Page:Madagascar, with other poems - Davenant (1638).djvu/102

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To Endimion Porter.

It is (Lord of my Muse and heart) since lastThy sight inspir'd me, many ages past.In darknesse thick as ill-met Clouds can make,In sleeps wherein the last Trump scarce could wakeThe guiltlesse dead, I lay; and hidden moreThan Truth, which testy Controverts explore.More hid than paths of Snakes, to their deep beds,Or walkes of Mountaine-Springs from their first Heads:And when my long forgotten Eies, and Mind,Awak'd; I thought to see the Sunne declin'dThrough age, to th' influence of a Starre, and MenSo small, that they might live in Wombes agen.But now, my strength's so giantly, that wereThe great Hill-lifters once more toyling here;They'ld choose me out, for active Back, for Bone,To heave at Pælion first, and heave alone.

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