The Conserves. 1676

WHEN Angels did on Earth appear,
The glitt'ring Strangers treated were.
Which they vouchsaf'd only to shew
Poor Mortals what they ought to do.
They graciously made their resorts
To Threshing-floors, as well as Courts.
Where're these shining Guests appear'd,
Immediately were Altars rear'd.
On which at once their thanks they pay'd,
And for a second blessing pray'd.

Madam, there may be well suppos'd
Some curious Confects here inclos'd.
And bolder Poets dare reherse,
No Conserves like to those of Verse.
But nothing here deserves that name,
Unless 'tis borrow'd from my Theme.
And that affords such glorious prize,
It may claim favour from your Eyes.
Impute not, Madam, this to pride;
You, and my Theme are near ally'd;
As near as those rich Gardens were
To th' Golden Apples they did bear.