HYMNE IX.

TO FLORA.

EMPRESSE of flowers, tell where away

I ies your sweet Court this merry1 May,
Jn Greenewich Garden allies ?2

Since there the heauenly powers do play
and haunt no other vallies.

Beautie, vertue, maiestie,

Eloquent Muses, three times three,

The new fresh Houres and Graces,

haue pleasure in this place to be,

a boue all other places.

Roses and lillies did them draw,
Ere they diuine Astræa saw;

ay flowers they sought for pleasure :
Instead of gathering crownes of flowers,
ow gather they Astræa's dowers,
and beare to heauen that treasure,

1 Thomas Davies, as before, drops' merry.' 2 =alleys. G.

HYMNE X.

TO THE MONETH OF SEPTEMBER.

EACH moneth hath praise in some degree;
Let May to others seeme to be
n sense the sweetest Season;
September thou art best to me,
and best dost please my reason.

But neither for thy corne nor wine
Extoll I those mild dayes of thine,
Though corne and wine might praise thee;
heauen giues thee honour more diuine,
and higher fortunes raise thee.

Renown'd art thou (sweet moneth) for this,
Emong thy dayes her birth-day is ;1

Grace, plenty, peace and honour

In one faire hour with her were borne ;

ow since they still her crowne adorne, and still attend vpon her.

1 Queen Elizabeth was born on 7th September, 1533. G.

HYMNE XI.

TO THE SUNNE.

EYE of the world, fountaine of light, Life of Day, and death of Night; humbly seek thy kindnesse :

Sweet, dazle not my feeble sight, and strike me not with blindnesse.

ehold me mildly from that face, Euen where thou now dost run thy race, The spheare where now thou turnest; auing like Phaeton chang'd thy place, and yet hearts onely burnest.

Red in her right cheeke thou dost rise,

Exalted after in her eyes,

Great glory there thou shewest;

In th' other cheeke when thou descendest,

new rednesse vnto it thou lendest,

and so thy round thou goest

HYMNE XII.

TO HER PICTURE.

EXTREAME was his audacitie,
Little his skill, that finisht thee;

am asham'd and sorry,

So dull her counterfeit should bee, and she so full of glory.

But here are colours red and white, Each line, and each proportion right; These lines, this red and whitenesse,

haue wanting yet a life and light, a maiestie, and brightnesse.

Rude counterfeit, I then did erre,

Euen now when I would needs inferre

reat boldnesse in thy maker;

did mistake, he was not bold,

2 or durst his eyes her eyes behold: and this made him mistake her.

HYMNE XIII.

OF HER MINDE.

EARTH, now adiew, my rauisht thought

Lifted to Heau'n sets thee at nought;

Infinite is my longing,

Secrets of angels to be taught,

and things to Heau'n belonging.

Brought downe from heau'n of angels kind,

Euen now doe I admire her mind;

This is my contemplation,

her cleare sweet spirit, which is refin'd

a boue humane creation.

Rich sun-beame of th' Æternall light,
Excellent Soule, how shall I wright?1

ood angels make me able;
cannot see but by your eye,

or, but by your tongue, signifie a thing so admirable.

=write. G.