WILLIAM COLLINS, 1743
(1721-1759)
Too nicely Jonson knew the critic’s part;
Nature in him was almost lost in art.
Of softer mould the gentle Fletcher came,
The next in order, as the next in name:
With pleas’d attention ’midst his scenes we find
Each glowing thought that warms the female mind;
Each melting sigh and every tender tear,
The lover’s wishes, and the virgin’s fear.