Moft Illuftrious and Moft Hopefull the way: Who are my Works Creator, and alone And look how all those heavenly Lamps acquire Sing of Brooks, of Bloffomes, Birds, and Bowers: Of April, May, of June, and July- I fing of May-poles, Hock-carts, Waffails, Wakes, B W To his Mufe. Hither, mad Maiden, wilt thou roame ? Farre fafer 'twere to stay at home; Where thou mayft fit, and piping please The poore and private Cottages. May take the simple Villages. But for the Court, the Country wit Is despicable unto it. Stay then at home, and doe not goe No Critick haunts the Poore mans Cell : By no one tongue, there, censured. That man's unwife will search for Ill, And may prevent it, fitting still. |