"Where Virgil says,
Lauri et myricae flevêre,
the figure's beautiful; where Mr. D. says,
the laurel stands in tears, And hung with humid pearls, the lowly shrub appears,
the figure is lost, and a foolish and impertinent representation comes in its place; an ordinary dewy morning might fill the laurels and shrubs with Mr. D.'s tears, though Gallus had not been concerned in it.
And yet the queen of beauty blest his bed—
"Here Mr. D. comes with his ugly patch upon a beautiful face: what had the queen of beauty to do here? Lycoris did not despise her lover for his meanness, but because she had a mind to be a Catholic whore. Gallus was of quality, but her spark a poor inferior fellow. And yet the queen of beauty, etc., would have followed there very well, but not where wanton Mr. D. has fixt her."
Flushed were his cheeks, and glowing were his eyes.
"This character is fitter for one that is drunk than one in an amazement, and is a thought unbecoming Virgil."
And for thy rival, tempts the raging sea,
The forms of horrid war, and heaven's inclemency.