To Everlasting Oblivion

Thou mighty gulf, insatiate cormorant

Deride me not, thought i seem petulant

To fall into thy chops, let others pray

For ever their fair poems flourish may

But as for me, hungry oblivion

Devour me quick, accept my orison

My earnest prayers, which do importune thee,

With gloomy shade of thy still empery,

To vail both me and my poesy

Far worthier lines in silence of thy state

Do sleep securely free from love or hate,

From which this living near can be exempt

But whilst it breathes will hate and fury tempt

Then close his eyes with thy all-dimming hand

Which not right glorious actions can withstand

Peace, hateful tongues, i now in silence pace

Unless some hound do wake me from my place

I with this sharp, yet well meant poesy

Will sleep secure, right free from injury

Of cankered hate, or rankest villainy