XXV.
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that I had the Thracian poets harpe,For to awake out of th’infernall shadeThose antique Caesars, sleeping long in darke,The which this auncient citie whilome made!Or that I had Amphions instrument,To quicken with his vitall notes accordThe stonie ioynts of these old walls now rent,By which th’Ausonian light might be restor’d!Or that at least I could with pencill fineFashion the pourtraicts of these palacis,By paterne of great Virgils spirit divine!I would assay with that which in me isTo builde, with levell of my loftie style,That which no hands can evermore compyle.
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