| To Mr R: W:| |
| If as myne is thy life a slumber bee [f. 30v] |
| Seeme when thou readst these lines to dreame of mee: |
| Neuer did Morpheus nor his brethren weare |
| Shapes so like those shapes whom they would appeare |
| As this my letter is like mee, for it |
| Hath my name, words, hand, feete, hart, mind, & witt. |
| It is my deede of guift, of mee to thee, |
| It is my will, my selfe the legacee. |
| So thy retyrings I love, yea envy, |
| Bred in thee by a wise Melancholy |
| That I reioyce, yt vnto wher thou art |
| Though I stay here, I can thus send my hart; |
| As kindly as any inamored Patient |
| His Picture to his absent love hath sent. |
| All news I thinke sooner reach thee then mee; |
| Hauens are heauens, & ships wing'd Angels bee |
| The wch both Gospell, & sterne threatnings bringe. |
| Guyanaes haruest is nipt in the Springe |
| I feare: And wth vs (methinks) fate deales so |
| As wth the Iewes Guide, God did: He did show |
| Him ye riche land, but barr'd his entry in. |
| Ah slownes is or punishment & sin. |
| Perchance these Spanish busnesses beeing donne |
| Wch as ye Earth betweene ye Moone & Sonne |
| Eclips the light, wch Guyana would giue |
| Or discontinued hopes we shall retriue. |
| But yf (as all th'All must) hopes smoke away |
| Is not allmighty Vertu an India? |
| If Men be Worlds, ther is in euery one |
| Somthing to'answer in some proportione |
| All the Worlds riches: & in good Men this |
| Vertu or formes forme, & or Soule Soule is.| |