 | Poems |  |
49
To the King at his entrance into Saxham, by Master Io, Crofts.
Sir,
Ere you passe this threshold, stay,
And give your creature leave to pay
Those pious rites, which unto you,
As to our houshold Gods, are due.
And give your creature leave to pay
Those pious rites, which unto you,
As to our houshold Gods, are due.
In stead of sacrifice, each brest
Is like a flaming Altar, drest
With zealous fires, which from pure hearts
Love mixt with loyaltie imparts.
Is like a flaming Altar, drest
With zealous fires, which from pure hearts
Love mixt with loyaltie imparts.
Incense, nor gold have we, yet bring
As rich, and sweet an offering;
And such as doth both these expresse,
Which is our humble thankfulnesse.
By which is payd the All we owe
To gods above, or men below.
The slaughter'd beast, whose flesh should feed
The hungrie flames, we, for pure need
Dresse for your supper, and the gore
Which should be dasht on every dore.
We change into the lustie blood
Of youthfull Vines, of which a flood
Shall sprightly run through all your veines,
First to your health, then your faire traines.
As rich, and sweet an offering;
And such as doth both these expresse,
Which is our humble thankfulnesse.
By which is payd the All we owe
To gods above, or men below.
The slaughter'd beast, whose flesh should feed
The hungrie flames, we, for pure need
Dresse for your supper, and the gore
Which should be dasht on every dore.
50
Of youthfull Vines, of which a flood
Shall sprightly run through all your veines,
First to your health, then your faire traines.
We shall want nothing but good fare,
To shew your welcome, and our care;
Such rarities that come from farre,
From poore mens houses banisht are;
Yet wee'le expresse in homely cheare,
How glad we are to see you here.
Wee'le have what e're the season yeelds,
Out of the neighbouring woods, and fields;
For all the dainties of your board,
Will only be what those afford;
And having supt, we may perchance
Present you with a countrie dance.
To shew your welcome, and our care;
Such rarities that come from farre,
From poore mens houses banisht are;
Yet wee'le expresse in homely cheare,
How glad we are to see you here.
Wee'le have what e're the season yeelds,
Out of the neighbouring woods, and fields;
For all the dainties of your board,
Will only be what those afford;
And having supt, we may perchance
Present you with a countrie dance.
Thus much your servants, that beare sway
Here in your absence, bade me say,
And beg besides, you'ld hither bring,
Only the mercy of a King;
And not the greatnesse, since they have
A thousand faults must pardon crave;
But nothing that is fit to waite
Vpon the glory of your state.
Yet your gracions favour will,
They hope, as heretofore, shine still
On their endeavours, for they swore
Should Jove descend, they could no more.
Here in your absence, bade me say,
And beg besides, you'ld hither bring,
Only the mercy of a King;
And not the greatnesse, since they have
A thousand faults must pardon crave;
But nothing that is fit to waite
Vpon the glory of your state.
51
They hope, as heretofore, shine still
On their endeavours, for they swore
Should Jove descend, they could no more.
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