You, Lady Muse, whom JOVE the Counsellor Begot of MEMORY, Wisdom's Treasuress, To your divining tongue is given a power Of uttering secrets, large and limitless; You can PENELOPE'S strange thoughts express; Which she conceived, and then would fain have told, When she the wondrous Crystal did behold. 124. Her wingèd thoughts bore up her mind so high As that she weened she saw the glorious throne, Where the bright Moon doth sit in Majesty: A thousand sparkling stars about her shone, But she herself did sparkle more, alone, Than all those thousand beauties would have done, If they had been confounded all in one. 125. And yet she thought those stars moved in such measure, To do their Sovereign honour and delight, As soothed her mind with sweet enchanting pleasure, Although the various Change amazed her sight, And her weak judgement did entangle quite: Besides, their moving made them shine more clear; As diamonds moved more sparkling do appear. 126. This was the Picture of her wondrous thought! But who can wonder that her thought was so, Sith VULCAN, King of Fire, that Mirror wrought (Which things to come, present, and past doth know), And there did represent in lively show Our glorious English Court's divine Image, As it should be in this our Golden Age? [_See duplicate ending from this point on the next pages._] 127. Away, TERPSICHORE, light Muse, away! And come, URANIA, Prophetess divine! Come, Muse of Heaven, my burning thirst allay! Even now, for want of sacred drink, I pine: In heavenly moisture dip this pen of mine, And let my mouth with nectar overflow, For I must more than mortal glory show! 128. O that I had HOMER'S abundant vein, I would hereof another Ilias make! Or else the Man of Mantua's charmèd brain, In whose large throat great JOVE the thunder spake! O that I could old GEOFFREY'S Muse awake, Or borrow COLIN'S fair heroic style, Or smooth my rhymes with _DELIA'S_ servant's file! 129. O could I, sweet Companion, sing like you Which of a _Shadow_, under a shadow sing! Or like fair SALVES' sad lover true! Or like the Bay, the marigold's darling, Whose sudden verse, Love covers with his wing! O that your brains were mingled all with mine, T' enlarge my Wit for this great work divine! 130. Yet ASTROPHEL might one for all suffice. Whose supple Muse camelion-like doth change Into all forms of excellent device: So might the Swallow, whose swift Muse doth range Through rare _Idæas_ and inventions strange, And ever doth enjoy her joyful Spring, And Sweeter than the Nightingale doth sing. 131.