One or two lines to thee I'll here commend,
This honest poem to defend
From calumny, because at this day
All poetry there's many do gain-say,
And very much condemn, as if the same
Did worthily deserve reproach and blame.
If any book in verse they chance to spy,
Away profane, they presently do cry:
But though this kind of writing some dispraise,
Sith men so captious are in these our days
Yet I dare say, how e'er the scruple rose,
Verse hath express'd as secret things as prose.
Though some there be who poetry abuse,
Must we therefore, not the same method use?
Yea, sure, for of my conscience 'tis the best,
And doth deserve more honor than the rest.
For 'tis no humane knowledge gain'd by art,
But rather 'tis inspir'd into the heart
By divine means; for true divinity
Hath with this science great affinity:
Though some through ignorance, do it oppose,
Many do it esteem, far more than prose:
And find also that unto them it brings
Content, and hath been the delight of kings.
David, although a king, yet was a poet,
And Solomon also, the Scriptures show it.
Then what if for all this some do abuse it?
I'm apt to think that angels do embrace it,
And though God giv'st here but in part to some
Saints shall have't perfect in the world to come.