And yet in it there can be no antipodes, For none hereafter will go contrary to you. VII. Poets till now deferv'd excufe, not praife, He was a poet that could fpeak leaft truth : Which once was thought the greatest fame. Though contrary in this they to their mafter run, When he doth fhew his miftrefs, the white moon, He makes her fpots, as well as beauty, to be fhewn. Till now the fifters were too old, and therefore grew Extremely fabulous too: Till you, Sir, came, they were defpis'd; They were all heathens yet, Nor ever into the church could get; And though they had a font fo long, yet never were baptis'd. VIII. You, Sir, have rais'd the price of wit, By bringing in more store of it : Reign, without diffembling too. You've fhewn a poet must not needs be bad That one may be Apollo's priest, ; And be fill'd with his oracles, without being mad Till now, wit was a curfe (as to Lot's wife 'Twas to be turn'd to falt) Because it made men lead a life, Which was nought else but one continual fault. IX. Your Mifcellanies do appear All heavens and ftars inclofed were, Were in perpetual conjunction: Whilft all the stars were but one milky way, And in natural embraces lay. Whilst yet none of the lamps of heaven might Which chemistry may separate, but not refine: X. Thy Mistress shews, that Cupid is not always blind, Where we a pure exalted Mufe do find, Such as may well become a glorified mind. Such fongs tune angels when they love, And do make courtship to fome fifter-mind above (For angels need not fcorn fuch foft defires, Seeing thy heart is touch'd with the same fires). So when they clothe themselves in flesh, And their light in some human shapes do dress (For which they fetch'd stuff from the neighbouring air): So when they stoop, to like fome mortal fair, Such words, fuch odes as thine they use, With fuch foft ftrains, love into her heart infufe. Thy love is on the top, if not above mortality; Clean, and from corruption free, Such as affections in eternity fhall be ; Which fhall remain unspotted there, Thy Venus has the falt, but not the froth o' th' fea. Thy high Pindarics foar So high, where never any wing till now could get; And And yet thy wit Doth feem fo great, as thofe that do fly lower. And therefore thou a higher flight dost take: Thou haft brought him from the duft, And made him live again. Pindar has left his barbarous Greece, and thinks it just To be led by thee to the English shore; An honour to him: Alexander did no more, Nor fcarce fo much, when he did fave his houfe before, When his word did affuage A warlike army's violent rage: Thou haft given to his name, Than that great conqueror fav'd him from, a brighter flame. He only left fome walls where Pindar's name might stay, Which with time and age decay : But thou haft made him once again to live; Thou didst to him new life and breathing give. Thou haft made him rife more glorious, and put on Than ever he in happy Thebes or Greece could fhew. XII. Thy David too-- But hold thy headlong pace, my Mufe ; None but the priest himself doth use Check Whilst yet none of the lamps of heaven might Which chemistry may separate, but not refine : X. Thy Mistress shews, that Cupid is not always blind, Where we a pure exalted Mufe do find, Such as may well become a glorified mind. Such fongs tune angels when they love, And do make courtship to some sister-mind above (For angels need not fcorn fuch foft defires, Seeing thy heart is touch'd with the fame fires). So when they clothe themselves in flesh, And their light in fome human shapes do drefs (For which they fetch'd ftuff from the neighbouring air): So when they stoop, to like fome mortal fair, Such words, fuch odes as thine they use, With fuch soft strains, love into her heart infufe. Thy love is on the top, if not above mortality; Clean, and from corruption free, Such as affections in eternity fhall be ; Which shall remain unspotted there, Only to fhew what once they were: Thy Venus has the falt, but not the froth o' th' fea. Thy high Pindarics foar So high, where never any wing till now could get ; And |