Here you will find the Poem To my Sister Anne King, who chid me in verse for being angry of poet Henry King
Dear Nan, I would not have thy counsel lost, Though I last night had twice so much been crost; Well is a Passion to the Market brought, When such a treasure of advice is bought With so much dross. And could'st thou me assure, Each vice of mine should meet with such a cure, I would sin oft, and on my guilty brow Wear every misperfection that I ow, Open and visible; I should not hide But bring my faults abroad: to hear thee chide In such a Note, and with a Quill so sage, It Passion tunes, and calmes a Tempests rage. Well I am charm'd, and promise to redress What, without shrift, my follies doe confess Against my self: wherefore let me intreat, When I fly out in that distemper'd heat Which frets me into fasts, thou wilt reprove That froward spleen in Poetry and Love: So though I lose my reason in such fits, Thoul't rime me back again into my wits.
