to commit this ill Oh that thou couldst vnto such grace aspire That thy polluted lips might neuer kill That Honour which right Iudgement euer graceth To purchase shame which all true worth defaceth Art thou a Iudge and asketh what to do With one in whom no fault there can be found The death of Christ wilt thou consent vnto Finding no cause no reason nor no ground Shall he be scourg'd and crucified too And must his miseries by thy meanes abound Yet not asham'd to aske what he hath done When thine owne conscience seeks this sinne to shunne Three times thou ask'st What euill hath he done And saist thou find'st in him no cause of death Yet wilt thou chasten Gods beloued Sonne Although to thee no word of ill he saith For Wrath must end what Malice hath begunne And thou must yield to stop his guiltlesse breath This rude tumultuous rowt doth presse so sore That thou condemnest him thou shouldst adore Yet Pilate this can yeeld thee no content To exercise thine owne authoritie But vnto Herod he must needes be sent To reconcile thy selfe by tyrannie Was this the greatest good in Iustice meant When thou perceiu'st no fault in him to be If thou must make thy peace by Virtues fall Much better 't were not to be friends at all Yet neither thy sterne browe nor his great place Can draw an answer from the Holy One His false accusers nor his great disgrace Nor Herods scoffes to him they are all one He neither cares nor feares his owne ill case Though being despis'd and mockt of euery one King Herods gladnesse giues him little ease Neither his anger seekes he to appease Yet this is strange that base Impietie Should yeeld those robes of honour which were due Pure white to shew his great Integritie His innocency that all the world might view Perfections height in lowest penury Such glorious pouerty as they neuer knew Purple and Scarlet well might him beseeme Whose pretious blood must all the world redeeme And that Imperiall Crowne of Thornes he wore Was much more pretious than the Diadem Of any King that euer liu'd before Or since his time their honour 's but a dreame To his eternall glory beeing so poore To make a purchasse of that heauenly Realme Where God with all his Angels liues in peace No griefes nor sorrowes but all joyes increase Those royall robes which they in scorne did giue To make him odious to the common sort Yeeld light of Grace to those whose soules shall liue Within the harbour of this heauenly port Much doe they joy and much more doe they grieue His death their life should make his foes such sport With sharpest thornes to pricke his blessed face Our joyfull sorrow and his greater grace Three feares at once possessed Pilates heart The first Christs innocencie which so plaine appeares The next That he which now must feele this sinart Is Gods deare Sonne for any thing he heares But that which proou'd the deepest wounding dart Is Peoples threat'nings which he so much feares That he to Caesar could not be a friend Vnlesse he sent sweet IESVS to his end Now Pilate thou art proou'da painted wall A golden Sepulcher with rotten bones From right to wrong from equitie to fall If none vpbraid thee yet the very stones Will rise against thee and in question call His blood his teares his sighes his bitter groanes All these will witnesse at the latter day When water cannot wash thy sinne away Canst thou be innocent that gainst all right Wilt yeeld to what thy conscience doth withstand Beeing a man of knowledge powre and might To let the wicked carrie such a hand Before thy face to blindfold Heau'ns bright light And thou to yeeld to what they did demand Washing thy hands thy conscience cannot cleare But to all worlds this staine must needs appeare For loe the Guiltie doth accuse the Iust And faultie Iudge condemnes the Innocent And wilfull Iewes to exercise their lust With whips and taunts against their Lord are bent He basely vs'd blasphemed scorn'd and curst Our heauenly King to death for vs they sent Reproches slanders spittings in his face Spight doing all her worst in his disgrace â—hrist going 〈◊〉 death ¶ And now this long expected houre drawes neere When blessed Saints with Angels doe condole His holy march soft pace and heauy cheere In humble sort to yeeld his glorious soule By his deserts the fowlest sinnes to cleare And in th' eternall booke of heauen to enroule A satisfaction till the generall doome Of all sinnes past and all that are to come They that had seene this pitifull Procession From Pilates Palace to Mount Caluarie Might thinke he answer'd for some great transgression Beeing in such odious sort condemn'd to die He plainely shewed that his owne profession Was virtue patience grace loue piety And how by suffering he could conquer more Than all the Kings that euer liu'd before First went the Crier with open mouth proclayming The heauy sentence of Iniquitie The Hangman next by his base office clayming His right in Hell where sinners neuer die Carrying the nayles the people still blaspheming Their maker vsing all impiety The Thieues attending him on either side ¶ The Serjeants watching while the women cri'd The teares of the daughters of Ierusalem Thrice happy women that obtaind such grace From him whose worth the world could not containe Immediately to turne about his face As not remembring his great griefe and paine To comfort you whose teares powr'd forth apace On Flora's bankes like shewers of Aprils raine Your cries inforced mercie grace and loue From him whom greatest Princes could not mooue To speake on word nor once to lift his eyes Vnto proud Pilate no nor Herod king By all the Questions that they could deuise Could make him answere to no manner of thing Yet these poore women by their pitious cries Did mooue their Lord their Louer and their King To take compassion turne about and speake To them whose hearts were ready now to breake Most blessed daughters of Ierusalem Who found such fauour in your Sauiors sight To turne his face when you did pitie him Your tearefull eyes beheld his eies more bright Your Faith and Loue vnto such grace did clime To haue reflection from this Heau'nly Light Your Eagles eyes did gaze against this Sunne Your hearts did thinke he dead the world were done When spightfull men with torments did oppresse Th' afflicted body of this innocent Doue Poore women seeing how much they did transgresse By teares by sighes by cries intreat nay proue What may be done among the thickest presse They labour still these tyrants hearts to moue In pitie and compassion to forbeare Their whipping spurning tearing of his haire But all in vaine their malice hath no end Their hearts more hard than slint or marble stone Now to his griefe his greatnesse they attend When he God knowes had rather be alone They are his guard yet seeke all meanes to offend Well
that crowne which is your due That of Heau'ns beauty Earth may take a view Though famous women elder times haue knowne Whose glorious actions did appeare so bright That powrefull men by them were ouerthrowne And all their armies ouercome in fight The Scythian women by their powre alone Put king Darius vnto shamefull flight All Asia yeelded to their conq'ring hand Great Alexander could not their powre withstand Whose worth though writ in lines of blood and fire Is not to be compared vnto thine Their powre was small to ouercome Desire Or to direct their wayes by Virtues line Were they aliue they would thy Life admire And vnto thee their honours would resigne For thou a greater conquest do'st obtaine Than they who haue so many thousands slaine Wise Deborah that judged Israel Nor valiant Iudeth cannot equall thee Vnto the first God did his will reueale And gaue her powre to set his people free Yea Iudeth had the powre likewise to queale Proud Holifernes that the just might see What small defence vaine pride and greatnesse hath Against the weapons of Gods word and faith But thou farre greater warre do'st still maintaine Against that many headed monster Sinne Whose mortall sting hath many thousand slaine And euery day fresh combates doe begin Yet cannot all his venome lay one staine Vpon thy Soule thou do'st the conquest winne Though all the world he daily doth deuoure Yet ouer thee he neuer could get powre For that one worthy deed by Deb'rah done Thou hast performed many in thy time For that one Conquest that faire Iudeth wonne By which shee did the steps of honour clime Thou hast the Conquest of all Conquests wonne When to thy Conscience Hell can lay no crime For that one head that Iudeth bare away Thou tak'st from Sinne a hundred heads a day Though virtuous Hester fasted three dayes space And spent her time in prayers all that while That by Gods powre shee might obtaine such grace That shee and hers might not become a spoyle To wicked Hamon in whose crabbed face Was seene the map of malice enuie guile Her glorious garments though shee put apart So to present a pure and single heart To God in sack-cloth ashes and with teares Yet must faire Hester needs giue place to thee Who hath continu'd dayes weekes months and yeares In Gods true seruice yet thy heart beeing free From doubt of death or any other feares Fasting from sinne thou pray'st thine eyes may see Him that hath full possession of thine heart From whose sweet loue thy Soule can neuer part His Loue not Feare makes thee to fast and pray No kinsmans counsell needs thee to aduise The sack-cloth thou do'st weare both night and day Is worldly troubles which thy rest denies The ashes are the Vanities that play Ouer thy head and steale before thine eyes Which thou shak'st off when mourning time is past That royall roabes thou may'st put on at last Ioachims wife that faire and constant Dame Who rather chose a cruel death to die Than yeeld to those two Elders voide of shame When both at once her chastitie did trie Whose Innocencie bare away the blame Vntill th' Almighty Lord had heard her crie And rais'd the spirit of a Child to speake Making the powrefull judged of the weake Although her virtue doe deserue to be Writ by that hand that neuer purchas'd blame In holy Writ where all the world may see Her perfit life and euer honoured name Yet was she not to be compar'd to thee Whose many virtues doe increase thy fame For shee oppos'd against old doting Lust Who with lifes danger she did feare to trust But your chafte breast guarded with strength of mind Hates the imbracements of vnchaste desires You louing God liue in your selfe confind From vnpure Loue your purest thoughts retires Your perfit sight could neuer be so blind To entertaine the old or yong desires Of idle Louers which the world presents Whose base abuses worthy minds preuents Euen as the constant Lawrell alwayes greene No parching heate of Summer can deface Nor pinching Winter euer yet was seene Whose nipping frosts could wither or disgrace So you deere Ladie still remaine as Queene Subduing all affections that are base Vnalterable by the change of times Not following but lamenting others crimes No feare of Death or dread of open shame Hinders your perfect heart to giue consent Nor loathsome age whom Time could neuer tame From ill designes whereto their youth was bent But loue of God care to preserue your fame And spend that pretious time that God hath sent In all good exercises of the minde Whereto your noble nature is inclin'd That Ethyopian Queene did gaine great fame Who from the Southerne world did come to see Great Salomon the glory of whose name Had spread it selfe ore all the earth to be So great that all the Princes thither came To be spectators of his royaltie And this faire Queene of Sheba came from farre To reuerence this new appearing starre From th' vtmost part of all the Earth shee came To heare the Wisdom of this worthy King To trie if Wonder did agree with Fame And many faire rich presents did she bring Yea many strange hard questions did shee frame All which were answer'd by this famous King Nothing was hid that in her heart did rest And all to prooue this King so highly blest Here Maiestie with Maiestie did meete Wisdome to Wisdome yeelded true content One Beauty did another Beauty greet Bounty to Bountie neuer could repent Here all distaste is troden vnder feet No losse of time where time was so well spent In virtuous exercises of the minde In which this Queene did much contentment finde Spirits affect where they doe sympathize Wisdom desires Wisdome to embrace Virtue couets her like and doth deuize How she her friends may entertaine with grace Beauty sometime is pleas'd to feed her eyes With viewing Beautie in anothers face Both good and bad in this point doe agree That each desireth with his like to be And this Desire did worke a strange effect To drawe a Queene forth of her natiue Land Not yeelding to the nicenesse and respect Of woman-kind shee past both sea and land All feare of dangers shee did quite neglect Onely to see to heare and vnderstand That beauty wisedome maiestie and glorie That in her heart imprest his perfect storie Yet this faire map of maiestie and might Was but a figure of thy deerest Loue Borne t' expresse that true and heauenly light That doth all other joyes imperfect proue If this faire Earthly starre did shine so bright What doth that glorious Sonne that is aboue Who weares th' imperiall crowne of heauen and earth And made all Christians blessed in his berth If that small sparke could yeeld so great a fire As to inflame the hearts of many Kings To come to see to heare and to admire His wisdome tending but to worldly things Then much more reason haue we to desire That heau'nly
wisedome which saluation brings The Sonne of righteousnesse that giues true joyes When all they sought for were but Earthly toyes No trauels ought th' affected soule to shunne That this faire heauenly Light desires to see This King of kings to whom we all should runne To view his Glory and his Majestie He without whom we all had beene vndone He that from Sinne and Death hath set vs free And ouercome Satan the world and finne That by his merits we those joyes might winne Prepar'd by him whose euerlasting throne Is plac'd in heauen aboue the starrie skies Where he that sate was like the Iasper stone Who rightly knowes him shall be truely wise A Rainebow round about his glorious throne Nay more those winged beasts so full of eies That neuer cease to glorifie his Name Who was and will be and is now the same This is that great almightie Lord that made Both heauen and earth and liues for euermore By him the worlds foundation first was laid He fram'd the things that neuer were before The Sea within his bounds by him is staid He judgeth all alike both rich and poore All might all majestie all loue all lawe Remaines in him that keepes all worlds in awe From his eternall throne the lightning came Thundrings and Voyces did from thence proceede And all the creatures glorifi'd his name In heauen in earth and seas they all agreed When loe that spotlesse Lambe so voyd of blame That for vs di'd whose sinnes did make him bleed That true Physition that so many heales Opened the Booke and did vndoe the Seales He onely worthy to vndoe the Booke Of our charg'd soules full of iniquitie Where with the eyes of mercy he doth looke Vpon our weakenesse and infirmitie This is that corner stone that was forsooke Who leaues it trusts but to vncertaintie This is Gods Sonne in whom he is well pleased His deere beloued that his wrath appeased He that had powre to open all the Seales And summon vp our sinnes of blood and wrong He vnto whom the righteous soules appeales That haue bin martyrd and doe thinke it long To whom in mercie he his will reueales That they should rest a little in their wrong Vntill their fellow seruants should be killed Euen as they were and that they were fulfilled To the Laâ—â— dowager of Cumberland ¶ Pure thoughted Lady blessed be thy choyce Of this Almightie euerlasting King In thee his Saints and Angels doe reioyce And to their Heau'nly Lord doe daily sing Thy perfect praises in their lowdest voyce And all their harpes and golden vials bring Full of sweet odours euen thy-holy prayers Vnto that spotlesse Lambe that all repaires Of whom that Heathen Queene obtain'd such grace By honouring but the shadow of his Loue That great Iudiciall day to haue a place Condemning those that doe vnfaithfull proue Among the haplesse happie is her case That her deere Sauiour spake for her behoue And that her memorable Act should be Writ by the hand of true Eternitie Yet this rare Phoenix of that worne-out age This great maiesticke Queene comes short of thee Who to an earthly Prince did then ingage Her hearts desires her loue her libertie Acting her glorious part vpon a Stage Of weaknesse frailtie and infirmity Giuing all honour to a Creature due To her Creator whom shee neuer knew But loe a greater thou hast sought and found Than Salomon in all his royaltie And vnto him thy faith most firmely bound To serue and honour him continually That glorious God whose terror doth confound All sinfull workers of iniquitie Him hast thou truely serued all thy life And for his loue liu'd with the world at strife To this great Lord thou onely art affected Yet came he not in pompe or royaltie But in an humble habit base deiected A King a God clad in mortalitie He hath thy loue thou art by him directed His perfect path was faire humilitie Who being Monarke of heau'n earth and seas Indur'd all wrongs yet no man did displease Then how much more art thou to be commended That seek'st thy loue in lowly shepheards weed A seeming Trades-mans sonne of none attended Saue of a few in pouertie and need Poore Fishermen that on his loue attended His loue that makes so many thousands bleed Thus did he come to trie our faiths the more Possessing worlds yet seeming extreame poore The Pilgrimes trauels and the Shepheards cares He tooke vpon him to enlarge our soules What pride hath lost humilitie repaires For by his glorious death he vs inroules In deepe Characters writ with blood and teares Vpon those blessed Euerlasting scroules His hands his feete his body and his face Whence freely flow'd the riuers of his grace Sweet holy riuers pure celestiall springs Proceeding from the fountaine of our life Swift sugred currents that saluation brings Cleare christall streames purging all sinne and strife Faire floods where souls do bathe their snow-white wings Before they flie to true etern all life Sweet Nectar and Ambrosia food of Saints Which whoso tasteth neuer after faints This hony dropping dew of holy loue Sweet milke wherewith we weaklings are restored Who drinkes thereof a world can neuer moue All earthly pleasures are of them abhorred This loue made Martyrs many deaths to proue To taste his sweetnesse whom they so adored Sweetnesse that makes our flesh a burthen to vs Knowing it serues but onely to vndoe vs. His sweetnesse sweet'ned all the sowre of death To faithfull Stephen his appointed Saint Who by the riuer stones did loose his breath When paines nor terrors could not make him faint So was this blessed Martyr turn'd to earth To glorifie his soule by deaths attaint This holy Saint was humbled and cast downe To winne in heauen an euerlasting crowne Whose face repleat with Maiestie and Sweetnesse Did as an Angel vnto them appeare That sate in Counsell hearing his discreetnesse Seeing no change or any signe of a feare But with a constant browe did there confesse Christs high deserts which were to him so deare Yea when these Tyrants stormes did most oppresse Christ did appeare to make his griefe the lesse For beeing filled with the holy Ghost Vp vnto Heau'n he look'd with stedfast eies Where God appeared with his heauenly hoste In glory to this Saint before he dies Although he could no Earthly pleasures boast At Gods right hand sweet IESVS he espies Bids them behold Heauens open he doth see The Sonne of Man at Gods right hand to be Whose sweetnesse sweet'ned that short sowre of Life Making all bitternesse delight his taste Yeelding sweet quietnesse in bitter strife And most contentment when he di'd disgrac'd Heaping vp joyes where sorrows were most rife Such sweetnesse could not choose but be imbrac'd The food of Soules the Spirits onely treasure The Paradise of our celestiall pleasure This Lambe of God who di'd and was aliue Presenting vs the bread of life Eternall His bruised body powrefull to reuiue Our sinking soules out of the pit infernall
SALVE DEVS REX IVDAEORVM Containing 1 The Passion of Christ 2 Eues Apologie in defence of Women 3 The Teares of the Daughters of Ierusalem 4 The Salutation and Sorrow of the Virgine Marie With diuers other things not vnfit to be read Written by Mistris Aemilia Lanyer Wife to Captaine Alfonso Lanyer Seruant to the Kings Majestie AT LONDON Printed by Valentine Simmes for Richard Bonian and are to be sold at his Shop in Paules Church-yard Anno 1611. ⧠To the Queenes most Excellent Majestie REnowned Empresse and great Britaines Queene Most gratious Mother of succeeding Kings Vouchsafe to view that which is seldome seene A Womans writing of diuinest things Reade it faire Queene though it defectiue be Your Excellence can grace both It and Mee For you haue rifled Nature of her store And all the Goddesses haue dispossest Of those rich gifts which they enioy'd before But now great Queene in you they all doe rest If now they striued for the golden Ball Paris would gine it you before them all From Iuno you haue State and Dignities From warlike Pallas Wisdome Fortitude And from faire Venus all her Excellencies With their best parts your Highnesse is indu'd How much are we to honor those that springs From such rare beauty in the blood of Kings The Muses doe attend vpon your Throne With all the Artists at your becke and call The Syluane Gods and Satyres euery one Before your faire triumphant Chariot fall And shining Cynthia with her nymphs attend To honour you whose Honour hath no end From your bright spheare of greatnes where you sit Reflecting light to all those glorious stars That wait vpon your Throane To virtue yet Vouchsafe that splendor which my meannesse bars Be like faire Phoebe who doth loue to grace The darkest night with her most beauteous face Apollo's beames doe comfort euery creature And shines vpon the meanest things that be Since in Estate and Virtue none is greater I humbly wish that yours may light on me That so these rude vnpollisht lines of mine Graced by you may seeme the more diuine Looke in this Mirrour of a worthy Mind Where some of your faire Virtues will appeare Though all it is impossible to find Vnlesse my Glasse were chrystall or more cleare Which is dym steele yet full of spotlesse truth And for one looke from your faire eyes it su'th Here may your sacred Maiestie behold That mightie Monarch both of heau'n and earth He that all Nations of the world controld Yet tooke our flesh in base and meanest berth Whose daies were spent in pouerty and sorrow And yet all Kings their wealth of him do borrow For he is Crowne and Crowner of all Kings The hopefull hauen of the meaner sort It s he that all our ioyfull tidings brings Of happie raigne within his royall Court It s he that in extremity can giue Comfort to them that haue no time to liue And since my wealth within his Region stands And that his Crosse my chiefest comfort is Yea in his kingdome onely rests my lands Of honour there I hope I shall not misse Though I on earth doe liue vnfortunate Yet there I may attaine a better state In the meane time accept most gratious Queene This holy worke Virtne presents to you In poore apparell shaming to be seene Or once t' appeare in your iudiciall view But that faire Virtue though in meane attire All Princes of the world doe most desire And sith all royall virtues are in you The Naturall the Morall and Diuine I hope how plaine soeuer beeing true You will accept euen of the meanest line Faire Virtue yeelds by whose rare gifts you are So highly grac'd t' exceed the fairest faire Behold great Queene faire Eues Apologie Which I haue writ in honour of your sexe And doe referre vnto your Maiestie To iudge if it agree not with the Text And if it doe why are poore Women blam'd Or by more faultie Men so much defam'd And this great Lady I haue here attired In all her richest ornaments of Honour That you faire Queene of all the world admired May take the more delight to looke vpon her For she must entertaine you to this Feast To which your Highnesse is the welcom'st guest For here I haue prepar'd my Paschal Lambe The figure of that liuing Sacrifice Who dying all th' Infernall powres orecame That we with him t'Eternitie might rise This pretious Passeouer feed vpon O Queene Let your faire Virtues in my Glasse be seene And she that is the patterne of all Beautie The very modell of your Maiestie Whose rarest parts enforceth Loue and Duty The perfect patterne of all Pietie O let my Booke by her faire eies be blest In whose pure thoughts all Innocency rests Then shall I thinke my Glasse a glorious Skie When two such glittring Suns at once appeare The one repleat with Sou'raigne Maiestie Both shining brighter than the clearest cleare And both reflecting comfort to my spirits To find their grace so much aboue my merits Whose vntun'd voyce the dolefull notes doth sing Of sad Affliction in an humble straine Much like vnto a Bird that wants a wing And cannot flie but warbles forth her paine Or he that barred from the Suns bright light Wanting daies comfort doth comend the night So I that liue clos'd vp in Sorrowes Cell Since great Elizaes fauour blest my youth And in the confines of all cares doe dwell Whose grieued eyes no pleasure euer view'th But in Christs suffrings such sweet taste they haue As makes me praise pale Sorrow and the Graue And this great Ladie whom I loue and honour And from my very tender yeeres haue knowne This holy habite still to take vpon her Still to remaine the same and still her owne And what our fortunes doe enforce vs to She of Deuotion and meere Zeale doth do Which makes me thinke our heauy burden light When such a one as she will help to beare it Treading the paths that make our way go right What garment is so faire but she may weare it Especially for her that entertaines A Glorious Queene in whome all woorth remains Whose powre may raise my sad deiected Muse From this lowe Mansion of a troubled mind Whose princely fauour may such grace infuse That I may spread Her Virtues in like kind But in this triall of my slender skill I wanted knowledge to performe my will For euen as they that doe behold the Starres Not with the eie of Learning but of Sight To find their motions want of knowledge barres Although they see them in their brightest light So though I see the glory of her State It s she that must instruct and eleuate My weake distempred braine and feeble spirits Which all vnlearned haue aduentur'd this To write of Christ and of his sacred merits Desiring that this Booke Her hands may kisse And though I be vnworthy of that grace Yet let her blessed thoghts this book imbrace And pardon me faire Queene though I presume
remote From worldly pleasures free from giuing cause Of least suspect to the most enuious eie That in faire Virtues Storehouse sought to prie Whose Faith did vndertake in Infancie All dang'rous trauells by deuouring Seas To flie to Christ from vaine Idolatry Not seeking there this worthlesse world to please By your most famous Mother so directed That noble Dutchesse who liu'd vnsubiected From Romes ridiculous prier and tyranny That mighty Monarchs kept in awfull feare Leauing here her lands her state dignitie Nay more vouchsaft disgnised weedes to weare When with Christ Iesus she did meane to goe From sweet delights to taste part of his woe Come you that euer since hath followed her In these sweet paths of faire Humilitie Contemning Pride pure Virtue to preferre Not yeelding to base Imbecillitie Nor to those weake inticements of the world That haue so many thousand Soules insnarld Receiue your Loue whom you haue sought so farre Which heere presents himselfe within your view Behold this bright and all directing Starre Light of your Soule that doth all grace renew And in his humble paths since you do tread Take this faire Bridegroome in your soules pure bed And since no former gaine hath made me write Nor my desertlesse seruice could haue wonne Onely your noble Virtues do incite My Pen they are the ground I write vpon Nor any future profit is expected Then how can these poore lines goe vnrespected ¶ The Authors Dreame to the Ladie Marie the Countesse Dowager of Pembrooke ME thought I pass'd through th' Edalyan Groues And askt the Graces if they could direct Me to a Lady whom Minerua chose To liue with her in height of all respect Yet looking backe into my thoughts againe The eie of Reason did behold her there Fast ti'd vnto them in a golden Chaine They stood but she was set in Honors chaire And nine faire Virgins sate vpon the ground With Harps and Vialls in their lilly hands Whose harmony had all my sences drown'd But that before mine eyes an object stands Whose Beauty shin'd like Titons cleerest raies She blew a brasen Trumpet which did sound Throgh al the world that worthy Ladies praise And by Eternall Fame I saw her crown'd Yet studying if I were awake or no God Morphy came and tooke me by the hand The God of Dreames And wil'd me not from Slumbers bowre to go Till I the summe of all did vnderstand When presently the Welkin that before Look'd bright and cleere me thought was ouercast And duskie clouds with boyst'rous winds great store Foretold of violent stormes which could not last And gazing vp into the troubled skie Me thought a Chariot did from thence descend Where one did sit repleat with Majestie Drawne by foure fierie Dragons which did bend Their course where this most noble Lady sate Whom all these virgins with due reuerence Did entertaine according to that state Which did belong vnto her Excellence When bright Bellona Goddesse of Warre and Wisdome so they did her call Whom these faire Nymphs so humbly did receiue Amanly mayd which was both faire and tall Her borrowed Charret by a spring did leaue With speare and shield and currat on her breast And on her head a helmet wondrous bright With myrtle bayes and oliue branches drest Wherein me thought I tooke no small delight To see how all the Graces sought grace here And in what meeke yet princely sort shee came How this most noble Lady did imbrace her And all humors vnto hers did frame Now faire Dictina by the breake of Day The Moone With all her Damsels round about her came Ranging the woods to hunt yet made a stay When harkning to the pleasing sound of Fame Her Iuory bowe and siluer shaftes shee gaue Vnto the fairest nymphe of all her traine And wondring who it was that in so graue Yet gallant fashion did her beauty staine Shee deckt her selfe with all the borrowed light That Phoebus would afford from his faire face And made her Virgins to appeare so bright That all the hils and vales receiued grace Then pressing where this beauteous troupe did stand They all receiued her most willingly And vnto her the Lady gaue her hand That shee should keepe with them continually Aurora rising from her rosie bedde The Morning First blusht then wept to see faire Phoebe grac'd And vnto Lady Maie these wordes shee sed Come let vs goe we will not be out-fac'd I will vnto Apolloes Waggoner A bidde him bring his Master presently That his bright beames may all her Beauty marre Gracing vs with the luster of his eie Come come sweet Maie and fill their laps with floures And I will giue a greater light than she So all these Ladied fauours shall be ours None shall be more esteem'd than we shall be Thus did Aurora dimme faire Phoebus light And was receiu'd in bright Cynthiaes place While Flora all with fragrant floures dight Pressed to shew the beauty of her face Though these me thought were verie pleasing sights Yet now these Worthies did agree to go Vnto a place full of all rare delights A place that yet Minerua did not know That sacred Spring where Artand Nature striu'd Which should remaine as Sou'raigne of the place Whose antient quarrell being new reuiu'd Added fresh Beauty gaue farre greater Grace To which as vmpiers now these Ladies go Iudging with pleasure their delightfull case Whose rauisht sences made them quickely know T' would be offensiue either to displace And therefore will'd they should for euer dwell In perfit vnity by this matchlesse Spring Since 't was impossible either should excell Or her faire fellow in subjection bring But here in equall sou'raigntie to liue Equall in state equall in dignitie That vnto others they might comfort giue Rejoycing all with their sweet vnitie And now me thought I long to heare her name Whom wise Minerua honoured so much Shee whom I saw was crownd by noble Fame Whom Enuy sought to sting yet could not tuch Me thought the meager elfe did secke bie waies To come vnto her but it would not be Her venime purifi'd by virtues raies Shee pin'd and staru'd like an Anotomie While beauteous Pallas with this Lady faire Attended by these Nymphs of noble fame Beheld those woods those groues those bowers rare By which Pergusa for so hight the name Of that faire spring his dwelling place ground And throgh those fields with sundry flowers clad Ofseu'rall colours to adorne the ground And please the sences eu'n of the most sad He trayld along the woods in wanton wise With sweet delight to entertaine them all Inuiting them to sit and to deuise On holy hymnes at last to mind they call Those rare sweet songs which Israels King did frame Vnto the Father of Eternitie The Psalms written newly by the Countesse Dowager of Penbrooke Before his holy wisedom tooke the name Of great Messias Lord of vnitie Those holy Sonnets they did all agree With this most louely Lady here
the feast Where he that is the greatest may be least Greatnesse is no sure frame to build vpon No worldly treasure can assure that place God makes both euen the Cottage with the Throne All worldly honours there are counted base Those he holds deare and reckneth as his owne Whose virtuous deeds by his especially grace Haue gain'd his loue his kingdome and his crowne Whom in the booke of Life he hath set downe Titles of honour which the world bestowes To none but to the virtuous doth belong As beauteous bowres where true worth should repose And where his dwellings should be built most strong But when they are bestow'd vpon her foes Poore virtues friends indure the greatest wrong For they must fuffer all indignity Vntill in heau'n they better graced be What difference was there when the world began Was it not Virtue that distinguisht all All sprang but from one woman and one man Then how doth Gentry come to rise and fall Or who is he that very rightly can Distinguish of his birth or tell at all In what meane state his Ancestors haue bin Before some one of worth did honour win Whose successors although they beare his name Possessing not the riches of his â—inde How doe we know they spring out of the same True stocke of honour beeing not of that kiâ—d It is faire virtue gets immortall fame T is that doth all loue and duty bind If he that much enjoyes doth little good We may suppose he comes not of that blood Nor is he fit for honour or command If base affections ouer-rules his mind Or that selfe-will doth carry such a hand As worldly pleasures haue the powre to blind So as he cannot see nor vnderstand How to discharge that place to him affign'd Gods Stewards must for all the poore prouide If in Gods house they purpose to abide To you as to Gods Steward I doe write In whom the seeds of virtue haue bin sowne By your most worthy mother in whose right All her faire parts you challenge as your owne If you sweet Lady will appeare as bright As euer creature did that time hath knowne Then weare this Diadem I present to thee Which I haue fram'd for her Eternitie You are the Heire apparant of this Crowne Of goodnesse bountie grace loue pietie By birth it s yours then keepe it as your owne Defend it from all base indignitie The right your Mother hath to it is knowne Best vnto you who reapt such fruit thereby This Monument of her faire worth retaine In your pure mind and keepe it from al staine And as your Ancestors at first possest Their honours for their honourable deeds Let their faire virtues neuer be transgrest Bind vp the broken stop the wounds that bleeds Succour the poore comfort the comfortlesse Cherish faire plants suppresse vnwholsom weeds Although base pelfe do chance to come in place Yet let true worth receiue your greatest grace So shal you shew from whence you are descended And leaue to all posterities your fame So will your virtues alwaies be commended And euery one will reuerence your name So this poore worke of mine shal be defended From any scandall that the world can frame And you a glorious Actor will appeare Louely to all but vnto God most deare I know right well these are but needlesse lines To you that are so perfect in your part Whose birth and education both combines Nay more than both a pure and godly heart So well instructed to such faire designes By your deere Mother that there needs no art Your ripe discretion in your tender yeares By all your actions to the world appeares I doe but set a candle in the sunne And adde one drop of water to the sea Virtue and Beautie both together run When you were borne within your breast to stay Their quarrell ceast which long before begun They liue in peace and all doe them obey In you faire Madame are they richly plac'd Where all their worth by Eternity is grac'd You goddesse-like vnto the world appeare Inricht with more than fortune can bestowe Goodnesse and Grace which you doe hold more deere Than worldly wealth which melts away like snowe Your pleasure is the word of God to heare That his most holy precepts you may know Your greatest honour faire and virtuous deeds Which from the loue and feare of God proceeds Therefore to you good Madame I present His louely loue more worth than purest gold Who for your sake his pretious blood hath spent His death and passion here you may behold And view this Lambe that to the world was sent Whom your faire soule may in her armes infold Louing his loue that did endure such paine That you in heauen a worthy place might gaine For well you knowe this world is but a Stage Where all doe play their parts and must be gone Here 's no respect of persons youth nor age Death seizeth all he neuer spareth one None can preuent or stay that tyrants rage But Iesus Christ the Iust By him alone He was orecome He open set the dore To Eternall life ne're seene nor knowne before He is the stone the builders did refuse Which you sweet Lady are to build vpon He is the rocke that holy Church did chuse Among which number you must needs be one Faire Shepheardesse t is you that he will vse To feed his flocke that trust in him alone All wordly blessings he vouchsafes to you That to the poore you may returne his due And if deserts a Ladies loue may gaine Then tell me who hath more deseru'd than he Therefore in recompence of all his paine Bestowe your paines to reade and pardon me If out of wants or weakenesse of my braine I haue not done this worke sufficiently Yet lodge him in the closet of your heart Whose worth is more than can be shew'd by Art TO THE VERTVOVS Reader OFten haue I heard that it is the property of some women not only to emulate the virtues and perfections of the rest but also by all their powers of ill speaking to ecclipse the brightnes of their deserued fame now contrary to this custome which men I hope vniustly lay to their charge I haue written this small volume or little booke for the generall vse of all virtuous Ladies and Gentlewomen of this kingdome and in commendation of some particular persons of our owne sexe such as for the most part are so well knowne to my selfe and others that I dare vndertake Fame dares not to call any better And this haue I done to make knowne to the world that all women deserue not to be blamed though some forgetting they are women themselues and in danger to be condemned by the words of their owne mouthes fall into so great an errour as to speake vnaduisedly against the rest of their sexe which if it be true I am perswaded they can shew their owne imperfection in nothing more and therefore could wish for their owne ease modesties and
claimes And registers the wrongs of humble spirits Hills melt like wax in presence of the Lord So do all sinners in his sight abhorr'd He in the waters laies his chamber beames And cloudes of darkenesse compasse him about Consuming fire shall goe before in streames And burne vp all his en'mies round about Yet on these Iudgementsw orldlings never dreames Nor of these daungers never stand in doubt While he shall rest within his holy Hill That lives and dies according to his Will But woe to them that double-hearted bee Who with their tongues the righteous Soules doe slay Bending their bowes to shoot at all they see With vpright hearts their Maker to obay And secretly doe let their arrowes flee To wound true hearted people any way The Lord wil roote them out that speake prowd things Deceitfull tongues are but false Slanders wings Froward are the vngodly from their berth No sooner borne but they doe goe astray The Lord will roote them out from off the earth And give them to their en'mies for a pray As venemous as Serpents is their breath With poysned lies to hurt in what they may The Innocent who as a Dove shall flie Vnto the Lord that he his cause may trie The righteous Lord doth righteousnesse allow His countenance will behold the thing that 's just Vnto the Meane he makes the Mightie bow And raiseth vp the Poore out of the dust Yet makes no count to vs nor when nor how But powres his grace on all that puts their trust In him that never will their hopes betray Nor lets them perish that for mercie pray He shall within his Tabernacle dwell Whose life is vncorrupt before the Lord Who no vntrueths of Innocents doth tell Nor wrongs his neighbour nor in deed nor word Nor in his pride with malice seems to swell Nor whets his tongue more sharper than a sword To wound the reputation of the Iust Nor seekes to lay their glorie in the Dust That great Iehova King of heav'n and earth Will raine downe fire and brimstone from above Vpon the wicked monsters in their berth That storme and rage at those whom he doth love Snares stormes and tempests he will raine and dearth Because he will himselfe almightie prove And this shall be their portion they shall drinke That thinkes the Lord is blind when he doth winke To the Couâ—tesse of Cumberland ¶ Pardon good Madame though I have digrest From what I doc intend to write of thee To set his glorie forth whom thou lov'st best Whose wondrous works no mortall eie can see His speciall care on those whom he hath blest From wicked worldlings how he sets them free And how such people he doth overthrow In all their waies that they his powre may know The meditation of this Monarchs love Drawes thee from caring what this world can yield Of joyes and griefes both equall thou dost prove They have no force to force thee from the field Thy constant faith like to the Turtle Dove Continues combat and will never yield To base affliction or prowd pomps desire That sets the weakest mindes so much on fire Thou from the Court to the Countrie art retir'd Leaving the world before the world leaves thee That great Enchantresse of weake mindes admir'd Whose all-bewitching charmes so pleasing be To worldly wantons and too much desir'd Of those that care not for Eternitie But yeeld themselves as preys to Lust and Sinne Loosing their hopes of Heav'n Hell paines to winne But thou the wonder of our wanton age Leav'st all delights to serve a heav'nly King Who is more wise or who can be more sage Than she that doth Affection subject bring Not forcing for the world or Satans rage But shrowding vnder the Almighties wing Spending her yeares moneths daies minutes howres In doing service to the heav'nly powres Thou faire example live without compare With Honours triumphs seated in thy breast Pale Envy never can thy name empaire When in thy heart thou harbour'st such a guest Malice must live for ever in dispaire There 's no revenge where Virtue still doth rest All hearts must needs do homage vnto thee In whom all eies such rare perfection see That outward Beautie which the world commends An Invective against outward beuty vnaccompanied with virtue Is not the subject I will write vpon Whose date expir'd that tyrant Time soone ends Those gawdie colours soone are spent and gone But those faire Virtues which on thee attends Are alwaies fresh they never are but one They make thy Beautie fairer to behold Than was that Queenes for whom prowd Troy was sold As for those matchlesse colours Red and White Or perfit features in a fading face Or due proportion pleasing to the sight All these doe draw but dangers and disgrace A mind enrich'd with Virtue shines more bright Addes everlasting Beauty gives true grace Frames an immortall Goddesse on the earth Who though she dies yet Fame gives her new berth That pride of Nature which adornes the faire Like blasing Comets to allure all eies Is but the thred that weaves their web of Care Who glories most where most their danger lies For greatest perills do attend the faire When men do seeke attempt plot and devise How they may overthrow the chastest Dame Whose Beautie is the White whereat they aime T was Beautie bred in Troy the ten yeares strife And carried Hellen from her lawfull Lord T was Beautie made chaste Lucrece loose her life For which prowd Tarquins fact was so abhorr'd Beautie the cause Antonius wrong'd his wife Which could not be decided but by sword Great Cleopatraes Beautie and defects Did worke Octaviaes wrongs and his neglects What fruit did yeeld that faire forbidden tree But blood dishonour infamie and shame Poore blinded Queene could'st thou no better see But entertaine disgrace in stead of fame Doe these designes with Maiestie agree To staine thy blood and blot thy royall name That heart that gave consent vnto this ill Did give consent that thou thy selfe should'st kill Of Rosaâ—und ¶ Faire Rosamund the wonder of her time Had bin much fairer had shee not bin faire Beautie betraid her thoughts aloft to clime To build strong castles in vncertaine aire Where th' infection of a wanton crime Did worke her fall first poyson then despaire With double death did kill her periur'd soule When heauenly Iustice did her sinne controule â—f Matilda ¶ Holy Matilda in a haplesse houre Was borne to sorow and to discontent Beauty the cause that turn'd her Sweet to Sowre While Chastity sought Folly to preuent Lustfull King Iohn refus'd did vse his powre By Fire and Sword to compasse his content But Friends disgrace nor Fathers banishment Nor Death it selfe could purchase her consent Here Beauty in the height of all perfection Crown'd this faire Creatures euerlasting fame Whose noble minde did scorne the base subiection Of Feares or Fauours to impaire her Name By heauenly grace she had such true direction To die with Honour not
body full of wounds Death last of paines his sorrows all confounds His joynts dis-joynted and his legges hang downe His alablaster breast his bloody side His members torne and on his head a Crowne Of sharpest Thorns to satisfie for pride Anguish and Paine doe all his Sences drowne While they his holy garments do diuide His bowells drie his heart full fraught with griefe Crying to him that yeelds him no reliefe To my Laâ—â— of Cumberland ¶ This with the eie of Faith thou maist behold Deere Spouse of Christ and more than I can write And here both Griefe and Ioy thou maist vnfold To view thy Loue in this most heauy plight Bowing his head his bloodlesse body cold Those eies waxe dimme that gaue vs all our light His count'nance pale yet still continues sweet His blessed blood watring his pierced feet O glorious miracle without compare Last but not least which was by him effected Vniting death life misery joy and care By his sharpe passion in his deere elected Who doth the Badges of like Liueries weare Shall find how deere they are of him respected No joy griefe paine life death was like to his Whose infinite dolours wrought eternall blisse â—…e terror of â—… creatures â—…hat inâ—…t when â—…rist died ¶ What creature on the earth did then remaine On whom the horror of this shamefull deed Did not inflict some violent touch or straine To see the Lord of all the world to bleed His dying breath did rend huge rockes in twaine The heauens betooke them to their mourning weed The Sunne grew darke and scorn'd to giue them light Who durst ecclipse a glory farre more bright The Moone and Starres did hide themselues for shame The earth did rremble in her loyall feare The Temple vaile did rent to spread his fame The Monuments did open euery where Dead Saints did rise forth of their graues and came To diuers people that remained there Within that holy City whose offence Did put their Maker to this large expence Things reasonable and reasonlesse possest The terrible impression of this fact For his oppression made them all opprest When with his blood he seal'd so faire an act In restlesse miserie to procure our rest His glorious deedes that dreadfull prison sackt When Death Hell Diuells vsing all their powre Were ouercome in that most blessed houre Being dead he killed Death and did suruiue That prowd insulting Tyrant in whose place He sends bright Immortalitie to reuiue Those whom his yron armes did long embrace Who from their loathsome graues brings them aliue In glory to behold their Sauiours face Who tooke the keys of all Deaths powre away Opening to those that would his name obay O wonder more than man can comprehend Our Ioy and Griefe both at one instant fram'd Compounded Contrarieties contend Each to exceed yet neither to be blam'd Our Griefe to see our Sauiours wretched end Our Ioy to know both Death and Hell he tam'd That we may say O Death where is thy sting Hell yeeld thy victory to thy conq'ring King Can stony hearts refraine from shedding teares To view the life and death of this sweet Saint His austere course in yong and tender yeares When great indurements could not make him faint His wants his paines his torments and his feares All which he vndertooke without constraint To shew that infinite Goodnesse must restore What infinite Iustice looked for and more Yet had he beene but of a meane degree His suffrings had beene small to what they were Meane minds will shew of what meane mouldes they bee Small griefes seeme great yet Vse doth make them beare But ah t is hard to stirre a sturdy tree Great dangers hardly puts great minds in feare They will conceale their griefes which mightie grow In their stout hearts vntill they ouerflow If then an earthly Prince may ill endure The least of those afflictions which he bare How could this all-commaunding King procure Such grieuous torments with his mind to square Legions of Angells being at his Lure He might haue liu'd in pleasure without care None can conceiue the bitter paines he felt When God and man must suffer without guilt Take all the Suffrings Thoughts can thinke vpon In eu'ry man that this huge world hath bred Let all those Paines and Suffrings meet in one Yet are they not a Mite to that he did Endure for vs Oh let vs thinke thereon That God should haue his pretious blood so shed His Greatnesse clothed in our fraile attire And pay so deare a ransome for the hire Loe here was glorie miserie life and death An vnion of contraries did accord Gladnesse and sadnesse here had one berth This wonder wrought the Passion of our Lord He suffring for all the sinnes of all th' earth No satisfaction could the world afford But this rich Iewell which from God was sent To call all those that would in time repent Which I present deare Lady to your view Vpon the Crosse depriu'd of life or breath To judge if euer Louer were so true To yeeld himselfe vnto such shamefull death Now blessed Ioseph doth both beg and sue To haue his body who possest his faith And thinkes if he this small request obtaines He wins more wealth than in the world remaines Thus honourable Ioseph is possest Of what his heart and soule so much desired And now he goes to giue that body rest That all his life with griefes and paines was tired He finds a Tombe a Tombe most rarely blest In which was neuer creature yet interred There this most pretious body he incloses Imbalmd and deckt with Lillies and with Roses Loe here the Beautie of Heau'n and Earth is laid The purest coulers vnderneath the Sunne But in this place he cannot long be staid Glory must end what horror hath begun For he the furie of the Heauens obay'd And now he must possesse what he hath wonne The Maries doe with pretious balmes attend But beeing come they find it to no end Christs resurrection ¶ For he is rize from Death t'Eternall Life And now those pretious oyntments he desires Are brought vnto him by his faithfull Wife The holy Church who in those rich attires Of Patience Loue Long suffring Voide of strife Humbly presents those oyntments he requires The oyles of Mercie Charitie and Faith Shee onely giues that which no other hath A briefe description of his beautie vpon the Canticles ¶ These pretious balmes doe heale his grieuous wounds And water of Compunction washeth cleane The soares of sinnes which in our Soules abounds So faire it heales no skarre is euer seene Yet all the glory vnto Christ redounds His pretious blood is that which must redeeme Those well may make vs louely in his sight But cannot saue without his powrefull might This is that Bridegroome that appeares so faire So sweet so louely in his Spouses sight That vnto Snowe we may his face compare His cheekes like skarlet and his eyes so bright As purest Doues that in the riuers
are Washed with milke to giue the more delight His head is likened to the finest gold His curled lockes so beauteous to behold Blacke as a Raven in her blackest hew His lips like skarlet threeds yet much more sweet Than is the sweetest hony dropping dew Or hony combes where all the Bees doe meet Yea he is constant and his words are true His cheekes are beds of spices flowers sweet His lips like Lillies dropping downe pure mirrhe Whose loue before all worlds we doe preferre To my Lady of Cumberland ¶ Ah! giue me leaue good Lady now to leaue This taske of Beauty which I tooke in hand I cannot wade so deepe I may deceaue My selfe before I can attaine the land Therefore good Madame in your heart I leaue His perfect picture where it still shall stand Deepely engraued in that holy shrine Enuironed with Loue and Thoughts diuine There may you see him as a God in glory And as a man in miserable case There may you reade his true and perfect storie His bleeding body there you may embrace And kisse his dying cheekes with teares of sorrow With ioyfull griefe you may intreat for grace And all your prayers and your almes-deeds May bring to stop his cruell wounds that bleeds Oft times hath he made triall of your loue And in your Faith hath tooke no small delight By Crosses and Afflictions he doth proue Yet still your heart remaineth firme and right Your loue so strong as nothing can remoue Your thoughts beeing placed on him both day and night Your constant soule doth lodge betweene her brests This Sweet of sweets in which all glory rests Sometime h' appeares to thee in Shepheards weed And so presents himselfe before thine eyes A good old man that goes his flocke to feed Thy colour changes and thy heart doth rise Thou call'st he comes thou find'st t is he indeed Thy Soule conceaues that he is truely wise Nay more desires that he may be the Booke Whereon thine eyes continually may looke Sometime imprison'd naked poore and bare Full of diseases impotent and lame Blind deafe and dumbe he comes vnto his faire To see if yet shee will remaine the same Nay sicke and wounded now thou do'st prepare To cherish him in thy deare Louers name Yea thou bestow'st all paines all cost all care That may relieue him and his health repaire These workes of mercy are so sweete so deare To him that is the Lord of Life and Loue That all thy prayers he vouchsafes to heare And sends his holy Spirit from aboue Thy eyes are op'ned and thou seest so cleare No worldly thing can thy faire mind remoue Thy faith thy prayers and his speciall grace Doth open Heau'n where thou behold'st his face These are those Keyes Saint Peter did possesse Which with a Spirituall powre are giu'n to thee To heale the soules of those that doe transgresse By thy faire virtues which if once they see Vnto the like they doe their minds addresse Such as thou art such they desire to be If they be blind thou giu'st to them their sight If deafe or lame they heare and goe vpright Yea if possest with any euill spirits Such powre thy faire examples haue obtain'd To cast them out applying Christs pure merits By which they are bound and of all hurt restrain'd If strangely taken wanting sence or wits Thy faith appli'd vnto their soules so pain'd Healeth all griefes and makes them grow so strong As no defects can hang vpon them long Thou beeing thus rich no riches do'st respect Nor do'st thou care for any outward showe The proud that doe faire Virtues rules neglect Desiring place thou fittest them belowe All wealth and honour thou do'st quite reiect If thou perceiu'st that once it prooues a foe To virtue learning and the powres diuine Thou mai'st conuert but neuer wilt incline To fowle disorder or licentiousnesse But in thy modest vaile do'st sweetly couer The staines of other sinnes to make themselues That by this meanes thou mai'st in time recouer Those weake lost sheepe that did so long transgresse Presenting them vnto thy deerest Louer That when he brings them backe vnto his fold In their conuersion then he may behold Thy beauty shining brighter than the Sunne Thine honour more than euer Monarke gaind Thy wealth exceeding his that Kingdomes wonne Thy Loue vnto his Spouse thy Faith vnfaind Thy Constancy in what thou hast begun Till thou his heauenly Kingdom haue obtaind Respecting worldly wealth to be but drosse Which if abuz'd doth prooue the owners losse Great Cleopatra's loue to Anthony Can no way be compared vnto thine Shee left her Loue in his extremitie When greatest need should cause her to combine Her force with his to get the Victory Her Loue was earthly and thy Loue Diuine Her Loue was onely to support her pride Humilitie thy Loue and Thee doth guide That glorious part of Death which last shee plai'd T' appease the ghost of her deceased Loue Had neuer needed if shee could haue stai'd When his extreames made triall and did proue Her leaden loue vnconstant and afraid Their wicked warres the wrath of God might moue To take reuenge for chast Octavia's wrongs Because shee enjoyes what vnto her belongs No Cleopatra though thou wert as faire As any Creature in Antonius eyes Yea though thou wert as rich as wise as rare As any Pen could write or Wit deuise Yet with this Lady canst thou not compare Whose inward virtues all thy worth denies Yet thou a blacke Egyptian do'st appeare Thou false shee true and to her Loue more deere Shee sacrificeth to her deerest Loue With flowres of Faith and garlands of Good deeds Shee flies not from him when afflictions proue Shee beares his crosse and stops his wounds that bleeds Shee loues and liues chaste as the Turtle doue Shee attends vpon him and his flocke shee feeds Yea for one touch of death which thou did'st trie A thousand deaths shee euery day doth die Her virtuous life exceeds thy worthy death Yea she hath richer ornaments of state Shining more glorious than in dying breath Thou didst when either pride or cruell fate Did worke thee to preuent a double death To stay the malice scorne and cruell hate Of Rome that joy'd to see thy pride pull'd downe Whose Beauty wrought the hazard of her Crowne Good Madame though your modestie be such Not to acknowledge what we know and find And that you thinke these prayses ouermuch Which doe expresse the beautie of your mind Yet pardon me although I giue a touch Vnto their eyes that else would be so blind As not to see thy store and their owne wants From whose faire seeds of Virtue spring these plants And knowe when first into this world I came This charge was giu'n me by th' Eternall powres Th'euerlasting Trophie of thy fame To build and decke it with the sweetest flowres That virtue yeelds Then Madame doe not blame Me when I shew the World but what is yours And decke you with