To Master William Ieffreys, Chaplaine To The Lord Ambassadour In Spaine Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDEFAGHHHHBBII IIIIJJIIHHHHIIKBEDII BBHHHHKLHHDIMMIINNHH OIPPPPHHPPNNIIMMHHHH IIHHMOMMIIMMHHHHNNHH MMDDDDHHHHHHPPMMDH

My noble friend you challenge me to writeA
To you in verse and often you reciteA
My promise to you and to send you newesB
As 'tis a thing I very seldome vseB
And I must write of State if to MadridC
A thing our Proclamations here forbidC
And that word State such Latitude doth beareD
As it may make me very well to feareD
To write nay speake at all these let you knowE
Your power on me yet not that I will showeF
The loue I beare you in that lofty heightA
So cleere expression or such words of weightG
As into Spanish if they were translatedH
Might make the Poets of that Realme amatedH
Yet these my least were but that you extortH
These numbers from me when I should reportH
In home spunne prose in good plaine honest wordsB
The newes our wofull England vs affordsB
The Muses here sit sad and mute the whileI
A sort of swine vnseasonably defileI
Those sacred springs which from the by clift hillI
Dropt their pure Nectar into euery quillI
In this with State I hope I doe not dealeI
This onely tends the Muses common wealeI
What canst thou hope or looke for from his penJ
Who liues with beasts though in the shapes of menJ
And what a poore few are we honest stillI
And dare to be so when all the world is illI
I finde this age of our markt with this FateH
That honest men are still precipitateH
Vnder base villaines which till th' earth can ventH
This her last brood and wholly hath them spentH
Shall be so then in reuolution shallI
Vertue againe arise by vices fallI
But that shall I not see neither will IK
Maintaine this as one doth a ProphesieB
That our King Iames to Rome shall surely goeE
And from his chaire the Pope shall ouerthrowD
But O this world is so giuen vp to hellI
That as the old Giants which did once rebellI
Against the Gods so this now liuing raceB
Dare sin yet stand and Ieere heauen in the faceB
But soft my Muse and make a little stayH
Surely thou art not rightly in thy wayH
To my good Ieffrayes was not I aboutH
To write and see I suddainely am outH
This is pure Satire that thou speak'st and IK
Was first in hand to write an ElegieL
To tell my countreys shame I not delightH
But doe bemoane 't I am no DemocriteH
O God though Vertue mightily doe grieueD
For all this world yet will I not beleeueI
But that shees faire and louely and that sheM
So to the period of the world shall beM
Else had she beene forsaken sure of allI
For that so many sundry mischiefes fallI
Vpon her dayly and so many takeN
Armes vp against her as it well might makeN
Her to forsake her nature and behindH
To leaue no step for future time to findH
As she had neuer beene for he that nowO
Can doe her most disgrace him they alowI
The times chiefe Champion and he is the manP
The prize and Palme that absolutely wanneP
For where Kings Clossets her free seat hath binP
She neere the Lodge not suffered is to InneP
For ignorance against her stands in stateH
Like some great porter at a Pallace gateH
So dull and barbarous lately are we growneP
And there are some this slauery that haue sowneP
That for mans knowledge it enough doth makeN
If he can learne to read an AlmanackeN
By whom that trash of Amadis de GauleI
Is held an author most authenticallI
And things we haue like Noblemen that beM
In little time which I haue hope to seeM
Vpon their foot clothes as the streets they rideH
To haue their hornebookes at their girdles ti'dH
But all their superfluity of spiteH
On vertues hand maid Poesy doth lightH
And to extirpe her all their plots they layI
But to her ruine they shall misse the wayI
For his alone the Monuments of witH
Aboue the rage of Tyrants that doe sitH
And from their strength not one himselfe can saueM
But they shall tryumph o'r his hated graueO
In my conceipt friend thou didst neuer seeM
A righter Madman then thou hast of meM
For now as Elegiack I bewaileI
These poor base times then suddainely I raileI
And am Satirick not that I inforceM
My selfe to be so but euen as remorseM
Or hate in the proud fulnesse of their hightH
Master my fancy iust so doe I writeH
But gentle friend as soone shall I beholdH
That stone of which so many haue vs touldH
Yet neuer any to this day could makeN
The great Elixar or to vndertakeN
The Rose crosse knowledge which is much like thatH
A Tarrying iron for fooles to labour atH
As euer after I may hope to seeM
A plague vpon this beastly world for meM
Wit so respected as it was of yoreD
And if hereafter any it restoreD
It must be those that yet for many a yeareD
Shall be vnborne that must inhabit hereD
And such in vertue as shall be asham'dH
Almost to heare their ignorant Grandsires nam'dH
With whom so many noble spirits then liu'dH
That were by them of all reward depriu'dH
My noble friend I would I might haue quitH
This age of these and that I might haue writH
Before all other how much the braue penP
Had here bin honoured of the English menP
Goodnesse and knowledge held by them in priseM
How hatefull to them Ignorance and viceM
But it falls out the contrary is trueD
And so my Ieffreyes for this time adueH

Michael Drayton



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