To the Right Honourable HENRY Lord M.

MY thoughts are not so rugged, nor doth earth
So farre predominate in me, that mirth
Lookes not as lovely as when our delight
First fashion'd wings to adde a nimbler flight
To lazie time; who would, to have survai'd
Our varied pleasures, there have ever staid.
And they were harmelesse. For obedience
If frailty yeelds to the wild lawes of sence;
VVe shall but with a sugred venome meete;
No pleasure, if not innocent as sweet.
And that's your choyce: who adde the title good
To that of noble. For although the blood
Of Marshall, Standley, and 'La Pole doth flow
VVith happy Brandon's in your veines; you owe
Your vertue not to them. Man builds alone
Oth' ground of honour: For desert's our ovvne.
Be that your ayme. I'le vvith Castara si…
Ith' shade, from heat of businesse. VVhile my vvit
Is neither big vvith an ambitious ayme,
To build tall Pyramids Ith' court of fame,
For after ages, or to win conceit
Oth' present, and grow in opinion great.
Rich in our selves, we envy not the East,
Her rockes of Diamonds, or her gold the West.
Arabia may be happy in the death
Of her reviving Phaenix, In the breath
Of coole Favonius, famous be the grove
Of Tempe; while we in each others love.
For that let us be fam'd. And when of all
That Nature made us two, the funerall
Leaves but a little dust; (which then as wed,
Even after death, shall sleepe still in one bed.)
The Bride and Bridegroome on the solemne day,
Shall with warme zeale approach our Vrne, to pay,
Their vowes, that heaven should blisse so farre their rites.
To shew them the faire paths to our delights.