Here is an excerpt:
Appollo, as lately a Circuit he made,
Throo' the lands of the Muses, when Kent he survey'd,
And saw there that Poets were not very common,
But most that pretended to Verse, were the Women
Resolv'd, to encourage, the few that he found,
And she that writ best, with a wreath should be crown'd.
A summons sent out, was obey'd but by four,
When Phebus, afflicted, to meet with no more,
And standing, where sadly, he now might descry,
From the banks of the Stoure, the desolate Wye,
He lamented for Behn o're that place of her birth,
And said amongst Femens was not on the earth,
Her superiour in fancy, in language, or wit,
Yett own'd that a little too loosly she writt . . .
But now to proceed, and their merritts to know,
Before he on any, the Bay's wou'd bestow,
He order'd them each, in their several way,
To show him their papers, to sing, or to say . . .