To the Lady Mary Villars, Governesse to the Princesse Henretta.

WHen I of Villars doe but heare the name,
It calls to mind, that mighty Buckingham,
Who was your brave exalted Uncle here,
(Binding the wheele of Fortune to his Sphere)
Who spurn'd at Envie; and co'd bring, with ease,
An end to all his stately purposes.
For his love then, whose sacred Reliques show
Their Resurrection, and their growth in you:
And for my sake, whoever did prefer
You, above all Those Sweets of Westminster:
Permit my Book to have a free accesse
To kisse your hand, most Dainty Governesse.