To that famous Nursery of Learning and Religion, my Mother Exeter Colledge in Oxford, all happinesse by Samuel Austin the Elder

Great Mother of the Muses! (thou whose fame
Hath long time been more glorious by the Name
Of thy Learn’d Rector) let, I humbly pray,
A worthlesse sonne of thine have leave to stray
Abroad with his poore Muse a while, to sing
A timely welcome to the weeping Spring.
Let other Muses that derive their birth
From forraine Springs, or from some baser earth,
Enslave their wits to toyes of Love: but wee
Must be Divine that take our births from thee:
My Muse shall sing of Heav’n, and in thy prayse,
Great ____, shall scorne the momentarie bayes
Of perishing mans applause, which dies away
With those that give’t, but she shall sing a Lay,
While Heav’n-borne wings shall raise thy Name so hie,
_________ it live even through eternitie.

From: Austin, Samuel, Austins Vrania, or, The heauenly muse in a poem full of most feeling meditations for the comfort of all soules, at all times, 2009-10, Text Creation Partnership: Ann Arbor, Michigan and Oxford, p. [unnumbered].
(http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A23268.0001.001)

Date: 1629

By: Samuel Austin the Elder (fl. 1629)