To Endimion Porter, When my Comedy (call'd the Wits) was presented at Black▪ Fryars.

HEare, how for want of others griefe, I mourne
My sad decay, and weepe at mine owne Ur…e …
The Hou'rs (that ne're want Wings, when they should fly
To hasten Death, or lead on Destinie,)
Have now fulfill'd the time, when I must come
Chain'd to the Muses Barre, to take my doome:
Where ev'ry Terme, some tim'rous Poet stand▪
Condemn'd by whispers, e're repriv'd by hands.
I that am told conspiracies are laid,
To have my Muse, her Arts, and life betray'd,
Hope for no easie Judge; though thou wert there,
T'appease, and make their judgements lesse severe▪
In this black day, like Men from Thunders rage,
Or drowning showres, I hasten from the stage;
And wish my selfe, some Spirit, hid within
Those distant, wandring Winds, that yet have bin
Unknowne to'th Compasse, or the Pilots skill;
Or some loose Plumet, sunke so low, untill
I touch where roots of Rocks deepe bury'd be;
There mourne, beneath the leafelesse Corall Tree.
But I am growne too tame! what need I feare,
Whilst not to passion, but thy reason cleere?
Should I perceive, thy knowledge were subdu'd,
T'unkinde consent with the harsh Multitude,
Then I had cause to weep; and at thy Gate
(Deny'd to enter) stand disconsolate;
Amaz'd, and lost to mine owne Eyes; there I
(Scarce griev'd-for by my selfe) would winke and dye:
Olivia then, may on thy pitty call
To bury me, and give mee funerall.