To Jos., Lord Bishop Of Exeter.

Whom should I fear to write to if I can Stand before you, my learn'd diocesan? And never show blood-guiltiness or fear To see my lines excathedrated here. Since none so good are but you may condemn, Or here so bad but you may pardon them. If then, my lord, to sanctify my muse One only poem out of all you'll choose, And mark it for a rapture nobly writ, 'Tis good confirm'd, for you have bishop'd it.