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Poem	LIII. — TO OLDEND GATHERER. Long-gathering OLDEND, I did fear thee wise, When having pill'd a book which no man buys, Thou wert content the author's name to lose ; But when, in place, thou didst the patron's choose, It was as if thou printed hadst an oath, To give the world assurance thou wert both ; And that, as puritans at baptism do, Thou art the father, and the witness too. For, but thyself, where, out of motley, 's he Could save that line to dedicate to thee ?
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