 | The Works of Michael Drayton |  |
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[O, why should Nature niggardly restraine!]
O, why should Nature niggardly restraine!That Foraine Nations rellish not our Tongue,
Else should my Lines glide on the Waves of Rhene,
And crowne the Piren's with my living Song:
But bounded thus, to Scotland get you forth,
Thence take you Wing unto the Orcades,
There let my Verse get glory in the North,
Making my Sighes to thaw the Frozen Seas;
And let the Bards within that Irish Ile,
To whom my Muse with fierie Wings shall passe,
Call backe the stiffe-neck'd Rebels from Exile,
And mollifie the slaught'ring Galliglasse;
And when my flowing Numbers they rehearse,
Let Wolves and Beares be charmed with my Verse.
| The Works of Michael Drayton | |