To His Honoured and Most Ingenious Friendmr Charles Cotton
For brave comportment, wit without offence,
Words fully flowing, yet of influence,
Thou art that man of men, the man alone
Worthy the public admiration;
Who with thine own eyes read’st what we do write,
And giv’st our numbers euphony and weight;
Tell’st when a verse springs high; how understood
To be, or not, born of the royal blood
What state above, what symmetry below,
Lines have, or should have, thou the best can show:—
For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be,
Not so much known, as to be loved of thee:—
Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays
Be less another’s laurel, than thy praise.
