HEWarmth your Beans produc'd, you must excuse;
Your Commendation first inspir’d my Muse :
Your friendly Praise supports her feeble Wing :
You both invite, and teach her how to fing.
And while by Art your charming Numbers move,
Her Wood-wild Notes instruct her to improve.
Censure, in this Attempt, can only say,
That I my Debt of Thanks too poorly pay;
That from your Bounty I my Tribute raise,
And but return the Product of your Praise.
Tet Mortals thus to Sacred Altars go,
With Presents which the Gods did first bestow.
We treat them from the Stores which they dispense,
Not to Requite, but now our grateful Sense.
To-fing your Toils, let abler Bards aspire,
While I at distance silently admire
How much oblig'd your Country is to yoll,
If Wit, and Learning, here, those Charms renew,
That Art's Admirer once to Athens drew.
If thither Conqu’ring Rome for Knowledge Sought,
What Miracles have you for Britain wrought !
Who Athens home to us, at your own Charge have brought
Afpiring Lewis's self muft yield to you,
In that sole Praise which he can call bis Due,
Transated Learning France too dearly buy's,
Which cheaply your Compendious Book supplies.
This Diff'rence too, your Preference secures,
His Aim was Glory, Publick Good was Yours.
For while you move the various Orbs of Wit,
Conceald the great Intelligences fito