To Sr Will. D'Avenant, Upon His Two First Books of Gondibert

E thinks Heroick Poesie till now, Like some fantastick Fairy-land did show; Gods, Devils, Nymphs, Witches, and Giants race, And all but Man, in Mans best Work had place. Thou like some worthy Knight, with sacred Arms Dost drive the thence, and end the Charms: In stead of those, dost and Manners plant, The things which that rich Soyl did chiefly want. But even thy do their excell, Taught by thy Muse to Fight and Love so well. By fatal hands whilest present Empires fall, Thine from the grave past Monarchies recal. So much more thanks from humane kind does merit The Poets fury, than the Zelots Spirit. And from the grave thou mak'st this Empire rise, Not like some dreadfull Ghost t'affright our Eyes, But with more beauty and triumphant state, Than when it crown'd at proud sate. So will our God re-build Mans perish'd frame, And raise him up much better, yet the same: So God-like Poets do past things rehearse, Not change, but heighten Nature with their Verse. With shame me thinks great must see Her Conqu'rors call'd to life again by thee; Call'd by such powerfull Arts, that ancient May blush •o less to see her Wit orecome. Some men their Fancies like their Faiths derive; And count all ill but that which Rome does give; The marks of and would find; To the same Chair would and bind. Thou in these beaten paths disdain'st to tread, And scorn'st to live by robbing of the Dead. Since Time does all things change, thou think'st not fit This latter Age should see all new, but . Thy Fancie, like a Flame, her way does make, And leaves bright tracks for following Pens to take. Sure 'twas this noble boldness of the Did thy desire, to seek new Worlds, infuse; And ne'r did Heaven so much a Voyage bless, If thou canst Plant but there with like success.