An Apology

To finish what's begun, was my intent,     My thoughts and my endeavours 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 moe discouragements did speak.     All thoughts of further progress laid aside,     Though oft perswaded, 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:     Nor matter is't this last, the world now sees,     Hath many Ages been upon his knees.