A Prophesie of Cadwallader, last King of the Britaines Containing a Comparison of the English Kings, with many worthy Romanes, from William Rufus, till Henry the fift. Henry the fift, his life and death. Foure Battels betweene the two Houses of Yorke and Lancanster. The Field of Banbery. The losse of Elizabeth. The praise of King Iames. And lastly a Poeme to the yong Prince [by William Harbert] |
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TO THE IVDICIOVS Reader.
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 | A Prophesie of Cadwallader, last King of the Britaines |  |
TO THE IVDICIOVS Reader.
I Which in bloudy warres haue sleep'd my pen,
Whose Muse the passing bell of peace did wring,
And how the world did loose a world of men,
Now chuse to touch a more concordant string,
My Prince his prayse, whose prayse Ile euer sing.
Tis no mechanicke hope of hired gaine
That mou'd my minde these labours to sustaine.
Whose Muse the passing bell of peace did wring,
And how the world did loose a world of men,
Now chuse to touch a more concordant string,
My Prince his prayse, whose prayse Ile euer sing.
Tis no mechanicke hope of hired gaine
That mou'd my minde these labours to sustaine.
No, that ignoble basenesse I abiure,
It was the loue I euer bare the place
Where first I breathed life did me allure,
In pleasant paines for to consume a space,
And her to prayse, though with mine owne disgrace:
With my disgrace, why? though my verse be ill,
I do not doubt to please the good with will.
It was the loue I euer bare the place
Where first I breathed life did me allure,
In pleasant paines for to consume a space,
And her to prayse, though with mine owne disgrace:
With my disgrace, why? though my verse be ill,
I do not doubt to please the good with will.
To thee Iudicious Reader do I send
These fruites of youth, tis thee I hope to please:
If that my muse the ignorant offend,
No lines of mine their fury shall appease,
I set iust warre before an vniust peace,
I rayle not I, though I with Plato say,
To please the wise, must bee the wisest way.
These fruites of youth, tis thee I hope to please:
If that my muse the ignorant offend,
No lines of mine their fury shall appease,
I set iust warre before an vniust peace,
I rayle not I, though I with Plato say,
To please the wise, must bee the wisest way.
| A Prophesie of Cadwallader, last King of the Britaines | |