Sir
That you may see your Letters use
both to transferr your verse, and Muse,
and bring with them soe fresh a heate
able new Poems to begett,
(Yet such as may noe more compare
with yours, then ecchoing voyces dare)
I from my prose and fryday tyme
cannot but send thus much in ryme;

S r your grave Author had noe cause
to give our sense of seing, Lawes,
for sure ill eyes will sooner neede
Medicines, to judge of Grayhounds speede,
then other rules, since who is hee
soe inward blind as not to see
that overtaking goinge by,
Doeth cleerely shew wher odds doeth lie,
Nor hath the eye an object more
distinct then this, in all itts power,
All Judgment els (I thinke) but this
A little too uncertaine is,
To overrule a favouring Eye
and partiall myndes to satisfye,
And I count nothing victory,
But when all clamor too doeth die;
In all Romanses, the good Knight
with Monsters (after men) doeth fight
Then you have fully gote the feild
When Phillip and James white doe yeeld,
Soe likewise nothinge can adorne
our tryumph, but your captiv'd horne,
You have noe cause to feare that wee
Will still appeale to Salisbury,
the Paddock course, and dyetting,
shall wee for wanton say a thinge
w ch for the worst curr might be sayd
w ch ever yet in slipp was lead,
Noe, from a streight course at the hare
Lies noe appeale att any barre;
In one thinge only I foresee
Wanton will still unhappy bee,
Snapp will live in yr. Poetry
When wanton and my verses dye.