Nor art Thou Loud and Cloudy; those that do
Thunder so much, do't without Lightning too;
Tearing themselves, and almost split their braine
To render harsh what thou speak'st free and cleane;
Such gloomy Sense may pass for_ High _and_ Proud,
_But true-born Wit still flies_ above _the_ Cloud;
_Thou knewst 'twas_ Impotence _what they call_ Height;
_Who blusters strong i'th Darke, but_ creeps _i'th Light.
And as thy thoughts were_ cleare, _so_, Innocent;
_Thy Phancy gave no unswept Language vent;
Slaunderst not_ Lawes, _prophan'st no_ holy Page,
(_As if thy Fathers_ Crosier _aw'd the Stage_;)
_High Crimes were still arraign'd, though they made shift
To prosper out_ foure Acts, _were plagu'd i'th_ Fift:
_All's safe, and wise; no stiffe-affected Scene,
Nor_ swoln, _nor_ flat, _a True Full Naturall veyne;
Thy Sence (like well-drest Ladies) cloath'd as skinn'd,
Not all unlac'd, nor City-startcht and pinn'd.
Thou hadst no Sloath, no Rage, no sullen Fit,
But_ Strength _and_ Mirth, FLETCHER'S _a_ Sanguin _Wit_.
_Thus, two great_ Consul-_Poets all things swayd,
Till all was_ English _Borne or_ English _Made:_
Miter _and_ Coyfe _here into One Piece spun_,
BEAUMONT _a_ Judge's, _This a_ Prelat's _sonne.
What Strange Production is at last displaid,
(Got by Two Fathers, without Female aide)
Behold, two_ Masculines _espous'd each other_,
Wit _and the World were born without a_ Mother.
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