 | The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable |  |
xcv
TO ST. MARGARETT.
Fayre Amazon of heaven, who took'st in hand
St. Mychaell & St. George to imitate,
And for a tyrant's love transform'd to hate,
Wast for thy lylly faith retayn'd in bande;
St. Mychaell & St. George to imitate,
And for a tyrant's love transform'd to hate,
Wast for thy lylly faith retayn'd in bande;
Alone on foote, & with thy naked hande
Thou dydd'st lyke Mychaell & his hoste; & that
For which on horse arm'd George we celebrate;
Whylst thou, lyke them, a dragon dydd'st withstand.
Thou dydd'st lyke Mychaell & his hoste; & that
For which on horse arm'd George we celebrate;
Whylst thou, lyke them, a dragon dydd'st withstand.
Behold my sowle shutt in my body's jayle,
The which the drake of hell gapes to devoure;
Teache me, (o virgyn), how thou dydd'st prevayle.
Virginity, thou saiest, was all thy ayde;
Gyve me then purity in steade of power,
And let my soule, mayd chaste, passe for a Mayde.
The which the drake of hell gapes to devoure;
Teache me, (o virgyn), how thou dydd'st prevayle.
Virginity, thou saiest, was all thy ayde;
Gyve me then purity in steade of power,
And let my soule, mayd chaste, passe for a Mayde.
| The Poems and Sonnets of Henry Constable | |