The tragedy of Albovine, King of the Lombards | ||
To his friend, Mr. Wm. D'auenant.
Why should the fond ambition of a friend,With such industrious accents striue to lend
A Prologue to thy worth? Can ought of mine
Inrich thy Volume? Th'hast rear'd thy selfe a Shrine
Will out-liue Piramids; Marble Pillars shall,
Ere thy great Muse, receiue a funerall:
Thy wit hath purchas'd such a Patrons name
To deck thy front, as must deriue to Fame
To spend hot teares, t'inrich the Sacrifice.
Ed: Hyde.
The tragedy of Albovine, King of the Lombards | ||