Poetical Addrejfes to the Author. 95
��This feem'd the Scite of all thofe verdant vales, And purled fprings, whereat the Nymphs do play, With lofty hills, where Poets rear their tales. To heavenly vaults, which heav'nly found repay By ecchoes fweet rebound, here Ladyes kifs. Circling nor fongs, nor dances circle mifs; But whilft thofe Syrens fung, I funk in fea of blifs.
��Thus weltring in delight, my virgin mind
Admits a rape; truth ftill lyes undifcri'd,
Its fingular, that plural feem'd, I find,
'Twas Fancies glafs alone that multipli'd;
Nature with Art fo clofely did combine,
I thought I faw the Mufes trebble trine.
Which prov'd your lonely Mufe, fuperiour to the nine.
8
Your onl}^ hand thofe Poefies did compofe, [^i^]
Your head the fource, whence all thofe fprings did
flow. Your voice, whence changes fweetefl; notes arofe. Your feet that kept the dance alone, I trow: Then vail your bonnets, Poetafters all. Strike, lower amain, and at thefe humbly fall, And deem your felves advanced to be her Pedeftal.
�� �
