Du Bartas heavenly all admired Muse, No unknowne Language ever us'de to use: But as he was a Frenchman, so his lines In native French with fame most glorious shines, And in the English tongue tis fitly stated, By silver-tongued Silvester translated So well, so wisely, and so rarely done, That he by it immortall fame hath wonne. Then as Great Maro, and renowned Naso, Brave Homer, Petrarcke, sweete Italian Tasso: And numbers more, past numbring to be numberd, Whose rare inventions never were incumberd, With our outlandish chip chop gibrish gabling, To fill mens eares with unacquainted babling: Why may not then an Englishman, I pray, In his owne language write as erst did they, Yet must we suit our phrases to their shapes, And in their imitations be their Apes.
