Classic Poem

Madam,
Since every place you blesse, the name
This Book assumes may justlier claim,
(What more a Court then where you shine?
And where your soul, what more divine?)
You may perhaps doubt at first sight,
That it usurps upon your right;
And praising vertues that belong
To you in others, doth yours wrong;
No, 'tis your self you read, in all
Perfections earlier Ages call
Their own; all Glories they e're knew
Were but faint Prophecies of you.
You then have here sole Int'rest whom 'tis meant
As well to entertain, as represent.