What patron could I choose, great Lord, but you?

What patron could I choose, great Lord, but you?
Grave words your years may challenge as their own:
And every note of music is your due,
Whose house the Muses' Palace I have known.
To love and cherish them, though it descends
With many honours more on you, in vain
Preceding fame herein with you contends,
Who hath both fed the Muses and their train.

These leaves I offer you, Devotion might
Herself lay open. Read them, or else hear
How gravely, with their tunes, they yield delight
To any virtuous and not curious ear:
Such as they are, accept them, noble Lord:
If better, better could my zeal afford.