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THe world
that cannot deeme of worthy things,
when I doe
praise her, say I doe but flatter:
so does the
Cuckow, when the Mauis sings,
begin his witlesse
note apace to clatter.
But they that skill not of so
heauenly matter,
all that they know not, enuy or
admyre,
rather then enuy let them wonder at her,
but not to deeme of her desert aspyre.
Deepe in the
closet of my parts entyre,
her worth is written with
a golden quill:
that me with heauenly fury doth
inspire,
and my glad mouth with her sweet prayses
fill.
Which when as fame in her shrill trump shal
thunder
let the world chose to enuy or to wonder.
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