<!DOCTYPE ETS PUBLIC "-//UMDLPS//DTD EEBOPROOF 2.0//EN">
<ETS>
<TEMPHEAD>
<REVDESCR>
<CHANGE>
<DATE>2010-02-06</DATE>
<RESPSTMT>
<NAME>John Pas</NAME>
<RESP>MURP</RESP>
</RESPSTMT>
<ITEM>Proofed and reviewed as part of batch B090313.pdcc.</ITEM>
</CHANGE>
</REVDESCR>
</TEMPHEAD>
<EEBO>
<IDG S="marc" R="UM" ID="B04763">
<STC T="W">p2738</STC>
<BIBNO T="umi">99889864</BIBNO>
<VID>181721</VID>
</IDG>
<TEXT LANG="eng">
<BODY>
<DIV1 TYPE="poem">
<PB N="1" REF="1" MS="y"><!-- PDF PAGE 40 -->
<HEAD>THE POETS Addre&s;s TO KING JAMES II. Surnamed the Ju&s;t</HEAD>
<EPIGRAPH>
<Q><L>&mdash;Illius aram</L>
<L>Saepe tener no&s;tris ab ovilibus imbuet agnus.</L>
<BIBL><HI>Virg.</HI></BIBL></Q>
</EPIGRAPH>
<LG>
<L>POETS in <HI>Vice</HI> challenge an equal &s;hare,</L>
<L>With tho&s;e they from the Stage &s;o pertly jear;</L>
<L>They'll <HI>Whore, Drink, Lie, Quarrel</HI> perhaps &amp; <HI>Swear:</HI></L>
<L>Sad truths we own, unhappy Men, who mu&s;t,</L>
<L>If to our Laws and <HI>Calling</HI> we'd be ju&s;t;</L>
<L>Like the bold Man, who went him&s;elf and &s;aw</L>
<L>A Battle's bloody Scene, to learn to draw:</L>
<PB N="2" REF="2"><!-- PDF PAGE 41 -->
<L>For nothing takes, as Canting <HI>Tub&s;ters</HI> Teach,</L>
<L>More than when Men their own Experience Preach.</L>
<L>Wou'd <HI>POETS Edifie</HI> by what they Write;</L>
<L>They mu&s;t Intrigue by Day, and Drink by Night,</L>
<L>Wou'd they &s;trike home, and have their Satyr bite.</L>
<L>Yet in this Roll of <HI>pure convenient</HI> Crimes,</L>
<L>Which learn us how with Art to la&s;h the Times.</L>
<L>(Record the Fact to our Immortal Fame;)</L>
<L><HI>Rebellion</HI> ne'er did &s;tain the Mu&s;es Name:</L>
<L><HI>Character-Settle,</HI> if you plea&s;e to bate,</L>
<L>Who, <HI>Judas</HI>-like, Repented when too late.</L>
<L><HI>Beaumo<GAP DESC="illegible" RESP="UOM" EXTENT="2 letters"></HI> and <HI>Fletcher</HI> (that exalted pair)</L>
<L>Once with their Mu&s;e went down to take the Air;</L>
<L>Beneath a Hedge, clo&s;e by the Road, they lay,</L>
<L>Moulding the Figure of an unborn Play.</L>
<L>At winding up of the well-labour'd Scene,</L>
<L>It was Re&s;olv'd, the King mu&s;t die; but then,</L>
<L>About the <HI>How,</HI> and <HI>Where,</HI> Debates aro&s;e:</L>
<L>One was for Stabbing, t'other Poi&s;on cho&s;e.</L>
<L>A Country Fellow over-hearing this</L>
<L>(As every Subject bound in duty is)</L>
<L>Had 'em &s;ecur'd, and up to Town he Spurr'd,</L>
<L>and &s;wore the &s;ame before the Council-Board.</L>
<L>Daggers and Poi&s;on, Plots again&s;t the King,</L>
<L>O're all the Kingdom, Town, and Court does ring.</L>
<L>Well! up the bold Intriguers both are brought;</L>
<L>Bold, becau&s;e guilty ne'er in Dream or Thought.</L>
<L>Our Country <HI>Wagg,</HI> from Arguments of Sen&s;e,</L>
<L>His dreadful <HI>Affidavit</HI> does commence:</L>
<L>He pleads his Eyes and Ears, and thence does urge:</L>
<L>They from each Tittle &s;trive them&s;elves to purge.</L>
<PB N="3" REF="2"><!-- PDF PAGE 41 -->
<L>In &s;hort, the thing was &s;can'd, and furni&s;h'd &s;port</L>
<L>For the whole Kingdom, Country, Town and Court.</L>
<L>Upon the Stage fitly the&s;e things appear;</L>
<L><HI>Killing no Murder,</HI> is &s;afe Doctrine there:</L>
<L>Wou'd our <HI>State-Poets</HI> us'd but half the care.</L>
<L>The <HI>Monarch,</HI> who but now for pity calls,</L>
<L>Is Stabb'd or &s;o, &s;tay till the Curtain Falls,</L>
<L>Behind the Scenes we &s;trait rever&s;e his doom;</L>
<L>You'll &s;ee him fooling in the <HI>Tyring-Room.</HI></L>
<L>The&s;e are the harmle&s;s ways that <HI>Poets</HI> take,</L>
<L>We but pre&s;ent tho&s;e Tales that others make.</L>
<L>Our Faith and Duty's pure without allay;</L>
<L>As our <HI>Apollo,</HI> we our Kings obey;</L>
<L>To both <HI>Implicit</HI> Homage always pay.</L>
<L>When the God moves, we &s;eldom rea&s;oning &s;tand,</L>
<L>But fearle&s;s march where'er he does command.</L>
<L>And thus we treat all Mortal Maje&s;ty,</L>
<L>And never put the &s;aucy Que&s;tion, <HI>Why?</HI></L>
<L>The Mu&s;e to &s;uffer with the Crown, content,</L>
<L>We know, went into wilful Bani&s;hment.</L>
<L><HI>Cowley,</HI> that living and embodied Mu&s;e,</L>
<L>'Fore <HI>pro&s;perous</HI> Vice, <HI>unhappy</HI> Vertue cho&s;e,</L>
<L>In Foreign Air he &s;igh'd, and did complain,</L>
<L>And follow'd &s;till the <HI>Royal</HI> Exil'd Train,</L>
<L>Where beauteous <HI>Seine</HI> divides its noble way;</L>
<L>'Twas there the <HI>Melancholy Cowley</HI> lay:</L>
<L>Upon tho&s;e banks the in&s;pired Mortal &s;lept,</L>
<L>And when he thought of <HI>Sion</HI>'s woes, he wept.</L>
<L>His Harp neglected on a Willow hung,</L>
<L>And ne'er, till <HI>CHARLES</HI> in Triumph came, was &s;trung.</L>
<PB N="4" REF="3"><!-- PDF PAGE 42 -->
<L>Nay, till ble&s;t Years brought <HI>Cae&s;ar</HI> home again,</L>
<L><HI>Dryden</HI> to purpo&s;e never drew his Pen:</L>
<L>He, happy Favourite of the Tuneful Nine,</L>
<L>Came with an early offering to your &s;hrine,</L>
<L>Embalm'd in deathle&s;s Ver&s;e the Monarch's Name;</L>
<L>Ver&s;e, which &s;hall keep it fre&s;h, in Youthful prime,</L>
<L>When <HI>Ru&s;tat</HI>'s &s;acred gift mu&s;t yield to time.</L>
<L>Thus we, the humbler Fry, our mite have brought,</L>
<L>By him at once duty and numbers taught.</L>
<L>Our Lives&mdash; What's that? and our E&s;tates are le&s;s:</L>
<L>When <HI>Water-Men</HI> and <HI>Poets</HI> e'er addre&s;s,</L>
<L>Not the lea&s;t word of <HI>Fortunes</HI> they expre&s;s.</L>
</LG>
<LG>
<L>Thus much, dread Sir, accept.</L>
<L>Poets are <HI>Seers;</HI> in Fates Dark Journal skill'd,</L>
<L>We find each Page with glorious Actions fill'd:</L>
<L>Till unfledg'd Years bring on the happy Date,</L>
<L>Our Pens on your Victorious Sword &s;hall wait.</L>
</LG>
<TRAILER>FINIS.</TRAILER>
</DIV1>
</BODY>
<BACK>
<DIV1 TYPE="colophon">
<P><HI>LONDON,</HI> Printed for <HI>Luke Meredith,</HI> at the <HI>King</HI>'s Head at the We&s;t End of St. <HI>Paul</HI>'s <HI>Church-Yard,</HI> 1685.</P>
</DIV1>
</BACK>
</TEXT>
</EEBO>
</ETS>
