Tixall Poetry/To Mr Normington upon His Easterne Voyage

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On the Death of the Lady Catherin White in Child-Birth, at Rome

Tixall Poetry
edited by Arthur Clifford

To Mr Normington upon His Easterne Voyage by unknown author

To Cononell Plater, upon His Easterne Voyage

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4302641Tixall Poetry — To Mr Normington upon His Easterne VoyageArthur Cliffordunknown author

To

Mr Normington,

upon His Easterne Voyage.

You that have tasted Rhodanus and Po,And now to Nilus and to Ganges goe;That Alpes and Apenines by stepps have past,And now to Caucasus and Athos hast;Who, leaving Roman eagles, equall runneWith moones of Otoman, and Sophi's sunne;When you have seene what all the world admires,Rivers with gold, and mountaynes fraught with fires:When you shall equally sayle, toyle, and wander,With Jason, Hercules, and Alexander;And every severall clyme, and every zone,Make as familier to you as your owne: When you have wep'd your elegyes uponThe carcases of Troy and Babylon,And writt your grand child epytaphes, to tellWhat monuments did once at Memphys dwell:When you shall trace the genialogyesOf Cyprian, Persian, Lymnian dyetyes:When you shall see at Crete and Palastine,False Jove his tombe, and true Jehova's shrine:And shall discover the mechanick cheateOf worthyly still hanging Mahomett;Remember you are man, nor thinke to fly,Or scape th' immortal foe, Mortality.But thinke, that as you see the shadow doeIn each sunne-dyall full as much as you,Yet, though it eastwards post, ther's none will sayThe shadow gaines the light, or winnes the day:So traveling but makes us here beneathResemble more the images of death:Though Eagypts sunne may us to mummy burne,Arabian fumes can nere to phoenix turne.Oh three times happy that contented man,Who, measuring all the world with one sole spann, Contented with a single point of it,Can quiet in his native country sitt!And, as a stander-by at playes and shoes,Sees better farr then he that acts or goes:So he, in this our passing, acting age,Sees better in a cell then on a stage.And whilst you, pilgrim-like, bestirr your feete,For new acquaintance with each starr you meete,He hospitably stayes till each starr come,And freely entertaynes them all at home.Earth, syr, you know, was never worth your vew,And lett but Heaven alone, twill come to you.Or if you leane to that erratick skill,Makes earth a planett, and the sunn stand still,Say, therefore, that the sunn is the worlds eye,Cause ever standing still, he all may spy.