To The Detracted Poem by John Andrewes

Though Wolues against the siluer Moon do bark,
they blemish not her brightnes, nor the spight
Of bauling Curres, (which she disdains to mark)
can any whit eclipse her of her light.
So mai'st thou slight the railing of ill tongues,
if a cleere shining conscience be thy guard;
Which to defend thee from the worst of wrongs,
will, as a wall of brasse, be found as hard.
Men are by Nature apt to blame, and hate
such as distaste what they approue as good:
If thou dislike to heare a Parrat prate,
and tell a tedious tale of Robin--hood;
He'le shoot Detractions boult against thy braine,
terming it shallow, barren, poore and dull;
Because not vented by a windy vaine,
empt'ing it selfe to make thy mouth shew full.
But wiser men then he assures thee no;

They are most fooles (say they) that vse most words:
That silence argues folly, 'tis not so;
for vertues branches no such fruite affords.
Admit a Turke should call thee Infidell;
wouldst be offended? or imagine, that
One dubbe thee knaue, in whose owne heart doth dwell
basenesse enough, to make him wondred at
By all that know him? shall the first perswade thee,
that thy Religion knowes more Gods then one;

Or to denie the sacred power that made thee,
or t'giue his honour to a carued stone?
Or can the second force thee to confesse
through his report, thou art as base as he?
If none of these thou wilt, their power's the lesse,
thy worth the more by their detracting thee.
An honest fame (like spice) the more 'tis brus'd
sauours the sweeter, which when we are dead
Will be the sweetest seare--cloath can be vs'd
to wrap vs in; it will out--last the lead
Wherein that bodie lies, in which did liue
a spotted conscience, a detracting spirit;
Which to it selfe an earthly heauen did giue,
and of Heauens ioyes it selfe did disinherite.