Another spoken at the Court to the like purpose.
Prologue.
As all small rivers to the ocean runne,
As to the soveraigne of their silver streames,
As all lesse lights doe borrow of the Sunne,
From whom alone they take their golden beames.
So to this glorious Sunne we pay our light,
Without whose face we live in endlesse night.
O you, on your owne earth soly divine,
Who fill your faire Court with your beames of grace,
With one small glimmering on our pastimes shine,
The Sun barres none the beauty of his face.
Poets that have like Larkes already sung,
Vnto the morning of your prosperous raigne,
Shall with an Angels quill and Cherubs tongue,
Your grace and goodnesse through the world proclaime.
But when you reach the noontyde point, then stay,
And in the height of glory shine for aye.
Epilogue.
Most high and sacred Sir, we now are cast
Low as the earth, strook mute with feare and terror,
Lest through our want of judgement we have past
Words rudely plac't: or duty mixt with error.
The Shepheards Pipe made of an Oaten Reed,
Cannot compare with great Apollos lyre:
Nor should our Muse, that no delight can breed
Vnto your high and Princely eares aspire.
We bring a mite that would present a mine,
Our loves we pay, to whom our lives we owe,
Water we bring, who could affoord it wine,
Our art you see, our hearts we cannot show.
O if we could! we would inrich this place
With joyes essentiall, blessings above measure.
Heaven, Earth, Ayre, Sea, all powre upon your grace,
Their speciall bounties, and their richest treasure.
In our last wish all your desires attaine,
Life, safety, health, with a long-lasting raigne.
