To The Flatterer Poem by John Andrewes

Thou that canst grieue because another smiles,
and giue, to vndeseruing spirits, stiles
Which thou dost filch from gen'rous noble minds;
because thy poore obsequious humour findes
Cold intertainment there, tell me; dost thinke
that all are blinde that are content to winke?
Or that thy shamelesse flattery beguiles
euery man that at thy glozing smiles?
Assure thy selfe thy thoughts deceiue thee much;
for many smile to see thy basenesse such:
And such as thou think'st blind more truly see
thy heart, then they that hugge thy flatterie;
And (scorning by thy pitch to be defil'd,
or by thy sweet tun'd lullabies beguil'd)
Doe loath to view thy vilde deformitie,
which pleasing is to such as fauour thee.
That euery man be master of his owne
all men allow; but it is lately growne
To such a custome, (first by thee brought in)
among th'Ambitious of this age of sinne,
That to a man (if I professe to loue him)
I must giue titles some degrees aboue him:
Or else be tax'd with enuie or neglect,
though my soule knowes, I giue more true respect
Then you that id'ly light a torch at noone,
and tell the Sun hee's brighter then the Moone;
Which argues only that your humour is,
still to be doing though you do amisse
In guilding golde. This I obserued haue
in some, whose age did homage to the graue,
Whose words in prai'rs more fitly had been spent,
and with deuotion on embassage sent
To make their peace with heauen, then to obay
that which would guide them by the broader way.
If it be hatefull euen in younger yeeres
to temporize and gloze, sure it appeares
Monstrous in age, whose part it rather is
to grieue for what in youth it did amisse;
Then in the last act of a life mis-led,
To heape more blowes vpon a wounded head.
Could I instruct, or might I but aduise;
I'de teach, or wish you to become more wise:
But 'twill be thought preposterous in youth
to tutor Age, though by the Word of Truth
Such proofes as it doth bring approoued be:
Therefore I leaue you to your humour free;
Wherin (no doubt) you'le one day finde this true,
You make your-fav'rers fooles, they knaues of you.
Too mild a stile, for that's a tearme for men;
if so, too good for any flatterer then:
What shall I call thee diuell, monster, beast?
if not all these, thou'rt one of them at least
Transform'd to th'shape of man; nor seemes it strange
if thy grand Master (who himselfe can change
Into an Angels likenesse) make thee seeme,
a Saint-like man in many mens esteeme;
Instructing thee vpon what vaine to worke,
and where thou maiest the most securely lurke
With best assurance, bids thee plie that minde
where thou the weakest easinesse shalt finde:
Such thou maiest puffe as Butchers do their meate,
and with thy breath perswade them they're as great
As thou dost make them; and aboue the rest,
be sure (my child) thou suff'rest not a Iest,
Bee 't nere so poore to passe without a Good,
though by none else the same were vnderstood
How to deserue applause; and then thou hear'st
amongst that Sect (where gracious thou appear'st)
A tedious talker, sencelesly discourse
(till he dull others, and himselfe grow hoarse)
Let thy attention (till his tonguely'th still)
stare in his face, then let him finde thy skill.
These be the rules, and many worse then these
thou must obserue, if thou desir'st to please;
Thy Tutor sayth, whose helpe will nere deceiue thee,
and to whose fauour wretched man I leaue thee.