TO THE MOST RENOWMED AND VALIANT LORD, THE LORD GREY OF WILTON, KNIGHT OF THE NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, &C. MOST noble Lord, the pillor of my life, And patrone of my Muses pupillage, Through whose large bountie, poured on me rife, In the first season of my feeble age, I now doe live, bound yours by vassalage: Sith nothing ever may redeeme, nor reave Out of your endlesse debt so sure a gage, Vouchsafe in worth this small guift to receave, Which in your noble hands for pledge I leave Of all the rest that I am tyde t' account: Rude rymes, the which a rustick Muse did weave In savadge soyle, far from Parnasso mount, And roughly wrought in an unlearned loome: The which vouchsafe, dear Lord, your favorable doome. |