TO
Reading edition
THE LOVE
OF
ANDRE AND GWEN
If after times Should pay the least attention to these rhymes, I bid them learn 'Tis not my own heart here That doth so often seem to break and burn— O no such thing!— Nor is it my own dear Always I sing: But, as a scrivener in the market-place, I sit and write for lovers, him or her, Making a song to match each lover's case— A trifling gift sometimes the gods confer!
(After STRATO)