Angliæ speculum: or Englands looking-glasse.: Devided into two pats [sic], / by C.VV. Mercer.

To the Curteous Reader.

THou sees I stand resolved to defend What ever cursed malice dare pretend: But cannot stil be present when they vent And spit the venom of their discontent: Therefore in absence must appeal to thee, For to assist if any injures me. It is a thing so common to deride, And throw a book disdainfully aside, Or if they fortune for to see a name, And hate the author, thats enough for them They take no notice though the thing be just, Mislikes the bearer, therefore cannot trust, But more allowance I presume to take, They will beleeve me for my matters sake: Nor do I strive to elevate my words, Nor counterfet, but what the truth affords, Nor have Is kill, nor knowledge for to skan, Nor dare I flatter such a faithfull man, Nor have I practice for to put in verse, Nor wit enough his vertues to rehearse, As for my learning, to my shame I speak it, I may begin, and go to school to seek it: And dare protest for each year of my age, I never read of verses not a page:

And Poets, whence I challenge no discent, Though scarce of matter, meerly they invent, But I a stranger to that stock, which sprung From out Parnassus, and my muse so young, She never suckt the sisters sacred font, Nor d d repair the place where they were wont To walk upon, to imitate those nine: Such is this ill bred bastard muse of mine: She knowes of nothing, but usurps the name, Presumes to ryme, since reckoned one of them; Yet both of us you see are so well bred, That we have written more then we have read But famous poets furnisht with those parts, Of Natures gifts, and garnisht with the arts Of learning fully, they can so indite, As if it all were reall, that they write: They can bring fictions far above the sky, And forge inventions, but so cannot I: I tell of nothing but what you have seen, Nor prophecy, but tell you what hath been: And heres my comfort, I have such a theame In entermedling with this Noble Name, That not a man will murmure if he see Me do my best, although in small degree, Because they know I cannot well eclips Those high conceptions entered in the lips

Of all that lives, exceeding so his sex, And in the Name of E. S. S. E. X. That let me labour either more or lesse, This very name all noblenesse expresse: Therefore 'tis folly for to crave thy aid To pay this debt, which never can be paid: For let me speak, and all my spirits spend, And ever write, and never make an end: Yet in that boundlesse Ocean of his worth I may well enter, cannot set it forth, And seeking for to satisfie my mind, I well may wander, but I cannot find The thing I seek, and therefore will forbeare, Can go no further, I must rest me here.

W. M.