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To PANDORA.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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To PANDORA.

While gathering in the Muses garden flowrs,
I made a Nosegay, which perfum'd the aire,
Whose smell shall sauour to times latest hours,
And shall for ay adorne thee cruel, faire.
I laide mee downe vpon the grassie greene,
Where I beheld fruit's, flowr's, and hearbs anew,
Foorthspred by Flora glorious Sommers Queene,
Whereon the calme and gentle Zephir blew:
On haughtie hils, which Giant-like did threat
To pearse the heauens with their aspiring head,
Grew war-like Firs, strong Oaks, & Ceeders great,
Whose shaddie boughs the leaue groues ou'rspred
Thus high and low I looked where I lay,
Yet neither fruite nor flower was like my Hay.