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This Figure, that thou here seest put,
  It was for gentle Shakespeare cut;
Wherein the Graver had a strife
  With Nature, to out-doe the Life:
O, could he but have drawn his Wit
  As well in Brasse, as he has hit
His Face; the Print would then surpasse
  All, that was ever writ in Brasse.
But since he cannot, Reader, look
  Not on his Picture, but his Book. B. J.

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Anon. [1664], NA (Printed for P.C., London) [word count] [s10539].
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To the Reader [secondary verse]
To the Reader.

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Anon. [1664], NA (Printed for P.C., London) [word count] [s10539].
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