That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,
Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart,
And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde;
Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart,[°]
In loves and gentle jollities arrayd,
After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd.
IV
And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright,[°]
Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine,