Reliquiae Wottonianae, or, A collection of lives, letters, poems with characters of sundry personages : and other incomparable pieces of language and art : also additional letters to several persons, not before printed / by the curious pencil of the ever memorable Sir Henry Wottan ...

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Title: Reliquiae Wottonianae, or, A collection of lives, letters, poems with characters of sundry personages : and other incomparable pieces of language and art : also additional letters to several persons, not before printed / by the curious pencil of the ever memorable Sir Henry Wottan ...
Author: Wotton, Henry, Sir, 1568-1639.
Publication: London :: Printed by T. Roycroft for R. Marriott, F. Tyton, T. Collins and J. Ford,; 1672.
Rights/Permissions: To the extent possible under law, the Text Creation Partnership has waived all copyright and related or neighboring rights to this keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above, according to the terms of the CC0 1.0 Public Domain Dedication (http://creativecommons.org/publicdomain/zero/1.0/). This waiver does not extend to any page images or other supplementary files associated with this work, which may be protected by copyright or other license restrictions. Please go to http://www.textcreationpartnership.org/ for more information.
Cite this Item: "Reliquiae Wottonianae, or, A collection of lives, letters, poems with characters of sundry personages : and other incomparable pieces of language and art : also additional letters to several persons, not before printed / by the curious pencil of the ever memorable Sir Henry Wottan ..." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A67127.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 23, 2024.

Pages

To a Noble Friend in his Sickness.

UNtimely Feaver, rude insulting guest, (heat•…•…
How didst thou with such unharmonious
Dare to distune his well-composed rest;
Whose heart so just and noble stroaks did beat?

What if his Youth and Spirits well may bear
More thick assaults, and stronger siege then this?
We measure not his courage, but our fear:
Not what our selves, but what the Times may miss.

Had not that blood, which thrice his veins did yield,
Been better treasur'd for some glorious day:
At farthest West to paint the liquid field,
And with new Worlds his Masters love to pay?

But let those thoughts, sweet Lord, repose a while,
Tend only now thy vigour to regain;
And pardon these poor Rimes, that would beguile
With mine own grief, some portion of thy pain.

H. W.