Page:The works of Anne Bradstreet in prose and verse.djvu/432

 34^ Anne Bradjlreefs Works.

To fhew the world, they never faw before, That this one Volume fliould exhauft your ftore; His wifer dayes condemn'd his witty works, Who knows the Ipels that in his Rhetorick lurks, But fome infatuate fools foon caught therein, [204] Fond Cupids Dame had never fuch a gin, Which makes feverer eyes but flight that ftory, And men of morofe minds envy his glory: But he's a Beetle-head that can't defcry A world of wealth within that rubbifli lye, And doth his name, his work, his honour wrong, The brave refiner of our Britifh tongue.

Let then, none dif-allow of thefe my ftraines, Which have the felf-fame blood jet in my veines ; * Who honours thee for what was honourable, But leaves the reft, as moft unprofitable : Thy wifer dayes, condemn'd thy witty works, Who knowes the Spels that in thy Rethorick lurks ? But fome infatuate fooles foone caught therein, Found Cupids Dam, had never fuch a Gin ; Which makes feverer eyes but fcorn thy Story, And modeft Maids, and Wives, blulTi at thy glory ; Yet, he's a beetle head, that cann't difcry A world of treafure, in that rubbilb lye; And doth thy felfe, thy worke, and honour wrong, (O brave Refiner of our BrittiJJi Tongue ;) That fees not learning, valour, and morality, Juftice, friendfhip, and kind hofpitality; Yea, and Divinity within thy Book, Such were prejudicate, and did not look : But to fay truth, thy worth I Ihall but ftaine. Thy fame, and praife, is farre beyond my flraine;


 * See page 347, line 10, and Introduction.

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