Ayres and dialogues For One, Two, and Three Voyces. By Henry Lawes ... The First Booke |
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To my Dear and Honour'd Friend, Mr. HENRY LAWES, upon his
Incomparable Book of Songs.
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To my Dear and Honour'd Friend, Mr. HENRY LAWES, upon his Incomparable Book of Songs.
I am no Poet, yet I wiil rehearseMy Virgin Muse, though in unpolisht Verse.
Perhaps the immature and lib'rall sence,
(Yet better than those Ignorants commence,
Who boldly dare their scandalous censures throw,
And judge of things (I'le swear) they do not know)
Will be to some unpleasing; but what then?
Must they not know their wild pretensions, when
Unnat'rally they'l raise a Forrain Name,
And blast the Honour of their Native Fame?
But stay; Will this reclaim them? No, th'are mad;
Their Reason is infatuate, and clad
In such a stupified ignorance:
Nothing will please that is not come from France
Or Italy; but let them have their will,
Whilst we unto thy Noble Art and Skill
Do sacrifice our admirations:
The tribute's just, and other Nations
Cannot but pay it too, when they shall see
Their best of Labours thus outdone by Thee:
Or else amaz'd to see thy English Ayre
Past imitation; they will dispaire,
And wonder we can surfeit with such meat,
So rare, so rich, so pleasant, so compleat.
Be happy then; Thou art above all hate;
Thy great abil'ties have out-grown thy Fate.
Thy Fortune soars aloft; thou art renown'd:
Thy Fame's with Judgements approbation crown'd.
And in this Verse, (as I disclaim all Wit)
So 'twas thy worth, oblig'd my fancy t'it.
JO. CARWARDEN
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