University of Virginia Library

The Authors Apology.

It was my morning Muse; A Muse whose spirit
Transcends (I feare) the fortunes of her merit;
Too bold a Muse, whose fethers (yet in blood)
She never bath'd in the Pyrenean Flood;
A Muse unbreath'd, unlikely to attaine
An easie honour, by so stout a Traine;
Expect no lofty Hagard, that shall flye
A lessning pitch, to the deceived eye;
If in her Downy Soreage, she but ruffe
So strong a Dove, may it be thought enough;
Beare with her; Time and Fortune may requite
Your patient sufferance, with a fairer flight.