The Himne

Who giuest wit to Whales, to Apes, to Owles:
And kindely speech, to fish, to flesh to fowles.
And spirit to men in soule and body clene:
To mark and knowe what other creatures mean

Which hast giuen grace to Gregory no Pope:
No King, no Lord, whose treasures are their hope
But sily preest, which like a Streamer waues:
In ghostely good, despisde of foolish knaues.

Which hast (I say) giuen grace to him to knowe:
The course of things abooue and heer belowe.
With skil so great in languages and tunges:
As neuer brethde from Mithridates lunges.

To whom the hunter of birds, of mise and rats:
Did speak as plain as Kate that thrumeth hats.
By meane of whome is openly bewrayed:
Such things as closly were bothe doon and said.

To him graunt Lord with helthy welth and rest:
Long life to vnlode to vs his learned brest.
With fame so great to ouerliue his graue:
As none had erst, nor any after haue.

by William Baldwin

Comments (1)

A timeless piece worth slogging through. Stories within the story to illuminate vices, virtues and myth. Lovely lines which ruffle and excite; 'promiscuous grace', 'man diffides in his own augury', 'All are corrupt and all must be destroyed'. An interesting slice of intellectual metamorphosis.