Classic Poem

To the Lord Chancellors retinue and attendants

Masters , nay fellowes, though you maisters be,
Fellowes in cloth, though better be your coates,
And fellow Mowse (that pick'st vp many grotes
Lying at the gate) my Muse saluteth yee
The formost of the crew I bidd adue,
Busied too much to read myne idle rimes:
But fellow Cowley (sighing many times
For some great losse) for solace them should view
What great ones are yee gon at first farwell?
Nay take me with yee; Ile not leaue yee so:
Our Lord wee mischiefe must before wee go,
Then let's conspire and keepe him here in hell;
And pray that he may here be pained thus
As long as he may good the Land, and vs.