Who tracks this author's, or translator's pen, Shall find, that either hath read books, and men: To say but one, were single. Then it chimes, When the old words do strike on the new times, As in this Spanish Proteus; who, though writ But in one tongue, was formed with the world's wit: And hath the noblest mark of a good book, That an ill man dares not securely look Upon it, but will loathe, or let it pass, As a deformed face doth a true glass. Such books deserve translators, of like coat As was the genius wherewith they were wrote; And this hath met that one, that may be styled More than the foster-father of this child; For though Spain gave him his first air and vogue, He would be called, henceforth, the @3English Rogue@1, But that he's too well-suited, in a cloth, Finer than was his Spanish, if my oath Will be received in court; if not, would I Had clothed him so. Here's all I can supply To your desert, who have done it, friend. And this Fair emulation, and no envy is; When you behold me wish myself, the man That would have done that which you only can. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PLAYING JACKS IN BHAKTAPUR by KAREN SWENSON NURSE'S SONG, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE SHEPHERD, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE RICH DAYS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE SCRUTINY; SONG by RICHARD LOVELACE |