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| If 'twere not injur'd by extrinsique blows; |
| Your birth and beauty are this Balm in you. |
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| But, you of Learning and Religion, |
| And virtue, 'and such ingredients, have made |
| A Mithridate, whose operation |
| Keeps off, or cures, what can be done or said. |
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| Yet, this is not your physick, but your food, |
| A diet fit for you; for you are here |
| The first good Angel, since the worlds frame stood, |
| That ever did in womans shape appear. |
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| Since you are then Gods Master-piece, and so |
| His Factor for our loves; do as you do, |
| Make your return home gracious; and bestow |
| This life on that; so make one life of two. |
| For so God help me, I would not miss you there |
| For all the good which you can do me here. |
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| To the Countess of Bedford. |
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| Madam, |
| You have refin'd me, and to worthiest things |
| Virtue, Art, Beauty, Fortune; now I see |
| Rareness, or use, not nature value brings; |
| And such, as they are circumstanc'd, they bee. |
| Two ils can ne'r perplex us, sin t'excuse,* |
| But of two good things we may leave or chuse. |
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| Therefore at Court, which is not virtues clime, |
| Where a transcendent height (as, lowness me) |
| Makes her not see, or not show:* all my rime |
| Your virtues challenge, which there rarest be;
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[CW: For] |