Nor that slow Drudge in swift Pindarick Strains,
Flatman, who Cowley imitates with Pains,
And rides a jaded Muse, whipt, with loose Reins.

Of all our modern Wits, none seem to me
Once to have touch’d upon true Comedy,
But hasty Shadwell, and slow Wycherley.

Waller, by Nature for the Bays design’d,
With Force, and Fire, and Fancy, unconfin’d,
In Panegyrick do’s excel Mankind: