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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426729" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Virgidemarium (excerpt)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">With some pot-fury, ravish'd from their wit,<br> They sit and muse on some no-vulgar writ:<br> As frozen dunghills in a winter's morn,<br> That void of vapours seemed all beforn,<br> Soon as the sun sends out his piercing beams,<br> Exhale out filthy smoke and stinking steams;<br> So doth the base, and the fore-barren brain,<br> Soon as the raging wine begins to reign.<br> One higher pitch'd doth set his soaring thought<br> On crowned kings, that fortune hath low brought;<br> Or some upreared, high-aspiring swain,<br> As it might be the Turkish Tamberlain:<br> Then weeneth he his base drink-drowned spright<br> Rapt to the three-fold loft of heaven height,<br> When he conceives upon his feigned stage<br> The stalking steps of his great personage,<br> Graced with huff-cap terms and thund'ring threats,<br> That his poor hearers' hair quite upright sets.<br> Such soon as some brave-minded hungry youth<br> Sees fitly frame to his wide-strained mouth,<br> He vaunts his voice upon an hired stage,<br> With high-set steps and princely carriage;<br> Now swooping in side-robes of royalty,<br> That erst did scrub in lousy brokery.<br> There if he can with terms Italianate,<br> Big-sounding sentences and words of state,<br> Fair patch me up his pure iambic verse,<br> He ravishes the gazing scaffolders.<br> Then certes was the famous Corduban<br> Never but half so high tragedian.<br> Now, lest such frightful shows of Fortune's fall,<br> And bloody tyrant's rage, should chance appall<br> The dead-struck audience, midst the silent rout,<br> Comes leaping in a self-misformed lout,<br> And laughs, and grins, and frames his mimic face,<br> And justles straight into the prince's place;<br> Then doth the theatre echo all aloud,<br> With gladsome noise of that applauding crowd.<br> A goodly hotch-potch! when vile russetings<br> Are match'd with monarchs, and with mighty kings<br> A goodly grace to sober tragic muse,<br> When each base clown his clumsy fist doth bruise,<br> And show his teeth in double rotten row,<br> For laughter at his self-resembled show.<br> Meanwhile our poets in high parliament<br> Sit watching every word and gesturement,<br> Like curious censors of some doughty gear,<br> Whispering their verdict in their fellow's ear.<br> Woe to the word whose margent in their scroll<br> Is noted with a black condemning coal.<br> But if each period might the synod please,</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Ho!--bring the ivy boughs, and bands of bays.<br> Now when they part and leave the naked stage,<br> 'Gins the bare hearer, in a guilty rage,<br> To curse and ban, and blame his likerous eye,<br> That thus hath lavish'd his late halfpenny.<br> Shame that the Muses should be bought and sold,<br> For every peasant's brass, on each scaffold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Joseph+Hall">Joseph Hall</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=426729" data-title="Virgidemarium (excerpt) de Joseph Hall" data-description="With some pot-fury, ravish'd from their wit,
 They sit and muse on some no-vulgar writ:
 As frozen dunghills in a winter's morn,
 That void of vapours seemed all beforn,
 Soon as the sun sends out his piercing beams,
 Exhale out filthy smoke and s..."></div>
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