Epigram 25. Of Ashborn

Ashborn (where many years our Cokaines name
Hath been (as Cambden tells us) of some fame)
Though in the Peak thou stand'st, thy fertile ground
(That like a Lover doth embrace thee round)
The Medows needes not envy, which the Thames
Saluteth (in his passage) with his streames.
The banks of Dove we think we do abuse,
If unto those compar'd, of York-shire Ouse.
Our fruitful soil we do prefer to that
Which holy Dee so long hath murmur'd at,
For not affording him a speedier way
To pay his waves to the Virginian Sea.
Severnes and Trent's it envies not and thence
We do conclude yields none preeminence
If I commend too much, 'tis not a skill
I would profess, but onely my good will:
Yet other praises I (to this) could joyn;
If Betty Sheepy would draw better wine.