 | Hugo Grotius His Sophompaneas, or Ioseph |  |
To his honoured Friend, Francis Goldsmith, Esq; Upon his Translation of, &c.
Friend, did my fame and Muse shine forth as brightAs the renowned Ben's, then would that light
Like th'hour telling Sun, the Rectifier
Of Clocks and Watches, shine to the whole quire
Of common censu'rers, who would each correct
His peccant humor by my Dialect.
And their fond fancies pinning on my slieve,
Without examination would believe:
But since my humble Muse could never soar
Parnassus height, nor is so popular
To make all vote with me, let thy own worth,
Thy well couch'd Phrase, neat lines, not tumbled forth
By a Pye-corner Muse or wild sick braine,
But the most noble issue of thy veine
Speaks its own praise only, let these have grace,
To stick like patches on a beauteous face.
Tho: Berney.
| Hugo Grotius His Sophompaneas, or Ioseph | |