The first day of the worldes creation or Of the first weeke of that most Christian Poet, W. Salvstivs, Lord of Bartas |
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The Translator to the Author.
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 | The first day of the worldes creation |  |
The Translator to the Author.
So
, so, Lord Bartas, should all Arts be spent
In truthes aduauncement, and their Authors glorie:
Blush Christian Poets, to seeme eloquent,
In setting foorth a lewd, and lying storie:
Let Poets learne the sacred truth to write:
And Heathens take the lying Epithite.
In truthes aduauncement, and their Authors glorie:
Blush Christian Poets, to seeme eloquent,
In setting foorth a lewd, and lying storie:
Let Poets learne the sacred truth to write:
And Heathens take the lying Epithite.
There, there, Lord Bartas hath the truth hir grace,
Where God is Phœbus, and his sprite the muse,
Where Poets follow Prophets heauenly trace,
And Parnase mount for Zion do refuse:
Let heathnish parasites that cog and flatter,
Call fained muses, to their forged matter.
Where God is Phœbus, and his sprite the muse,
Where Poets follow Prophets heauenly trace,
And Parnase mount for Zion do refuse:
Let heathnish parasites that cog and flatter,
Call fained muses, to their forged matter.
Then, then, Lord Bartas art and truth accord,
When truth is mistresse, and those arts hir maides,
When subtill quirks, and questions be abhord,
And dimsels follow where their mistresse leades.
Truthes Poets, let them not be vaine disputers:
But take hir Prophets for their onely tutors.
When truth is mistresse, and those arts hir maides,
When subtill quirks, and questions be abhord,
And dimsels follow where their mistresse leades.
Truthes Poets, let them not be vaine disputers:
But take hir Prophets for their onely tutors.
Thus, thus, Lord Bartas hast thou done, and wonn
Arts garland, and truthes heauenly blessing,
She was thy dittie, God did set thy tune,
His sprite did guide thee in that truthes expressing:
Now whiles thy works in Fraunce affoord a sunshine,
Vouchsafe this shadow may be Englands moonshine.
Arts garland, and truthes heauenly blessing,
She was thy dittie, God did set thy tune,
His sprite did guide thee in that truthes expressing:
Now whiles thy works in Fraunce affoord a sunshine,
Vouchsafe this shadow may be Englands moonshine.
| The first day of the worldes creation | |