Classic Poem

To his noble Friend, th' Author on his Tragedy of Albouine .

The gelid North growes warme, and by thy fire
Cold ignorance exil'd. The Virgin Quire
O' th' soft-hayr'd Muses leaue the Thespian Spring,
To tread a fun'rall Measure, whilst you sing
This Tragick Storie. With sad plaints of loue
Fam'd Orpheus charm'd rude heapes, did Cedars mooue ,
Forc'd Mountaines from their station: but thy Pen
Hath now amaz'd the firie soules of men.

To his noble Friend, th' Author on his Tragedy of Albouine .

The gelid North growes warme, and by thy fire
Cold ignorance exil'd. The Virgin Quire
O' th' soft-hayr'd Muses leaue the Thespian Spring,
To tread a fun'rall Measure, whilst you sing
This Tragick Storie. With sad plaints of loue
Fam'd Orpheus charm'd rude heapes, did Cedars mooue ,
Forc'd Mountaines from their station: but thy Pen
Hath now amaz'd the firie soules of men.