[_To the Reader._] As in some other cases, I have thought it best to keep the original arrangement of capitals, type-differences, &c., here. The poems are printed, like the greater part of the collection, in modern form, but with no important alterations unnoticed.] On the Excellent Poems of my most Worthy Friend, Mr. Thomas Flatman. You happy issue of a happy wit, As ever yet in charming numbers writ, Welcome into the light, and may we be Worthy so happy a posterity. We long have wish'd for something excellent; But ne'er till now knew rightly what it meant: For though we have been gratified, 'tis true, From several hands with things both fine and new, The wits must pardon me, if I profess, That till this time the over-teeming press 10 Ne'er set out Poesy in so true a dress: Nor is it all, to have a share of wit, There must be judgement too to manage it; For Fancy's like a rough, but ready horse, Whose mouth is govern'd more by skill than force; Wherein (my friend) you do a maistry own, If not particular to you alone; Yet such at least as to all eyes declares Your Pegasus the best performs his airs. Your Muse can humour all her subjects so, 20 That as we read we do both feel and know; And the most firm impenetrable breast With the same passion that you write's possest. Your lines are rules, which who shall well observe Shall even in their errors praise deserve: The boiling youth, whose blood is all on fire, Push'd on by vanity, and hot desire, May learn such conduct here, men may approve And not excuse, but even applaud his love. Ovid, who made an art of what to all 30 Is in itself but too too natural, Had he but read your verse, might then have seen The style of which his precepts should have been, And (which it seems he knew not) learnt from thence To reconcile frailty with innocence. The love _you_ write virgins and boys may read, And never be debauch'd but better bred; For without love, beauty would bear no price, And dullness, than desire's a greater vice: Your greater subjects with such force are writ 40 So full of sinewy strength, as well as wit, That when you are _religious_, our divines May emulate, but not reprove your lines: And when you reason, there the learned crew May learn to speculate, and speak from you. You no profane, no obscene language use To smut your paper, or defile your Muse. Your gayest things, as well express'd as meant, Are equally both quaint and innocent. But your Pindaric Odes indeed are such 50 That Pindar's lyre from his own skilful touch Ne'er yielded such an harmony, nor yet Verse keep such time on so unequal feet. So by his own generous confession Great Tasso by Guarini was outdone: And (which in copying seldom does befall)