To My Honoured Friend Sir Robert Howard,[1] On His Excellent Poems Poem Rhyme Scheme

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As there is music uninform'd by art	A
In those wild notes which with a merry heart	A
The birds in unfrequented shades express	B
Who better taught at home yet please us less	B
So in your verse a native sweetness dwells	C
Which shames composure and its art excels	C
Singing no more can your soft numbers grace	D
Than paint adds charms unto a beauteous face	D
Yet as when mighty rivers gently creep	E
Their even calmness does suppose them deep	E
Such is your muse no metaphor swell'd high	F
With dangerous boldness lifts her to the sky	F
Those mounting fancies when they fall again	G
Show sand and dirt at bottom do remain	H
So firm a strength and yet withal so sweet	I
Did never but in Samson's riddle meet	I
'Tis strange each line so great a weight should bear	J
And yet no sign of toil no sweat appear	K
Either your art hides art as Stoics feign	H
Then least to feel when most they suffer pain	H
And we dull souls admire but cannot see	L
What hidden springs within the engine be	L
Or 'tis some happiness that still pursues	M
Each act and motion of your graceful muse	M
Or is it fortune's work that in your head	N
The curious net that is for fancies spread	N
Lets through its meshes every meaner thought	O
While rich ideas there are only caught	P
Sure that's not all this is a piece too fair	J
To be the child of chance and not of care	J
No atoms casually together hurl'd	Q
Could e'er produce so beautiful a world	Q
Nor dare I such a doctrine here admit	R
As would destroy the providence of wit	R
'Tis your strong genius then which does not feel	S
Those weights would make a weaker spirit reel	S
To carry weight and run so lightly too	T
Is what alone your Pegasus can do	T
Great Hercules himself could ne'er do more	U
Than not to feel those heavens and gods he bore	U
Your easier odes which for delight were penn'd	V
Yet our instruction make their second end	V
We're both enrich'd and pleased like them that woo	T
At once a beauty and a fortune too	T
Of moral knowledge poesy was queen	W
And still she might had wanton wits not been	X
Who like ill guardians lived themselves at large	Y
And not content with that debauch'd their charge	Y
Like some brave captain your successful pen	G
Restores the exiled to her crown again	G
And gives us hope that having seen the days	Z
When nothing flourish'd but fanatic bays	Z
All will at length in this opinion rest	A2
A sober prince's government is best	A2
This is not all your art the way has found	B2
To make the improvement of the richest ground	B2
That soil which those immortal laurels bore	U
That once the sacred Maro's temples wore	U
Eliza's griefs are so express'd by you	T
They are too eloquent to have been true	T
Had she so spoke neas had obey'd	C2
What Dido rather than what Jove had said	N
If funeral rites can give a ghost repose	D2
Your Muse so justly has discharged those	D2
Eliza's shade may now its wandering cease	E2
And claim a title to the fields of peace	E2
But if neas be obliged no less	B
Your kindness great Achilles doth confess	B
Who dress'd by Statius in too bold a look	F2
Did ill become those virgin robes he took	F2
To understand how much we owe to you	T
We must your numbers with your author's view	T
Then we shall see his work was lamely rough	G2
Each figure stiff as if design'd in buff	G2
His colours laid so thick on every place	D
As only show'd the paint but hid the face	D
But as in perspective we beauties see	L
Which in the glass not in the picture be	L
So here our sight obligingly mistakes	H2
That wealth which his your bounty only makes	H2
Thus vulgar dishes are by cooks disguised	I2
More for their dressing than their substance prized	I2
Your curious notes so search into that age	J2
When all was fable but the sacred page	J2
That since in that dark night we needs must stray	K2
We are at least misled in pleasant way	K2
But what we most admire your verse no less	B
The prophet than the poet doth confess	B
Ere our weak eyes discern'd the doubtful streak	L2
Of light you saw great Charles his morning break	M2
So skilful seamen ken the land from far	N2
Which shows like mists to the dull passenger	O2
To Charles your Muse first pays her duteous love	P2
As still the ancients did begin from Jove	P2
With Monk you end whose name preserved shall be	L
As Rome recorded Rufus' memory	L
Who thought it greater honour to obey	K2
His country's interest than the world to sway	K2
But to write worthy things of worthy men	G
Is the peculiar talent of your pen	G
Yet let me take your mantle up and I	F
Will venture in your right to prophesy	B
This work by merit first of fame secure	Q2
Is likewise happy in its geniture	Q2
For since 'tis born when Charles ascends the throne	R2
It shares at once his fortune and its own	R2

John Dryden

To My Honoured Friend Sir Robert Howard,[1] On His Excellent Poems Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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