p. [183]
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So you, as woman one doth comprehend, And in the Vale of kindred, others see; To some you are revealed as a friend, And as a Vertuous Prince farr of to mee. To whome, because from you all vertues flowe And tis nott none to dare contemplate you I which doe [space] as your true Subiect, owe Some tribute for that; so these lines are due If you can thinke these flatteries, they are; For then your iudgment is below my praise If they were so, oft flatteries worke as farr, As counsailes, and as farr the Endeauour raise So my ill reaching you, might there grow good, But I remaine a poysoned fountaine still. But not your beautie, vertue, knowledge, blood Are more aboue all flatterie then my will And if I flatter any, tis not you But mine owne iudgment, who did long agoe Pronounce that all these Praiers should bee true, And vertue should you beautie, and birth outgrowe. Now that my Prophesies are all fulfild Rather then God should not bee honord too And all those guifts confessd, which hee instyld, Your selfe were bound to saie, that which I doe Soe I but your Recorder am in this Or mouth, and Speaker of the Vniuerse A Ministeriall Notarie: for tis Nott I, but you, and fame, that make thy Verse. |
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