me (his slave) descried

    In Marss livery, prancing in the press,

    quot; no; said ;I would no less:

    Look ; I lookd, and StELLA spied,

    .

    My  then dazzled were mine eyes;

    One  to rule, to fight;

    Nor trumpets sound I heard, nor friendly cries.

    My foe came on, and beat the air for me --

    till t o see.

    VII

    No more, my dear, no more try;

    O give my passions leave to run their race;

    Let Fortune lay on me  disgrace;

    Let folk oer-c me cry;

    Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye;

    Let me no steps, but of lost labour, trace;

    Let all t my case --

    But do not o fly.

    I do not envy Aristotles ,

    Nor do aspire to Caesars bleeding fame;

    Nor aug;

    Nor o frame,

    But t w:

    t my , and tue art.

    VIII

    Love still a boy, and oft a on, is,

    Scender eye;

    hen, if he his lesson miss,

    a rod dear play ry?

    And yet my StAR, because a sugard kiss

    In sport I suckd, while she asleep did lie,

    Dot, for only this.

    S, it  humble I.

    But no `scuse serves; sh appear

    In beautys throne -- see now, who dares come near

    t judges, tning bloody pain?

    O  kiss-hy face

    Anger invests h such a lovely grace,

    t angers self I needs must kiss again.

    IX

    I never drank of Aganippe well,

    Nor ever did in sempe sit,

    And Muses scorn o dwell;

    Poo