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To my deere friend Da: Murray.

Fame (slaue to Time) still flying here and there,
Tels what sad wonders in this world hath beene,
Wrought with the tragike pencil of dispaire,
Which doth nought else but horri'd woes containe,
Braue Sophonisba, faire, and stately Queene
Whom Murrays wits, for vertue, now adores,
None but this age her (matchlesse) like hath seene
And none so high, her well deseruing sores:
For what shee lost, his Muse againe restores,
Her life adornes his euer-liuing lines
His pen, her praise, each other still decores,
So in her worth, his verse, most brightly shines:
Faire Queene whose death did end the Romans strife,
Hath made his Muse giue her a brauer life.
Simon Grahame.
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