All that can e'er in a sweet vein be found Of charm, ye will in one man only find, Who bridleth to his muse's gladsome sound The ocean's madness and the hurrying wind; For BALTASAR DE ORENA[189] is renowned, From pole to pole his fame, swift as the wind, Doth run, and from the East unto the West, True honour he of our Parnassus' crest. A fruitful and a precious plant I know That hath been to the highest mountain found In Thessaly transplanted thence, and, lo! A plant ere this with happy fruitage crowned; Shall I be still nor tell what fame doth show Of PEDRO DE ALVARADO[190] the renowned? Renowned, yet no less brightly doth he shine, For rare on earth is such a mind divine. Thou, who with thy new muse of wondrous grace Art of the moods of love, CAIRASCO,[191] singing, And of that common varying fickleness, Where cowards 'gainst the brave themselves are flinging; If from the Grand Canary to this place Thou art thy quick and noble ardour bringing, A thousand laurels, for thou hast deserved, My shepherds offer, praises well-deserved. What man, time-honoured Tormes, would deny That thou canst e'en the Nile itself excel, If VEGA in thy praises can outvie E'en Tityrus who did of Mincio tell? DAMIÁN,[192] I know thy genius riseth high To where this honour doth thine honours swell, For my experience of many years Thy knowledge and thy virtue choice declares. Although thy genius and thy winning grace, FRANCISCO SÁNCHEZ,[193] were to give me leave, If I dared form the wish to hymn thy praise, Censure should I for lack of skill receive; None but a master-tongue, whose dwelling place Is in the heavens, can be the tongue to achieve The lengthy course and of thy praises speak, For human tongue is for this task too weak. The things that an exalted spirit show, The things that are so rare, so new in style, Which fame, esteem, and knowledge bring to view By hundred thousand proofs of wit and toil, Cause me to give the praises that are due To DON FRANCISCO DE LAS CUEVAS,[194] while Fame that proclaims the tidings everywhere, Seeks not to linger in her swift career. At such a time as this I would have crowned My sweet song gladly, shepherds, with the praise Of one whose genius doth the world astound, And could your senses ravish and amaze; In him the union and the sum is found Of all I have praised and have yet to praise; FRAY LUIS DE LEÓN[195] it is I sing, Whom I love and adore, to whom I cling.