 | Microcosmos |  |
To the right worshipfull & venerable Prelate, Doctor Tompson Deane of VVindsor.
My frend, my father, naie, which is more deere,My selfe should I, ere thee, (belov'd) forgett,
VVhose loue to mee, to mee doth thee indeere,
Whose life my will for like on edge doth sett:
In the vvombe fashiond for a right Divine,
Pleasing to God, to Angells, and to Men;
In whose face vvitt, and pietie doth shine,
To leade the blinde, drawe perverse Bretheren.
An hart of flesh, clos'd in a Brest of Brasse,
To feele Mens paines, and paine endure to ease thē;
Charities Mirror, or thick christal glasse,
Wher-through God: Sū-beams burne what doth disease thē.
Good to the good and badd, to great and small,
And my good freind, though I be worst of all.
I. D.
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