"For not to have been dipt in Lethe lake,
Could save the sonne of Thetis from to die;
But that blinde bard did him immortall make 430
With verses dipt in deaw of Castalie:
Which made the Easterne conquerour to crie,
O fortunate yong man! whose vertue found
So brave a trompe thy noble acts to sound.
"Therefore in this halfe happie I doo read* 435
Good Melibae, that hath a poet got
To sing his living praises being dead,
Deserving never here to be forgot,
In spight of envie, that his deeds would spot:
Since whose decease, learning lies unregarded, 440
And men of armes doo wander unrewarded.
[* _Read_, consider]
"Those two be those two great calamities,
That long agoe did grieve the noble spright
Of Salomon with great indignities,
Who whilome was alive the wisest wight: 445
But now his wisedome is disprooved quite,
For he that now welds* all things at his will
Scorns th'one and th'other in his deeper skill.
[* _Welds_, wields]
"O griefe of griefes! O gall of all good heartes!
To see that vertue should dispised bee 450
Of him that first was raisde for vertuous parts,
And now, broad spreading like an aged tree,
Lets none shoot up that nigh him planted bee.
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