So in this Pilgrimage I would behold
Yow, as you are Vertues Temple nott as shee
What walls of tender Cristall her vnfold,
What eies, hands, bosome, her pure Altares bee.
And after this suruaie, oppose to all
Bablers of Chappells, yow the' Escuriall.
Yett not as Consecrate, but Meerely as faire
On thes I cast a lay, and Country Eie
Of past, and future Stories, which are rare,
I finde yow all Record, all Prophecie.
Purge but the Booke of Fate, that itt admitt
No sad nor guiltie Legends, yow are itt.
If good, and louely were not one, of both
Yow were the Transcript, and Originall;
The Elementes, the Parent, and the Growth
And every peece of yow, is both their All.
So intire are all your deedes, and yow, that yow
Must doe the same thinge still; yow cannott two.
But these (as nice thinne Schoole-Diuinitie
Serues Heresie to furder, or repres)
Tast of Poetique rage or Flatterie;
And need not where all hartes one truth profes.
Oft from new proofes, and new phrase, new doubts growe;
A strange attire aliens the Men wee knowe.
Leavinge then busie praise, and all appeale
To higher Courts, Sences decree is true;
The Mine the Magazin, the Common weale
The Storie of Beawtie;' In Twicknam is, and yow
Who hath seene one, would both; as who had bin
In Paradise, would seeke the Cherubin.| [CW: to haue]
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