Then faire grew foule, and foule grew faire in sight,
And that which wont to vanquish God and man,
Was made the vassall of the victors might;
Then did her glorious flowre wex dead and wan,
Despisd and troden downe of all that ouerran.
And now it is so vtterly decayd, xxxiii
That any bud thereof doth scarse remaine,
But if few plants preseru’d through heauenly ayd,
In Princes Court doe hap to sprout againe,
Dew’d with her drops of bountie Soueraine,