Verse > Anthologies > Edward Farr, comp. > Jacobean Poetry
Edward Farr, ed.  Select Poetry of the Reign of King James the First.  1847.
IV. Simion Grahame
EACH 1 hath his time whom Fortune will aduance,
Whose fickle wheel runs restless round about;
Some flattering lye oft changeth others’ chance,
Dangers deceipt in guiltie harts breeds doubt.
            It’s seene        5
            What yet hath beene,
        With tract of time to passe
            And change
            Of fortune strange
        At last hath turn’d their glasse.        10
Enuie triumphs on tops of high estate,
All ouer hung with veiles of feigned show;
Man climbes aboue the course of such conceates,
That loftie-like they loath to look below.
            And what?        15
            All’s hazard that
        We seek on dice to set;
            For some
            To heights do come
        That fall in danger’s net.        20
The gallant man, if poore, hee’s thought a wretch,
His virtue rare is held in high disdayne;
The greatest fool is wise if he be ritch,
And wisdome flowes from his lunatique brayne.
            Thus see        25
            Rare spirits to bee
        Of no account at all;
            Hath got such place,
        Each joyes at other’s fall.        30
The brib’rous minde who makes a god of gould,
He scornes to plead without he haue reward;
Then poore men’s suites at highest rates are sould,
Whilst Aurice damn’d, nor Truth have no regard:
            For heere        35
            He hath no feare
        Of God’s consuming curse:
            His gaines
            Doth pull with paines
        Plagues from the poore man’s purse.        40
The furious flames of Sodom’s sodaine fire
With feruent force consume vaine pride to nought;
With wings of wax let soaring him aspire
Aboue the starres of his ambition’s thought;
            And so        45
            When hee doth go
        On top of pride’s high glory,
            Then shall
            His sodain fall
        Become the world’s sad story.        50
Ingratitude, that ill-ill-fauored ill,
In noble breastes hath builded castles strong;
Obliuion setts vp troph’s that still
Bewrayes the filthy vildeness of that wrong:
            Ah! minde        55
            Where deu’llish kinde
        Ingratitude doth dwell;
            That ill
            Coequals still
        The greatest ill in hell.        60
On poyson’s filth contagious error spreads,
Heauen’s spotless eyes look as amaz’d with wonder;
Their viprous mindes such raging horror breedes,
To teare religion’s virgin roabes asunder.
            What then?        65
            O wicked men,
        And hel’s eternal, pray:
            Go mourne,
            And in time turne
        From your erronius way.        70
What course wants crosse? What kind of state wants strife?
What worldling yet would euer seem content?
What haue we heere in this our thwarting life?
Joy, beautie, honour, loue, like smoak are spent.
            I say,        75
            Time goes away,
        Without returne againe:
            How wise
            Who can despise
        These worldly vapours vaine!        80
Note 1. IV. Simion Grahame.—He was the son of Archibald Grahame, a burgess of Edinburgh. He was born about 1570, and was indebted for a liberal education to King James VI. of Scotland. After he left school he successively became a traveller, soldier, and courtier. In the beginning of the next century he returned from his travels, and in 1604 dedicated to his early patron, then king of England, a small collection of poems under the title of “A Passionate Sparke of a relenting minde.” He also wrote a work entitled “Passionado,” and another of prose interspersed with poetry, denominated “The Anatomie of Hvmors.” He died in 1614. [back]

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