The Protector, Author to the reader
A RECAL to the Reader.
MY POEM'S done; yet, prethee READER ſtay:
I have another word or two, to ſay,
VVherewith, before thou hence depart, I will
Theſe following leaves of empty paper fill:
That, if it ſhall be poſſible, I might
Once in my life, to thy advantage write,
And, of my labour, view ſome fruit, before
I, there am laid, where, I ſhall ſpeak no more;
And, that, thoſe Truths, which I have oft, in vain,
Spoke mildly, be not eccho'd forth again
VVith dreadful Repetitions, unto thoſe
VVho, to my Charmes, their Adders ears now cloſe;
Or, ſcorn, and ſlight them, as fantaſtick dreams,
Or, needleſs deſcants, upon trivial Theams.
Having perus'd this, what art thou the better?
Unleſs, thou finde ariſing from the Letter,
That Spirit, which begot theſe words in me,
The Soul of them, infuſing into thee?
VVith credit of their Truth, and with a ſence
Of that, eternal Love's, ſweet influence,
VVhichWhich, for thy welfare, did my heart incline
To pour forth my Affections, into thine?
That, thou mightſt, timely, take from hence occaſion
Of due reſolvings, for thy preſervation:
For, on this fatal juncture of Affairs,
Either thy Ruine, or elſe, thy Repairs
Do now depend; and, will have an effect,
According, as thy Courſe, thou ſhalt direct.
What, wilt thou profit by it, if thou, ſtill,
Retaineſt a Perverſeneſs in thy Will?
How ill doſt thou requite me, if, my Love
No change in thy affections, hereby move?
Since, I, deſire no other recompence,
But, that, thou mayſt have benefit from hence?
And, I, that ſmall ſhare, which a ſingle one
Hath in that good, which is to many done?
And, with, how little comfort, ſhall I ſpeak
Another time, if, no effect, this take?
What, had I thereby loſt, if unexpreſt,
Theſe things, had ſtill remained in my breſt?
Since, I had been, whilſt they continu'd there,
The ſame I am, now they divulged are?
Or, what, by ſetting thus my heart at large,
Gain I, except, my Conſciences diſcharge,
With ſome weak hopes, that, thou, and others, may
Be benefited, by the words I ſay?
Sure, none: Then, grudge me not that ſmall effect,
Which, from this Friendly ſervice, I, expect
By thy improvement; in which profit, thine
Will be a Portion, far exceeding mine.
If, for my ſole Advantage, thou believe
I, publiſh this; thy thinkings, thee deceive;
Nor, Profit, or Protection, peace or praiſe
Do I obtain, or look for, in theſe days
By ſuch Expreſſions; or, by Services
Which are ſo little cared for, as theſe.
Whilſt many, ſad Confuſions on us lies;
VVhilſt, moſt men, their own ſafety do deſpiſe;
And, when, few, any Cautions much regard,
Save thoſe, whereby, vain ends may be preſer'd;
I ſhall, to this intent, prevail no more
Then if I ſhould endeavour, to out-rore
The Windes and Seas. I have, now, yeer, by yeer,
And almoſt day by day, attended there
Full twice ſix yeers; where, was within one wall
A perfect Repreſentative of all
Within this Iſle, both at the beſt and worſt;
And I ſo well obſerv'd it, from the firſt,
Ev'n to the laſt; and, by that Model, ſee
So truely, what of thoſe may judged be
Whom they did repreſent, that I preſume
Gods providence conſtrain'd me to conſume
So many hours, to wait on them in vain,
That, by ſuch loſs, I, better things might gain.
What can be got by words? where ſighs, & grones,
And tears, & cries, move men no more then ſtones?
When five, or ten, or twelve whole yeers delay
Shall be no more conſider'd then a day?
And, when nor wants, nor juſtneſs of the Cauſe,
Nor Importunitie, compaſſion draws;
Or, where few Suits are brought to wiſhed end
But by a Bribe, or ſome corrupted friend?
What, can be got by words, deſir'd by none?
When deeds, which, for the Publike weal were done,
And, begg'd for, with a vowed Retribution,
Have neither good reſpect, nor reſtitution?
Where, ſetious Proteſtations, are forgot?
Where promiſes, ſeem things intended not?
And, when moſt men, reſolved ſeem, to cheriſh
Their wilfulneſs, although thereby, they periſh?
If, for my words, receive again, I may
Reſpective words, I take it for large pay,
And, 'twill enough content me, if my will
To do thee good, be not repay'd with ill;
Or, if I may but know, ere 't is too late,
My hope, of what is juſtly aimed at,
Shall be deny'd, with loſs of no more coſt,
Or, time, then is thereon, already loſt:
For, ſuch a mercy, many had prſerv'd,
Whom fruitleſs hopes have begger'd, yea, & ſtarv'd.
If, thou ſuppoſe, I, gain, by what I write;
Conſider it, and thou ſuch thoughts wilt ſlight.
What profit is it, which, thence raiſe he may
Who writes, and prints, and freely gives away
At his own charge? and, doth expect no more,
But, good acceptance, and the reading o'er?
What gain I, elſe, for time and labour ſpent,
But, to my face, perhaps, a Complement?
And, ſometimes, when my back is turn'd about,
A ſecret ſleight, or, elſe, an open flout?
What Patronage, have I, yet thereby gained
Through which, my cauſe, or perſon, is ſuſtained?
What favours, am I likely to obtain,
Who flatter not the proud, nor ſooth the vain?
But, rather, venture Freedom, and Eſtate,
Then, not to ſpeak truth home; or, ſpeak too late
So, need require it; ſo, my free expreſſion
Wrongs not the Common Peace, nor ſound diſcretion
Nor Innocents; nor, thoſe, who guilty are,
Arraigneth anywhere, ſave at the Bar
Of their own Conſciences, by Writs, that come
In gen'ral terms, and to I know not whom?
If, thou conceive, that, I ambitious am
Of Praiſe hereby; Thou, therein art too blame.
What praiſe, from POETRY, can I expect,
Which, findes an Epidemical neglect?
Chiefly, from ſuch as mine, upon ſuch Theams
As I oft chuſe? and, when both winds and ſtreams
Againſt me are? and, alſo, in a time,
When Poetry it ſelf is thought a crime?
When, they, who would reputed be, moſt holy,
Look on it, as Prophaneſs, or meer folly?
VVhen, they, you call the VVITS, all ſtrains diſguſt
That, ſooth not vanitie, or ſtir up luſt?
Or, are not, with forc'd metaphors, and words
(VVhoſe juncture, neither perfect ſenſe affords,
Nor any uſeful matter) ſent abroad
Dreſt, and trim'd up, in their affected mode?
And, when the moſt part, are ſo ignorant,
That, they, ſufficient underſtanding want
To read a Verſe? and, put no difference
'Twixt beſt Compoſers, and that baſe non-ſence
VVhichWhich, Pedlers, up and down the Country bring,
And, Rogues and Whores about the City ſing?
Nor, is my Peace, or ſafety to be got
Thereby; and, doubtleſs, if I know it not,
I am a fool: for, I, have often loſt
My Freedom by it, with no little coſt.
He, that their Courſes, conſtantly gainſays,
VVho, Ahab-like, are wilful in their ways,
From them, gets nothing, by his contradiction,
But, Micah's bread and water of affliction.
And, what on my Remembrancer, enſu'd,
(VVhichWhich, thouſands in my time, fulfil'd have view'd)
Informs me fully, what retaliation
I, am to look for, from this Generation.
VVho, then can think, that, he, who doth expoſe
His thoughts, as I have done, to friends and foes,
Amidſt ſo many Factions? (when, but one
He well can pleaſe, and, peradventure none?)
VVho then, I ſay, can think, that outward reſt
VVas his chief aim? or, his own Intereſt
The mark he ſhot at? or, that he ſhall ever
Finde Peace external, whilſt, he doth perſever
In ſuch a Courſe? until, a change, GOD brings,
As well in Manners, as in other things?
Such, onelyonly, hitherto, hath been my lot,
That, I, in ſixty ſix yeers have ſcarce got
Six months together of that common Reſt,
VVhichWhich is by many, all their life poſſeſt;
And, now of late, unto what Side ſoe'er,
Or, Principle, I truely did adhere:
Some men of all Sides; ev'n of That, whoſe Cauſe
Hath had my ſuffrages, pen, purſe, applauſe,
And faithful'ſt aid, hath brought as ſad effects
On me, by their deſpights, or diſreſpects,
As have all they, whoſe more deſerved hate,
My Pen, for their ſakes, did exaſperate.
Nay; would it were no worſe: By ſome of thoſe,
I ſuffer more, then, by our common Foes.
VVhichWhich, here, I mention, onelyonly to prevent
A falſe ſurmiſe; and, not in diſcontent:
For, I, embrace my Portion, with thanks-giving,
And, would not change it, with the beſt man living!
To ſum up all, and give thee my beſt pledge
For my good meaning, in what I alledge;
I hereby call to witneſs, Him, that knows
VVhat, in my heart, I ſecretly propoſe,
That, my chief purpoſe in divulging this,
Is, to reform, thoſe things which are amiſs
Both, in my ſelf, and others: to make ſtrong
His hand, to whom this Title doth belong:
And, to preſerve that Peace, which, being loſt,
More then our lives, and our eſtates may coſt.
I look for nothing, but to be abus'd
And, ſome way to be wrongfully accus'd
By thoſe whom this diſtaſtes, that, it may ſeem
The leſs worth hearing, by my diſeſteem:
And if his Vertue, who muſt break the blow
Defend me not, I'm ſure it will be ſo.
I nothing ſeek on me to be beſtown
Save onelyonly that, which is by right mine own;
To diſengage me from the world; wherein
(And wherewith) I, unwarily have bin
Too far, of late, engaged; and, from whom
I cannot fairly diſoblig'd become,
VVithout a Retribution, of ſuch things
VVhichWhich ſhe hath lent; yea, which her promiſings
Embolden'd me to take; (and, which, ſhe knows
That, more then twice told, ſhe unto me ows,
Upon a juſt Account.) But, were I free,
I hope ſhe ſhould not re-intangle me
In ought, ſave what will viſibly pertain
More to the Publike, then my private gain.
For, my ambition, is to live and die
Henceforth, unheeded; and, retir'd to lie
VVhere, I a little while, without annoy,
My ſelf, with my relations, may enjoy:
And, then, reſigne my place, to him, that muſt
Supply it, when I ſlumber in the duſt.
But if this be too great an earthly bliſs,
For my enjoyment; yet I'm ſure of this,
That, I ſhall there be laid, ere it be long,
VVhere, I ſhall have no ſenſe of right or wrong;
And, though I nothing have, reſt quiet, there,
VVhere, I ſhall alſo, neither want, nor care.
This Postſcript, READER, is on thee beſtown,
To rouze thy Spirit, and hold up mine own;
(VVho, have enough to do, to keep my mind
Cloſe to that work, for which I was deſign'd,
Amid thoſe great temptations, and deſertions
VVhichWhich ſet before me manifold diverſions:)
And, if, thou make me, now, no recompence,
For this my Pains, by drawing profit hence
Unto thy ſelf; thou, wholly, wilt deſtroy,
That, which I hereby hoped to enjoy,
And, doſt me wrong. To thee, thus much, to tell
I had a minde: which being done, Farewel.
Henceforth, ſay, or or gainſay; do, what ye will;
(Let him, that's filthy, ſo continue ſtill.)
I've done my part, to make clean what was foul;
I, to my pow'r, have here diſcharg'd my Soul,
Of what it had in charge; and, on this ſtring
VVill ſtrike no more: But for the future ſing
To GOD, and to my ſelf, till they appear
VVho come with eyes to ſee, and ears to hear.
FINIS.
End of the text · George Wither, The Protector (1655)