Poetical recreations consisting of original poems, songs, odes, &c. with several new translations : in two parts
To my Honoured Friend, Mr. E. S—.
OH had I any Charms of equal Powers,
To lay those spirits which are rais'd by yours;
I would employ them all, rather than now
Suffer my babbling Rhimes to trouble you:
But ah! alas my Spells are all too weak,
To keep a silence which you urge to break;
Though I remember justly where and when
I promis'd ne'er to trouble you agen;
And when I spoke, I meant my words for true,
But those Resolves were cancell'd at review
Of your obliging Lines, which made me know
Silence to be the greater fault o'th' too:
Page 41For where Perfection do's in triumph sit,
'Tis rude to praise, but sinfull to omit.
I often read your Lines, and oft admire,
How Eloquence and Fancy do conspire,
With Wit and Iudgment to make up a Quire,
And grace the Musick of Apollo's Lire.
But that which makes the Musick truly sweet,
Virtue and Innocence in Chorus meet:
So smooth, so gentle all your Writings are,
If I with other Authors them compare,
Methinks their Modish Wit to me do's shew,
But as an Engyscope to view yours through:
Nor do your Writ•ngs only smoothly glide,
Whilst your whole life's like some impetuous tide;
But both together keep a gentle pace,
And each other do each other grace.
There's very few like you that do possess
The Stoicks strictness, Poets gentleness.
I much admire your Worth, but more my Fate,
That worthless I thereof participate;
Ev'n so the Sun disdains not to dispence
On meanest Insects his bright influence;
But gives them animation by his Rays,
Which they requite, like me, with worthless praise;
Page 42Which now I'm sure's grown troublesome to you,
But you must bear that fate which others do:
For those that needs will taste of Parents joys,
Must too indure the plague of Cradle-noise.