To the Reader by Robert Allott

I hang no lvie out to sell my Wine,
The Nectar of good witts will sell it selfe;
I feare not what detraction can define,
I saile secure from Envies storme or shelfe
I set my picture out to each mans vewe,
Limd with these colours, and so cunning arts,
That like the Phoenix will their age renewe,
And conquer Envie by their good desarts.
If any Cobler carpe above his shoo,
I rather pittie, then repine his action,
For ignorance stil maketh much adoo,
And wisdom loves that which offends detraction.
Go fearles forth, my booke, hate canot harm thee,
Apollo bred thee, & the Muses arm thee.

From: Collier, J. Payne (ed.), Seven English Poetical Miscellanies, Printed Between 1556 and 1662 (Englands Parnassus compiled by Robert Allott, 1600), Volume 6, 1867, London, p. 36.
(https://archive.org/stream/englandsparnassu00allo#page/n35/mode/2up)

Date: 1600

By: Robert Allott (fl. 1600)

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