 | Love Crownes the End |  |
To the honor'd Patron of his Book.
SIR,
As my service binds me and my love,(May your faire selfe so of the same approve)
As your deservings, I have plac'd you here
Equall with Phœbus in his Hemisphere,
Where your refulgent brightnesse cast's a light
Into these twinkling Lamps, and give's them sight.
Minerva bad me tell you she is proud
Of those deserts which in your brest doe crowd
As in a throng, which our capacity
Not able to finde out, leave's to her eye.
Thrice worthy Hero, may your Halcion dayes
Be ne're extinct till crazie Time decayes.
Jo. Tatham.
| Love Crownes the End | |