Ye moderne Laureats of this later age,
That liue the worlds admirement for your writ;
And seeme infused with a diuine rage,
To shew the heauenly quintessence of wit:
You on whose weltun'd verse sits princely beautie,
Deckt and adorn'd with heauens eternitie,
See I presume to cote (and all is duetie)
Her graces with my learnings scarsitie.
But if my pen (Marcias harsh-writing quill)
Could feede the feeling of my thoughts desire,
And shew my wit coequall with my will,
Then with you men diuine I would conspire,
In learned poems and sweet poesie,
To send to heauen my Ladies dignitie.