p.
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Poysonus, or Purgatiue, or Cordiall. For knowledg kyndles Calentures in some And is to others As braue as true is that profession than Which yow doe vse to make. That yow know Man. This makes it credible, yow haue dwelt vppon All worthy Bookes, And now are such a one, Actions, are Authors; And of those in you Your friends finde everie day A Mart of new.| Mad paper staie; And grudge not here to burne With all those Sonnetts, whome my braine did create, Att least lye hidd with mee, till thou returne To raggs againe, which is thy Natiue State; Whatt though thou haue enough vnworthynes, To come vnto greate place as others doe, That's mvch, Emboldnes, Pulls, Thrusts, I confes; But tis not all; Thou shouldst bee wicked too And that thou canst not learne; Or not of mee Yett thou wilt goe; goe; since thou goest to her, Who lacks but faultes, to bee a Prince; for shee Truth, whom they dare not pardon, dares prefer. But when thou comst to that perplexing Eie, Which equally claimes loue, and reverence Thou wilt not long dispute itt; Thou wilt die, And havinge little now, haue then no Sence.[CW: Yett.] |
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