Old Geoffrey's language was not fit for plea.
Drayton on 's brains a new Moon-calf was getting,
And testy Drummond could not speak for fretting.
I knew the Roscian's feature, not his name;
210Yet 'tis engraven on the shawm of Fame.
With settled grace he boldly did advance:
'Father of gods! King of the large expanse!
We oft have heard proud Envy belching forth
Fogs, mists, and fumes, t' eclipse the metric worth,
And know the teeming world did never nurse