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Nor that slow Drudge in swift Pindarick Strains,
Flatman, who Cowley imitates with Pains,
And rides a jaded Muse, whipt, with loose Reins.
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Of all our modern Wits, none seem to me
Once to have touch’d upon true Comedy,
But hasty Shadwell, and slow Wycherley.
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Waller, by Nature for the Bays design’d,
With Force, and Fire, and Fancy, unconfin’d,
In Panegyrick do’s excel Mankind: