Poems | ||
To the Authour. ENCOMIASTICON.
'Tis Poetrie thou writ'st, Latines call't Verse,
Because it turnes off Active, smooth and Terse,
Greeks call'em Rithme, and Metre, when in sweet
Numbers, and measure they do fitly meet;
These rise, and bravely flie,
Height'ned by Phantasie,
And make true Poesie,
Which many misse, that trie.
A Poet as thou art, (I may be sworne)
Was not so made, but rather so was borne.
Because it turnes off Active, smooth and Terse,
Greeks call'em Rithme, and Metre, when in sweet
Numbers, and measure they do fitly meet;
These rise, and bravely flie,
Height'ned by Phantasie,
And make true Poesie,
Which many misse, that trie.
A Poet as thou art, (I may be sworne)
Was not so made, but rather so was borne.
And I may say, when I read many a line,
Grac'd with high influence, thou art divine;
The various style endeares it to us more,
Embroyd'red with Conceptions amplest store,
Wits curious Tapestrie,
Hymnes, Past'ralls, Elegies,
Observatives, Divinitie,
Philosophick Scrutinies;
It may be call'd a FLORILEGE for all,
That have not time for studies generall.
Grac'd with high influence, thou art divine;
The various style endeares it to us more,
Embroyd'red with Conceptions amplest store,
Wits curious Tapestrie,
Hymnes, Past'ralls, Elegies,
Observatives, Divinitie,
Philosophick Scrutinies;
It may be call'd a FLORILEGE for all,
That have not time for studies generall.
Philomusus. T. C.
Poems | ||