To his loving friend the Author.
To laud thy muse, or thee to crown with praise,
Is but to light my tapers to the rays
Of gold-locked Phœbus: since the scheme
Of fabled truth, thy waking seeming dream,
Thy ever-living-loving fame in arts—
Of arts, to us in whole and part imparts.
In arts, thy judgement, phrase, invention,
Of arts, thy poet's vindication.
In mourning elegies I admired thy skill,
10In mirthful lays we now admire thy quill.
Let Albine, Bellame, by thee live in fame;
Riv'lezzo, Beldame Pazza, live in shame.
Lash on and slash the vice of shavèd crowns
In thy Bardino, nuns, and sylvan clowns.
Give virtue beauty, beauty desert and praise,
And that thy monument of brass shall raise.
To his Loving Friend.] This anonymous commendator has dropped (hardly by intention) a foot in his third line.