Epigram 4 (Horsee, my slender muse not learn'd to flye,)

Horsee, my slender muse not learn'd to flye,
But learn'd to speake, & country songs to sing:
Shall giue thy name winges of eternitie.
And liuing glory to thine ashes bring:
Thou which did'st feed the homebred poets pen,
And cheered'st vp his sad and heauy muse,
Take thy reward among no vulgar men,
And these fewe greeting lines doe not refuse,
Which haue no other duety to impart:
Then t'answere high desarts with humble art.