We live in the wind-chill, The what-if and what-was-not, The blown and sour dust of just after or just before, The metaquotidian landscape of soft edge and abyss.

[…]on whom […] / Lavish Honour shower’d all her stars,[…]

To the onlie begetter of these insuing sonnets Mr. W. H. all happinesse and that eternitie promised by our ever-living poet wisheth the well-wishing adventurer in setting forth.

The next iiij shall be named by the vicar of St Martyns the eldest churchwarden & the constable of the sayd parish the ballyve of the mannor of Stanford Baron and the keper of the Inn called the Georg in Stanford Baron or by the gretar part therof.