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To my friend Mr John FORD, (on Love's Sacri
Unto this altar, rich with thy own spice,
Look here, thou, that hast malice to the stage,
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.
Believe me, friend, the name of this and thee,
Will live, your story :
* This dramatic author, whose plays, though very numerous, often exhibit uncommon poetical powers, was, according to Oldys (MS. notes to Langbaine), born about 1594, near Stocks Mar. ket in London, and died in the parish of St Giles's in the Fields, having been burnt out of his habitation in Fleet Street in the great fire of 1666.
When the arts doat, then some sick poet may
Hope that his pen, In new-stain's 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,
To his worthy Friend, Master John FORD, upon
his Perkin Warbeck.
Let men, who are writ poets, lay a claim
RA. EURE, baronis primogenitus *.
* He was the son of William, Lord Eure.
To my faithful, no less deserving Friend, the Author
(of Perkin Warbeck), this indebted oblation.
Perkin is rediviv'd by thy strong hand,
GEORGE CRYMES, miles.
To the Author, his Friend, upon his Chronicle His
tory (of Perkin Warbeck.)
These are not to express thy wit,
John BROGRAVE, Ar,
To my Friend and Kinsman Master John FORD,
the Author (of Perkin Warbeck.)
DRAMATIC poets, as the times go now,
John FORD, Graiensis.
To Master John FORD of the Middle Temple, on
his Bower of Fancies (or, Fancies Chaste and Noble.)
I FOLLOW fair example, not report,
To show how I can write,
But to acquit a debt,
These Fancies Chaste and Noble, are no strains
They speak unblushing truth,
Well relish'd, might repair
Such labours, friend, will live; for though some new Pretenders to the stage, in haste pursue
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 approv'd deserv'd.
Upon the Sun's Darling (by FORD and DEKKAR.)
Is he then found ? Phoebus, make holiday,
Tie up thy steeds, and let the Cyclops play: Mulciber, leave thy anvil, and be trim ; Comb thy black muzzle, be no longer grim: Mercury, be quick, with mirth furnish the heavens; Jove, this day let all run at six and sevens ; And Ganimede, be nimble, to the brim Fill bowls of nectar that the Gods may swim, To solemnize their health that did discover The obscure being of the Sun's fond lover; That from th' example of their liberal mirth We may enjoy like freedom (here] on earth.
John TATHAM *.
* John Tatham was a poet of the reign of Charles I. and au. thor of four plays enumerated in the Biographia Dramatica. From 1657 to 1663, he furnished pageants for the Lord Mayor's day, in the quality of city poet.