University of Virginia Library



To the Author.

Dear Friend, I've view'd thy Book, wherein each Page
Shews me thy Fancy, antidates thy Age.
Thy Epigrams have such Poetick Heat,
As makes their Feet drop Wit instead of Sweat.
So that the Muses say they'l have no Son
But Thee, th' apparent Heire to Helicon:
And if they chance t'adopt a Ganimede,
Their Drink shall be thy Brains, their Cup thy Head.
Jo: Ford.