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Elegie. 1.
Not that in colour it was like thy haire, [f. 21]
For Armeletts of that, thou ma'yst lett mee weare;
Nor that thy hand it oft embrac't, and kist:
For soe it had the good, wch oft I mist.
Nor for the seelie old moralitie,
That as those linckes are tyed, or loves should bee.
Mourne I, that* thy sevenfold Chaine haue lost;
Nor for the lucke sake, but the bitter Cost.
Oh! shall twelve righteous Angelles, wch as yet
No leuen of vild Solder did admitt;
Nor yet by anie fault haue strayde, or gone
From the first state of their creation.
Angelles, wch Heav'ne comaunded to provide
All thinges to mee, and bee my faithfull Guide,
To gaine new freindse, to appease great Enemies,
To comfort my Soule when I lie, or rise.
Shall these twelue Innocents by thy severe
Sentence (dread Iudge) my Sins great burthen beare?
Shall they bee dam'nd,? and in the furnace throwne?
And punished for offences not theire owne?
They save not mee, they doe not ease my paines,
When in that Hell they are burnt, and tyed in Chaines.
Weare they but Crownes of Fraunce I cared not,

[CW: For]