University of Virginia Library

Epig. 258. To the rare Painter mine approoued friend, and good neighbor, M.r Row: Locky.


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As Nature made; so, thou dost make my Face:
Yet, with a better, and a worser grace.
With better; sith thy Worke hath glory got:
With worse; sith thou giu'st life that moues it not.
Yet, when crosse-Fortune makes me moue the Brow,
Thine, without motion, better farre doth show.
But by ill fortune (oft) though marr'd it bee,
It had good fortune to be made by Thee:
For, Thou dost Fortunes furrowes quite out-strike,
And, mak'st it in all fortunes, looke alike.