And ye, faire Ladie, in whose bounteous brest All heavenly grace and vertue shrined is, When ye these rythmes doo read, and vew the rest, Loath this base world, and thinke of heavens blis:

For he so swift and nimble was of flight, That from this lower tract he dar'd to stie* Up to the clowdes, and thence with pineons light To mount aloft unto the christall skie, To vew the workmanship of heavens hight 45 Whence down descending he along would flie Upon the streaming rivers, sport to finde,