But had those wits, the wonders of their dayes, Or that sweete Teian poet*, which did spend His plenteous vaine in setting forth her praise, 220 Seen but a glims of this which I pretend**, How wondrously would he her face commend, Above that idole of his fayning thought, That all the world should with his rimes be fraught!

Tis vaine to prayse; they're to themselves a glory, And silence is our sweetest Oratory.

And (to increase my misery) in vaine By heaven I kneeld for't, wept and kneeld in vaine To such as would, while Barnavelt was himself

"There next the utmost brinck doth he abide 385 That did the bankets of the gods bewray, Whose throat through thirst to nought nigh being dride, His sense to seeke for ease turnes every way: And he that in avengement of his pride, For scorning to the sacred gods to pray, 390 Against a mountaine rolls a mightie stone, Calling in vaine for rest, and can have none.