Illustrious acts high raptures do infuse, And every conqueror creates a muse.
Happy is she that from the world retires, and carries with her what the world admires.
Music so softens and disarms the mind That not an arrow does resistance find.
When religion doth with virtue join, it makes a hero like an angel shine.
Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
Vexed sailors cursed the rain, for which poor shepherds prayed in vain.