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| To the Countesse of B. |
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| T'haue written then when you wrote, seemd to mee [222] |
| Worst of spirituall Vices symony |
| And not t'haue written then is little lesse |
| Then worst of ciuill Vices, Thanklesnesse. |
| In this my debt I seemd loth to confesse |
| In that I seemd to shunn Beholdingnesse. |
| But tis not so. Nothings, as I am, may |
| Pay all they haue, and yet haue all to pay, |
| Such borrow in theyr payments, and owe more |
| By hauing leaue to write so, then before. |
| Yet since rich mines in barren grounds are showne |
| May not I yeeld (not Gold) but cole or stone? |
| Temples were not demolishd though profane |
| Heere Peter Ioues, there Paule hath Dians fane: |
| So whether my Hymnes you admitt or choose |
| In mee you haue hallowed a pagan Muse |
| And denized a stranger, who, (mis-taught |
| By Blamers of the times they marr'd,) hath sought |
| Vertues in Corners, w.ch now brauely doe |
| Shine in the worlds best parts, or All it, you. |
| I haue bin told that Vertue in Courtiers harts |
| Suffers an ostracisme and departs |
| Profit, ease, fitnesse, plenty bidd it goe |
| But whither, onely knowing you, knowe |
| your, (or you,) Vertue two vast vses serues |
| It ransoms one Sexe, and one Court preserues. |
| There's nothing but yor worth, w.ch (beeing true) |
| Is knowne to any other not to you, |
| And you can never knowe it, to admitt |
| No knowledge of yor worth is some of it. |
| but since to you |yor| prayses Discords bee |
| Stoope others ills to meditate with mee.
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[CW: Oh to ____] |