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On his other Poems.
Thou hast redeem'd us, will; and future Times,
Shall not account unto the Age's crimes
Dearth of pure Wit: since the great Lord of it
(Donne) parted hence, no Man has ever writ
So neere him, in's owne way: I would commend
Particulars, but then, how should I end
Without a Volume? Ev'ry Line of thine
Would aske (to praise it right) Twenty of mine.
Shall not account unto the Age's crimes
Dearth of pure Wit: since the great Lord of it
(Donne) parted hence, no Man has ever writ
So neere him, in's owne way: I would commend
Particulars, but then, how should I end
Without a Volume? Ev'ry Line of thine
Would aske (to praise it right) Twenty of mine.
