The Poems of William Smith Edited by Lawrence A. Sasek |
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TO THE MOST EXCELLENT and learned Shepheard Collin Cloute.
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 | The Poems of William Smith |  |
35
TO THE MOST EXCELLENT and learned Shepheard Collin Cloute.
Collin my deere and most entire beloued,
My muse audatious stoupes hir pitch to thee,
Desiring that thy patience be not moued
By these rude lines, written heere you see,
Faine would my muse whom cruell loue hath wronged,
Shroud hir loue labors vnder thy protection,
And I my selfe with ardent zeale haue longed,
That thou mightst knowe to thee my true affection.
Therefore good Collin, graciously accept
A few sad sonnets, which my muse hath framed,
Though they but newly from the shell are crept,
Suffer them not by enuie to be blamed.
But vnderneath the shadow of thy wings
Giue warmth to these yong-hatched orphan things.
My muse audatious stoupes hir pitch to thee,
Desiring that thy patience be not moued
By these rude lines, written heere you see,
Faine would my muse whom cruell loue hath wronged,
Shroud hir loue labors vnder thy protection,
And I my selfe with ardent zeale haue longed,
That thou mightst knowe to thee my true affection.
Therefore good Collin, graciously accept
A few sad sonnets, which my muse hath framed,
Though they but newly from the shell are crept,
Suffer them not by enuie to be blamed.
But vnderneath the shadow of thy wings
Giue warmth to these yong-hatched orphan things.
Giue warmth to these yoong-hatched orphan things,
Which chill with cold to thee for succour creepe,
They of my studie are the budding springs,
Longer I cannot them in silence keepe.
They will be gadding sore against my minde.
But curteous shepheard, if they run astray
Conduct them, that they may the path way finde,
And teach them how, the meane obserue they may.
Thou shalt them ken by their discording notes,
Their weedes are plaine, such as poore shepheards weare.
Vnshapen, torne, and ragged are their cotes,
Yet foorth they wandring are deuoid of feare.
They wich haue tasted of the muses spring,
I hope will smile vpon the tunes they sing.
Which chill with cold to thee for succour creepe,
They of my studie are the budding springs,
Longer I cannot them in silence keepe.
They will be gadding sore against my minde.
But curteous shepheard, if they run astray
Conduct them, that they may the path way finde,
And teach them how, the meane obserue they may.
Thou shalt them ken by their discording notes,
Their weedes are plaine, such as poore shepheards weare.
36
Yet foorth they wandring are deuoid of feare.
They wich haue tasted of the muses spring,
I hope will smile vpon the tunes they sing.
Finis.
W. Smith.
| The Poems of William Smith | |