 | The Woman in the Moone |  |
Prologus.
Ovr Poet slumbring in the Muses laps,Hath seene a Woman seated in the Moone,
A point beyond the auncient Theorique:
And as it was so he presents his dreame.
Here in the bounds of fayre Vtopia,
Where louely Nature being onely Queene,
Bestowes such workmanship on earthly mould:
That Heauens themselues enuy her glorious worke.
But all in vaine: for (malice being spent)
They yeeld themselues to follow Natures doome,
And fayre Pandora sits in Cynthias orbe.
This but the shadow of our Authors dreame,
Argues the substance to be neere at hand:
At whose appearance I most humbly craue,
That in your forehead she may read content.
If many faults escape in her discourse,
Remember all is but a Poets dreame,
The first he had in Phœbus holy bowre,
But not the last, vnlesse the first displease.
| The Woman in the Moone | |