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Deckt in thy Verse, as clad with Rayes, they shine
All Glorify'd, Immortal and Divine.
As Britain, in rich Soil abounding wide,
Furnish'd for Use, for Luxury, and Pride,
Yet spreads her wanton Sails on ev'ry Shore,
For Foreign Wealth, insatiate still of more;
To her own Wool, the Silks of Asia joins,
And to her plenteous Harvests, Indian Mines:
So Dryden, not contented with the Fame
Of his own Works, tho' an immortal Name,
To Lands remote he sends his learned Muse,
The noblest Seeds of Foreign Wit to chuse.
Feasting our Sense so many various Ways,
Say, Is't thy Bounty, or thy Thirst of Praise?
That by comparing others, all might see,
Who most excell'd, are yet excell'd by thee.
VIRGIL's
