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To finish what’s begun was my intent,
My thoughts and my endeavors 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 more discouragements did speak.
All thoughts of further progress laid aside,
Though oft persuaded, 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:
No matter is’t this last, the world now sees
Hath many Ages been upon his knees.