Classic Poem

To the worthy, ingenious and learned Knight Sr John Harrington, translator of Ariosto.

Deere Knight, thy nature is too like mine owne
To leave thee out of my remembrances:
Thy muse of yore this very way hath flowne,
And plum'd on woodcockes, wrens, and ostridges;
But now my Muse (with pownces not so strong,
Hauing some geese to pull) inuokes thy Muse
To beare the burden of her merry song:
To make them sorry who the world abuse.
 Thine can worke wonders in this kinde, and mine
 (Perhaps) may make them grone she pulls, like thine.