An Apology

To finish what's begun, was my intent,

My thoughts and my endeavours thereto bent;

Essays I many made but still gave out,

The more I mus'd, the more I was in doubt:

The subject large my mind and body weak,

With many moe discouragements did speak.

All thoughts of further progress laid aside,

Though oft perswaded, I as oft deny'd,

At length resolv'd, when many years had past,

To prosecute my story to the last;

And for the same, I hours not few did spend,

And weary lines (though lanke) I many pen'd:

But 'fore I could accomplish my desire,

My papers fell a prey to th'raging fire.

And thus my pains (with better things) I lost,

Which none had cause to wail, nor I to boast.

No more I'le do sith I have suffer'd wrack,

Although my Monarchies their legs do lack:

Nor matter is't this last, the world now sees,

Hath many Ages been upon his knees.