Regardless of his state, laid by the god,
And own’d sweet music’s more alluring pow’r.
On either side was plac’d a peerless wight,
Whose merit long had fill’d the trump of Fame;
This, Fancy’s darling child, was Spenser hight,
Who pip’d full pleasing on the banks of Tame;
That, no less fam’d than he, and Milton was his name.
. . . . . . .
Next Shakespeare sat, irregularly great,
And in his hand a magic rod did hold,