To a Lady from whom he received a Silver Pen.

INtending to have try'd
The silver Favour which you gave,
In Ink the shining point I dy'd,
And drench'd it in the sable wave:
When griev'd to be so foully stain'd.
On you it thus to me complain'd.

Suppose you had deserv'd to take
From her fair hand so fair a boon;
Yet how deserved I to make
So ill a change, who ever won
Immortal praise for what I wrought,
Instructed by her Noble thought?

I that expressed her commands
To mighty Lords and Princely Dames,
Always most welcome to their hands,
Proud that I would record their names,
Must now be taught an humble stile
Some meaner Beauty to beguile.

So I, the wronged Pen to please,
Make it my humble thanks express
Unto your Ladyship in these:
And now 'tis forced to confess,
That your great self did nere indite,
Nor that to one more Noble write.