A.D. THE ENGLISH VOYAGES 



1596. 



[III. 671.] Art thou (heroike Autor of this Act) 



To this wrong'd soule of Nature that sustainst 



Paine, charge, and perill for thy countreys good, 



And she much like a bodie numb'd with surfeits, 



Feeles not thy gentle applications 



For the health, use, and honour of her powers ! 



Yet shall my verse through all her ease-lockt eares 



Trumpet the Noblesse of thy high intent : 



And if it cannot into act proceed, 



The fault and bitter penance of the fault 



Make red some others eyes with penitence. 



For thine are cleare ; and what more nimble spirits,, 



Apter to byte at such unhooked baytes 



Gaine by our losse ; that must we needs confesse 



Thy princely valure would have purchast us. 



Which shall be fame eternall to thy name. 



Though thy contentment in thy grave desires, 



Of our advancement, faile deserv'd effect. 



O how I feare thy glory which I love. 



Least it should dearely grow by our decrease. 



Natures that sticke in golden-graveld springs. 



In mucke-pits cannot scape their swallowings. 



But we shall foorth I know; Golde is our Fate^ 

 Which all our actes doth fashion and create. 



Then in the Thespiads bright Propheticke Fount, 

 Me thinkes I see our Liege rise from her throne. 

 Her eares and thoughts in steepe amaze erected, 

 At the most rare endevour of her power. 

 And now she blesseth with her woonted Graces 

 Th'industrious Knight, the soule of this exploit, 

 Dismissing him to convoy of his starres. 

 And now for love and honour of his woorth. 

 Our twise-borne Nobles bring him Bridegroome-like, 

 That is espousde for vertue to his love 

 With feasts and musicke, ravishing the aire. 

 To his Argolian Fleet, where round about 



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