LXXV. Samuel Daniel

ALAS! poore fame, in what a narrow roome

As an incaged parrot, art thou pent

Here amongst vs, where euen as good be dumbe

As speake, and to be heard with no attent?

How can you promise of the time to come,

When as the present are so negligent?

Is this the walke of all your wide renowne,

This little point, this scarce discerned ile,

Thrust from the world, with whome our speech vnknowne

Made neuer any traffic of our stile?

And is this all, where all this care is sowne,

T’ inchant your fame to last so long a while?

And for that happier tongues haue wonne so much,

Thinke you to make your barbarous language such?

Poore narrow limites for so mighty paines,

That cannot promise any forraine vent!

And yet if here to all your wondrous vaines

Were generally known, it might content:

But loe, how many reades not or disdaines

The labours of the chief and excellent!