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To the Queens Majestie.
Epigram 3.
Daughter, Wife, Sister, Mother to a King,And Empresse of the North, enrich thy Name:
Yet thou dost chastity and wisedome bring,
Beauty and bounty to make up thy fame.
Which sith (fair Queen) my Muse hath understood,
She's bold into thy presence to intrude;
Assured, honest meanings that are good
Shall finde acceptance there, though they seem rude.
Look and behold the Vanities of Men,
Their Miseries, their Weaknesse, & their Pride,
And when described by my rurall Pen,
Thou each particular hast here espide:
Think with thy selfe how blest thy Fortunes be
T'enjoy so rare a Prince, that both knows how
To keep himselfe from such fell Passion free,
And make so many mad wilde creatures bow:
Indeed her's Vices tablet plainly drawn;
Not veiled over, or obscurely drawn;
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That men may blush on such a Hag to fawn.
But if your Grace will favour what I sing,
Though Vertue be in durance, I'll repreeve her,
That now-despised Nymph to honour bring,
Set all her hidden beauties forth; and give her
So sweet a look, and such a deft attyre,
Men shal grow love-sick, and burn with desire.
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