Though few may be at the pains to read through _Nosce Teipsum_ at a
blow, it is a poem that lends itself admirably to quotation. Towards
the end there is a cluster of fine stanzas('O ignorant poor man,'
etc.) that have found their way into many volumes of selected poetry;
and even the arid tracts are dotted with green oases. Tennyson, with
somewhat wearisome iteration, pleaded through stanza after stanza of
_In Memoriam_ that the longing which most men unquestionably have for
immortality must needs be based on a sure foundation:--
'We think we were not made to die,
And Thou hast made us, Thou art just.'
Davies sums up pithily in a single line:--
'If Death do quench us quite, we have great wrong.'
A poet greater than Davies, greater than Tennyson, the august
Lucretius, in the noble verses that he pondered through the still
nights (seeking to do justice to the doctrine of his Master Epicurus),
scathingly checks our vaulting aspirations. If we have enjoyed the
banquet of life, why should we not rise content and pass to our
dreamless sleep? If our life has been wastefully squandered and is
become a weariness to us, why should we hesitate to make an end of it?
'Aufer abhinc lacrimas, balatro, et compesce querellas!'
_Astræa_, a series of acrostic verses on Queen Elizabeth, is merely
a _tour de force_ of courtly ingenuity. Much more interesting is
Davies' group of graceful little poems, _Twelve Wonders of the World_,
published in the second edition (1608) of Davison's _Poetical Rhapsody_.
In 1603 Davies was appointed Solicitor-General for Ireland, and in
1606 Attorney-General. His letters to Cecil give a valuable and vivid
account of the state of Ireland; and his _Discovery of the True Cause
why Ireland was never entirely subdued_, 1612, is a treatise of the
first importance. Davies' political writings wait the attention of a
competent editor, who would undoubtedly find absorbing interest in his
task.
It was the poet's misfortune to marry a crazy rhapsodical woman
(Eleanor Touchet, sister of the notorious Baron Audley), who annoyed
him by putting herself into mourning and bidding him 'within three
years to expect the mortal blow.' Three days before his death she
'gave him pass to take his long sleep.' He resented these admonitions,
and testily exclaimed, 'I pray you weep not while I am alive, and I
will give you leave to laugh when I am dead.' On 7th December 1626
he dined with Lord Keeper Coventry, and on the following morning was
found dead of apoplexy. It was perhaps fortunate that his life had not
been prolonged, for his views of kingly prerogative were high. He had
supported the king's demand for a forced loan, and (when 'the mortal
blow' really came) was about to succeed Lord Chief Justice Crew, who
had been removed from office for refusing to affirm the legality of
such loans.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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