To portract what within this world is best.
So that I cannot chuse but write my minde,
And cannot chuse but put out what I write,
While those poore babes their death in birth doe find;
And now my penne these lynes had dashed quite,
But that they stop his furie from the same:
Because their fore-front beares sweet Stellas name.
Pardon mine eares, both I and they doe pray,
So may your tongue full flauntingly proceede,
To them that doe such entertainments neede;