To The Honoured Author Of THE ROYAL MASTER

Dear Friend, I joy my love hath found the means
To wait upon, and vindicate thy scenes
From some few scruples of the weaker sex,
Whose nicer thoughts their female minds perplex:
(For man he sinks if he but censure, none
Dare deprave Kings' Inauguration.)
Say they, what makes the King in his dispose
So icy-temper'd as he frankly throws
Freedom on all except himself? contrives
The way for other men to purchase wives?
Takes joy to forward propagation,
By nuptial knot, yet to himself ties none?
Pretty, poor fools, and virgins, how your kind,
Vulgar-like, are in apprehension blind!
Come, read: you'll see, when you this piece peruse,
The Royal M ASTER'S spouse is Shirley's Muse.
Why then to him and her an altar raise:
Tapers are set, flaming with equal praise:
See, see, his Genius gracefully doth bend
To the just vote of every loving friend;
The elevated circle is upheld
Betwixt the binal cherubs palms, beheld
By all judicious eyes; the heart, the voice
Of all ingenious do applaud the choice
Of your great Royal M ASTER , say they've found
Two Monarchs with one glorious laurel crown'd.
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