Improvement of Imprisonment, Poem 3 – Epigram
George Wither, His firſt Meditation, upon his Commitment to Newgate, Aug. 22. For his Poem called Vox Vulgi, neither Publiſhed nor Finiſhed.
I.
SO; I do now begin to be prefer'd;
And from an Owl within an Iviebuſh,
Advanced am, to be a Newgate-Bird,
As faſt incaged, as my foes need wiſh.
My Feathers have ſo pluckt already been
That, no more I can loſe now, but my skin,
And when that's torn away, I may preſume
My Fleſh and Bones, in ſhort time, will conſume.
II.
I was reſtrain'd before, but, not ſo ſtrait
Was my Reſtraint, nor in ſo cloſe a place;
I had my load, but not ſuch overweight,
Nor ſeem'd I, ſo expoſed to diſgrace.
My Friends were overcharg'd with me before,
And will, this way, be now oppreſſed more:
For, that whereof my Judges me condemn,
Falls not ſo much on me, as upon them.
III.
But, is this Newgate, whereof ſo afraid
Offenders are? Is this the diſmall place,
Wherein, before I came, I heard it ſaid
There's nothing, but grief, horrour, and diſgrace?
I find it otherwiſe; and, doubtleſs, either
It is bely'd; or, they who are ſent hither,
Within themſelves, when to this houſe they come,
Bring that, which makes it ſeem ſo troubleſome.
IV.
I no worſe here, then where I was before
Accommodated am: for, though confin'd
From ſomethings, which concern my Body more
Then formerly, it hath inlarg'd my mind.
Here, by degrees, with what the world moſt fears
(With Tormeuts, and their Executioners)
I may be ſo acquainted, if I pleaſe,
That, things which threaten pain, ſhall bring me eaſe.
V.
Here, I can ſee the bottom of that Pit
Which gapes to ſwallow me: here, I can view
What ſome, who have more proſpect, ſee not yet,
Nor will, till they their fears cannot eſchew.
Here, I find Objects to prepare me for
That, which my Fleſh and Blood, doth moſt abhor;
And, am aſſurd, that, to what place ſoe're
I, hence am ſent, that GOD, will meet me there.
VI.
Though here, my outward-being, ſeems no better,
But, in appearance dayly worſe to grow,
My Inward comforts and my hopes are greater,
And, will be greateſt when they make leaſt ſhow▪
Although my Oyl and Meal doth not increaſe
Since I came hither, 'tis no whit the leſs:
Yea, though I am at more charge every day,
Then did of late, a weeks expence defray:
VII.
For that coſt, they ſupplied have, to whom
My life, it ſeems, is dearer, then to me;
And, they ingaged for me are become;
LORD! whence proceeds this kindneſs, but from thee?
So is it, that, I now can hardly tell
Whether, my Friends, to ſave me, ſhew more zeal
Or they more malice, who have ſought of late
To ruine both my Perſon, and Eſtate.
VIII.
I find already, by what I have noted,
My beſt Expreſſions will concealed be.
My Verſes (as the Devil Scripture quoted)
Produc'd by Scrapps, to diſadvantage me.
I ſee my ſelf oppos'd by no ſmall odds,
Frown'd on, by mighty men, and mortal Gods
Who ſit ſo high, that they nor feel, nor know
What things are ſuff'red, by poor-men below.
IX.
Not onelyonly Railing Foes, on every ſide,
But my Acquaintaince alſo, and meer Strangers,
Unjuſtly, me defame, Jeer, and deride;
Threats follow me behind, before, lie dangers.
Yet to no mortal for ſupport I ſend,
Nor make complaints by Letter, or by Friends;
Nor will, except to them, to whom belongs
The Judging of my Actions, and my wrongs.
X.
My ſoul, theſe things conſider well, and whence
They do proceed: conſider why, likewiſe;
Who, puts into thy heart, this confidence;
Who, by unknown hands, each dayes want ſupplies;
Who, comforts doth augment as griefs increaſe;
Who, cloathes and feeds thee in this Wilderneſs,
And, when Terreſtrial ayds, are quite bereaven
Rains on thee, Quailes and Manna down from heaven.
XI.
Mark, how this Realm is here Epitomiz'd,
As to a Bleſt, and Reprobate condition:
How Mercies, and how Judgements are deſpis'd,
By moſt men, at the brinck of their perdition;
How few, be wrought upon, in either place,
By Threatnings, or by promiſes of Grace.
How many, laugh, ſing, ſwear, curſe and Blaſpheme
Even when, Hell, ready ſeems to ſwallow them.
XII.
Here, thou ſhalt ſee, that meer Stupidity
And graceleſneſs, tranſporteth many a man
To out-face Death, with leſs Timidity
Then ſome with all their Moral Vertues can:
Here, thou ſhalt learn, that if thy Proſecutions,
Thy zeal, thy Courage and thy Reſolutions
Spring onelyonly, from a Natural Eſtate,
Thou, with all theſe, mayſt be a Reprobate.
XIII.
Let therefore, theſe Experiments, which are
Be enteraain'd; and, if henceforth God ſhould
(As he perhaps will) common helps withdraw,
Let them quite go, and catch on him faſt hold.
For, if thou then deſpaire, or ſhalt diſtruſt
His Love, who never was to thee unjuſt,
This, will then prove to be a carnal-boaſt,
And, thou, with all thy vain hopes wilt be loſt.
XIV.
Since alſo, thou doſt feel thy heart more prone,
By ſmiles and favours, to be drawn aſide,
Then by harſh uſage, to be wrought upon,
Let thy weak'ſt Bulwarks be moſt fortifi'd,
Leſt, they, who have not ſtrength enough to win
The Fort by force, by Stratagems get in;
And, thou then ruin'd, be paſt all repair,
As many are, by thoſe, who ſpeak them fair.
XV.
That Spirit, try, which thy Reſolves begets;
For, other while, as reſolute are they
Who are poſſeſſed but with Ranting-Fits,
As any, in whom Paſſion bears no ſway.
Contempt of Torment, ſometimes ſprings from Madneſs,
Stoutneſs, from Anger, or deſpairing-ſadneſs:
Martyrs, and men, of Reprobated ſence,
Bear ſuff'rings, with ſmall outward difference.
XVI.
Search thou thy heart, therefore, with prudent care,
That, Malice, Pride, nor Vengeance lurk therein:
That Love of GOD, and all mankinde be there,
Linckt with a deteſtation of all Sin;
And, if thou find it ſo, be not afraid
What e're againſt thee ſhall be done or ſaid:
For, Reſolutions built upon that Rock,
Will, of all raging Stormes, endure the Shock.
XVII.
Though Princes in their Supream Councils blame thee,
And ſuch as are prophane, FANNATICK call thee;
They ſhall not able be, to fright or ſhame thee,
By any conſequent which may befall thee:
And, if ſo prudently thou guide, thy Pen
That, when it ſtrikes at faults it ſpares the men,
The Wiſe will form the Fools, themſelves devide,
And, every Juſt-mans Vote, be on thy ſide.
XVIII.
Though it alwayes proves not, do not grieve
Nor vex thereat: for, what GOD calls thee to,
To put in Execution thou ſhalt live,
In ſpight of all this froward world can do;
And future times, will laugh to ſcorn the storms
And Mountains, rais'd by Gyants, againſt worms
When they ſhall ſee, (which they will ſee at laſt)
The Towers of Babel on their Builders caſt.
XIX.
Make Jeſus Chriſt, to be the ſole Foundation,
Of thy Affection, of thy Hope and Truſt,
Of thy Belief, of thy Sanctification,
Of all thy Muſings, and of all thou doſt:
For, nothing Juſtifies, but, doth Condemn,
That is not, In, for, from, and by him,
Without reſpect to any Intereſt,
Except, what, with his Glory, may conſiſt.
XX.
LORD, thou haſt, by renewing, in ſome meaſure
My much depraved Will, inclined me,
In all things, to ſubmit to thy good pleaſure,
Let what's defective, now, made perfect be,
That, known it may be to this Generation,
Man may attain to ſuch a Reſignation,
That, he ſhall more delight, thy will to do,
Then, that, which his own will, provokes him to.
XXI.
Prais'd be thy Bleſſed Name, who, as thou didſt
For Joſeph (when he was in Priſon bound)
For me, in my Impriſonment provid'ſt,
And, by thy ſervants, every where art found:
Be with me, as to be thou haſt begun,
Until my Generation Work is done,
And, when that's finiſh'd, for which I was born,
Let me with Joy, into thine Arms return.
To the Right Honourable the Lord Mayor, and the reſt of the Commiſſioners of the Peace and Jail-delivery, for the City of London, now Aſſembled in a General Seſſions.
The Humble Petition of George Wither.
THe ſaid Petitioner, having ſix and thiry years now paſt (before the great Peſtilence raged) lived in this City (about half that time, after he came to mature Age) did in Affection thereunto, make here, his Voluntary Reſidence, when hundreds of thouſands forſook their Habitations, that if GOD ſpared his life during that mortality, he might be a Remembrancer of his Judgements and Mercies, both to this City, and the whole Nation; which he performing according to his ability, hath hitherto (with his life onelyonly, and a good Conſcience) eſcaped the Plagues of War, Poverty, Peſtilences, and Parliaments; and is now a Priſoner in your Jail of Newgate, in order to be try'd, by the Houſe of Commons, at their next Meeting, for intending to offer to the private conſideration of the Lord Chancellor of England, a Poem called Vox Vulgi, ſurprized (before it was finiſhed) in this Petitioners hands; who being lately ſo Totally deprived of a conſiderable eſtate as not to be left worth this piece of Paper, is in danger through want of neceſſaries, to periſh within your Walls, before the time of his Tryal will come, unleſs GOD (as he hath lately done) ſhall Extraordinarily provide him his dayly bread, by the Charity of ſome, who, perhaps are ſcarce able to provide for themſelves and Families.
The ſaid Petitionor therefore, (conceiving himſelf obliged by the Law of Nature, to do what he can to preſerve his life (though there be nothing therein conſiderable, for its own ſake) humbly prayes your Honours that, if he can procure Bail, it may be accepted for his appearance, when it ſhall be required, before the ſaid Houſe of Commons; who being the Repreſentative of them, whoſe welfare he hath preferred before his own, and the Court to whoſe doom he ſeems to be referred by the Warrant for his Commitment hither, the ſaid Petitioner, will patiently ſubmit thereunto.
If it be in your Power, and may ſtand with your good pleaſure to vouchſafe him this humble requeſt, the ſaid Petioner thankfully acknowledging your Juſtice and compaſſion, will pray for you as in duty he is bound.
George Wither.
The foregoing Petition, being dilivered to the Lord Mayor at the Seſſions, and no Bail allowed to the Petitioner, he forthwith compoſed this Epigram.
To the City of London.
VVEre I, a Perſon, who had power to better
Thy Trade, or make thy Priviledges greater,
Or take away the Citizens Eſtates,
Thy Walls diſmantle, or break down thy Gates,
I had been lookt upon, though I had done
To thee no kindneſs, neither meant thee one.
But, of his love, there is no value made
Who nought can to to thy wealth or greatneſs add,
Though he his life ſhould hazzard for thy ſake,
That, thee for ever, he might happy make.
BAII, will not be vouchſaf'd; but, I muſt lie
Among thy Rogues, expos'd to live or die;
To ſtarve or begg; and wholly be debar'd
Of Liberty, unpitied and unheard
For doing what was honeſtly intended;
And, wherein, I againſt no Law offended.
This is, I muſt confeſſe, nor leſs nor more,
Then, I had reaſon to expect before:
Yet, all my labour, is not caſt away,
For, it occaſion gives me, thus to ſay.
I wiſh'd thee well, and will, what ever ſhall
To me, in my extremities befall;
For, here's a number yet within this place,
Who are of thoſe in whom the Seeds of Grace
So fructifie, that GOD hath ſuperſeded
For their ſakes, that for which his Juſtice pleaded;
And I have in my perſonal diſtreſſe
So taſted of their Charitableneſs,
That, thereby I, enjoying health, and life
(My ſelf not ſeeking, but thy peace in chief)
Expect that Juſtice only, from thy hands
Whereon thine honour and thy welfare ſtands;
Which neither is thy Riches, or thy Power
For, theſe may come to nothing, in one hour;
And, if to them, thou overmuch incline,
I will not change my poor eſtate for thine.
Among the Prodigies, by many ſeen
This year, I, might for one, have numbred been,
If I, ſhould all Particulars relate
Which do concern my Perſon and Eſtate:
But, they muſt now Phanaticks counted be
Who, either do believe what they ſhall ſee,
Or dare take notice, of thoſe things that vary
From GOD's proceed, in courſes ordinary;
And, therefore, I think fitting to conceal them,
Till that, which is to follow, doth reveal them,
To manifeſt, without all Dubitation,
That, God hath ſpoken to this Generation.
Mean while, I'le ſuffer: for, our Peace muſt now
Not from our Actings, but, from ſuff'rings flow.
Yet, whether, I deſerve reſpect or blame,
Know LONDON, ſince I now thy Priſoner am,
That, if I have not wherewith to ſubſiſt
Thou art oblig'd, to find me bread, at leaſt,
Whilſt here I ſhall confinement undergo,
Though I had alwayes been thine open foe;
And, that 'tis Tyranny (what ere they are)
To lay on any, more they can bear.
Know likewiſe, that, if here I ſhall miſcarry
Through lack of what, for life is neceſſary
Thou, thereby forfeiteſt, (as I conceive)
A better Charter, then the King can give:
Becauſe, through want of Charity to foes,
Much more to Friends, our part in Chriſt we loſe.
What I have been to thee, it hath been ſhown;
What thou to me art, it will now be known.
And, poſſibly, another Creation
Will heed, that I am ſomewhat to this Nation,
Deſerving better, then that lie I ſhould
Within a Jail, at ſeventy three years old,
For acting and deſigning nothing worſe
Then, how to ſave them from a greater curſe.
Look to your ſelves; For, whether bond or free
I am; I know, my GOD, will look to me;
And, I and mine, ſhall be both cloath'd and fed,
When they who ſlieghted us, want Robes & bread.
So believeth George Wither.