 | The wonder of A Kingdome |  |
The Prologue.
Thus
from the Poet, I am bid to say;
Hee knows what Iudges sit to Doome each Play,
(The Over-curious Critick, or the Wise)
The one with squint; 'Tother with Sunn-like eyes,
Shootes through each scæne; The one cries all things down
Tother, hides strangers Faults, close as his Owne:
Hee knows what Iudges sit to Doome each Play,
(The Over-curious Critick, or the Wise)
The one with squint; 'Tother with Sunn-like eyes,
Shootes through each scæne; The one cries all things down
Tother, hides strangers Faults, close as his Owne:
Las! Those that out of custome come to jeere,
(Sung the full quire of the Nine Muses heere)
So Carping,—not from Wit, but Apish spite,
And Fether'd Ignorance,—Thus! ô Poet does slight.
(Sung the full quire of the Nine Muses heere)
So Carping,—not from Wit, but Apish spite,
And Fether'd Ignorance,—Thus! ô Poet does slight.
'Tis not a gay sute, or Distorted Face,
Can beate his Merit off,—Which has won Grace
In the full Theater;—Nor can now feare
The Teeth of any Snaky whisperer;
But to the white, and sweete unclowded Brow,
(The heaven where true worth moves) our Poet do's bow:
Can beate his Merit off,—Which has won Grace
In the full Theater;—Nor can now feare
The Teeth of any Snaky whisperer;
But to the white, and sweete unclowded Brow,
(The heaven where true worth moves) our Poet do's bow:
Patrons of Arts, and Pilots to the Stage,
Who guide it (through all Tempests) from the Rage
Of envious Whirlewindes,—ô, doe you but steere
His Muse, This day; And bring her toth' wished shore,
You are those Delphick Powers whom shee'le adore.
Who guide it (through all Tempests) from the Rage
Of envious Whirlewindes,—ô, doe you but steere
His Muse, This day; And bring her toth' wished shore,
You are those Delphick Powers whom shee'le adore.
| The wonder of A Kingdome | |