University of Virginia Library


112

THE TRANSLATORS INVOCATION.

O thou that mightlie does toone
My warbling holie Harpe,
And does sublime my Poëmes als
That I thereon do carpe,
And marying so my heauenly verse
Vnto the Harpes accords,
Inspires my sacred Muse to sing
Vnto the Lord of Lords.
O now inflame my furious Spreit,
That furiously I may
These Furies (mankinds plagues allace!)
With furious Pen display:
That I his fame doe not betray,
Who Azure Skie doth decke
With blazing lights, and on the earth
His Trophees doth erect:
The loue of heauen, the honour of earth,
The wonder of our age,
Who whill that furious bloodie MARS
Doth in his Countrey rage
(Alluring ORPHEVS) with his songs
He sweetlie doth inchaunt
The MVSES nyne to leaue their leeds
That they before did haunt
And take them to his vulgare toung,
Their Ethnique heades withall
He crownes with holie twists and faire
Of LIBAN Cedres tall.
Then ô thou guider of my Spreit,
And leader of my pen,
Graunt, that as he his subjects faire
Doth (liberal) to me len,

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That so he len his loftie stile,
His golden draughts, his grace,
Wherewith in variant coulors he
Adornes the papers face,
That I may viuelie paint him forth:
Peace PAN, peace pratling Muse,
Heare PHOEBVS in a borrowed tongue
His owne discourses vse.