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140
The RICH PURCHASE.
1673.
To the honourable Mrs. Chaworth, commanding two of my Tragedies.
The
Town's applause is but a dream;
You are my Theater, and Theme.
'Tis you that kindle Fancies fire;
Whose every smile does Wit inspire.
The Muses, nay the Graces too,
Were only dusky Types of you.
More influence does in one Eye
Of yours, than whole Apollo lye.
And you must merit most esteem;
Who make those Poets, that make him.
That Wit we labour for with pain,
More happy you by Nature gain.
And Virtue which from Rules we own,
Is, Madam, your Complexion.
Our bliss you only must create;
If we can faintly imitate.
But that will be as hardly done,
As for small Lamps t'out-shine the Sun.
Yet Heav'n will those Devoto's fit
For glory, that but aim at it:
Thus I may gain by giving praise;
And off'ring Lawrels, purchase Bays.
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