To Mr. William Mallory, Poem by John Ashmore

See here the Map of humane Miserie,
The Labyrinth that you are entring to,
Full of cross-waies of ambiguitie
Like to Mæander running to and fro:
Here had you need of Ariadneys clue;
Which in all doubts will aide and succor you.
By help of it, the Minotaur you'll slay
(A Monster bred of Lust and lewd Desire).
And, being rid of that perplexed way,
To sweet repose of minde you'll thence retire.
Those, that to kill this Monster doe not strive,
Shall (peece-meal) be devour'd of him alive.
And may not I, the Palinurus now
That at the Helm in a calm River sit,
Of your lancht Frigot, tell what th'heavens foreshowe?
That happy Windes shall still attend on it;
And that great Neptune, with his azure traine,
Will steer it, till the happy Port it gaine.