To King James
How, best of kings, dost thou a sceptre bear!
How, best of poets, dost thou laurel wear!
But two things, rare, the Fates had in their store,
And gave thee both, to show they could no more.
For such a poet, while thy days were green,
Thou wert, as chief of them are said t'have been.
And such a prince thou art, we daily see,
As chief of those still promise they will be.
Whom should my muse then fly to, but the best
Of kings for grace; of poets for my test?
How, best of poets, dost thou laurel wear!
But two things, rare, the Fates had in their store,
And gave thee both, to show they could no more.
For such a poet, while thy days were green,
Thou wert, as chief of them are said t'have been.
And such a prince thou art, we daily see,
As chief of those still promise they will be.
Whom should my muse then fly to, but the best
Of kings for grace; of poets for my test?
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