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New Epigrams, and a Satyre

Written by Ios: Martyn
  

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29. Painters and Poets.
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29. Painters and Poets.

Betwixt these two there lately grew dissention,
Whether of twaine, excel'd in his Inuention.
The Painter, sets a good face on the matter,
Though not so true, but it might seeme to flatter,
And yet protests, against it, and disgrace,
Saying what he doth is before their face.
The Poet, (in a harsh Satyricke vaine)
Tels him he dawbes; his own the purest straine;
Yet yeelds to reason, and (by meerest fortune,
Meeting with me, my iudgement did importune,
My answer was; that Painters were confin'd
Onely to mortall shape, and there resign'd
But Poets were the Oracles of Fame,
Who long since dead, had liuing still a name,
To them I therefore did the conquest yeeld,
Who did remaine the longest in the Field:


Yet (gentle Reader) I refer't to thee,
Whether of twaine shall haue priority.