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To the Honourable Edward Howard Esq. upon his Poem of the Brittish Princes (H. D.)

inglés

html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }hough time o'r greatest actions hath its reign,
What this destroyes, yet you restore again:
And by the pleasing Talent of your Pen,
Revive that worth which was so famous then.
So, whil'st we fondly charg'd on guilty Fate,
Those ravisht Glories, which on time did waite,
We see twas fit; none, but your Muse should give
Our Brittish Heroes Monuments to live.
All the lost virtues of great Arthur you
In Albianus can exactly shew:
The lustre of the long set Sun you find
By those reflections which he leaves behind.
Could Vortiger but know how by your Muse
his actions are out-done, he would refuse
All that he once thought great, whilst he is taught,
Virtue, and honour, must from hence be sought.
Courage to ev'ry Hero you have lent,
To shew, small stars make up a firmament,
The fair Bonduca would desire more
Those beauties you describe, than those she wore:
And think the gods had sent you from above
To add a greatness to her soul, and love.
Merlinu's worth, which time had long obscur'd,
Is from your noble Muse to us secur'd:
That ev'n the Grecian Stagerite might take
Instructions, where thy Poem makes him speak:
Whose lost Prophetick glory now we see
Reviv'd, whilst here he makes his prophesie.
Virtue is so exacty drawn by you,
That none can question what he ought to do:
By those examples which in this are given,
You seem at once us to oblige, and heaven.
No dangerous mountains make your work seem rough,
But gentle risings, and yet high enough.
Which through the whole are so exactly wrought,
It seems as well the child of pains, as thought.
On Princes actions when you cease to toyl,
Describing all the pleasures of this soyl,
Kind nature will be pleas'd, since here is sung
All by her secret operations done:
Though blushing she must wonder, since no more,
Than hers, your bounty lessens not your store.
Beauties not less oblig'd, since by your Muse
Is giv'n her all the features she could chuse,
And made us know, that love which she hath given,
Is a faint rellish of our future heaven.
Maro not more amaz'd, than pleas'd would be,
To see this Child derive its pedigree
So justly from his greatness, since he none
For likeness, and for beauty, more can own.
Blest by these two, detraction 'tis above,
Since all must forfeit sence, or thine approve.

H. D.

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Autor
Edward Howard
Título
To the Honourable Edward Howard Esq. upon his Poem of the Brittish Princes (H. D.)
Lengua
inglés
Época
Ilustración
Sala
La Biblioteca
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Cita recomendada
Edward Howard, «To the Honourable Edward Howard Esq. upon his Poem of the Brittish Princes (H. D.)», Poetósfera, poetosfera.com/p/ws-en-to-the-honourable-edward-howard-esq-upon-his-poe--edward-howard-dfbb69.html

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