To his deservedlie honored frend, Mr. Edward Allane, the first founder and Master of the Colleige of Gods Gift.

Some greate by birth or chance, whom fortune blindes,
Where (if it were) trew vertue wold burst forth,
They, sense not haveing, can afford no worth,
And by their meanes doe but condemne their myndes.
To honour such I should disgrace my penne,
Who might prove more, I count them lesse then men.
But thee to praise I dare be bould indeede,
By fortunes strictnesse whilst at first suppress'd,
Who at the height of that which thou profess'd
Both ancients, moderns, all didst farr exceede:
Thus vertue many ways may use hir pow'r;
The bees draw honnie out of evrie flow'r.
And when thy state was to a better chang'd,
That thou enabled wast for doing goode,
To clothe the naked, give the hungrie foode,
As one that was from avarice estrang'd:
Then what was fitt thou scorn'd to seeke for more,
Whilst bent to doe what was design'd before.
Then prosecute this noble course of thyne
As prince or priest for state, in charge though none,
For acting this brave part, when thou art gone,
Thy fame more bright then sonnes' more high shall shyne,
Since thou turnd great, who this worlds stage doe trace,
With whom it seemes thou hast exchangd thy place.