To Lucy, Countesse of Bedford,
with M. Donnes Satyres.
L VCY, you brightnesse of our Spheare, who are
Life of the Muses day, their morning Starre!
If works (not th'Authors) their own grace should look
Whose poems would not wish to be your book?
But these, desir'd by you, the makers ends
Crown with their own. Rare Poems ask rare friends.
Yet, Satyres, since the most of mankind bee
Their unavoided subject, fewest see: