The Lady-Errant A Tragi-Comedy |
TO The Memory of my most deserving
and peculiar Friend Mr Wil. Cartvvright.
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The Lady-Errant | ||
TO The Memory of my most deserving and peculiar Friend Mr Wil. Cartvvright.
Amidst
their very Tears they'l smile to see
Me boldly venture at an Elegie
On Thee (sweet Friend) a Subject fit for none
But those that have drunk deep at Helicon:
For how should I thy high-built Fame rehearse
Who hardly can distinguish Prose from Verse?
'Tis a sad Truth —
Me boldly venture at an Elegie
On Thee (sweet Friend) a Subject fit for none
But those that have drunk deep at Helicon:
For how should I thy high-built Fame rehearse
Who hardly can distinguish Prose from Verse?
'Tis a sad Truth —
Yet here I must come in; my Interest
Will claime as large a Sorrow as the Best:
For though my Grief wants Art and Words, yet I
Can Think aloud to thy dear Memory;
And may (while others Write) to after Times
Sing thy own lasting Praise in thy own Rimes.
Will claime as large a Sorrow as the Best:
For though my Grief wants Art and Words, yet I
Can Think aloud to thy dear Memory;
And may (while others Write) to after Times
Sing thy own lasting Praise in thy own Rimes.
Hen. Lavves.
The Lady-Errant | ||