To his Closet-Gods.

WHen I goe Hence ye Closet-Gods, I feare
Never againe to have ingression here:
Where I have had, what ever thing co'd be
Pleasant, and precious to my Muse and me.
Besides rare sweets, I had a Book which none
Co'd reade the Intext but my selfe alone.
About the Cover of this Book there went
A curious-comely clean Compartlement:
And, in the midst, to grace it more, was set
A blushing-pretty-peeping Rubelet:
But now'tis clos'd; and being shut, & seal'd,
Be it, O be it, never more reveal'd!
Keep here still, Closet-gods, 'fore whom I've set
Oblations oft, of sweetest Marmelet.