 | The Workes of Benjamin Jonson |  |
An Epigram. To, William, Earle of Newcastle.
When first my Lord, I saw you backe your horse,Provoke his mettall, and command his force
To all the uses of the field, and race,
Me thought I read the ancient Art of Thrace,
And saw a Centaure, past those tales of Greece,
So seem'd your horse; and you both of a peece!
You shew'd like Perseus upon Pegasus;
Or Castor mounted on his Cyllarus:
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Of bold Sir Bevis, and his Arundell:
Nay, so your Seate his beauties did endorse,
As I began to wish my selfe a horse:
And surely had I but your Stable seene
Before: I thinke my wish absolv'd had beene.
For never saw I yet the Muses dwell,
Nor any of their houshold halfe so well.
So well! as when I saw the floore, and Roome
I look'd for Hercules to be the Groome:
And cri'd, away, with the Cæsarian bread,
At these Immortall Mangers Virgil fed.
| The Workes of Benjamin Jonson | |