As from two weeping eyes, fresh streames do flow,
Yet cold through feare, and old conceiued dreads;
And yet the stone her semblance seemes to show,
Shapt like a maid, that such ye may her know;
And yet her vertues in her water byde:
For it is chast and pure, as purest snow,
Ne lets her waues with any filth be[499] dyde,
But euer like her selfe vnstained hath beene tryde.
From thence it comes, that this babes bloudy hand x
May not be clensd with water of this well: