|
And seing the snail, which every where doth rome; |
Carrying his own house still, still is at home: |
Follow, (for he is easie pac'd) this snail, |
Be thine own Palace, or the world's thy gail. |
And in the worlds sea do not like cork sleep |
Upon the waters face, nor in the deep |
Sink like a lead without a line: but as |
Fishes glide, leaving no print where they pass, |
Nor making sound: so, closely thy coarse goe, |
Let men dispute, whether thou breath, or no: |
Only in this be no Galenist. To make |
Courts hot ambitions wholesome, do not take |
A dram of Countries dulnesse; do not add |
Correctives, but as chymiques, purge the bad. |
But, Sir, I advise not you, I rather do |
Say o'r those lessons, which I learn'd of you: |
Whom, free from Germanies Schismes, and lightnesse |
Of France, and fair Italies faithlesness, |
Having from these suck'd all they had of worth, |
And brought home that faith which you carried forth, |
I throughly love: But if my self I'have won |
To know my rules, I have, and you have DONNE. |
|
To Sir Henry Goodyere. |
|
Who makes the last; a pattern for next year, |
Turns no new leaf, but still the same things reads, |
Seen things he sees again, heard things doth hear, |
And makes his life but like a pair of beads. |
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A Palace when 'tis that, which it should be, |
Leaves growing and stands such, or else decayes: |
But he which dwells there is not so; for he |
Strives to urge upward, and his fortune raise.
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[CW: So] |