escheated be Because they have not receiv'd such a fate

To ruine, or redeem'd to majesty. Of imperfection, as to procreate ?

But great intents stop seconds, and we owe Eternall things supply themselves; so we

To larger wants, that bounty is so slow.
Think this your mark of immortalitie.

A fordship here, like Curtius, might be cast
I now, as those of old, who once had met Into one hole, and yet not seen at last.
A deity in a shape, did nothing set

Two sacred things were thought (by judging souls) By lower and less formes, securely do

Beyond the kingdome's pow'r, Christ-church and Neglect all else, and having once scen you,

Pauls, Count others only Nature's pesantry,

Till, by a light from Heaven shown, the one And ont of reverence seeing will not see.

Did gain his second renoration, Hail your own riches then, and your own store, And some good star ere long, we do not fear, Who thus rule others, but your self far more! Will guide the wise to offer some gifts here. Hail your own glass and object, who alone But ruines yet stand ruines, as if none Deserve to see your own reflection !

Dirst be so good, as first to cast a stone. Persist you still the faction of all vowes,

Alas! we ask not prodigies : wee'd boast, A shape that makes oft perjuries, and allows Had we but what is at one horse-race losi; Even broken faiths a pardon, whiles man do (you. Nor is our house (as Nature in the fall Swear, and reclaim what they have sirom, seeing is thought by some) void and berest of all

ON

WALES.

But what's new giv'n: unto our selves we owe
That sculs are not our churches' pavement now;
That that's made yet good way; that to his cup HIS MAJESTIE'S RECOVERY FROM THE
and table Christ may come, and pot ride up;

SMALL POX 1633.
That no one stumbling fears a worse event,

I Nor, when he vows, falls lower than he meant ;

DO confess the over-forward tongue That now our windows may for doctrine pass,

Of publick duty turns into a wrong, And we (as Paul) see mysteries in a glass ;

And after-ages, which could ne'r conceive That something elsewhere is perform'd, whereby

Our happy Charles so frail as to receive 'Tis seen we can adorn, though not supply.

Such a disease, will know it by the noyse But if to all great buildings (as to Troy)

Which we have made, in showting forth our joyes; A god must needs be sent, and we enjoy

And our informing duty only be No help but miracle, if so it stand

A well-meant spight, or loyall injury. Decreed by Heaven, that the same gracious hand

Let then the name be alter'd, let us say That perfected our statutes, must be sent

They were small stars fixt in a milky-way, To finish Christ-church too, we are content ;

Or faithfull turquoises, which Heaven sent Knowing that he who in the mount did give

For a discovery, not a punishment; Those laws, by which his people were to live,

To show the ill, not make it, and to tell If they had needed then, as now we do,

By their pale looks the bearer was not well.
Would have bestow'd the stone for tables too.

Let the disease forgotten be, but may
The joy returo as yearly as the day;

Let there be new computes, let reckoning be
A CONTINUATION OF THE SAME TO THE PRINCE OF Solemnly made from his recovery;

Let not the kingdom's acts hereafter run But turn we hence to you, as some there be

Prom his (though happy) coronation,

But from his health, as in a better strain;
Who ja the coppy wooe the Deity ;
Who think then most successfull steps are trod

That plac'd bim in bis throne, this makes him raign.
When they approach the image for the god.
Our king bath shewn his bounty, sir, in you,
By giving whom, h' bath giv'n us buildings too.

TO THE KING.
For we see harvests in a showre, and when
Heav'n drops a dew, say it drops flowers then,

ON HIS MAJESTIE'S RETURN FROM SCOTLAND. Whiles all that blessed fatness dotb not fall

1633.
To fill that basket, or this barn, but all.
We know y' have vertues in you now, which stand We are a people now again, and may
Eager for action, and expect command;

Stile our selves subjects : your prolong'd delay Vertues now ripe, train'd up, and nurturd so,

Had almost made our jealousy engross
That they wait only when you'l bid them flow. New fears, and raise your absence into loss.
Indulge you, then, our rising Sun, we may "Tis true, the kingdom's manners and the law
Say, your first rayes broke here to make a day: Retain'd their wonted rigour, the same awe
For though the light, when grown, powrs fuller And love still kept us loyall : but 'twas so
streams,

As clocks once set in inotion do yet go, 'Tis yet more precious in its virgin beams; The hand being absent; or as when the quill And though the third or fourth may do the cure, Ceaseth to strikc, the string yet trembles still. The eldest tear of balsam's still inost pare. O count our sighs and fears ! there shall not be 'Tis only then our pride that we may dwell

Again such absence, though sure victory As vertues do in you, compleat and well ;

Would waite on every step, and would repay That when a college finish'd, is the sport

A severall conquest for each severall day. And pastime only of your yonger court,

We do not crown your welcome with a name An act, to wbich some could not well arive Coyn'd from the journey ; nor shall soothing Fame After their fifty, done by you at five,

Callt an adventure : heretofore, when rude The late and tardy stock of nephews may,

And haughty power was known by solitude ; Reading your story, think you were born gray.

When all that subjects felt of majesty,
This is the thread weaves all our hopes : for since Was the oppressing yoke and tyranuy;
All better vertues now are call'd the Prince, Then it had pass'd for valour, and had been
(As smaller rivers lose their words, and beare Thought prowesse to have dar'd to have been seen;
No name but ocean when they come in there) And the approaching to a neighbour region
Thence we expect them, as these streams, we know, No progresse but an expedition.
Can from no other womb or bosome flow.

But here's no cause of a triumphant dance,
Limne you our Venus then throughout, be she 'Tis a return, not a deliverance.
Christned, some part at least, your deity;

Your pious faith secur'd your throne; your life That when to take you paioters go about,

Was guard unto your scepter ; no rude strife, They be compellid to leave some of you out;

No violence there disturb'd the pomp, unless Whiles you shew something bere that won't admit Their eager love and loyalty did press Colours and shape, something that cannot fit. To see and know, whiles law full majesty Thus shall you nourish future writers, who Spread forth its presence, and its piety. May give Fame back those things you do bestow : So hath the God, that lay hid in the voice Where merits too will be your work, and then Of his directing oracle, made choice That age will think you gave not stones, but men. To come in person, and untouch'd hath crown'd

The supplicant with tris glory, not bis sound.

ON

Whiles that this pomp was moving, whiles a fire View we the manger and the babe, we thence
Shot out from you, did but provoke desire, Beleeve the very threeds have innocence;
Not satisfe, how in loyalty did they

Then on the cross such love and grief we find, Wish an eternall solstice, or a day

As 'twere a transcript of our Saviour's mind; That might make Nature stand, striving to bring Each parcell so expressive, and so fit, Ev'n by her wrong more homage to a king; That the whole seems not so much wruught, as writ. But mayst thou dwell with us, just Charles, and "L'is sacred text all, we may quoat, and therce show

Extract what may be press'd in our defence. A beam sometimes to them: so shall we ow

Blest mother of the church, be iu the list To constant light, they to posterity

Reckon'd from hence the she evangelist : Shall boast of this, that they were seen by thee. Nor can the style be profanation, when

The needle may convert more than the pen.

When faith may come by seeing, and each lea! TO THE QUEEN, ON THE SAME OCCASION.

Rightly perus'd prore gospell to the deaf. We do presume our duty to no eare

Had not Saint Hellen happ'ly found the cross, Will better sound, than yours, who most did fear. By this your work you had repair'd that loss. We know your busie eye perus'd the glass,

Tell me not of Penelope, we do And chid the lazy sands as they did pass ;

See a web here more chaste, and sacred too.
We know no hour stole by with present wing, Where are ye wow,

women! you that són
But heard one sigh dispatch'd unto your king : Temptations, labouring to express the bow
We know his faith too ; how that other faces And the blind archer, you that rarely set,
Were view'd as pictures only; how their graces To please your loves, a Venus in a net?
Did in this only call his eye, that seen

Turn your skill hitber: then we shall (no doubt)
They might present some parcell of his queen. See the king's daughter glorious too without.
You were both maim'd whiles sever'd: none could Women sew'd idle tig-leares bithertoo,
find

Eve's nakedness is truly cloath'd by you.
Whole maj'sty; y'are perfect, when thus joyn'd.
We do not think this absence can add more
Flames, but call forth those that lay bid before :
As when in thirsty flowers a gentle dew
Awakes the sent which slept, vot give's a new.
As for our joy, 'tis not a sudden heat

THE BIRTIL OF THE DUKE OF YORK.
Starts into noise ; but 'tis as true as great;
We will be tri'd by yours; for we dare strive Tue state is now past fear, and all that we
Here, and acknowledge no prerogative.

Need wish besides is perpetuity.
We then proclaime this triumph be as bright No gaudy trajne of fames, no darkned Sun,
And large to all, as was your inarriage-night. No change inverting order did forerun
Cry we a second Hymen ihen ; and sing,

This birth : no hurtless natalitious fire
Wbiles you receive the hushand, we the king. Playing about him made the nurse admire,

Au prophesie. Fond nature shews these things
When thraldom swels, when bondmaids bring forth

kings.
TO THE LADY PAWLET,

And 'tis no favour: for she straight gives oor

Paying these trifles, that she ow no more.
UPON HER PRESENT SENT TO THE VNIVERSITY, Here shee's reserv'd, and quiet, as if he

Were her design, her plot, her policy:
OUR SAVIOUR,

Here the enquiring, busie, common eye,
Only intent upon new majesty,

Ne'r looks for further wonder, this alone Could we judge here, (most vertuous madam) Being sufficient, that hee's silent shown. then

What's her intent I know not: let it be Your needle might receive praise from the pen : My pray't, that shee'l be modest, and that he But this our want bereaves it of that part,

Hare but the second honour, be still neer; Whiles to admire and thank is all our art.

No imitation of the father here. The work deserves a shrine, I should rehearse Yet let him, like to him, make power as free Its glories in a story, not a verse:

Froin blot or scandall as from poverty: Colours are mixt so subtily, that thereby

Count bloud and birth no parts, but something lentThe stealth of art both takes and cheates the eye; Meerly for ontward grace and complement; At once a thousand we can goze npon,

Get safety by good life, and raise defence Lot are deceir'd by their transition ;

By better forces, love and conscience. What touchieth is the same; beam takes from beam, Tuis likewise we expect; the nurse may find The next still like, yet diff'ring in th’extreme: Something in shape, wee'l look unto his mind. Here runs this track we see, thither that tends, The forehead, eye, and lip, poor humble parts, But cann't say here this rose, or there that ends. Too shallow for resemblance, shew the arts Thus while they creep insensibly, we doubt Of private guessings : action still bath been Whether the one powres not the other ont. The royall mark. Those parts, which are not seen, Paccs so quick and lively, that we may

Present the throne and scepter; and the right Fear, if we turn aside, they'l steal away.

Discoverie's made by judgment, vot by sight. Postures of grief so true, that we may swear I cannot to this cradle promise make Your artfal fingers hare wrought passion there : Of actions Git for growth. A strangled snake

BEING THE STORY OF THE NATIVITY AND PASSION OF

WROUGHT BY HER SELF IN NEEDLE-WORK.

« EdellinenJatka »