Printed for _Roger Barnes_, and are to be sold at his shop in Chancery lane, ouer against the Rolles. 1611. TO THE HEROICKE HE ros, Henry Earle of Oxenford, _Vicount Bulbeck_, &c. _Sir, if my unpolish't pen, that dedicates new The bashfull utterance of a maiden Muse, May gracefully arrive onely to you, Which for her virgin sake, do not refuse, Time, and more studious howers shall we vow, To sing your vertues, which are now profuse. Kings haue drunke water from a louing hand, And truth's accepted, though we paint her poore. The Poets say, the Gods that can command, Haue feasted gladly on a poore mans store, Whereby great Sir, we haue to understand, That humble Riuers adde to the seashore. Liue long and happy, and with gray haires crown'd, Reade thy youths acts, which fame shall euer sound._ Your honors obseruant seruant, Wil. Barksted. The faire Greeke. 1 Of _Amuraths_ yong spleenfull sonne I sing, His sonne, who to the Strand of _Hellespont_ And to the great Sea-cost his bounds did bring, Whose Empire so the _Grecians_ did confront, That euen from _Pindus_, and _Thomao_ Mont. From darke _Morea_ to _Corinthian_ streights, From _Burgon_ to _Hungaria's_ broken wing, His Nauy fetch'd contributary freights. 2 Yong _Mahomet_, the wanton of her eie, Which teacheth wars, & caught his nonage daies That gaue such hansell of his tyranny, In those first battails, and apprentize sayes, Which did so hotly dart their early rayes, On _Sigismond_, or that wherein was tane, _Philip_ the noble Duke of _Burgondy_, With him kept prisoner, o farre better slaine! 3 Yong _Mahomet_ to _Greece_ the fatall scourge, Which thither death, and desolation brought, Euen to the faire _Constantinoples_ veirdge, The _Grecian_ Empires chaire, the which he sought For which a huge digested army fought. And at the last, distressed _Constantine_, And of all Christians did the Citty purge, O shame to _Europes_ Peeres, and Kings diuine. 4 Let _Italy_ take heed, the New-moone threats, To reare his hornes on _Romes_ great Capitall, And doth not _Rome_ deserue such rough defeats, That should be mother of compassion all? And couenite the states, and principall In league, and loue, which now for trifles iarre, The _Persian Sophy_ shames our Christian feats, Who with the _Souldan_ ioynes gainst _Turkish_ war. 5