LAWRENCE of vertuous Father vertuous Son,   Now that the Fields are dank, and ways are mire,   Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire   Help wast a sullen day; what may be won From the hard Season gaining: time will run   On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire   The frozen earth; and cloth in fresh attire   The Lillie and Rose, that neither sow'd nor spun. What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice,   Of Attick tast, with Wine, whence we may rise   To hear the Lute well toucht, or artfull voice Warble immortal Notes and Tuskan Ayre?   He who of those delights can judge, and spare   To interpose them oft, is not unwise.