The Golden Aphroditis A pleasant discourse, penned by John Grange ... Whereunto be annexed by the same Authour asvvell certayne Metres upon sundry poyntes, as also divers Pamphlets in prose, which he entituleth His Garden: pleasant to the eare, and delightful to the Reader, if he abuse not the scente of the floures |
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N. O In his owne defence.
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 | The Golden Aphroditis |  |
N. O In his owne defence.
Shal Zoilus he, or Momus mates imbash my penne to write?
Or shal the want of Homers quill, or Virgils vayne to endyte,
I new diffused Chaos make of these my pestred wittes?
Not so, though Tritons trumpet shrill on fynned fish that sittes,
Hath blased vnto your tentiue eares, what honor might defame,
Sith I vnguiltie am thereof, I wil not seeke the same
Texcuse, for why? I know that tyme ech thing wil bring to light:
And truth it selfe wil come in place gainst falshoodes force to fight.
By phrase of filed style you seeme a verdict rash to giue
Of prisoner yours to dye, but yet it grauntes my state to liue.
By rolling stone, and ranging hounde vnconstant me to be,
Your painting penne by art declares: yet shal you neuer see,
Nor know my senses, for to know the breath of any wight
Saue thou alone, as Biblia, who when Duellus hight
Him selfe to haue a stinking breath by open parlance mayde
Of Roman dames vnto his face: I haue not knowen (she sayde,)
But all mens breath haue bene alike, such was the vestal line
Of that hir chosen path, as wel the stories doe define.
Wherefore in suspence now let hang, the iudgemente of my dome,
Tyl truth through time for falshodes corps hath finisht vp a tome.
Or shal the want of Homers quill, or Virgils vayne to endyte,
I new diffused Chaos make of these my pestred wittes?
Not so, though Tritons trumpet shrill on fynned fish that sittes,
Hath blased vnto your tentiue eares, what honor might defame,
Sith I vnguiltie am thereof, I wil not seeke the same
Texcuse, for why? I know that tyme ech thing wil bring to light:
And truth it selfe wil come in place gainst falshoodes force to fight.
By phrase of filed style you seeme a verdict rash to giue
Of prisoner yours to dye, but yet it grauntes my state to liue.
By rolling stone, and ranging hounde vnconstant me to be,
Your painting penne by art declares: yet shal you neuer see,
Nor know my senses, for to know the breath of any wight
Saue thou alone, as Biblia, who when Duellus hight
Him selfe to haue a stinking breath by open parlance mayde
Of Roman dames vnto his face: I haue not knowen (she sayde,)
Of that hir chosen path, as wel the stories doe define.
Wherefore in suspence now let hang, the iudgemente of my dome,
Tyl truth through time for falshodes corps hath finisht vp a tome.
Thus fare thou wel my iemme of ioy
Let not our absence breede anoy.
Let not our absence breede anoy.
| The Golden Aphroditis | |