Then free-borne toile, flee forth with winged Fame
Thy Countries Virgin, thou the first penn’d Booke
That in his Soile, did ever Pilgrime frame
Of curious Travailes; whereon the Learned looke:
Then Knit thy Maiden brow, with Garlands greene,
The first of times, the last this Age hath Seene.
THE AUTHOR TO HIS BOOKE
Go painefull Booke, go plead thy owne Defence,