128.
O, that I had Homer's aboundant vaine,
I would hierof another Ilias make:
Or els the man of Mantua's[260] charmèd braine,
In whose large throat great Joue the thunder spake.
O that I could old Gefferie's[261] Muse awake,
Or borrow Colin's[262] fayre heroike stile,
Or smooth my rimes with Delia's servants file.[263]
129.
O, could I, sweet Companion, sing like you,
Which, of a shadow, under a shadow sing;[264]
Or, like Salue's sad lover true,
Or like the Bay, the Marigold's darling,[265]
Whose suddaine verse Loue covers with his wing:
O that your braines were mingled all with mine,
T' inlarge my wit for this great worke diuine!
130.
Yet, Astrophell might one for all suffize,
Whose supple Muse Camelion-like doth change
Into all formes of excellent deuise:
So might the Swallow,[266] whose swift Muse doth range
Through rare Idæas, and inuentions strange,
And euer doth enioy her ioyfull Spring,
And sweeter then the Nightingale doth sing.
131.
O that I might that singing Swallow heare,
To whom I owe my seruice and my loue!
His sugred tunes would so enchant mine eare,
And in my mind such sacred fury moue,
As I should knock at Heau'ns gate aboue,
With my proude rimes, while of this heau'nly state
I doe aspire the shadow to relate.[267]
Finis.