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| If from th'embrace of a lov'd wife you rise, |
| View your fat Beasts, stretch'd Barnes, and labour'd fields, |
| Eate, play, ride, take all joyes which all day yeelds, |
| And then againe to your imbracements goe: |
| Some houres on us your friends, and some bestow |
| Vpon your Muse, else both we shall repent, |
| I that my love, she that her guifts on you are spent. |
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| To M. I. P. |
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| Blest are your North parts, for all this long time |
| My Sun is with you, cold and darke'is our Clime; |
| Heavens Sun, which staid so long from us this yeare, |
| Staid in your North (I thinke) for she was there, |
| And hither by kinde nature drawne from thence, |
| Here rages chafes and threatens pestilence; |
| Yet I, as long as she from hence doth stay, |
| Thinke this no South, no Sommer, nor no day. |
| With thee my kinde and unkinde heart is runne, |
| There sacrifice it to that beauteous Sunne: |
| So may thy pastures with their flowery feasts, |
| As suddenly as Lard, fat thy leane beasts; |
| So may thy woods oft poll'd, yet ever weare |
| A greene, and (when she list) a golden haire; |
| So may all thy sheepe bring forth Twins; and so |
| In chace and race may thy horse all out-goe; |
| So may thy love and courage ne'r be cold; |
| Thy Sonn ne'r Ward; Thy lov'd wife ne'r seem old; |
| But maist thou wish great things, and them attaine, |
| As thou tell'st her, and none but her my paine.
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[CW: To] |