John Dauncey
John Dauncey, a true Son of Apollo, and Bacchus; was one who had an Excellent Command of his Pen, a fluent Stile, and quick Invention: nor did any thing come amiss to his undertaking. He wrote a compleat History of the late times; a Chronicle of the Kingdom of Portugal; the English Lovers, a Romance; which for Language and Contrivance, comes not short of either of the best of French or Spanish. He Translated a Tragi Comedy out of French, called Nichomede, equal in English to the French Original; besides several other things, too long to recite. His English Lovers was Commended by divers of sound Judgment; amongst others, Mr. Lewis Griffin, our forementioned Poet, made these verses in commendations of it.
Rich Soul of Wit and Language, thy high strains
So plunge and puzzle unrefined brains;
That their Illiterate Spirits do not know,
How much to thy Ingenious Pen they owe,
Should my presumptuous Muse attempt to raise
Trophies to thee, she might as well go blaze
Bright Planets with base Colours, or display
The Worlds Creation in a Puppet-Play.
Let this suffice, what Calumnies may chance,
To blur thy Fame, they spring from Ignorance.
When Old Orpheus drew the Beasts along,
By sweet Rhetorick of his learned Tongue,
’Twas deafness made the Adder sin; and this
Caus’d him, who should have hum’d the Poet, hiss.