A Continuance of Albions England: To the Reader by William Warner

By divers importun’d to this,
I sent it foorth, such as it is.
This idle Arte that lets it thrive
Was Midwife to the Abortive:
Doe dandle, knock it on the head,
All one to me alive or dead.
The Musists, though themselves they please,
Their Dotage els finds Meede nor Ease:
Vouch’t Spencer in that Ranke preferd,
Per Accidens, only interr’d
Nigh Venerable Chaucer, lost,
Had not kinde Brigham reard him Cost,
Found next the doore Church-outed neere,
And yet a Knight, Arch-Lauriat Heere.
Adde Stows late antiquarious Pen,
That annald for ungratefull Men:
Next Chronicler omit it not
His licenc’t Basons little got:
Liv’d poorely where he Trophies gave,
Lies poorely There in notelesse grave.
As These in Theirs, so we in Ours,
And who write best lose better houres,
And most-what but for Nods doe cense
Saints, senselesse of more Recompence.
No marvell, Poetrie seemes gon
To Bedlam now from Helicon.
Yea most her Priests Intemperature
So diffreth from their Literature,
Their Literature obscenously
So suteth to Scurrilitie,
As if, Aonides, it hold,
You from your sacred Hill of old
Pierides will dare to skold.
Mnemosynes, retract I this,
Ambrosia sweete and Nectar is
Your food, and yee eternize’d live,
Not as yee take, but as yee give.
Invested with Imperiall Robe,
Or circumfer’d the varied Globe,
Arts, Armes, or what, for what, or who,
Out-lives one Age unles by you?
For Homer, at Achillis Tombe,
This blest did Alexander doome.
In Mysteries oft as in those
Ilias, Trans-shapes, Aeneidos,
In patent Letter also ye
Make longest dead alive to be.
Thrice-noble Thrice Three Joves high Breede,
How happie ye whom happiest meede?
Nor sleepeth your Anagraphie
The sensuall Follies of the Hie,
Nor crested Chorles that for Coynes skill,
More Standings heare than Bellies fill,
Nor those could with ye them passe-bay
As if a dungled Asse should die.
Yet he that fierd th’ Ephesian Phane
Did it your Pens Report to gaine:
As Faux, that him might scorne Compeere
For Project more prodigious heere.
Thus vertuous and prophane, in few,
Have Perpetuitie from you,
Praisd or dispraisd examplarlie,
So profiting Posteritie.
Sixe passed Presses past us ill,
As, not unlikely, this Presse will.
Muse, that twi-bucketted hast bin,
Emptedst poore wit poore winde to win,
Twice towredst to a severall Steeple,
Didst kenne no Patrons but the People,
Shunne Eares unarted, rude, precise,
Seeke Loves that ours shall sympathize.

From: http://spenserians.cath.vt.edu/TextRecord.php?action=GET&textsid=33042

Date: 1606

By: William Warner (?1558-1609)

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