Desert has here reward in one good line
For all it lost, for all it might repine:
Vile and ignobler things are open laid,
The truth of their false colours are displayed:
You'l say the Poet's both best Judge and Priest,
No guilty soule abides so sharp a test
As their smooth Pen; for what these rare men writ
Commands the World, both Honesty and Wit_.
GRANDISON.
IN MEMORY OF Mr. JOHN FLETCHER.
_Me thought our_ Fletcher _weary of this croud,
Wherein so few have witt, yet all are loud,
Unto Elyzium fled, where he alone
Might his own witt admire and ours bemoane;
But soone upon those Flowry Bankes, a throng
Worthy of those even numbers which he sung,
Appeared, and though those Ancient Laureates strive
When dead themselves, whose raptures should survive,
For his Temples all their owne bayes allowes,
Not sham'd to see him crown'd with naked browes_;
Homer _his beautifull_ Achilles _nam'd,
Urging his braine with_ Joves _might well be fam'd,
Since it brought forth one full of beauties charmes,
As was his Pallas, and as bold in Armes; [-King and no King.-]
But when he the brave_ Arbases _saw, one
That saved his peoples dangers by his own,
And saw_ Tigranes _by his hand undon
Without the helpe of any_ Mirmydon,
_He then confess'd when next hee'd Hector slay,
That he must borrow him from Fletchers Play;
This might have beene the shame, for which he bid
His_ Iliades _in a Nut-shell should be hid_:
Virgill _of his_ AEneas _next begun,
Whose God-like forme and tongue so soone had wonne;
That Queene of_ Carthage _and of beauty too,
Two powers the whole world else were slaves unto,
Urging that Prince for to repaire his faulte
On earth, boldly in hell his Mistresse sought; [-The Maides Tragedy.
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