If, for opinion hath not blaz’d his fame
Nor expectation filled the general round,
You deem his labours slight, you both confound
Your graver judgment and his merits:
Impartial hearing fits judicious spirits.
Nor let the fruit of many an hour fall
By envy’s tooth or base detraction’s gall,
Both which are tokens of such abject spirits,
Which wanting worth themselves hate other merits;
Or else of such which, once made great by fame,
Repine at those which seek t’attain the same.
From both we know all truer judgments free;
To them our muse with blushing modesty
Patiently to her entreats their favour;
Which done, with judgment praise, or else dislike the labour.