For far more bitter storme than winters stowre*

[Sidenote: This Touffon is an extraordinary storme at Sea.]

The gathered storme is rype; the bigge drops falle; The forswat meadowes smethe, and drenche the raine; The comyng ghastness do the cattle pall, And the full flockes are drivynge ore the plaine; Dashde from the cloudes, the waters flott againe; The welkin opes, the yellow levynne flies, And the hot fierie smothe in the wide lowings dies.

But then from heaven most hideous stormes are sent, As willing me against her will to stay.

His last letters That I receav'd weare dated from Leagahorne; Nowe wee by this infortnate storme are driven Into Marcellis roads.

Oh for a lusty storme to bury all Their hopes in the waves now!

Dear sir, let me have power to recall Your graver thoughts out of this violent storme Of passion that thus oerwhelmes your mind.