Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO THE BISHOP OF LINCOLN, ON .. ENLARGEMENT OUT OF THE TOWER, by ABRAHAM COWLEY


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TO THE BISHOP OF LINCOLN, ON .. ENLARGEMENT OUT OF THE TOWER, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Pardon, my lord, that I am come so late
Last Line: And rather be your friend, then be your slave.
Subject(s): Tower Of London; Williams, John. Archbishop Of Canterbury


PArdon, my Lord, that I am come so late
T' express my joy for your return of Fate.
So when injurious Chance did you deprive
Of Liberty, at first I could not grieve;
My Thoughts a while, like you, Imprison'd lay;
Great Joys as well as Sorrows make a Stay;
They hinder one another in the Crowd,
And none are heard, whilst all would speak aloud.
Should ev'ry man's officious gladness hast,
And be afraid to shew it self the last,
The throng of Gratulations now would be
Another Loss to you of Libertie.
When of your freedom men the news did heare,
Where it was wisht for, that is every where;
'Twas like the Speech which from your Lips does fall,
As soon as it was heard, it ravisht all.
So Eloqu'ent Tully did from Exile come;
Thus long'd for he return'd, and cherisht Rome,
Which could no more his Tongue and Counsels miss;
Rome, the World's Head, was nothing without His.
Wrong to those sacred Ashes I should do,
Should I compare any to Him but You;
You to whom Art and Nature did dispence
The Consulship of Wit and Eloquence.
Nor did your fate differ from his at all,
Because the doom of Exile was his fall,
For the whole World without a native home
Is nothing but a Prison of larger roome.
But like a melting Woman suffer'd He,
He, who before out-did Humanitie.
Nor could his Sp'rit constant and stedfast prove,
Whose Art 't had been, and greatest end to Move.
You put ill Fortune in so good a dress,
That it out-shone other men's Happiness.
Had your Prosperity always clearly gon
As your high Merits would have led it on,
You'ad Half been lost, and an Example then
But for the Happy, the least part of men.
Your very Suff'rings did so Graceful shew,
That some straight envyed your Affliction too.
For a clear Conscience and Heroick Mind
In Ills, their Business and their Glory find.
So though less worthy stones are drown'd in night,
The faithful Diamond keeps his Native Light;
And is oblig'd to Darkness for a ray
That would be more opprest then helpt by Day.
Your Soul then most shew'd her unconquer'd power,
Was stronger and more armed then the Tower.
Sure unkinde fate will tempt your Sp'rit no more,
She 'as tryed her Weakness and your Strength before.
To oppose him still who once has Conquer'd so,
Were now to be your Rebel, not your Foe.
Fortune henceforth will more of Providence have,
And rather be your Friend, then be your Slave.





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