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To my Deare, J.[ane] P.[ulter], M.[argaret] P.[ulter], P.[enelope] P.[ulter] they beeing at London, I at Bradfield

Come my Deare Children to this lonely Place,
Where Grayes coole stupifying spring doth Trace,
Trust mee I think,I of this Fount pertake;
I am soe dull; and such sad fancies make
Nor can the Quintissence of Bacchus Liquor, 5
Nor the Elixer, make my spirit quicker.
Those Gross extractions doth my thoughts annoy;
Tis fasting fancies are my souls sole Joy.
When my freed soul, flies to her place of Birth;
Then am I brave, my foot then spurns this Earth. 10
My mind being rais'd above these Worldly jars;
Mee thinks I play at football withe the stars
Contemning all these Garish empty toyes,
My thoughts are fixt on true Celestiall Joyes
Come then, Exhillerate my drooping spirit, 15
Soe may you those Eternall Joyes inherit:
Soe may there ever in your happy breast,
Those blessed Jemms, Joy and Peace still rest.
Then when Astrea, with her sacred charms
Hath thrown you in mild mercies downey armes, 20
O're Look'd by Providance, allurd by Love;
To those Immortall Mansions above,
Then when Each Element its part shall claim,
May you all live in Glory and in Fame.