Vpon Master W. Mountague his return from travell.
LEad the black Bull to slaughter, with the Bore
And Lambe, then purple with their mingled gore
The Oceans curled brow, that so we may
The Sea-Gods for their carefull waftage pay:
Send gratefull lncense up in pious smoak
To those mild spirits, that cast a curbing yoak
Vpon the stubborn winds, that calmly blew
To the wisht shore, ou long'd-for Mountague,
Then whilst the Aromantique odours burn,
In honour of their Darling's safe return
The Muses Quire shall thus with voyce and hand,
Bless the fair Gale that drove his ship to land.
Sweetly breathing Vernall Ayr That with kind warmth doest repayr Winters ruines, from whose breast All the gums and spice of th'East Borrow their perfumes, whose eye Gil'ds the morn, and clears the sky,