Poem 2 From Pierce Penilesse
Perusing
yesternight
with
idle
eyes,
The
Fairy
Singers
stately
tuned
verse:
And
viewing
after
Chap-mens
wonted
guise,
What
strange
contents
the
title
did
rehearse.
I
streight
leapt
ouer
to
the
latter
end,
Where
like
the
queint
Comædians
of
our
time,
That
when
their
Play
is
doone
do
fal
to
ryme,
I
found
short
lines,
to
sundry
Nobles
pend.
Whom
he
as
speciall
Mirrours
singled
fourth,
To
be
the
Patrons
of
his
Poetry;
I
read
them
all,
and
reuerenc't
their
worth,
Yet
wondred
he
left
out
thy
memory.
But
therefore
gest
I
he
supprest
thy
name,
Because
few
words
might
not
co[m]prise
thy
fame.
