What time late sate upon my closed eyes,
Endued by Jove with magic influence, Slumber;
Things strange my nimble Fancy did devise,
Whiles nought of earthly sense did it encumber;
Methought, that Queen of ever-honour’d name,
Philippa, ‘fore mine eyes did pass confest;
Anon at modest-seeming distance came
An aged Form, yclad in priestly Vest;
His praying looks oftimes to Heav’n up-rear’d,
As oft upon a certain Scroll cast down,
Where goodly draught of sacred houses appear’d,
Eftsoons for grace and lore to win renown:
These follow’d were by num’rous gowned tribe,
Which, heav’nly Muse, me help most fittingly describe.
First, holy Dame Divinity did lead
A rev’rend band of Elders sable-clad;
All, as they walk’d, did ghostly bookes read
With greedy eyes and looks beseemly-sad;
(Aside stood Satan, and him Envy burn’d,
Sight hateful, sight tormenting did him gall;
His eyes with jealous leer askance he turn’d,
Whiles useless vengeance flash’d from either ball
Twain heav’nly Forms did hand in hand attend;
Zeal hight the one, the other Charity,
Of Truth the one, the other Mankind’s friend;
The first did seem in holy Cause full bold
The last Good-will to all did in meek count’ance hold.
Next them a train of younger Clerkes came,
With num’rous Ladies, different in attire
But sisters all, and by one common name
Hight Sciences, ere while an ethnic choir;
But now did Guardian Angel them deduce
After that serious Dame Divinity,
Bringing unholy lore to holy use,
And Arts, else vainest, thus did sanctify:
(Then Satan’s soul was suddenly replete
With Disappointment’s anguish; having Creed
‘Fore-entertain’d, that with vain deceit
Those ethnic Nymphs wou’d Christian Clerks mislead
All pass’d in decent rank and grave array,
Nor Poesy, most lewd, once wanton’d by the way.
Now had mine eyes with wond’ring Pleasance view’d
So fair a train, and cou’d for aye have gaz’d;
When, suddenly, they saw the same pursu’d
By motley crew of Clerkes seeming-craz’d:
Their Leader wore fantastic cap of fool,
Bedight each side with ear of braying beast,
******* yclept: (him Satan found fit tool
To work despight unto that holy Priest)
Onward he led his prick-ear’d crew, and gall’d
The heels of sober Clerkes gone before:
At so unworthy sight I stood appall’d,
And all indignant this last Vision bore:-
Thus, after courtly process of the Great,
The looker’s grieved eye doth Mob unsightly meet.
(Henry Harington)
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Based on Topics: Sadness Poems, Soul Poems, Sense & Perception Poems, Friendship Poems, Name Poems, Art Poems, Truth Poems, Charity Poems, Fool Poems, Boredom Poems, Science PoemsBased on Keywords: bookes, clerkes, gowned, encumber, mislead, deduce, yclept, vainest, looker, eftsoons, oftimes