Poem 2 From Pierce Penilesse

Perusing yesternight with idle eyes,
  The Fairy Singers stately tuned verse:
And viewing after Chap-mens wonted guise,
  What strange contents the title did rehearse.
I streight leapt ouer to the latter end,
  Where like the queint Comædians of our time,
That when their Play is doone do fal to ryme,
  I found short lines, to sundry Nobles pend.
Whom he as speciall Mirrours singled fourth,
  To be the Patrons of his Poetry;
I read them all, and reuerenc't their worth,
  Yet wondred he left out thy memory.
  But therefore gest I he supprest thy name,
  Because few words might not co[m]prise thy fame.