To Finish What's Begun, Was My Intent, My Thoughts And My Endeavours Thereto Bent; Essays I Many Made But Still Gave Out, The More I Mus'D, The More I Was In Doubt: The Subject Large My Mind And Body Weak, With Many Moe Discouragements Did Speak. All Thoughts Of Further Progress Laid Aside, Though Oft Perswaded, I As Oft Deny'D, At Length Resolv'D, When Many Years Had Past, To Prosecute My Story To The Last; And For The Same, I Hours Not Few Did Spend, And Weary Lines (Though Lanke) I Many Pen'D: But 'Fore I Could Accomplish My Desire, My Papers Fell A Prey To Th' Raging Fire. And Thus My Pains (With Better Things) I Lost, Which None Had Cause To Wail, Nor I To Boast. No More I'Le Do Sith I Have Suffer'D Wrack, Although My Monarchies Their Legs Do Lack: Nor Matter Is'T This Last, The World Now Sees, Hath Many Ages Been Upon His Knees.