 | The Vnfortunate Mother |  |
To the Author on his Unfortunate MOTHER.
I doe not wonder that great Iohnsons PlayWas scorn'd so by the ignorant, that day
It did appeare in its most glorious shine;
And comely action grac'd each learned line.
Their reach, their envy; their applause or love:
When as the wiser few did it admire,
And warm'd their fancies at his genuine sire.
But I commend the wisedome of thy Fate,
To sell thy labours at a better rate,
Then the contempt of the most squeamish age;
Or the exactest Roscij of the Stage:
Which might provoke our Laureat to repine,
That thine should rivall his brave Albovine.
Thy Muse in this birth doth unhappy prove,
In that it is abortive. Let thy love
Appeare to us in getting such another,
That she may boast her selfe a happy Mother.
C. G.
| The Vnfortunate Mother | |