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Aurelian Townshend's Poem and Masks

Edited by E. K. Chambers

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 XIX. 
XIX. Mr. Townsends Verses to Ben Johnsons, in answer to an Abusive Copie, crying down his Magnetick Lady.
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
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49

XIX. Mr. Townsends Verses to Ben Johnsons, in answer to an Abusive Copie, crying down his Magnetick Lady.
[_]

The attribution of this poem is questionable.

It cannot move thy friend (firm Ben) that he
Whom the Star-Chamber censur'd, rimes at thee.
I gratulate the method of thy fate,
That joyn'd thee next in malice to the State.
So Nero, after paricidall guilt,
Brooks no delay till Lucan's blood be spilt;
Nor could his malice find a second crime,
Unlesse he slew the Poet of the time.
But (thanks to Hellicon) here are no blowes;
This Drone no more of sting then honey shewes.
His verses shall be counted Censure, when
Cast Malefactors are made Jury-men.
Mean while rejoyce, that so disgrac't a quill
'Tempted to wound that worth, time cannot kill.
And thou that darest to blast Fame fully blown,
Lye buried in the ruines of thy owne.
Vexe not thine ashes, open not the deep,
The Ghosts of thy slaine name had rather sleep.