I have not given it that right which doth belong,
For which I am half guilty of detraction:
Yet had I wrote all things that there I saw,
Misjudging censures would suppose I flatter,
And so my name I should in question draw,
Where asses bray, and prattling pies do chatter:
Yet (armed with truth) I publish with my pen,
That there the Almighty doth his blessings heap,
In such abundant food for beasts and men;