To the Sacred Maiesty of King IAMES

To thee I dare not Dedicate my booke,
Yet humbly, high my low inuention Ames,
That with thy Gracious view (dread royal IAMES)
Thou wilt bee pleas'd my lines to ouer-looke.
A candle lights, when Phoebus hath forsooke
To guilde the day with vniuersall flames:
And glim'ring glances of the humed Thames
Aspects, and obiects to the sight haue strooke.
So mighty Soueraigne, and most Learned King,
When sweete Arions Harpe, Amphions Lute,
Are silent sleeping in their Cases mute:
Vouchsafe to heare thy Scullers Muse to singe;
And let Pans Pipe, obtaine a little grace,
When Great Appolloes Harpe is out of place.