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Work is now generally known andesteem'd; and I having the Honour to hear Your Lordlhip fay, that a smaller Edition of it would be the "World, immediately resolv'd upon Printing it in this Volume, of which I most humbly beg Your Acceptance, from,


Tour Lordjbifs
Ever Obliged Servant.


Paradisum Amiflam

Summi Poetas


QVi legu %AmiJsam Paradisum, grandia mugri
siri».B.i Miltoni, quid nifi cuniiu legis*
*\es cunflas, & cunilarHtn primerdin rcntm,

Et fiu», ir firui comimet ijte liber.
Intimt fanduntur magni penetralia, mimii,
Scribitur for tota quicquid in Orbe law.
Terraque, tralfusque marts, velumque prefundum
Sulfhstreumque Erebi, flammivomumque speeds,
guaque colmt terra/, Pmtumque for Tartar* caca,

guaque cclunt summi lucid* regna Pell.
Et qutdcKnque ullis ctnclnsum eft finibus usquam,

Et sine fine Chios, for fine fine Dem:
Et fine fine magis, si quid magis est fine fine,

In Chrifto ergo, hemines conciliatus amor.
H*c q»i speraret quit crederet ejse sdturum t

Et tamtn htc bodie terra Britanna legit.
O quant os in hello- Duces', qua protulit armal
Qua) omit, for quanta [raliit dira tuba-

tsUfles ttiest, usque in cerramlne Ctlum\

Et qua Calisies pugna deceret agros I Quantus in athetiis fllit se Lucifer arms'.

^rtque if fe gradrtur vix Michaele minir'. Quantis, & quant funcf.ii cencurtitur itis

Dura ferns bic stelUs pratect, ille rapit\ Dum vulses Mantes ceu Tela reciprica torquent,

Et non morrali desuper igne pluunt: Srat duhius cm se p<uti emcedat Olympus,

Et mrtuit pugna non fupereffe fu*. \Atsimul in ceelis Mejfi* insignia fulgent,

Et curtus animes, armaque dtgna Dii, Hertendumque rrt a sttident, & fasva rorarum

Erumpmt torvis fulpura luminibtu,
Etsiamma vibrant, & 2<era tonitrua ra«c»

Admistis flammis infonuere Pel':
Excidit artonitis mens otnnis, & imprtus enems

Et cassis dexttis irtira Tela cadunt.
Ad ptenns fugiunt, & ecu for rt Orcus afjlum

Infernis cerrant tondere se tenebtis.
Cedite B.omani Sctiptores, cedite Giaii

Et qmsfama recens vel celtbravit aniis'.

lUc quicunque legrt rantum eecinejfe purabit

M*0»d«m r*nas, Virgilium tnlhts.

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WHen I beheld the Poer blind, yer bold,
In slender Book his vast Design unfold,
Meff*b Crown'd, God's Reconcii'd Decree,
Rebelling Angels, the Forbidden Tree,
Hea^n, Hell, Eatth, Chaos, All3 the Argument
Held me a while misdoubting his Intent,
That he would mine (for I saw him strong)
The sacred Trurhs to Fable aud old Song.
(So Samfson groap'd the Temples Posts in spight)
The World o'erwhelming to revenge his iight.

Yrt as l read, soon growing less severe,
I lik'd his Project, the success did feat;
Thtough that wide Field how he his way should sind,
O'er which lame Faith leads Understanding blind;
Lest he peiplex'd the things he would explain,
And what was easie he mould render vain.

Or if a Work so insinite he spann'd,
Jealous I was that some less skilful hand
(Such as disquier always what is well,
And by ill imirating would excell)
Might hence presume the whole Creation's day
To change in Scenes, and show it in a Play.

Patdon me, mighty Poer, nor despise
My causeless, yer not impious, surmise.
Bur I am now convinc'd, and none will date
Within thy Labours to prrtend a shire.
Thou hast not mi s'd one thought that could be sit*
And all that was improper dost omit:

So that no room is here for Writers left,
But to detect their Ignorance or Theft.

That Majesty which through thy Work doth Reign
Draws the Devout, deterring the Profane.
And things divine thou treat'st of in such state
As them preserves, and thee, inviolate.
At once delight and horror on us seise,
Thou (ing'st with so much gravity and ease-;
And above humane flight dost soar aloft
With Hume so strong, so equal, and so soft.
The Biid nam'd from that Paradise you sin"
So never flags, but always keeps on Wing.

Where couldst thou words of such a compass find i Whence furniih such a vast expence of mind? ]ust Heav'n thee like Tirtsut to requite Rewards with Prophesie thy lose of light.

Well might'st thou scorn thy Readers to allure With tinkling Rhime, of thy own fense secure; While ihtTo-wn-Bj. es writes allthe while and spells And like a Pack-horle tires without his Bells: Their Fancies like our Bufhy-poims appear, The Poets tag them, we for fashion wear. I too transposed by the Mode offend, And while I meant to Praise thee must Commend. Thy Verse created like thy Theme sublime, In Number, Weight and Measure, needs not Rhime.

Andrew MarveR.

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