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To M.r R. W.
If, as mine is, thy life a slumber bee, [219]
Seeme, when thou readst these lines, to dreame on mee
Never did Morpheus nor his Brother weare
Shapes so like those shapes whome they would appeere
As this my letter is like mee, for it
Hath my name, words, hands, feete, hart mind and witt
It is my deed of gift of mee to thee
It is my will, thy*selfe the Legacy.
So thy retyrings I loue, yea enuy
(Bredd in thee by a wise melancholly)
That I reioyce that vnto where thou art,
Though I stay heere, I can thus send my hart,
As kindly as any enamourd patient
His picture to his absent Loue hath sent.|
All newes, I thinke, sooner reach thee then mee
Hauens ar Heauens, and shipps wingd Angels bee
The w.ch both Gospell and sterne threatnings bring
Guyanas haruest is nipd in the Spring
I feare, And with vs, mee thinkes, fate deales so
As with the Iewes Guide God did. Hee did showe
Him the rich land, but barrd his entry in.
Oh, Slownesse is our punishment and Sinne
Perchance these Spanish businesses beeing donne
(W.ch as the Earth betwixt the Moone and Sunne
Eclipse the light w.ch Guyana would giue)
Our discontinewed hopes wee shall retriue.
But if (as all th' All must) hopes Smoke away
Is not Almighty Vertue an India?
If men bee worlds, there is in every one
Somthing to answere in some proportion
All the worlds riches. And in good men, this
Vertue, our formes forme, and our Soules Soule is.

[CW: Blest are]