 | The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet |  |
[14] To Sir HEYMAN LE-STRANGE.
As doth the purple headed rose prickt inThe tender bosome, of the Paphian Queene,
All beauties of the Garden farre out shine:
So doe those worthy parts, and Arts of thine,
Set thee above most (divine Le-Strange)
That know'st as well to walke the Muses range,
As thine owne groves: and canst without a thred,
Find what in learnings Laberynth is hid.
The age discovers few such men alive,
That rich, can also teach their minds to thrive.
| The Shorter Poems of Ralph Knevet | |