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To Mr E. G.|
Euen as lame things thirst their perfection, so [f. 30]
The slimy rimes bred in or vale below,
Bearing wt them much of my love & hart
Fly vnto that Parnassus, wher thou art.
There thou oreseest London: Here I haue beene
By staing in London too much overseene.
Now pleasures dirth or City doth posses
Or Theaters are filld wth emptines.
As lancke & thin is euery street & way
As a Woman deliuerd yesterday.
Nothing wherat to laugh my spleene espyes
But bearbaitings or law exercise.
Therfore Ile leaue it, and in ye Cuntry strive
Pleasure, now fled frō London, to retrive.
Do thou so to: and fill not like a Bee
Thy thighs wth hony, but as plenteously
As Russian Marchants, thy selfes whole vessell load,
And then at Winter retaile it here abroad.
Blesse vs wt Suffolks Sweets; & as yt is
Thy garden, make thy hive & warehouse this.