I NEVER heard the old song of Percie and Douglas, that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet; and yet 'it' is sung but by some blinde crowder, with no rougher voice, than rude style; which beeing so evill apparelled in the dust and cobweb of that uncivill age, what would it work, trimmed in the gorgeous eloquence of Pindare ! SIR PHILIP SYDNEY'S DEFENCE OF POETRY. |