He being slender and tall, This cunning Doctor took A fine perspective Glass, with which, He did in Secret look.
It is a Wonder that the learned World shou'd differ so in their Opinions concerning the Invention and Antiquity of Optic Glasses, and that any one should contend for _Metius_ of _Alcmaer_, or, as Dr. _Plot_ does, for _Fryar Bacon_, when, if this Author had been consulted, Matters might have been so easily adjusted. Some great Men indeed wou'd prove from hence, our Knight was the Inventor of 'em, that his Valet might the more commodiously see to dress him; but if we consider there were no Beau's in that Age, or reflect more maturely on the Epithet here given to the Doctor, we may readily conclude, that the Honour of this Invention belongs more particularly to that ingenious Profession.
How lovely is the Account of the Departure of his Soul from his Body:
And so with Peace and Quietness He left the World below.
And up into the Fairy Land His Soul did fleeting go.
----At Æthereas repetit mens ignea sedes.
Whereas the Fairy Queen receiv'd With happy Mourning Cheer The Body of this valiant Knight, Whom she esteem'd so dear; For with her dancing Nymphs in Green She fetch'd him from his Bed, With Musick and with Melody, As soon as Life was fled.
----Et fotum gremio Dea tollit in Altos Idaliæ lucos----
Thither the Fairys and their Train resort, And leave their Revels, and their midnight Sport.
We find in all the most celebrated Poets some Goddess that takes upon her to be the peculiar Guardian of the Hero, which has been carry'd on very elegantly in this Author.
For whom King _Arthur_ and his Knights, Full forty Days did mourn, And in Remembrance of his name, Who was so strangely born, He built a Tomb of Marble grey, And Year by Year did come, To celebrate the Mournful Day, And Burial of _Tom Thumb_, Whose Fame lives here in _England_ still, Among the Country sort, Of whom their Wives and Children small, Tell Tales of pleasant Sport.
----Luctus monumenta manebunt Semper Adoni mei, repetita[que] mortis Imago Annua plangoris peragit simulamina Nostri.
Nor is this Conclusion unlike one of the best Latin Poems this Age has produc'd.
Tu Taffi Æternum vives, tua munera Cambri Nunc etiam Celebrant, quoties[que] revolvitur Annus Te memorant, Patrium Gens tota tuetur Honorem, Et cingunt viridi redolentia tempora Porro.