Mr. Waller to the Author, on his
foregoing Verses to the King.
AN early Plant, which such a Blossom bears,
And shows a Genius so beyond his Years,
A Judgment that cou’d make so fair a Choice,
So high a Subject to employ his Voice;
Still as it grows, how sweetly will he sing
The growing Greatness of our matchless King!
To Mr. Waller.
WHEN into Libya the young Grecian came,
To talk with Hammon, and consult for Fame;
When from the Sacred Tripod where he stood,
The Priest inspir’d saluted him a God;
Scarce such a Joy that haughty Victor knew,
So own’d be Heav’n, as I thus prais’d by you.
Whoe’er their Names can in thy Numbers show,
Have more than Empire, and immortal grow;
Ages to come shall scorn the Powers of old,
When in thy Verse of greater Gods they’re told;
Our beauteous Queen, and martial Monarch’s Name,
For Jove and June shall be plac’d by Fame;
