Let hate, or grosser heats, their foulness mask
Under the vizor of a borrowed name;
Let things eschew the light deserving blame:
No cause hast thou to blush for thy sweet task.
" Marcian Colonna " is a dainty book;
And thy " Sicilian Tale " may boldly pass;
Thy " Dream " 'bove all, in which, as in a glass,
On the great world's antique glories we may look.
No longer then, as " lowly substitute,
Factor, or Proctor , for another's gains, "
uffer the admiring world to be deceived;
Lest thou thyself, by self of fame bereaved,
Lament too late the lost prize of thy pains,
And heavenly tunes piped through an alien flute.