KOSMOBREVIA[Greek], or the infancy of the world With an Appendix of Gods resting day, Edon Garden; Mans Happiness before, Misery after, his Fall. Whereunto is added, The Praise of Nothing; Divine Ejaculations; The four Ages of the world; The Birth of Christ; Also a Century of Historical Applications; With a Taste of Poetical fictions. Written some years since by N. B.[i.e. Nicholas Billingsley] ... And now published at the request of his Friends |
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To the reverend, his much Honored Freind, Mr FRANCIS TAILOUR
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 | KOSMOBREVIA[Greek], or the infancy of the world |  |
69
To the reverend, his much Honored Freind, Mr FRANCIS TAILOUR
Anagr. Al Vain For C(h)rist.
With Paul All Vaine For C(h)rist you doe account.
So shall you to the heigth of glory mount.
So shall you to the heigth of glory mount.
Honored SIR,
The Series of your favours did invite
Mine unfleg'd Muse, to take a sudaine flight,
On Peg'sus wings, 'twas that which did infuse
A quickning life into my dying Muse.
Can Helicon want lucid streames! can I
Be dry of matter, you Mecenas by?
I hate to be ungratefull, if I should
Not make a verse the Rocks and Mountains would:
The sequestration of two hours time
From serious Studies, I imploy'd in Rhime.
Yet Nothing went about, with what I drew
From Nothing, Nothing, I present to you.
Dress'd in a rude, yet in a sober, stile,
Hoping you will at my endeavours smile.
You hate (as wel as I) these dang'rous times,
To cast your eyes on vaine and wanton Rhimes.
And I could gladly spend my flitting dayes
In penning Sonnets to my makers praise.
Mine unfleg'd Muse, to take a sudaine flight,
On Peg'sus wings, 'twas that which did infuse
A quickning life into my dying Muse.
Can Helicon want lucid streames! can I
Be dry of matter, you Mecenas by?
I hate to be ungratefull, if I should
Not make a verse the Rocks and Mountains would:
The sequestration of two hours time
From serious Studies, I imploy'd in Rhime.
Yet Nothing went about, with what I drew
From Nothing, Nothing, I present to you.
70
Hoping you will at my endeavours smile.
You hate (as wel as I) these dang'rous times,
To cast your eyes on vaine and wanton Rhimes.
And I could gladly spend my flitting dayes
In penning Sonnets to my makers praise.
To your protecting wings I therefore fly
For shelter: ah! but when my serious eye
Darts on your worth, and on my selfe looks down,
I feare the wrath of a condemning frown.
Juditious Sir, if that you please t'affect
These embrio-lines 'tis more then I expect.
But yet, I know your candour wil excuse,
Since 'tis an ev'ning, not a morning muse.
I crave not praise, but pardon. I have got
Mountaines of praise if you disdaine me not.
For shelter: ah! but when my serious eye
Darts on your worth, and on my selfe looks down,
I feare the wrath of a condemning frown.
Juditious Sir, if that you please t'affect
These embrio-lines 'tis more then I expect.
But yet, I know your candour wil excuse,
Since 'tis an ev'ning, not a morning muse.
I crave not praise, but pardon. I have got
Mountaines of praise if you disdaine me not.
O may you live unto grand Nestor's day
With silver age, and honor cown'd: so prayes
Your humble servant, whose unbound desire
Is Phenix like, to burne in duties fire:
Whose life's too smal to hazard for your ease,
Sir, I am yours, command me when you please.
With silver age, and honor cown'd: so prayes
Your humble servant, whose unbound desire
Is Phenix like, to burne in duties fire:
Whose life's too smal to hazard for your ease,
Sir, I am yours, command me when you please.
N B.
Wickham-brooks June 5, 1657.
| KOSMOBREVIA[Greek], or the infancy of the world | |