272 
[p. 567] 
[p. 568] 
[p. 569] 
[p. 570] 
B. E. Reed, 
Why shouldst thou longer thus submit 
To her who to obay’s more fitt 
Least when thy Reason once is lost 
Thy Liberty too itt will Cost 
And in the end butt as a slaue 
A soueraine for Companion haue 
To say noe worse of Beauty I Conclude 
It is but an Iustrious seruitude 
Of Beauty 
Beauty’s a fraile & brittle good 
Wb Sicknes Time & Age doe blast 
The Rose & Lilly in face thatt budd 
Hardly are keept & seldome last 
What hath she then to boast on Saue 
A fragil life & timely graue 
Beauty wher sweet Graces faile 
May be Compared vnto this 
A goodly ship w*tt out her saile 
A spring her fragrant flower doe miss 
A day want’s Sun or Torch itts Light 
A shrine want's Saint or Starless night 
But how doth Nature seeme to smother 
The Virtues of this louely Flower 
Who is of wanton Lust the Mother 
Of toyinge Vanity a Bowre 
Enimy of Peace the Fount wher Pride doe swime 
Th’ Incendeary of Strife of Passions Magazen 
Vpon a Patch Face 
Noe Beauty Spots should ladyes weare 
They but the Spots of beauty are 
Who knowes nott this (saue foolish Sotts) 
That Beauty aught to haue noe Spotts 
Some note a Spot that Venus had 
Admitt itt were in one soe badd 
Yett should nott shee haue Spots vpon Her 
That would be held a Maide of Honor 
