Brave Porter! poets ne'er will wanting be;
Fabius and Cotta, Lentulus all live
In thee, thou man of men! who here dost give
Not only subject-matter for our wit
But likewise oil of maintenance for it.'
And again this quatrain, which calls up an amusing picture:
'When to thy porch I come and ravish'd see
The state of poets there attending thee,
Those bards and I all in a chorus sing
We are thy prophets, Porter, thou our King.'