The soul to be an harmony, and reign'd
Amongst the senses with accounts and measures,
All which thy lofty poesy entreasures,
That quaintest warblers cannot with delight
Outworth the poet in his lyric height.
As those which with quick eyes where judgement sits,
Thy vindication of poetic wits
Do read, may see, whose swelling metres teach
All aliens such high English that to reach
Is harder than to like or belch forth scandals.