 | Hippolitus |  |
To my Noble Friend Mr Edmund Prestwich, upon his Elegant POEMS.
Sir , You have gently cur'd my fears, and ICongratulate Emergent Poesie,
And you her Tutelar Angel, who have made
Her live, and by your wit secur'd her shade
By you, (his better Seneca) reviv'd
Hippolitus is now grown longer liv'd;
And Seneca himself that could not dye,
Hath gain'd another Immortality
Yet here, you but translated; when you chuse
An amarous Tract, and speake your own free Muse
My admiration over-reads my Eye,
And I am last in the full Harmony.
Ja: Shirley.
| Hippolitus | |