The honest ghost or a voice from the vault [by Richard Brathwait] |
Upon his Hon. returne from Ireland.
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The honest ghost | ||
301
Upon his Hon. returne from Ireland.
Vpon his attendance.
My Lord, I thinkeI have more hours attended
Then pearled Rills
From Taurus ere descended.
Still have those rising waters troubled him,
But when He strove a greater man stept in.
Scotch, Irish, English in such numbers came,
As none would deigne to tell your Servants name:
“Well, my good Lord, though you'r the Heir of time,
“That I'm the same, peruse this troth-plight ryme,
Vpon his admittance.
Blessed Patrick, are you comeTo your long-expected home?
None I sweare ere came here
To my leaping heart more deere
Saving my dread Soveraigne
In his wish'd returne from Spaine.
Saile not from us back againe,
Unlesse it bee your Princes aime,
302
“This is the Prayer of your Swaine.
‘'Zlid you've discharg'd that taske for which you went,
Live now unto your owne a President.
The honest ghost | ||