Lords of the Worlds great Wast, the Ocean, we Whole Forrests send to reign upon the Sea; And every Coast may trouble or relieve, But none can visit us without our leave; Angels and we have this Prerogative, That none can at our happy Seat arrive, While we descend at pleasure to invade The bad with Vengeance, or the good to aid: Our little world the image of the great, Like that amidst the boundless Ocean set, Of her own growth has all that Nature craves, And all that's rare as Tribute from the waves. _As AEgypt_ does not on the Clouds rely, But to her _Nyle_ owes more then to the sky; So what our Earth, and what our Heaven denies, Our ever constant friend, the Sea supplies. The tast of hot _Arabia's_ Spice we know, Free from the Scorching Sun that makes it grow; Without the worm, in _Persian_ Silks we shine, And without Planting drink of every Vine; To dig for wealth we weary not our limbs, Gold, though the heaviest metal, hither swims. Ours is the Harvest where the _Indians_ mow, We plough the deep, and reap what others Sow. I shall only add two lines more of his, quoted by several Authors. All that the Angels do above, Is that they sing; and that they love. In sum, this our Poet was not Inferior to _Carew_, _Lovelace_, nor any of those who were accounted the brightest Stars in the Firmament of Poetry. * * * * * Sir _JOHN DENHAM_. Sir _John Denham_ was a Gentleman, who to his other Honors had this added; that he was one of the Chief of the _Delphick Quire_, and for his Writings worthy to be Crowned with a wreath of Stars. The excellency of his Poetry may be seen in his _Coopers Hill_, which whosoever shall deny, may be accounted no Friends to the Muses: His Tragedy of the _Sophy_, is equal to any of the Chiefest Authors, which with his other Works bound together in one Volume, will make his name Famous to all Posterity. * * * * * Sir _WILLIAM DAVENANT_.