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Poem	Some, when in rhyme they of their loves do tell, With flames and lightnings their exordiums paint; Some call on Heav'n, some invocate on Hell, And Fates and Furies with their woes acquaint. Elysium is too high a seat for me; I will not come in Styx or Phlegethon; The thrice-three Muses but too wanton be; Like they that lust, I care not; I will none. Spiteful Erinnys frights me with her looks; My manhood dares not with foul Ate mell; I quake to look on Hecate's charming books; I still fear bugbears in Apollo's cell. I pass not for Minerva nor Astraea; Only I call on my divine Idea.
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