SLumbring I lay in melancholy bed, <br />Before the dawning of the sanguin light: <br />When Eccho Shrill, or some Familiar Spright <br />Buzzed an Epitaph into my hed. <br />Magnifique Mindes, bred of Gargantuas race, <br />In grisly weedes His Obsequies waiment, <br />Whose Corps on Powles, whose mind triumph'd on Kent, <br />Scorning to bate Sir Rodomont an ace. <br />I mus'd awhile: and hauing mus'd awhile, <br />Iesu, (quoth I) is that Gargantua minde <br />Conquerd, and left no Scanderbeg behinde ? <br />Vowed he not to Powles A Second bile? <br />What bile, or kibe? (quoth that same early Spright) <br />Haue you forgot the Scanderbegging wight? <br />Glosse. <br />Is it a Dreame? or is the Highest minde, <br />That euer haunted Powles, or hunted winde, <br />Bereaft of that same sky-surmounting breath, <br />That breath, that taught the Timpany to swell? <br />He, and the Plague contended for the game: <br />The hawty man extolles his hideous thoughtes, <br />And gloriously insultes vpon poore soules, <br />That plague themselues: for faint harts plague themselues. <br />The tyrant Sicknesse of base-minded slaues <br />Oh how it dominer's in Coward Lane? <br />So Surquidry rang-out his larum bell, <br />When he had girn'd at many a dolefull knell. <br />The graund Dissease disdain'd his toade Conceit, <br />And smiling at his tamberlaine contempt, <br />Sternely struck-home the peremptory stroke. <br />He that nor feared God, nor dreaded Diu'll, <br />Nor ought admired, but his wondrous selfe: <br />Like Iunos gawdy Bird, that prowdly stares <br />On glittring fan of his triumphant taile: <br />Or like the ugly Bugg, that scorn'd to dy, <br />And mountes of Glory rear'd in towring witt: <br />Alas: but Babell Pride must kisse the pitt. <br />L'enuoy . <br />Powles steeple, and a hugyer thing is downe: <br />Beware the next Bull-beggar of the towne.<br /><br />Gabriel Harvey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/frendly-caueat-to-the-second-shakerley-of-powles/
