Here my Camelion Muse her selfe doth chaunge
to diuers shapes of gross absurdities,
and like an Antick[131] mocks w^{th} fashion straunge
the fond[132] admirers of lewde gulleries.
Your iudgement sees w^{th} pitty, and w^{th} scorne
The bastard Sonnetts of these Rymers bace,
W^{ch} in this whiskinge age are daily borne
To their own shames, and Poetrie's disgrace.
Yet some praise those and some perhappes will praise
euen these of myne: and therefore thes I send
to you that pass in Courte yo^{r} glorious dayes;
Y^{t} if some rich rash gull these Rimes commend
Thus you may sett this formall witt to schoole,
Vse yo^{r} owne grace, and begg him for a foole.