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THe laurell
leafe, which you this day doe weare,
guies me great
hope of your relenting mynd:
for since it is the
badg which I doe beare,
ye bearing it doe seeme to
me inclind:
The powre thereof, which ofte in me I
find,
let it lykewise your gentle brest inspire
with sweet infusion, and put you in mind
of that
proud mayd, whom now those leaues attyre
Proud
Daphne scorning Phaebus louely fyre,
on the
Thessalian shore from him did flie:
for which the
gods in theyr reuengefull yre
did her transforme
into a laurell tree.
Then fly no more fayre loue
from Phebus chace,
but in your brest his leafe and
loue embrace.
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