To my much honored Cozen Mr. Stanley, Upon his Poems set by Mr. JOHN GAMBLE.
I
Enough, Enough, of Orbs and Spheres,
Reach me a Trumpet or a Drum,
To sound sharp Synnets in your Ears,
And Beat a Deep Encomium.
II
I know not th'Eight Intelligence;
Those that do understand it, Pray
Let them step thither, and from thence
Speak what they all do Sing or Say:
III
Nor what your Diapasons are,
Your Sympathies and Symphonies;
To me they seem as distant farre
As whence they take their Infant rise.
IV
But I've a grateful Heart can ring
A peale of Ordnance to your praise,
And Volleys of small Plaudits bring
To Clowd a Crown about your Baies.
V
Though Lawrel is thought Thunder-free,
That Storms and Lightning Disallows,
Yet Cæsar thorough Fire and Sea
Snatcht her to twist his Conquering Brows.
VI
And now me thinks like him you stand
I'th' head of all the Poets Hoast,
Whilest with your Words you do Command,
They silent do their Duty Boast.
VII
Which done, the Army Ecchoes o're
Like Gamble Ios One and all,
And in their various Notes implore
Long live our noble Generall.
B[illeg.] P[illeg.]st[illeg.]
