|
| Your treasure, for since I had never known |
| Vertue and beauty, but as they are grown |
| In you, I should not think or say they shine, |
| (So as I have) in any other Mine; |
| Next I confess this my confession, |
| For, 'tis some fault thus much to touch upon |
| Your praise to you, where half rights seem too much |
| And make your minds sincere complexion blush. |
| Next I confess my 'mpenitence, for I |
| Can scarce repent my first fault, since thereby |
| Remote low Spirits, which shall ne'r read you, |
| May in less lessons find enough to do, |
| By studying copies, not Originals, |
| Desunt cætera. |
|
| A Letter to the Lady Carey, and Mris Essex Riche, |
|
| from Amyens. |
|
| MADAM, |
|
| Here where by All, All Saints invoked are, |
| 'Twere two much schism to be singular, |
| And 'gainst a practice general to war. |
|
| Yet turning to Sanicts, should my'humility |
| To other Sainct than you directed be, |
| That were to make my schism heresie. |
|
| Nor would I be a Convertite so cold, |
| As not to tell it; If this be too bold, |
| Pardons are in this market cheaply sold.
|
[CW: Where] |