I.
_No common Height the Muse must soar, That wou’d thy Fame in Numbers try; Nor dare in humble Verse adore, But rise with Thee above the Sky: You ask a bold and lofty Strain, And what we meanly sing, disdain._
_No common Height the Muse must soar, That wou’d thy Fame in Numbers try; Nor dare in humble Verse adore, But rise with Thee above the Sky: You ask a bold and lofty Strain, And what we meanly sing, disdain._