p.
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Noe more doe I wrong any: I adore The same things nowe, which I adord before, The subiect changd, and measure; the same thinge In a lowe Constable, and in the kynge I reverence: his power to worke on mee, Soe did I hvmblie reverence each degree Of faire, Greate, Good, But more now I am come From hauing found their walkes, to finde their Home And as I owe my first Soules thanks, that they For my last Soule did fitt, and mould my claie; Soe am I debtor vnto them whose worthe Enabled mee to proffitt, and take forth This great new lesson, thus to studdie yow. Which none not readinge others first, could doe, Nor lack I light, to reede this booke, though I In a dark caue, yea in a Graue doe lye, For as your fellow Angells, soe yow doe Illustrate them, which come to studie yow. The first whome wee in Histories doe fine To haue professed all Arts was one borne blinde Hee lackd those Eyes, Beasts haue as well as wee Not those by which Angells are seene, and see. Soe though I am borne, with out those Eyes to liue Which Fortune, who hath none her selfe doth giue Which are fitt meanes to see bright Courts, and yow, Yet may I see yow thus as now I doe, I shall by that all goodness haue discerned And though I burne my Librarye, bee learned| [CW: Mada missing ]. |
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