University of Virginia Library


2

Upon the Dedicatorie.

I heare one aske me, if I could finde none,
To dedicate this Poeme to, but one
That's now transplanted to another sphere,
And better measures sings then anie's here.
Its true indeede, the world's large and wide,
And many were there I confesse beside,
My now deceased-Patron, I could finde,
But none so well agreeing with my minde;
He was one that I honour'd, and his worth
Deseru'd a pregnant Muse to set it forth,
Which though I haue not I will shew my best,
To crowne him sleeping in the bed of rest,
Where, while I write, my passion shall appere,
By each lines accent mixed with a tere:
But you will lay this subiect cannot moue,
Such firme impression, cause it treats of loue,
A sadder straine would better fitting be
“Drain'd from the streames of graue Melpomene,
Where euery sentence might that passion breede,
“as if himselfe were here portraide indeed;
This I could doe and so expresse him too
(But that his worth would be a shame to you.

3

That are desertlesse to see him by Fate
Lopt, that has left you much to imitate,
Of honour I dare say, (which ere 't be long,
“May be a subiect to a better song.)
But I would haue you know how ere this is,
It was from th' cradle nat'ralized his:
Nor would I raze my Patrons dedicate,
“How ere he seem'd to be obscur'd by Fate,
But as I lou'd him liuing, my desire
Is to expresse my loue vnto him higher
Being now dead; that though my friend be gone,
Yet life and death to friendship may be one:
For th' print of loue if it be stampt aright,
Is most in heart when it is least in sight.
FINIS.