I NEVER heard the old song of Percie and Douglas, that I found not my heart moved more than with a trumpet; and yet 'it' is sung but by some blinde crowder, with no rougher voice, than rude style; which beeing so evill apparelled in the dust and cobweb of that uncivill age, what would it work, trimmed in the gorgeous eloquence of Pindare! SIR PHILIP SYDNEY'S DEFENCE OF POETRY. |