Oh could his_ Prophetesse _but tell one_ Chance,
_When that the_ Pilgrimes _shall returne from France.
And once more make this Kingdome, as of late,
The_ Island Princesse, _and we celebrate
A_ Double Marriage; _every one to bring
To_ Fletchers _memory his offering.
That thus at last unsequesters the Stage,
Brings backe the Silver, and the Golden Age_.
Robert Gardiner.
To the _Manes_ of the celebrated Poets and Fellow-writers, _Francis
Beaumont_ and _John Fletcher_, upon the Printing of their excellent
Dramatick Poems.
_Disdaine not Gentle Shades, the lowly praise
Which here I tender your immortall Bayes.
Call it not folly, but my zeale, that I
Strive to eternize you that cannot dye.
And though no Language rightly can commend
What you have writ, save what your selves have penn'd;
Yet let me wonder at those curious straines
(The rich Conceptions of your twin-like Braines)
Which drew the Gods attention; who admir'd
To see our English Stage by you inspir'd.
Whose chiming Muses never fail'd to sing
A Soule-affecting Musicke; ravishing
Both Eare and Intellect, while you do each
Contend with other who shall highest reach
In rare Invention; Conflicts that beget
New strange delight, to see two Fancies met,
That could receive no foile: two wits in growth
So just, as had one Soule informed both.
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