University of Virginia Library



An Epistle.

And now comes creeping old Endymion,
Leauing Mysteries Theologicall,
Scarce worth the rotten earth he treadeth on,
And tells strange Tales Philosophicall,
Anatomizing th'uniuersall round,
and whatsoeuer may therein be found.
He pipeth in his homely Countrey Reed,
Made of an olde Aristotelian Quill,
He kens no Crochets of contentious breed,
Nor ha's that Quintessentiated skill,
He ha's no fine Dichotomizing wit,
Such musicke as he learn'd, he descants it.
You mightie Ladies that seeken repaste,
When weightie causes haue your Spirits tyr'd,
Rest here your wearied lims, and take a taste,
Here view the works of God so much admyr'd.
And fit your selues of Byrds, of Beasts, of Fish,
Twist Laurell Garlands, as your hearts can wish.
High-pryz'd Ourania, let her liue with you,
And shield her from surprizing infamie,
That vertue entertaines with frowning brow,
And learning scorns as pining beggerie,
Making more reckoning of a golden Asse,
Then of Trisinegist-Cælestiall-Atlas.
Endymion vow's if Fates doe sort aright,
With Corollaries of a laurell Twine,
That shall endure th'euerlasting light,
Hee'll shortly dignifie your princely shrine.
Mean-while all honor shal your states attend,
Blest be your life, and happie be your end.
N. B.