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He wrote to the same friend from Founteine belle eaü in Fraunce, this Sonnet in commendation of the said house of Fountaine bel'eaü.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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He wrote to the same friend from Founteine belle eaü in Fraunce, this Sonnet in commendation of the said house of Fountaine bel'eaü.

Not stately Troye though Priam yet did live,
Could now compare Founteine bel'eaü to passe:
Nor Syrian towers, whose loftie steppes did strive,
To climbe the throne where angry Saturne was,
For outward shew the ports are of such price,
As skorne the cost which Cesar spilt in Rome:
Such works within as stayne the rare devise,
Which whilome he Apelles wrought on toome.
Swift Tiber floud which fed the Romayne pooles,
Puddle to this where Christall melts in streames,
The pleasaunt place where Muses kept their schooles,
(Not parcht with Phœbe, nor banisht from his beames)
Yeeld to those Dames, nor sight, nor fruite, nor smell,
Which may be thought these gardens to excell.
Si fortunatus infœlix.