Pilfer, alas, a little wit from you;
* I meane from one page which shall paste strings in a booke1
70But hardly* much; and yet I think this true;
As Sibyls was, your booke is mysticall,
For every peece is as much worth as all.
Therefore mine impotency I confesse,
The healths which my braine bears must be far lesse:
75Thy Gyant-wit'orethrowes me, I am gone;
And rather then read all, I would reade none.
I. D.