Let not your slights or nescio's (though most just)
60Condemn my muse to be enseil'd with dust,
Nor let presumption hoist to your embrace.
But rather let your honour bate its place
And stoop unto my measures, since the name
Of patron awes oft times the breath of fame;
And by this honour shall you e'er engage
The knee, hand, duty, air, and thriving age
Of your honour's ever
humbly devoted,