Whylom that in a shepheards gray coate masked, (Where masked loue the nonage of his skill) Reares new Eagle-winged pen, new tasked, To scale the by-clift Muse sole-pleasing hill: Dropping sweete Nectar poesie from his quill, Admires faire CYNTHIA with his iuory pen Faire CYNTHIA lou'd, fear'd, of Gods and men. Downe sliding from that cloudes ore-pearing mounteine: Decking with double grace the neighbour plaines, Drawes christall dew, from PEGASE foote-sprung fountain, Whose flower set banks, delights, sweet choice containes: Nere yet discouerd to the country swaines: Heere bud those branches, which adorne his turtle, With loue made garlands, of heart-bleeding Mirtle. Rays'd from the cynders, of the thrice-sact towne: ILLIONS sooth-telling SYBILLIST appeares, Eclipsing PHOEBUS loue, with scornefull frowne, Whose tragicke end, affords warme-water teares, (For pitty-wanting PACOE, none forbeares) Such period haps, to beauties price ore-priz'd: Where IANVS-faced loue, doth lurke disguiz'd. Nere-waining CYNTHIA yeelds thee triple thankes, Whose beames vnborrowed darke the worlds faire eie And as full streames that euer fill their bankes, So those rare Sonnets, where wits ripe doth lie, With Troian Nimph, doe soare thy fame to skie. And those, and these, contend thy Muse to raise (Larke mounting Muse) with more then common praise. _ENG. SCH. LIB. No._ 14. [Illustration] _To his Mistresse._ Bright Starre of Beauty, fairest Faire aliue, Rare president of peerelesse chastity; (In whom the Muses and the Graces striue, VVhich shall possesse the chiefest part of thee:) Oh let these simple lines accepted bee: VVhich here I offer at thy sacred shrine: Sacred, because sweet Beauty is diuine. And though I cannot please each curious eare, With sugred Noates of heauenly Harmonie: Yet if my loue shall to thy selfe appeare, No other Muse I will inuoke but thee: And if thou wilt my faire _Thalia_ be, Ile sing sweet Hymnes and praises to thy name, In that cleare Temple of eternall Fame. But ah (alas) how can mine infant Muse (That neuer heard of _Helicon_ before) Performe my promise past: when they refuse Poore Shepheards Plaints? yet will I still adore Thy sacred Name, al though I write no more: Yet hope I shall, if this accepted bee: If not, in silence sleepe eternally. [Illustration] [Illustration] _CYNTHIA._ [Illustration]