 | The Royall Master |  |
To my Ingenious Friend, James Shirley, upon his Royall Master.
As a rich gemme exchac'd in gold affordsMore radiant lustre to the gazers eye
Inprison'd so, within it selfe it hoords
Vp all the beamy treasures of the skie,
Beames loose reflex on bodies diaphane
But cast on solids they rebound againe,
So would thy lines my Friend in paper pent
Contract the whole applauses of the age;
But should they a neglected ornament
Be soly made the study of the Stage,
They might like water in the Sunshine set
Retaine his image, not impart his heate.
Then Print thy Poem Shirley, 'twere a fault
To dungion this instructive peece of thine,
Had the Sunnes Spheare beene made a thicke rib'd vault,
We had receiv'd no influence from his shine:
Thou shouldst die traitour to succeeding times,
And thy best vertues prove but splendid crimes.
Iames Mervyn.
| The Royall Master | |