Epistolary Garden

To the known triflers, & the vain haters of this little work.

Behold, biting Momus, behold, sycophant, this little book,
Which brings forth, do your fictions now deeply fall silent?
I shall grant nothing to either, although you, Momus, in your way,
Might think these writings of mine will soon collapse:
In the beginnings, concepts, and completions, the grace of the highest,
God, who rules these things, was present; hold this fast.
I ask of my writings, you impious liar,
You will not be a small, insane critic.
But I count it as nothing to be affected by stains;
Lo, the disgrace remains for you, trifler.

With God giving, envy is worth nothing, &
With God not giving, labor is worth nothing.

A decorative woodcut tailpiece features symmetrical foliate scrolls and floral motifs.