And weare of fierce, and cruell mindes, the worlde did brutishe call.
Yet with persuasions sounde, hee made their hartes relente,
That meeke, and milde they did become, and followed where he wente.
Lo, these, the Lions fierce, these, Beares, and Tigers weare:
The trees, and rockes, that lefte their roomes, his musicke for to heare.
But, you are happie most, who in suche place doe staye:
You neede not Thracia seeke, to heare some impe of Orphevs playe.
Since, that so neare your home, Apollos darlinge dwelles;
Who Linvs, & Amphion staynes, and Orphevs farre excelles.
For, hartes like marble harde, his harmonie dothe pierce: