(as shee past upon the Thames to Sir Arthur Gorges house at Chelsey) O blessed eyes, the lyfe of sights yee see Temper devyne of grace and Majestie O gracefull Majestie, O blisfull eyes See the strong proofes that there are deyeties But tis a vision, Bewties rapting fyre Hath cast me in a traunce. What sence cannot attaine it must admyre In humble ignorance. Beutie and Majestie and grace enthrowned: Not found in Millions are in one attoned. See how to follow her the billowe hasts And in her love the leaveles season wastes Whose Beauties Circle Heavens doe soe empale That wanting naugh[t] it sees the wants of all. Seas, yeares, and beawties ever ebb and flow But shee still fixt doth shine When all things dyed; her Raigne began to growe To prove shee is devyne. Soe those in whose chast harts virtue survyves Finish their fading yeares, but not their lives. |