 | Cinthia's revenge : Or Maenanders extasie |  |
To his Endeered Author.
Long let thy Muse her wished seate inioy,Into whose breast shee fertill store doth bring,
Which makes thy penne the cause of her imploy,
By pleasing stile and Poems shee doth sing;
Amidst whose lines sweete Laurels vp are sprung
Which doe adorne their sole effectiue stemme
As flexile branches, fittest to be wrung
Into that forme, of Poets Diademme.
What shall I need then to inuoke at all?
Or wish applause from out the vulgar crue?
I leaue such praise to men iudiciall:
They giue each worke that to it selfe is due,
Whose lauding palmes, might ymp an Authors Pen,
And raise a Phœnix from a silly Wren.
Tho: Danet.
| Cinthia's revenge : Or Maenanders extasie | |