Tixall Poetry.
89
Learne to prevent your fatal destinye,
Your present trouble, horrour when you dy.
For if them, as your mammon, you despise,
Youle live in peace, and at your setting rise.
To
H T.
Nature, nor art, (should both contest)
Can help me now, my thoughts fly higher
Then the rash Phaetons request,
Or bold Prometheus for his fier.
Can help me now, my thoughts fly higher
Then the rash Phaetons request,
Or bold Prometheus for his fier.
Such his attempt that would confine
In numbers, what is numberles;
Yet this not alters my designe,
Or makes your merit ere the lesse.
In numbers, what is numberles;
Yet this not alters my designe,
Or makes your merit ere the lesse.
For tis allow'd by full consent,
That good intentions are no sin;
That good intentions are no sin;
m
