Nor were the French, however more polite they may be thought, than we are said to be, more scrupulous in avoiding them, if these Verses are upon his Monument;
En toy qui es fitz de Dieu le Pere,
Sauue soit, qui gist sours cest pierre.
This will be said to be old French, let us see whether Boileau will help us out, who has not long since writ the Art of Poetry;
Mais moi, grace au Destin, qui n’ai ni feu ne lieu,
Je me loge où je puis, & comme il plaist à Dieu.
Sat. vi.
And in that which follows,
Et tel, en vous lisant, admire chaque traite,
Qui dans le fond de l’ame, & vous craint & vous hait.