Poem by Henry King, Bishop of Chichester

Upon A Table-Book Presented To A Lady

VVhen your fair hand receives this little book
You must not there for prose or verses look.
Those empty regions which within you see,
May by your self planted and peopled be:
And though we scarce allow your sex to prove
Writers (unless the Argument be Love);
Yet without crime or envy you have roome
Here, both the Scribe and Author to become. 

1. To the Queen at Oxford
2. The Short Wooing
3. On Two Children Dying Of One Disease, And Buried In One Grave
4. Another Of The Same, Paraphrased For An Antheme
5. Madam Gabrina, Or The Ill-Favourd Choice

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