University of Virginia Library

THE FAREWEL TO HIS MUSE.

Sweet wanton Muse, that, in my greatest griefe,
Wast wont to bring me solace and reliefe.
Wonted by sea and land to make me sporte,
Whether to camp or court I did resorte:
That at the plow hast been my wellcom guest,
Yea to my wedlock bed hast boldly prest;
At Eton now (where first we met) I leave thee,
Heere shall my sonn and heire of me receave thee.
Now to more serious thoughts my soule aspyers,
This age, this minde, a Muse awsteare requiers.
Now for those fayned joyes true joyes do spring,
When I salute my sovraigne lord and king.
Now we may tell playn truth to all that ask,
Our love may walke bare-faste without a mask.
My future age to realme and king I vow,
I may no time for wanton toyes alow.
Ever I wish, and only, him to serve,
Only his love ever I would deserve.
If he be pleasd war to proclayme with Spaine,
With such a prince I'le follow wars agayne.
If his great wisdome th'auncient peace renews,
How fayn of peace would I reporte the news.
List he give lawes to th'Irish, now well tamed,
I could give sound advises, and unblamed.
To build some statelie house is his intention,
Ah, in this kinde I had too much invention!
Will he suppress those that the land oppress,
A foe to them, myselfe I still profess.
Liste he to write or study sacred writte;
To heere, reade, learn, my breeding made me fitt.
What he commaunds, I'le act without excuse,
That's full resolvd: farewell, sweet wanton Muse!