From T. Morley's _First Book of Ballets_ (1595).
Mr. M.D. to the Author.
Such was old _Orpheus_ cunning,
That sencelesse things drew neere him,
And heards of beasts to heare him,
The stock, the stone, the Oxe, the Asse came running,
Morley! but this enchaunting
To thee, to be the Musick-God is wanting.
And yet thou needst not feare him;
Draw thou the Shepherds still and Bonny lasses,
And enuie him not stocks, stones, Oxen, Asses.
Prefixed to Christopher Middleton's _Legend of Humphrey Duke of
Gloucester_ (1600).
To his friend, Master _Chr. M._ his Booke.
Like as a man, on some aduenture bound
His honest friendes, their kindnes to expresse,
T'incourage him of whome the maine is own'd;
Some venture more, and some aduenture lesse,
That if the voyage (happily) be good:
They his good fortune freely may pertake;
If otherwise it perrish in the flood,
Yet like good friends theirs perish'd for his sake.
On thy returne I put this little forth,
My chaunce with thine indifferently to proue,
Which though (I know) not fitting with thy worth,
Accept it yet since it proceedes from loue;
And if thy fortune prosper, I may see
I haue some share, though most returne to thee.
_Mich. Drayton._
Prefixed to John Davies of Hereford; _Holy Roode_ (1609).
_To_ M. IOHN DAVIES, _my good friend_.
_Such men as hold intelligence with Letters,
And in that nice and Narrow way of Verse,
As oft they lend, so oft they must be Debters,
If with the _Muses_ they will haue commerce:
Seldome at _Stawles_, me, this way men rehearse,
To mine _Inferiours_, not unto my _Betters:
_He stales his _Lines_ that so doeth them disperse;
I am so free, I loue not _Golden-fetters_.
And many _Lines_ fore _Writers_, be but Setters
To them which cheate with_ Papers; _which doth pierse,
Our Credits: when we shew our selues Abetters:
To those that wrong our knowledge: we rehearse
Often (my good _Iohn_; and I loue) thy_ Letters_;
Which lend me Credit, as I lend my _Verse_._
Michael Drayton.
Prefixed to Sir David Murray's _Sophonisba_ &c. (1611).
_To my kinde friend_ Da: Murray.
In new attire (and put most neatly on)
Thou _Murray_ mak'st thy passionate Queene apeare,
As when she sat on the Numidian throne,
Deck'd with those Gems that most refulgent were.
So thy stronge muse her maker like repaires,
That from the ruins of her wasted vrne,
Into a body of delicious ayres:
Againe her spirit doth transmigrated turne,
That scortching soile which thy great subiect bore,
Bred those that coldly but exprest her merit,
But breathing now vpon our colder shore,
Here shee hath found a noble fiery spirit,
Both there, and here, so fortunate for Fame,
That what she was, she's euery where the same.