LAURENCE KEYMIS a.d. 



1596. 



On brave indevours, knowing that in them 



The tract of heaven in morne-like glory opens, 



That know you cannot be the Kings of earth, 



(Claiming the Rights of your creation) 



And let the Mynes of earth be Kings of you ; 



That are so farre from doubting likely drifts, 



That in things hardest y'are most confident : 



You that know death lives, where power lives unusde. 



Joying to shine in waves that burie you, 



And so make way for life even through your graves ; 



That will not be content like horse to hold 



A thread-bare beaten way to home affaires : 



But where the sea in envie of your reigne, 



Closeth her wombe, as fast as t'is disclosde, 



That she like Avarice might swallow all. 



And let none find right passage through her rage : 



There your wise soules as swift as Eurus lead 



Your Bodies through, to profit and renowne. 



And skorne to let your bodies choke your soules, 



In the rude breath and prisoned life of beastes : 



You that herein renounce the course of earth. 



And lift your eyes for guidance to the starres, 



That live not for yourselves, but to possesse 



Your honoured countrey of a generall store ; 



In pitie of the spoyle rude selfe-love makes, 



Of them whose lives and yours one ayre doth feede, 



One soile doeth nourish, and one strength combine; 



You that are blest with sence of all things noble, 



In this attempt your compleat woorthes redouble. 



But how is Nature at her heart corrupted, 



(I meane even in her most ennobled birth) 



How in excesse of Sence is Sence bereft her! 



That her most lightening-like effects of lust 



Wound through her flesh, her soule, her flesh un- 



wounded ; 

 And she must neede incitements to her good, 

 Even from that part she hurtes ! O how most like 

 X 449 2 F 



