The Second Day of the First Weeke of the most excellent, learned, and diuine Poet, William, Lord Bartas. Done out of French into English Heroicall verse by Thomas Winter |
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Iohn Dauies of Hereford in praise of the Author, and Translator.
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 | The Second Day of the First Weeke |  |
Iohn Dauies of Hereford in praise of the Author, and Translator.
Winter , a man would thinke thy works are cold,That did but heare thy name, or know thy kind,
But yet such heate this worke of thine doth hold,
As in a Sommers day we scarce shall find
Among our hote-brain'd Poets. Thou hast hit
Vpon that heate (though with another fire)
That did enflame the rarest Poets wit,
That ere in France (worlds garden) did respire.
Bartas, the bosome of whose blessed Muse
With Homers sacred fire (refin'd) did burne:
Did (as should seeme) into thy breast infuse
That fire by touching him; for thou dost turne
His heate to thine, and thine to his, if so
Both in this Tract translated thou dost show.
| The Second Day of the First Weeke | |