And help'd to put her dressings on. Secure Rest thou that thy name herein shall endure Gloriously fair, even in her infamy. THOMAS ELLICE.* To my Friend Mr. JOHN FORD, (on his Love's Sacrifice.) To read this tragedy, and thy own be next. JAMES SHIRLEY. To my own Friend, Master JOHN FORD, on his justifiable Poem of Perkin Warbeck, this Ode. THEY who do know me, know that I, Unskill'd to flatter, Dare speak this piece, in words, in matter, A work, without the danger of a lie. * A relative, perhaps, of Mr. Robert Ellice, one of the three respected friends' to whom our poet inscribed the Lover's Melancholy.' Voluminously ignorant, &c.] Antony Wood has adopted and justified this characteristic designation of Prynne. He may as well be called " voluminous Prynne," he says, "as Tostatus Abulensis was, two hundred years before him, called voluminous Tostatus," &c. Believe me, friend, the name of this and thee, Will live, your story: Books may want faith, or merit glory; This neither, without judgment's lethargy. When the arts doat, then some sick poet may Hope that his pen, In new-stain'd paper, can find men To roar, "He is the Wit;" his noise doth sway: But such an age cannot be known; for all Ere that time be, Must prove such truth, mortality: So, friend, thy honour stands too fix'd to fall. GEORGE DONNE.* To his worthy Friend, Master JOHN FORD, upon his LET men, who are writ poets, lay a claim * GEORGE DONNE.] Here again credit is given to Ford for the praises of such a celebrated pen as Dr. Donne's; who, as the commentator is not afraid to assert, was the steady friend of the the poet, and peculiarly attached to him.' Between Jonson and Donne, indeed, there was a warm and lasting attachment; their studies lay much in the same way at one period of their lives. Ben, like himself, was a profound scholar, and deeply versed in his favourite pursuit, a knowledge of the early Fathers of the Church. But it is more than probable that Ford was not even known to him by name. It is one of the most venial of Mr. Weber's oscitancies to be ignorant that Dr. Donne had, at the time this was written, been two years in his grave. Nor art in verse; true, I have heard some tell RA. EURE, baronis primogenitus.* To my faithful, no less deserving Friend, the Author (of Perkin Warbeck), this indebted oblation. PERKIN is rediviv'd by thy strong hand, And crown'd a king of new; the vengeful wand May rest unmention'd, and his birth's collusion Thou hast eternis'd; made a crown his game. GEORGE CRYMES, miles. * "The son of William, Lord Eure." Of the Miles who follows, I can say nothing. I have, however, corrected bis verses, which were shamefully misprinted in the former edition. To the Author, his Friend, upon his Chronicle History (of Perkin Warbeck.) THESE are not to express thy wit, JOHN BROGRAVE, Ar. Το my Friend and Kinsman Master JOHN FORD, the DRAMATIC poets, as the times go now, The cynic snarls, the critic howls and barks, JOHN FORD, Graiensis. To Master JOHN FORD, of the Middle Temple, on his I FOLLOW fair example, not report, To show how I can write, At mine own charges, for the time's delight: But to acquit a debt, Due to right poets, not the counterfeit. These Fancies Chaste and Noble are no strains The guard of beauty, and the care of youth; An academy for the young and fair. Such labours, friend, will live; for though some new Those laurels, which of old Enrich'd the actors: yet I can be bold, To say, their hopes are starv'd; For they but beg, what pens approved deserv'd. EDW. GREENFIELD. Upon the Sun's Darling. Is he then found? Phoebus, make holiday, |