With impotent endeavour,
Though Stafford is serene and suave,
And Randolph rude and clever.
I think my thoughts upon the throng
Fall sweet as dews on Hermon:
And that I’ll, set them to a song,
Though apter at a sermon.
I think that some are men of parts,
Whilst some are vulgar fractions,
That some are good at Liberals arts.