The Heroycall Epistles of the Learned Poet Publius Ouidius Naso, In Englishe Verse ::

The Ploughman hopes in recompence of toyle,
And winters trauaile past, to reape the graine
That he (goodman) hath sowen on his soyle.
Wyth great encrease of crop and goodly gaine:
And reason good why so he should in deede,
For he thereon long earst bestowde his seede.

The fearefull Fisherman that castes his Nette
In hauen mouth, and layes his bayted hookes,
Doth trust at length by happie hap to get
Such store of fishe as may suffice the Cookes,
And Caters eke, and bring him in the mucke
That ventred life in hope of happie lucke.

If Ploughman then and Fisher gape for gaynes,
And hope assuredly to haue the same,
To quite there troublous toyles, and dayly paynes
Endurde ere they could bring their feates to frame:
Why should not such as climbe the craggie Mount
Where Muses wonne, of earned hyre account?

And looke for laude at least at learned handes,
That knowe the cares of vndertaken woorkes,
And wote full well how hie Pernasus standes
With stately steppes, where Poetes Lawrell lurkes:
A haughtie hill that euerie wight must clime
Ere he attaine with Poets pen to rime.

For though the thing but slender be in sight,
And vaine to vewe of curious carping skull,

In mother tongue a forraine speach to write:
Yet he shall finde he hath a Crow to pull,
That vndertakes with well agreeing File
Of English verse, to rub the Romaine stile.

Deuises of the language diuers are,
Well couched wordes, and feately forged phrase,
Eche string in tune, no ragged ryme doth iarre,
With figures fraught their bookes in euery place:
So that it is a worke of prayse to cause
A Romaine borne to speake with English iawes.

Which laude I leaue, and prayse to paynefull men
That haue with nightly sweate of busie browe
Set out their workes of fame with forwarde pen:
For this my Muse I would accoumpt ynowe
To scape the spitefull Zoyles chiding chaps,
That (like a Curre) eche willing writer snaps.

So I might go vntoucht of Momus traine,
And neuer feele the force of enuious Hate,
Sufficed me, well quitted were my payne,
I might be thought a man of luckie fate.
But, oh, it can not be, the best of all
(That Homer hight) to nipping nayles was thrall.

But let those Snakes, and beastly Uipers broode
(I meane the spitefull Spider, Momus mate)
When they haue done, recoumpt their gotten good,
They gaine ywis but scorne and lothsome hate:
Wherefore departe the racke thou Curre (I say)
And let the lustie Courser champe the hay.

If thou thy selfe for lumpish idle life
No leysure hast to take in hande the like.

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But kepste thy Couch: put vp that cankred knife
Wherewith thou wonted art the good to strike:
Let other presse in place to purchase fame,
For vertues sake that woorke to winne a name.

Discerne their deedes, when all their toyle is donne,
Say thou thy worst, when they haue done their best:
Condemne them not or ere thou hast begonne
To vewe their workes, but ouerreade the rest:
That done, let eche sustaine his earned meede,
This were the way to purchase loue in deede.

University of Virginia Library

The Translator to the captious sort of Sycophants.