By th' tide of custome: Which I value more
Then what blind superstitious fooles adore,
Who greatnesse in the chaire of blisse enthrone.
Greatnesse we borrow, Vertue is our owne.
In thy attempt be prosperous, and when ere
Thou shalt prefix the houre; may Hymen weare
His brightest robe; where some fam'd Persian shall
Worke by the wonder of her needle all
The nuptiall joyes; which (if we Poets be
True Prophets) bounteous heaven designes for thee.