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)
