He was born a Gentleman, and bred up a Scholar, but his Father not leaving him Means enough to support the one, and the Times in that Condition, that without Money Learning is little regarded; he therefore betook him to a Gentile Employment, which his Learning had made him capable to do; but the succession of a worse fate disemploying him, as he himself saith in his Epistle to the Reader of his Book, entituled, Pierides, or the Muses Mount, he betook him to his Pen, (that Idleness might not sway) which in time produced a Volume of Poems, which to give you a tast of the briskness of his Muse, I shall instance in a few lines, in one or two of them.
When I remember what mine eyes have seen,
And what mine Ears have heard,
Concerning Muses too young and green;
And how they have been jear'd,
T' expose my own I am afear'd.
And yet this fear decreases, when I call
To my tempestuous mind,
How the strong loins of Phoebus Children all,
Have faln by Censures mind: