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Of fitting objects be not so inflamed.

How much, then, were this kingdom's main soul maimed To want this great inflamer of all powers

That move in human souls! All realms but yours

Are honored with them, and hold blest that State

That have his works to read and contemplate,

In which humanity to her height is raised;

Which all the world, yet none enough hath praised.

Seas, earth, and heaven, he did in verse comprise,

Outsung the Muses, and did equalize

Their King Apollo; being so far from cause

Of princes' light thoughts, that their gravest laws

May find stuff to be fashioned by his lines.

Through all the pomp of kingdoms still he shines,

And graceth all his gracers. Then let lie

Your lutes and viols, and more loftily

Make the heroics of your Homer sung;

To drums and trumpets set his angel

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