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Pleasant dialogues and dramma's

selected out of Lucian, Erasmus, Textor, Ovid, &c. ... By Tho. Heywood

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Upon a Booke late published by one Bird a Coachman, calld Byrds businesse.
  
  

Upon a Booke late published by one Bird a Coachman, calld Byrds businesse.

Reader, who ere thou beest; approach man,
And heare the Iornall of a Coachman,
(In which he is not too prolix)
Who with two Horses, foure, or six,
If let him have a good Postillion,
Shall drive with any for a Million.
We read in Stories long agon,
That there was one Automedon,
Great Hectors Charioter, Another
Who of the same trade was a brother
Whom Archeptolemus men name,
And hee, Achilles steeds did tame.
These could their Horses turne, and wind,
And check, and curb them to their mind,
Wheeling with many a strange Meander,
In the most famous field Scamander.
I wonder Homer was so rash
To praise those expert in the lash,
But he was ignorant and blind,
Who knew not Byrd should come behind.
Who had he liv'd then; might King Rhemnon
Have served, or great Agamemnon,
And taught their Palphreyes how to draw,
But they alas to him were raw.
I must confesse they had the braines,
In the day time to guide the raines,
And in plaine ground to use the whip,
And one another to outstrip.

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But this our Bird, although no Owle,
His Horse is able to controule,
And them to governe I dare say,
(And guide) as well by night as day,
As in his travels may appeare,
Which largely are discoursed there.
And though I know not how, or when,
Yet all describ'd by his owne pen.
In which to exceed so much he strives
That whether he better writes or drives
May well be questioned; Reader judge,
Pay for thy Booke, and doe not grudge.
And now if any question make
In this worke he did undertake,
Why he in number or in rime,
Should so much faile? observe the time
And place withall, where these were writ.
And he no doubt will both remit.
Neither doth it the Author, wrong,
To make one verse short, the other long,
As you may find oft in his booke,
He suites them to the way he tooke.
If any line against his will
Goe lagging on: he drove up-hill.
Againe: If any passe it's length,
Downe hill he ran, and had not strength,
Though take unto him all his force,
Either to stop it, or his horse.
I will appeale to all who use
The trade, and they will that excuse.
When he was driving in even way,
The verse runs smooth (perceive you may)
But being rough, then thinke he feeles
Some deepe foule slough to clogge his wheeles.
Here in his praise my sayle I strike,
Let any Coachman doe the like.