English poem
Pardon my boldnesse, my Liedge Soueraine Lord
Pardon my boldnesse, my Liedge Soueraine Lord, Nor your Dread presence let my speech offend, Your milde attention, fauourably affoord, Which, such cleere vigour to my spirit shall lend, That it shall set an edge vpon your Sword, To my demand, and make you to attend, Asking you, why, men train'd to Armes you keepe, Your right in France yet suffering still to sleepe.
More by Michael Drayton
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- Prefixed to Book ij. of Primaleon, &c. Translated by Anthony Munday (1619). - OF THE WORKE and Translation.
- Prefixed to Chapman's Translation of Hesiod's Georgics (1618). - To my worthy friend Mr. George Chapman, and his translated Hesiod.