My Muse did purpose with a pious strife To have trac'd out my sinlesse Saviours life: But thou hadst lanch'd into the Maine (I heare) Before my Barke was rigg'd; which shall forbeare To interrupt so prais'd an enterprize, ('Bout which with Quarles no quarrells shall arise) Ply then thy steerage, while deficient gales My wishes still supply, and swell thy sailes.
