University of Virginia Library



To my Friend M. D'avenant, on his legitimate Poeme.

Even so the silly Midas iudg'd of old
'Twixt Pan and great Apollo. As this bold
Herd, of his race, that th'untun'd Pipe admire,
And heare thy straynes, as the dull Asse the Lyre.
What wonder then, if thou the lawfull Son
Of Phæbus, taste what was to him begun.
Hence, giddy fooles; run to the noyse they make
At Paris-garden; or your selues betake
To the new Motion, the fine Puppet playes,
And there adore. Commend the learned layes
That make a din about the streets, or els
Extoll the Iewes-trumpe, or the morris bells.
These, your great heads may manage. Only let
The wiser few, (whose blessed eares haue met
The harmony that all the Muses make,
And from those heauenly sounds assurance take,
That thou sing'st the same tunes) admitted be
To thy Seraphyck musicke, and set free
To entertayne their soules in that high quire,
Which, not weake fooles, but such as know, admire.
Will. Hopkins.