University of Virginia Library

To the Author on his Comedy, The Antipodes.

Steer'd , by the hand of Fate, ore swelling Seas,
Me thought I landed on th'Antipodes;
Where I was straight a Stranger: For tis thus,
Their feet do tread against the tread of us.
My Scull mistooke: thy Book, being in my hand,
Hurried my Soule to th'Antipodian strand,
Where I did feast my Fancy, and mine Eyes
With such variety of Rarities,
That I perceive thy Muse frequents some shade,
Might be a Grove for a Pierian Maide.
Let Jdeots prate; it boots not what they say.
Th'Antipodes to Wit and Learning may
Have ample Priv'ledge: For among that crew,
I know there's not a man can judge of You.